EDITOR’S NOTE: It is the policy of the Justice not to publish anonymous pieces. In this instance, an exception has been made. The identity of the writer has been withheld to allow the writer to speak without concern for privacy and safety, and to ensure that the identities of all parties involved are protected as well. Both the Editor-in-Chief and the Managing Editor know the identity of the writer and have confirmed the validity of the story to the greatest extent possible.

Six weeks ago, I was raped. 

My first reaction was confusion. I know a lot about consent and sexual assault. I’m an assertive woman, and I’ve never been shy about saying “no.” 

But this was the first time my “no” had been ignored. How could this have happened to me?

I had seen the protestors at the Rose Art Museum a week before, silent and angry. They screamed no words but emanated combativeness that could be felt a mile away. I felt no hate, no black bile when I first started to unpack what had happened to me. I didn’t feel angry or hostile—I was sad and numb. The protestors’ overt rage led me to question my own legitimacy—had I even been raped? 

At first, my lack of identification with these angry protestors at the Rose and the numbness I felt led me to believe that what I experienced was probably not a big deal, a miscommunication or just simply not the same controversial, hot-button issue. I almost chose not to report my experience, which would have further lowered the underreported, inaccurate statistics about the pervasive ubiquity of sexual assault, especially on college campuses. And unfortunately, I would not have been alone—according to the Centers for Disease Control and the Department of Justice, most survivors of sexual assault never report or go through the formal adjudication process, either because of their submission to the experience as an unsettling but somehow acceptable event or because they lack the resources and community to support them in taking action. 

In 2013, Brandeis received only six reports of sex offenses on a campus of 3,750 undergraduates, with zero in 2011 and 2012. With a national average of one in four women experiencing sexual assault over the course of their college careers according to the CDC, the number of reports Brandeis has received is shockingly low.

I am lucky to have friends who have served as peer counselors and are knowledgeable about the various campus resources for sexual assault survivors and prevention. They supported me and helped me to understand not only the importance of reporting my experience but also the often-unbearable burden that I would soon shoulder. Unfortunately, most people do not happen to have friends with this expertise and otherwise may have been relegated to ignoring the experience and moving on. 

Now, waist-deep in a Special Examiner’s Process, there are days I feel I am “carrying that weight” completely alone. The day of solidarity, during which students carried mattresses and pillows, was a beautiful and constructive display that touched me deeply. However, students hung a large banner from Rabb steps a few weeks before which read, “‘We’re not here to protect you, we’re here to prepare you for the real world.’—President Lawrence, Take Back the Light, 09/10/2014.” This sign was meant to be provocative and elicit a response, and it upset, irritated and alienated me. The banner, for which no context of the quote was provided, did not convey any specific constructive criticism but rather painted the administration as the enemy.

I take issue with the tactics of the nameless, otherwise unaffiliated group of protestors at the Rose, as well as those who hung the sign at Rabb, and those who have since engaged in similar actions around campus. These displays of protest are not only ineffective and counterproductive to their own goals but actively harmful to those they claim to represent. Spreading awareness is a noble and important goal, but in their attempts, they have alienated not just those they seek to protect but the administrators whose support is integral to improving the process that addresses sexual assault. Unlike Brandeis Students Against Sexual Violence, these protests neither outline their own clear, strategic goals, nor make specific requests in how they would like the administration to better fulfill their Title IX requirements or improve prevention efforts. 

The Rose is essentially the most autonomous organization at Brandeis, with completely separate benefactors, trustees and community. To protest during the “Light of Reason” ceremony was an excellent strategy to attract attention, but that attention provided no further momentum for the cause. 

The pressure it placed on administrators was not narrowly channeled to elicit anything beyond a statement from University President Frederick Lawrence. While their goals may have been further articulated elsewhere, on the face of it, their protest demanded a singular, questionably impactful statement from one individual. If there were further goals in the protest, these goals should have been clear to those present, requiring no further investigation.

Further, the disruption of the Board of Trustees’ meeting on Oct. 29 was just that—disruptive. In the video documenting the protest circulating on social media, the Board member clearly states that the Board was in the process of discussing that very issue. 

The allotted minute to speak was neither particularly impactful nor did it convey any new information to the Board. The intrusion into the meeting allowed administrators and the Board to view the self-appointed representatives of survivors as opponents, rather than allies. 

The issue is one of image: while attempting to regain the autonomy and power that survivors of sexual assault often feel they have lost, as I do, it is imperative not to embody the very hostility and aggression we are so desperately hoping to combat. It is absolutely crucial to maintain a public image that is both conducive to dialogue and welcoming to those who need support instead of polarizing the conversation. These protests, through their media-attracting display at the Rose, have in essence presented themselves as a representation of all survivors. This is, in fact, not the case, and that one-sided portrayal has been harmful both to me and to other survivors. Rather than isolating survivors who choose not to be public, efforts should be channeled into strategic and community-building efforts which unite rather than divide.

None of this, of course, is to say that the administration lacks responsibility for the deep flaws in the Special Examiner’s Process. There is an unfortunate lack of conversation and criticism of the actual process from both BSASV and from the group of protesters mentioned previously. In effect, these groups are missing the forest for the trees. The lack of communication and transparency I’ve experienced during the course of the investigation has been frustrating to the point of institutional abuse. The Special Examiner’s Process is poorly coordinated, and it seems that nobody in the administration has a clear handle on the rules or past precedents, resulting in constant mishandling of issues and confusion between all parties. The slow pace is simultaneously emotionally exhausting and keeping me up at night. I’m left wondering when justice will come, and am terrified that my attacker will be not found responsible. 

But to improve this challenging new process, student feedback is essential. And in order to obtain that student feedback, those who have experienced sexual assault must seek redress. If the campus conversation about sexual assault is so hostile and contentious that survivors aren’t comfortable identifying as such without feeling that they “should” be wearing duct tape on their mouths or carrying signs, they will not come forward and shed light on how truly pervasive sexual assault is. 

To the organizers of these various protests who are trying to represent surivors of sexual assault at Brandeis: consider the silent majority, those who are scared off by aggressive tactics like myself and adjust the campus conversation so as to be inclusive and productive. To those who have experienced sexual assault but have not reported it: we must create a campus unwelcoming to perpetrators of sexual violence and in order to do so we must understand how frequently it occurs. If, like me, you do not feel represented by these demonstrations, know that you are not alone.