I came across this strong rebuttal on a rather uncharitable take on the rape culture prevalent in US colleges. Also, recently, MIT released the results of an internal survey which recorded disturbingly high prevalence (one in six) of sexual assault amidst undergraduate women. I think it is very important to have such frank conversations for a reliable diagnosis of this problem, but any solution/mitigation necessarily requires addressing the causes/catalysts of such culture with equal openness and honesty.
Since I completed my undergraduate and master's education in India, I do not know enough to comment on the veracity of statistics quoted in various reports, but my general impression based on third-hand information is that it is indeed a serious threat to a free and safe environment any educational institute requires to thrive. It also reminded me of an incident in my graduate school which I want to share here.
It was during the semi-final year of my Ph.D. when the research was finally in a place that I could find time to indulge in minor time extravagances such as going for Saturday night Yale repertory theatre screening of classic plays. I was particularly looking forward to it this time -- "Winter's Tale" a famous play by Shakespeare with two of my girl-friends and fellow scientists. And it turned out to be a really pleasant evening when I sat enraptured by ace performances, with Lupita Nyong'o playing the beautiful Perdita to perfection (her precocious talent evident in her Yale Drama school days, is common knowledge after her Oscar for 12 years a slave.) .
It was only when the play ended, did I realize that it was past 9:30 p.m. and my flimsy jacket would be fighting a losing battle against the chill on the walk back home. It was a saturday night and the place had come alive with nearby Toad's place, a new haven bar with a cult following, featuring a local but apparently popular country music band. There were youngsters everywhere, laughing merry-making and pulling each other for another drink. Their infectious enthusiasm made me momentarily forget the sting of the cold wind that was blowing that night.
I had barely walked two blocks, during which the crowd on the road had considerably thinned, when I heard an "excuse me" in an abnormally high-pitched voice. As I looked back, I saw a really young girl walking towards me in an unusually acrobatic style. As she approached me, the reason became clear -- she strongly smelled of alcohol and looking at her I became acutely aware of my overdressed self. She spoke again in a slur, which after she repeated 3-4 times on my request, translated into -- she needed a cab and wasn't aware where to get it from. She had a petite stature which barely reached my shoulder even with her towering heels. I asked her to walk with me, and eventually had to hold her from falling, while she tic-tac-toed on the road. She continued to ramble on as we walked huddled together, and putting together bits and pieces from her incoherent speech, I came to know that she is studying in Quinnipiac University from a neighboring town, and had come down with her boyfriend and his friends for the 'concert' at Toad's place. She had a spat with her boyfriend which led him to apparently behave (equally if I may add!) silly and dump her by the road. Given her state, I wasn't sure if putting her in a cab was a good idea as she did not have a place to stay in the town. So I decided to walk her to the nearest Yale police beat and arrange Yale escort for her (It is a great service reserved for Yale students and affiliates where they can request Yale transportation practically any time of the day anywhere within the city limits).
Just seeing the blue uniform of Yale police officer inside the small booth bathed with the yellow light warmed my heart. I heaved an audible sigh of relief, catalyzed by my panting, as by now she had completely sagged in my arms, and I was almost dragging her while her incoherent blabberings continued. I quickly told the officer of the situation; he encouraged me to wait on the pavement outside his cubicle for the Yale escort while he would try to expedite its arrival, and went back in his booth making calls. I had already requested for Yale shuttle service and informed them of my location -- they had given me an unusually long wait time given it was Saturday night and many Yale vans were doing double duty dispatching inebriated Yalies to their safe and warm abodes. As we waited for the shuttle, I asked if her boyfriend's number is stored in her phone and tried calling him to no avail. Then she suddenly exclaimed, staring at my hands, "you are so dark, you are not from here, are you?". I replied that she was right and gave her a brief speech on India, by the end of which her eyelids had started drooping. I stopped talking wondering if it was the alcohol or our conversation (I was scared to let her sleep, for both her and my well being!). Suddenly a car turned around the corner, and after coming to a brief halt raced past us. The screech of the tires made her jerk and she slid out of my arms on the pavement, screaming "it was my boyfriend, and the jerk did not stop for me". (My personal guess is that seeing her next to Yale police booth with a stranger might have scared him away!). As I tried to haul her back to her feet, she continued to talk oblivious of my attempts to pick her up. In the mean time, the Yale officer had come outside and he helped me get her back on her feet while we both saw a Yale shuttle approaching us. I showed my Yale ID to the driver and explained him that though the intended traveler is not a Yale affiliate, she needs to be taken some where safe to spend the night. He nodded and a huge weight lifted off me -- literally and metaphorically! As she stumbled towards the escort car, she looked back and shouted " you have been such a good samaritan", produced some money from the folds of her dress and tossed it towards me before collapsing on the car seat. Yale officer and I collected the bills strewn on the pavement and handed them to the driver, who then drove out into dark depths of the night.
As I resumed my walk towards my home, I wondered where would she be (I had forgotten to ask her name!), what could have happened to her, how would her parents react if they ever come to know of this (will they?), what about that boyfriend who had dumped her in such a vulnerable state, and most importantly why do young women open themselves to situations where they are entirely at the mercy of some passerby and his/her intentions. Yes, it is an institution's responsibility to care for the well being of its students, but it cannot do this successfully without students being an active collaborator in this exercise. I am all for freedom to dress and do as we please, but where/how do we draw the line between harmless fun and risk? These questions come in sharper focus with the recent conversations about rape culture in US colleges, but to me their relevance resonates far outside US geographical borders.
