Category: Opinion

By Spenser Hickey
Assistant Copy Editor

Reading the story on sexual assault reporting on pages 4 and 5 and the above editorial about two young rape victims, I am reminded again of the double atrocities involved with rape—the act itself and the way we as a society treat those who have survived it after they come forward.

This was never clearer than during and after the Steubenville rape trial, as the teenage survivor—named by several media channels—had to suffer again under an onslaught of threats, or insults, of those who said “she was asking for it.”

Some said because she’d gone to the party and gotten as drunk as she did, she hadn’t really been raped.
That’s one of stupidest arguments I’ve ever heard. It’s a statement so idiotically backward it’s almost comedic, if it weren’t so serious.

By legal definition, the fact that she was so intoxicated means that any sexual act would automatically be rape, because she could not consent. It’s the law.

And yet there were still many who said, on various social media sites, that she was “asking for it.”
It makes me sick just to write that. It’s victim-blaming at its darkest and most vile. It’s also something that’s rarely, if at all, applied to any other crime out there.

Say a man walked out of a bar after having a few too many beers and was robbed at knife point.
Would any one, aside from maybe the thief’s lawyer, try to make the serious argument that it wasn’t really theft because the man was drunk, or maybe he just gave the man his wallet and then regretted doing so and called it a theft afterwards?

Of course not.

And yet those are common arguments held against rape survivors who speak out in court—well, some rape survivors, that is.

Look back at the Jerry Sandusky trial—no one in the media was talking about the negative impact his sentence would have on his life as if it were a tragedy, as they did frequently during the Steubenville trial.

There was no public movement accusing those survivors of lying, or of having brought their assault upon themselves.

Often, many who do not overtly blame survivors for their assaults offer suggestions on how not to be raped.

“Women should avoid dressing like sluts,” one Toronto police officer said in 2011 when asked what could be done to prevent rapes.

The statement led to the Canadian and US SlutWalk movement, held here at OWU the past two years. The movement, often a march, attempts to reclaim the derogatory term while demonstrating that rape is caused by perpetrators, not what survivors were wearing at the time.

It’s a common view that the burden to prevent rape lies with the survivors, not those truly responsible for such acts.

This view is at the heart of the documentary “The Invisible War,” shown recently at Ohio Wesleyan.
The U.S. military, working to stem a sexual assault epidemic within their ranks, focused on PSAs urging women not to walk alone at night and other risk reduction tips.

While these may help to prevent rapes, they do little to address the root cause of the problem, instead perpetuating it by telling women they need to avoid being raped rather than telling men not to rape.
While rape can—and does—happen between all genders and sexual orientations, Department of Justice statistics say 99 percent of reported rapists are male.

It is with us men that the responsibility for preventing rape lies, either by not carrying out such atrocious crimes ourselves or by taking action as bystanders to stop them before they occur.

While ending them for survivors’ sake should be enough of a reason to take on societal ills of patriarchy and rape culture, we men are also harmed by such negative concepts, as they portray us as sex- and control-crazed monsters, void of emotion and ready to rape at any moment.

So what can OWU students—male or female—do to address these problems?

As a start, attend programming: house projects and discussion-based events (such as the recent “It Is My Business” workshop); film showings (like “The Invisible War”) or student performances of “The Vagina Monologues.”

Building from that, go to a club meeting, like Sisters United, or be active as a supporter at Take Back the Night or SlutWalk. It’s an emotional experience but a worthy one, and a step to a better future.

By Elizabeth Childers
Managing Editor

Late last year, when the shocking and unbelievable events in Steubenville, Ohio, came to light, I was conflicted, as I assume many people probably were. What those football players did was wrong, but the victim should have been responsible for herself. Both of these clauses are correct. However, the fact that the victim had poor judgment was no excuse for what happened to her. But, I digress.

After 2013 dawned and we all survived the “Mayan Apocalypse,” two young men were arrested for the sexual assault of this young woman. Though they were minors—ages 16 and 17—I had assumed, due to the type of crime they committed, they would be tried as adults. Imagine my surprise when the judge who regretfully sentenced them sat on the bench in juvenile court—as if their crime was befitting a juvenile.

