“I've had trouble coming to terms with what to call my experience. It wasn't some huge event and I think it's deep in the grey area of what's considered "not okay". It took me a long time to even consider this more than a drunken night of dancing with a stranger. As the "me too" stories began to come out I began to realize what happened that night wasn't just some guy who misinterpreted my signals. His decision to shame me for not appreciating his actions was unacceptable. It wasn't my fault, and it took me a really long time to realize this.”
“I considered him one of my closest friends at the beginning of college. After returning to school second semester freshman year entirely clueless, a friend casually asked about how I had been with this guy. With no idea what he was talking about he continued to say that the guy had told him and all of our mutual friends we had sex just before winter break, with excruciating detail that makes me wince to this day. I didn't understand why he would claim that and was determined to confront him and get an explanation for telling such a disgusting, hurtful lie. When I did talk to him he claimed it was all true and that he thought I remembered. I was left speechless and shattered. I had absolutely no memory of ever being with him and kept thinking he must be lying. I was drinking with him the night he said it happened. We went back to his room to talk about some issues in our friend group. I never considered anything would happen between us or that I was in any danger. But this is where our stories don't match. My friend who originally asked me about it also told me of how the guy bragged about being with me and showed him the used condom in the trash the next day.
I wanted to scream and cry. I just couldn't understand. I cut ties with the guy and all of our friends from that semester. They all spread gossip about me and no one would have believed me even if I tried to say it didn't happen. He tried to contact me after our talk through a friend, saying he could tell people it wasn't true to make me feel better—he was afraid I would report him. I wish I had. In the end, it's utterly terrifying to not know for certain what happened to me.
After several months of silence, I decided to try and move forward and resolve things so I'd have some peace of mind when I inevitably saw him around campus. When I asked, “Is it possible that you raped me?”, his response still haunts me. "Yes". This was the last time I ever talked to him, and ever will. This was a guy who said he would be there for me. He was my friend. He's a monster.”
19, 2021, Bouvé
I wanted to scream and cry. I just couldn't understand. I cut ties with the guy and all of our friends from that semester. They all spread gossip about me and no one would have believed me even if I tried to say it didn't happen. He tried to contact me after our talk through a friend, saying he could tell people it wasn't true to make me feel better—he was afraid I would report him. I wish I had. In the end, it's utterly terrifying to not know for certain what happened to me.
After several months of silence, I decided to try and move forward and resolve things so I'd have some peace of mind when I inevitably saw him around campus. When I asked, “Is it possible that you raped me?”, his response still haunts me. "Yes". This was the last time I ever talked to him, and ever will. This was a guy who said he would be there for me. He was my friend. He's a monster.”
19, 2021, Bouvé
“He sexually assaulted me after following me into my dorm room when he forced the proctor to sign him in.
He later got suspended for only one semester after an OSCCR hearing.
When I asked why he was only suspended for ONE semester, the people at OSCCR told me it was for “good behavior”--because he’d followed the No Contact Order for so long.
Are you fucking kidding me? I WAS STALKED, SEXUALLY HARASSED, AND SEXUALLY ASSAULTED BY THIS GUY, and he was suspended for ONE SEMESTER? I’m still upset and angry.
And you know what makes it worse? His co-op company kept him on throughout 2 months of that suspension. Northeastern never proved that they even sent a letter notifying the company that he was suspended.”
He later got suspended for only one semester after an OSCCR hearing.
When I asked why he was only suspended for ONE semester, the people at OSCCR told me it was for “good behavior”--because he’d followed the No Contact Order for so long.
Are you fucking kidding me? I WAS STALKED, SEXUALLY HARASSED, AND SEXUALLY ASSAULTED BY THIS GUY, and he was suspended for ONE SEMESTER? I’m still upset and angry.
And you know what makes it worse? His co-op company kept him on throughout 2 months of that suspension. Northeastern never proved that they even sent a letter notifying the company that he was suspended.”
“We were on Dialogue together. He didn't go to Northeastern. He was an ROTC student invited on the trip from another school. I wasn't attracted to him, but I was bored and thought flirting could be fun. We went on one date, to the movies, and I kissed him once afterwards before getting in a taxi back to my host family's house.
At the end of the dialogue, the entire group went on a 4 day tourist trip. We ended up in a hotel that we weren't allowed to leave one night. We were allowed to drink inside and someone started a party in the lobby area. I got drunk and was flirting in earnest, even though I didn't really want anything sexual from him.
I found myself out on a balcony sharing a cigarette from another classmate on the trip. When it was done, they left and he came outside, trying to kiss me. I went up to the second floor of the balcony and tried to brush it all off by looking out over the city. We were on the roof of the party below and hotel windows overlooked the railing where we were standing.
He began to kiss me and it got heated. When he made to put his hand down my jeans, I said no. He tried again and again to wedge his fat hands into my jeans which were tightly held up by my belt. He pressed his heavy body against mine and pinned me to the railing. I couldn't get out. I couldn't push him off. I gave him 10 seconds. I counted down, out loud, from 10 as he jammed his fingers forcefully inside me. His wrist was awkwardly twisted around my belt that I refused to remove. Over his shoulder, I could see the hotel rooms where my classmates were staying. The next day I would be teased for hooking up with him. Two of my friends on the trip had seen him press me against the railing. Had seen us kiss. No one knew that when those 10 seconds were up I forced his body off me and ran straight to my room.
For 4 years I have thought to myself that because I went on a date, because I flirted, because I was drunk, that this wasn't sexual assault. I was 19. I had just finished my freshman year. I was a virgin. Those 10 seconds have haunted me my entire time at Northeastern.”
At the end of the dialogue, the entire group went on a 4 day tourist trip. We ended up in a hotel that we weren't allowed to leave one night. We were allowed to drink inside and someone started a party in the lobby area. I got drunk and was flirting in earnest, even though I didn't really want anything sexual from him.
I found myself out on a balcony sharing a cigarette from another classmate on the trip. When it was done, they left and he came outside, trying to kiss me. I went up to the second floor of the balcony and tried to brush it all off by looking out over the city. We were on the roof of the party below and hotel windows overlooked the railing where we were standing.
He began to kiss me and it got heated. When he made to put his hand down my jeans, I said no. He tried again and again to wedge his fat hands into my jeans which were tightly held up by my belt. He pressed his heavy body against mine and pinned me to the railing. I couldn't get out. I couldn't push him off. I gave him 10 seconds. I counted down, out loud, from 10 as he jammed his fingers forcefully inside me. His wrist was awkwardly twisted around my belt that I refused to remove. Over his shoulder, I could see the hotel rooms where my classmates were staying. The next day I would be teased for hooking up with him. Two of my friends on the trip had seen him press me against the railing. Had seen us kiss. No one knew that when those 10 seconds were up I forced his body off me and ran straight to my room.
For 4 years I have thought to myself that because I went on a date, because I flirted, because I was drunk, that this wasn't sexual assault. I was 19. I had just finished my freshman year. I was a virgin. Those 10 seconds have haunted me my entire time at Northeastern.”
“I never thought it would happen to me. I had been brutally harassed ever since high school but never thought much of it. But then I was attacked when I was walking home and I've never been the same since.”
"He was one of the first people I met at Northeastern. I met him through some friends that I made at orientation and our group stayed in touch over the summer and throughout freshman year. He was my friend and I trusted him.
About halfway through freshman year him, one of my friends, and I hung out in his dorm and took turns taking shots of vodka and tequila. We were having a good time but we all drank too much and my friend ended up leaving. I don't remember why I stayed, maybe he asked me to or maybe I was just too drunk to notice that my other friend had left. He started kissing me and I felt sick and dirty feeling his hands on me. I had a long distance boyfriend from home and he knew that. I only thought of him as a friend and he took advantage of my obvious intoxication. By the time he asked me if I wanted to have sex I was already half naked in his bed. Even though I didn't want to I still said yes because it had gone far enough already, his hands had already been all over me, and I don't know I think I just froze. I was too dizzy to even sit up straight in his bed by myself but we somehow managed to have sex. I don't remember getting dressed after but I remember bumping into the walls in the hallway while trying so hard to concentrate on walking in a straight line to not draw attention to myself. I remember crying on my walk home and feeling disgusted in myself.
I blocked him on all social media and deleted his number. He tried reaching out to me a few times, confused as to why I had distanced myself from him. Almost a year later I saw him standing outside the building that we both randomly ended up living in. He watched me walk away and immediately texted me, after having not spoken in months, asking if I wanted to "netflix and chill". I spent hours sitting by the reflecting pool crying because he said that. He said that as if what had happened between us was just a casual hookup. I can't even comprehend why he thought it was okay to say that to me. I told him that I was not comfortable with what had happened between us and that I didn't want anything to do with him.
I never told anyone what happened because I felt guilty and ashamed. I was drunk and I didn't want to get in trouble. I was in a relationship and I didn't want people to judge me. I don't know if I can blame him because he was just as drunk as I was. And the worst part is I don't know if it's even justifiable that I'm upset about it because ultimately, I did say yes to him. But the thought of his hands on me makes me feel as violated as I did that night when I walked home crying alone in the cold."
About halfway through freshman year him, one of my friends, and I hung out in his dorm and took turns taking shots of vodka and tequila. We were having a good time but we all drank too much and my friend ended up leaving. I don't remember why I stayed, maybe he asked me to or maybe I was just too drunk to notice that my other friend had left. He started kissing me and I felt sick and dirty feeling his hands on me. I had a long distance boyfriend from home and he knew that. I only thought of him as a friend and he took advantage of my obvious intoxication. By the time he asked me if I wanted to have sex I was already half naked in his bed. Even though I didn't want to I still said yes because it had gone far enough already, his hands had already been all over me, and I don't know I think I just froze. I was too dizzy to even sit up straight in his bed by myself but we somehow managed to have sex. I don't remember getting dressed after but I remember bumping into the walls in the hallway while trying so hard to concentrate on walking in a straight line to not draw attention to myself. I remember crying on my walk home and feeling disgusted in myself.
I blocked him on all social media and deleted his number. He tried reaching out to me a few times, confused as to why I had distanced myself from him. Almost a year later I saw him standing outside the building that we both randomly ended up living in. He watched me walk away and immediately texted me, after having not spoken in months, asking if I wanted to "netflix and chill". I spent hours sitting by the reflecting pool crying because he said that. He said that as if what had happened between us was just a casual hookup. I can't even comprehend why he thought it was okay to say that to me. I told him that I was not comfortable with what had happened between us and that I didn't want anything to do with him.
I never told anyone what happened because I felt guilty and ashamed. I was drunk and I didn't want to get in trouble. I was in a relationship and I didn't want people to judge me. I don't know if I can blame him because he was just as drunk as I was. And the worst part is I don't know if it's even justifiable that I'm upset about it because ultimately, I did say yes to him. But the thought of his hands on me makes me feel as violated as I did that night when I walked home crying alone in the cold."
"One night at the beginning of the semester, a few friends and I went to a party at another friend’s apartment. Everyone was drinking and having a good time; everything was fine. Until it wasn’t. It was late when I left the party and walked home with my best friend who lives in the same building. We were far from sober. On our way back, we ran into a friend of hers from an organization she’s involved in. I hadn’t ever met him so she introduced us and they stopped and talked for a bit, catching up after not having seen each other since the spring semester. He was super friendly and seemed like a really nice guy; everything was fine.
After a little while, my friend told him that we were pretty tired and should probably get back to our apartments. He was headed the same way so he walked with us down the street to our building. Once we were outside our building, he asked my friend if he could come up and use her bathroom really quickly. She had left a few things at my apartment and had to get them anyway, so I said he could just use my bathroom. I thought nothing of it; everything was fine.
We went up my apartment, he used the bathroom and my friend grabbed her things. She went up two floors to her apartment and I assumed he headed back downstairs and left. It wasn’t until she texted me the next day that I realized how wrong I was. Suddenly, everything wasn’t fine.
He had proceeded to tell her that he wanted to walk her upstairs and make sure she got in okay. He was well aware that she was fairly intoxicated. She assured him she was fine and it wasn’t necessary, but he insisted. She wasn’t going to invite him in but he ended up pushing her inside once she opened the door. He grabbed her and started trying to make out with her. She was caught off guard and immediately felt uncomfortable. She tried to stop him and eventually managed to push him off of her and out the door. She told me was scared of what she knew was going to happen if she hadn’t been able to get him to leave.
I will never stop feeling guilty for being too drunk and failing to realize that everything was not fine. I will never stop feeling guilty for assuming he had left and for letting her go up to her apartment alone. I will never stop feeling guilty for letting this happen to my best friend. And I know I would never be able to forgive myself if something worse had happened."
