This year we held a community contest seeking original artwork to be the 2019 official Take Back the Night design for our "Light Out of Darkness" theme. We were honored to receive a number of powerful submissions and voted as a community collective to select a winner. Congratulations to Laura Rowley for her winning design, a celestial creation! These designs are my personal interpretation of "Light Out of Darkness." I considered my own experience as a survivor/thriver of sexual assault. After years of therapy and time with supportive friends and family, I feel a sense that I can spread my energy and positive light outward. Initial ideas and images included a dancer surrounded in light, stars, and suns. I chose the font of letters with geometrical shapes for "Light Out of Darkness" to represent the network of community support that survivors need to process experiences. The sun-like image represents anyone who transitions from trauma to recovery and joy. For me, "Take Back the Night" is such an important event for survivors to share their experiences with one another and with the community. It creates a feeling of solidarity and hope that we can work together toward ending rape culture in our society. What is the most rewarding part of being an artist in our community? I teach bookbinding, printmaking and papermaking, and I am passionate about socially-engaged art. I feel most fulfilled when collaborating on projects that make a positive impact in people’s lives and our environment, to create a more fair and just world. I currently work around the Finger Lakes Region with libraries, afterschool programs, colleges, organizations like the Advocacy Center, small businesses, other artists, and art therapists, sharing skills and artwork. It has been a personal goal for a long time to become a teaching artist, to get to connect with all sorts of people making art, and I am grateful that this community supports me in doing what I love.
In my own transition from victim to survivor/thriver, light has been a source of inspiration for healing, both physically and mentally. I chose the constellation font to represent the community support network that survivors need for processing their traumatic experiences. It is important to connect with others who have had similar experiences, as well as share with those people who have not. The sun-like image represents the transition from trauma to recovery to joy.
The phrase “the personal is political“ was first used by feminists in the 1970s to express the idea that sexual violence is rooted in a larger system of people taking advantage of power in relationships. It is not our fault for getting hurt. We can work together to end rape culture in our society. We can build power by sharing our stories and fighting back against the societal forces that make rape culture acceptable.
Unlimited energy! I’m an introvert and social situations are quite exhausting for me—but they also inspire me, feed me and give me purpose.
My first bookbinding professor used to tell our class "move forward in a positive way." This has helped me in so many situations where I have felt lost or overwhelmed. It also reminds me of my professor, a dynamic mentor who lead me to find my identity and passion. Just keep moving forward, together. Forty years strong in our community, Take Back the Night is an international event hosted by locales and groups across the globe. This march, rally, and candlelight vigil calls for an end to sexual and intimate partner violence in our community and world. The event supports survivors of domestic violence, sexual assault, rape, and child sexual abuse, and their allies to speak out and be heard.
Take Back the Night traces its roots to the early 1970s when students on college campuses, feminists , and concerned citizens in major cities marched, rallied, and spoke out against issues surrounding violence against women. In the following decades, community-driven, annual events under the banner “Take Back the Night” began, often in partnership with local sexual assault groups and advocacy agencies like ours. Take Back the Night amplifies the message that you are not alone, we believe you, it is not your fault, you and your story matter, and there is space and support for you. With this in mind, our organizing collective chose the 2019 theme “Light Out of Darkness.” To the collective, Light Out of Darkness conveys hope, creates an inviting tone for Take Back the Night, emphasizes empowerment, builds awareness, and opens conversations. On that note, Take Back the Night is about creating a platform for all survivors and victims of the many forms domestic and sexual violence can take. We shine the light to acknowledge that people of all genders, races, nationalities, classes, abilities, sexual orientations, ages, religions, identities, and affiliations are impacted. This is a human issue that impacts everyone. That said, it is important and empowering to notice and address the differing ways some people and groups are disproportionately affected, including women, women of color, indigenous communities, people with a disability, and members of the LGBTQ community. Visit RAINN, National Sexual Violence Resource Center, and The Center for Disease Control for more information. While our community and society have shifted and changed in the past 40 years, with more public acknowledgement of and conversation about sexual harassment and violence, we have critical, transformational work still to do. Take Back the Night is a moment, a movement, and a platform for this work. It is about acknowledging the whole picture, a time for putting our attention on the darkness of the past, illuminating the light of the present, and setting our intentions on a future that is possible where everyone is safe from harm. Join us on April 26th with marches leaving from Cornell University, Ithaca College, and GIAC downtown locations to a rally and speak-out at the Bernie Milton Pavilion on the commons 7-9pm, and candlelight vigil. Together we’ll shine the Light Out of Darkness to demand and actively create the future we want to see. The #metoo movement was monumental in creating a national conversation and awareness about the issue of sexual assault and harassment in the United States. The safe space it created for many previously silenced survivors to publicly disclose through social media, and the sense of community and understanding it created cannot be overlooked. However for many survivors of historically marginalized communities, the single story that the media told about the participants of #metoo and survivors of sexual assault, pushed them out of the arena to speak and further silenced their voices. An article by The Huffington post that included interviews of survivors of color states that “many women of color have been vocal about the fact that #MeToo hasn’t represented their stories, even though the movement was founded by activist Tarana Burke, who is black." This is particularly unfortunate because, as cited by the article, "women of color face harassment and assault at higher rates than white women." This year because Ithaca’s TBTN theme is Justice for #metoo, it is important to recognize what this phrase means to people of all different identities and to actively seek to recenter the margins surrounding this movement to create space for all to speak and seek justice.
