Well, if you ask that question, you have no idea what sexual assault looks like, and no idea of how trauma works. Why didn’t I beat him over the head and call the police? Because in the real world that rarely happens.
Yet every assault victim is asked, “Why didn’t you fight? Kick?”
How do you respond to trauma? Fight, flight, or freeze. In this case I was barely conscious, and not prepared to fight, especially because I was looking at someone I had considered one of my best friends.
My flight, in what I now understand is common in such situations, was mental. I thought, “This can’t be happening.” You disassociate in the moment.
After he left my room, I sat for an hour, wondering, “How can I possibly wrap my head around this in a way that doesn’t make somebody who was my friend into a monster?” I was the first person who tried desperately to defend him. And then I realized I could not.
If you decide to keep reporting on this issue, I suggest you study research on the effects of trauma.
You certainly added to mine.
As I tried to brace myself to keep reading your piece, my chest became so tense, it hurt. I had to stop reading, but I couldn’t put down my phone. I suddenly felt claustrophobic; I had to get outside. I took my dog for a walk, storming down the street, still grasping my phone in one hand, afraid to look at it but unable to let it go. I didn’t feel safe outside, either. I live in a quiet neighborhood and the streets were empty, but I felt as if, from behind their windows, my neighbors were scrutinizing me and imagining the night I was assaulted while unconscious, imagining what happened from your warped point of view. I walked faster and my dog trotted behind me, and I noticed that I was breathing in short, quick breaths.
While I tried to slow down and force myself to breathe normally, I pulled up my phone and got ready to text my boyfriend that I was having a panic attack in the street. And then it fell over me—that familiar, merciful feeling of numbness. Instead of texting my boyfriend, I began reading your piece again as I turned around and started making my way home.
When I got home, my boyfriend was there. He sat with me as we both read the rest of your piece. He asked how I was, and all I could do was just sit there in silence. I felt the way I did that morning when I realized that my friend and I had been assaulted. I felt the way I did when I had to relive that awful night in front of the police; in front of my assailant and a room full of law school administrators; before a grand jury. I felt the way I did during the criminal trial when, on my second day on the stand, my assailant’s attorney shouted the details of my assault at me, as if outraged that I was still telling the same story after four years. I didn’t want to deal with it, I didn’t want to have to be strong, I didn’t want to do anything. I wanted to fade into the furniture and not believe that any of it was happening. I didn’t want this to be my life.
And I was so angry with you for bringing me back to this place where I have to put on my armor. Once again, I had to harden myself, tell myself that even though it feels like a personal attack, it’s not. Still, I don’t want to have to be strong all the time.
I know that this attack on my credibility is not personal. It does feel like some private, essential part of me is being attacked—my truthfulness, my character. But I know that your attack, like all other attacks of this kind, is not personal, uniquely aimed, or even nuanced in any way. It’s not personal, but it’s still painful. It seems to me that people just hate women who try to stand up for themselves.
On the one hand, if you’re a survivor who speaks up, you put yourself in this battle and you want justice and redemption; and on the other hand, the reaction you face is not necessarily individualized; it’s a barrage of every sexist stereotype about who you’re supposed to be, and of dangerous notions of what men are entitled to and how their sexuality functions, regardless of context.
With my armor on once again, I remembered the pep talks my aunt had given me when I was bracing myself for your article to be published: “It’s not personal; you’re being attacked for what you represent. What woman in our family has not been attacked?”
Endurance is part of many black women’s identities, because we get it from all directions.
We are attacked within our families and our communities. In a lot of ways we’re at the bottom of the social hierarchy. We’re dismissed by feminists like Madonna and the actress Patricia Arquette, who said, “It’s time for all the women in America, and all the men that love women and all the gay people and all the people of color that we’ve all fought for to fight for us now!” Well, that’s a punch in the stomach. It’s not just white women who are feminists. Black women—and gay women—have always been part of that fight, even when you refuse to acknowledge our existence. Likewise, the struggle for racial equality is not just about straight black men.
But we’re told by both groups: Not you, not right now.
Not you right now, because equality for black people is equality for black men.
Not you right now, because equality for women is equality for white women.
So we constantly have to assert ourselves. We can be incredibly psychically resilient, when we have to be. A lot of women, especially women of color, feel we can’t afford to focus on our own victimization because we have to be strong and appear strong in order to survive. It’s never “our turn” to say that we are being hurt, that what’s happening to us is criminal and we demand an end to it. People like you have been trying to erase the voices of people like me since the beginning of history. You’re on the wrong side of it, Emily.
I don’t understand why you write the stories that you do. I don’t understand why a journalist would make it her niche to single out and attempt to discredit victims of any crime, let alone sexual assault. It makes me sad. Maybe you’ve internalized many of the oppressive ideas about gender and sexuality that hurt us all—men and women.
I’m sure your stories get lots of clicks, you get the readers and are probably hailed as a tough-minded (“objective”) leader at work, and a hero among those who mistake their insecurities for “objectivity.”