19, 2020, College of Science
After a little while, my friend told him that we were pretty tired and should probably get back to our apartments. He was headed the same way so he walked with us down the street to our building. Once we were outside our building, he asked my friend if he could come up and use her bathroom really quickly. She had left a few things at my apartment and had to get them anyway, so I said he could just use my bathroom. I thought nothing of it; everything was fine.
We went up my apartment, he used the bathroom and my friend grabbed her things. She went up two floors to her apartment and I assumed he headed back downstairs and left. It wasn’t until she texted me the next day that I realized how wrong I was. Suddenly, everything wasn’t fine.
He had proceeded to tell her that he wanted to walk her upstairs and make sure she got in okay. He was well aware that she was fairly intoxicated. She assured him she was fine and it wasn’t necessary, but he insisted. She wasn’t going to invite him in but he ended up pushing her inside once she opened the door. He grabbed her and started trying to make out with her. She was caught off guard and immediately felt uncomfortable. She tried to stop him and eventually managed to push him off of her and out the door. She told me was scared of what she knew was going to happen if she hadn’t been able to get him to leave.
I will never stop feeling guilty for being too drunk and failing to realize that everything was not fine. I will never stop feeling guilty for assuming he had left and for letting her go up to her apartment alone. I will never stop feeling guilty for letting this happen to my best friend. And I know I would never be able to forgive myself if something worse had happened."
19, 2020, College of Science
“Was I raped?
Everything I’ve been taught, everything I read, forced me to question the possibility of this statement for 3 years. My freshman year of college, I went to a fraternity party with my two closest friends. One of my friends was dating a guy who was pledging the fraternity and I went along even though I had no intentions of drinking that night. I am not suggesting that I am some gloriously perfect college kid who never drinks, but this particular night, I was not drinking. I was on medication that did not allow me to drink and although I may not always make perfect and healthy decisions, this is not one that I mess around with. If we’re painting a perfectly correct image, I believe I held a solo cup a majority of the night simply to avoid the constant questions about why I wasn’t drinking. Fast forward a few hours, the party is starting to wind down and the basement dance floor is far less crowded. My friend with the boyfriend has gone upstairs and my other friend has also disappeared. Within minutes, a guy I had danced with for some of the night, was aggressively making out with me, picked me up, and held me against the wall. I, having recently ended a serious relationship, and not a huge fan of major displays of PDA, pushed him off immediately and tried to make my way upstairs to leave. The house was a few stories and my friends were nowhere to be found on the main floor. I asked another one of the guys pledging the fraternity if he had seen my friend and her boyfriend. Now may also be a relevant time to mention that all the guys pledging the fraternity had to have green mustaches on their face, drawn with a marker. If you can’t guess why they had these on their faces, think harder (or wait until later in this story and it will become clear…). He told me that he had seen them go upstairs. He pointed me to the staircase. The upstairs still had a number of people from the fraternity and guests hanging around so I didn’t think much of him tagging along. After I failed to find my friend, he mentioned that they might be on the top floor. I said thank you and went on my way to see for myself. After getting about halfway up the staircase, I realized that he intended to come along. About ¾ up the way I heard a door close. When I got to the top, the staircase was dark and the three rooms were locked, dark, and clearly off limits. There was a small place to stand, no wider than 5ft by 5ft at the top of the stairs. Before I even had the chance to freak out, he was pushing me up against the wall and trying to take off my skirt (praise tights and the apparent difficulty and confusion they create for drunk boys). His hands were all over me and his tongue was desperately trying to find some satisfaction in my mouth. I started pushing him off of me and tried to walk back down the stairs. As I got to the first step, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back. At this point, not a single word had been exchanged. Then I heard someone yell his name from the floor below and tell him that pledges weren’t allowed upstairs. He was, at the same time, fumbling around to get his pants undone. I started repeating that people were looking for him, but he said it didn’t matter. I told him that I was going downstairs and he should too, but as I went to walk away, he grabbed my wrist again. This time he pulled harder and slid down the wall, pulling me down with him. He didn’t even use his words. He just simply pushed my head down to his now exposed genitals. I lifted up and repeated that I was leaving. People from downstairs yelled again. Again, he pushed my head down. I repeated my pleas for us both to go, that we were being called down, that we weren’t supposed to be upstairs. So, why didn’t I scream, why didn’t I push him and run down the stairs? That’s a question that I’ve been trying to answer for years. Was it because I was afraid of being labeled as the girl who freaked out and yelled rape? Was it because I didn’t want to be talked about and ousted by the fraternity? Was it because I was so shocked by his blatant disregard for my resistance that I didn’t know what to do? Was it because I was scared that he would hurt me? I’ve come to decide that it was probably a combination. A few more back and forth attempts, some banging from downstairs, and I gave in. At that point, I felt locked in. No one was coming to save me from downstairs, he was gripping me too tightly to leave without causing a massive scene, and I gave in. He grabbed my head and pushed it down, gripping my hair as he moaned. His other hand held the wrist he kept grabbing, tightly pinned to the floor. Could I have bitten him or punched him and sprinted off? Probably. But, I didn’t. The moment it was over, I sprinted down the stairs, my feet moving quickly and head down as I passed everyone on the floor below. Now that the party was pretty much over, most of the fraternity members and their close friends or girlfriends were all watching TV in the horribly, disgustingly, bright living room. Keeping my eyes trained on the floor, I walked as quickly as I could, having to pass in front of the TV to get to the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror and there was green all over my face (if you hadn’t figured it out before – here is a giant clue). My face was hot and red from embarrassment as I only made it worse, frantically trying to scrub off the green marker. I tried desperately not to cry. I found my friend, only to learn that our other friend was trapped in a bedroom with the ******* of the fraternity and texting us to help her get out. He kept asking her (that may be a light term as I’m fairly certain it was more forceful than a kind request) to sleep with him, which she had no interest in doing. We asked for help from some of the guys standing by us, my friend’s (now ex) boyfriend included, but the response was the same – we can’t, he’s the *******. We called her as she practically begged to leave the room and quickly left the party. While we had been standing there, a mere 2 feet from the bathroom I had just left and a mere 5 ft from the crowd watching TV, a girl from my Chinese class just stared at me. It was no secret that I’d been the girl running down the stairs and no secret that there was green all over my face. The only secret was that I hadn’t wanted any of it. I told my friends what had happened, trying to decide what to do. I kept thinking that it was my fault. That I had caused it because I didn’t scream or run. My friend’s boyfriend told me not to do anything about it. That it wasn’t that big of a deal because he hadn’t penetrated me. That it wasn’t like he’d violently forced entry without a condom. He told me that he’d talk to the guy. The next morning he did follow up on his word, but the guy didn’t remember. He remembered following me upstairs, but didn’t know what had happened. He didn’t know my name. All he remembered was my eyes. He remembered that I had very blue eyes. That’s it. My eyes.
That semester I was taking a computer science class – my largest class by far. But of course, although I had never noticed him before, that next week, he sat down right next to me at lab. He had no idea who I was. Every class for the rest of the semester, I had to see his face. I had to know that he had no idea who I was or what he had done to me. We were nearly made to be partners for a project, so I had to explain to my professor that I couldn’t be partners with him, but didn’t want to talk about why. I spent the entire semester thinking that one day I would pull him aside after class and tell him who I was. I thought that if I could just tell him what he’d done to me, then I’d feel better. I never did it.
For 2 years I was convinced that I had given consent because I hadn’t run. For 2 years, I was convinced that it was my fault. For 2 years, I had nightmares. I felt his hands on his wrist and hands pushing on my head. For 2 years I questioned my worth. Someone had taken advantage of me, pushed me and chided me into doing something I clearly didn’t want to do, and didn’t even remember. But most damaging of all, I questioned myself. I had always said that I would be the girl who would run, the girl who would scream, the girl who would take it to court. But when it actually happened, I did nothing. For 2 years, I questioned my entire identity. I had always been a strong, independent woman. I had always been the friend with good advice, the friend that supported others in handling these situations. But when it was time for me to support myself, I wasn’t there. I became depressed. I threw myself into way more activities than I could possibly manage to rediscover my sense of self worth. I was over-stressed trying to balance my life, simply falling apart so much that I couldn’t actually fall apart. I pushed people away and wondered why no one was interested in me, thinking that it was because I wasn’t beautiful enough or too over stressed all the time for anyone to love me. I developed an eating disorder. I barely slept. Was all of this attributed to this one instance? Probably not. It was a snowball effect. I’m a perfectionist and I wanted to be perfect in everything I was involved in both on and off campus. This obviously didn’t help.
So, why didn’t I go to the police? Why didn’t I do anything? I didn’t want to be known as the girl who cried rape. I wanted to be known on campus for my accomplishments. I wanted to be known for my involvement on club boards, my internships and co-ops, research, and off campus leadership experiences. I wanted to be known for something I had done, not something that someone had done to me.
Looking back, I always thought it was so much simpler. It’s not so black and white. I didn’t have the courage to fight for what I believed. At the time, I didn’t even know what I believed. I watched my friends take cases to the school and get completely shut down. I was my friend’s support person at OSCCR for her case and listened to her assaulter’s witnesses lie, tell conflicting stories, and change their stories. She was blamed. Even NUPD thought the OSCCR decision was ridiculous, but if she didn’t want to go to court, she couldn’t change it. I watched it happening on other campuses. I didn’t want that to be my life. I made up excuses for myself. He was drunk. Are you really going to ruin his life? He doesn’t even remember. You’re doing fine, you’re just stressed from school and extra-curriculars. The nightmares will go away. You’re getting personal help, so you don’t need to broadcast it to the world. You’re strong enough to do it on your own. He wouldn’t do it again. But, the reality is that I have no idea if he has done it again. I could have let something slide that has now hurt another woman. I have no idea if I made the right choice. It took me 2 years to even come to terms with the fact that what happened to me could be considered rape. I have finally come to accept what happened, but there are still moments when I remember that I have to live with this for the rest of my life and he has no idea about the baggage he left on my front step. There are still moments where I want to scream. When I finally told my mom, a year and a half later, she said that she has had to do the same. That many women have had to do the same. That sometimes it’s just easier to get it over with and get away. Of course, she said it’s completely wrong and of course she was crying for me, but this is a reality for many women (and men). This is not ok. When I hear the response to other peoples’ stories, I want to scream. It is so difficult to understand the pain that something can cause if you’ve never experienced it, but as a society, we need to make a better effort to try.
Was I raped? Some people would say yes, some would say no. The bottom line is that regardless of its classification, it hurt me. It hurt me for a long time and it will probably continue hurting me. Am I a perfectly successful and happy human being? Yes. Do I still have nightmares? Yes. People like to fight about what happened in these kinds of cases, but at the end of the day, I am the one that came out scarred. No one can feel that for me and no one can take it away.