Why do I take back the night? I take back the night because 1 out of every 6 American women has been the victim of an attempted or completed rape in her lifetime. I take back the night because every 98 seconds, an American is sexually assaulted, and every 8 minutes, that victim is a child. I take back the night because I am a survivor, I am a teen, I was sexually assaulted over the course of 6 years. I always felt that telling my story would help because I felt that the culture around me blames me as the victim for what had happened. I take back the night because 32,000 pregnancies are the result of rape each year and I am one of those 32,000 people, and I want justice for me, too. My offender was my mother's boyfriend and just like every kid, I just was so happy someone was there for my family and me. I saw him as my parent, my dad. The first time he assaulted me I was only 6 years old. I did not understand at the time that it was wrong because I was so young and he was my father figure who “cared” about me. I also did not understand that it would become a reoccurring thing. As I grew older, the abuse worsened: more brutal and longer lasting. The pain never went away. I was scared, lonely, and hurt, and the only thing I could do to help myself was keep quiet-- at least that is what I thought. He would say he “missed me” and that he “wanted to have a little fun for the night.” If I didn't respond, he would rip my clothes off and make me wake up, and he'd rape me, over and over. He would tell me that we would be together forever. He told me he loved me and that he was going to leave my mom because I was his girlfriend. I was disgusted. I knew I couldn't take much more of it. Before I was a “teen” I found out that I was pregnant. By him. Everything went downhill from there. I had cops come and interview me about what "happened" as to how I got pregnant. I played it off, saying it was some other teenager. They didn't believe me. They screamed in my face and told me I was a liar. After that experience, I really felt like I could not trust the justice system. I was scared for what would happen to my family if I told them the truth. I went on with my pregnancy and when I gave birth, the police came back to the hospital asked me if they could get a DNA swab from my baby and if there was anything I left out of my story. I began to cry and cry and cry and I knew from that point on I didn't want to take my child home to the man that raped me. I didn't want to open up the possibility to the same thing happening to my baby in my house. So I told, and they arrested him. Now he is in jail. TBTN means so much to me because I want everyone to know that there are people who support victims; That there are people here, in our own community, to listen and support them. We live in a culture where the victims are being scrutinized and told its "their fault". We need to shut that down. It is never a survivor’s fault. We don’t ask to be sexually assaulted. We need to start focusing on the perpetrators of sexual assault: their behaviors, their actions, holding them accountable. All of us together can create change. We can create a world that doesn't consist of rape culture, where no means no and yes means yes, where it doesn't matter what I wear because my clothes don't decide if someone is going to rape me or not. We all need to take back the night, for what is right. For this series of blog posts, I will be collecting stories and statements from survivors of sexual or domestic violence and doing my best to respectfully and accurately share their voice with readers to empower those who agreed to share and other survivors, and to educate allies about the implications of sexual violence and the healing process afterwards. -Meghan McKenzie (TBTN intern) Ashley, Take Back The Night Collective Member Empowered with a passion to share her story to validate other survivor’s experiences and filled with a strong desire to hold perpetrators accountable for their actions, Ashley immediately jumped at the opportunity to be the first person interviewed for this blog series. Although this is her first year participating in Take Back the Night, Ashley explained that she had been aware of TBTN “forever” and had always supported survivors of sexual violence from afar. Her closeness to the issue became suddenly too intimate a few years ago, when she experienced sexual violence by a trusted partner in what she now recognizes as an abusive relationship. “He had no idea that it was wrong” she told me. Despite the victim-blaming she received from her closest friends, and an unsympathetic, lethargic response from her employer (where the perpetrator was also employed), Ashley has emerged strong and continues healing through self love and seeking support. After taking time to heal and grow from her experience, this year she felt ready and called to participate in TBTN and currently serves on the collective board which plans the event. As a collective member, Ashley was part of the team that chose this year’s theme for TBTN: Justice for me too. When I asked her what justice meant to her and why this theme mattered, frustration filled her face and tears began to collect in her eyes as she described the impossible situation to get perpetrators to recognize the implications of their actions. Accountability and justice were desires she had for years but she never saw transpire, “I just want men specifically (and women) to realize how damaging a little thing can be. If you aren’t getting consent, you’re doing a shitty thing.” Through TBTN, she is now taking a stand to help other survivors demand and gain justice in their own, personal way. When I asked Ashley “why do you Take Back the Night?,” she determinedly responded “I feel like we are on the cusp of finally being