I have struggled with how to write this, how to respond to the information coming out of Cornell University.

As a survivor, what happened to Jane Doe is frighteningly close to my own life, so everything I say has to be filtered through my own memories and experience. Simply thinking about what happened to her pulls me back in time nearly forty years, causing me to relive it all over again.

As a survivor advocate who is honored to hear the stories and experiences of many other survivors, I wish I were even remotely surprised by what Jane Doe experienced, not at the hands of her rapists, but at the hands of the Cornell system that moved swiftly to protect not her, but the people who had harmed and abused her so horribly. 

Holding those two things, and the reality of my life as a pastor of three United Church of Christ congregations, entrusted with the sacred work of accompanying folks as they walk the life of discipleship in this world, I have no choice but to write something.

Let’s start with some observations from the lawsuit recently filed:

• Jane Doe was repeatedly gang raped at Cornell, at the Chi Phi fraternity house, in October 2024 by a “friend” and six other men;
• You cannot consent if you are unable to consent because of alcohol, drugs, or if consent is forced through physical violence or intimidation (one person against seven men should clearly meet the standard of intimidation) and yes, laws on this vary considerably across the United States so this comment isn’t meant as a legal conclusion, but rather a moral one – you cannot consent if you are intoxicated;
• Others, at least fifty other members of the fraternity, knew about what was happening because one of the perpetrators invited them to join in – none of the others reported it to any law enforcement or university officials;
• Jane Doe reported the crime and there were both police and university investigations;
• Cornell University officials redacted (edited) Jane Doe’s statement before giving it to local law enforcement, including removing her direct statements that she had not consented to what happened;
• Police declined to pursue charges, and may or may not have informed Jane Doe about their decision (the lawsuit she has filed says that they never contacted her again after her initial statement);
• The university’s administrative reviews under Title IX held hearings, allowing the accused to defend themselves, and take actions such as essay writing for reflection to mitigate (ease) any consequences they might face;
• The fraternity suspended at least some of the men involved;
• The national fraternity’s organization said that Cornell’s chapter of the fraternity could no longer be active.

Now some further observations from a survivor, advocate, follower of Jesus, pacifist, and pastor:

If you’re surprised by any of this, you haven’t been paying attention.

The system (all the systems) is rigged against survivors. We are instantly disbelieved, thought to be lying, accused of placing ourselves in dangerous situations, and more. We bear the burden to explain why someone else hurt us in the most intimate way, while the perpetrator is routinely given the benefit of the doubt because they’re “good young men who made mistakes and have promising futures” and other such nonsense that excuses their crimes. If alcohol or drugs are involved, it blames the survivor, but excuses the behavior of the perpetrator.

We are repeatedly questioned if we want to go through with reporting this because, we are told, that they’ll drag up everything about us – from what we were wearing, to why we were there, to why we didn’t fight back (even if we did), to how come we waited to report (even if we didn’t), to our sexual history, to why we shop at certain stores because don’t you know it’s just provoking them if we’re wearing fancy bras and panties, or too much lipstick, or something else.

We’re also told, if we aren’t stereotypically pretty, that maybe we should be grateful someone paid attention to us, that they took pity on our fat selves, or our ugly selves, since no one would want to have sex with us under other circumstances than force and coercion.

All of the excuses come regardless of the circumstances.

Children are raped in their beds in their pajamas and we’re told that the perpetrators just couldn’t help themselves. The same is true of elderly and disabled survivors who are assaulted in their care facilities. Women are assaulted for wearing modest clothing, or not wearing it, depending on the bias of the perpetrator. Women are assaulted at work places, and schools, and churches, in public busses and airplanes, and by the very law enforcement officers who are supposed to protect them (including in many a jail and prison by the guards charged with their care).

Women are tired.

Yes, men are assaulted as well, and yes, we very much need to take that seriously, but there are a lot of people (men) who only care about male victims when they think it will get them out of the responsibility of doing something about female victims. Let’s have that conversation at another time, in another forum.

But for the moment, let me say all the women in your life, absolutely all of them, every damn last one of us, is tired of living in a world where this is our daily reality. We don’t go out without letting at least one other person know where we are. We don’t take the Uber or Lyft without all the possible security options engaged, without our friends knowing the driver’s name and license plate, without even maybe having a phone conversation during the entire trip just to make sure we are overheard if something happens.

Double or triple those precautions after dark, or in communities we aren’t familiar with, if we’re on a work trip, and more. This is how we have been living from an early age, learning how to avoid or appease or fend off unwanted advances since grade school.

We all need to be better bystanders.

The power is in our hands, all of our hands, to do something. At least one of the fifty members of the fraternity who received the invitation to participate in attacking Jane Doe had the foresight to take pictures of the messages which preserved them, but that’s all he did.

None of them looked at the initial message, and the following “conversation” and thought to themselves that this wasn’t right, that there was a human being suffering, that maybe they should pick up another phone and tell someone, anyone ~ law enforcement, the university, someone outside their fraternity, their parents.

We can’t any of us be that way. We have to pay attention, to care about folks even (particularly) if we don’t know them. We have to do something.

Yes, it can be risky. We might lose friends, but frankly friends like this aren’t really the kind you want in your life anyway, but we could very well save a life.

Thanks to technology we have options that don’t involve us putting ourselves physically in the midst of situations where violence might be inflicted on us. We simply have to be paying attention, to be good bystanders, good members of the world community, better human beings.

We need to education ourselves, and our community.

The scope of the problem of sexual violence is immense. Conservative estimates are 1 in 4 women in the United States and 1 in 2 women world wide. Hold that in your heart for a minute and think about the three or four women closest to you.

When someone says “it’s not all men”, the reality is that it’s all women, every woman you know has experienced something, some violation, abuse, unwanted attention and more. If she hasn’t told you about it, it’s a combination of shame which isn’t hers to carry, and the fact that she might not trust you not to use that information and experience against her in some way.

But, friends, we can change this. We can make a different world. We can listen and respond with compassion and gentleness.

We can practice saying “I’m sorry, it shouldn’t have happened, and I believe you.”

Write it on your hand if you need to, until those are the only words you speak when someone first entrusts you with their experience. No questions, no what-ifs, no victim blaming or shaming. Nothing except “I’m sorry, it shouldn’t have happened, and I believe you.”

That’s what almost every survivor I’ve ever known (myself included) is waiting to hear.

And we can educate our communities, whatever circles we are a part of, talking about and practicing ongoing consent in all kinds of things like asking IF someone wants a hug, or IF they’re done with the plate in front of them at dinner. Consent is supposed to be a part of every aspect of our lives.

And men can talk with each other, learning healthier ways to be men, turning their backs on the macho masculinity often called bro-culture. They can challenge locker room talk, the language that makes women less than human. They can interrupt “jokes” that aren’t really jokes, and use the power and privilege they have as men in our culture to create a new way of living and being.

I have many more things I can, and in time will say about Cornell, and how we create a different world, but this is my beginning. I really am serious about wanting to be in conversation with you, with your church or faith community if that’s your thing, in whatever way I can because I really do believe a better world is possible.

Peace,

Moira