But do you truly believe in what you’re doing?
Or do you do this simply because you don’t want to live in a world in which the reality and frequency of sexual assault is what countless survivors, activists, bystanders, and researchers say it is? I don’t want to believe that I live in that world either, but denying it doesn’t make it go away. Denying it hurts people, and enables perpetrators.
The message you’re sending to the world is this: “If you’ve been violated, keep it to yourself. Don’t demand justice—don’t demand anything, because I won’t believe you. No one will believe you.” What better way to empower perpetrators, who rely on the silence of their victims?
I don’t hate you. I am angry with you, though. I think you’re capable of doing better. I think you’re capable of not actively doing harm in the world.
Kamilah Willingham
June 14, 2015
How to Become an Activist
ANNIE CLARK AND ANDREA PINO
We are often asked, “How do you become an activist?” The answer is different for everyone. Violence is entrenched in our culture; it manifests in transphobia, racism, ableism, homophobia, and misogyny. It can be subtle and it can be vivid, and because of that, there are roles for every kind of person to play. While protesting and speaking out publicly might be ideal for some activists, for others, teaching their children or friends about consent is how they choose to exercise their activism. And still for others, getting out of bed and eating a bowl of cereal is activism, because self-care is radical and necessary. Audre Lorde once wrote, “Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare.” Though we all engage with activism differently, there are things allies can do on a daily basis to help chip away at the stigma of our violent culture and alleviate the shame and silencing our society bestows upon survivors.
Participate in the
conversation. Ending our culture of violence should not be the sole responsibility of those who survive it. Call out “rape jokes” and comments that perpetuate violence. Get involved with your school’s antiviolence organization, and if there isn’t one, start one. If you are not a survivor, work to center the voices of survivors. Prioritize the needs of survivors of color, queer survivors, and transgender survivors; if they aren’t part of the conversation at your school, challenge that and fight to change it.
Advocate for better federal, state, and local policy regarding consent and healthy relationship education. Boys and girls are exposed to the painful silence around violence at a very young age; we should not wait until they reach college age to start talking about consent.
Learn about Title IX, and make sure your friends, children, and partners know that all students have the right to a safe and equal educational experience.
Give someone this book. It is difficult to encapsulate the power in every narrative in this book, and the lessons shared in the beautiful words printed on these pages. Writing the introductions for this book was difficult, as every story can stand alone, and carries a complexity that is difficult to summarize. For centuries, the stories of survivors have been kept in the shadows and kept from print, but we must free them and share them.
Believe survivors. As we’ve said throughout this book, and as our fellow survivors have reiterated, the most important thing is to Believe Survivors. Believing survivors is a type of radical everyday activism, since we live in a society that suggests that you do completely the opposite.
Believing survivors is a type of radical everyday activism, since we live in a society that suggests that you do completely the opposite.
RIGHTS AND RESOURCES
HELP 101
What to Do Immediately After Experiencing Violence
If you are ever a victim of crime, it is never your fault. You may be experiencing a wide array of emotions, all of which are valid. Something happened that was unwanted, and it’s hard to know how to react in the aftermath. You and your safety are important.
• If you are in immediate danger, call 911 if possible.1
• If you do not feel safe, think about going to a place where you do feel safe, if possible, and finding a family member or friend for support.
• If you are intoxicated, or under the influence, most universities and local hospitals have amnesty clauses that will protect you and/or your friends if you wish to seek medical help after an assault.
• If you are unsure where to go, you can call the 24/7 National Sexual Assault Telephone Hotline at 800-656-HOPE (4673). They can also offer guidance and support as you navigate your next steps.
• Many people don’t want to seek medical attention alone. If you would like an advocate, most rape crisis centers have designated advocates who are trained to accompany and support survivors after their assault. If you choose to have a sexual assault examination performed, you should not have to pay for your own rape kit.2
RESOURCES
Our Top Picks
Further resources, including those that can help you in a time of crisis, are listed below:
American College Health Association: www.acha.org
Promotes campus health care for students and advances the interests of college health with advocacy, education, and research.
Clery Center for Security on Campus: www.clerycenter.org
Works with college and university communities to create safer campuses.
End Rape on Campus: www.EndRapeOnCampus.org
End Rape on Campus (EROC) works to end campus sexual violence through direct support for survivors and their communities; prevention through education; and policy reform at the campus, local, state, and federal levels.
FORGE: www.forge-forward.org
FORGE is a nonprofit that provides comprehensive resources primarily to those on the female-to-male (FTM) gender spectrum and Significant Others, Friends, Family, and Allies (SOFFAs).
The Hunting Ground Film Campaign: www.SeeActStop.org
A coalition of survivors, students, alumni, parents, educators, and supporters who refuse to tolerate campus sexual assault.
It’s On Us: www.itsonus.org
It’s On Us is a campaign initiated by President Barack Obama to end campus sexual assault. The initiative encourages bystander intervention.
