TRIGGER WARNING: This content deals with an account of sexual assault and may be triggering to some people.
When you’re being raped time does not stop. Time does not speed up and jump ahead like it does when you are with friends. Instead, time becomes your nemesis; it slows to such an excruciating pace that every second becomes an hour, every minute a year, and the rape becomes a lifetime.
On May 25, 2011, I was raped by an acquaintance in Crossett Dormitory on Amherst College campus.
Some nights I can still hear the sounds of his roommates on the other side of the door, unknowingly talking and joking as I was held down; it is far from a pleasant wakeup call.
I had always fancied myself a strong, no-nonsense woman, whose intense independence was cultivated by seventeen harrowing years of emotional abuse in my backwoods home. May 25th temporarily shattered that self-image and left me feeling like the broken victim that I had never wanted to be.
Everything I had believed myself to be was gone in 30 minutes.
I did not report the rape after it occurred. Almost immediately after the rape I flew off to California, got lost in the beauty of the redwoods, the phenomenal art, and meeting the most unique people I’d ever beheld.
I blocked the rape from my mind and tried to convince myself that it hadn’t happened; that it couldn’t have happened. But there was no denying the facts.
One week before I was supposed to fly back East, everything rushed over and consumed me. My memory had been restored and I wasn’t sure how I would be able to hold myself together for that year, let alone for the upcoming three years.
When I returned to Amherst for my sophomore year, I designed a simple plan of attack for surviving: Business as usual combined with a new mantra I will NOT cry.
First semester passed relatively well, there were rocky times, but I kept it together. I masked fear with smiles. I mastered the art of avoiding prying questions. I drowned myself in work and extracurricular activities in order to hide my personal pain. I was unnervingly good at playing the role of well-adjusted sophomore.
It was inevitable though that this masquerade would become too overwhelming and that my façade would shatter.
In February twisted fate decided that I had to work with him on a fundraiser. E-mails. Stopping me in the gym and at the dining hall. Smirks. Winks. Pats on my back. It was all too much.
My masquerade was over.
I broke down and for the next several months, he won.
I spent most of my spring semester an emotional wreck. I saw his face everywhere I went. I heard his voice mocking me in my own head. I imagined new rapists hiding behind every shower curtain and potted plant. I bandaged the situation by throwing myself into more work and by resolutely refusing to acknowledge that I was anything but well adjusted.
Eventually I reached a dangerously low point, and, in my despondency, began going to the campus’ sexual assault counselor. In short I was told: No you can’t change dorms, there are too many students right now. Pressing charges would be useless, he’s about to graduate, there’s not much we can do. Are you SURE it was rape? It might have just been a bad hookup…You should forgive and forget.
How are you supposed to forget the worst night of your life?
I didn’t know what to do any more. For four months I continued wandering around campus, distancing from my friends, and going to counseling center. I was continuously told that I had to forgive him, that I was crazy for being scared on campus, and that there was nothing that could be done. They told me: We can report your rape as a statistic, you know for records, but I don’t recommend that you go through a disciplinary hearing. It would be you, a faculty advisor of your choice, him, and a faculty advisor of his choice in a room where you would be trying to prove that he raped you. You have no physical evidence, it wouldn’t get you very far to do this.
Hours locked in a room with him and being called a liar about being raped? No thank you, I could barely handle seeing him from the opposite end of campus; I knew I couldn’t handle that level of negativity.
When May rolled around, everything finally came to a head. My “Anniversary” was coming up and all of the terror that I had intermittently felt that year became one giant ball of horror that filled my life. He was still out there. He could get to me again. If I told anyone he would find out and do it again. No, no, no, no, no.
For my independent studies photography course I produced a series of 20 self-portraits representing myself before, during, and after the rape.
I showed them to my classmates. Their words stung like hornets: You look funny…I don’t get it, why are you so upset?
I went to the counseling center, as they always tell you to do, and spoke about how genuinely sad I was at Amherst, how much I wanted to leave, and how scared I was on a daily basis. “I should just drink darkroom developer or something…”
Twenty minutes later campus police was escorting me into an ambulance. They were even less understanding: There’s something seriously wrong with you; you’re not healthy and normal right now. No, you can’t say no. You HAVE to go, but don’t worry, you won’t have to be there too long. This is for your own good. Amherst cares about you and wants you to get better.
On May 5th I entered Cooley Dickinson Hospital’s Emergency Room. Three hours after sitting curled up and terrified on a hospital bed I was admitted into the Psychiatric Ward for depression and suicidal thoughts. The doctor was skeptical to say the least: I really don’t think that a school like Amherst would allow you to be raped. And why didn’t you tell anybody? That just doesn’t make any sense...Your anger and sadness right now seem unfounded and irrational, someone your age should not be this sad—it’s not normal. We’ll be admitting you in a few minutes, they’ll take good care of you. They’ll get you some drugs and they’ll make you feel happy again…If you don’t willingly enter we’ll have a judge issue a court order legally forcing you to stay there. Trust us, this is for your own good.
So much for not having to stay.
The Psychiatric Ward was a lovely place: the top floor of the hospital, bare white walls, Spartan furnishings, and two stainless steel locked doors at either end of the corridor making sure that anyone who goes in, stays in. Doctors and Nurse Practitioners wondered around the bare hallways checking in on myself and my fellow patients—every fifteen minutes they recorded where we were, what we were doing, and whether we looked happy. In the morning we were given our drugs; if you didn’t take them you would have to be there longer. It was in our best interest to take them, so they told us.
During the day we discussed our thoughts and feelings, our inhibitions, our strengths, but more often than not we did nothing.
When you’re forced to sit and think about yourself for hours on end, you go through four stages of existence.
Stage 1: Hysteria—Characterized by denying that anything is wrong, “I’m perfectly fine” and “I don’t belong here,” are common phrases during this stage.
Stage 2: Numb and Ornery—You have finally realized that something is wrong with you, but you are overwhelmed and confused about how to go about fixing your problem. You therefore decide not to do anything.
Stage 3: Determination—You realize that the only way you’re allowed to leave the Ward is if you “get better” and “solve your problems.” Every fiber of your being thus goes into these two tasks.
