Ohio Wesleyan University (OWU) students held a sit-in March 1 at University Hall to protest against the treatment of minority groups on campus.
The sit-in predominantly occupied the main hall of the ground floor of University Hall, as well as Slocum Hall for a brief period. Organized by senior Daniella Black, the event was held to not only raise awareness for unheard voices, but to also start a conversation about the University’s treatment of its minority students.
The morning of the protest, the student organizers sent out a letter to the campus. In the letter, students listed their complaints and solutions to campus-wide issues regarding race. A survey was also attached, allowing others to say what they identify as an issue on campus.
“I hope that this protest starts conversations about diversity, inclusion and justice on campus and that they continue as the years go on,” senior Sarah Mattick said. “And result in changes for the better.”
Mattick said multiple recent incidents as causing the protest, including the vandalism of a diversity bulletin board in Hayes Hall and OWU Public Safety shutting down a House of Black Culture party an hour before it was registered to end.
“[Admission] tours were told to avoid entering University Hall, as some visitors might get the wrong idea involving the intentions of the protest,” said freshman Micaela Kreutzer, an admissions worker.
Senior Cindy Huynh said she loved that students and faculty passing through took the protest in stride and were open to having conversations with protestors about their perspectives.
“I think it’s important to be here to show that we see them … there are people who want to make things better,” associate politics and government professor Ashley Biser said. Biser attended the protest because she considered it an opportunity to learn and listen to students who do not feel that their voices are being heard.
Benji Acuna, a sophomore and protestor, said all of the aforementioned events for the protest, as well as a speak out by the OWU Student Inclusion and Advocacy Committee involving unreported incidents against minority groups. “The issues the students are bringing up are important and urgent and I think my office, because we primarily serve people of color, in particular, is a major stakeholder in supporting movements like this and trying to ensure that action happens as a result,” Charles Kellom, assistant dean of office of multicultural student affairs, said.
Rock Jones addressed the campus on multiple occasions, by sending an email and tweeting during the day. Jones also addressed the protesters multiple times during the day.
“I am grateful for the students’ work and for their desire to collaborate with me, the officers, their fellow students and the faculty and staff to explore where we are now, where we want to be, and how we get there together,” President Rock Jones said during the protest and a campus-wide email. “I am grateful to the members of the faculty and staff who stopped by to visit with the students today, listening to them as they shared their concerns and their suggestions.”
On March 7, Jones emailed the campus community, saying that he will meet with students again to discuss the issues raised at the sit-in. Jones also linked to a webpage for student recommendations on the school website.
I’ll be back home in about 50 hours, and the main thing I have to worry about before then is my paper due Friday at 1. After that, I’ll be free to relax and enjoy Thanksgiving with my family and think about everything I have to be grateful for.
But, it’s easy to forget that not everyone has those things.
I got a reminder of that today at noon in Hamilton-Williams Campus Center, when I saw senior Gus Wood taking a silent stand to commemorate Transgender Day of Remembrance, which honors those killed because of their gender identity.
The day began 15 years ago after the murder of trans woman Rita Hester, and is observed to remember those who have been killed each year and remind communities that trans lives are valuable.
I didn’t know that until after I saw Gus’ demonstration and did a Google search for more info. Had I not seen it, I probably wouldn’t have known today was the Day of Remembrance, or that such a day existed, and I’m sure many others on this campus wouldn’t either.
The most basic thing I’ll have to enjoy over break is my parents’ house, something I take for granted, and yet homelessness is one of the biggest problems facing LGBT youth in America.
While only three to five percent of the U.S. population self-identifies with the LGBT community, up to 40 percent of its homeless youth do, as they are often driven from their homes by families that do not accept who they are or who they love.
With the lack of shelter comes increased rates of depression, drug use and prostitution. Violence against members of the LGBT community is also a major issue, one exacerbated by the discrimination many members receive from police, who are supposed to protect them.
For someone who likes to identify as an activist for social justice, I’m often blind to transgender issues until they’re pointed out to me.