(22, Class of 2018, D’Amore-McKim: Finance)”
Everything I’ve been taught, everything I read, forced me to question the possibility of this statement for 3 years. My freshman year of college, I went to a fraternity party with my two closest friends. One of my friends was dating a guy who was pledging the fraternity and I went along even though I had no intentions of drinking that night. I am not suggesting that I am some gloriously perfect college kid who never drinks, but this particular night, I was not drinking. I was on medication that did not allow me to drink and although I may not always make perfect and healthy decisions, this is not one that I mess around with. If we’re painting a perfectly correct image, I believe I held a solo cup a majority of the night simply to avoid the constant questions about why I wasn’t drinking. Fast forward a few hours, the party is starting to wind down and the basement dance floor is far less crowded. My friend with the boyfriend has gone upstairs and my other friend has also disappeared. Within minutes, a guy I had danced with for some of the night, was aggressively making out with me, picked me up, and held me against the wall. I, having recently ended a serious relationship, and not a huge fan of major displays of PDA, pushed him off immediately and tried to make my way upstairs to leave. The house was a few stories and my friends were nowhere to be found on the main floor. I asked another one of the guys pledging the fraternity if he had seen my friend and her boyfriend. Now may also be a relevant time to mention that all the guys pledging the fraternity had to have green mustaches on their face, drawn with a marker. If you can’t guess why they had these on their faces, think harder (or wait until later in this story and it will become clear…). He told me that he had seen them go upstairs. He pointed me to the staircase. The upstairs still had a number of people from the fraternity and guests hanging around so I didn’t think much of him tagging along. After I failed to find my friend, he mentioned that they might be on the top floor. I said thank you and went on my way to see for myself. After getting about halfway up the staircase, I realized that he intended to come along. About ¾ up the way I heard a door close. When I got to the top, the staircase was dark and the three rooms were locked, dark, and clearly off limits. There was a small place to stand, no wider than 5ft by 5ft at the top of the stairs. Before I even had the chance to freak out, he was pushing me up against the wall and trying to take off my skirt (praise tights and the apparent difficulty and confusion they create for drunk boys). His hands were all over me and his tongue was desperately trying to find some satisfaction in my mouth. I started pushing him off of me and tried to walk back down the stairs. As I got to the first step, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back. At this point, not a single word had been exchanged. Then I heard someone yell his name from the floor below and tell him that pledges weren’t allowed upstairs. He was, at the same time, fumbling around to get his pants undone. I started repeating that people were looking for him, but he said it didn’t matter. I told him that I was going downstairs and he should too, but as I went to walk away, he grabbed my wrist again. This time he pulled harder and slid down the wall, pulling me down with him. He didn’t even use his words. He just simply pushed my head down to his now exposed genitals. I lifted up and repeated that I was leaving. People from downstairs yelled again. Again, he pushed my head down. I repeated my pleas for us both to go, that we were being called down, that we weren’t supposed to be upstairs. So, why didn’t I scream, why didn’t I push him and run down the stairs? That’s a question that I’ve been trying to answer for years. Was it because I was afraid of being labeled as the girl who freaked out and yelled rape? Was it because I didn’t want to be talked about and ousted by the fraternity? Was it because I was so shocked by his blatant disregard for my resistance that I didn’t know what to do? Was it because I was scared that he would hurt me? I’ve come to decide that it was probably a combination. A few more back and forth attempts, some banging from downstairs, and I gave in. At that point, I felt locked in. No one was coming to save me from downstairs, he was gripping me too tightly to leave without causing a massive scene, and I gave in. He grabbed my head and pushed it down, gripping my hair as he moaned. His other hand held the wrist he kept grabbing, tightly pinned to the floor. Could I have bitten him or punched him and sprinted off? Probably. But, I didn’t. The moment it was over, I sprinted down the stairs, my feet moving quickly and head down as I passed everyone on the floor below. Now that the party was pretty much over, most of the fraternity members and their close friends or girlfriends were all watching TV in the horribly, disgustingly, bright living room. Keeping my eyes trained on the floor, I walked as quickly as I could, having to pass in front of the TV to get to the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror and there was green all over my face (if you hadn’t figured it out before – here is a giant clue). My face was hot and red from embarrassment as I only made it worse, frantically trying to scrub off the green marker. I tried desperately not to cry. I found my friend, only to learn that our other friend was trapped in a bedroom with the ******* of the fraternity and texting us to help her get out. He kept asking her (that may be a light term as I’m fairly certain it was more forceful than a kind request) to sleep with him, which she had no interest in doing. We asked for help from some of the guys standing by us, my friend’s (now ex) boyfriend included, but the response was the same – we can’t, he’s the *******. We called her as she practically begged to leave the room and quickly left the party. While we had been standing there, a mere 2 feet from the bathroom I had just left and a mere 5 ft from the crowd watching TV, a girl from my Chinese class just stared at me. It was no secret that I’d been the girl running down the stairs and no secret that there was green all over my face. The only secret was that I hadn’t wanted any of it. I told my friends what had happened, trying to decide what to do. I kept thinking that it was my fault. That I had caused it because I didn’t scream or run. My friend’s boyfriend told me not to do anything about it. That it wasn’t that big of a deal because he hadn’t penetrated me. That it wasn’t like he’d violently forced entry without a condom. He told me that he’d talk to the guy. The next morning he did follow up on his word, but the guy didn’t remember. He remembered following me upstairs, but didn’t know what had happened. He didn’t know my name. All he remembered was my eyes. He remembered that I had very blue eyes. That’s it. My eyes.
That semester I was taking a computer science class – my largest class by far. But of course, although I had never noticed him before, that next week, he sat down right next to me at lab. He had no idea who I was. Every class for the rest of the semester, I had to see his face. I had to know that he had no idea who I was or what he had done to me. We were nearly made to be partners for a project, so I had to explain to my professor that I couldn’t be partners with him, but didn’t want to talk about why. I spent the entire semester thinking that one day I would pull him aside after class and tell him who I was. I thought that if I could just tell him what he’d done to me, then I’d feel better. I never did it.
For 2 years I was convinced that I had given consent because I hadn’t run. For 2 years, I was convinced that it was my fault. For 2 years, I had nightmares. I felt his hands on his wrist and hands pushing on my head. For 2 years I questioned my worth. Someone had taken advantage of me, pushed me and chided me into doing something I clearly didn’t want to do, and didn’t even remember. But most damaging of all, I questioned myself. I had always said that I would be the girl who would run, the girl who would scream, the girl who would take it to court. But when it actually happened, I did nothing. For 2 years, I questioned my entire identity. I had always been a strong, independent woman. I had always been the friend with good advice, the friend that supported others in handling these situations. But when it was time for me to support myself, I wasn’t there. I became depressed. I threw myself into way more activities than I could possibly manage to rediscover my sense of self worth. I was over-stressed trying to balance my life, simply falling apart so much that I couldn’t actually fall apart. I pushed people away and wondered why no one was interested in me, thinking that it was because I wasn’t beautiful enough or too over stressed all the time for anyone to love me. I developed an eating disorder. I barely slept. Was all of this attributed to this one instance? Probably not. It was a snowball effect. I’m a perfectionist and I wanted to be perfect in everything I was involved in both on and off campus. This obviously didn’t help.
So, why didn’t I go to the police? Why didn’t I do anything? I didn’t want to be known as the girl who cried rape. I wanted to be known on campus for my accomplishments. I wanted to be known for my involvement on club boards, my internships and co-ops, research, and off campus leadership experiences. I wanted to be known for something I had done, not something that someone had done to me.
Looking back, I always thought it was so much simpler. It’s not so black and white. I didn’t have the courage to fight for what I believed. At the time, I didn’t even know what I believed. I watched my friends take cases to the school and get completely shut down. I was my friend’s support person at OSCCR for her case and listened to her assaulter’s witnesses lie, tell conflicting stories, and change their stories. She was blamed. Even NUPD thought the OSCCR decision was ridiculous, but if she didn’t want to go to court, she couldn’t change it. I watched it happening on other campuses. I didn’t want that to be my life. I made up excuses for myself. He was drunk. Are you really going to ruin his life? He doesn’t even remember. You’re doing fine, you’re just stressed from school and extra-curriculars. The nightmares will go away. You’re getting personal help, so you don’t need to broadcast it to the world. You’re strong enough to do it on your own. He wouldn’t do it again. But, the reality is that I have no idea if he has done it again. I could have let something slide that has now hurt another woman. I have no idea if I made the right choice. It took me 2 years to even come to terms with the fact that what happened to me could be considered rape. I have finally come to accept what happened, but there are still moments when I remember that I have to live with this for the rest of my life and he has no idea about the baggage he left on my front step. There are still moments where I want to scream. When I finally told my mom, a year and a half later, she said that she has had to do the same. That many women have had to do the same. That sometimes it’s just easier to get it over with and get away. Of course, she said it’s completely wrong and of course she was crying for me, but this is a reality for many women (and men). This is not ok. When I hear the response to other peoples’ stories, I want to scream. It is so difficult to understand the pain that something can cause if you’ve never experienced it, but as a society, we need to make a better effort to try.
Was I raped? Some people would say yes, some would say no. The bottom line is that regardless of its classification, it hurt me. It hurt me for a long time and it will probably continue hurting me. Am I a perfectly successful and happy human being? Yes. Do I still have nightmares? Yes. People like to fight about what happened in these kinds of cases, but at the end of the day, I am the one that came out scarred. No one can feel that for me and no one can take it away.
(22, Class of 2018, D’Amore-McKim: Finance)”
“I was not assaulted on campus, but a close friend was. For her privacy, I won't share the story of her assault.
I accompanied her to OSCR to talk to someone and report the assault. She didn't want to involve the police because she was afraid of being blamed or not believed. We thought it would be enough to ask for a No Contact order so she would feel safe at school. No notice of the order being confirmed ever came. No one ever followed up with her. Both of us felt completely abandoned by the very people who promote Title IX and safety on campus. I lost all hope that day.”
I accompanied her to OSCR to talk to someone and report the assault. She didn't want to involve the police because she was afraid of being blamed or not believed. We thought it would be enough to ask for a No Contact order so she would feel safe at school. No notice of the order being confirmed ever came. No one ever followed up with her. Both of us felt completely abandoned by the very people who promote Title IX and safety on campus. I lost all hope that day.”
A professor at Northeastern texted my friend from his personal phone number, after he looked up her information on Blackboard.
He was married with children and drunk texted her several times about how hot he thought she was, how he thought about her at night, and that he wanted to take her out to dinner.
She didn't say anything because she was his TA and he was writing her Grad School recommendations.
This was summer of 2016, she was 22
He was married with children and drunk texted her several times about how hot he thought she was, how he thought about her at night, and that he wanted to take her out to dinner.
She didn't say anything because she was his TA and he was writing her Grad School recommendations.
This was summer of 2016, she was 22
"My freshman year, I met someone on one of the quads. He was a year older and I was new to campus. So when he asked me to some party, I thought it was the coolest thing. I drank at the party, and he offered to walk me home. I was pretty drunk and couldn't really speak and I could barely stand. The rest of the night was hazy, but I woke up in an unknown dorm room, naked. I heard a shower running so I quickly got dressed and ran. I never looked back until I got home. I never reported it because I didn't want to admit it happened to me."
"I'm really torn whether or not to come forward with this.
I can't tell if what I'm experiencing is classic victim mentality or if nothing really happened.
My guilt comes from the fact that I did actually meet with this faculty member off campus with the intention of further developing a professional relationship.
I set very clear boundaries with this faculty member and despite my setting these boundaries, they repeatedly asked me to meet up again outside of the university, as well as making comments and asking questions that I found inappropriate for a professional relationship. This faculty member is also married.
I took no action through the university, though I did discuss my discomfort with my supervisor. I rarely interact with this faculty member now, and when I do it is professional, although always uncomfortable.
I've spoken to other former and current employees at the university and have found that this faculty member has also interacted in this manner with them."
I can't tell if what I'm experiencing is classic victim mentality or if nothing really happened.
My guilt comes from the fact that I did actually meet with this faculty member off campus with the intention of further developing a professional relationship.
I set very clear boundaries with this faculty member and despite my setting these boundaries, they repeatedly asked me to meet up again outside of the university, as well as making comments and asking questions that I found inappropriate for a professional relationship. This faculty member is also married.
I took no action through the university, though I did discuss my discomfort with my supervisor. I rarely interact with this faculty member now, and when I do it is professional, although always uncomfortable.
I've spoken to other former and current employees at the university and have found that this faculty member has also interacted in this manner with them."
"When I asked my professor for help in my computer science class, he told me I should try flirting with a classmate to get him to do the work for me."
“I was sexually assaulted by my then boyfriend twice over the course of 6 months. After we broke up, he scared me by showing up on a family vacation, so I tried to file an "internal police report" with the NUPD. After I provided them with the information, I was told they would be contacting him anyway. Since he was contacted and would know I told the police, I decided to attempt to press criminal charges (DA declined to prosecute) and sanction through the OSCCR office. The police did not perform what I would consider a thorough investigation. After the report was filed, the OSCCR office met with me. She had me sign paperwork- which signed my right away to participate as the complainant in the case. I later had a pro-bono attorney try to argue that I should be the complainant (as being the witness would have provided him with a significant advantage in the OSCCR process). It was difficult to get in touch with anyone in the OSCCR office, and I was given different answers every time I spoke with someone. Ultimately, the Respondent withdrew and transferred schools 48 hours before his scheduled disciplinary hearing. I was notified of this via email.
I have continued to meet with Northeastern officials to attempt to change the policies at Northeastern, including a meeting where I read a letter I wrote about my experience. The first meeting we had scheduled, I showed up for the meeting time we agreed upon and was told [the administrator] was "out of the country". We had the meeting over skype, where I discussed my experiences. I reached out again to speak with [the administrator] about the policies NEU had in place, and was told he was changing them (I have not seen change since). I feel strongly about policy change within the Northeastern community after my own experience, so I worked with End Rape On Campus to create a campaign and petition. Here is the link: http://endrapeoncampus.org/actionnownortheastern/."
I have continued to meet with Northeastern officials to attempt to change the policies at Northeastern, including a meeting where I read a letter I wrote about my experience. The first meeting we had scheduled, I showed up for the meeting time we agreed upon and was told [the administrator] was "out of the country". We had the meeting over skype, where I discussed my experiences. I reached out again to speak with [the administrator] about the policies NEU had in place, and was told he was changing them (I have not seen change since). I feel strongly about policy change within the Northeastern community after my own experience, so I worked with End Rape On Campus to create a campaign and petition. Here is the link: http://endrapeoncampus.org/actionnownortheastern/."
I don't go to Northeastern, but we have no platform of this sort at my school; I need to share my story.