Stage 4: Enlightenment—Everything falls into place. Your mind is no longer an oppressive hell and it begins to function again. The outside world no longer seems so daunting.
You are then permitted to leave.
My Enlightenment occurred when I least expected it. Four days into the Ward, I was sitting in on an introductory Substance Abuse and Mental Health Rehabilitation meeting since there was absolutely nothing better to do. To start us off, the meeting leader decided to have everyone go around and talk about why we were on the Ward. We went around the circle: hours in rehab, drug relapses, alcoholism, abusive boyfriends, being an abusive boyfriend, and escapism from the stresses of daily life. The stories weren’t the superficial accounts that you read in a person’s medical file; they were real life. Every problem, every ounce of frustration, every personal tick was laid bare that evening. And everyone was open, not proud, just blunt and sincere; the desire to improve their lives was palpable.
Over the past four days, I had yet to touch upon “what I was in for,” my story was a mystery to everyone around me.
As my fellow patients went around the circle it all suddenly clicked. I realized why I never spoke about the rape, why I had refused to tell my school friends, why I had totally broken down, why I had steadily degenerated over the past few months. I was ashamed, and because of this shame I could not begin healing.
“Silence has the rusty taste of shame,” a fellow survivor once wrote.
I had been far too silent, far too ashamed.
That night I told them everything.
For the first time I told my story and I was not ashamed.
Later that night, as I lay in bed—still in an adrenaline induced state of wakefulness—I heard my roommate whisper my name, and then, a question.
“Are you still awake?”
“Yes.”
“Thought so…”
A long pause. She’d been in the meeting.
What was she thinking? What would she say?
“I just wanted to tell you, I…I know how it feels. My uncle raped me when I was 15. The police never arrested him. Rape “wasn’t their top priority.” It still hurts…You’re incredibly brave to talk about it…I rarely do.”
She was 42 years old.
I did not sleep. That night I realized that from then on I could not stay silent—if not for myself, then for my roommate.
I had reached the apex of Stage 4.
I decided that once I was released I would continue with my plans to study abroad that upcoming semester; I would be rejuvenated when I returned to campus in the winter, ready to take on the world and fight for survivor rights.
I would be strong again.
From the moment I woke, this plan hit one pitfall after another; a domino effect of roadblocks that continued for the next three months.
I sat at breakfast in bright spirits, attempting to carry on a conversation with a manic depressive woman who rarely talked. I was so genuinely happy that her lack of responses didn’t even bother me—I just talked at her.
In the middle of my stimulating conversation my harried looking social worker suddenly strode into the dining room and headed purposefully over to me.
She looked grim and angry. “They’re trying to prevent you from going back.”
I was shocked.
She began rattling off the Administration’s policy regarding students released from psychiatric care. In order for students to be allowed back they had to have parental supervision while on campus in order to make sure that the student did not relapse into substance abuse again (the most common reason for student admittance into the Ward). This meant that a parent would stay in a hotel near campus and would then follow their child around for two weeks until the “all clear” period was reached. “And since you don’t have parents…”
She trailed off awkwardly and began to resolutely examine the upper left-hand corner of the dining room.
I must have been speechless for a good minute as a bizarre series of emotions plowed me over.
Shock to incredulity, back to shock, to sadness to anger, back to shock again, then back to sadness, and then an overwhelming amount of shame and embarrassment settled over me. I’m not worthy of even going back; that’s how disgusting I am. I can’t even step foot on campus…
Panic welled up inside of me.
Did this mean I was trapped on the Ward forever? God, no, I couldn’t handle that. I wasn’t crazy!
Claustrophobia and paranoia dropped on top of me and I wildly scanned the room. I met my roommate’s eyes. She was looking at me with worry: What’s wrong?
The room stopped spinning, the walls went back to their normal locations, I could breathe again, and now I was angry. I told her flat out: Let me get this straight. I was raped on their campus. I had an emotional breakdown because I didn’t feel safe and felt harassed on their campus. I went to their counseling center, like they told me to, and I told them how I was feeling. They decided that I should be sent to the hospital. And now they won’t allow me back on their campus? They allow rapists back on campus, but they won’t allow the girl who was raped back? The girl who did nothing wrong.
She told me: Well, when you put it that way…
The maniacal grin on my social worker’s face as she walked off was wonderful.
Needless to say, Amherst let me back on campus later that evening. Five days after being admitted, I was finally released from the Ward.
The car ride back to campus with my dean was, also needless to say, the most awkward car ride of my life. I looked at her: You know, I’m really glad that y’all let me back on campus, for a while there I was pretty worried and I was actually preparing an argument for why I should be allowed back…
Her response: No, no, no! That’s not what happened, you must have just misunderstood the situation! We’re so happy to have you back! Amherst is just such a wonderful place, we know you’ll be happy to be back!
A big misunderstanding, I was skeptical.
In the following days I decided that my best policy when dealing with Amherst at the moment would be “let’s let bygones be bygones.” I quickly forgave the Administration and focused on just being happy to be out. On the inside though I was still dripping with anger, shame, and embarrassment.
Several days after my release I had to defend my chance to study abroad. My chance to leave campus for the first time in 8 months, my chance to relax and heal in a new environment, my biggest chance to revive my love of Amherst, and my chance to move on in life by studying what I truly love. The prospect had gotten me through the most frigid hours on the Ward and I was convinced that it would be the perfect way to continue my healing process.
I half-heartedly murmured, Your actions were understandable. I understand your policy when dealing with depression and students coming out of the Psychiatric Ward…during the meeting that included my dean and several of the campus counselors. Relief instantly flashed across all of their faces and the atmosphere rose in friendliness.
Then: The Ward was the best thing that could have happened to me. I have re-found my love of life and my desire to heal. I will never be 100% better, but I no longer feel like a victim. I’m a survivor, I’m strong, and I think that studying abroad will help me continue healing. When I return in the winter I’ll have a greater understanding of myself and a greater appreciation of Amherst.
