Empathy: The dose is the poison

Severing ties with a friend who was accused of sexual assault.

Personal Essay by ALEC REGIMBAL

When I think of Evan, two images come to mind.The first is of a jovial, heavier-set 22-year-old whose light-brown hair often sprouts in uneven tufts from the sides and back of a ball cap — a testament to his stinginess, since covering one’s hair with a hat is cheaper than paying for regular haircuts — and whose easy smile, accentuated by squinted eyes and one out-of-place canine tooth, never fails to accompany a corny and well-timed joke.

The second is of a stranger who was charged with two counts of fourth-degree assault after a night heavy drinking.

The first image of Evan comes from the four years of love and camaraderie I shared with him here at Western. The second comes from a police report filed after two students accused him of sexual assault.

Evan, like myself, was a journalism major before he graduated in June.

When we met in the dorms at the onset of our freshman year, our shared passion for journalism and holding those in power accountable only strengthened the immediate affinity we had for one another. We came up through the department together, and worked side by side as reporters and editors for three quarters on The Western Front — one in which he was a top editor.

When the allegations against Evan came out over the summer, there was a disconnect between what I knew and how I felt. I knew that what Evan was said to have done was wrong, and I grieved for the alleged survivors; but I wanted to pretend the accusations against him had no bearing on our friendship, and that we could continue on as normal despite the circumstances.

Our history complicated things as news of the charges spread. Many of my friends in the department — most of whom are younger, and didn’t know Evan on a professional let alone personal basis — knew that we were close, and looked to me to condemn him. And I did.

But when I saw how my feelings didn’t match the ardency of those in the department who were attempting to erase any memory of him, I knew I couldn’t convince myself I was as mad as they were, so I stopped trying to be. I didn’t condone the action he’s been charged with by any means, but decided I wasn’t going to abandon a person I once called “brother.”

To justify this, I told myself I was being empathetic. I imagined myself in Evan’s place, in what would surely be my darkest hour, and thought about how I wouldn’t want my closest friends to sever ties with me even if I was guilty.

I told myself our history was more important. Surely, I thought, one minor mistake shouldn’t negate four years of friendship.

I told myself that, relatively speaking, groping isn’t very serious. “It’s not like he was accused of rape, groping probably happens all the time,” I said in my head.

But the more I tried to justify my loyalty, the more I began to realize how uncomfortable it made me.

A few serious questions had been gnawing at me: What if this isn’t the first time someone has accused him? What if it had been someone I loved that had accused him? What makes these allegations different from ones that come against people I don’t personally know?

Not sure of how to deal with my apprehensions, I decided to reveal them to two female confidants in the journalism department who were familiar with the situation.

The first cried, alarmed by what she perceived as me excusing someone accused of sexual assault. The second, with the darkest expression I’ve seen her wear, said she had no sympathy for Evan and insisted I shouldn’t either.

Coming from two people I loved, their reactions haunted me in the days after. I knew it was time for me to seriously consider the implications of my stance.

While all of this was happening, sexual assault allegations came out daily against several people in the celebrity sphere.

The scope of the scandals was shocking. How, I wondered, could so many well-known people sexually assault and harass dozens of prominent women and men and have it go unreported for decades?

And then it hit me. Me. People like me. That’s how.

It only took seconds to realize my mistake.

When someone you’re close to is accused of doing something unsavory, the easiest and most comfortable thing to do is to look past it. That was my immediate, knee-jerk response.

However, this response is exactly how those celebrities were able to do what they did for so long. Looking the other way creates an insidious culture of leniency that allows perpetrators of sexual assault to prey on victims with a notion that they won’t be held accountable.

As a result of that perceived safety net, those perpetrators are not only more likely to assault someone in the first place, but they’re more likely to reoffend as well. And while Evan’s case and the celebrity cases are far from identical, the lesson is the same: Any form of tolerance, whether active or apathetic, perpetuates that culture and allows sexual assault to happen.

The first half of this piece was difficult for me to write, as I’m sure it was difficult for a lot of you to read. But this story is important to tell because I believe many people, men in particular, subscribe to the notion that sexual assault accusations against people they know shouldn’t always result in a definitive end to their relationship.

But whether or not that notion is justified isn’t the point of my story. The point is that, if someone you know is accused of sexual assault, it’s imperative for you to critically assess the implications of your feelings toward that person after you learn of the allegations.

If you’re appalled by what’s happening in Hollywood, you should be equally appalled by what’s happening around you, because it is happening around you.

As the subject of uninvited, physical sexual advances myself, I can speak to the sense of violation and vulnerability it causes. To have people excuse the person would have only trivialized my experience and made me feel worse.

Don’t subject people to that. Hold your friends and acquaintances accountable.

Evan and I haven’t spoken since I came to this realization, and I’m sure he’s still the same person I described in the second paragraph of this story — the one I once thought would be my lifelong friend.

Last month, the two counts of fourth-degree assault charges were amended to two counts of disorderly conduct, according to reporting done by The Western Front. He is expected to appear again in Whatcom Superior Court on Dec. 13, and regardless of how the proceedings play out, I’ll probably never speak to him again.

Evan, you’re smart and wildly talented, and I’m sorry I couldn’t be around to watch the rest of your life unfold, as I had planned.

In short, I wish you the best. Good luck with everything.