In my silence, I became complicit

I remember the days when sexual violence was merely a daunting tale to me, a dark narrative placed far outside the safe haven of my childhood in a rural town. I miss the comfort and warmth that came with my ignorance. Today, when I fear drowning amidst the sexual violence epidemic that sweeps across universities, like my own, I dream of the blissful ignorance of my childhood.

My carefully curated illusion of safety first started to crumble when I was eight years old and two boys forced me to undress on top of the school jungle gym. Despite my loud cries and repeated pleas for help, countless parents who picked up their children mere meters away ignored me. Some of them looked at me with sympathetic gazes, but not one parent bothered to stop for a crying girl. After what felt like an eternity it was another child who helped me. Being unprotected for mere minutes broke the foundations of my childlike trust.

Nonetheless, in the decade following this experience, I desperately tried to hold onto my ignorance. I wanted to stay blind to the violence that was hiding in plain sight in the narrow buildings and cobbled streets of my hometown. I sought to be protected in the peace of oblivion again. I stayed silent when I learned that my friend’s welcoming home turned into a violent and threatening place when guests left. I stayed silent, when year after year, more of my friends disclosed sexual violence. Nagging doubts started to constantly plague my mind. Sexual violence started to impact my own life. The ignorance that had once carefully wrapped itself around me like a blanket was now starting to suffocate me.

At 23, I wish I could say I have fully let go of the ignorance of my childhood and youth. I wish I could say that my doubts and experiences caused me to take substantive action against sexual violence. I wish I could say that I protested loudly, acted fearlessly, and sacrificed my comfort when I heard from hundreds of survivors of sexual violence and harassment at my alma mater, the University of Edinburgh. Yet, I stayed silent when I read reports from thousands of students who face sexual violence at higher education institutions throughout the UK. I stayed silent when I listened to their painful stories and heard their pleas for justice and restoration. I felt their pain, but I failed to speak up. In my silence, I became complicit.

It was having to watch the pain of those I love that forced me to revisit the questions that I most liked to push away. Isn’t my integrity worth my discomfort? How can I stay silent when yet another woman, yet another friend, and yet another classmate is violated and subsequently victimized by the “justice” systems put in place to protect us on our campuses, in our lecture halls, and in our accommodation halls? Next to my studies, I work as a resident assistant. How can I peacefully sleep at night while perpetrators infiltrate our halls of accommodation and rape my residents across the hallway? How can I do my job with good conscience when I know that perpetrators can walk around comfortably while survivors are pushed into hiding? How can I stay in the shadow when young adults at universities are surrounded by violent perpetrators and a culture of silence and “justice” that perpetuates their trauma?

I finally reached my breaking point a few months ago. My words are constrained by confidentiality clauses, but on the smallest level, I tried to join those who take action against sexual violence and harassment at my university. However, my struggle has neither been victorious nor has it shown any achievements. The system that has been designed to suppress us has pushed me to inadvertently cause harm to those I meant to protect. Therefore, I am no longer willing to fight in silence. I am no longer willing to be constrained to flawed circular systems. I am sick of being gaslighted in the offices of those in power whose negligence creates an environment where perpetrators thrive. I reject their lavish lifestyles, their pompous prestige, and willful ignorance. I am not going to accept their feeble attempts to protect the reputation of the university.

While I am still trying to find my voice, those who have long tried to end sexual violence and harassment at higher education institutions in the UK inspire me and act as my paragons. Their campaigns and initiatives create tangible change for survivors and challenge the patriarchal system of oppression that attempts to break us. Their bravery in the face of continuous oppression outshines the cowardice of perpetrators and those who enable them. Their unbreakable spirits inspire me to speak up when I see injustice. I never want to be complicit in silence again.

Check out Rape Crisis England & Wales for further information on the sexual violence epidemic at UK universities and for further information on inspiring campaigns.