Why am I reminding you of this uncomfortable moment in recent history? Because this isn’t the only one. When the Boston bombing occurred, the media turned a relatively blind eye to many happenings in other corners of the globe. A fertilizer plant exploded in Texas and killed 14 people, for example. And an earthquake in China left 207 dead. There’s also the story of the arrest of three young men who raped a fellow student (unconscious) at a party, drew graffiti on her body and disseminated the photos afterwards. The young Californian, feeling she had no way out, hanged herself. This assault occurred on Labor Day weekend of last year.

There are more than one or two similarities between this young woman’s story and the girl from Steubenville’s. They’d been at a party with “friends,” they had been drinking, their rape was documented by photos and the multiple assailants were underage. The biggest difference is fairly significant. The California girl, Audrie Potts, has a family who’s fighting for her.

That’s not to say the Steubenville girl’s family didn’t. I’m sure they were supportive of their daughter and wanted justice as well. Whether or not they got the justice they deserved, I guess it’s up to them to answer that question. The Potts family, however, is demanding action—that the boys be tried as adults and a certain California law be changed by what Potts’ mother hopes to call “Audrie’s Law.”

There is a bigger picture here, as always. The media continues to cover stories like this, but they seem to avoid two questions. The first: does it really have to come down to someone killing themselves before any action takes place? Steubenville coverage made the young men who committed the crime look like the victims. Even in Potts’s case, the media is showing a large amount of skepticism as to why the family is being so vocal now, months after the fact. These are crimes that should have no expiration date, and skepticism makes it much more difficult for those who have been assaulted on the most personal level to be taken seriously. It shouldn’t take a noose to spur a new way of thinking.

The second question: what the hell are we teaching our kids? These criminals and these victims are young. Too young. In a world where everything is so interconnected, with a media so focused on being edgier, being sexier, we’ve forgotten why there are rating systems on movies, video games and television programs. I’m not blaming the media for how quickly our children are “growing up.” I’m blaming, to some extent, their parents. It shouldn’t occur to a 16-year-old boy, sober or drunk, to rape someone. It shouldn’t be permissible for a 16-year-old girl to get wasted. Truth be told, this behavior shouldn’t be condoned for anyone at any age, but people aren’t perfect. Children don’t make smart decisions. They’re not supposed to. Instead, they’re supposed to be accountable to someone, presumably parental units, until they’re old enough to think things through. And parents should be accountable to their offspring. Teenagers shouldn’t be making adult decisions—and mistakes—in a life that’s barely started.

I don’t want to live in a PG world. In fact, I like it R-rated. But there are issues, like treating rape as a serious crime, its victims as real victims, and its perpetrators like the criminals they are, that need to be resolved. I can’t be the only person out there who still thinks if a teenager wants to act like an adult, they best be ready to deal with adult consequences.

This is my last editorial as an editor for The Transcript. Instead of saying fond farewells and making snide comments about how I will not be missing the food, I am giving my last editorial to these girls, and to anyone who has been a victim of a violent crime, especially at such an age where life should be good.

In February, I wrote about why The Transcript exists and what we stand for as Ohio Wesleyan’s journalistic entity. While we do have financial ties to the university that keep us in print, we are an independent news organization, not a public relations service or promotional machine. This has been true since we printed our first issue in 1867, and it will never change.

Soon, though, a few things will. At the end of the semester, two of our most valuable editors—sports editor Heather Kuch, and managing editor, online editor and business manager Elizabeth Childers—will graduate. They will leave big shoes to fill, and the staff will certainly miss them. But they’ve helped us set The Transcript on a new path.

Over the past twelve weeks, the Transcript staff have done our best to pursue the truth and report it to the OWU and Delaware communities. We’ve published formerly untold stories that deserve to be heard, in-depth investigations of important issues, commentary on relevant events and topics that deserve editorial attention, and coverage of the incredibly active campus we call home.

