Rape is enshrined by a culture of gendered absolutes, in which men are assertive and strong and women docile and weak. (Jaclyn Wu, Neon Tommy)

 The talk began with drugs. On the first slide, front and center, was a photo of a girl passed out on a couch in the middle of a room at a party, surrounded by other girls who were drawing on her face and laughing. She had apparently been drugged that night.

When you’re passed out, you aren’t capable of saying no. So you should prevent yourselves from getting into that state.

The captain went on to discuss the popular date rape drugs GHB and Rohypnol, and how they can be easily slipped into someone’s drink at a party. He offered some “date rape prevention” tips" (more here) to conclude the section on drugs:

Don’t drink anything you didn’t open/pour yourself.

Don’t drink from open sources, such as a common punch bowl.

Don’t leave your drink unattended.

Have a sober friend.

 On the surface, these all appear to be valid points. Many women are victims of date rape, and knowing what you’re drinking certainly goes to having good common sense. But instead of feeling more in control of my environment and empowered from senseless victimization, I felt fear. Fear of going to a party on a Saturday night. Fear of letting loose and maybe meeting someone new. Fear that danger was all around me, and that I had the sole responsibility of policing my behavior and treating every man as if he were a potential aggressor. That I had no reasonable expectation of safety in a public place. 

 My hands trembled in disgust when the captain introduced the topic of sexual assault by announcing that since August of the 2013-2014 academic year, 17 documented instances of sexual assault have occurred on the Row. He broke down the number by the type of crime, which ranged in severity from rape to assault/battery to unwanted touching. Then, he reiterated some statistics that students in Greek life were all too familiar with, after seeing them twice from AlcoholEdu and GreekLifeEdu: as of 2010, 1 in 5 women will be victims of sexual assault, most victims are full-time students between ages 17-19, and 80-90 percent of assaults are committed by someone the victim knows. 

I applauded the attempt at transparency, fact-based content and detail, especially since USC is under federal investigation for failing to do just that. But one small part of his explanation of the types of sexual assault at USC struck me: the categorization of acquaintance rape and stranger rape. Captain Alegre specifically highlighted the difference between the two, less for the sake of statistical analysis and more to distinguish their differing degree of severity. 

Except there is no practical distinction. The relationship of the rapist to the victim has no bearing on the degree of trauma experienced by the victim or the culpability of the assailant. To attempt to draw these lines is to audaciously claim that anyone has the right to judge a victim’s experience, to tell her (or him) what she/he should feel, and to rank on a sliding scale the level of justice that trauma deserves. This approach further allows the assailant to maintain control over the victim, despite the fact that the process of bringing criminals to justice is meant to give control back to those who experienced the crime.

Some statistics about college men really brought out our fury. The captain listed, with rightful indignation, that: 

1 in 12 college men admitted to committing a sexual act that met the legal definition of rape.

1 in 5 men admitted that they “became so aroused that they couldn’t stop.”

35 percent of college men admitted that they would commit a sexual assault if they knew they wouldn't get caught (This particular line elicited gasps, angry expressions and murmurs of “that’s disgusting” from the women around me). 

Lastly, he cited the connection between alcohol and sexual violence: within the numbers above, alcohol consumption was involved in more than 74 percent of the assaults. No one was surprised. But the way this information was presented implied to me something else altogether: that 3 out of 4 times, alcohol made men rapists. Not male privilege, casual nonchalance about sexual violence or a sense of entitlement to women’s bodies.

Apparently, intoxication is what made men violent and women victims. 

I know from personal experience, however, that that’s not true. For two years, I have gone to parties where large numbers of intoxicated men, and even larger volumes of alcohol have been present. I danced, drank and socialized. But the men I met were not violent, and I did not get raped. You could say that I’m just “lucky,” and I feel that I am, simply because many of my peers at USC are survivors of sexual violence and not because I believe I engaged in “risky behavior” or “put myself in harm’s way.”

Drinking alcohol does make you uninhibited (even foolish) and lose track of your memories, but it doesn’t change what we know is right or wrong. It doesn't make forcing yourself on someone somehow okay, doesn’t make “no” mean “yes.” Living in a society that perpetuates rape culture and allows aggressors to enjoy impunity does.  