I was a freshman at a Big Ten School, living the Big Ten dream being a Division 1 athlete. I thought I was invincible- good at sports, great friends, better grades, and exceptional character. I felt strong in every aspect of my life. However, you don't realize how weak you actually are until a football player is on top of you and you can't move.
That was the story of my freshman year. Weak. Yes, I was drunk. Yes, it was a bad night.
I constantly replay him trying to coerce me into sex when I clearly wasn't having it. But yes, he took control and made me.
Yes, I felt weak.
I rationalized this experience in my head and chalked it up to a bad night. However, I can't get over it. It follows me; it defines me and my relationships.
I told my close friends and they were supportive, but they acted like it was a right of passage- that every girl goes through this and it’s only a matter of time before it happens to you.
I am sick of living in a culture where sexual assault is considered another drunk Saturday night.
I try to act like this doesn't affect me, I even had sex with the guy again on my own terms to take back control. But. Control was taken from me in 2014, and I haven't been able to get it back since.
I let you know when I do regain it; hopefully soon.
I was a freshman at a Big Ten School, living the Big Ten dream being a Division 1 athlete. I thought I was invincible- good at sports, great friends, better grades, and exceptional character. I felt strong in every aspect of my life. However, you don't realize how weak you actually are until a football player is on top of you and you can't move.
That was the story of my freshman year. Weak. Yes, I was drunk. Yes, it was a bad night.
I constantly replay him trying to coerce me into sex when I clearly wasn't having it. But yes, he took control and made me.
Yes, I felt weak.
I rationalized this experience in my head and chalked it up to a bad night. However, I can't get over it. It follows me; it defines me and my relationships.
I told my close friends and they were supportive, but they acted like it was a right of passage- that every girl goes through this and it’s only a matter of time before it happens to you.
I am sick of living in a culture where sexual assault is considered another drunk Saturday night.
I try to act like this doesn't affect me, I even had sex with the guy again on my own terms to take back control. But. Control was taken from me in 2014, and I haven't been able to get it back since.
I let you know when I do regain it; hopefully soon.
“I initially reported it to my residence director and then ended up meeting with Title IX. This wasn’t originally my plan, but when I had pushed through so much to just to meet with my RD, it seemed like I had nothing else to lose. Little did I know, all of my free time for the next two weeks would be filled with endless levels of anxiety, many depressive slumbers, and quietly sitting in my room unable to go anywhere for the fear of seeing her. Yes, her.
I am a trans person, still exploring my gender identity. For this story to be true to my experience, I need you to know that I am trans-masculine and my assaulter is a female. Sexual assault happens to men too. Whether this had an effect on the way Title IX handled my scenario is up for debate, but I can assure you, they protected her more than they protected me.
I always present well. I am calm even if I want to scream; I am smiling and full of gratitude even if I want to cry and can see myself preparing to get screwed over.
When I went into the office to meet with the Title IX investigators, I’ll admit, my expectations were high. Why? Because they apparently made so many changes to the Title IX process that protected the parties involved. I was excited to see the new process in action.
When I began telling my story, I amazed myself with the level of comfort I felt. I talked about everything. I talked about the romance, and the comfort, and the care. I talked about the escalation, and the fear, and the shaking. I talked about the choking, and the marks left on my body afterwards. I described the incidents, and was asked, “was alcohol involved?”
“No”, I responded.
I understand that this might change the outcome of the situation and needed to be asked, however, nowhere in my story would it have made sense for alcohol to be involved. This was between classes, and in the hallways, and in my room – not at a bar, or a party. There wasn’t alcohol present ever. I was asked, “Did you say you were uncomfortable?”
“Yes,” I responded. I had described this many times in my story. I said “No”. I pushed away. I tried to leave. I said “No”.
I said “No”.
I shared everything except for her name – even though I was hurt, I was left feeling guilty for making the report. I wanted to make sure that the moves made would be productive. A no contact order was not enough because she was smart. She was bound to find a way to put me in a position where it would backfire on me.
I needed to know that I wouldn’t see her as often as I did. I needed to know that my space was safe, or, that a safe space existed.
At the end of the meeting, I was promised a resolution – a solution to my problem that I felt the most comfortable with. I finally gave her name, and they assured me the solution was possible.
They told me they would meet with her. They needed to run the solution by her, explain the no contact order, and get her all the help she needed so that this wouldn’t happen again……
All the help she needed.
The Title IX office needed the weekend to think about it all and ensure it would make sense. I was not notified of updates. I should have been notified that it was okay for me to go to certain areas on campus that weekend, knowing that she wouldn’t be there. I should have been notified that they met with her. I didn’t receive any of this information, so I spent the weekend in my room.
On Tuesday, I emailed, after not hearing from the investigators at all. They called me in for a meeting afterwards to discuss updates. It was here that I heard that they had met with her. It was here that I heard I should’ve been notified it was safe to go about my weekend normally – she would not bother me. It was here that I heard that they would not be able to keep that promise – they thought they could, but they couldn’t.
It was here that I learned not to trust Title IX. When they met with her, she gave them minute reasons as to why the decision wouldn’t be fair – she liked that place, she enjoyed those things, etc. They couldn’t keep their promise because of this.
The meeting ended with me crying – not because of sadness, but because of anger, and even more: disappointment.
Title IX failed me just like so many others. I am here to tell my story because for once, we need to be put first – not the assaulter. It doesn’t matter if she is going through a hard time, or cried when she met with the investigators, or if she needs help. I need help. We all need help. We all need to rally together.”
I am a trans person, still exploring my gender identity. For this story to be true to my experience, I need you to know that I am trans-masculine and my assaulter is a female. Sexual assault happens to men too. Whether this had an effect on the way Title IX handled my scenario is up for debate, but I can assure you, they protected her more than they protected me.
I always present well. I am calm even if I want to scream; I am smiling and full of gratitude even if I want to cry and can see myself preparing to get screwed over.
When I went into the office to meet with the Title IX investigators, I’ll admit, my expectations were high. Why? Because they apparently made so many changes to the Title IX process that protected the parties involved. I was excited to see the new process in action.
When I began telling my story, I amazed myself with the level of comfort I felt. I talked about everything. I talked about the romance, and the comfort, and the care. I talked about the escalation, and the fear, and the shaking. I talked about the choking, and the marks left on my body afterwards. I described the incidents, and was asked, “was alcohol involved?”
“No”, I responded.
I understand that this might change the outcome of the situation and needed to be asked, however, nowhere in my story would it have made sense for alcohol to be involved. This was between classes, and in the hallways, and in my room – not at a bar, or a party. There wasn’t alcohol present ever. I was asked, “Did you say you were uncomfortable?”
“Yes,” I responded. I had described this many times in my story. I said “No”. I pushed away. I tried to leave. I said “No”.
I said “No”.
I shared everything except for her name – even though I was hurt, I was left feeling guilty for making the report. I wanted to make sure that the moves made would be productive. A no contact order was not enough because she was smart. She was bound to find a way to put me in a position where it would backfire on me.
I needed to know that I wouldn’t see her as often as I did. I needed to know that my space was safe, or, that a safe space existed.
At the end of the meeting, I was promised a resolution – a solution to my problem that I felt the most comfortable with. I finally gave her name, and they assured me the solution was possible.
They told me they would meet with her. They needed to run the solution by her, explain the no contact order, and get her all the help she needed so that this wouldn’t happen again……
All the help she needed.
The Title IX office needed the weekend to think about it all and ensure it would make sense. I was not notified of updates. I should have been notified that it was okay for me to go to certain areas on campus that weekend, knowing that she wouldn’t be there. I should have been notified that they met with her. I didn’t receive any of this information, so I spent the weekend in my room.
On Tuesday, I emailed, after not hearing from the investigators at all. They called me in for a meeting afterwards to discuss updates. It was here that I heard that they had met with her. It was here that I heard I should’ve been notified it was safe to go about my weekend normally – she would not bother me. It was here that I heard that they would not be able to keep that promise – they thought they could, but they couldn’t.
It was here that I learned not to trust Title IX. When they met with her, she gave them minute reasons as to why the decision wouldn’t be fair – she liked that place, she enjoyed those things, etc. They couldn’t keep their promise because of this.
The meeting ended with me crying – not because of sadness, but because of anger, and even more: disappointment.
Title IX failed me just like so many others. I am here to tell my story because for once, we need to be put first – not the assaulter. It doesn’t matter if she is going through a hard time, or cried when she met with the investigators, or if she needs help. I need help. We all need help. We all need to rally together.”
“I had met him for the first time in person and things seemed to be going well. I was a little tense as I had met him online and we met up in a far off location alone. He threw me off when he gave me a small massage while we were lying in the park, but I asked him to stop and he did. A few weeks later after I established this was not going to be a romantic relationship, I met him again, and we started hanging out more. The third time we hung out he kissed me, and I backed away, I didn't want to kiss him. We met up again, this time at his place off campus, he lived alone. He then proceeded to rape me. I remember I was hiding tears as he tried to kiss me and I would move my head from side to side. I felt worthless. I didn't know who to even turn to in this situation. I didn't feel like I could go to Northeastern for this, could UHCS provide me testing? What department do I even report this to? The Police? The worthlessness turned into hopelessness, and I haven't shared this year-old story until now.”
(22, 2018, DMSB)
(22, 2018, DMSB)
The first time was freshman year. I had been hooking up with someone who lived in my building. We were friends; I felt safe with him. The first (and only) time we had vaginal penetrative sex, I asked him to wear a condom. When he refused, I said I didn't want to have sex with him. He penetrated me anyway.
I asked him to stop. He didn't. I kept telling myself that I had put myself in that position, that it was my fault. It wasn't.
---
The second time was middler year. I had consensual sex with another friend. I felt safe with him. We fell asleep, and at some point in the night I woke up with him inside me, having sex with my unconscious body.
I asked him to stop. He didn't. I kept telling myself that I had put myself in that position, that it was my fault. It wasn't.
I asked him to stop. He didn't. I kept telling myself that I had put myself in that position, that it was my fault. It wasn't.
---
The second time was middler year. I had consensual sex with another friend. I felt safe with him. We fell asleep, and at some point in the night I woke up with him inside me, having sex with my unconscious body.
I asked him to stop. He didn't. I kept telling myself that I had put myself in that position, that it was my fault. It wasn't.
“We were walking to campus from a party, drunk. We had both drank, but I was certainly the more intoxicated party. Although I had made clear I wasn't interested over the past year, she insisted on flirting heavily and I played along this time. We went back to her dorm and began hooking up, but I was not enjoying myself and was very uncomfortable. I was completely physically unaroused, so sex wasn't even a possibility. I left quickly and walked home. I sat in my dorm room ashamed that I had stooped so low, but remembered that we all make mistakes and tried to forgive myself.
6 months later, I found out that she had been telling everyone I knew that she had taken my virginity. People weren't even asking, she was just going around and bringing it up. I was humiliated and horrified but didn't know what to do. I felt like nobody would believe me, and that everybody would just assume I was lying because I regretted it. Almost everyone she told still thinks it's true. Her lies continue to violate me every time someone we know gives me a 'knowing' look, or smirks if they see us in the same room. She spread her lie so thoroughly I am powerless to correct it.”
6 months later, I found out that she had been telling everyone I knew that she had taken my virginity. People weren't even asking, she was just going around and bringing it up. I was humiliated and horrified but didn't know what to do. I felt like nobody would believe me, and that everybody would just assume I was lying because I regretted it. Almost everyone she told still thinks it's true. Her lies continue to violate me every time someone we know gives me a 'knowing' look, or smirks if they see us in the same room. She spread her lie so thoroughly I am powerless to correct it.”
“At a party spring semester freshman year, I suddenly realized that my friend and roommate was missing. I asked our other friends where she had gone, and they said they saw her go upstairs with one of the guys who lived in the apartment. I knew that my roommate was extremely intoxicated and in no condition to consent, so I went upstairs to look for her. When I found her, she was crying on the upstairs bathroom floor with no pants on. That night, I took her home, and she cried for 3 hours until she eventually tired herself out and went to sleep. By the time she woke up the next morning, she had convinced herself that it was consensual, as she claimed to remember telling the guy that she wanted to have sex. I still wish I had pressed her on the issue, had been there for her more. If he leaves you with no pants, crying on his bathroom floor, and with no memory of it the next day -- nothing about that is consensual.”
