The following is a guest post from UMBC alumna Juliette Seymour, MCS and GWST ’14, who was both inspired and incensed by the recent “Me Too” campaign. Although this widespread social media initiative has shed light on the pervasiveness of sexual violence and assault in our communities, Juliette writes about follow-through and next steps. 

Content note: Sexual abuse, rape, trauma

Me too. Me too. Me too. Me too. Me too. Me too. Me too. Me too. Me too. Me too. Me too. Me too. Me too. Me too. Me too. Me too. Me too. Me too. Me too. Me too. Me too. Me too. Me too. Me too.

Me too.

It’s endless. I cannot count the number of the “Me too” Facebook status I have seen since Sunday night. If you are not on Facebook, to provide some backstory, actress Alyssa Milano tweeted (a co-opted message from activist, Tarana Burke):

Screen shot from Alyssa Milano’s twitter: “If you’ve been sexually harassed or assaulted write ‘me too’ as a reply to this tweet.” Inset text reads: “Me too. Suggested by a friend: ‘If all the women who have been sexually harassed or assaulted wrote ‘Me too.’ as a status, we might give people a sense of the magnitude of the problem.”

Since then, my Facebook feed (and everyone else’s) has been nothing but “Me too’s.”

I posted one, deleted it. Then sat with a rock in my stomach. I’m used to this rock. It’s been with me since I was a child. This rock varies in size and weight, sometimes it’s small and manageable. Other times it’s large, growing past my stomach into my chest and throat making it nearly impossible for me to take deep breaths or speak. It’s grown as I have; the seemingly constant sexual abuse and rape that has happened throughout my life adding weight to this rock. You know this rock if you’ve experienced any sort of abuse/trauma. It sucks.

Quilt square from The Monument Quilt.

I sat with this rock in my stomach for a while. My overactive mind weighing the pros and cons of this campaign (I don’t know if that is the proper term, but honestly, I’m not here to overanalyze that aspect). Should I repost? Why did I delete it? Why did I hesitate to post in the first place? Why did it feel wrong?

Then it clicked.

We’ve already stood up. We’ve already put a mark on our backs. We’ve already gone to the police to be dismissed. We’ve already sat through questioning from everyone, and I mean, everyone – how long was your skirt, did you drink, have you had sex before, why were you out at night, why did you let them, why didn’t you say no, have you had sex with them before, aren’t you married, why didn’t you fight back, didn’t you want it at first, why didn’t you say something sooner – to be told it was our fault. Even though it is never EVER our fault.

We’ve been through this motion before.

Think of all the people who have stood up and said “Hey, Bill Cosby/Woody Allen/Donald Trump/Harvey Weinstein/Sean Penn/Dr. Luke/My friend/My family/Your friend/Your family/etc., has raped/sexually abused me.”

What happened to the survivor? Now, what happened to the abuser in these situations? If you don’t already know the answer, take a moment, think about it. What happened to Trump? Cosby?

The answer is nothing. Nothing happened to them. Hell, one of them is sitting in the oval office.

Where are the Facebook statuses of abusers/rapist saying “I did it” so we can understand the severity of this? Where are my supposed ‘allied’ cis men standing up to their friends when they make rape jokes, or catcall? Or rape. When are we going to start holding abusers accountable? When are we going to refer to our brothers and fathers as rapists, instead of our sisters and mothers as victims? When are we going to ask why did you rape instead of why were you raped? When are we going to teach how not to rape instead of how not to get raped?

Quilt square from The Monument Quilt.

When are we going to actually listen to survivors? And then when are we going to do more than just…listen?

I don’t have all the answers. I wish I did.

But what I do have is this:

First, and most importantly –  If you posted a Me Too status, if you didn’t, if you don’t believe that your story is “real” enough, if you are not safe or comfortable enough to post; I see you. I hear you. I believe you. You are not alone. And I love you.

Second, and almost as important – Now what?

I’m not going to post a Facebook status, sit back, and pretend it did something. I’m not going to do that, and I’m asking you to do the same. And I know it hurts, it’s painful, uncomfortable, and seems impossible. Trust me. I know what it feels like to not be able to speak the things that happened to you (and very slowly getting to a point where you can kind of talk about it in therapy). I know what it feels like to be retraumatized with panic attacks and sleepless nights following. I know what it feels like to have to live with your abuser. I know what it feels like to question, “Was it rape? Was it my fault?” (and accepting that yes, it was rape, and no, it’s not my fault).