heard, anything I can do to contribute, I will.” This powerful statement encompasses the passion and steadfast attitude that I aspire to have in going into Take Back the Night this April. “I am no longer accepting the things I cannot change. I am changing the things I cannot accept” -Dr. Angela Davis (Activist) Hi I’m Meghan McKenzie, a Junior at Cornell University, and I’m beyond excited to serve as the Take Back the Night Intern this year. When thinking about what I wanted to say to introduce myself and explain “Why I Take Back the Night”, Davis’ timeless quote immediately came to mind. I think it’s the unapologetic anger in her words, the urgency she feels in the moment, and her belief in herself (that she, herself possesses the power to change what she cannot accept) that really speak to me. These feelings she expressed reflect what I, and what survivors and allies nationwide are feeling during this time in history. Why do I Take Back the Night? I Take Back the Night because I cannot accept that one in five women will be sexually assaulted during her lifetime. I cannot accept that one in four adult women and one in six adult men reported reported that they were sexually abused as children. I cannot accept that 43.3% of heterosexual women, 40.2% of gay men and 50% of transgender people have experienced sexual violence within their lifetime. I cannot accept that one in three women and one in four men have been victims of physical intimate partner violence. My passions and background: I first realized my passion for ending violence against women in high school. We were learning about "bride burning", and I remember feeling physically hot with anger and disgust that this could be real, that someone was capable of doing this to another person. As I sat in class, burning up with rage, it was the first time in my life that I realized what I was passionate about and what I would dedicate my life to. At Cornell, this general passion for human rights became more refined to fighting sexual violence after participating in an Alternative Spring Break trip in NYC. There I learned about the issue of commercial sexual exploitation of children and spent time with survivors who had experienced this. I continued serving as an activist for CSEC survivors and educating the Cornell community about this issue through the club Students Against Sexual Solicitation of Youth (SASSY). Later I began working to mitigate issues of sexual assault on campus, presenting workshops to educate students about how to support a friend who has experienced an assault. These experiences led me to email the Ithaca Advocacy Center about how to get involved and my serendipitous discovery of this internship for planning Take Back the Night. What is Take Back the Night? Take Back the Night is an annual, world-wide march and rally to speak out against sexual assault and intimate partner violence and for women to reclaim the right to feel safe while walking alone at night. It is an inclusive, intersectional event meant to give survivors a platform to express their voice and come together with allies in the fight against sexual violence. To me Take Back the Night means standing up for what is right and speaking out against injustice. It means embracing and supporting survivors, and allowing them to speak when they have been silenced for so long. It means demanding justice and not tolerating apathy. It means coming together in solidarity, and changing what we cannot accept. This year our theme is Justice for me too. This theme represents community and unity for survivors, but also focuses on healing for the individual and recognizing that justice means something different for each person. Take Back the Night will be held on Friday April 27th, 2018. If you want to get involved please email us at [email protected]. Below is a blog post from the 2017 Take Back the Night event photographer, Isabelle Levy. My name is Isabelle Levy. I am a teen form Ithaca New York and this was my first time going to Take Back The Night. I had heard about it previously from several peers, and had already predetermined that it would be an amazing event. But I didn't know until I was able to experience it myself. The amount of support that I witnessed at both the rally and the march was incredible. Ithaca is such a strong community and to see people really putting themselves out there and telling their stories was so inspiring. While taking photos I was able to really see and understand what people were feeling during this event. While searching the crowd for photo opportunities I was amazed at the number of allies that were present. While taking photos I am always so much more aware and in tap with people’s feelings and emotions, and so being there as a photographer was an eye opening experience. The performances were very moving and I could tell how much passion all of these people put into what they do. I'm incredibly glad that I had the opportunity to experience take back the night from the perspective of the camera lens, and I am so proud of the people who bravely shared their stories with the community. If you would like to check-out my photography blog, click HERE Isabelle Jada Levy Take Back The Night is tonight. It is an incredibly powerful to march, stand, and listen to each other’s experiences. It’s healing, empowering, and an important experience for many survivors and allies. But, processing everything that happens, from the survivor speak outs, performances, the clothesline project, and the act of marching together is necessary. We will be handing out programs at the rally with a couple strategies for self-care. These are suggestions for things you can use or do if you’re having challenging feelings. It’s normal to have a variety of feelings like anger, sadness, hopelessness, hope, or