Last night, I was dragged to “Take Back the Night,” a campus event to counter the silence surrounding sexual violence. I use the word “dragged” because I went without initially intending. I knew about the event, but figured that, as a man, I would feel uncomfortable at an event I perceived from the outside to be feminist in nature. Since coming to Wesleyan, I have been to many talks, lectures, orientation week meetings, etc, about sexual violence and felt that I did not need to attend another. I’d heard the depressing statistics and listened to personal accounts. But most of my friends were going, so I soon found myself marching with other participants to the Center For Arts.
I initially felt a little out of place while marching to the CFA. As other people chanted phrases like, “Stop the silence, end the violence!” I found myself not chanting loudly. I was one hundred percent on board with the cause of breaking the silence, but as someone who has not been a victim of sexual violence or a friend of any survivors (or so I thought), I felt more like a sympathetic observer than an active participant in the event. We eventually got to a field and sat down in a circle. For several minutes, there was complete silence and I hadn’t the faintest idea of what was going on.
And then people started to get up and speak. As I sat on the grass in that field, I was struck with the realization that I did know victims of sexual violence. With each person that walked into the center of the circle, I learned that another friend, a classmate, an acquaintance, a friend of a friend, had been a victim of sexual violence. These were people I knew, describing events that occurred at parties I had been to and on the campus we call our home. After each story, there were a few more minutes of silence. And after each period of silence, I thought the stories might be over. And again and again, another person I recognized or knew came forward to speak.
The occasional stories about more ambiguous sexual assault cases hit particularly close to home. Several narratives described mental intimidation or instances where a girl didn’t explicitly say “no,” but either suggested it or simply never said “yes.” I could understand how the guys in these stories could believe or convince themselves that they hadn’t committed sexual assault. I could see these guys casually mentioning their drunken one night stand to their friends at Usdan brunch or sharing their latest sexploit on a Facebook thread with friends from home.
It was clear from the largely female accounts that these men, who didn’t override a “no” but either never waited or too aggressively pushed for a “yes”, did something horrible. Yet the people described in these cases were not the prototype creepy Rufi-slipper or vicious sociopaths. So perhaps they would have acted differently if they had been to an event like “Take Back the Night.” Perhaps they would have acted differently if they had had the chance to hear victims they know talk about how a guy who others might just perceive as “a little pushy” or “somewhat possessive” could do something so terrible and traumatic.
“Take Back the Night” was in part so moving because all of these stories, ranging from sexual intimidation to physically violent rape, were told at the same event. Every story mattered, as all forms of sexual violence are clearly traumatic and harrowing experiences. Every story came from a student who was brave enough to stand in front of their peers as a testament to the fact that sexual violence isn’t a statistic or an issue you learn about at an orientation week meeting. It happens to people you know, in places in which you regularly spend time.
I encourage everyone, especially guys who think they’ve never been affected by sexual violence, to go to “Take Back the Night” next year. It isn’t a faraway problem, and it’s one that we can help to stop by listening to our peers who have survived.
Steves is a member of the class of 2013.
Leave a Reply