This, first and foremost, is what you can expect from The Transcript. In the next semester and those following our pages will continue to be filled with the information Ohio Wesleyan deserves to know.
You can also expect to have more opportunities to give us feedback about what we do. Next semester we will have at least two open forums with the entire editorial staff to put faces to the bylines, answer questions and receive comments from the campus community about how The Transcript can serve it better.
Additionally, our online coverage will extend beyond the stories in the paper every Thursday. In the capable hands of incoming online editor Sophie Crispin, The Transcript’s website will become more interactive and feature content exclusive to the internet. You can also expect our social media presence to be bigger—you won’t be able to keep us out of your news feeds.

We also expect a less obvious improvement with the help of incoming business manager Anji Herman—more advertising.

It’s arguable that no one likes ads. They take up space and get in the way of the content that is the heart of our paper. But they have an indirect benefit. Advertising is The Transcript’s only revenue source besides the money the administration allocates to the journalism department, and that revenue is what we rely on to make our coverage as thorough and engaging as possible. Put simply, more money means more tools for us to produce content that further illuminates the stories we print.

You can also expect The Transcript to have a new look in the fall. The inside pages will become more consistent with the front-page flag with which we’ve branded ourselves since 2009 to create a more recognizable, attractive publication.

As independent as The Transcript is, we won’t be able to achieve these goals without you.

We exist for the benefit of Ohio Wesleyan students, faculty and staff, as well as residents of Delaware. We want to know when we’re not serving you as well as we could be. It’s our responsibility to hold ourselves accountable and live up to our journalistic standards in the first place. But we want to be called out and corrected when we need to be. We will do everything in our power not to create such situations, but if we slip up—as humans are wont to do—we want to know.

We’re also always in need of people to join us in these ventures. If you have any interest or experience in journalism, photography, web design, page design, video or proofreading, come to our first meeting in the second week of the fall semester, and consider registering for JOUR 378. We welcome anyone and everyone, and we’re always incredibly grateful for the help.

Journalism at Ohio Wesleyan has a bright future, and we see The Transcript as being an integral part of it. Thank you for your continued support and criticism. We hope you’ll join us for what’s ahead.

Noah Manskar
Editor-in-Chief

By Spenser Hickey
Assistant Copy Editor

I first heard of the Boston Marathon bombing shortly after 4 p.m. on Monday as I scrolled through my Facebook feed after class.

A few minutes later, I learned that my cousin and his girlfriend, who both ran in the marathon, had left the finish line 30 minutes before the bombs went off and were safe and sound.

That immediate concern relieved, I then turned on CNN and listened as they tried to make sense of what had happened.

As mentioned in the above editorial, this was the first terrorist attack to claim American lives on U.S. soil since 9/11.

As with 9/11, in the immediate aftermath of the attacks, there were unconfirmed reports of more attacks—that additional bombs were found on Boylston Street, and that the JFK Library, also in Boston, had been bombed as well.

I wondered whether this was the first wave, if more attacks would soon follow.

As these thoughts raced through my mind, I began to write the story that now appears on pages one and two.
It was probably 4:45 at this point, and the governor of Massachusetts and the Boston police commissioner were giving a press conference.

Initially, I expected my story would be a short informative one, with details about the attacks provided by Boston police and some quotes from the press conferences.

I wrote a few lines down, then ate dinner, constantly watching the news, wondering if they would be reporting additional attacks.

Initially there were reports that two were dead and 28 injured, though the number would soon increase—at 5:10 CNN reported 49 were injured; at 5:14 they cited the Boston Globe and raised the count to 100.

Shortly before 7 p.m., I emailed my editor-in-chief, my news editor and my copy editor about the story I’d started. At this point I doubted it would run due to a lack of a link to the OWU community. I was mainly writing to help understand what had happened.

A few minutes later, I heard back that I should talk to OWU students from the Boston area.

It was at this point, about 7:05, that it hit me—I was reporting on a genuine terrorist attack. It was a deeply troubling thing to realize.

As a journalist, I dream of being able to report on real news and serious issues, but death and destruction are not things we relish writing about.

America had been attacked again—although whether it was from the outside or the inside is still unclear.
While the body count was much, much lower than 9/11, the images of people running in fear, of smoke billowing down city streets and emergency responders rushing to the scene were still terrifying to watch.
I focused my mind back on the task at hand, knowing that the story I was working on would be published, that this had to be done.

