The need for policy change regarding sexual assault at Trinity

* The author has decided to remain anonymous for the online version of this article

In the last year, articles concerning sexual assault have featured prominently on the internet, in magazines, and in university newspapers. It is fantastic to see that discourse is opening up on what is still an extremely sensitive subject.

When someone is a victim of sexual assault, it takes tremendous courage for that person to share their story. I was certainly not this courageous in my first year, and am extremely grateful that a conversation surrounding sexual assault has finally begun.

Today, Trinity promotes a strong position against sexual violence. However, that does not mean that sexual violence never happens, nor that it is easy to come forward if you have been the victim of it.

My own experience with sexual assault was greeted with widely different reactions. The first was one of compassion: those who had heard of my awful experience were genuinely sorry about what had happened to me and wanted to help. The second reaction was that of indifference: many felt awkward discussing the subject and did not want to talk about it any further. The third reaction I received was one of hostility: some thought I was making the whole story up. When they finally did believe me, they questioned how I could be so irresponsible as to let something like that happen to me.

Many aspects of Trinity, including its academic support, vibrant student government, and wacky traditions, are wonderful. The way it handles sexual assault, however, is not. After my experience, I talked extensively with the Dean, the student heads, and confided in a few close friends. Yet despite reaching out, I finished my first year feeling helpless and totally unsafe. I also felt very alone. The people that I had confided in had already forgotten about my assailants’ crimes and were beginning to make small talk with them again in Strachan, as if nothing had ever happened. I was so angry and obsessed with obtaining retribution that I managed to alienate many of the people closest to me.

It quickly became clear that while I needed support, the reality was - and still is - that Trinity College has no existing institutions to provide it. Trinity does not have specific procedures or policies for tackling sexual assault, and the concept of sexual violence is not even present in our code of conduct.

University victims of sexual assault have three options: reporting the incident to their university administration, turning to the police, or staying silent. As New York Times author Walt Bogdanich rightly pointed out, most students who decide to say something will turn to their school officials rather than the police because they feel more comfortable in the institutions to which they belong.

Falling exactly into this category, I turned to Trinity for help. Yet as much as the administration wanted to, there was little that they could do.

In three months, I had booked seven appointments with the Dean’s office, and while they were always willing to meet with me, I felt less confident each time. While the office did its best and performed an investigation, I was never allowed to witness or hear my assailants’ testimonies. And as a first year against two persuasive fourth years, it was evident that I did not stand a chance.

Up to the last day of classes, I was constantly told that my “investigation was still ongoing.” Yet after the academic year ended, not only did no one follow up on how I was doing, but I was also never given an explanation as to the conclusion of the investigation. It was as though my case had ended along with the academic year.

Moreover, throughout this process, it was also recommended that I go to Counselling and Psychological Services (CAPS) to see Cheryl Champagne, one of U of T’s only campus experts on the matter. She referred me to the Campus Police and several help lines, not understanding my objections to filing a police report. She, like many others, did not understand the dynamic of Trinity’s small community. When your social space, academic space, and living space are all one and the same, it’s incredibly difficult to take that step and file those charges. And let me tell you: the last thing I needed at this sensitive moment was the added insecurity of having everyone at my college know the details of my experience.

It is no one individual’s fault that Trinity was unable to help me. It is however, the fault of a lack of policy at this college. The reality is, the cohesive and protective structures that Trinity prides itself on failed me.

This situation was the scariest thing to ever happen to me. And in my case, the situation never got resolved. For the sake of the rest of the Trinity community, we need to work on the serious lack of policy regarding sexual assault.

Victims of sexual assault should always feel like there is a space for them to come forward. The fact that there is not one at Trinity is unacceptable.

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Trinity against Sexual Assault and Harassment (TASAH):

By Rhiannon Kyle

These traumatic experiences are far too common at campuses all across North America, including Trinity. Many schools are being criticized in media outlets for their ill-equipped responses to sexual violence survivors, and Trinity could very well be next.

For these reasons, myself and Larissa Parker have restarted the club Trinity Against Sexual Assault and Harassment (TASAH) alongside Jordan May and Cas Legrand. TASAH aims to combat sexual violence by promoting preventative measures and holding awareness campaigns throughout the year. We are also pushing for a policy on sexual violence by collaborating with the Community Affairs Committee of the Senate.

We firmly believe that simply airing a video on sexual assault during Frosh Week is not enough, and it is the responsibility of any socially engaged student to advocate for the needs of their community.

Interested in learning more about TASAH? Keep a lookout for how to get involved with TASAH’s executive team.