power after an event like this. It is important to acknowledge these feelings and to take care of yourself. Just a reminder, if you are feeling overwhelmed there are people that can and want to help. At the rally, there will be Advocacy Center Advocates wearing pink armbands that can help you if you’re working through some overwhelming feelings. You can also call our 24-Hour Hotline: 607-277-5000 or the Suicide Crisis Hotline: 607-272-1616 This past year, the quote by Audre Lorde in Bursts of Light has been on my mind. “Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare.” This statement is incredible. We live in a world where some people are given advantages that protect their health, safety, education and some people have to march in the streets to get others to recognize their humanity. Taking care of yourself and giving yourself time to process and heal isn’t self-indulgence. Self-care isn’t about being happy, it is about finding a way to exist in a world that does not want some people to exist. And when that happens, it is self-preservation. And that self-preservation is an act of warfare. In a piece reflecting on Bursts of Light, Sara Ahmed comes up with a definition of what self-care is, “Self-care: that can be an act of political warfare. In directing our care towards ourselves we are redirecting care away from its proper objects, we are not caring for those we are supposed to care for; we are not caring for the bodies deemed worth caring about. And that is why in queer, feminist and anti-racist work self-care is about the creation of community, fragile communities, assembled out of the experiences of being shattered. We reassemble ourselves through the ordinary, everyday and often painstaking work of looking after ourselves; looking after each other. This is why when we have to insist, I matter, we matter, we are transforming what matters. Women’s lives matter; black lives matter; queer lives matter; disabled lives matter; trans lives matter; the poor; the elderly; the incarcerated, matter.” To read more of her reflection on Audre Lorde’s often restated quote, please follow this link. Below, I’ve listed a couple suggestions for self-care. This isn’t an exhaustive list. Self-care looks different for everyone. There is no one way path to healing. As long as we are deliberately and intentionally choose to put our well being first, even if it’s just for a little bit each day, we are fighting against injustice. Here are the suggestions from the self-care cards handed out at the rally. Talk- Find friends, family or other support people to share your feelings with Laugh- Identify activities and people that make you feel good and happy Eat Healthy- making healthy meal choices can help us to feel good about ourselves and our bodies Relax- Make an effort to take a walk, a bath, do yoga or meditate; even for a few minutes Focus on the good- Work to highlight the positives, which will help to identify active solutions as problems arise Ask for help! If you are feeling overwhelmed there are people that can & want to help! For more readings on self-care, please take a look at the posts below: Self-Care and Social Justice Work Practicing Radical Self-Love: Why You Need Self Care the Most When it Seems Impossible An Interactive Self-Care Guide For Black Women, Self Care is a Radical Act 5 Tips for Self-Care in a Culture That Glorifies Stress Take Back The Night marches will leave: Ithaca College -- Textor Ball at 6:15pm Cornell -- Ho Plaza at 6:30pm Community March -- GIAC at 301 W. Court Street at 6:45pm The Rally will begin at 7pm at the Bernie Milton Pavilion! ASL interpreters will be available at the rally. We will also have shirts for sale from a sliding scale of $12-20 I take back the night, day, afternoon, morning. I take back my life. My body. My mind. My soul. As a survivor of lifelong domestic violence, I dissociated to escape my trauma-filled childhood reality of witnessing abuse. I internalized the toxic notion that feeling powerful requires domination and control, foundational elements of toxic masculinity, and I am currently in the process of detoxifying my soul of it. I witnessed my alcoholic father emotionally and verbally abuse my mother and watched my mother, a hypochondriac, retreat in her domestic shell away from him. I used to underestimate my childhood trauma with sayings along the lines of, “Other people have it worse.” and “I wasn’t sexually abused.” as an effort to minimize my deep-seated pain. Only recently have I gotten in touch with my childhood triggers: aggressive body language, angry tones, doors slamming, certain smells. I take back my life in order to shatter this toxic cycle. I embrace the divine femininity that has always been inside of me and feel it dance alongside my evolving masculinity. I now accept help and freely ask for it when I am triggered (this can’t be stressed enough!) I also resist the urge to feel entitled to people's’ bodies, time, and space; men can always do better in this regard. Boundaries are key to living a feminist life. Along with domestic violence trauma, I grew up as a rural femme queer child with no LGBTQ role models to look up to and I felt extremely ostracized. I felt isolated from other boys because of extreme childhood bullying and always trusted girls and women easier. This gender dynamic dovetails into my present adulthood life: I have to fight identity-based shame every single day. I have to remind myself that there's nothing wrong with me, that I am worthy simply by existing. That my femininity is a gift from God. That my queerness makes me who I am and that I am proud. I remind myself everyday that I am proud to be who I am. I carve happiness out of trauma and deep pain because I deserve love and smiles, just like everyone on Earth. Bullying can spark