We need to hold ourselves accountable
Trigger warning: sexual assault, rape
We’ve been reading a lot about sexual assault in the news. These topics can be extremely triggering; this does not mean that we should avoid these topics, but that it is important to be cognizant of the environments and ways in which we discuss assault. As we have these discussions, we should be turning to check in with our friends and families.
On the heels of the Kavanaugh case, it came to light that a member of our own community had been on trial for the sexual assault of a fellow UofT student. While the general response was one of shock and horror, a number of people came forward to say that they had known, or that Sam Marello had made them feel personally uncomfortable or unsafe in the past. Following these revelations, we think it is important that we all take the time to reflect on our own experiences and the uncomfortable situations that we may have witnessed or ignored. Too often we don’t call people out for behaviour we can tell makes others uncomfortable, because we don’t want to get involved or be the one to accuse someone of assault. We need to hold the people that we know accountable for their actions.
We are afraid to attribute the words “rapist” or “abuser” to people we know personally. But the language we choose to use when discussing sexual assault can be damaging. Recently, a friend of mine was talking to me about a mutual acquaintance. She described him as being “weird,” and when I asked why, she said it was because he had sex with a woman she knows “without her consent.” The phrasing stuck with me because of the effect it had on my initial reaction. By avoiding the use of “rape” or “sexual assault,” the severity of the situation was entirely diminished. It’s just sex without consent. Except, sex without consent is rape. This reductive language perpetuates the fear to call out abusers. The mutual acquaintance my friend and I were talking about is a rapist and this shouldn’t be dismissed as “weird,” as if it’s a character flaw. We may want to believe that the people we know aren’t capable of the violent acts we read about in the news, but they are.
—Sabrina Papas, Editor-in-Chief
When people say things like “I didn’t mean to sexually assault anyone,” or “I didn’t realize I was coercing you,” or “I didn’t know you wouldn’t have consented—it was just a drunk, affectionate kiss between friends and anyway I’m not into girls,” that doesn’t absolve you from fault. The whole point is that we’re trying to change these normalized behaviours, and that means people need to step up and take responsibility and acknowledge their complicity. An explanation is not a justification. We already know WHY it happened. The point is we’re trying to stop it from happening again. Your actions have repercussions, whether or not you intend them to.
—Tamara Frooman, Senior Copyeditor
The facts of this story are unclear. I was a first year student at a party. A girl I had hooked up with previously was following me around in hopes of another, even though I had expressed that I was not interested and tired. I had plans to stay over at the hosts’ home in their spare room and asked them to help me go to bed. Two friends were kind enough to guide me; However, the girl also tagged along. I asked multiple times for her to leave but she joined me in the bed. I rolled away, asking my friends to get her out and proceeded to fall asleep even though her hands were on me. She claims the following did not happen, but three others say she proceeded to grab my crotch and butt multiple times while I was already asleep and kept pushing them away when they tried to get her to go. The next morning, I woke up with her next to me. I was uncomfortable but unaware of what happened. My friends told me later what they witnessed. I felt betrayed by the girl, not protected by my friends and physically gross. I am a man and this story is one of two times I was touched non-consensually. I have not done or said anything about either, but I should have.
—Anonymous
One of the most grueling consequences of sexual assault is the denial that follows the offense. There tends to be a lingering sense of disbelief that the assault had even occurred. It can be difficult to admit that you are the victim of an assault. When you believe yourself to be an intelligent, self-possessed, and confident person, there is a cognitive disconnect between the “you” that you wish to present to the world and the “you” that found yourself in a powerless position. When you have spent your life building your character, any assault—no matter how great or small—shakes its foundations. Most people, especially young women, are warned about sexual harassment or assault, but often in a way that puts the onus on themselves to prevent it. As a result, feelings of shame and guilt are rerouted to tell them that the incident was just a bad kiss, an unpleasant date, or a misinterpreted cue, because it seems better than admitting that someone took advantage of you.
—Jasmine Ng, Podcast Editor