To finish the presentation, Captain Alegre reported that at USC, alcohol and reported instances of sexual assault are 100 percent related. He opened up a discussion to the audience, asking us what we can do to prevent ourselves from being vulnerable. We decided that the most important ones were: 

Never walk alone at night. Try to always be with a large group of girls. (To this the captain added, “and guys… but only if you trust them.”) 

Walk with a purpose.

Look strangers in the eye as you walk past.

If you find yourself alone, call for a ride from either Campus Cruiser or DPS. 

These are basic, important common sense tactics. USC is in an area with a high rate of violent crime to which many people, especially women, do become susceptible. But rather than presenting it as common sense, the main message of the presentation, as well as the language pervading throughout, was one of preventing vulnerability, of protecting ourselves from an invisible yet omnipresent enemy. One which implied that should we not do an good enough job, that should we fall victim regardless, that we would somehow share the responsibility in “allowing violence to happen to ourselves.” 

Sexual violence does not occur because there are victims. Technically, anybody in the world, male or female, could be a potential victim, because victims are just everyday people whose lives were impacted by a terrible trauma. A rapist caused those people to become victims, not because they drank and walked home alone, but because someone had the audacity to rape. The knowledge that they can later blame the victim certainly fuels that audacity.

The emphasis on saying “no” further places the burden of “rape prevention” on the victim. When we contend that someone must explicitly refuse sexual contact, we simultaneously imply that their silence implies consent, even if they haven’t actually said “yes” or given any indication to that effect. It entrenches patriarchal norms that endow men with the agency to further sexual contact while women remain passive. Highlighting the importance of an affirmative, enthusiastic “yes” to consent, however, would go a long way to making USC’s sexual assault policy a sex-positive one and empowering both men and women to clearly communicate their desires and their boundaries. 

After speaking to my sisters, however, I found that most did not share my objections to the presentation. When asked for a quote, one said:

I think it was a really well done and important presentation that all college students should hear, regardless of Greek affiliation…even though a lot of it included stuff we may have already heard, it is good that those things are reiterated and we keep consciously reminding ourselves that things like sexual assault and drugged assaults happen.

Others echoed these sentiments, calling the presentation “very informative” and having “presented the facts to help USC women make the best choices possible.” But another woman, specifically to the insinuation that men were threats to women’s safety, expressed her disapproval:

“That attitude is exactly what is wrong at USC.”  

I do agree that a lot of valuable facts was offered. I cannot, however, support their implications or the tone in which they were communicated.  

Sexual violence exists in a shroud of ambiguity: survivors hide their experiences, assailants deny any wrongdoing and the search for justice invariably becomes a game of he-said-she-said. But it is emboldened and enshrined by a culture of gendered absolutes, in which men are assertive and strong and women docile and weak, that the male libido is all-consuming and unrestrained, so that women must take it upon themselves to remain on high alert, perpetually ready to combat rape. 

The real enemy, however, is not rape. It isn’t alcohol, Greek life, horny teenagers, or DPS for implying that it could be all three. It is fear: fear that keeps us clutching our can of mace so tightly when we walk home alone at night that our knuckles turn white, that allows us to carelessly categorize our peers as violent or nonviolent by their gender and appearance and that holds us back from leaving the comfort of a circle of friends to go talk to someone new at a party. Fear did not have to be the theme of a conversation about drugs, alcohol and sexual assault, because there is a difference between discussing sexual violence as a fact of right now and as a norm on college campuses. This presentation could just as easily have made me feel safe, informing me of the many ways that the administration and the Department of Public Safety have, or will be amending their policies on adjudicating sexual violence and reducing gender-based hostility, so that survivors would receive justice, victims would report crimes, women would feel safe regardless of what they were doing and rapists would no longer be protected by impunity. 

But for now, I will be afraid, simply because the status quo demands it of me. But I will also be hopeful that one day, I might be proud of my university for engendering a safe, supportive and sex-positive campus culture. 

Ashley Yang's column "Unpopular Opinions" goes where most media won't. Reach Ashley here, follow her here.