Joyful Heart Foundation: http://www.joyfulheartfoundation.org/learn/sexual-assault-and-rape/resources/hotlines-and-more-information
Runs programs for survivors of traumatic events, addressing the physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual effects of the events. They advocate for survivors of domestic violence and abuse and educate the public on these issues, bringing them into conversation, changing the way society thinks about, talks about, and responds to sexual assault, domestic violence, and child abuse.
Know Your IX: www.knowyourix.org
Know Your IX is a national survivor-run, student-driven campaign to end campus sexual violence.
Men Can Stop Rape: http://www.mencanstoprape.org
Men Can Stop Rape seeks to mobilize men to use their strength for creating cultures free from violence, especially men’s violence against women.
National Sexual Violence Resource Center: www.nsvrc.org
NSVRC acts as a communication hub connecting people with the information, resources, tools, and expertise needed to effectively address and prevent sexual violence in all communities.
National Women’s Law Center: http://www.nwlc.org/
Champions laws and policies that work for women and families.
No More: www.NoMore.org
No More is a unifying symbol and campaign to raise public awareness and engage bystanders around ending domestic violence and sexual assault.
Not Alone: www.notalone.gov
NotAlone.gov includes information for students, schools, and anyone interested in finding resources on how to respond to and prevent sexual assault.
Only with Consent: http://onlywithconsent.org/
Only with Consent is committed to teaching consent in a compelling and interesting way that engages students and promotes discussion and open dialogue.
PAVE: http://pavingtheway.net
Promoting Awareness, Victim Empowerment (PAVE) is a multi-chapter national nonprofit that uses education and action to shatter the silence of sexual violence through targeted social, educational, and legislative tactics.
Rape Abuse Incest National Network: www.RAINN.org
RAINN (Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network) is the nation’s largest anti–sexual violence organization.
Safe Horizon: http://www.safehorizon.org/page/rape-and-sexual-assault-13.html
Runs a 24/7 confidential hotline for victims of violence, providing crisis counseling, safety planning, assistance with finding shelter, referrals to Safe Horizon programs or other organizations, advocacy with the police, and other services.
Students Active for Ending Rape (SAFER): www.safercampus.org
Started by Columbia University students in 2000, SAFER is the only organization that fights sexual violence and rape culture by empowering student-led campaigns to reform college sexual assault policies.
SurvJustice: www.SurvJustice.org
SurvJustice is a national not-for-profit organization that improves the prospect of justice for survivors of sexual violence by providing legal assistance, training institutions, and supporting change-makers.
Trans Lifeline: www.translifeline.org
Trans Lifeline is a 501(c)3 nonprofit dedicated to the well-being of transgender people. They run the only crisis hotline staffed by transgender people for transgender people.
If you need immediate help, please call their crisis hotline:
U.S.: (877) 565-8860 Canada: (877) 330-6366
The Trevor Project: www.thetrevorproject.org
The Trevor Project is the leading national organization providing crisis intervention and suicide prevention services to lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender,
and questioning (LGBTQ) young people ages thirteen to twenty-four.
If you need help, please call their 24/7 crisis hotline: 866-488-7386
Victim Rights Law Center: www.victimrights.org
The VRLC’s mission is to provide legal representation to victims of rape and sexual assault to help rebuild their lives, and to promote a national movement committed to seeking justice for every rape and sexual assault victim.
“WHY DIDN’T YOU GO TO THE POLICE?”
Annie Clark
Those of us who become frustrated with our school’s response to an assault are often asked, “But why didn’t you report it to the police?”
In the United States, students who have been assaulted have the option of reporting their assault to the police or to their school or to both or to neither. There are risks and benefits to each of those options.
An institution of higher education can support an assault survivor in ways that a police department cannot. Schools can expel perpetrators or require them to take time off using different criteria and within a much shorter time than it takes to prosecute a criminal case. Also, the federal law Title IX is in place to ensure that schools provide equal access to educational programs and activities regardless of a student’s sex. Thus, schools can offer educational accommodations to a survivor who might be experiencing gender-related trauma in the aftermath of a sexual assault so that the survivor can continue their studies. A school can switch a survivor’s chemistry section so that she is not in the same class as the person who attacked her, can move a survivor’s dormitory room so that she does not live in the same building as the attacker, can allow extra test-taking time if the survivor has developed a PTSD-related disorder that necessitates extra time, and so on and so forth.
Reporting the assault to the police and pursuing a case through the criminal justice system are other options. Some survivors do go immediately to a hospital, have a rape kit done, report the crime to the police, and have a good enough experience with a trauma-informed officer; and some even have a positive prosecutorial outcome. But other survivors do not want to do any of those things. Many simply want to move on; they do not want to put someone they know in jail, and/or do not want their parents to find out what happened, and/or do not want to endure an often long, arduous, and unfruitful criminal prosecution process.
We Believe You: Survivors of Campus Sexual Assault Speak Out Page 25