(20, 2020, College of Science)
(20, 2020, College of Science)
My sophomore year, I was hanging out with some friends in a dorm. It was a Friday night, and one of the guys there I’d had a crush on since I met him at an LGBTQ+ mixer. We were drinking and I got pretty tipsy. We ended up making out. We were on his bed kissing when his roommate came back from a night out. He’d gone out with a guy and was expecting to have sex with him but didn’t get to, I was told later. He came into the room, saw us, and was initially surprised. The guy I was with stepped out of the room for a second and his roommate, apparently recovered from his initial shock, proceeded to remove my pants and press his penis into me. It was only the second time I’d had penetrative anal sex, so it was extremely painful. I wanted so badly to tell him to stop, but I couldn’t. I was paralyzed with pain and fear. The guy I had a crush on came back into the room and asked his roommate what he was doing, saying “We’re gonna get in trouble,” but his roommate probably knew just how rarely that happens because he continued to rape me and didn’t get off. So, nothing more was said. I remember blaming myself for so long, downplaying what had happened, thinking “but he’s such a nice guy. It was my fault for not saying anything and letting him think my shrieks of pain were moans of pleasure.” I didn’t tell anyone for three years, not even my best friend after she was raped. I wanted so badly to just forget it and pretend it never happened. But it did and I haven’t forgotten.
“My aunt has a husband, my uncle. He is really weird and has always been, but everyone thought he was harmless. When I was 12 he noticed me. He sexually abused me until I was 15. But, when I was 17, he made a vulgar pass at my brother's girlfriend at a family Christmas Party. We all threw my uncle out. Everyone was so angry, and I felt hurt, like they were doing for the girlfriend what no one had done for me; noticed and stood up and protected her. That was when I broke down and told my mother what had been happening. I omitted many details, but she became so angry that she called all her sisters and told them, including my uncle's wife and daughter. Their whole family iced me out and my beloved Aunt told my brother that I was a little liar. I have tried to shut out these painful memories, but I am feeling their effect in my general fear of men. But the memories were pushed into the forefront of my mind after I was nearly assaulted in February before my roommate saved me. That experience brought everything back and I have been struggling with sleep and nightmares and I have to always have headphones in to keep out the memories. The effects last so long.”
(20, 3rd Year, Political Science)
(20, 3rd Year, Political Science)
“Freshman year after the underwear run, everyone was swiping big groups of people into the dorm just to get them all inside because it was cold and there was a huge line. I swiped two guys in who said their friend in the dorm ran ahead of them and had swiped in his limit of people. I started walking up to my room expecting them to go to their friends dorm but they followed me as if that was the plan all along. They asked to go to the bathroom in my dorm and then they'd leave (suite style so you had to swipe into a room to find a bathroom). Once they got in my room it gets a little less clear what happened because I've spent so much time trying to forget. One of the guys disappeared and the other one told me they wouldn't leave my room unless I gave him head, and if I didn't they'd get me in trouble and I signed them in so whatever they did it'd be my fault. I was younger than them and in my underwear so I figured I didn't have any option, and did it until he left. I block this memory out and it just came back while I was reading these other stories. (4th year)”
“I was sexually assaulted by another student, and was too scared to report the incident. I was scared that NUPD wouldn't believe me. I was scared that NUPD would interrogate me about my trauma. I was scared that people would demand to hear "his side of the story" and that he would gaslight me. I was scared that Northeastern would do nothing but put me in even more danger. In 5 years, I have never had a single positive interaction with NUPD. They are bullies, plain and simple. They're on a power trip and get off on making students afraid. It's disgusting.
-21 year old student, class of 2019, in COS.”
-21 year old student, class of 2019, in COS.”
“We met during freshman year. Her friends were friends with my friends, all in the same dorm. We held casual conversations on a few occasions. On Halloween, she approached me from behind at a party, groped me and said “let's get out of here”. I froze in shock. Politely I told her no thanks, that I was still enjoying the party. She didn't take no for an answer, continued to rub her hands around my waist and down my pants. I pushed her away and smirked. She gave up and walked away. After that incident, she would call at me in passing on the street. I never felt like I could tell anyone because they wouldn't believe me or think I exaggerated the situation. Especially since my friends knew her as someone else.
Age 23”
Age 23”
“I met him at the apartment party of a mutual friend. We had been drinking and flirting throughout the night. At the end of the party, he offered to walk me home. I said no thanks, that I was walking home with my roommate and another friend who lived in my building. He insisted and again I declined, saying my building was right around the corner and he was very sweet but there was really no need. He walked me home anyway.
When we got to my building, my friends went inside ahead of us. He stopped me and told me to come over to his place to spend the night. I made nice excuses- I had class the next morning, I was really tired. He grabbed me tighter, insisting. I tried to say no and push away from him but he was bigger and stronger than me and wouldn’t let me go. He said if I gave him a goodnight kiss he would leave. I conceded, I just wanted him to leave me alone. Even after, he still wouldn’t let go of me. Finally, my friends who had been waiting in the building lobby came out to see what was taking so long. My male friend told the guy it was time for him to leave and ushered me inside. I spent the night crying.
A year later, I ran into him at a party. I tried to avoid him like I usually did when I saw him around campus but he approached me. He asked if I remembered meeting him and if I remembered that guy (my friend who had saved me). I said yes. He complained that my friend had been saying mean things about him and blowing the events of that night out of proportion. I told him that I disagreed. I said point blank that he had made me very uncomfortable that night and that when he wouldn’t let me go back into my building at the end of the night, the friend had interceded to protect me. The guy laughed and told me I was wrong, “We were both just drunk and having fun, you don’t know what you’re talking about”.
(22, 2018, COS)”
When we got to my building, my friends went inside ahead of us. He stopped me and told me to come over to his place to spend the night. I made nice excuses- I had class the next morning, I was really tired. He grabbed me tighter, insisting. I tried to say no and push away from him but he was bigger and stronger than me and wouldn’t let me go. He said if I gave him a goodnight kiss he would leave. I conceded, I just wanted him to leave me alone. Even after, he still wouldn’t let go of me. Finally, my friends who had been waiting in the building lobby came out to see what was taking so long. My male friend told the guy it was time for him to leave and ushered me inside. I spent the night crying.
A year later, I ran into him at a party. I tried to avoid him like I usually did when I saw him around campus but he approached me. He asked if I remembered meeting him and if I remembered that guy (my friend who had saved me). I said yes. He complained that my friend had been saying mean things about him and blowing the events of that night out of proportion. I told him that I disagreed. I said point blank that he had made me very uncomfortable that night and that when he wouldn’t let me go back into my building at the end of the night, the friend had interceded to protect me. The guy laughed and told me I was wrong, “We were both just drunk and having fun, you don’t know what you’re talking about”.
(22, 2018, COS)”
“This is not a story of sexual assault, but a story of the lack of competent, sensitive title IX representatives we have here at Northeastern University:
The Office for Gender Equity and Compliance provide trainings for NU students and clubs regarding Title IX and university policies. I was attending one of these trainings for a club I am in. As the Title IX representative was talking about policies, he got into the topic of filing restraining orders/no contact orders. He then proceeded to make a sexist joke, saying “Isn’t it ironic how most of the time women who file these no contact orders are the ones that break them, not the men?”
I was in shock, and so was everyone else in the room. When someone finally responded, telling him that what he said was not funny or relevant to the presentation, he said “Lighten up, it was a joke.” If Northeastern’s Title IX representatives can’t even take their own policies seriously, how are we supposed to trust them with handling our cases of sexual assault?”
The Office for Gender Equity and Compliance provide trainings for NU students and clubs regarding Title IX and university policies. I was attending one of these trainings for a club I am in. As the Title IX representative was talking about policies, he got into the topic of filing restraining orders/no contact orders. He then proceeded to make a sexist joke, saying “Isn’t it ironic how most of the time women who file these no contact orders are the ones that break them, not the men?”
I was in shock, and so was everyone else in the room. When someone finally responded, telling him that what he said was not funny or relevant to the presentation, he said “Lighten up, it was a joke.” If Northeastern’s Title IX representatives can’t even take their own policies seriously, how are we supposed to trust them with handling our cases of sexual assault?”
“I was a freshman at Northeastern. It was a Friday night and I was at a house party on the hill with friends. A guy from a fraternity I frequented at the time texted me saying there was a party happening at their house, close by to where I was. A guy I was interested at the time was from the fraternity, and the boy texting me was a close friend. He asked if I wanted to stop by. I went to the house, alone, sure that there would be a pledge from my dorm or someone else I knew present. The house was dark, and when I rang the doorbell the guy texting came down and mentioned the party was down in the basement and I could throw my jacket in his room. He was an individual that was always friendly, a "dad" type, one I trusted (naively). When I was in his room, coat off, he closed the door and mentioned he’d share his whiskey. I was uncomfortable and repeatedly said I wanted to say hi to whoever was downstairs. He "texted his friends" and turns out the party if there ever was one had been moved elsewhere. I mentioned i should therefore get back to my friends but he sat next to me and kept his hand firmly placed on my thigh until I "at least tried the whiskey his father bought." He pushed my purse with my phone off the bed and encouraged me to "get cozy." I mentioned I wanted to go but my comments were disregarded. He kept saying how into me he was, and how I was a tease for pretending to be into his fraternity brothers... He tried to kiss me and I shyed away. Then he firmly held my face and kissed me. I wanted to go but was afraid. When he pushed me onto his bed I said no about 10 times until I said "fine." When all was said and done I gathered my things and ran down the hill, calling my friends and asking them to meet me. I couldn't be alone and did not understand what had happened. He was a senior at the time.
I kept the details to myself. I never really spoke about it aside from the friends who met me. I am a senior now, 22, class of 2018, Bouve. I didn't report a thing, be it fear of repercussion via the frat, fear I wouldn't be taken seriously as a freshman partying on the hill, or fear the violation I felt meant nothing since I was coerced into giving the okay after multiple "no's." I knew my university wouldn't back me up, so I let it become a part of my past yet think about it often.”
I kept the details to myself. I never really spoke about it aside from the friends who met me. I am a senior now, 22, class of 2018, Bouve. I didn't report a thing, be it fear of repercussion via the frat, fear I wouldn't be taken seriously as a freshman partying on the hill, or fear the violation I felt meant nothing since I was coerced into giving the okay after multiple "no's." I knew my university wouldn't back me up, so I let it become a part of my past yet think about it often.”
“It was my second semester as a freshman and I had still not been to a frat party. My friends urged me to go to one and I reluctantly complied. At the party, a guy walked up to me (who I thought was very attractive) and offered me a drink. I enjoyed his company and we continued to talk. After a while, he asked, "Do you want to go upstairs? I have really cool pictures from my dialogue." Thinking this was a purely innocent request, I complied. He led me into a bedroom with 4 other guys already inside. There were also two girls. One of the guys had a camera in his hand and shot me a dirty glance. Suddenly, everyone in the room started chanting "Bukake Bukake Bukake" 3 of the men instantly withdrew their penises from their pants expecting me to give them blowjobs. The girls in the room started laughing and calling me a slut. One after the other, I gave them oral while the idiot in the back filmed. I felt so pressured and they made me feel like I didn't have a choice. Months after people keep looking at me as they walk by on campus saying "Bukake" as a way of teasing me. It's simply awful.”
(21, Class of 2022, D'Amore-McKim School of Business)
(21, Class of 2022, D'Amore-McKim School of Business)
“My Sophomore spring I was taking my very drunk date (just friends, never hooked up or anything) home from an event. We had been good friends from high school and I never suspected he'd ever be a potential threat. We were in the uber when he started getting extremely handsy and aggressive and I just figured he was drunk being an idiot. We got out of the Uber at his and he asked me to help him inside to his apartment, where I had been 100 times. I put him in bed and went to get him water, when I got back to give him his water he had taken off most of his clothing and grabbed me and pulled me onto his bed. I told him to stop and started hitting him. I was in complete shock this was happening. He started taking off my dress and I kept yelling trying to get out from under him, but he's over 6 feet and double my weight, so I was trapped. After almost 15 minutes of him trying to have sex with me (he was too drunk) one of his roommates heard me yelling and came into the room. My date stopped immediately and rolled over like nothing happened. I grabbed my stuff and ran as fast as could, ignoring his roommate who I was good friends with at the time. I remember so vividly running barefoot down the street until my feet hurt too badly. I felt so alone and powerless. He was in a popular fraternity and friends with a lot of my friends here and from high school. I had no idea who to turn to. I ended up calling my mom and confided in her, but she was just so angry and insisted I go to Northeastern and the police. I talked to a few friends from home and they all urged me to come forward. I remember when one of my friends came to me after a similar experience how much I pushed her to come forward and couldn't imagine ever being that girl. Here I was. I spent hours thinking about what to do. The next day I decided I was going to go to Northeastern about what had happened because I wanted to make sure this didn't happen to someone else. I remember googling what resources to reach out to at Northeastern, but then I started balling and I lost my confidence thinking about all the horror stories of people not believing survivors. Why would I trust a school that has no idea who I am and who mistreats students with one of my intimate secrets? As I said, he was a huge part of my life and social group. I had no faith that Northeastern would do anything but make this issue worse. The school couldn't even help me when I broke my right wrist and couldn't write for a month and needed assignment extensions or when I transferred and knew no one, they put me in a with no roommate and when I asked to move, they tried to charge me. Professors never know student's names and advisors are barely present in our lives. Northeastern is a business and the only interaction I've had with administration or resources on campus are when tuition is due. There was no chance I would trust the same school to help me through something that still haunts me today. Because of all these horrible experiences with Northeastern, this guy still walks around campus completely unaware of what he had done. I distanced myself from him obviously and can't even look at him. To this day people think, we aren't friends because we just lost touch. I see him hugging girls at parties and bars and every time I hate that i didn't have the courage to come forward.”