severe trust issues in adults; assuming good intentions and good will can be extremely difficult for harshly bullied youth like me. It can engender extreme paranoia with multiple triggers of childhood bullying that affect people well into their adulthoods. For me, I have a strong sense of justice because of my extreme bullying. I don't want anyone else to go through that again. No one should. I want to trust men and create fulfilling relationships with them but my trust issues with boys stemming from my childhood bullying restricts my ability sometimes. It's an everyday struggle. But I will never give up. This is why I take back my life through my story. My story is my truth. My story is also the story of countless other LGBTQ kids in rural towns struggling to locate their identities, locate their allies, locate their safe support systems. To conclude on a positive note, I am so grateful for my sisters and my community. Y’all are helping me take back my life. Thank you, Vanesa and Sandra. We are the Power of Three. You two are the reason I got through high school. Thank you my high school friends, to my badass all-girls volleyball team. You know who you are. Thank you to my bestest of friends. Thank you, Mom. And yes, thank you Dad. My healing centers forgiveness and I must forgive in order to move on. I take back the night through forgiving myself. I attached a poem of mine from my blog queerasaverb.wordpress.com: I read somewhere once that almost anywhere inside, a spider is at least six feet away from you at all times. We know they’re there, tucked in the walls, hiding. But when they reveal themselves and perch on our windows and bathroom floors, we scream, run away, and stomp them to death. Spiders actually do more good in households than harm, killing our unwanted pests. Why do we let irrational fear control us? Trauma is every spider on earth. Ubiquitous. Hidden in the shadows. Waiting to be visible but feared or murdered when it shows its hairy body. Even if we don’t want to acknowledge it, it’s always there. Always The Clothesline Project was started by a group of women in Cape Cod, MA in the summer of 1990. They organized around one statistic that was released by the Men’s Rape Prevention Project that found that 58,000 soldiers died in the Vietnam War and 51,000 women were murdered by their significant others in the same time. One of the organizers, visual artist Rachel Carey-Harper, modeled her project off the power of the AIDS quilt project, suggested using clothesline and shirts as a way for women to tell their stories. The Clothesline Project allows survivors of domestic violence to “air their dirty laundry.” Survivors will decorate T shirts to tell their stories, either with artwork or words, and hang it on a clothesline. It shows that other people suffering are not alone and that domestic violence is not a private issue but a public health issue. The Clothesline Project gives people a way to share their experiences; to start telling their story and to heal. It starts dialogues. It shows that the people who experience domestic, sexual, or emotional violence aren’t just statistics but people in our communities and neighborhoods. The Clothesline Project started with 31 shirts on the village green in Hyannis, Massachusetts and has since grown to an estimated 500-600 Clothesline Projects internationally and 50,000-60,000 shirts. The Clothesline Project will be on display during the Take Back The Night rally on Friday, April 28th from 7-9pm on the Commons. As part of this year's theme "Healing Through Storytelling," below is the account of a Collective member sharing why she Takes Back The Night. If you'd like to answer Susanna's call to listen and speak out, please join us on April 28th. If you'd like to share your story and be featured in a blog post, please email us at [email protected]. I wasn’t one to say 'no, why did they?' I am 48 years old, and this is the first time I've been involved with Take Back the Night. Why now, you might ask, as I have. What's changed? Of course, I've been aware of sexual assault and domestic violence, ever since asking my mother what happened to Mary on All My Children, back when we called it "Mommy's cartoon." As a child I watched After-School Specials and crime dramas, and I read issue-driven young adult novels. Eventually I heard stories about classmates and acquaintances, in hushed tones, often accompanied be nervous, barely-suppressed laughter and speculations about the victim's participation: the woman who danced naked on a table, then never returned to college; the woman who "entertained" multiple men in her dorm room and then was ostracized; the woman who passed out and then awoke to being penetrated -- at least that's the story she told. Somehow, as a woman, I had become complicit in the culture that blames the victim of sexual violence. I had learned to question the stories, in part because I questioned my own role in the relatively minor experiences I had had with unwanted sexual advances. My body did not always feel like it was my own. My mind often did not feel like my own. I had learned to question everything, but most notably, to question myself. I did not feel in control of my public persona, my reputation, my role in society. I was a blank slate to be written upon by the actions of others. I did not feel capable of saying no, and when I did, I later questioned whether I really meant it. As a result, I felt distanced from other women. I felt that we were at war, that they were always telling me how I should be and that men were telling me something else. I was caught in the middle. The problem was, I individualized my experience: I wasn’t afraid to walk alone, at night, why should they be? I wasn’t a cold fish, why were they? I wasn’t one to say no, why did they?
