A Letter to UConn
To the Students, Faculty,
Administration, Fans,
This is not only a goodbye letter, but a letter
written out of gratitude that I am leaving the University of Connecticut. At
first I was ashamed and embarrassed that I could not find my niche at this
university. But suddenly, I am proud and overcome with joy that I do not belong
here. This past semester has been nothing but disappointing. This is mostly in
regards to the students who attend here. I suppose in terms of academics, this
school does not fail to provide an adequate environment that is conducive to
learning. But what this environment is also conducive to is rape, sexual
harassment, and verbal harassment which are all usually directed toward the
female students. While some students are too filled with “Husky Pride” to admit
these acts happen, I am not. I will not use false pride in this university to
cover up the heinous things that occur here.
Although I have only been here a semester (and that
is the longest I will be here), I have encountered multiple situations in which
I was being a target of sexual harassment. While other students found the
encounters to be something of a joke and laughed when it happened, I was
disgusted and horrified. This was my body they were talking about and the
sanctity of it which they were laughing at.
My first notable encounter with verbal harassment
occurred at a party which was maybe a five minute walk from North Campus, just
down North Eagleville Road. I was at a party with a friend and it was late
October so it was pretty cold outside. I’ve never been the one to understand
wearing a mini skirt when it is clearly too cold for that, so I was wearing
jeans and a cardigan. (Not to mention that I also have a boyfriend and I feel
no need to impress the guys on campus.) At this party, you have to go up to
this make-shift bar to get a drink. So I walked up to the bar and asked for a
drink. The guy behind the bar started laughing and said, “Are you going to
church or are you going to a party?” Baffled, I said, “What?” He gestured to
what I was wearing and said, “If you’re looking for Jesus, you’re not going to
find him here. So if you want a drink I’ll put it down here, but if you decide
you want Jesus then you can go.” When this happened I was sincerely annoyed.
What this guy was suggesting was that if I wanted to go to a party my ass and
my boobs should be popping out of a tight dress. What he was suggesting was
that if I wanted to get a drink then I had to look a certain way. What he was
suggesting is that my body is his to
look at and I should dress to make him and every other drooling idiot get a
hard-on. But luckily, I have more self-respect than that and my friend and I
left the party.
My next encounter was the most threatened I had felt
on campus. I was walking on Hunting Lodge Rd., which is also a few minutes
walking distance from campus, with my friend again. A man who was at least six
inches taller than my friend and me approached us from behind. He approached us
as we were waiting for a car to pass to cross the street and said, “I want to
tell you guys what people have been saying behind your back.” Neither my friend
nor I said we were interested in hearing what he had to say and even turned
away from him to signal that there was no need for him to continue talking to
us. But, despite this, he spoke anyway. He put his hand firmly on my shoulder
and said, “You have a nice ass.” Once again my friend and I walked away from
the situation, disgusted. Some people would view this as a harmless act and some
may find his play on words comical. But as a young woman in the middle of
Connecticut with very little to defend herself, I could not and did not see the
comedy in the situation. Someone put his hand on me. I’m not sure how other
people feel about this, but I was raised to believe that no stranger should
ever feel he/she has the right to touch you without your permission and this
guy certainly did not have my permission. In regards to the comment he made, it
was equally as disgusting. In no way, shape, or form did I ever indicate I
wanted him to comment on my body. Can I stop people from looking at me and
thinking what they want to think? No. But just because some people may think
what he said is a compliment, doesn’t mean that I do. And I certainly do not want
people commenting on my body as though it were something that was made for them
to enjoy.
The last encounter I have to mention that I
personally experienced was the most crude, disrespectful, and utterly
disgusting of them all. My friend and I were walking towards North Campus at
about 10:30 p.m. on a Friday night. Two guys on the other side of the street
were walking the opposite direction as us and decided that they needed to say
something. One of them shouted, “Hey! Do you guys wanna be raped?!” My friend
and I did not comment and decided to keep walking away from the two. As we
continued to walk away, one of them shouted to us again, “We’re going to rape
you!” In my 18 God-given years on this planet, never have I ever heard someone
say something like that whether it be jokingly or not. Now, I’m still unsure if
this was meant to be a joke that I was supposed to laugh at or if it was just
something that these guys felt the need to say, but it was by far the most
disgusting thing ever said to me. I have been fortunate throughout my life to
have never been a victim of rape, but the topic is (as it should be) very
sensitive, especially at UConn, since the school is undergoing a lawsuit
pertaining to rape (from 7 different victims, might I add). And yet there are
people at this school who laugh when someone says something like “I’m gonna
rape you!” as if it were a joke. As if a woman’s body is just something a man
gets pleasure from.
People
here treat sexual assault and rape as run of the mill. As something that just
“happens”. But it doesn’t just happen. A woman doesn’t just get roofied, a man
cannot just stick his genitals wherever he wants because he is a student
athlete, a girl does not ask for sex by the way she is dressed, a man does not
have a right to any woman’s body he wants, and ultimately, rape is not a
laughing matter. I know it’s been said time and time again, but I don’t think
the point has been stressed enough: We should not be teaching girls how to not
be victims, we should be teaching boys how not to be pigs who are at the will
of their penis and sexual frustration. Because when it comes down to it, my RA
will add in notes to her emails like, “Be safe this weekend girls and don’t let
any pervert treat you badly!” But what are the chances that the guys’ RA is
sending “Treat women with respect guys! And remember, it’s only consensual if
she actually agrees to have sex with you!” or “Women are more than just a place
to stick your penis! They are living breathing people who have feelings and rights
and if you rape someone it is YOUR fault and she was NOT asking for it!”?
But
ultimately, although I am thankful to be leaving, I do not have ill wishes for
this university. I hope that at some point the administration will open their
eyes and the police will start taking notice of what sexual harassment around
here really is. I hope the students of this university will stop being so
accepting of something that deserves all the intolerance in the world. I hope
the women of this university will proudly wear whatever they want, whether it
is a turtleneck or a mini skirt and not have to hear unwanted comments. I hope
the men, or rather, I hope the boys become men and realize that a woman is a
beautiful and strong creature who deserves nothing less than all of their
respect. I hope this university transforms and rubs it in my face one day there
is zero-tolerance for the rape culture that was once so alive.
Proudly no longer yours,
P.C.L.