They responded with enthusiasm: Of course! Very coherent explanation. You seem much happier, which is wonderful! We agree that going abroad and getting off campus will do you good.
Study abroad here I come!
I felt genuinely happy for the first time in a year, and I could not wait to head out.
At Amherst though, things are never that easy.
A few weeks after my release from the Ward I had a routine check-in with my dean to make sure that I was still doing well. I was excited to be leaving soon, and I must have looked quite content, sitting in her office with a million watt smile and bright eyes. I began to rattle on about how nice the warm weather was, how beautiful commencement had been, how great life was, on and on. She seemed distracted: Nod, nod…Mhmmm…Well, excellent! I’m so glad to hear that you’re excited about the upcoming summer here. I know how much you wanted to study abroad and how much work you must’ve put into it, but really, it’s for the best. Africa is quite traumatizing, what with those horrible third-world conditions: disease…huts…lions! You’ll be much better off here at Amherst where we can watch over you. It will give you some time to think about…you know…that…unfortunate incident…
My face was blank. “I’m supposed to go to Cape Town, South Africa…” Her response broke me down: Yes dear, I know. You were supposed to study in Africa. It’s all for the best that you aren’t though.
No one ever told me flat out that I would no longer be studying abroad. Not even the study abroad dean told me. I scheduled a meeting with her for two days after the meeting with my dean.
A few minutes after exchanging pleasantries she asked: What are your plans for the summer now that you’re on campus?
For the month of June I was decrepit, nothing could perk me up. I returned to feeling the embarrassment and shame that had consumed me before going onto the Ward. If I hadn’t told anyone about what happened I’d be abroad…If I had been stronger…If I wasn’t such a failure…This is all my fault, I really am just a broken, polluted piece of shit…
Living was difficult. Each day I woke up and wandered around in a daze. At night I stared blank faced at a wall and curled up in my chair in a fetal position. I couldn’t talk with people. If I talk with them they might become infected with my dirtiness.
I stopped eating. I stopped sleeping. I secretly hoped that one day on a run my heart would just stop and no one would have to see me again. I wasn’t worth anything anyway.
I continued having to meet with my dean; she blamed my sadness on not being allowed to study abroad, but I knew that it wasn’t that simple. I could live with not being allowed to go to South Africa at the moment, the country would be there for a while, but being forced to stay on campus in a dorm populated with men I did not know, that was the real psychological issue. Every time I told my dean that I didn’t feel safe on campus, that I wanted to be allowed to leave , or at least be put in a different dorm, I received the same unhelpful responses that I had received in February. They told me: You were lucky to be given a room here this summer in the first place, housing is tight right now and you really shouldn’t complain. All of your fear is ungrounded, Amherst is one of the safest places imaginable…If we let you leave campus we won’t know what mental and emotional place you’ll exist in when you return in September; you could become completely unstable! At Amherst we can monitor you, and, if need be, strongly suggest time off when the school year rolls around…
I felt like a prisoner, or, more accurately, like a harem girl. My jail was luxurious and openair, I was free to move about, the ruling power judged my worth on a weekly basis, and I was constantly reminded how lucky I was to be there.
One night, after a particularly rough meeting with my dean (I just don’t understand why you’ve been so angry throughout all of this. You have no reason to be angry about anything.), I was curled up on my floor—I wasn’t thinking, I didn’t feel anything.
I went over to the mirror on the back of my door and stared. What had happened to the girl who had come off of the Ward so empowered and strong; the girl who decided to no longer be silent and feel shamed? Where had she gone?
I went over to my desk and picked up a brochure I had been given about a survivor center at UMass Amherst. I gave an exaggerated sigh. Might as well…I called the number and made an appointment for the next day.
I went back to the mirror and stared at myself again.
For the next 15 minutes I repeated: “Silence has the rusty taste of shame.”
I walked over to my computer, typed up an email, hesitated for a second, and then pressed send.
I had just sent my entire sports team an email-rant about my rape and subsequent breakdown at the end of spring.
It was about time people began to realize that Amherst wasn’t just majestic dorms and world-class professors.
It was about time I resumed the silent pact that I had made to my roommate on the Ward.
I will not be quiet.
The next few weeks were a blur of unending days spent resolutely working to feel better (A friend told me: You can’t help other people if you feel like shit).
I was able to sleep again. I ate more. I went to free therapy sessions. I wrote and mindlessly colored in order to ground myself. I obsessively made lists of all the things imaginable. I joined a survivor group. I cried less and smiled a bit more.
I started healing.
It took a month of hard work until I was noticeably doing better. My friends, my therapist, my coworkers, and my fellow survivor group members all started commenting on how much healthier and happier I looked. I still felt uncomfortable and oppressed while surrounded by men on campus, but I was no longer afraid to leave my room after 7 p.m. I was determined to love Amherst again.
Life was tolerable.
Early July and I had another meeting with my dean: You look like you’re doing better today. Well done, I’m so glad to see this kind of improvement! I think it’s safe to assume that you can come back next semester, and in that regard I think that it’s time that we talk about your time at Amherst over the next two years…I know you want to do African Studies through the Five Colleges, but I don’t think I can support that decision. Africa is very traumatizing and I think that studying Africa is just a way for you to relive your real-life traumas; it’s just not a good place to be studying.
Over the next thirty minutes several more restrictions were laid out: no Five College classes this upcoming year, no study abroad in the spring, definitely no senior year thesis, I would have to meet with a counselor twice a week, and friends off campus would have to be pushed to the wayside. She told me: Amherst is the only place that matters, and, really, you don’t have a family, so where else would you go? Amherst is the only place that you can be.
At the end of our conversation I grunted out a vapid response and headed straight to my room. I sat on my bed, million-mile-gazed at the wall, and thought.
What was the point of staying at Amherst? I had been stuck on campus for eleven months straight; each day had been more challenging and emotionally draining than the previous one. I had been feeling better recently, but each time I met with my dean I felt more emotionally distraught than I had beforehand. Her comments reminded me that in the Administration’s eyes I was the most base individual: a poor and parentless humanities major who was the school’s token-Deep-Southerner. I was sullied, blameworthy, and possibly insane.