I know.

But, we have to be uncomfortable, we have to work through the pain, we have to support each other in our respective journeys to healing.

Quilt square from The Monument Quilt.

So here is my action plan. To hold myself accountable, and to provide a possible road map for you. I do not know what your story is, how your healing will come, or what will happen. Hell, I don’t even know if my plan will work. But for right now, it’s all that I got:

1. Go to therapy
2. Delete Facebook off my phone (at least for a few days)
3. Check-in with myself (you have to put the oxygen mask on yourself first) and then friends
4. Start volunteering with the Monument Quilt again (the studio is close to my house, and I made myself email them before finishing this post to ensure I followed through)
5. Look into support groups for survivors

IMPORTANT NOTES:

I cannot stress this enough to my fellow survivors: This is in no way to shame or put down those who have found comfort/strength/healing through this hashtag Facebook thing (I still don’t know what to call it). I hope with all of my heart that this creates a sense of community, love, healing, and will do the thing it’s supposed to do. This is not directed towards those who find healing through these means, I’m happy you have that. I am SO happy you have that.

This is me wanting more from society. Not you.

And, it goes without saying, but I’m going to say it: ABUSE/RAPE HAPPENS ACROSS ALL GENDER LINES. WOMAN, MAN, TRANS, GENDERQUEER, NO GENDER, ALL GENDER. IT HAPPENS TO EVERYONE.

And, an important note on race: I am white. This is my white perspective. Race obviously plays a role in this. I do not feel adept to write about that. I do not want to assume/overpower or write for POC because their voices should be raised.

Quilt square from The Monument Quilt.

• For more information and resources related to sexual assault and gender-based violence, visit our website or contact the Women’s Center at 410.455.2714.
• For more information about reporting at UMBC, the sexual misconduct policy, or Title IX, visit UMBC’s Human Relations website. 
• The photos above are from the Monument Quilt. For more information, visit their website.

When I was asked to take a picture for something that “I rise” for, I had to think about it for a second. What do I rise for? Who do I rise for? What does it mean to “rise?” After reflecting on my own life experiences, I wrote that I rise for reproductive rights.

Reproductive rights are the rights of an individual to reproduce and have reproductive health. My definition of reproductive rights expands to include sexual education and health. Today, not everyone has access to reproductive rights, or even comprehensive sexual education. Personally, I believe that it is extremely important for people to have access and knowledge about the different options that are available. As I was growing up, my family never taught me anything about reproductive or sexual health. When I got my first period, I told my best friend before I told my mom, because I didn’t know how she would react. Even after I told my mom, we had a brief conversation about how to use a pad, and that was it. The only sex ed that I received was the short unit in 5th grade, and a semester of Health Class in high school. When I got my IUD, I didn’t tell anyone except my closest friends and my partner. Why are we, as a society, treating these topics as taboo? Why isn’t it normalized to have discussions about your periods or your sex life or your birth control?

I am privileged enough to have health insurance, and when I decided it was time for me to be on birth control, I was able to have access to a health care provider who assisted me in the process. Not everyone has this privilege to be able to do so, even within the United States. Not everyone has the opportunities to converse with someone who can provide them knowledge. Not everyone has the access to health care providers due to lack of insurance, or insufficient insurance coverage.

I believe that every person should have the ability to make their own choices about their body. I believe that every person should be able to decide whether or not they would like to have children. I believe that every person should have access to services that can assist them in making an informed choice. If that makes me a disagreeable person, then so be it; I would much rather see people receive basic care.

This Critical Social Justice Week, I will be rising for reproductive rights. I will be rising for those who do not have access to birth control. I will be rising for those who do not know about the basics of sex. I will be rising for those who are shamed for having their period. I will be rising for access to health care. I will rise for myself, and for those who cannot.

I Rise for Reproductive Rights.

Critical Social Justice: Rise is here and we kicked off the week today as we always do with each Critical Social Justice (this is our 5th annual!) with CSJ 101. As the kick-off to the week, CSJ 101, creates the foundation for the issues and themes we’ll explore during Critical Social Justice.

