Two weeks ago, three white lacrosse players at Duke were accused of raping a local African-American college student who was hired as a dancer for their off-campus party. Since the story was picked up by the national media, some have criticized media coverage as sensationalistic, urging reporters to limit their coverage of the alleged rape to the facts.

The media and the district attorney’s office, however, are not sensationalizing the allegations; rather, they are reporting the facts of the case. And it is an undisputed fact that a rape is alleged to have occurred, and most of the important specifics will be argued by the parties and kept confidential until the trial. The circumstances of the crime—particularly, the many ways that power dynamics manifested themselves—are relevant because rape is done for power, and the national media is doing its job well by reporting on them. These complicating factors are, for example, racial issues (the woman was black, and she claims her attackers, all white, yelled racial epithets while raping her), class issues (the lacrosse team from a privileged private school paid to use a house for a party and paid a single mother from a state college to dance at the party), and college athletics issues (the woman was allegedly raped by the members of a college’s athletic team).

While critics of the media coverage focus their complaints on the intense scrutiny directed toward the athletic program and the players, they fail to see the many instances when the survivor is most harshly investigated. Victim-blaming is frighteningly common—the young woman at Duke has now been asked why she went back in the house, why she would work as a dancer, why she would have been at an all-male party in the first place. When someone is robbed or is the victim of another violent crime, our first thoughts are not, “Did they push back?” It is only for the most prevalent violent crime—sexual violence—that we create these undue burdens for survivors to prove that their accusation is legitimate, or that they were not at fault for their assault. A community that is silent and does not take a stand to support survivors allows these incredible emotional, legal, and societal obstacles to silence survivors’ voices.

Although it may be comforting to argue, as some have suggested, that such a violent act could not and does not happen at Harvard, such assertions are fallacious, dangerous, and insensitive. Members of high-profile athletic programs are not the only students who commit rape. If it were that simple, there would be no high-profile athletic programs, and rape on college campuses would be far less prevalent. In 2002, the Harvard University Police Department received 32 reports of “forcible sexual offenses” (and given that over 80 percent of assaults go unreported, the real number is likely much higher). In 2004-05, the Office of Sexual Assault Prevention and Response received 61 reports of individuals who experienced some form of sexual violence. Rape is not endemic to any one gender, sexual orientation, race, intellect, institution, geographic location, or class; there is no quality that provides immunity to sexual assault.

The media’s coverage of the Durham community has also been called into question. For example, The New York Times was criticized for reporting that players were out at a bar while other students held vigils for victims of sexual violence. It so happens that last week coincided with Take Back the Night (TBTN), a time to raise awareness about sexual and domestic violence, at Duke and UNC. Others have labeled the vigils and protests as melodramatic. Take Back the Night’s goal is to unite, to educate, and to heal. Obviously, the lacrosse players, and others as well, have a long way to go. When we say and do nothing, we show survivors—our friends, our family, and our loved ones—that we are not ready to be supportive and listen, and we show perpetrators that we will not challenge their behavior. The skill and knowledge to change a culture that tacitly condones sexual violence are things we can all participate in learning. It is not intuitive, and it is not straightforward. But it is vitally important.

The alleged rape at Duke should remind us of the importance of Take Back The Night (April 10-14). We spend 51 weeks of the year in a culture that tacitly condones sexual violence. We make the time and the space one night, Monday April 10, for a former NFL Quarterback, Donald McPherson, to discuss athletics, masculinity, and our culture of violence, and one night, Thursday April 13, for survivors to share their experiences at the vigil. If we all do our part to continue the openness of the supportive community that TBTN encourages—if we can see that rape is a weapon of power, recognize that rape happens at Harvard, and refuse to let the issue be shrouded in a silence of shame—maybe someday, possibly even someday soon, we can end sexual violence.



Leah Litman ’06 is a chemistry concentrator in Eliot House. She is a publicity coordinator for Take Back The Night 2006. Eric Fish ’07 is a social studies concentrator in Eliot House. He is a member of Harvard Men Against Rape. Karen Taylor ’06-’07 is a history and literature concentrator affiliated with Dudley House. She is an event coordinator for Take Back The Night 2006.