Since I completed my undergraduate and master's education in India, I do not know enough to comment on the veracity of statistics quoted in various reports, but my general impression based on third-hand information is that it is indeed a serious threat to a free and safe environment any educational institute requires to thrive. It also reminded me of an incident in my graduate school which I want to share here.
It was during the semi-final year of my Ph.D. when the research was finally in a place that I could find time to indulge in minor time extravagances such as going for Saturday night Yale repertory theatre screening of classic plays. I was particularly looking forward to it this time -- "Winter's Tale" a famous play by Shakespeare with two of my girl-friends and fellow scientists. And it turned out to be a really pleasant evening when I sat enraptured by ace performances, with Lupita Nyong'o playing the beautiful Perdita to perfection (her precocious talent evident in her Yale Drama school days, is common knowledge after her Oscar for 12 years a slave.) .
It was only when the play ended, did I realize that it was past 9:30 p.m. and my flimsy jacket would be fighting a losing battle against the chill on the walk back home. It was a saturday night and the place had come alive with nearby Toad's place, a new haven bar with a cult following, featuring a local but apparently popular country music band. There were youngsters everywhere, laughing merry-making and pulling each other for another drink. Their infectious enthusiasm made me momentarily forget the sting of the cold wind that was blowing that night.
I had barely walked two blocks, during which the crowd on the road had considerably thinned, when I heard an "excuse me" in an abnormally high-pitched voice. As I looked back, I saw a really young girl walking towards me in an unusually acrobatic style. As she approached me, the reason became clear -- she strongly smelled of alcohol and looking at her I became acutely aware of my overdressed self. She spoke again in a slur, which after she repeated 3-4 times on my request, translated into -- she needed a cab and wasn't aware where to get it from. She had a petite stature which barely reached my shoulder even with her towering heels. I asked her to walk with me, and eventually had to hold her from falling, while she tic-tac-toed on the road. She continued to ramble on as we walked huddled together, and putting together bits and pieces from her incoherent speech, I came to know that she is studying in Quinnipiac University from a neighboring town, and had come down with her boyfriend and his friends for the 'concert' at Toad's place. She had a spat with her boyfriend which led him to apparently behave (equally if I may add!) silly and dump her by the road. Given her state, I wasn't sure if putting her in a cab was a good idea as she did not have a place to stay in the town. So I decided to walk her to the nearest Yale police beat and arrange Yale escort for her (It is a great service reserved for Yale students and affiliates where they can request Yale transportation practically any time of the day anywhere within the city limits).
Just seeing the blue uniform of Yale police officer inside the small booth bathed with the yellow light warmed my heart. I heaved an audible sigh of relief, catalyzed by my panting, as by now she had completely sagged in my arms, and I was almost dragging her while her incoherent blabberings continued. I quickly told the officer of the situation; he encouraged me to wait on the pavement outside his cubicle for the Yale escort while he would try to expedite its arrival, and went back in his booth making calls. I had already requested for Yale shuttle service and informed them of my location -- they had given me an unusually long wait time given it was Saturday night and many Yale vans were doing double duty dispatching inebriated Yalies to their safe and warm abodes. As we waited for the shuttle, I asked if her boyfriend's number is stored in her phone and tried calling him to no avail. Then she suddenly exclaimed, staring at my hands, "you are so dark, you are not from here, are you?". I replied that she was right and gave her a brief speech on India, by the end of which her eyelids had started drooping. I stopped talking wondering if it was the alcohol or our conversation (I was scared to let her sleep, for both her and my well being!). Suddenly a car turned around the corner, and after coming to a brief halt raced past us. The screech of the tires made her jerk and she slid out of my arms on the pavement, screaming "it was my boyfriend, and the jerk did not stop for me". (My personal guess is that seeing her next to Yale police booth with a stranger might have scared him away!). As I tried to haul her back to her feet, she continued to talk oblivious of my attempts to pick her up. In the mean time, the Yale officer had come outside and he helped me get her back on her feet while we both saw a Yale shuttle approaching us. I showed my Yale ID to the driver and explained him that though the intended traveler is not a Yale affiliate, she needs to be taken some where safe to spend the night. He nodded and a huge weight lifted off me -- literally and metaphorically! As she stumbled towards the escort car, she looked back and shouted " you have been such a good samaritan", produced some money from the folds of her dress and tossed it towards me before collapsing on the car seat. Yale officer and I collected the bills strewn on the pavement and handed them to the driver, who then drove out into dark depths of the night.
As I resumed my walk towards my home, I wondered where would she be (I had forgotten to ask her name!), what could have happened to her, how would her parents react if they ever come to know of this (will they?), what about that boyfriend who had dumped her in such a vulnerable state, and most importantly why do young women open themselves to situations where they are entirely at the mercy of some passerby and his/her intentions. Yes, it is an institution's responsibility to care for the well being of its students, but it cannot do this successfully without students being an active collaborator in this exercise. I am all for freedom to dress and do as we please, but where/how do we draw the line between harmless fun and risk? These questions come in sharper focus with the recent conversations about rape culture in US colleges, but to me their relevance resonates far outside US geographical borders.
very well written.............
ReplyDeletethought provoking
Indeed good one. We have to to respect demarcation line between fun and risk.
ReplyDelete