This year’s Critical Social Justice theme is Rise.  As we discussed in CSJ 101, to us, Rise is the call to cultivate individual and collective resistance and resilience within social justice issues and movements. We hope that CSJ events throughout the week will challenge us to think about the importance of both resistance and resilience by examining how we can do better, do more, and persist in doing it. During this particular cultural moment in our world, how do we rise to meet both opportunities and challenges in an effort to work toward a vision of inclusive excellence—whether it’s in the classroom, online, or in our communities?

To get folks excited for Critical Social Justice, leading up to the start of the week, we asked UMBC community members what they rise for and here is (a sampling) how they responded:

Messages from above photos include: “Those who are silenced in our society,” “violence against women,” “Women in STEAM,” “radical empathy,” “all students to succeed academically,” “reproductive health and justice,” “Islamophobia and religious oppression,”  “the folks that don’t think they can,” “those who are too scared to speak out,” “those who are learning to find their voice,” and “social justice.” 

At today’s CSJ 101, we took that founding question and explored not just what we rise for but why we do it, why it matters, and what we do to cultivate resiliency in our movements to create positive social change. Led by co-facilitators, Amelia Meman from the Women’s Center, and Dr. Julie Murphy from Psychology, participants sat together in groups and shared with each other how resistance and resilience takes shape in their lives.

Over the course of the event, Julie and Amelia deconstructed Rise by parsing out what participants were rising for, and how they planned to manage that. The conversation began with Amelia discussing how the metaphor for Rise helps her deepen the theme: the sun rises every morning without fail, and sheds light on both the glaring problems and the glorious beauty of the world. We are bid, every morning, to rise and find solutions or to celebrate. The issues we find, as well as the blessings can be new, but they can also be ancient.

Just so, Julie discussed the lessons we can learn from Dr. Adrienne Keene, our keynote lecturer, as well as the history of activism in the Native American community. As a people that has been actively fighting for their rights and for power, social justice activists can learn a lot from the collective and individual resistance, as well as the resilience of indigenous peoples.

To get the ball rolling, groups first began with a discussion of “resistance.” They answered questions like What do you rise for? What are you most passionate about? From these questions and the ensuing discussion, the following points were raised:

• Despite the very wide range of topics that we covered, as well as the diversity in experiences, everyone who was gathered in UC 310, was present because they wanted take the next step in creating social change. Many brought up the recent political climate and news stories, as impetus for attending this event.
• Activism isn’t just showing up to a rally with a sign. In fact, it has to be such much more than that! Activism is often a life calling and woven into the fabric our academic endeavors and careers. For some, survival is engaging in resistance and activism.
• Resistance is also about accessibility and inviting others into the movement. Creating tools that are readily available to others is important to help others participate in positive social change.
• Individual actions contribute to collective actions and change. Both the individual and community are essential.

After talking about resistance, we transitioned into talking about “resilience.” The group discussed their answers to questions like How do you continue rising? How do you stay engaged? How do you take care of yourself/others?

• Julie shared her family’s post-2016 election activity. She and her family were passionate about resistance and had many issues that they cared about. Julie noted that everyone in her family noted that they would have to quit jobs/school/everything in order to fulfill the work that they wanted to be done. Rather than doing so, Julie and Family made a list of everything they cared about and strategized the things they could do individually and the things they could do as a family. Rather than burn out by doing too many things, Julie and Family chose reproductive rights and justice as the issue that they would work on together as a family.
• One participant provided the insight that resilience and activism can be about understanding resources and getting people connected to them. Amelia piggybacked off of this statement and added that as a social worker, we understand that we don’t have to do everything, because we can’t possibly do everything. Social workers can only do what we have competency in and what we feel comfortable doing–and everything else can be helping people get connected.
•  Similarly, another participant brought up that she used her unique talents, strengths, and skills to help where she could: as a Greek folk dancer, she decided to visit a predominantly Greek senior living facility and perform. The seniors there were excited to take part and were able to feel more connected and active. That was what this student could do and offer. We all can benefit the causes we care about by highlighting our strengths no matter how big or small they may be.

