A culture of reporting

In early October, Duke University eliminated the statute of limitations on student sexual misconduct. Compared to January, when the statute was shortened from two years to one, the elimination was a reason to celebrate. It represented the efficacy of students over and above illogical administrative rules. More importantly, it represented the recognition that reporting sexual assault shouldn’t be curtailed in any fashion, which at the very least requires a decent timeframe allowed for coming forward.

When the statute was shortened last semester, I emailed Stephen Bryan, associate dean of students and director of the Office of Student Conduct. He wrote in an email, “While I recognize that some may feel that narrowing the timeframe for reporting will mean fewer reports, the evidence doesn’t show this to be the case. I have reviewed all sexual misconduct cases reported to my office for disciplinary action over the past 10 academic years, and 96 percent were reported in less than a year after the incident.”

I was outraged that this evidence was being used to justify a reduction in the statute. Why marginalize the 4 percent of people who were reporting after a year? Why assume that sexual assault is easy enough to report in a year? And why send a backward message to students that sexual assault reporting should be curtailed in any way?

The real evidence we should be using to guide policy is that last year, only six reports were brought to the Office of Student Conduct, according to the Women’s Center. That has to be a small fraction of actual sexual assaults committed. In that sense, eliminating the statute of limitations alone is not going to be a watershed in eliminating sexual assault. There’s only one mechanism that can achieve some sort of vast decrease in sexual assault: increased reporting.

There’s the obvious reason of why reporting decreases assault: perpetrators may be repeat offenders. But there’s also wider Duke culture, and right now we have a culture of perpetrators knowing they will most likely never get reprimanded for any sexual assault crimes. Compared to any other crime, sexual assault is the one that is least likely to get any retribution. Robbery, for example, is disincentivized by the likelihood that the victim will report lost belongings and evidence may trace the crime to a suspect. It’s a sad way of viewing the world—that we need punishments in order to not commit crimes, but it’s a reality of life and of Duke and that’s why we have judicial systems. We need a culture of reporting, one where perpetrators are cognizant they are likely to get punished.

But this isn’t about requesting that anyone who has been assaulted go and report now. That would be fantastic and truly a watershed, but from personal experience, I know that is a vast oversimplification of the difficult nature of sexual assault. It can be much more personal than reporting a robbery. It can be unsafe. It can lead to an investigation that requires more contact with a perpetrator or emotional triggers. And due to victim blaming and other pernicious societal constructs, it can lead to other negative aspects as well.

The responsibility of making Duke safer is all of ours. A culture of reporting can’t be solely about victims facing their perpetrators to do something for the greater good of Duke or society; it has to involve all of us. Most basically, we can be informed about the reporting process through platforms like bystander training. With more effort, we can think about how to change processes and policies so that reporting becomes less of a burden to be shouldered by victims. We can change the way we think and speak about assault to gradually chip away at tendencies towards victim blaming. If someone is trying to tell you about an instance of sexual assault, don’t ask about clothes or alcohol or promiscuity. Those factors are not only irrelevant to assault, but they contribute to silencing people we need to hear.

That silence is the single greatest ammunition for perpetrators. So lastly, raise your voice when you experience or see injustice. Given circumstances, reporting isn’t always a good option, but the culture of reporting isn’t purely about official reports; it’s about dialogue, awareness and understanding. I didn’t report for various reasons, but I chose to break my silence during my sophomore year on a blog for my friends and other Duke students to see. Breaking the silence is how I found a way to re-form past bleak memories into active understanding. We can always listen and emerge more connected. In the end, that’s how we’re going to create a community of students that respect and care for one another.