Before I heard of the bombings, my plan for the evening was to work on an upcoming paper; instead I found myself rushing headlong into the story.

I wrote it out of a desire to understand what was going on, how this had happened and to document the tragedy as it unfolded.

Shortly after 7, before I emailed several potential sources, I took a walk down to Blue Limestone. It’s a good place to go to when I’m stressed, and no story I’ve written has had more pressure than this one—not that the many of the others were stress-free either.

On the way there, I wrote out a draft of the emails I sent, mindful that those receiving them had just had a terrorist bombing in the area where their families live.

Then I just walked around for awhile, trying not to think about the two dead and many more injured or whether this would happen again in the coming days.

Eventually, after almost an hour, I walked back to OWU and got to work.

To my surprise, I quickly heard back from two Boston-area students who did respond to the questions I sent, and who both had friends at the Marathon and family in the area. Fortunately, all of them survived the attack unscathed, at least physically.

However, shortly before 9 p.m., the Boston police commissioner announced that there had been a third fatality caused by the blast.

Early Tuesday morning, we were notified that an OWU alum knew the family of one of those killed in the attack.

As a journalist, it’s my job to follow the news closely and report on major events, and I usually enjoy it very much. This week, though, it’s not been a pleasant job to have.

Amidst the reports of carnage, of maiming, of death, though, there was hope—stories of runners risking everything to go back into the bomb zone and help, or sprinting on to Mass General, two miles away, to give blood.

It is hearing stories like these that makes me proud to be American, and it is reporting on them that makes me proud to be a journalist.

By Taylor Smith
Copy Editor

As an athlete, coach and all-around sport enthusiast, I see sports as an escape from the drama and stress of everyday life. Athletes, players, coaches, family, friends and fans all come together to participate and enjoy all the positive aspects of sports as an experience that can be shared by everyone and naturally brings people together.

But local, national and international tragedies also bring people together to mourn those lost and affected.

The Boston Marathon is one of the world’s most iconic sporting events; Although no world champions are named, it can be considered the World Series of marathon running, if it isn’t already. Held every Patriot’s Day, the third Monday in April, for the past 117 years, it has become a timely tradition full of athleticism, challenges, sportsmanship and fun that everyone in Boston, the running community and the sporting world can recognize as true competition.

This year’s Marathon Monday, a lot of what we have learned to love, cherish and celebrate about the event was attacked when two bombs went off, moments apart, near the finish line four hours and nine minutes into the race. The FBI is calling the attack an “act of terrorism.”

The attack killed three people, including an 8-year-old boy, and injured at least another 176. The three killed and most of those injured were spectators cheering and taking photos as runners finished the race on Boylston Street in downtown Boston.

The attacks on Monday mark the first deadly attacks of their kind on U.S. soil since the terrorist attacks that shocked the world on September 11, 2001.

I feel many do not know how to react when these things happen. Living in the United States, we’re not faced with these issues on a day-to–day basis. The same day, a bombing in Baghdad killed 31 people and injured over 200 others; but it received little coverage by the U.S. media, and by the end of the day the Iraq bombing story wasn’t even on the front page of the BBC website.

When news of the Boston attack first hit me, I didn’t think much of it—another possible terrorist attack. Whatever, those happen almost everyday around the world—but not here in the U.S.

I was close to the 9/11 attacks. I grew up within an hour’s drive of Washington, D.C., in Maryland; I was nine years old and in Mrs. Grim’s (yes, that was her real name) fourth grade class at Arnold Elementary when the attacks occurred. There were a lot of kids in my class and my neighborhood whose parents worked in Washington, as did mine. My dad was not directly affected by the attacks, but several of my classmates’ parents worked in the Pentagon.

Their careers, their work—their lives—were forever changed; but then again, so was everyone else’s, in one way or another. Fortunately, no one I knew directly, or through their son or daughter, lost their life that day. Then again, I didn’t know nearly as many people as I do today and, quite frankly, I was too young to comprehend the situation. All of my friends at local Boston colleges are okay, and from what I am aware of I do not know anyone affected by this tragedy.