Like many people, I wasn’t motivated to change this perspective until it became personal, which, ironically, also made me see things from a social/cultural perspective, and my own role in perpetuating the myth that the victim is to blame. It made me question the overly simplistic dichotomy of man/woman and aggressor/victim. It was the intertwining of the individual and the institutional that struck me so boldly, finally, in the head and in the heart. A child is neglected by parents without resources, who are hobbled by mental illness, poverty, and addiction, and a predator steps in to fill the gaps. The child is not heard, not believed, is blamed for his bad behavior and sent to detention centers, where he is further abused and made to feel invisible. As he grows into a man, family and teachers enlist the aid of the authorities, and they further mold him into an outsider, a renegade, a broken person, and they blame him. He makes many poor decisions; he learned, in being a tool for the desires of someone else, that his perceptions could not be relied upon, and he finds the everyday dizzying. He lashes out in violence; he has learned that violence gets results. He drinks to excess, over and over again; he has learned the value of blackouts and forgetting. He tries, over and over again, to end his life; he has learned that reality is unbearable. In that narrative, that story that is more common than any of us like to think, lies the inter-connectedness of all of us. These are our institutions, our safety nets, our values, that have failed this child. We are, as a society, implicated in the perpetuation of systems that allow some people to be less visible, less important, less human. And these failures are toxic for all of us, not just for the survivors of such violence. The implications are often life long, in the form of PTSD, depression, anxiety disorders, and behavioral issues. Loved ones also suffer, feeling the brunt of the frustration and confusion that sexual violence can cause. Sometimes, for survivors, surviving is all they can manage, and potential is squashed. What if all those survivors could contribute, fully, to our society? They can, and if I have my way, they will. A first step is to listen and to not turn away; to resist blaming, but instead to take responsibility, as individuals and as a society. Language matters. Common decency matters. Mutual respect matters. Sexual violence crosses all boundaries of gender, age, class, and race. It is about the misuse of power. All of us who can speak out, must. We need to stand together to create a world where personal boundaries are respected, where people feel valued, where no means no; where we feel free to say no, and know we will be heard. We must create a world where all of us are seen in our glory and in our imperfection. We need to take back the night. This year’s Take Back The Night theme is Healing Through Storytelling. We chose this theme after a couple weeks of discussion on what we really wanted to focus on and what TBTN meant to us. Through the Collective meetings, we agreed that it was important for us to highlight the process of healing. Not everyone’s process is the same, but TBTN is about creating a community of support and beginning healing through sharing our stories. In light of this year’s theme, I’m extending an open invitation to share your story with us through guest writing a blog post, anonymously sharing your story for the TBTN speak out, or sharing a message with survivors. If you are interested, please contact me at [email protected]. Storytelling is a common tradition to many different cultures and societies that goes back millennia. Storytelling, through oral tradition, predates written history. It’s shown through cave or rock art, pottery painting, fairy tales, books, movies, and more. Humans have used stories to share history, personal narratives, to preserve culture, and instill moral or ethical values. We use stories to connect with each other, to share experiences, and to teach. In fact, one of the roots of TBTN is consciousness raising groups. Consciousness raising is a form of activism that was popular in the United States in the 60s as a way to find common experiences and raise awareness of issues. Domestic violence and sexual assault activism grew out of groups of women who would meet and share what was going on in their lives. These groups aimed to find the causes of oppression of women and to understand what was going on in women’s lives. Consciousness raising groups became tools for organizing. Through sharing experiences, many women found that they were not alone. They shared their experiences with domestic violence, sexual assault, what expectations and roles they were expected to fit, and how they didn’t fit. These consciousness raising groups directly challenged that women’s issues were personal issues. They challenged the idea that domestic violence was a private problem. These groups popularized the theory that personal problems are political problems; and popularized the phrase “the personal is political.” These meetings pushed the theory that the only solution to domestic violence and women’s oppression is collective action. Not only is storytelling a form of political action, it is also a way to heal. Many survivors of trauma use storytelling as a way to make sense of their experiences. Storytelling is often the first step in trying to heal. A survivor of trauma may find telling their story is a way to process. It’s a way to figure out why and to connect with other survivors. Telling and sharing stories are ways to heal. For example, the popular series Chicken Soup for the Soul is based in the idea that sharing stories is a way to change the world. Storytelling is important. It’s the first step in healing from trauma and violence and things that are incredibly hard to process. And it’s the first step to political action. With our stories we can help ourselves, help each other, and help the world. If you’d like to share your story on this blog, please contact me at [email protected]. My name is Katie. I’m this year’s Take Back The Night Intern. I