At my job, I have taken on the task of writing a newsletter for each month of the semester, and each one centers around a different mental health issue. An article will describe the mental health concern, and then it is accompanied by two articles that may or may not be related to the theme for the month. January, my first issue, consisted of writing about anxiety, and then outlined the disability resource on campus and how to access their services, as well as an introduction to the law school's charming, competent, and adorable Student Affair's Counselor (me). It was an easy newsletter to write.
For February, though, I'm finding it difficult to write more than few sentences without stopping to find some adorable picture of a baby otter wearing overalls or something equally absurdly cute. The topic I chose for the month is Sexual Assault. With everything going on with Steubenville, Notre Dame, and becoming aware of what is happening locally, it seems like a really important topic to address. And usually, when I'm passionate about something, I can't shut up about it (if you haven't noticed already).
But this one is hard for me.
See, the thing is, I have seen a startling trend in these cases. In my perfect world (well, as perfect as it can be where sexual assaults still happen), a person who has reported that she (because while men can be raped, a large majority of rape survivors are women, so I'll go with that pronoun) has been attacked, she would immediately be placed in a bubble of safety. People she trusted would be at her side. A trained therapist would be there to help her process, as well as advocate for her needs. Accommodations would be put in place for her to feel safe, secure-- whatever that meant (change in class schedule, relocation for work [different office/work from home]). The person accused would be questioned immediately, with such dedication and concern assigned to individuals who has been accused of murder. He would have the burden of proving himself innocent.
I realize, immediately, the potential issue with this scenario. What if it's just someone crying rape? What if it is an ex-girlfriend scorned, and she's just looking for retribution? Yes. I'm sure this happens. But to me, it's a matter of what is at stake-- if the guy is innocent and people go probing into his life, and he's put in a horrible situation when he has done nothing wrong, that would be awful. But in that scenario, the individual accused is probably in a relatively stable emotional state, and while it would be difficult to have to endure that situation, it could be manageable. Awful. But manageable.
Instead, we have our system as it is now. A girl has been assaulted. You have the entire issue behind 76% of rapes occurring from someone she is at least acquainted with (sometimes intimately so), so she has to overcome all of the confusing feelings and guilt that come with being assaulted by someone you chose to have in your life. So she comes forward, reports the assault. And what happens? In a system of innocent until proven guilty, the accused has the benefit of the doubt, and the accuser (the traumatized) has the burden of proving she wasn't "asking for it." What were you wearing? Were you drinking? Have you exhibited poor judgement in the past with multiple partners? Do you have anything to gain by accusing this guy of rape (notoriety, bringing down a sports team, revenge)? Have you ever been in therapy for depression or anything else that could deem you unstable and therefore unreliable?
Ugh. Just typing those words makes me feel sick to my stomach.
And I guess it comes with personal experience. Transferrance. Because recently, I've been in a situation where I was uncomfortable. Felt things were-- inappropriate. Not to the extent of assault. But not okay. And I spoke up about the situation. And spoke up again. And kept bringing it up. The response I got was that I was being "too sensitive." That I was "being unfair." Eventually, I believed them. I felt crazy. I was having a very strong emotional response to something that should not have been happening, but everything around me was telling me that what was happening was okay. When I finally realized that my initial response was appropriate, and I was stuck in a system of enablers, I found my voice-- and I spoke clearly, assertively, and was still met with, "You're making a mistake."
It's scary to me that we live in a culture where so many things that are inappropriate are considered okay. That someone who is uncomfortable because their boundaries have been violated is the one that it is in the wrong, because she's being "too sensitive." Horrible things that happen in public are laughed about-- where will we draw the line? When will we say, "Wait a minute. That isn't okay"? We need to remove the excuses that we assign to inappropriate behavior and instead address the behavior. We need to stop putting the feelings of someone who is doing something hurtful above the person being hurt. Change can be hard. Change can be scary. But I can promise that it isn't harder than what the person who has been rendered silent in an unjust system is experiencing every. Single. Day. Surviving in a system where she is told that she does not matter, that what happened to her is not significant-- that she is merely an object that can be acted upon with no consequences for the actor.
Support. Validation. Empowerment. Even before all of these essential things necessary for healing after experiencing assault, is someone willing to listen. And not just listen to look for holes or defend the accused party-- but really listen. And hear what happened, and what it has done to the person speaking. After having the courage to say something, isn't that the least we can offer?
And because it cannot be viewed often enough:
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