I made a Pros and Cons of Amherst List.
The Pro List had seven items.
The Con List had twenty-three items.
On July 14th I made one of the hardest decisions of my life.
I was going to withdraw from Amherst.
That next week I threw myself into finding a way out. Plans were made, plans were broken, Plan B was made, and finally Plan B was successful!
I did not tell the Administration for fear that they would somehow sabotage me. It was probably paranoid, but after being prevented from leaving campus multiple times I was not going to take any chances. The conversation went similarly to this:
“I’m withdrawing from Amherst.”
That was my greeting to my dean when I met with her in late July.
The look of complete shock on her face was priceless. When she recovered: So you’re taking a semester off? That’s perfectly ok, many survivors do, I think it’s best that you do what you…
No, I’m withdrawing, permanently. I ain’t planning on ever coming back. I’m going to transfer to another school after taking a semester off to travel around.
You can’t…You…Nobody withdraws. Where are you going to go? You don’t have parents. What are you going to do?
I’m working on a Dude Ranch in Wyoming.
…I didn’t think you’d be able to figure out a plan…Well, we technically won’t withdraw you from the school until three years have passed. After three years we’ll double-check to make sure that you really want to withdraw and then we’ll remove you from our current-students system.
No, I just want you to withdraw me. I don’t want to come back, I don’t want to be affiliated with your school anymore. I’m sick of this place.
I think you need to meet with our sexual assault counselor again, you’re way too angry right now and not thinking clearly. I have a feeling you’ll change your mind and come back. Amherst is one of the best schools out there, it will be a transfer down unless you go to an Ivy…
You know, I have I feeling that I won’t want to come back, but that’s just a hunch.
As my dean suggested, I met with our sexual assault counselor a few days later. The meeting was uncharacterizeable by one word, but bizarre might be the closest description: This is a bad idea, you’re not thinking straight.
I didn’t understand this. I’d been thinking about this for quite a while; I was unhappy at Amherst and I didn’t understand why I should stay at a place where I was absolutely miserable. There are other places in the world.
The next two hours was a hodgepodge of topics: Your lack of parental support makes you emotionally volatile and prevents you from following through with decisions that you make.
Apparently I had decided not to study abroad. Then there was bizarre ‘concern:’You don’t look very healthy. Have you been eating? I think you might have an eating disorder. You know there’s a great clinic in Northhampton where we can send you for in-patient eating disorder treatment.
I don’t have an eating disorder; I used to have one, I know what they’re like. I don’t eat a lot because I can’t afford to buy food.
Then the ranch came up: Do you realize how difficult working on a Dude Ranch will be? The people in Wyoming are different from the people at Amherst, they won’t be well-educated, and they won’t understand you. You’re going to a backwards place. Do you realize how bad it will be?
Yes, because the rest of the US is filled with ignorant savages who haven’t been saved by the light of Amherst. How would I ever survive?
To the counselor’s great surprise, these stellar arguments did not convince me to stay at Amherst. I became even more resolute about my decision to leave, and decided to talk with the Victim Rights Law Center, a pro-bono law firm based in Boston that my survivor group had recommended to me several weeks earlier. My preliminary intake with the VRLC was quite eye-opening: Oh Amherst? Yeah, unfortunately I know Amherst all too well. I’ve been down there many times to deal with the administration and their constant mistreatment of survivors. Our law firm keeps trying to force them to change but they just don’t seem to understand, they keep doing the same old thing.
Amherst has almost 1800 students; last year alone there were a minimum of 10 sexual assaults on campus. In the past 15 years there have been multiple serial rapists, men who raped more than five girls, according to the sexual assault counselor. Rapists are given less punishment than students caught stealing. Survivors are often forced to take time off, while rapists are allowed to stay on campus. If a rapist is about to graduate, their punishment is often that they receive their diploma two years late.
I eventually reported my rapist.
He graduated with honors.
I will not graduate from Amherst.
The stories and statistics are miles long in regards to sexual assault on campus. My story is far from unique, and, compared to some of the stories I have heard, is tame.
The more that I learn about Amherst’s policy toward sexual assault and survivors in general, the more relief I feel in deciding to transfer. How could I stay at a school who had made my healing process not just difficult, but impossible? How could I stand knowing that the Administration promotes silence? How could I spend the next two years made to feel dirty and at fault?
I could not.
At one point I hated Amherst with an indescribable amount of fury, but I do not hate the school anymore. Amherst took a lot from me, but they gave me some of the greatest gifts imaginable: self-confidence, my closest friends, intellectual curiosity, and endless personal strength. For these things I am forever grateful. For everything else, I stand back and behold the college with a feeling of melancholia.
The fact that such a prestigious institution could have such a noxious interior fills me with intense remorse mixed with sour distaste. I am sickened by the Administration’s attempts to cover up survivors’ stories, cook their books to discount rapes, pretend that withdrawals never occur, quell attempts at change, and sweep sexual assaults under a rug. When politicians cover up affairs or scandals the masses often rise up in angry protestations and call for a more transparent government. What is the difference between a government and the Amherst College campus? Why can’t we know what is really happening on campus? Why should we be quiet about sexual assault?
“Silence has the rusty taste of shame.”
There is no reason shame should be a school’s policy.
UPDATE: President Carolyn "Biddy" Martin has released a statement concerning this article and the follow-up steps being taken by the administration regarding sexual assault: https://www.amherst.edu/campuslife/letters_president/node/436469
You are a hero to so many people right now. Own that. It is insane to me that a college, a private institution, with more money that UMass Amherst, where I went, could be so clueless. It really brings to light the fact that 'Ive League' is really just about some stupid plant that grows on a side of a building. It doesn't make people smarter. If it did, the administration their wouldn't have had such a hard time doing what was right. Thank you for speaking out. Continue being brave. And don't let this forever make you angry or bitter. But also don't take shit from anyone! (I know you won't.)
Thank you so much for sharing your story. I was incredibly moved and inspired by your courage. Support from a MIT student!