At the same time as CSJ 101, other CSJ volunteers and staff were outside on Academic Row at Chalking For Change asking passersby that same foundational question and encouraging them to share “Why I Rise.”

Messages from above photos include: “respect and tolerance,” “human rights,” “get beyond ‘book learning,'” “black women,” “the deaf community,” “Sandra Bland, Trayvon Martin, Philando Castile, Mike Brown,” “for the full inclusion of immigrants and refugees,” for the full inclusion of LGBTQ + women in public office,” “more mental health resources for POC and LGBTQ POC,” and “social justice + love.” 

From the conversations at both CSJ 101 and Chalking for Change, it is evident that what motivates community members to rise up for social justice and social change is diverse and varied. It could even feel overwhelming to think of all the work that awaits us. Yet, as discussed at CSJ 101, individual actions contribute to the actions of the community. Our individual passion and work influences the passion and work of the collective. We are not alone. Together we are better. Together we can make a difference on our campus, in our neighborhood, and throughout the country and our world.

So, why do you rise? 

We invite you to join us for the rest of this week’s Critical Social Justice: Rise events. Contribute to the conversation or follow along on social media using #CSJrise.

For more Chalking For Change photos and videos, follow the Women’s Center Facebook page. 

I Rise for the Validation of Our Identities...

In my sophomore year of high school, I promised myself I would wait until I was in college to explore my gender identity and expression more, presuming that would be a place where I could do so more freely, back then, at my rural, red-county high school, it just wasn’t worth the stress and alienation.

That promise was followed by a series of panic attacks at a gynecology appointment, an impulsive short haircut and upheaval of my wardrobe, and a denouncing of my birth name. My commitment to staying quiet lasted all of two weeks.

That’s not to say that after “coming out” I followed a solid, steady path to self-realization, self-acceptance, enlightenment—whatever you prefer to call it. It’s hard enough trying to define my feelings toward gender to myself some days, much less anyone else. Sometimes I go through the motions of a day in a daze, untethered to the people around me because of an inability to anchor onto a sense of identity within myself. There are still situations, namely family ones, where I choose to keep silent rather than deal with any form of confrontation, places where I have numbed myself to the sound of my birth name for the sake of self-preservation. My identity and presentation thereof is anything but solid; I suppose that’s why I call myself genderfluid.

Throughout high school, I was “in” and “out” of the closet so much it was like I had left my jacket in there. If I didn’t talk about my gender, it felt like I was lying, but it wasn’t as if anyone acknowledged it even when I did. By the end of my senior year, being proudly genderfluid was more exhausting and frustrating than it was worthwhile.

It wasn’t until the last day of classes my senior year that I felt the real impact of my being “out” in the relatively unwelcoming environment of my high school when I was approached by two non-binary identified freshmen who I had recognized from my weekly LGBT Alliance meetings. I had assumed my presidency of said group was relatively inconsequential, that I had served as an obligatory student leader who sat at the head of a circle of gay teenagers having their own unrelated conversations. The two freshmen, though, asked me for a hug and thanked me for the club and the experience they had had that school year. I was blindsided, but swelling with pride; I had never considered that my own self-acknowledgment would mean something to anyone else, or felt that strong an attachment to my non-binary identity beyond just myself.

This Critical Social Justice Week, and every day, I rise for those two freshmen and their ability to stay confident in who they are. I rise for my fifteen-year-old self, and the part of them that knew their identity wasn’t something to be pushed down. I rise for those who can’t speak up about vital parts of themselves, in hope that one day they will be able to.

I Rise For Those Who Are Silenced In Our Society…

What does this mean? Who is actually silenced? Of course, everyone can speak up... right? Not necessarily. Growing up was interesting for me. I was born in the United States (Arlington, Virginia to be exact)  and I definitely pride myself on my nationality... and yes I will still do an internal eye roll whenever I get the question “So, where are you from?” as if my brown skin was somehow not “American”. But don’t get me wrong, I am just as proud about my “Americaness” as much as I am about my Mestizo Salvadoran heritage.

But the funny thing is that I was only given this opportunity to experience this pridefulness because of the hard work and dedication of my parents taking the risk of crossing the border and trying to create a better life for my sister and me. Can you imagine having one decision like this having such a dramatic effect on everything that defines you as a person? The accessibility to a public education, to feel safe while queer, to be anglophone, to have a more solid roof over your head, to even be able to have a small chance of getting a higher ed degree and to not go hungry.

