April was Sexual Assault Awareness Month, and it got me thinking about the horrors of sexual assault. Many times when speaking of sexual assault, we will see statistics that make us forget that behind these numbers, percentages and data are real people. We become guinea pigs in surveys that ask us if we know how and where to report but never stop to ask us if we’re okay.
Statistics are necessary. They point out a problem and hopefully implement a solution to fix those numbers. But as we swim through all this data, we can’t let the victims sink. A few weeks ago, I had a conversation with a university counselor. I was trying to get helpful information as I embark on the difficult journey of starting an emotional support hotline on campus. This person kept asking me about statistics yet he only offered me one: 40 percent of students are on some sort of medication for emotional issues, yet a very low percent is seeking help outside of medication.
While the statistics are troubling because they prove that almost half of our students are struggling, what concerned me was the obsession with numbers. He spoke to me about surveys and 600 randomly selected students, yet not once did he treat these numbers as real people with real struggles who are not reaching out for help.
He seemed to care little for the actual faces behind these statistics. “You can’t force people to get help,” he said. While I agree with this statement, not giving students multiple options to reach out is not the way to deal with the very real problem we are encountering. Many times people are not comfortable reaching out in person.
I’m going to propose a drastic word problem, but one that still very much exists. Let’s say John Doe is a victim of sexual assault on campus. John Doe fears reaching out in person because society states that if he’s a man, he’s supposed to be stronger and not let rape happen to him (I know it’s absurd, but stay with me). John Doe doesn’t want to be made fun of. The likelihood of John Doe going to someone on campus is low, but he might reach out if his identity can be concealed, and that might empower him to speak up.
Next word problem: let’s say Jane Doe is struggling with depression. Jane is on medication but refuses to go to counseling because she’s had negative experiences before. Moreover, Jane refuses to speak about her problems with friends because of the stigma of mental illness in our society (i.e. anyone who seeks counseling or needs medication for an emotional problem is crazy). The likelihood of Jane Doe reaching out to counseling services is low since she’s had negative experiences. The likelihood of her talking to friends is lower because she’s scared of being labeled as crazy. Perhaps if Jane had a place to reach out to anonymously, she would find the strength to speak to her friends and family and get the help she deserves.
Notice something weird about my math problems? None of them have any actual numbers! Now, why is that, you may ask? It’s because I refuse to label people with a number. People like John and Jane deserve to be heard and more importantly deserve to be treated as human beings instead of numbers to be collected as data for an experiment. I am not trying to state that having multiple and diverse sources will make every single person reach out, however, it might help that 40 percent, and maybe even more! For those to whom counseling might not be a good fit, another option might work.
If a university brands itself as having a focus on the individual, then it’s time we stop calling Jane and John numbers, stop asking if they know where to go and start treating them as the individuals they are and give them the help we deserve. I am not a number, so please stop treating me as one.