decided that I needed to be an activist when I first read Sojourner Truth’s Ain’t I A Woman speech in 11th grade history. Also what happened when I was in high school: SlutWalks came to the US, politicians debate on “legitimate rape,” Beyonce releases a song that features a section of a Ted Talk by Chimanda Ngozi Adichie, 238 trans people were murdered worldwide in 2013. This is my third year helping with TBTN. It’s my first year helping at Ithaca, but I’ve been helping organize and lead TBTN at Wells College too. Why do I Take Back The Night? Because every 98 seconds, someone in the US is sexually assaulted. Because 94% of women experience post traumatic stress disorder symptoms (PTSD) in two weeks after the assault. Because 1 in 3 women and 1 in 4 men have been victims of physical violence by an intimate partner in their lifetime. I Take Back The Night because I want to stand up for what’s right, to recognize the hurting in my community, and to say that the status quo is not okay. Take Back The Night is an annual event held across the world to speak out against the violence that women faced while walking at night. TBTN has evolved since the first march in 1973, to include all victims of sexual violence and intimate partner violence. TBTN has been organized in Tompkins County since 1979, making this year the 38th. Our event makes a conscious effort to include men in the rally to acknowledge them as allies and as victims. I Take Back The Night because I believe that our community shouldn’t accept unsafe streets, sexual assault, domestic violence, rape, or child sexual abuse. I Take Back The Night because I believe in safe spaces, speaking out, and standing together. I Take Back The Night because “we have the power/ we have the right/ the streets are ours/ Take Back The Night.” This year, the Ithaca TBTN them will be “Healing Through Storytelling.” TBTN will begin April 28 at 6pm on the Ithaca Commons. If you’d like to get involved in planning or would like to know what more you can do, please email me at [email protected]. I’ll be posting more blog posts every week. You’ll be able to read more about my journey through my experience as the Take Back The Night intern and current events. Please, be in touch if you have any ideas or would like me to address something. As my first time attending Take Back the Night, the event was particularly special and inspirational. The event took a lot of planning, but when it all came together on Friday; it was a truly beautiful night. As many attendees know arm bands are given out when the marches converge in Dewitt Park. Blue arm bands mean supporter, purple means survivor and orange identifies advocates. For me, this was the most powerful part of TBTN. For many individuals wearing the purple arm band might have been the first time they were identifying as a survivor, which for many was a very empowering and important experience. For supporters, the same was true. Some even choose to wear both blue and purple to identify as a survivor and supporter. We had so many individuals choose to identify as supporters that we ran out of blue arm bands! Being able to see the number of individuals who identified as survivors and supporters illustrated the great support system of TBTN, really getting down to the root of our event’s theme of Justice and Advocacy. Seeing how many survivors and supporters that attended really opened up and broke down the barriers of stereotypes of what a “survivor” or a “supporter” looks like. We all know that sexual assault can happen to anyone, but unfortunately our society still holds giant stereotypes which put individuals into boxes. Even further on the topic of breaking stereotypes, was the diversity of our event. Traditionally, society identifies sexual violence with female survivors, but during this event all these walls were broken down and the truth of sexual violence was exposed—truly anyone of any sex, ethnicity, nationality, age, sexual orientation, etc. can be a survivor of sexual violence.
Speak outs included speeches from males, LGBTQ individuals, women and men from different backgrounds and ethnicities. Our speakers included representatives from the Avon Global Center at Cornell, representing different countries around the world, as well as a male representative from the faith community. I was genuinely impressed by the diversity of this year’s event and I hope that it continues long into the future. What was your favorite experience from this year’s event? Part of Take Back the Night is the great groups and individuals involved! Each individual and group often has a unique reason for participating in the event and what the event means to them. A group that has been very involved this year in the collective and Take Back the Night is the Cornell and Ithaca Catholic Community. I sat down with Dave Holmes, Campus Minister at Ithaca College, to discuss their participation in the event and in the collective. How did you become involved with TBTN? Social justice is a very important aspect of faith. Through becoming involved with TBTN we hope to bring attention to a topic—Domestic and Sexual Abuse, that is often ignored or brushed under the rug. We hope to help bring education, prevention and support to our community! How does the Catholic Community and/or the Interfaith Community act as a support system for survivors? We like to think of the religious community on campus as a support system for everyone. As a community we like to support each other and think of one another as a “family away from family.” This week in mass we are announcing our involvement in Take Back the Night. We are hoping that this may inspire those who need support to come to us if they need help currently or in the future. We also run a Men’s Retreat which focuses on what it means to be a “man” in today’s society and the issues surrounding violence. We hope to bring up the issues of domestic and sexual abuse in future retreats because these issues are not women’s issues, they are everyone’s issues. As you know, this year’s TBTN theme is Justice and Advocacy. What does Justice mean to you and your community?