I’d never even considered the concept of preferred pronouns until we were asked to introduce ourselves by them, if we were willing, at the first meeting of my spring break mission team (one of its aims is transgender advocacy, so I have a lot to learn by then). I didn’t know about today’s remembrance, and I hadn’t even thought of the reasons behind the push for gender-neutral housing until a meeting on it during Pride Week.
I grew up in a small town, attending Catholic private schools that were steeped in cisgendered, white, middle-to-upper-class privilege. Sure, we talked about the civil rights movement (though mainly by watching dramatized adaptations like “Mississippi Burning” that focus on anachronistic white heroes) and the women’s movement received some attention, but issues of sexual orientation received little discussion, and gender identity even less.
After two and a half years at OWU, though, that’s not much of an excuse for continued unawareness. At the risk of sounding preachy, everyone can do more to learn about the struggles other groups face, and I definitely have a lot more to do.
Trayvon Martin pictured with his father, Tracy Martin, before his death on February 26, 2012.
By Spenser Hickey
News Editor
In light of George Zimmerman’s acquittal in the shooting death of Trayvon Martin, I am reminded of an episode of the TV series “The West Wing.”
A Latino LAPD officer shot and killed a black teenager holding what turned out to be a fake gun, and one of the characters — a Latino presidential candidate — speaks to a black church congregation about the incident; I’ve included some of his words below.
I find myself on days like this casting about for someone to blame. I blame the kid, he stole a car. I blame the parents. Why couldn’t they teach him better? I blame the cop, did he need to fire? I blame every one I can think of and I am filled with rage.
And then I try and find compassion. Compassion for the people I blame, compassion for the people I do not understand, compassion. It doesn’t always work so well. I remember as a young man listening on the radio to Dr. King in 1968. He asked of us compassion, and we responded, not necessarily because we felt it but because he convinced us that if we could find compassion, if we could express compassion, that if we could just pretend compassion, it would heal us so much more than vengeance could. And he was right: it did but not enough. What we’ve learned this week is that more compassion is required of us and an even greater effort is required of us.
… I ask you today to dig down deep with me and find that compassion in your hearts, because it will keep us on the road. And we will walk together, and work together. And slowly, slowly, too slowly, things will get better.
To be fair, the similar details between the fictional case and the real-life tragedy of Trayvon Martin are superficial at best: a Hispanic man shoots and kills a black youth he thought was a threat to his life. Details aside, though, the message of the speech — compassion and the need for unity — still resonate at this dark hour.
Much of the national debate over the case centered on blame — what happened was Zimmerman’s fault for being a profiling wannabe cop; or, alternatively, Martin was a violent and possibly high punk who instigated the fight.
While I’m personally more inclined to see more validity to the first assertion than the second one — and I admit I hadn’t watched all of the trial’s nonstop coverage — the case was more than just two competing assertions.
Why did Zimmerman think Martin was suspicious? As far as I know, he hasn’t spoken to this, and many have asserted he was assuming Trayvon was a criminal because of his appearance — a black teen in a hoodie. The details of the altercation that left Trayvon dead and Zimmerman apparently bloodied were fiercely contested, but even if Martin did start the fight, as Zimmerman claims, I can appreciate why he would have done so.
Thinking of this reminds me of a time, not too long ago, when I was walking late at night and saw an unknown man following me, as Trayvon did that tragic night. It was the last night of fall semester, and I was with several friends going up the JAYwalk when we saw someone trying to pry open the doors to the Hamilton-Williams Campus Center. He saw us, stopped, and began to follow us. We grouped together, called Public Safety. He vanished as soon as they showed up, and that was the end of it.
I had the safety of numbers, and as a white man did not have a deeply ingrained and often justified mistrust of police, as many black men do. And yet I still remember the fear and adrenaline I felt that night, and how I became conscious of the glass bottle I held, and thought of how I might have had to use it had I been alone, had PS been elsewhere. And so even if Trayvon were the instigator of the fight, I have an understanding of why he would have done so, not knowing who this man was — Zimmerman had been following him for awhile, first in a vehicle and then on foot.