I cannot believe that a "student member in a sexual assault prevention organization" would say the ignorant, glossed over things that you have just said about assault. Really? Is it sad for both parties? Really? You think this "should have been avoided" and that it was partially her fault by not verbally making it clear that she didn't consent to sex? REALLY? When did she say that? Am I missing something? What a lovely, thoughtful assumption of you to make! Job well done advocating for victims of sexual assault. Bravo. It is exactly this kind of "politically correct" thinking about "both sides of the story" that results in disgusting silencing policies like those described here. Rape is rape. And no, I haven't been the victim of any kind of sexual assault, and no, I am not speaking out of irrational anger from trauma, before you go ahead and assume that is the case. I am an American woman, who did not even attend Amherst, and my anger comes from your comments and people like you, who think that any part of this is OK, and place any blame or complicity on victims. It is not fair to place the mantel of responsibility for rape or sexual assault prevention solely on women. Women do not "ask for it" by drinking or dressing provocatively or flirting or not explicitly saying "no". Where is the call for men to explicitly hear "yes" before engaging in sexual activity that has any hint of ambiguity about complicity? Where is men's rage about this culture about rape? After all, by placing all responsibility on women, it assumes that man's natural state is "rapist."
Angie,
Thank you so much for sharing your story. For years, I thought I was crazy because I was withdrawing, but the weirdest part to me was my phobias/fear of going outside because i was afraid of rapists behind every damn corner or dark shadow. I am glad I am not alone. But thank you for sharing--you are incredibly brave; I wish you all my love and well-wishes. More power to you, girl!
From,
A fellow survivor.
Angie's story is horrifying. I thought surely by this time, with co-education, at Amherst the "God's gift to the world" attitude might have changed from when I graduated in 1957. Good for her.
Angie Epifano - you are a brave woman for having to deal with all this pressure and labeling by society. I strongly recommend that you read my theory on relationships and everything in life on. It's about striking the right balance and opening more relationships/cups. The only way you can get your mind out of it is to not be associated with it! It's hard to do so you need other things in life to make sure you are busy with happier thoughts! www.mycuptheory.wordpress.com Hope that you are doing better!
Thank you very much for being brave enough to share your story. There are no words appropriate for atrocities such as this.
i am sorry this happened. i wish you nothing but the best. i am sorry there is not more i can do for you. you are incredibly brave for sharing your story.
Hey girl, thanks for sharing your story with everyone. You are so brave, and you are so strong. Thanks for standing up and fight! You could tell this earlier, at a earlier stage; I know it is hard. Wish you the best.
Dear Angie,
I just wanted to say thank you for being so brave and standing up for yourself. Publishing this beautifully written article can't be easy, and I sincerely admire you for it. No woman should ever go through such a traumatizing experience like you did. The administration at Amherest is unbelievablely disgusting. The people there disgust me. To cover up rapes and encouraging victims to stay quiet is absolutely horrifying. They care more about the reputation of their school than their own students; doesn't that completely nullify their mission statement? College, no matter of what rank, is supposed to be an environment where students of BOTH genders can healthily thrive and individuals and intellectuals. I'm disappointed to say that the #1 ranked liberal arts college in American can be such a dangerous campus for women. They might as well just make it all male and open up more women's colleges in the country. I can't describe how wrong it is that the administration is treating the rape victim as if she were the perpetrator, while the actual perpetrator gets off unscathed - graduates with honors, even. Men who rape deserve nothing more than to be sent to jail for life. It's ridiculous how even rapists in real life can get away with as little as 2 years of jail time. This country does not realize how serious the issue of rape is in this country. Police officers: not the top of your priority list? No problem. How about if the genders were switched, and the men were the rape victims? What would you say then?
Angie, all I can say is that you have been an unbelievable inspiration to me. I truly admire you not only for the way you have dealt with this situation, but being able to share that story with the world. The world deserves to know, and you deserve for the world to know. May you forever be in happiness, and follow your dreams and aspirations. After all, if you can get through something as difficult as this, I am confident that you can get through anything. Best of luck to you!
A high school student and advocate for women's rights,
Gracie
I am so touched by and appalled at your story – it makes me question what my own school's institutional priorities are and how many of my friends or classmates have had to suffer in silence. Amherst, and any other peer/group/school that has ever ignored someone in a clear time of need, should be ashamed of itself. The widespread shaming of rape victims is despicable and so sad to think about – let alone experience firsthand. Thank you so much for speaking up and having the courage to share a story that is brutally candid, heartbreaking, and undeniable. The pages and pages of comments probably don't even touch upon the number of survivors, victims, or just average people like me that you have inspired with your words. Much love from Hopkins.
This story is so powerful that I actually don't have words other than Thank you. Thank you so much for sharing this story.
Dear Angie,
I just wanted to say thank you for being so brave and standing up for yourself. Publishing this beautifully written article can't be easy, and I sincerely admire you for it. No woman should ever go through such a traumatizing experience like you did. The administration at Amherest is unbelievablely disgusting. The people there disgust me. To cover up rapes and encouraging victims to stay quiet is absolutely horrifying. They care more about the reputation of their school than their own students; doesn't that completely nullify their mission statement? College, no matter of what rank, is supposed to be an environment where students of BOTH genders can healthily thrive and individuals and intellectuals. I'm disappointed to say that the #1 ranked liberal arts college in American can be such a dangerous campus for women. They might as well just make it all male and open up more women's colleges in the country. I can't describe how wrong it is that the administration is treating the rape victim as if she were the perpetrator, while the actual perpetrator gets off unscathed - graduates with honors, even. Men who rape deserve nothing more than to be sent to jail for life. It's ridiculous how even rapists in real life can get away with as little as 2 years of jail time. This country does not realize how serious the issue of rape is in this country. Police officers: not the top of your priority list? No problem. How about if the genders were switched, and the men were the rape victims? What would you say then?
Angie, all I can say is that you have been an unbelievable inspiration to me. I truly admire you not only for the way you have dealt with this situation, but being able to share that story with the world. The world deserves to know, and you deserve for the world to know. May you forever be in happiness, and follow your dreams and aspirations. After all, if you can get through something as difficult as this, I am confident that you can get through anything. Best of luck to you!
