Sexual Harassment is a Form of Racial Trauma for Black Women and Non-Binary Students

By Kamaria Porter

Photo by Clarke Sanders

This piece is a part of our Spark series: Understanding Sexual Harassment Through an Anti-Racist Lens

Sexual harassment remains a pervasive problem on college campuses. Black women experience sexual harm on campus at greater rates than white women and the harassment they experience is often racialized. Through the Speaking Into Silence research project, I conducted 46 narrative interviews with Black women and non-binary students, participants often prefaced their stories of sexual assault by describing incidents of racialized gender and sexual harassment. I found over 30 incidents of racialized sexual harassment, spanning multiple forms of harm outside of sexual assault. When participants were targeted with harassment by white or non-Black people, they felt stereotyped as hyper-sexual. Experiences of sexual harassment by other Black people caused a sense of betrayal from someone with a shared cultural background.

Black women and non-binary students described how racialized sexual harassment reinforced harmful stereotypes. Giselle, a non-binary student, described frequent unwanted sexual advances from white male students. In one instance, Giselle walked to their residence hall with a white male student. When the two said goodbye with a hug, the white student graded Giselle’s butt “with both hands’ ‘ and looked amused by what he did. Ariana attended a southern, public Predominately White Institution (PWI) and detailed frequent instances of groping and unwanted physical contact by the white boyfriend of a Black woman friend. Whenever Ariana socialized with the couple, the white student “would kind of get close to me and just kind of like always try to find a way to touch me in any way shape or form.” In these cases, Black women and non-binary students viewed this sexual harassment as part of their multiple minoritized status on PWIs.

Black women also described racialized gender and sexual harassment at Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs). During her first year, Anna Julia waited four months to receive her aid refund. She stood in line for hours, waiting to talk to a financial aid officer. An administrator noticed Anna Julia and offered to assist her. Anna Julia remembered that he, a Black man, escorted her to his dark office, neglected to turn on the lights, and seemed to be making a big show of fixing her problem. After he said, “Now that I’ve done that for you, here’s what I want you to do for me… I’ve got your number through your student account. You’ve got to let me take you out.” Anna Julia feared further harassment because of his access to her personal information. Serena worked in athletics at an HBCU and was one of few women in the unit. A colleague approached her at a work event and propositioned her for sex. She said no, but he continued to message her. Those actions created a hostile work environment where Serena would avoid meetings he attended. Black women felt let down by their institutions, as they choose HBCUs to avoid racial harassment. Yet, racialized sexual harassment made attending Black higher education institutions, to quote Anna Julia, “an incredibly tough place to be a Black woman.”

Racialized sexual harassment compounded other types of racial harm Black women experienced at PWIs. Sharee attended a selective liberal arts college and experienced gendered racism and classism in her first weeks of school. First, her wealthy white roommate moved rooms after meeting Sharee, saying since Sharee grew up in public housing she posed a threat. Soon after, Sharee attended an off-campus party of majority white students. A white male student started dancing near her and they briefly danced together. Sharee continued, “And while we were dancing, he went ahead and proceeded to just put his hands down my pants and start groping me… I was like, “What the f*%k? What’s wrong with you?” I pushed him off of me, and he was like, ‘What do you mean this is not okay? I do this to Black girls all the time.’” [emphasis added].

Sharee later discovered the white male student would drive around with his uncle and sexually assault Black women. His comment revealed to Sharee that he was “taught that there’s a perpetual sexual availability of Black women and their bodies… always and forever, just because.” Having a white roommate move out and being targeted with racialized sexual harassment as her introduction to college, framed Sharee’s experience at her PWI as a perpetual “outsider” on campus. Sharee struggled to find counseling or support at her PWI, as there were no professionals that she could express the racial, sexual, and class based harm she experienced. Many participants shared they did not seek campus resources for fear of reinforcing stereotypes of Black people. For instance, Sharee received pushback from a white woman counselor, discounting the blatant racism within the assault. Campus sexual assault service providers tended to view sexual harassment solely through a gender lens. Therefore, higher education institutions must invest in hiring support staff who are Black women, transgender, and non-binary to provide responsive care along multiple axes of identity.

Mixed race Black women described racialized sexual harassment through the lens of colorism. Black men fetishized mixed race women calling them “the most eligible” and admiring their skin tone. Tessa recalled feeling, “people were attracted to me on a base level was like this, ‘Oh, she’s black, but she’s not really black.’” Mixed race Black women were targeted by white male students who eroticized their appearance. Lauryn dated a white student who told racist jokes, excusing them saying “oh, I have a Black girlfriend.” Racialized sexual harassment frustrated mixed race Black women because it represented a preference for whiteness within their identity. We need more research to understand the range of interconnections between racism and sexual harassment. Climate surveys on sexual harassment should include questions to identify the ways racism and colorism influences the harassment Black women experience.

Social and party spaces were particularly harmful for Black women and non-binary students. Letitia attended an HBCU and said at parties she would be dancing with other Black women and men would “just force themselves” on her and others. Pauli attended an elite PWI and noticed Black men in their 2nd year hosted parties during the summer and only invited incoming Black women students. These younger Black women were in pre-college programs. Pauli noticed Black male students pointing out younger Black women that wanted to “get with.” Pauli commented, “that’s kind of f’ed up that [incoming Black women] are doing a program trying to get their lives together, and you guys are taking that as an opportunity to essentially groom them.” As demonstrated here, participants needed a space where they could talk to and warn other Black women about racialized sexual harassment. Institutions must invest in spaces for Black women, trans, and non-binary students to form supportive networks and organize for anti-carceral, transformative policies that would actually protect Black women.

Sexual harassment is a form of racial trauma for Black women and non-binary students and by taking racialized sexual harassment seriously, we can create safer campus environemnts. Universities lack policies that can attend to the unique combination of racialized sexual harassment. Institutions tend to separate resources for racial bias from sexual misconduct procedures. In order to make our campuses equitable, leaders need to attend to racialized sexual harassment on campuses to prevent harm and promote Black women’s educational and professional thriving.

Kamaria B. Porter is an Assistant Professor in the Education Policy Studies department at The Pennsylvania State University. Her research focuses on racial and gender inequities in higher education and interconnections between civil rights law and institutional policy.

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