From the Catholic Church Perspective, justice often means forgiveness. If you are a survivor, forgiveness to yourself, you are not to be blamed for your experience. If you are a supporter, perhaps forgiveness to yourself if you feel like you did not do all you could to help the survivor. Justice to us also means protecting those who need help supporting and protecting themselves. In a past blog we touched upon “What happens When Sexual Assault Happens to Someone You Love?” Dealing with a loved one who experiences trauma can often be traumatic in itself. Often we concentrate on the emotions and mental health of the survivor, but what about the supporters too? Don’t they need to be emotionally and mentally healthy if we want them to help survivors and lead their own healthy and successful lives? If you are a supporter or caregiver have you ever felt any of the following?
If so, you may be experiencing a common response to Trauma Exposure--sometimes called secondary trauma or compassion fatigue. Although very common and normal, this response may be very difficult to continue caregiving to others as well as taking care of yourself. But, there are ways that can help. So how do we take the steps to self-care? First we must reflect on our intentions continuously and through our reflections, we can make steps towards changing. To start ask yourself these questions based on the five directions:
If you need any support or have any questions you can also always call the Advocacy Center Hotline 24 hours a day, 7 days a week at (607) 277-5000.
These ideas are further explored in the book Trauma Stewardship: An Everyday Guide to Caring for Self While Caring for Others by Laura van Dernoot Lipsky with Connie Burk. This is a fast and easy read but extremely helpful and reflective. I highly recommend this book if you have experienced or may experience any of these struggles. After a sexual assault, you may feel overwhelmed, scared, and don’t know where to turn next. One of the first steps you might want to consider is medical attention. This can appear in many different forms, but they all have one thing in common: peace of mind that your body is physically OKAY and that they can take care of any injuries that may have happened. Your health center, private practice doctor, Planned Parenthood, and the free clinic are all great options to help you start your process of healing through physical examinations. But did you know about another option specific to sexual assault called SANE? What is SANE? Sexual l Assault Nurse Examiners are Certified Nurses that specialize in examinations for those who have experienced sexual assault or rape. They will be able to help with medical, legal, and emotional needs by thoroughly examining the body and collecting medical forensic evidence, as well as recording your personal experience. Why?
When? If possible, directly after the assault DO NOT:
If you have done some of these are or all of these or If it has been some time since the assault, SANE is still there to help and you can still collect evidence and get support and care! Where? Emergency Rooms in Hospitals, including our local Cayuga Medical Center SANE Program. Resources: DNA & Crime Victims: What Victims Need to Know. The National Center for Victims of Crime. 2008. http://www.ncvc.org/ncvc/main.aspx?dbID=DB_DNAResourceCenter240
Your best friend, your sister, your co-worker, your partner, someone you love just told you they were sexually assaulted. It doesn’t matter if it just happened today or if it happened years ago. You may feel: Overwhelmed. Shocked. Confused. Scared. Numb. Disbelief. Denial. Emotionally Detached/Drained. Uncontrolled. Anxious. Angry. You’re not sure what to do next. What are you supposed to say? Are you supposed to call the police? You don’t want to hurt them but you also want to get them help. But Hold Up, Stop.
The Advocacy Center is also here to help you. Call the Advocacy Center hotline at (607)-277-5000 where on-call advocates and counselors will be able to get you and your loved ones the help they need.Lastly, if you are interested in learning more about sexual assault and how you can be a survivor supporter, look into some of these great resources: As you may see from the resources there are many additional ways to help. With so many different aspects, where do we start first? There is the medical aspect; there is the legal aspect, and the emotional and mental aspect. Over the next few blogs we’ll be highlighting some of these aspects, so you can have the tools to help you and your loved ones.
As a collective, we have decided on this year's TBTN theme to be "Justice and Advocacy."When brought up to others, what is Justice to them? Most often justice is the idea of criminal justice. But, Justice can mean much more than that. For each survivor, for each supporter, for each ally, justice has a different meaning. Justice does include criminal justice, but it doesn't just stop there. Justice is self-defined and continuously changing and developing. At our last collective meeting, we brought up what Justice means to collective members, illustrating the diversity and variety in responses. Here are a few of their responses: Justice is receiving support from family, from friends, from peers, from the community. Justice is that others will believe their story and stop questioning its validity. Justice is giving support as family, friend, peer, or community member. Justice is transformative. Justice is restorative. Justice is awareness. Justice is accepting. Justice is helping. Justice is action. But what exactly is "Justice?" |
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