A high school student and advocate for women's rights,
Gracie
Rapists everywhere, be afraid.
Be very afraid. We will bust your ass.
My anniversary is February 17. When I reported my attacker, the Disciplinary Board decided there just wasn't enough "Clear and Persuasive" evidence and did nothing to him. My mother told me that if I sought justice through a criminal or civil trial outside the university that my financial aid would mysteriously disappear and I would be forced to drop out. He's my neighbor now. I hear he prefers Asian International students now because of the perception that they won't fight back as much as I did. I also found out that he raped my girlfriend, the most beautiful soul I've ever seen and currently the love of my life. Now I'm at the point where if he ever tries to touch her again, I will collapse his trachea and watch him struggle for breath until the ambulance arrives. There is no point in dominating a "dominater" if he doesn't live to remember it. And I don't care what he does to me in the process, as it will finally be that damned "physical evidence" the administration has always wanted.
My anniversary is February 17. When I reported my attacker, the Disciplinary Board decided there just wasn't enough "Clear and Persuasive" evidence and did nothing to him. My mother told me that if I sought justice through a criminal or civil trial outside the university that my financial aid would mysteriously disappear and I would be forced to drop out. He's my neighbor now. I hear he prefers Asian International students now because of the perception that they won't fight back as much as I did. I also found out that he raped my girlfriend, the most beautiful soul I've ever seen and currently the love of my life. Now I'm at the point where if he ever tries to touch her again, I will collapse his trachea and watch him struggle for breath until the ambulance arrives. There is no point in dominating a "dominater" if he doesn't live to remember it. And I don't care what he does to me in the process, as it will finally be that damned "physical evidence" the administration has always wanted.
I'm a Sexual Abuse and Assault Peer Advisor at another institution, and I just want to commend you on your bravery in sharing this story. We stand beside you.
I go to a school in California. A friend of mine found this article and sent it around. I don't know if you will ever see this, but if you do, we're all with you. We're on the other side of the country, and we're with you. I've been spreading this around amongst my friends, too, and their reactions have all been amazement at how brave you are to put this out there for everyone to see, and that the conduct of the school is disgusting. I don't know if this helps you at all, or if you still need help at this point, since it sounds like you've recovered incredibly well, considering all the obstacles in your way, but know that you're not alone, and that many thousands of people, including many who, like me, have no idea what it's like to go through what you've gone through, are on your side.
Also, I don't know if you can understand this (I say that because I don't think I could if I were in your position), but I'm male, and I'm here too. We aren't all like him.
Be strong, you are brace enough to tell everybody this unfortunate story, and truely, Amherst didn't do well on this issue. Ignore others' comment, live your own life. It's understandable that you are so scared and afraid (if I may get it that way) that you didn't report that rape on time, If I were you, I would do bad, too.
I salute your courage.
Live your own life, don't let others control you.
Mingjian Zhang, a Chinese student.
Hi, you did a great job in dealing with this miserable incident. You are brave enough to tell everybody, although its embarassing for you to say it, no one would ever mock you for this. You are incredibly brave and strong. Frankly, Amherst didn't do it right, but you need not to care about what they can do to you, save yourself, and it shows that you did a great job. We salute your courage, and I hope you can enjoy your life in the future.
Thank you for sharing your story, I will always be on your side, I love you.
Mingjian Zhang, a Chinese student, acknowledged this accident through Renren.
Thank you so much for writing this.
Angie, your story is an important one and the injustice of your experiences is ... I don't think I can put in to words how I feel and I'm afraid that any words that I write will not be enough to change today. Hopefully your words will create change for the future.
To Amherst staff -
Your institution was created for the benefit of students in spite of that you sacrifice their safety to protect the school? The fact that these "enlightened" and "professional" individuals view the rest of the globe as barbaric and yet traumatize and harass Angie is ironic. When an organization is founded on the principles of individuals freedom, growth, and happiness sacrifies its goals to protect itself, it has lost its mandate. If Amherst had neglected its duties that would have been appalling. But having minimal or no punishment for offenders and incarcerating Angie is beyond words and amounts to protecting and encouraging criminal behavior.
Thank you for your bravery; and thank you for fighting for others. I truly wish the best for you!
Thank you for posting this. You're so brave to come out like this, and on the internet too. Just know that you are not alone—I mean, just look at all the comments to your article. It's a shame that Amherst's administration mistreated you this way. Now I'm wondering whether my school is better than that, and hoping that it is.
Thank you so much for sharing your story. It still boggles my mind that colleges handle rape so poorly. You are so strong, and I wish you the best of luck with your education. I hope that this story will help enlighten other colleges how to properly take action.
This story horrified and moved me in equal parts-- I am truly sorry for what you had to go through. Please do know that there are thousands of people who feel for you.
I am truly ashamed that Amherst has had such a pervasive history of victim blaming. I still think that the administration's current response is far below adequate, given the huge number of people who have stepped up to share similar experiences at Amherst. This is completely unacceptable at Amherst, and any other College in America. I am sure it is a wake-up call for all schools, Harvard included, that by merely stating a policy in brochures is not the end of their responsibility. All colleges should review the actual functioning of their counselling departments. Thank You for your bravery-- you should become a national advocate for reform. I am sure you will get a lot of support.
In my case, I did not ask for help because I did not want the situation could turn MORE hurtful. I was afraid to be beaten, it's survival ...
The editors of the Amherst Student should be praised to publish this article even though some of the contents might have been subjective and hard to verify. Amherst is surely disgraced to have failed and lost a student like Angie.
...in all the years since I was a student. As a Smith student, I was warned about what's now called "rape culture" at Amherst; if we went to Amherst parties (especially at the frats), we were advised to stick with other women if we didn't have a (trusted) date. I was lucky; my only unwanted sexual contact was a creepy guy trying to grope me on a 5-College bus. (Then again, after freshman year, my friends and social life were at UMass and on the Smith campus, not at Amherst.)
You're very brave to speak out, and I hope the wide publicity this story's getting will make the changes which have been far too long in coming. May you continue to heal, and find happiness and wholeness now you're free of that poisonous place.