I don’t know why George Zimmerman did what he did, and I likely never will; none of us know what was in his mind as he approached Martin. And because the case is so muddled, I’m not surprised there was an acquittal. After all, the only man who saw everything and is still alive was the one on trial.
Despite the acquittal, I still see in this case some progress in how racially-charged killings are handled.
Had this happened several decades ago, Zimmerman would almost certainly have gone untried, and Trayvon Martin would be just one of the scores of black men who never had a chance at receiving justice.
Look at the cases of Emmett Till, Jimmie Lee Jackson, Medgar Evers and the dozens of other martyrs of the Civil Rights Movement. All were killed, either by members of the Klu Kulx Klan or police (or both), who were acquitted despite clear evidence of their guilt and of their racist motives.
In the Zimmerman trial — where the motive and evidence is nowhere near as cut-and-dry, but very muddled and disputed — the trial represented a legitimate attempt at prosecution, even if it was deeply contentious.
And so, I think back to the speech from “The West Wing,” and how relevant the lines on blame are; they could easily be adapted to fit this real tragedy. We can blame George Zimmerman for following Trayvon Martin; we can blame Trayvon Martin for starting the fight – if he did indeed do that – and we can blame George Zimmerman for shooting to kill. But blame will not bring Trayvon Martin back, and it will further divide us and may lead to even more violence, which none of us want.
I also think of the lines on compassion, and how it is my own community who needs to show compassion now, especially those of us who think that Zimmerman should have been acquitted, that the claims of racism were overblown.
Regardless of what we think of the specific details of this one case, all of us must, show compassion and solidarity for the black community, as they mourn the tragic loss of another one of their sons, and feel justice was withheld. They still struggle for equality, and we should support them.
My heart goes out to the Martin family and the black community, especially as I remember that this trial is not the sole example of racial strife present in today’s America.
There are many other issues that need to be acknowledged, but the coverage of the trial has pushed them out of the national consciousness.
The Supreme Court just gutted the Voting Rights Act, and now southern states rush to pass voter identification laws once blocked for being too discriminatory.
Urban police departments are defending their stop and frisk tactics, and people of color are much more likely to be convicted and incarcerated longer than whites accused of similar offenses.
The North Carolina NAACP has had to return to civil disobedience and stand-ins in their Moral Mondays protests; just in the past few weeks, there were reports of KKK fliers being distributed in several states.
These are just some of the more prominent examples of racial discord that continues to plague our nation.
Sen. Kirsten Gillibrand (N.Y.), who has authored a bill to change the way the United States military tries sexual assault cases. Photo from gillibrand.senate.gov.
By Spenser Hickey
News Editor
Since World War II, as many as 1,000,000 men and women have gone into the service, eager to serve their country, only to be sexually assaulted by their comrades. Most never reported it and only a very few that did saw their assailant be convicted and thrown out of the service.
The number of military sexual assault survivors is greater than that of servicemen and women killed in action in every conflict the U.S. has taken part in—combined.
According to recent testimony by Marine Commandant James Amos, 85 to 90 percent of sexual assaults remain unreported in today’s military, despite twelve months of efforts by the top brass to effect change.
Now, after so many decades, Congress is planning legislation to fight the problem, either by putting control of sexual assault cases at the highest levels of military authority (as Ohio Rep. Mike Turner’s bill advocates) or removing it from the military’s control all together (what Sen. Kirsten Gillibrand of New York is calling for).
Under the current system, an officer in charge of the case can change the verdict on a whim, even without being present at the trial, because the alleged rapist is a husband and father, and it’s thought they don’t do that sort of thing. It’s happened.
Ultimately, that’s the problem with any system that tries to handle sexual assault cases in-house — it creates a recipe for potential injustice. Look at the Catholic Church or Penn State; look at the allegations of failures in reporting and violations of survivors’ rights at the University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill or Dartmouth College.
