Women Who Don’t Speak Out:

A cultural critique on the illusion of change

TW: Mentions of Sexual assault, harassment, and trauma

Written by Maya Swan

Photographed by Kaitlyn Krueger

Designed by Gwenyth Bechtel

Disclaimer: 
Sources mentioned without the use of a last name are anonymous; all are women in their 20s. Fake names were given for the purpose of readability. 

In modern-day American society, sexual assault is decidedly wrong, yet survivors remain unsupported. Rape cultures’ remanence remains in social groups, universities, the workplace, and everywhere in between. Presently, attitudes toward sexual assault continue to prevent survivors from speaking out. Those that come forward face the consequences of being disbelieved or receiving no reaction at all. Progressive conversations surrounding sexual assault, especially what is shown of people speaking out online, is only a layer on top of what lies beneath, the truth that survivors remain conditioned to keep their experiences inside.

 Lacy M. Johnson's book, The Reckonings, details in a collection of personal essays the stories surrounding being raped. In the book, Johnson states, “perhaps it is useful here to return to those famous lines by Muriel Rukeyser: ‘What would happen if one woman told the truth about her life? / The world would split open.’ It is a powerful image. But though I have turned to these lines often, I think what she is saying has proved only partially true. Many women have told the truth about their lives, however impossible that may seem at the time, and the world has gone on pretty much as before.”  

The study, Hidden Rape: Incidence and Prevalence of Sexual Aggression and Victimization In a National Sample of Students in Higher Education, conducted by Mary Koss in 1985, found that 53.7% of women respondents indicated some form of sexual victimization and 25.1% percent of men revealed involvement in some form of sexual aggression. This study calculated numbers that had never been recorded before and helped coin the term date rape, a form of assault not previously recognized within American culture.     

There is somewhat of a culture shift in a post “Me Too” world. More people are speaking about their experiences as sexual assault survivors, and more perpetrators are being called out online. The definition of rape is becoming more widespread, and yet there is no significant numerical difference in the amount of assault and harassment occurring. Similarly, people aren’t speaking out for the same reasons they weren’t speaking out 50 years ago. Survivors believe they won’t be believed and that they will face scrutiny. And a lot of them don’t know that what they experienced was even sexual assault.    

According to the National Sexual Violence Resource Center, 1 in 5 women in the United States have experienced completed or attempted rape during their lifetime. 81% of women have reported experiencing some form of sexual harassment and/or assault in their lifetime. Almost 1 in 4 undergraduate women experience sexual assault or misconduct at 33 of the nation's major universities.   

1 in 5 women in the United States have experienced completed or attempted rape during their lifetime. 81% of women have reported experiencing some form of sexual harassment and/or assault in their lifetime.

Four anonymous survivors described our current culture's impact on how they viewed what happened to them and the response they received from those around them. "It didn't feel like it was that big of a deal,” said Lola after describing her experience waking up in a bed next to a friend’s brother she didn’t consent or remember having sex with the night before. Stating afterward that for her, she didn’t feel comfortable coming forward because of how well she knew the perpetrator, adding that from the outside looking in it seems much easier to take legal action when someone witnesses it, or the crime is committed by a stranger.  

A report in the Department of Justice in 2017 indicates 8 out of 10 rapes are committed by someone known to the victim. “This was one of my best friends at the time. And for me, I did not want to ruin his life,” said Roxie. Further adding, it was difficult for her to come to terms with the fact that she was assaulted in the first place. “I think it kind of puts it into perspective, a little bit of how a lot of the time when it's not rape, or it's not something extremely severe. A lot of people tend to just let it go and, and not think too deeply about it because, for a lot of women, sexual harassment and sexual assault is seen as normal,” she said.  

when it’s not rape, or it’s not something extremely severe. A lot of people tend to just let it go and, and not think too deeply about it because, for a lot of women, sexual harassment and sexual assault is seen as normal,

According to an article written for the National Institute of Justice, when the National Crime Survey was redesigned in 1992 and renamed the National Crime Victimization Survey, “interviewers began asking a series of questions about ‘unwanted sexual activity.’ The number of sexual victimizations disclosed to interviewers in the second survey shot up, and fewer of them had been reported to the police.” By leaving out the term “rape” in these surveys, perpetrators were admitting to these crimes, unable to recognize what falls under the umbrella of sexual assault. Confirming that rape and assault remain uneasily definable terms to perpetrators and even to those who are survivors of it, which continues to contribute to its underreporting.   

“It took me a long time to be able to say this happened to me,” said Charlotte after expressing how difficult it was for her to use the word “assault,” as it made the whole experience feel even more real. A reaction other survivors had as well. “I thought that this was not normal. And I didn't know why it was happening. But I didn't categorize it as an assault,” said Frankie after opening up about not understanding the severity of it until she later described what happened to a close friend. “That’s assault,” her friend said.   

Neil Callicoat, Title IX coordinator at Columbia College Chicago, said that “Title IX, as a law at the federal level has changed so often over the past 12 years. It's a bit of a political football every time a new administration shows up.” His job is to keep up with the ever-changing language and laws surrounding sexual assault and harassment and apply it to his work at the college. Keeping up with the changes in definitions is crucial in order for people to understand acts taking place around them and acts happening to them. Dangerous discrepancies can factor into whether someone comes forward legally or seeks help through counseling.