The Amherst College Administration is really terrible in caring more about its institution's interests and ultimately business rather than the people it deals it with, for whom it exists - its students. I already see this post flying over Facebook pages of all my friends from different colleges. I think it will have the impact it rightfully deserves, and consider this a big hit to Amherst' image and reputation(really just exposing reality, that was so methodically intended to be left in the dark). Congrats to Angie for summoning up the courage to write this post! Upcoming high school graduates will definitely have a chance to consider Amherst in its true image (and probably avoid it and similar places).
The Amherst College Administration is really terrible in caring more about its institution's interests and ultimately business rather than the people it deals it with, for whom it exists - its students. I already see this post flying over Facebook pages of all my friends from different colleges. I think it will have the impact it rightfully deserves, and consider this a big hit to Amherst' image and reputation(really just exposing reality, that was so methodically intended to be left in the dark). Congrats to Angie for summoning up the courage to write this post! Upcoming high school graduates will definitely have a chance to consider Amherst in its true image (and probably avoid it and similar places).
The Amherst College Administration is really terrible in caring more about its institution's interests and ultimately business rather than the people it deals it with, for whom it exists - its students. I already see this post flying over Facebook pages of all my friends from different colleges. I think it will have the impact it rightfully deserves, and consider this a big hit to Amherst' image and reputation(really just exposing reality, that was so methodically intended to be left in the dark). Congrats to Angie for summoning up the courage to write this post! Upcoming high school graduates will definitely have a chance to consider Amherst in its true image (and probably avoid it and similar places).
projectunbreakable.tumblr.com
"Project Unbreakable was created in October of 2011 by Grace Brown. Grace works with survivors of sexual assault, photographing them holding a poster with a quote from their attacker. Grace has photographed over two hundred people and has received over a thousand submissions. TIME magazine has also named it one of the top 30 Tumblr blogs to follow.
If you are interested in participating by submitting in your own image, you may send an email to projectunbreakablesubmissions @gmail.com, and the pictures will appear at olapic.com/photos/projectunbreakable. If you are interested in being photographed, you may send her an email at projectunbreakable @gmail.com with the subject line "Photograph Me."
Note: Grace, or anyone else associated with this project, is not qualified to give certified advice on this subject. If you are struggling, RAINN has a free, confidential, 24/7 sexual assault hotline: 1.800.656.HOPE(4673). RAINN also has an online hotline: https://ohl.rainn.org/online/ "
I read this article yesterday and have been thinking about it a lot.
First - I applaud you for standing up and telling your story. Change does not happen without brave people who put themselves out there. You did not have to do this you could have faded into oblivion. So thank you for sharing your story and hopefully the comments (well the 95% that are positive) give you strength that you are not an outcast, that it is not your fault, and you do not stand alone.
Second - Hopefully this is a wake up call to Amherst and all institutions. Students are not just your products, they are not just a revenue source, and you are more than just a 'brand'. Shame on the institution even if just one of these instance happened, but to repeatedly disregard a human...a living breathing person like that, not OK. I hope to Amherst change policies, donate money to a local organization which helps woman and raise awareness around Sexual Assault and Abuse. Additionally, they need to take a look in the mirror and understand the students who they are recruiting and accepting into their institution. YOU are responsible for types of people on your campus.
Finally - As a male who respects woman to the fullest. There is a special place in hell for men who treat woman (or other men) like this. Who dare to even think, joke, or contemplating doing something like this. It is one of the most despicable actions you can take. I hope just one person who has committed a like action reads this article and my comment and realizes what a horrible person they are and what a horrible cowardly, disgusting action they have committed.
Thank you again for sharing this story - I hope this helps brings solace to yourself and wave or change to the 5 College area.
This an apalling example of a higher education institution's endeavors to obscure violence against female students, blame-shame them into silence, to marginalize their fears, concerns, and opportunities, limit the college's legal accountability, and to make a piss poor attempt to backtrack and save face in the wake of a public relations nightmare. Silence does, indeed, have the rusty taste of shame. Your efforts, Amherst, compelled and demanded this young woman's traumatic silence for far too long. Shame on you, Amherst College.
Thank you for being strong enough to share this. I know it may not always seem that way, but you ARE strong. You were hurt and betrayed by so many, and now your story could help change things. The sad thing is, that the sort of attitude that Amherst displays is seen all over. I've talked to women who had cops tell them that the rape was their fault, who had school administrators tell them to have sympathy for their attacker and to just not sit next to him in class, and who have faced disbelief everywhere. It is NOT OKAY.
For those who consider this a despicable act that has been repeated all too often, as an alum's mom and a Smith Graduate, I say-- don't give them any money, and tell them why. If you continue to give, you condone the status quo. The President's letter is a step in the right direction, but my wallet is closed until there is meaningful change.
President Martin, Clearly the college was concerned only about continuing the illusion that Amherst College is "safe" in order to protect its statistics. If any real change is to occur, local police should investigate claims of rape. Women should be referred to area rape crisis programs for assistance. Those who worked with this woman should consider other lines of employment.
There is nothing for her to gain by lying. Truth sets a woman free of self condemtion and allows society to have an understanding about a college they may send their child to. Every school has tragic episodes (they deal with teenage kids), but to cover them up is unacceptable. My guess would be that this is why there statistics are so remarkable.
Dear Writer: your narrative is shocking, and your narrative is part of your recovery. Rock ON, and find safe harbor. You have become your own best teacher. Dear World: I read this as a tenured professor at a private liberal arts college that's in the "top 25"-ranked of such places, so I know whereof I speak. These schools are obsessed with their status and privilege and image, and will do *anything* to protect it. It is precisely when ruptures of their image happen -- bodies, emotions, accusations -- when the colleges defer to utterly unqualified mid-level administrators (these various counselors and para-admin. groups you were subjected to), who in turn invoke outside institutions and their vocabularies -- The Law, The Mental Health Establishment -- in order to Administer these problems into submission and oblivion. Foucault offers theoretical ballast here. And because feminism and militancy have been suppressed by absurd invocations of "civil discourse," and at the student affairs level, "mediation" and "safety" (for whom?!?!), students and faculty (I assure you) who get caught up in these charades are really deeply abused. You are well out of there, Dear Writer, blaze your trail. And others: BEWARE. Read, analyze, declare, RESIST, EXPOSE. These privileged bastions deserve to be stormed.
