Thank you to those today and in the past who stand up despite how lonely, cruel, and sometime shameful it can be. The fact that it is being brought to the forefront is a start.
A short narrative by Anonymous.
“You can’t rape the willing,” they yelled from the windows as myself and others chanted outside the fraternity house. I can’t recall what we chanted, but it was a protest against my rape.
“Of course they will hide the truth, people want to send their kids here,” is what I told the anchorman that asked me a question.
Laura X visited my college and she said that the reason why the boys yelled, “You can’t rape the willing” is because there is a tradition in U.S. culture that black women are easy. I am Black and my male perpetrator is white.
Ms. X asked to interview me live. I declined. That was 1992.
My father called me a whore, my step-brother told me to leave those boys alone, and my step-mother said, “Well it wasn’t like he jumped out of the bushes or anything!” His fraternity brothers stopped me outside the lunch hall and said, “You all were already sleeping together!”
The truth is he raped me three times and I was a virgin. I was raped because I said no and fought back. I think my low self-esteem allowed for the repeats, but my courage made me report it to the campus police. I was going to try it in court, but my great-aunt who I love and adore told me not to. I met with the fraternity’s president and a school official. They told me he was expelled from his fraternity.
I was not able to find justice. I never will regret standing up.