The Joint Chiefs of Staff have balked at Gillibrand’s call for sexual assault cases to be overseen by civilian prosecutors, saying it would undermine unit discipline and trust.
“The role of the commander should remain central,” said U.S. Army Gen. Martin Dempsey. “Our goal should be to hold commanders more accountable, not render them less able to help us correct the crisis. The commanders’ responsibility to preserve order and discipline is essential to effecting change.”
But it’s not essential, though, as several nations have proven.
In the militaries of England, Canada, Australia, Germany and Israel, for example, unit commanders do not have control over sexual assault cases, and their militaries aren’t falling apart.
When asked about the methods foreign militaries use to combat sexual assault, the Joint Chiefs of Staff said they’d “look into it,” so maybe that’s why they’re convinced commanders need to retain their control — they aren’t actually aware there are other systems that actually work better.
Military commanders have frequently claimed social change is a threat to unit discipline and order in response to government pressure, whether it was for racial integration, allowing women to serve in active duty or overturning “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.” And now it’s being marched out again, hopefully to the same lack of success as in the past.
While congressmen and women from both parties have been united in their pressure on military officials to carry out effective changes, one took the opportunity to put his foot in his mouth and make one more misguided statement about the causes of rape.
“The hormone level created by nature sets in place the possibility for these types of things to occur,” said Sen. Saxby Chambliss (Ga.), in a statement that bumbled him into the realm of Todd Akin and so many other politicians — from both parties — who have made callous or misguided remarks about sexual assault.
While his statement was slammed in the media, conservative news site RedState posted a strong defense of Chambliss’s remark, claiming “the liberal media” was deliberately ignoring the context of the statement, and that the context excuses it.
The whole six-and-a-half-minute speech Chambliss gave, the “context” RedStateoffers, has nothing to do with hormones, but with how the military has failed to create an environment that makes men too afraid to commit rape; instead they’ve created an environment that explicitly or implicitly permits it.
But then Chambliss made his claim, wholly unrelated to the speech he just made, that it’s the natural hormones that make this possible.
As RedState writer Erick Erickson puts it in his defending piece, it’s because 17-23 year old men are “horny” and a commander was “encouraging soldiers to hook up on base as much as possible” — and when these base impulses are added that to a broken system of reporting and prosecution, rapes are going to happen.
(Side note: if Erickson’s name is familiar, it’s because he, along with Lou Dobbs, recently lost a heated on-air debate on gender roles and sexism with Fox News anchor Megyn Kelly — and I doubt he’s learned much from it.)
Here’s the thing though, Sen. Chambliss and Mr. Erickson — hormones, as you put it, are “natural.” That means we all have them — so if all the men in the military have these hormones and many are in these systems where they can get away with rape, why don’t they all do it? And why are some of the alleged rapists outside that 17 to 23 age range?
Chambliss’s and Erickson’s statements presume that if a young man is in a room with a woman he’s physically attracted to, and there’s little chance of punishment involved, he’ll have sex with her whether she wants to or not, because the hormones take over.
It’s a disgusting premise for us young men, that we all have some repressed rapist on our shoulders; and it’s one that completely ignores the gender dynamics of rape survivors in the military (more men have been raped than women, according to DoD estimates) and the more common reasons most rapes occur in the military.
As with any crime, the motives behind these rapes differ from case to case, but “natural hormones” are one of the least common factors. Military sexual assault, like prison rape — another systemic failure of reporting and justice — is primarily a crime of predation and power rather than passion, targeting the people offenders see as weaker and subjecting them to what they consider to be the worst humiliation.
It’s not about sexual desire, but establishing and reinforcing power and control, and sadly the military already has a power-based hierarchal system that is being exploited by sexual predators who target their subordinates in the ranks.