“I remember the terror I felt when I wrote my initial letter to the office that handles student misconduct explaining the situation between me and another student on campus. I didn’t know how to explain his behavior. I rambled away in the letter. They immediately passed it on to the police for investigation, and from there it was beyond my control. The student was going to be notified that this had been reported — whether or not I wanted him to be — and a No Contact Order was placed between the two of us within days.
I wanted to throw up sitting in the police station reciting the events that had taken place throughout the past year. The constant stalking and sexual harassment, and finally the event that lead to the report — the sexual assault. I somehow managed to survive this, and upon being told my options about what I could do from here… I chose none. I was made to believe that if I tried to pursue anything — even a ‘simple’ University hearing — there was a slim chance it could end in my favor. The trauma of all the events was enough for me at this point. I needed it to be over. The case was still left open until they talked to the other student, who admitted to everything that I’d said earlier that day without hesitation. I remember the police calling me and telling me how terrified he was about the accusations. He couldn’t have been as terrified as I was, that I know for certain.”
(20 at time of sexual assault, 2017 graduate from COS)
I wanted to throw up sitting in the police station reciting the events that had taken place throughout the past year. The constant stalking and sexual harassment, and finally the event that lead to the report — the sexual assault. I somehow managed to survive this, and upon being told my options about what I could do from here… I chose none. I was made to believe that if I tried to pursue anything — even a ‘simple’ University hearing — there was a slim chance it could end in my favor. The trauma of all the events was enough for me at this point. I needed it to be over. The case was still left open until they talked to the other student, who admitted to everything that I’d said earlier that day without hesitation. I remember the police calling me and telling me how terrified he was about the accusations. He couldn’t have been as terrified as I was, that I know for certain.”
(20 at time of sexual assault, 2017 graduate from COS)
“I went to the police station and sat there waiting for a detective to come out to hear what I had to say and to add to my sexual assault case. I expected to be taken into the usual backroom, interviewed by the detective, and then sent on my way.
This is not quite what happened. A cop came out and asked why I was there and I calmly explained. He told me I was overreacting. I explained that the case was already documented and that I’d like for it to be updated with this new information — retaliation I’d received just minutes before I left to go home, and was side tracked by the glowing blue lights of the station where I decided to report it. The cop did not take me seriously. He did not bring me into a back room. He talked to me in the lobby and wrote down about 1/3 of what I was saying, but seemed to have no interest. I finally started to crack a little, so I asked him: “How would you feel if your daughter spent every night with a boy that had sexually assaulted her, all because they were on the same club together?” He hesitated before responding, “Well I have a son.” Before tears could start streaming down my face, I walked out of the police station. I acknowledge that this probably came across as ‘hostile,’ but I wasn’t about to deal with a sexist cop on top of a Title IX case. By the time I got home on the freezing February night, I was hysterical and covered in my own blood, courtesy of my frequent (and typically anxiety induced) nosebleeds. The proctor barely looked at me when she swiped my ID to get into the building.
I was 20 years old.”
This is not quite what happened. A cop came out and asked why I was there and I calmly explained. He told me I was overreacting. I explained that the case was already documented and that I’d like for it to be updated with this new information — retaliation I’d received just minutes before I left to go home, and was side tracked by the glowing blue lights of the station where I decided to report it. The cop did not take me seriously. He did not bring me into a back room. He talked to me in the lobby and wrote down about 1/3 of what I was saying, but seemed to have no interest. I finally started to crack a little, so I asked him: “How would you feel if your daughter spent every night with a boy that had sexually assaulted her, all because they were on the same club together?” He hesitated before responding, “Well I have a son.” Before tears could start streaming down my face, I walked out of the police station. I acknowledge that this probably came across as ‘hostile,’ but I wasn’t about to deal with a sexist cop on top of a Title IX case. By the time I got home on the freezing February night, I was hysterical and covered in my own blood, courtesy of my frequent (and typically anxiety induced) nosebleeds. The proctor barely looked at me when she swiped my ID to get into the building.
I was 20 years old.”
“I had been warned about this professor's inappropriate behavior well before I had met him. It had been common knowledge but no one really seemed to know the extent of his behavior. I made sure to be careful with all interactions with this professor like making sure he didn't shut the door at office hours and making sure there was a good distance when we would talk. All my efforts did not protect me.
I was at an event with this professor and I was ushered to sit next to him. When I went to sit down, I was speaking to other colleagues who were arriving and sitting down as well. I didn't realize this professor's hand was waiting on the seat. It wasn't until he grabbed my ass that I realized.
I reported the incident but was treated as if I was a vixen who had seduced this professor, that I had been responsible for his action, that I am the one to blame. The process was as traumatizing as the incident itself. It continues to traumatize me as the university continues to not follow its policies when students report these issues.”
I was at an event with this professor and I was ushered to sit next to him. When I went to sit down, I was speaking to other colleagues who were arriving and sitting down as well. I didn't realize this professor's hand was waiting on the seat. It wasn't until he grabbed my ass that I realized.
I reported the incident but was treated as if I was a vixen who had seduced this professor, that I had been responsible for his action, that I am the one to blame. The process was as traumatizing as the incident itself. It continues to traumatize me as the university continues to not follow its policies when students report these issues.”
“When I was a freshman at BU, a friend was raped by a Northeastern student, in his Northeastern dorm.
When I was a senior, I was sexually assaulted at a club, in the middle of the dance floor. Now I'm a Northeastern staff member and grad student. I see these stories and I want to help, but I don't know what I can do.
Northeastern survivors, I see you, I hear you, and I will do whatever I can to help you.”
When I was a senior, I was sexually assaulted at a club, in the middle of the dance floor. Now I'm a Northeastern staff member and grad student. I see these stories and I want to help, but I don't know what I can do.
Northeastern survivors, I see you, I hear you, and I will do whatever I can to help you.”
“A guy who lived on my floor told me and my friends he could get us into a bar because he was on a sports team. So we went, we got in, but we didn't drink because we didn't have IDs. We were talking and having a really nice time, just flirting and getting to know each other. We all finally went back to our dorm at last call, and two of my friends and the athlete came back to my room. After about a half hour, my two friends left to hang out in the common room, so it was just me and the athlete. He and I started kissing, and even though I was into it at first, I told him very clearly that I didn't want to do anything serious. He laughed and tried to unzip my jeans. I said, "I'm serious." and he replied, "You know you want it". I got scared, so I shoved him off me. He yelled, "what the hell?" I told him again that I didn't want to do any of that. He called me a tease and a buzz kill and then left. I ran into the common room a few minutes after and told my friends about what had happened. They comforted me, but we all knew there was nothing we could do about it. I feel so lucky that nothing escalated too much, but I still see him around campus sometimes - and he won't even look at me.” (21, 2018, CAMD)
“I didn't take action because he had a lot of friends who would take his side and I didn't want to get him in trouble because it would be too much work to relive the experience and i never wanted to see his face again. There is no place I felt comfortable going on campus after it happened and no one I felt comfortable talking to in the admin because I feared they would put me endanger by confronting him. I still have a panic attack every time I pass him on campus. I chose my Co-Op cycle specifically so I would have to see him less. I still have a scar from him that i have to explain to all other partners. I know he did it to other girls too because 3 of my friends experienced similar situations and none of us feel comfortable coming forward.”
“Weeks earlier, he sent me texts asking me out and I said, "I'm sorry but I only want to be friends". It was made clear that he wasn't my type and I didn't want to ever hook-up in any capacity. One night after a frat party, we hung out in a friend's dorm. As I was leaving the dorm and he stopped me telling me that he wanted to talk. I once again reiterated that I had no interest in hooking up and he assured me that we were only going to talk. I was naive and listened to him, once we got to the room advances were made, I wanted to leave and said again I didn't want to have sex or do anything.
After going through the Title IX process. I was sent the final Notice of Resolution. The one line I found the most challenging was, “it’s more likely than not that Mr. XXXX obtained consent prior to each sexual act.” While I may not have actively resisted each act, I did not give consent at any time during that evening. It is my understanding that the current standard for consensual sex requires explicit consent. I don’t see how anything I did or said that evening meets that standard.”
(Male, 2019, DMSB)
After going through the Title IX process. I was sent the final Notice of Resolution. The one line I found the most challenging was, “it’s more likely than not that Mr. XXXX obtained consent prior to each sexual act.” While I may not have actively resisted each act, I did not give consent at any time during that evening. It is my understanding that the current standard for consensual sex requires explicit consent. I don’t see how anything I did or said that evening meets that standard.”
(Male, 2019, DMSB)
“I was on co-op and was repeatedly being harassed by a male employee who I typically worked with multiple times per week, even though we were in different departments. He was married with a child. I was in a long-distance relationship with a female. This clearly turned him on because he wouldn't stop making comments for the rest of my time there.
"I could take you away and we could live in Europe."
"My wife won't care if I leave her for you."
"I'll call your girlfriend and tell her you hate her."
"Tell your girlfriend you'll leave her for me."
When I would tell him he was making me uncomfortable, he said "I'm just playing! It's a joke!"
HR fired him. But our colleagues retaliated against the other co-ops and myself until we left. Even after he was gone, I was still being guilted into feeling sorry for "what I had done" (getting him fired.)”
(24, 2016, College of Science)
"I could take you away and we could live in Europe."
"My wife won't care if I leave her for you."
"I'll call your girlfriend and tell her you hate her."
"Tell your girlfriend you'll leave her for me."
When I would tell him he was making me uncomfortable, he said "I'm just playing! It's a joke!"
HR fired him. But our colleagues retaliated against the other co-ops and myself until we left. Even after he was gone, I was still being guilted into feeling sorry for "what I had done" (getting him fired.)”
(24, 2016, College of Science)
“I never even meant to go out that night. I was at a Northeastern fraternity party playing a game of beer pong. I was sober so I was doing pretty well. All I had to drink was the ounce or so of "beer". I woke up in the hospital the next morning covered in bruises, seminal fluid, and blood. I had four surgeries to fix the tears and the damage to my cervix. My blood alcohol content was well below the driving limit when I came into the hospital. In the toxicology report, they found rohypnol. I had been found on campus over by Kerr Hall in the alley called the Milky Way. NUPD drove me there so there was a police report.
I was taken to OSCCR because I was underage drinking. I basically ended up paying fines so that I could be raped. Because I couldn't remember what had happened, there was no one to prosecute. I lost my RAship because of the OSCCR case. I had to explain the incident on every grad school application. I'm not arguing that I shouldn't have been drinking. I'm saying that in the context of my brutal gang rape maybe that wasn't the most important thing. I have the rape kit. I'm too afraid to do anything about it. It wasn't like Northeastern cared. I figured the police wouldn't either.”
(21, Class of 2017, College of Social Sciences of Humanities.)
I was taken to OSCCR because I was underage drinking. I basically ended up paying fines so that I could be raped. Because I couldn't remember what had happened, there was no one to prosecute. I lost my RAship because of the OSCCR case. I had to explain the incident on every grad school application. I'm not arguing that I shouldn't have been drinking. I'm saying that in the context of my brutal gang rape maybe that wasn't the most important thing. I have the rape kit. I'm too afraid to do anything about it. It wasn't like Northeastern cared. I figured the police wouldn't either.”
(21, Class of 2017, College of Social Sciences of Humanities.)
“In the beginning of this year, I had recently broken up with my boyfriend and was out at a bar commonly gone to by Northeastern athletes. I was an athlete too, and I had been drinking a lot that night trying to have fun despite the recent break up. A guy on one of the teams here that I was sort of friends friends with came up to me and we started talking and ended up making out at the bar.
After that, he called an uber and told me he would take me home. He ended up calling the uber to his place, and during the entire uber ride he kissed my neck and groped me all over my entire body. Even though I was extremely uncomfortable, and so was the driver, I didn't say anything. Once we got to his place, we went straight to his room. I told him I didn't want to have sex. He called me "baby" and went inside me anyways. I started to cry and he did not stop. I continued to cry, and he went down on me for about five minutes before I finally pushed him off me and called an uber and left. I didn't sleep at all that entire night, and the next morning he messaged me: "Sorry about last night". Not a single day has gone by where I don't think about that night.