Women are capable of abusing other women and men are raped too. Don't limit your argument to traditional thought.
My son was raped by a Colgate security guard who still works for the school. But he was depressed, drunk, asleep and had a previous alcohol incident when it happened. The security guard lied but was believed by a disciplinary board. Why would he lie they said? But the school keeps no records of complaints against their security guards and the Dean didn't know that... but "process was followed" and nobody along the way wanted to say: "wait - none of this makes sense" which it didn't and they know that. Penn State or Colgate or Amherst. They all operate in the same manner. I hope my son will smile again someday. He was always the happiest kid before Colgate... the place that then Colgate President Chopp assured me he would "find his passion". Question: How do we effect change at these places? They follow laws apart from those of society. BTW: counsel said don't press charges in court because local court is beholding to the school and it would be too expensive and we would likely not win... plus my son couldn't handle it. PS: Kudos to Amherst for publishing this remarkable story - thanks!
Interesting that in the 20 years since I've was at Amherst, Crocket is still known for the same thing. President Martin, please help us create a campus culture that doesn't tolerate sexual assault. It is wrong. It will be punished.
Over the past two days, I've been obsessively following comments on this story and any media attention it's received (so far it seems to be two college papers and Jezebel).
I can't stop thinking about this. I can't stop thinking about the (much less detailed) stories I heard while I was at Swarthmore about our administration's similar problems in dealing with sexual assault and survivors. I can't stop thinking about the way that I said, "That's horrible," and then pushed those thoughts off to the side and did nothing, even though I have friends who are survivors. None of my good friends who had disclosed to me had been assaulted at Swat. I didn't want to look at my safe little bubble of a progressive school that way. So I pushed it aside. Two days ago, I read this article from a link on my Facebook newsfeed, and I can't stop thinking about it.
I want to apologize. To the survivors at Swarthmore who I did not stand up for. To the survivors I have met, whether or not I knew it, whose own suffering I may have compounded with ignorant or unreflective words and actions. To all survivors, everywhere, whose shame and silence I have contributed to by having allowed rape culture to speak through me. I am sorry. I am sorry for your pain. I love you. All I can promise is that I will always love you and that I will try to be better, to challenge myself and our society to support survivors, prevent sexual assault, and end rape culture.
Angie, thank you. Thank you for your bravery, both in doing your part to wake up the world, and in breaking your own silence as part of your healing process.
With love to all,
Amber
Hi Amber,
I appreciate your concern for Swat survivors, but for this survivor, it is misplaced. I was sexually assaulted in high school, and Swat was the first place where I began to deal with what happened to me. The Deans, CAPS, and my Swarthmore friends looked after me in a way that even my parents did not. The people at Swarthmore were the first people to believe me--my friends in high school had used all the "boys will be boys" comments, and Swarthmore was the first place where I realized what happened to me was not my fault.
The school tends to see more shades of grey in rape cases where alcohol is involved, and that one dean (I'm sure you know who I'm talking about) was bad for everyone, but the administration on the whole was very supportive and caring. They listened to me and gave me what I needed from them, but also respected my wishes when I turned down measures they offered that were unnecessary.
All in all, my experience as a survivor at Swarthmore was very different from Angie's, and I don't believe that this story can be seen as a direct allegory to the Swarthmore experience. I hope that is comforting for you to hear.
Deut. 22:23-25 is very explicit:
"If a damsel that is a virgin be betrothed unto an husband, and a man find her in the city, and lie with her;
Then ye shall bring them both out unto the gate of that city, and ye shall stone them with stones that they die; the damsel, because she cried not, being in the city; and the man, because he hath humbled his neighbour's wife: so thou shalt put away evil from among you.
But if a man find a betrothed damsel in the field, and the man force her, and lie with her: then the man only that lay with her shall die."
Was the victim "in the city" or "in the field?" Amherst College does - or did in my time - use its rural setting to attract applicants. Furthermore, the area of the attack was - and here I'm open to correction from people more familiar with the campus geography - in or adjacent to a field being prepared for the construction of the science center.
Thank you, Mitt, for laying out the legal niceties so cleverly
Angie's story is agonizingly painful to read. I applaud her bravery in speaking out about the rape, and hope it both helps her heal and helps other survivors with their trauma.
From her piece, it sounds like Amherst and Cooley Dickinson hospital's employees consistently mishandled the situation. It's hard to read her account and believe that Amherst/Cooley Dick handled things as they ought to have. That said, I hope we'll all recall that this is only one side of a story.
I'm surprised by the total rush to judgment about Amherst by the community. When I went to Amherst, I watched the Administration make mistakes, but I don't recall them being evil in the ways Angie's account implies. I hope that hasn't changed. Most of us will probably never hear other sides of this story. But I am impressed by Biddy Martin, the new President, and hope her investigation yields truths, however hard they are, and change where necessary.
Thank you for writing this account. It sounds like a horror film in actuality. Shame on the school's administration and most importantly, the boy who committed the crime. It's sad to hear that he did not respect you, and seemingly, neither did his friends. He's missing out on a large part of the beauty of life, when one is deaf to the needs of others, both from a personal standpoint (the rapist) and a bureaucratic standpoint (the administration). What you had endured was so traumatic and so seemingly unimportant to others. But it's only those of us who are brave enough to take a stand and vocalize our concerns, demand an end to the violence and injustice. So, I just want to say, you are so incredibly brave. I literally have no doubt that the rest of your life will be filled with love and joy. Only thoughts of peace and love being sent to you from my way.
What a remarkable essay. This piece of writing is impressive, not only because the experience of acquaintance-rape Angie went through is relatable to so many young women, but because it effectively serves the greater purpose of exploiting a dysfunctional aspect of the administration. The essay is thoughtful, well written, and hopefully instigates change at the college.
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