In addition, rape — often against women and children — has been one of the oldest weapons militaries use against their enemy’s populations to further subjugate them and weaken their morale. It’s seen in ongoing regional wars around the world; in the invasions of the Germans, Soviets and Japanese in World War II; and in hundreds of other conflicts going back to before ancient Rome and Greece. War and sexual violence have been entwined since the first groups of humanity took up arms against their neighbors.
In the case of our current military, I see some of these assaults as a violent physical expression of a broader attitude infecting the services — that women are weak and good only for sexual subjugation. It’s part of a last-ditch effort to keep the military exclusive to men, and sexual assaults are an unseen salvo in this mostly undeclared war.
When it’s not directly about power, it’s because men think they have a right to use women or men for their own sexual gratification, regardless of their wishes. While Chambliss’s solution — that the military stop rape by making men fear the consequences too much do it — might work sometimes, it’s still not the right solution.
Instead, the military, and our entire society, need to teach men to treat people with respect and dignity, and to value the consent of their partner. That’s how we take back the military and end the invisible war.
But enough of Chambliss, Erickson and their wildly off-kilter perspectives on the causes of rape, which thankfully have been slammed by politicians on the left and right — let’s look at something else in this debate, something favorable a politician said.
“I cannot overstate my disgust and disappointment over continued reports of sexual misconduct in our military,” said Arizona Senator John McCain, a Navy veteran. “We’ve been talking about this issue for years and talk is insufficient.”
He recently said that he could no longer recommend to women in his constituency that they join the military, due to the rampant sexual assaults.
It’s a bold move for a politician to tell citizens not to join the military, and I applaud McCain for doing so. But he missed one particular statistic about rape in the military: over half of survivors are men, not women.
It’s not that surprising, when you consider that there are six times more men than women in the military; and men are less likely to report assaults than women, due to the aggressive hypermasculinity of military culture, which portrays being assaulted as the ultimate weakness in an environment where power is paramount. Like I said, this is about power, not passion.
“The biggest reasons men don’t come forward (with sex assault reports) are the fear of retaliation (from fellow troops), the fear of being viewed in a weaker light and the fact there are very few, if any, services for male survivors,” said Brian Lewis, a Navy veteran and rape survivor, in an NBC News interview.
In light of this, I’d say everyone, regardless of gender, should think about the risks before enlisting in the military. I know I won’t enlist as long as the problem continues. Not just because of the danger, but because I refuse to be part of an institution where rape is an occupation hazard.
That’s not hyperbole, not a slick phrase I made up — it’s an actual judge’s words, based the number and frequency of assaults, from a 2011 lawsuit against Donald Rumsfeld and Robert Gates.
“If they actually had systems of accountability that prosecuted and imprisoned perpetrators, you would get rid of the rapes right away,” said attorney Susan Burke, who represented the plaintiffs — 28 veterans who were raped during their military service — in the 2011 lawsuit.
I don’t know that I’d go so far as to say a new system would end rapes entirely – it should be based off the civilian criminal justice system, and sexual violence is still a serious issue outside of the military. But it would certainly be better.
The current system has failed most veterans who turned to it at every step of the way.
It’s failed at preventing assaults; it’s failed at offering comfortable reporting of them; it’s failed at prosecuting assault cases; it’s failed at punishing those convicted in accordance with their crime; and it’s failed at treating survivors’ mental and physical scars as a result of their military sexual trauma.
The civilian criminal system is not without its flaws — look at the absurdly lenient sentences of the Steubenville rapists, or the grotesque case of the Central Park Five (teenagers of color wrongly convicted in the 1989 rape of a white woman).
But it’s still an improvement over the current military system, and it’s long past time for the military brass to swallow their pride and adopt a new system – or for the government to compel them to do so through legislative mandate.
Each day last year, an average of 38 men and 33 women in our armed forces were sexually assaulted by those they served with.
They’d each made the noblest choice an American can make — stepping up to risk their lives in our defense.
I’m hard-pressed to think how their commanders, as well as our collective response to the problem, could have let them down more.
For an in-depth view into this crisis, watch “The Invisible War,” available on Netflix Instant.