I didn't tell anyone at Northeastern about it because I thought it would do more harm to me than good. I thought somehow, the blame would be put on me and people would think it was my fault for going back to his place.”
(Age: 21)
After that, he called an uber and told me he would take me home. He ended up calling the uber to his place, and during the entire uber ride he kissed my neck and groped me all over my entire body. Even though I was extremely uncomfortable, and so was the driver, I didn't say anything. Once we got to his place, we went straight to his room. I told him I didn't want to have sex. He called me "baby" and went inside me anyways. I started to cry and he did not stop. I continued to cry, and he went down on me for about five minutes before I finally pushed him off me and called an uber and left. I didn't sleep at all that entire night, and the next morning he messaged me: "Sorry about last night". Not a single day has gone by where I don't think about that night.
I didn't tell anyone at Northeastern about it because I thought it would do more harm to me than good. I thought somehow, the blame would be put on me and people would think it was my fault for going back to his place.”
(Age: 21)
“We were on a 3 ½ hour flight back to Boston. I’d never seen him before; but by chance we were assigned to sit next to each other. “You also go to Northeastern,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
Less than an hour into the flight he nudged me. “I don’t want to be rude, but you have the most incredible rack I’ve ever seen.” It was then that I realized his arm had been intentionally pressed against my side. I tensed up and shrunk into myself but tried to laugh it off. After all, I couldn’t leave.
We sat in silence until he nudged me again. “I’ll let you grab my ass if you let me grab your tits. It’s a fair trade.”
I was shocked. I was pissed. And I had absolutely nowhere to go.
So I sat there in silence- awake and fuming- for the next 2 ½ hours. He slept the rest of the way.
Later, once we landed, I was with a friend at baggage claim telling him everything when this guy came up to us. He apologized and said he assumed I’d be into it. I didn’t have words- I had been forced to sit next to this guy for hours and had nothing to say to him.
He finally started walking away then; but he turned back around for a last word, “You know—you didn’t have to be such a bitch about it.”
Less than an hour into the flight he nudged me. “I don’t want to be rude, but you have the most incredible rack I’ve ever seen.” It was then that I realized his arm had been intentionally pressed against my side. I tensed up and shrunk into myself but tried to laugh it off. After all, I couldn’t leave.
We sat in silence until he nudged me again. “I’ll let you grab my ass if you let me grab your tits. It’s a fair trade.”
I was shocked. I was pissed. And I had absolutely nowhere to go.
So I sat there in silence- awake and fuming- for the next 2 ½ hours. He slept the rest of the way.
Later, once we landed, I was with a friend at baggage claim telling him everything when this guy came up to us. He apologized and said he assumed I’d be into it. I didn’t have words- I had been forced to sit next to this guy for hours and had nothing to say to him.
He finally started walking away then; but he turned back around for a last word, “You know—you didn’t have to be such a bitch about it.”
"I was a transfer student. My first semester at NU was the worst for reasons other than being assaulted, as well, but being assaulted took the cake.
I was just initiated into a sorority and decided to attend one of the Halloween parties hosted by one of the fraternities. I heard rumors my whole life about the bad things that happen at these parties, but I was told by my sisters, whom I trusted, that the men of this fraternity were good people.
The party was fun, sure. I was dressed up, dancing with a little bit of liquid courage, and hanging out with my new friends. This guy came up to me and started dancing next to me. I complimented him on his creative outfit. We danced for a while and then he asked me if I wanted to "get away from the noise for a little bit." Being an introvert, I gladly said yes because I was getting kind of overwhelmed by everything.
We walked upstairs as other guys hooted and winked at the two of us. I tried ignoring it thinking they were all just drunk.
We walked into a room and sat on a couch. He leaned in and started kissing me. He was sloppy so I asked him to stop. He said "no" and straddled me, pinning me to the couch, forcing me to continue kissing him. I pushed him off me and said "stop!" He sat back and apologized. I stood up to leave and he did the same thing. One of the guys saw us through the door, winked, and closed the door. I got enough strength mustered up to push him off me a second time and then I stood up. He pinned me to the wall, choked me and tried jamming his mouth down my throat. I pushed him off me a third time and ran out the door. By the time I got downstairs none of my sisters were there. They had all left. I walked back to campus and told my friend, who was an RA. He told me to sleep on his floor and forget it happened.
Three years later, after I had become an RA myself, I realized that I needed to tell someone about this because it was eating away at me. I went with a friend to the Title IX office and was told "there's nothing we can do because you don't know his name." There was no investigation, just a 'too bad, so sad' sentiment given.
I'll never know who assaulted me, I'll never forgive my RA who didn't help me in the moment and I'll never forgive the Title IX Officer for not helping me when I finally had some ounce of courage to tell my story.
And this wasn't even the only time I was assaulted by another NU student.”
(24. 2016, College of Science)
I was just initiated into a sorority and decided to attend one of the Halloween parties hosted by one of the fraternities. I heard rumors my whole life about the bad things that happen at these parties, but I was told by my sisters, whom I trusted, that the men of this fraternity were good people.
The party was fun, sure. I was dressed up, dancing with a little bit of liquid courage, and hanging out with my new friends. This guy came up to me and started dancing next to me. I complimented him on his creative outfit. We danced for a while and then he asked me if I wanted to "get away from the noise for a little bit." Being an introvert, I gladly said yes because I was getting kind of overwhelmed by everything.
We walked upstairs as other guys hooted and winked at the two of us. I tried ignoring it thinking they were all just drunk.
We walked into a room and sat on a couch. He leaned in and started kissing me. He was sloppy so I asked him to stop. He said "no" and straddled me, pinning me to the couch, forcing me to continue kissing him. I pushed him off me and said "stop!" He sat back and apologized. I stood up to leave and he did the same thing. One of the guys saw us through the door, winked, and closed the door. I got enough strength mustered up to push him off me a second time and then I stood up. He pinned me to the wall, choked me and tried jamming his mouth down my throat. I pushed him off me a third time and ran out the door. By the time I got downstairs none of my sisters were there. They had all left. I walked back to campus and told my friend, who was an RA. He told me to sleep on his floor and forget it happened.
Three years later, after I had become an RA myself, I realized that I needed to tell someone about this because it was eating away at me. I went with a friend to the Title IX office and was told "there's nothing we can do because you don't know his name." There was no investigation, just a 'too bad, so sad' sentiment given.
I'll never know who assaulted me, I'll never forgive my RA who didn't help me in the moment and I'll never forgive the Title IX Officer for not helping me when I finally had some ounce of courage to tell my story.
And this wasn't even the only time I was assaulted by another NU student.”
(24. 2016, College of Science)
“I was a virgin when I came to Northeastern, even though I had been in a serious relationship in high school. I knew that I wanted to wait for it to be meaningful. When I dated guys in college, they thought this was on the table for bargaining. I was made to feel guilty for sticking up for myself and was guilted into going further than I wanted. This was not enthusiastic and clear consent. I wish I had been strong enough to get away from these guys sooner and have thankfully found a partner I trust who waited for my consent.”
“It happened on campus after a party. Though I'd stopped drinking about half an hour prior to leaving, I was still quite drunk. He offered to help me get home, despite my initial decision to leave alone. In the back of my mind, I kept thinking that he'd think I owed him something. Apparently, he did too. When I woke up in the next morning, confused and ashamed, I was told repeatedly that I'd liked it. And for a few weeks, that's all I was able to think about — I'd liked it, so it wasn't bad, right?
It wasn't until a few weeks later that I actually came to terms with what had happened, and that I was physically able to express it.
I didn't take action, because I was afraid no one would believe it'd happened. As victims, we're often made to feel like we have to prove our stories, instead of being believed from the get-go. So, we're discouraged from sharing what's happened to us, and instead force ourselves to deal with it by repressing what's happened to us. It needs to change.”
(21, 2019, CAMD)
It wasn't until a few weeks later that I actually came to terms with what had happened, and that I was physically able to express it.
I didn't take action, because I was afraid no one would believe it'd happened. As victims, we're often made to feel like we have to prove our stories, instead of being believed from the get-go. So, we're discouraged from sharing what's happened to us, and instead force ourselves to deal with it by repressing what's happened to us. It needs to change.”
(21, 2019, CAMD)
“For the longest time I didn't call it rape because it started off as consensual sex. And it was someone I knew. And it was only technically without consent for under a minute. However, halfway it started becoming really painful and I politely asked him to stop. Nothing changed so I tried pulling away, only to feel my hips gripped even harder. "You can't fucking make me stop right now" was his response.”
“My Sophomore year I went out to a club towards the end of the semester with my friends. During the night I got slightly tipsy but still sober enough to know what was going on. I ended up kissing a guy, who stuck his hand down my pants and his fingers up a place that made me feel uncomfortable. I kept telling him to stop but he didn't, and because I felt paralysed, I couldn't make him. This was in the middle of the dance floor and nobody around us said or did anything, even though what was happening clearly wasn't right.
My fight or flight senses eventually kicked in and I guess because I was more sober than he was I was able to break away, but my friends had seen me kissing him so I felt like they wouldn't have believed me if I told them what happened and that it made me feel violated.
I took almost a year to tell anyone and I get anxiety and panic attacks now because of it. I only wear jeans to parties now because it makes me feel safer, even if I still don't feel safe.”
(Junior, CAMD)
My fight or flight senses eventually kicked in and I guess because I was more sober than he was I was able to break away, but my friends had seen me kissing him so I felt like they wouldn't have believed me if I told them what happened and that it made me feel violated.
I took almost a year to tell anyone and I get anxiety and panic attacks now because of it. I only wear jeans to parties now because it makes me feel safer, even if I still don't feel safe.”
(Junior, CAMD)
"When I was a sophomore, I went to a friend's room in one of the dorms for a party. We were drinking and I was flirting with his roommate. By the end of the night, we were in his room and I was fairly drunk and I remember him trying to take my clothes off while I repeatedly said "no, I just want to go to sleep". The next morning, I woke up in my friend's room in different clothes with my purse in his roommate's room. I left immediately because I was extremely uncomfortable and I told my friend to bring my purse to the class we shared the next day. When he gave it to me, all he said was "don't worry, you liked it." Chills ran down my spine. I was so shocked, confused, and ashamed that I didn't even ask what I "liked" knowing immediately that I never consented to anything. I never told anyone to this day, not friends or family and certainly not Northeastern because I knew they would paint me as the one at fault since I was drinking. Since then, I have seen him on campus or at bars/clubs and it makes my skin crawl and I can hear the words "don't worry, you liked it" ringing so loudly in my ears that I have to leave or walk the opposite direction to escape his presence. And the worst part is that I know he doesn't even think twice about what happened and probably doesn't even remember me."
(23, 2018, College of Engineering)
(23, 2018, College of Engineering)
"It was the last night of freshman fall semester before everyone went home for winter break, I was packing in my room and had some close friends on my floor over to hang out. We were all drinking and talking through the night and people started to filter out as it got later. Finally it was just my one guy friend and me.
We had become close through the semester, he was always complimenting me and had hit on me a few times but I always kept things platonic. I didn’t think he was really serious about any of it, anyway.
Once we were alone he started up flirting again and came over to where I was sitting on my bed, telling me how beautiful I was and holding me by the shoulders, trying to kiss me. I told him I wasn’t interested, and that I just wanted to go to bed. I must have tried going to bed right then, because the next thing I remember I was lying flat on my back as he stood over me, aggressively groping/biting my breasts and telling me how good he would be to me if I dated him, begging me to kiss him. I felt physically overwhelmed and mentally paralyzed, I could only keep shaking my head and begging him to stop. He didn’t stop. At one point I rolled to my stomach in an effort to get him physically away from my breasts, he continued to reach under my body and crossed arms to touch me.
I remember thinking that maybe if I kissed him he would leave me alone. The part of my brain that wants to make my friends happy also kicked in, making me feel a fucked up kind of sympathy. I finally gave in and kissed him, and he left.
Probably the most fucked up thing is we never really talked about it. I made some embarrassed comment to him the next day about having kissed him the night before, and life went on as normal. I couldn’t wear normal shirts or bras comfortably for weeks. It hurt to shower. I felt violated, but didn’t want to stir up drama. I didn’t know how to articulate my feelings, anyway. He was a self declared feminist, cared about social justice, was publicly adamant about the wrongs of sexual assault. I couldn’t reconcile who he was with what he had done to me.
I told one or two of my girlfriends what had happened but no one else. I told myself I should reframe what happened as a form of flattery, to soothe my indignation. It was not flattery."
Age: 21
We had become close through the semester, he was always complimenting me and had hit on me a few times but I always kept things platonic. I didn’t think he was really serious about any of it, anyway.
