“I was sexually assaulted by a Loyola campus police officer after he found me walking back drunk to my dorm on a Thursday night … when I tried to report it to someone the next day I found out that this same officer had told them I had come onto him, insinuated that I probably had a reputation, and that I was the one being highly inappropriate. They dismissed my case immediately.”
These are the words from an anonymous post on @thedobettercampaign on Instagram. When I saw this post being spread around during the first few weeks of school, I looked at the page and immediately noticed how many posts there were from this university alone. Out of the 167 anonymous stories posted on the account, 70 are from Loyola.
Seeing the amount of college campuses around the country that repeatedly brush allegations under the rug, I had high hopes coming to an institution that seemingly took sexual violence seriously. The presentation made during Fall Welcome Weekend secured a bit of faith in me that the administration really does care about victims and does everything in their power to help them. After reading through all 70 of these stories, I realized I was wrong.
It’s quite ironic that an administration that preaches consent and safety to the degree that it does would blame victims, give no form of punishment to abusers, and does not look into cases due to lack of evidence. At a school with a relatively small student body and a department that claims to work with issues like this, victims who have the bravery to tell someone about what happened should get a proper investigation if they so choose— and, at the very least, be heard and believed when they tell their story.
While every story on this page was disgusting and difficult to read, the allegation I quoted was especially horrific. While we do not know when this happened, or what happened to the police officer, we do know that the case was not followed up on. We also know that in the month since this was posted, the administration has stayed silent about this incident, and the ones posted before and after it. This silence is both upsetting and telling, considering the protest that occurred in early October on the quad was not publicly acknowledged by the university.
Women all over the world are constantly fearing the worst. We have to take extra measures to protect ourselves when we want to go on a walk or to the grocery store. There are new stories every day about women getting kidnapped, raped, or killed that are hardly ever paid attention to because, terrifyingly, it’s the norm. We should not have to be concerned about that here. We all know of the atrocities that happen in the world outside of this campus, but we should be allowed to have this be our safe haven.
There are multiple stories on this Instagram account regarding abusers who were given no punishment because they are an athlete and, most likely, an asset to the team. It is absolutely infuriating to attend a school that seemingly cares more about their sports teams doing well than the lifelong trauma of sexual assault victims. Abusers are hardly ever penalized unless there is concrete evidence, which is nearly impossible to obtain. Because of this lack of punishment, the behavior is repeated because they know they can— and will— get away with it. They go on living their lives while the victim is constantly reminded of what happened every time they see their abuser’s face around campus.
If the Loyola administration wants to maintain the image that they truly care about victims, they should make a public statement regarding the immense number of stories that have been posted in the past year, and they should start holding people accountable if someone has shared a story about sexual violence. Even if there is not “sufficient evidence,” if someone comes forward and shares what happened to them, they have a right to be believed and helped in every way possible.
I am disappointed to be going to a school that cares more about grades or athletics than the well-being of its students, and I am disappointed to be going to a school whose administration creates a false image that they care about survivors. I want to see a real change made soon, and I know my peers do, too.
Featured Image courtesy of Journalist’s Resource