Two 18-year-old women were raped by three men at Johnson and Wales in Providence, Rhode Island. All three men were found not responsible.
The details of the case? The two women went willingly to an apartment, smoked, realized they'd been drugged, were sexually assaulted, couldn't fight back, and immediately called the police when they were capable.
Though the incident was back in October 2015, they men were found not guilty on February 22nd.
This information isn't easy to find. Students from JWU are some of the only sources reporting it.
Perhaps it's because the world knows how shameful this decision is, but doesn't care enough to do anything about it.
I am one of few, lucky women who has not experienced unwanted sexual contact or sexual contact without my consent.
Let's be clear: only an ongoing, sober, clearly given, not coerced, not pressured "yes" is consent. Silence is not consent. Clothes are not consent. You can't consent under the influence. A relationship is not consent. If the person doesn't resist, it doesn't mean consent is there. The only person at fault when consent is breached is the person who committed the act.
The rage I feel regarding the failure of justice for musician Kesha, as well as the girls at JWU, doesn't come from a place of having lived through what they have. For Kesha, it doesn't even come from a place of liking her music.
My rage comes from a place of watching women all around me suffer the same fate.
When women exercise the bravery needed to admit being raped and attempt to pursue the remedies they need to move on, they are turned away, not believed, ridiculed, and valued less than the money it may involve to help them.
I am angry but not surprised a woman as talented and loved as Kesha has been belittled in her womanhood and her humanity. Her monetary value was placed above her personal safety, and her rapist walks free without any sort of punishment or apology. It frightens me knowing Kesha has been so oppressed by the system she didn't seek punishment for her rapist - only to escape him. She wasn't even granted that escape.
If you're going to harp on the fact she said she didn't get sexually assaulted under oath, you have no idea how trauma works, no idea how long you may need to wait before you're ready to admit unwanted sexual content, no idea what slut shaming is, and no idea how scary admitting sexual assault can be. As a Title IX official, I do. I see it.
One of my friends is far away.
She had to leave because no one believed her and treated her like garbage when she asked for help with her own abuse.
No one tried to give her what she needed to move on. No one valued her personal safety and comfort over the time, resources and money it might have taken to give her justice.
Emma Sulkowicz carried a mattress around Columbia University just so people would realize she and two others had been violently raped by another student. She carried it across the stage on graduation day because she never got her justice.
Her university president turned away from her instead of shaking her hand.
Her assailant walks free and was allowed to take classes with her.
She had to explain how anal rape was physically possible to the panel that heard her.
I want to put my head in my hands and cry for her, but instead I am forced to watch my own back to make sure it doesn't happen to me.
People in my life have been hurt, pushed aside, harassed and traumatized. They've been driven from spaces they thought were safe. They've been forced to erase parts of their lives because the people they were meant to trust offered them no resources.
We're so bad at teaching people of all genders what consent looks like, many don't realize they were raped until years after the fact.
The assumption that a victim is lying or trying to gain something is a load. There is nothing to gain from coming forward, Kesha being a pragmatic example. All there is to gain is heartbreak.
I'm angry people try to decide what women go through for them. Perception is reality. You don't get to decide when you hurt someone.
You don't get to criticize a traumatized person for getting details wrong. That's what trauma results in.
You shouldn't get to err on the side of protecting the perpetrator, but that's a legal situation I don't want to dig too deeply into.
I am not surprised women all over the world are afraid to talk about unwanted sexual contact. I am terrified wondering how many women suffer this way but never say a word. I am upset by what Kesha's outcome has taught them. Our justice system has failed not only Kesha, but every person who might want to come forward in the future. They'll think if Kesha can't get justice, then neither can they. They'll continue to suffer, unheard and unloved, believing that violence and power wielded against them is a normal part of life.
I weep this continued injustice. I weep for every victim of rape, no matter their gender, no matter their anything. It is my firm belief that no one, no solitary person on the Earth, deserves to be raped. Ever. Under any circumstances. I believe in bodily autonomy, period.
Before anyone, even Kesha, beats me to it, I'll say this: if it comes out this was a total lie and Kesha admits she made it up because she didn't like her contract, then all the shame on her. The precedent she would set and the stigma she would create for victims would be a crime worth punishing.
Unless that happens, I will "Stand With Kesha." To me, standing with Kesha is not about Kesha as an icon or musician. It's about standing with every victim who's been through what she has.
My boss put it perfectly: "Rape is the only crime where our first instinct is to question the victim on whether or not it really happened. If someone tells us they've been mugged, we immediately ask: 'Oh, are you okay?' or 'Oh my god, what happened?'" We need to treat this crime the same way.
