Editor’s Note: This editorial was written by Maggie Degnan, with contributions from other editorial board members.
Every year, the University of Wisconsin Police Department releases its Annual Security & Fire Safety Report.
The most recent report, released in Sept. 2022, showed an increase in the number of reported on-campus sexual assaults and rapes in 2021. Compared to 2019 and 2020, the reported on-campus assaults more than doubled.
On its surface this rate is alarming, but it has implications that surpass the knee-jerk assumptions that too often devalue and misinterpret the numbers.
Assaults at UW reported to alternative organizations like the Rape Crisis Center suggest the rate remained the same from 2019 to 2021, despite the increase in reporting. This might not sound particularly promising, but stagnant rates of assault with increasing reports reflect a positive change.
University Health Services violence prevention specialist Alex Nelson said in their field, increases in reporting are associated with greater outreach and general awareness of reporting options.
Similarly, executive director of the Madison-area RCC Dana Pellebon said in general, people have started having more conversations about what is and is not okay in the wake of the Me Too movement and Black Lives Matter protests of 2020.
The Badger Herald Editorial Board: MSU shooting highlights need for systemic gun reform
Both causes are intertwined — not just with each other, but with other calls to action against oppression. With more people learning what oppression is and how it operates within our society, conversations about formerly taboo topics like race relations and rape culture are starting to be considered normal and even standard in places like corporate offices and high schools.
If increased awareness can double the rates of confidence in the university’s handling of sexual assault on campus, culturally-informed approaches to education have the potential to actually decrease the rates of assault themselves.
For context, rape culture refers to social standards about sexual assault that lead to survivors being treated with skepticism and hostility, whereas perpetrators are shown empathy and are not associated with people accused of other serious crimes. Victims are blamed for their own assaults and asked what they were wearing, drinking, or doing moments before their assault. It permeates many atmospheres, including UW’s, and causes people who feel their identity or gender expression makes them particularly vulnerable to sexual violence to make sacrifices in an attempt to “avoid” an attack.
That’s another hallmark of rape culture — teaching women how not to get raped instead of teaching men that they should not rape people. Accepting rape as an “unfortunate but unavoidable consequence” of a woman’s existence — whether she be at a college party or in a country at war — is the standard upon which the castle of rape culture is built. Not only is this approach misogynistic as it inherently puts blame on the female victim, but it also disregards male victims, non-male perpetrators, and genderqueer and nonbinary people in their entirety. This reinforces binary gender roles and the suppression of every other gender identity.
This brings on another issue — even the conversations being had about how to dismantle rape culture center on the most privileged people and underscore the narrative with binary, heteronormative language. This limits the scope of the conversations and therefore the usefulness of such conversations for people who are affected the most — those holding marginalized identities.
That’s why talking about the intersection of different forms of oppression is so necessary — to combat sexual violence at its core is the most effective way to eliminate it from our society for all people. But what is at the core of sexual violence that makes it seem so complicated? If sexual violence is not about gender or sexuality, what could it be about?
In Pellebon’s words, sexual violence, though it includes sexual acts, is not about sex — it’s about having control over someone else. It’s about violating bodily autonomy.
Weaving consent culture and anti-racism into every setting where white supremacy and rape culture prevail is the only way to truly help people understand what is and is not an acceptable way to treat other human beings. But doing so might not be so easy.
The Badger Herald Editorial Board: Fall 2022 stories to watch
“It is possible that people are not aware … people who have perpetrated sexual assault, that rate is the same of people that know what it is, [18% of victims],” Pellebon said. “But this is why education and changing the culture is so important, because there is a lack of awareness around consent, around oppression, around control and around power.”
This point raises a topic within the conversation about sexual violence that is difficult to reckon with — many perpetrators of sexual violence do not believe they have done anything wrong.
If that’s true, that a majority of perpetrators are unaware of what consent and sexual assault look like, then a lack of education has to be contributing to their violent behavior. But Nelson said there are other factors that contribute to sexual violence.
When asked what these factors were, Nelson identified what they believe are a few of the culprits — including the high-risk drinking culture and the history of settler colonialism and white supremacy on campus.
The history of settler colonialism and white supremacy contributes to a climate where harm against BIPOC communities is expected and even excused. When harm against some is permissible, it normalizes harm against other groups. These groups tend to be those who hold marginalized identities.
With this in mind, conversations about sexual assault have to address misogyny, ableism, homophobia and racism, for example. We can and should recognize that anyone holding any identity can experience sexual violence, but also that it is of no coincidence the highest rates of victimization are among women — particularly disabled women, queer women, trans women and women who are not white.
To reduce sexual violence, we must change the culture that constitutes what consent is, including what consent looks like when those giving it are inebriated, or whether inebriated consent is even legitimate. The lines might appear less blurry if more people knew what coercion and sexual assault looked like — and that it doesn’t usually look like what we so often see in the media.
But it’s also important to keep in mind that sexual violence is extremely personal. Some people will never refer to themselves as “victims,” and other people will never use the term “survivors.” Some will use both, others neither. It’s important people feel comfortable identifying the way they feel is accurate to their experiences.
“Even if something fits the definition of sexual violence and that is not how you perceive it, I’m not here to change your perception of what has happened to you … feel free to use the terms that are comfortable to you,” Pellebon said of the RCC’s approach to definitive terms.
To navigate the often overwhelming and confusing conversations regarding sexual violence on campus, it is essential to acknowledge rape culture when it surfaces in the classroom, whether that be via course materials or student interactions. Currently, students are not required to discuss issues with consent culture when they appear in classroom materials or literature. But they should be.
Though we face an uphill battle against rape culture, white supremacy and overall oppression, it’s important to note UW’s main purpose is to educate, which is key for combatting rape culture. Our university is a tool — one which can be used for good or for bad.