Title IX, as a law at the federal level has changed so often over the past 12 years. It’s a bit of a political football every time a new administration shows up.

Callicoat said that as a certified title IX coordinator and civil rights investigator, his job isn’t to persuade a student to take any particular action. Instead, the title IX office is there to explain to students what resources are available, such as counseling, no contact orders, filing a complaint, or moving forward with an investigation. “Someone who has made the report maintains their control and agency, they get the information they need, and they decide how they would like to move forward with the process,” he said.  

Whether someone decides to come forward and take legal action depends on what aligns with their comfort level and what they believe will be the after-effects of it. “I have had students tell me that they don't want to relive telling the story. And that is enough of a reason for them to decide not to file that formal complaint. I have had students say that their closure will be through a formal complaint,” said Callicoat.  

Alexandra Wilensky, 19, from Los Angeles, said that after being assaulted about two years ago, she went to the police department to make a statement. Earlier that day, a man had groped her while she was leaving a public bathroom at a protest in downtown Asheville. Thinking then, “I don't really know if I want to get the cops because that's a big part of why I'm here,” she said. Later, she decided that if she did, she could help prevent him from harming someone else. After talking to the police officers outside of the station, she was asked to tell the story of what had happened to her five times to three officers and two people at the courthouse. “I just had to keep reliving it over and over again,” Wilensky said.  

After making the various statements, the last police officer told her that they would give her a case number and would reach out with a court date; for a hearing where Wilensky would have to testify against the perpetrator face to face. After explaining her discomfort with that, she decided she didn’t want to move forward with taking legal action; Wilensky asked the officer if they could at least remove him from the area she was in, to which their answer was no. “I had done all of that for basically nothing…I felt less safe after interacting with the cops.” she said. The ability to speak about what she experienced and the motivation to act was halted by the traumatization that her interactions with the police caused, so worn down to the point where taking action didn’t even feel worth it.  

I had done all of that for basically nothing…I felt less safe after interacting with the cops.

Other survivors have trouble seeing the person they were assaulted by as a perpetrator, making it difficult to pursue legal action. The initial person survivors reach out to for help can drastically impact the way they view what happened to them. Charlotte, after coming to terms with what had happened to her, reached out to her therapist, who admitted to not being well-versed in helping survivors of sexual assault. The main thing they initially worked on together was finding ways to prevent a situation like that from happening again. Charlotte said it made her feel “like I should have done something more. And parts of it were my fault.” Which is a situation commonly associated with “victim blaming”, a tactic that reverts blame from perpetrators and points to the survivor, insinuating that assault can be prevented if different actions were taken. 

When Charlotte explained why she never moved forward with taking legal actions, she said, “the environment would not have been supportive towards that…I just had so much anxiety and fear of people not believing me,” she said. “I just felt like their reactions towards that would be like, ‘she's lying.’” Many survivors who don’t move forward with legal action reach out to those around them as an alternative. Frankie, after describing the response she got when telling her friends that she had been sexually assaulted, the perpetrator of the assault being someone in her friend group at the time, said, “everyone in the group knew better than to say I don't believe you, right? Not a single person I've ever told has been like; I don't think you're telling the truth. For me, it was all about actions that aren't taken.” After explaining what had happened, her friends continued to hang out with him as normal. “I wanted to see someone validate my justified rage. I wanted someone to not only say I'm so sorry. But take material action to prove it or to demonstrate care…And then nothing changed. Nothing ever changed,” she said. 

Frankie later reflected on the culture of her high school at the time, saying she was surrounded by many people who weren’t outwardly insensitive to serious topics such as sexual assault but passively took no action to show support in those areas. She recalled a story from her sophomore year. “My friend telling me about how one of our other friends had confessed that she thought her boyfriend raped her and that he then proceeded to tell me that he didn't believe her,” she said. Later reflecting that perhaps that culture and attitude towards sexual assault was there all along.  

I wanted to see someone validate my justified rage. I wanted someone to not only say I’m so sorry. But take material action to prove it or to demonstrate care…And then nothing changed. Nothing ever changed,

“He would still get invited to things,” said Charlotte, describing when she found out a close friend, who she opened up to about the assault, invited her assaulter to a party that year. When Roxie reached out to a close mutual friend to explain that she had been assaulted, she said, “he basically told me I was lying because his friend would never do something like that.” She said she also decided to confront the person who assaulted her, and the text she received back was, “my bad, lol.”  

Because most survivors are assaulted by someone close to them, it largely contributes to the way confrontations, and the response from those around them play out. Survivors and those close to them mostly don’t want to believe or admit their friend is a rapist. "I couldn't deal with the fact that everyone could just pick up their lives where they left them and move on where I was stuck. Fixating on this," said Frankie. “The most troubling thing about this whole experience for me and the thing that I needed to go to therapy for the longest was not what happened. It's how my friends reacted. That was the sticking point for me,” she said. 

 Feeling the need to protect the assailant, the fear of being doubted, or not understanding the classifications of sexual assault are things that halt holding assailants accountable. Many survivors are forced to find healing elsewhere. Whether it's through sharing their experiences with whom they feel safe, writing them down, or educating others, closure is seen in many ways. “It’s hard to hold on to all that,” said Lola. And what if a world existed where justice and accountability were a given, and survivors weren't left with the burden of creating that healing on their own.