How Can I Be an Ally to Survivors of Sexual Assault?
As a man who isn’t a survivor, where do I even start?
Full disclosure: Fearless editor, Gillian Sisley, is my critique partner and friend. She has been instrumental in my journey to caring about the issue of sexual assault to the point that I need to speak out about it, and God has placed this on my heart. I’m an author. With Gillian’s assistance, I’ve written a novel on the subject of assault titled Believed. It will be published one way or another, but that will take time.
Recently I had a few ideas for articles, so I sent them to Gillian. It’s not something I’ve done before, and I wasn’t too surprised when she turned around and challenged me:
“What’s stopping YOU from writing these articles?”
That hit me hard.
She was right. I admire the bravery of all of you who speak up and tell your stories. I can only imagine how difficult that must be, but you do it. You are Fearless. You need to be heard. You need people to listen, and to care, and to change. You need society to take you seriously and to do something about it.
And you need more than the support of other women and survivors alone. You need to reach men like me who have the privilege of ignoring these problems if we so choose. You need us to stand with you and support you and fight for you — to fight alongside you.
I’m sorry that so many of us don’t.
So, what can I do?
I’ve been asking myself how I can help. How can I be your ally? It’s not enough to treat women with respect. It’s not enough to not assault them. That’s a low bar and it’s what makes #NotAllMen so hollow. It ignores the realities you live with.
I’ve seen the way some women tense when I approach behind them on a public path. They’re alone and they hear footsteps moving faster than theirs. I mean them no harm, but they don’t know that. I pass by, and they probably breathe a sigh of relief, but if their heart rate went up and they worried for their safety, then I’m still contributing to the problem — regardless of my intentions.
My mere presence is enough to make them uncomfortable before they’ve even seen me. That’s just one example. There are countless more. You understand far better than I ever will.
I don’t want my daughter to grow up living in fear, but evil persists when the good stand idly by.
I’ve become more aware of this problem.
I’ve read many of your stories and tweets and posts over the last year or so. I can see that you are mad, and that you are scared, and that you are trying to survive in this world that is not safe for you. The headlines and news articles are a daily witness to that. The few survivors I know confirm it as well.
But what do I have to offer?
I don’t have much influence. I don’t have power or fame or wealth to throw behind this cause. Does that mean I should do nothing and hope that someone else will fix it? Should I just leave you to deal with it?
No.
That’s the status quo, and it hasn’t worked out so well. Assault affects women disproportionately, but what affects you affects all of us. All of us need to deal with it.
So, how can I be your ally?
I’ll start by asking the question; what can I do? Comments are welcome, but so many of you have already made clear what you want from us men. You shouldn’t need to repeat it. The answers are out there, and they should be obvious to us. Here are some of the things I will do:
I will listen to what you have to say.
I will read the words that you write.
I will seek to understand your needs and wants, your hopes and fears, your cares and concerns.
I will treat you as my equals because you are.
I will pray for you.
I will encourage other men to be allies.
I will challenge unhelpful behaviors and attitudes among those I can influence.
And I will write.
That is what I do well, and that is how I can best share my thoughts. People relate to stories. Stories make them feel and care. I’ve linked one at the end of this article. It’s about the quest for a soft pretzel, the fight that survivors face, and one man’s choice to become an ally.
Your stories break my heart, and more people should be reading them. If more men truly understood how we hurt you and fail you, maybe it wouldn’t happen so much. If more men joined the conversation, maybe others would hear. If I (a man) write on this topic from my perspective, maybe a few other men will read. Maybe.
I can hope.
Right now, I’ll tell you that I hear you, I believe you, I care, and I’m sorry for the ways you’ve been hurt. It’s not okay.
But why do I care?
A couple of years ago, sexual assault (to me) was that thing that made the news once in a while. It was a problem that a few people dealt with. It didn’t affect me or anyone I knew. It was perpetrated by bad men, and the victims often seemed questionably believable. The news media doesn’t typically help them in that regard.
Assault wasn’t a big deal to me…
Until I got to know a survivor.
We met and connected in quite a random manner, but she tugged at my heart and introduced me to the Fearless community. I realized that this is not a small problem, and that it affects many more people than I thought.
And then a woman I know went public.
When you see someone you’ve known for years reveal their story and the pain they’ve endured, that brings this issue home. I had no reason to doubt her. I knew her character. I believed her, and sexual assault was suddenly very real.
It happens all around me. I just don’t see it.
Statistically speaking, there must be many more survivors within my social circles, but they don’t talk about it. They are silent, and their trauma is carried in secret.
That’s what makes Fearless so powerful.
This community speaks and shares and supports one another. It brings this issue out of the shadows and asks the world to take notice.
That message reached me.
For the men reading this:
You’ve stumbled upon this page somehow, or you had a specific reason to read this article. If you want to learn more about the problem of sexual assault, here’s where I would start, because these are the places that helped me:
- RAINN.org The US’s largest anti-sexual violence organization. Read over their website and look at the statistics in particular. They are eye-opening and heartbreaking. I had no idea…
- Fearless She Wrote — this community right here on Medium. Read the stories. Read what these survivors write. They are people too, just like us, and we can learn so much from them about a world we don’t experience in the same way.
- Fearless She Spoke — the Fearless podcast. The episodes range from serious to silly, but they show the humanity of the hosts in ways written words cannot. Listen to them. They share so much, and they gave me valuable perspective.
Please, take this seriously. Survivors live with trauma 24/7. They don’t get to turn it off and go do something else whenever they feel like it.
We need to realize that.
The link below is an allegorical short story that depicts one man’s decision to be an ally.
