As many of you probably know, a Stanford student named Brock Turner was recently sentenced to six months in local jail for the rape of an unconscious woman in early 2015. His extremely light sentence, awarded to him by the judge because a longer stint in prison would have "a severe impact" on Turner -- as if that isn't the point of prison, has created a firestorm across the Internet and across the world from people who say that in light of the compelling, undeniable evidence of the sexual assault, Turner should have received a much harsher sentence.

The statements of Turner, as well as Turner's parents, begging for no time behind bars, demonstrate white male privilege at its worst. Turner blames his actions -- a drunken hookup, according to him -- entirely on binge drinking and a culture of "sexual promiscuity." In his letter to the judge, Turner's father laments the fact that the arrest has ruined Turner's appetite. To sum it up, Turner, and his parents, who may just be trying to protect their son, believe that he is the victim in all of this. And the judge, despite eyewitness testimony of the individuals that found Turner in the act of assaulting the victim behind a dumpster and a letter from the victim describing the profound impact that the assault has had on her, has chosen to believe Turner's narrative. The verdict shows that even in the judicial system there is a lack of understanding -- or complete disregard for the basic principle of consent: if someone is too drunk to remember anything (or remain conscious), they cannot consent to sex. And there is no such thing as sex without consent. That's rape.

As horrible as it is that this happened, that the victim will continue to be impacted by the events of Jan. 18, 2015 long after her rapist is released from jail, it's a positive sign that people are finally getting fed up with the victim blaming and the rhetoric sympathetic towards rapists, painting Turner, in this case, as the good kid who made a mistake. However, it's hard to know, as a bystander to the legal fallout of a rape that occurred over a year ago, how to channel the outrage surrounding one specific rape, into something productive; into a medium that will affect positive change so that no one else has to endure what the Stanford victim already has.

So much of what allows rapists to get away with rape without consequence, or nearly without consequence, has to do with rape culture, a series of societal assumptions about why sexual assault happens and what it looks like, that consistently blames the victims for "suggestive clothing" or "excessive drinking" while simultaneously normalizing male sexual violence; a "boys will be boys" mentality. If we really want to end the epidemic of sexual assaults nationwide, we need to go all in on combating rape culture in our everyday lives. As someone who's still learning, this is how I think this can be done.

1. Stop policing the behavior of women/non-men.

We live in a society that tells non-men "don't get raped" instead of telling men not to rape. It's the responsibility of non-men to protect themselves and remain constantly vigilant. This mind-set inherently leads to victim-blaming, asking "Why didn't you dress differently/drink less/fight back/stay home? Why didn't you know better?," when the correct question is "Why do men think it's OK to commit rape?" Please, stop policing the actions of non-men, as we should have the right to live our lives just as freely as any man, dressing, speaking, drinking and just plain existing free of fear and the threat of violence.

2. Start policing the behavior of men.

I mean it. Rape culture is perpetuated constantly, with the objectification of women, the glorification of "macho" male culture and male violence. It's important that we, and especially fellow men, start calling out men for contributing to rape culture. Call that dude out on his sexist joke. Pull your friend away if he's being too aggressive with a woman. Report that abuse photo on Facebook. It matters.

3. Start a dialogue about consent.

There's a lot of confusion surrounding the idea of sexual consent, what it means and what it looks like. Dispel this confusion. Too often we treat consent as a lack of a no when it should be the presence of a yes, an enthusiastic yes, before every sexual act, every time. Educate yourself and then educate others, about what it means to give and get consent. We're never going to be able to talk openly about sexual assault if we can't first talk about consent and change the way we think about the concept from something passive to something active.

4. Challenge what you see and hear in the media.

Films and movies are filled with examples of aggressive male behavior that is considered acceptable and appropriate (catcalling, aggressive pickup attempts, male violence and intimidation tactics) that totally isn't IRL. The news media, as we've seen with the Stanford case, has a tendency to sympathize with rapists while ignoring the experiences of victims and the mental/physical impact that sexual assault and any subsequent legal battles have on them. Do not accept everything as is. Knowing that the bias is there, question it.

5. Rethink gender norms.

Even while writing this article, I struggled to use pronouns that were inclusive and didn't reinforce the idea of gender as a strict binary. I still don't know if I succeeded. We're so used to talking and thinking about gender as an either/or thing, but in real life, gender is much more complicated, and a lot of what we think of when we think about gender actually has to do with stereotypes; preconceived notions of what a person looks and acts like based upon the gender they were assigned at birth. When we cast everyone into rigid gender roles, the idea that all men are inherently aggressive and dominant, while all women are more submissive, we're strengthening the argument that men must be aggressive to demonstrate masculinity and cannot control their impulses.

6. Share your story.

Nearly everyone I know that isn't a cisgender male (of course sexual assault can and does happen to cisgender males, too) has had an experience with unwanted sexual attention, sexual assault, or abuse. In the last year, I've heard a ton of stories from friends and acquaintances about experiences in which they experienced trauma because they didn't give outright consent in a sexual situation but felt it was their fault because they didn't refuse or try to stop it. It's so important to talk about these experiences; to, if possible, make our voices heard, because the more we speak the more difficult it will become for people to deny that sexual assault happens and happens often, in many contexts and forms, and is a serious freaking problem.