It’s scary to think that if things went just a tad different, I would be a stranger to myself - which makes me have a “Man in the Mirror” moment.

These were some of the things my parents could only dream about when they were children. They were living in an environment where the social infrature was failing them and they had no opportunity whatsoever to experience any socioeconomic mobility where they were living. My parents didn’t meet until they got to the United States but this just shows the prevalence of these social problems in their country of origin. So my parents “added’’the undocumented immigrant identity to their roster of other identities despite them knowing the challenges they may have encountered once entering the United States.

So why did I just share this vulnerable piece about my family’s identity? Well first off, it is a reminder to myself that I should think constantly of where I come from and to not have shame in it! Society somehow socializes us to not share our vulnerability with one another because you don’t want to be perceived as the perpetual victim or even worse; having others blame you for your misfortunes, as if anyone has any real power over when, where and what family they’re born into. As a social scientist NOTHING is concrete, clear or absolute, we must look into all the details! Second, I think we need to become mindful of when we all say blanket statements about groups of people. I will admit, I am triggered when I hear people speaking badly of immigrants, because that is not only where I come from but because I know the amount of hard work my parents have put in every day of their lives to be able to get naturalized. We were fortunate that my sister and I were brought up comfortably enough that they were never concerned about the same issues their parents thought about when they were children.

Although my parents came to the States during the time of war in El Salvador, the country is still healing from the scars the war left on Salvadoran society. Unfortunately, both young and older generations are paying for it. I also know El Salvador is not the only country experiencing this which is why we have people from all over entering this country. Newer immigrants have continuously come into this country and will continue to do so. It is never really a “choice” for anyone to make the difficult decision to leave family without knowing when you will see them again. So to demonize them is a complete dismissal of their stories.

I acknowledge the privilege my parents “gifted” me upon my birth and whenever possible challenge those who have a negative view of the communities where I come from. So I Rise to get voices similar to my parents heard in a place where it's not too common, particularly in higher ed, where Hispanic immigrants make up a minority on a national level due to the various levels of stratification that affect the community. I would like for others to not only listen to my second-hand account of this story, but to sit down and do the uncomfortable research of hearing what stories other immigrants have to share with us. My hope is that through this, immigrants not only feel heard but validated for making the decision to come to this country.

Get ready for Critical Social Justice: Rise with our What You Need to Know series. Written by Marie Pessagno.

Three years ago, the idea to incorporate a walking tour of Baltimore during Critical Social Justice week came into fruition. Since its implementation, it has been an integral part of CSJ. You may be asking yourself: “Why it is important to include a walking tour of Baltimore? How could walking through Baltimore possibly have anything to do with Critical Social Justice?  These are both great questions to ask, and so to give a thorough answer, I met with Baltimore implant, history enthusiast, and walking tour guide… Dr. Kate Drabinski.

In talking to Dr. Kate, I was made aware of the fact that not all UMBC students are familiar with the city of Baltimore outside of Camden Yards or the Aquarium. Dr. Kate expressed to me that “In order to fully understand and comprehend the complexities that the city of Baltimore represents, it is important to physically experience it.” The walking tour is only one (of many) ways in which we as a community can bring UMBC to Baltimore.

Baltimore is a city that has been recently been the object of many news stories because of the politicized and highly publicized experiences of violence and police brutality.  This has most recently been seen during the unrest that occurred after the death of Freddie Gray.  There is an upcoming HBO special set to air November 20 that is centered on the years of economic disenfranchisement as seen through the eyes of activists, journalists, and community residents to better tell their stories in hopes to be understood.  

The systematic racism and segregationist efforts in Baltimore began in the early 1900’s and continue to occur today.  The walking tour helps to “enable students to broaden their view” of Baltimore outside of the classroom and to give a first-hand account of where and how history shaped the city.

Following the walking tour, Charm City Connection is hosting an event to link UMBC students to organizations that do work in the Baltimore community. Check out the flyer here! This is a great way to extend your knowledge of the city and the many opportunities and resources that are available to help serve our local community and to help better the city.