So even though I have been through this situation before, I feel as though this is the first time I am experiencing an attack like this, even if it is not actually the first.

This year’s Boston Marathon brought together over 27,000 runners and thousands more volunteering, supporting or cheering for the event and athletes. It hit close to home and has re-instilled the fear in Americans that was implanted into our society 11 years ago.

Some people are already saying stuff along the lines of “Oh, only three people died and 100-plus injured. It’s nothing like 9/11.”

But it is. The attack should and will be treated as a tragedy and never forgotten as another “terrorist attack” against the United States.

The Boston Marathon, and large international sporting events like it, is never going to be the same again.

Countries, cities, sports organizations and Olympic committees have always prepared for attacks like these since the 1972 Munich Olympic attacks by the Black September Palestinian terrorist group.

But even with money, people and all available and relevant resources, it is next to impossible to prevent attacks like these from happening. London officials have already upped security in anticipation of Sunday’s London Marathon to try and prevent any copycats.

Almost everyone immediately developed quick reactions and quick opinions to the attack; I know my first immediate thought was, “I bet this was done by an amateur like the Oklahoma City bombing in 1995.”
But as expected, there were many who began to blame Muslims and the entire Islamic religion, and they didn’t use kind words to do so.

My Facebook and Twitter feed were flooded with statuses and tweets showing sentimental support for those affected and wising their friends and loved ones in Boston the best, which gave me some hope.
I did not see any of my friends post immediate hate against a certain nationality or religious group. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.

One news reporter, Fox News contributor Erik Rush, tweeted shortly after the bombings, “Everybody do the National Security Ankle Grab! Let’s bring in more Saudis without screening them! C’mon! #bostonmarathon.”
After somebody responded to that tweet asking Rush if he was already blaming Muslims, Rush responded, “Yes, they’re evil. Let’s kill them all.”

Some are pointing out the obvious when blaming “foreign terrorism”—that the attacks occurred on Patriot’s Day, in a city best known for its history of revolutionaries and original thoughts of American freedom.
But that doesn’t mean it was foreign terrorism. We don’t have the straight facts and evidence to even begin determining who is responsible.

And even if it turns out the attack was the result of “radical Muslims,” that doesn’t mean the entire Islam religion and its more than two billion followers are to blame.

The Westboro Baptist Church announced on their Twitter feed, hours after the attack, “BREAKING: Westboro Baptist Church to picket funerals of those dead by Boston Bombs! GOD SENT THE BOMBS IN FURY OVER F** MARRIAGE! #Praise God.”

We all know the WBC is a little eccentric, has a cult following, misguides its members and can be considered a radical Christian group.

Normally we do not associate the WBC with the Christian religion. Then why do we associate all Muslim terror groups with the Islam religion?

Seeing attacks like the Boston Marathon bombing can easily make one lose a little faith in humanity.
One can sometimes only wonder, “Why would somebody do this? Over religion? Over hate against America? Because God wanted this to happen?”

These are the absolute worst reasons for us to attack one another. Seeing many trying to blame an entire religion, person or group really makes me question the way the world thinks and lose faith in humanity.
I know not everything will be the same again after the Boston Marathon bombing, just like nothing was the same after 9/11, but what does give me reassurance and faith in humanity is how the people at the scene reacted.

In the videos shown when the bombings occurred, you hear and see hundreds of people run not away from the attack site, but towards it, to lend a helping hand.

Boston’s and other nearby cities’ fire and police departments and emergency medical services lined up to help as soon as they could, clearing the area and transporting injured victims to the city’s hospitals.
There were even accounts of runners who had already finished but continued running to the hospitals to donate blood for the injured.

Support and help for Boston is pouring in from around the world. This attack didn’t just hit the U.S.; it hit individuals, families and communities from around the world.

The attacker or attackers who planned this event aimed to disrupt and tear apart society and cause harm to America.

What this year’s Boston Marathon will do is bring participants, volunteers, supporters and runners alike closer together than ever before.

Those who lost their lives and those who were injured will never be forgotten, and those that rushed toward the scene in the face of panic and disarray should be looked to as heroes and an example of the right thing to do.