Once we were alone he started up flirting again and came over to where I was sitting on my bed, telling me how beautiful I was and holding me by the shoulders, trying to kiss me. I told him I wasn’t interested, and that I just wanted to go to bed. I must have tried going to bed right then, because the next thing I remember I was lying flat on my back as he stood over me, aggressively groping/biting my breasts and telling me how good he would be to me if I dated him, begging me to kiss him. I felt physically overwhelmed and mentally paralyzed, I could only keep shaking my head and begging him to stop. He didn’t stop. At one point I rolled to my stomach in an effort to get him physically away from my breasts, he continued to reach under my body and crossed arms to touch me.
I remember thinking that maybe if I kissed him he would leave me alone. The part of my brain that wants to make my friends happy also kicked in, making me feel a fucked up kind of sympathy. I finally gave in and kissed him, and he left.
Probably the most fucked up thing is we never really talked about it. I made some embarrassed comment to him the next day about having kissed him the night before, and life went on as normal. I couldn’t wear normal shirts or bras comfortably for weeks. It hurt to shower. I felt violated, but didn’t want to stir up drama. I didn’t know how to articulate my feelings, anyway. He was a self declared feminist, cared about social justice, was publicly adamant about the wrongs of sexual assault. I couldn’t reconcile who he was with what he had done to me.
I told one or two of my girlfriends what had happened but no one else. I told myself I should reframe what happened as a form of flattery, to soothe my indignation. It was not flattery."
Age: 21
"When I was a sophomore I was assaulted by an acquaintance. I went home with him with the intention of hooking up, but then I drank more and when the situation began to feel unsafe I was too drunk to get up and leave, or to even say anything. He raped me and let his roommates watch. One of them took pictures of me being assaulted and then shared them with at least a dozen of his frat brothers, and possibly the whole frat. In following weekends I ran into some of the frat brothers I had never met before, and they called me a 'slut' and laughed at me.
I've gone through my university experience constantly afraid of running into the men who assaulted me or a stranger who saw the pictures. Some time had passed and I thought I was 'over it' but this year I ran into him on one occasion, and one of his roommates another time. Both incidences triggered panic attacks and self harm. I didn't even consider reporting the assault. I was already humiliated by the situation and wanted it to just disappear, and I knew the university would do nothing to help or benefit me in any way."
-student, 22
I've gone through my university experience constantly afraid of running into the men who assaulted me or a stranger who saw the pictures. Some time had passed and I thought I was 'over it' but this year I ran into him on one occasion, and one of his roommates another time. Both incidences triggered panic attacks and self harm. I didn't even consider reporting the assault. I was already humiliated by the situation and wanted it to just disappear, and I knew the university would do nothing to help or benefit me in any way."
-student, 22
“My best friend in high school was raped by a current NEU student. He still thinks we're friends and tries to talk to me. I can only hope the current surge in accountability catches up with him and everything he's done.”
“It was the beginning of spring semester my sophomore year; we had just gotten back from winter break. My future roommate invited me to a party at her boyfriend’s apartment and I happily went. I had been drinking a lot and I ended up hitting it off with one of his roommates and decided to stay the night at the apartment. When everyone left I went with him to his room and we started hooking up. He asked if I wanted to have sex. I said yes. He left to get a condom and I turned over in bed and shut my eyes. The next thing I remember was waking up next to him in the morning. I had no idea if I had blacked out or just fell asleep. I had no idea if we actually had sex or just went to bed. I never asked him what happened, I was afraid he would be embarrassed that I didn't remember what happened. I found out a few months later he had been telling people we slept together. I don't know whether he's lying or not. I've never used the word 'rape' to describe what happened to me. I just know something about what happened was wrong.”
21, junior, engineering
"When I was a sophomore at NU, I went to a small dorm party at a friend's place. Someone I knew, and considered a friend, was there and immediately started giving me shots and beer. He pressured me to drink heavily, which left me hardly able to stand after not too long.
I don't remember what happened next, but I remember being on his couch, him on top of me kissing and touching me, and me telling him no, stop, and it's not right repeatedly. His girlfriend was my friend, too.
Of course, that didn't stop him from continuing - he was much larger than me, and I was too intoxicated to push back much.
At some point, he got up to go to the bathroom. I immediately ran out of his dorm. The most haunting part of the experience - in just a few minutes, he sent me a text that I'll never forget. It just read "clever girl." Like an admission that he would have taken things further, an admission he knew it was all wrong.
I never reported anything. He was part of my larger friend group, and I was afraid of being shunned if I took action. I've since heard several stories of this person abusing people I care about, and I regret not doing something about it when it happened."
I don't remember what happened next, but I remember being on his couch, him on top of me kissing and touching me, and me telling him no, stop, and it's not right repeatedly. His girlfriend was my friend, too.
Of course, that didn't stop him from continuing - he was much larger than me, and I was too intoxicated to push back much.
At some point, he got up to go to the bathroom. I immediately ran out of his dorm. The most haunting part of the experience - in just a few minutes, he sent me a text that I'll never forget. It just read "clever girl." Like an admission that he would have taken things further, an admission he knew it was all wrong.
I never reported anything. He was part of my larger friend group, and I was afraid of being shunned if I took action. I've since heard several stories of this person abusing people I care about, and I regret not doing something about it when it happened."
"It was a lovely Autumn afternoon, and I was all set to spend it having a picnic at a park with a guy I was into.
At the picnic he showed a side of himself that I hadn't seen before, and made countless sexual advances. I told him I was uncomfortable with his behavior, especially in such a public setting. He told me to stop being such a fucking prude, as he forced himself on top of me.
Somehow I mustered up the strength to throw him off and took off running. I just took off running, running, running until my legs started wobbling under my weight like Jello. I collapsed, out of breath, with tears pouring out of my eyes.
Never again."
At the picnic he showed a side of himself that I hadn't seen before, and made countless sexual advances. I told him I was uncomfortable with his behavior, especially in such a public setting. He told me to stop being such a fucking prude, as he forced himself on top of me.
Somehow I mustered up the strength to throw him off and took off running. I just took off running, running, running until my legs started wobbling under my weight like Jello. I collapsed, out of breath, with tears pouring out of my eyes.
Never again."
“We had been dating for a couple of months at that point. I was a freshman, he was an upperclassman. By then, I had decided to abstain from sex throughout our whole relationship because I was a virgin and wasn’t ready. One day though, I guess I had decided I was, so I told him. The subsequent events unfolded as these things typically do, until we were initiating sex - my very first time. As I had been told, this was supposed to be painful for a bit, but I was in so much pain that I asked him to stop. He didn’t.
I cried from under him, telling him I was sure this wasn’t supposed to be that painful, and to stop. He said that sometimes it did hurt like this, and he would keep going until it didn’t hurt. It didn't stop hurting, as I didn’t stop crying and begging for him to stop, until he was done.
I didn’t stop bleeding for three days after, either.”
(22, Senior, Economics and International Affairs)
I cried from under him, telling him I was sure this wasn’t supposed to be that painful, and to stop. He said that sometimes it did hurt like this, and he would keep going until it didn’t hurt. It didn't stop hurting, as I didn’t stop crying and begging for him to stop, until he was done.
I didn’t stop bleeding for three days after, either.”
(22, Senior, Economics and International Affairs)
“One night during my freshman orientation, I found myself in the lobby talking to other incoming students. One guy and I started a conversation. I mentioned my newly long-distance relationship in our conversation, but this did not stop him from putting his hand on my thigh. I didn't want to confront him or be rude, so I just tried to scoot farther away from him. Finally, I decided to leave the conversation to go to bed. He offered to walk me up. I said, "No." No other girls were planning on leaving soon, so I had to go alone and he refused to let me leave by myself. He followed me up the stairs and wouldn't leave me alone. I knew I shouldn't go to the room I was staying in because I feared he would push his way inside if I unlocked the door. Fortunately, I ran into the women's restroom and another girl was inside. I don't know what would have happened if she hadn't been in there. I don't know the guy's name, but I saw him repeatedly in dining halls throughout college. Every time, it made me uneasy. It's ridiculous that my freshman orientation at Northeastern put me on edge from the start.”
“A guy I had hooked up with a couple times invited me to a party. I attended, although I had no desire to hook up with him again because of the way I saw him treat women. Since it was a day party, I didn't plan on getting very drunk--I had a couple beers and a couple shots (which the guy kept pouring for me).
Soon, I was belligerent (my guess, from some sort of drug or roofie, but I cannot confirm). I remember going to the bathroom upstairs, him following me in, and pushing me into a connected bedroom. We started having sex--at one point, I turned around and saw a guy standing in the corner of the room filming. I immediately started yelling, rolled off, stumbled to put my clothes, and ran out of the party and got home. I don't remember anything from the rest of the afternoon/night.
For months, I was in denial that it was "rape", because I had hooked up with him before, which is why I didn't report it. But it didn't matter--I felt violated and embarrassed and used. Don't discount your experiences because you think they are "less bad" than others'. Rape is rape; sexual assault is sexual assault--no matter the circumstances.”
Soon, I was belligerent (my guess, from some sort of drug or roofie, but I cannot confirm). I remember going to the bathroom upstairs, him following me in, and pushing me into a connected bedroom. We started having sex--at one point, I turned around and saw a guy standing in the corner of the room filming. I immediately started yelling, rolled off, stumbled to put my clothes, and ran out of the party and got home. I don't remember anything from the rest of the afternoon/night.
For months, I was in denial that it was "rape", because I had hooked up with him before, which is why I didn't report it. But it didn't matter--I felt violated and embarrassed and used. Don't discount your experiences because you think they are "less bad" than others'. Rape is rape; sexual assault is sexual assault--no matter the circumstances.”
“One night after a long day at work, I agreed to go over to a guy's dorm on campus who I was somewhat sexually involved with. We spent the night cuddling and watching a movie which was a lot of fun. After the movie ended he proceeded to ask me if I wanted to have sex with him. I replied by saying that I was tired and didn't really want to, however, he persisted by repeatedly asking me over and over again to have sex with him until I finally gave in and said yes. A few minutes into the encounter I realized that I was not enjoying myself at all and wanted to stop.I pushed him back and said "Stop, I don't want to have sex anymore." Instead of backing off of me immediately, he began to ask me why I didn't want to have sex anymore and continued to beg me to keep going. While pleading with me to continue he began to penetrate me again without my consent and said "You don't like this?" I layed there on the bed feeling completely helpless and defeated and started to cry. This is when he noticed that something was wrong and finally stopped having sex with me. Afterwards, I put on my clothes and left. When I was halfway down the hallway, he began to follow me, but at that point I wanted nothing to do with him. I didn't know where the stairs in his building were so I had to endure an uncomfortable elevator ride with him begging me to come back into the room with him and talk. I went back to my dorm and didn't say anything to anyone for the rest of the night. The next day, I told my friends everything and I wasn't emotionally stable enough to talk to or about another boy for weeks.”
19, Sophomore, Finance
19, Sophomore, Finance
"I had several advances from people while on on co-op. I told my manager and his response was, laughing, 'We can't stop hiring single engineers.'
These people were in relationships."
Class of 2017, College of Science, Chemistry.
These people were in relationships."
Class of 2017, College of Science, Chemistry.
"I was assaulted my freshman year at Northeastern. I was heavily intoxicated and a guy, whom I had considered a friend, was groping me. I did not tell anybody for two years and still have never told anyone who it was. I feared my friends (and Northeastern) would have sided with him or told me that I shouldn't have put myself in that situation."
"As a freshman, I attended a house party with people that I knew reasonably well. I had gone on a few dates with a junior. I was given a drink that he slipped something into. I remember feeling so heavy that I couldn't fight him off of me. I begged him to stop. He didn't. I must've passed out because I don't remember much after that. I didn't want to tell anyone what happened because I felt ashamed. I avoided him after that which eventually led to him physically attacking me and an attempt to force himself on me again.
I was terrified but because I was so young didn't know who to report it to. I was too ashamed to tell anyone I had been raped but I had witnesses to the physical attack and that is what I decided to come forward with. I went to get help from an organization I was in. I had to repeat the story several times including once in front of the person who did this to me. He said he didn't know what I was talking about and they called me a liar. He was a member of their executive board. I ended up having to leave the organization as they would not remove him.
I then went to an administrator on campus. She responded to my experience by telling me that my story was hard to believe. She told me that she has known him since he was a little kid. She pressured me to think hard if I really wanted to move forward with reporting it. She told me that it would ruin his life and that he could lose his scholarship.
I was so disheartened that they didn't believe me. I dropped it and didn't continue to fight it. I didn't speak about it again until after I graduated Northeastern.
I was young and felt scared to contact the police. Maybe if this campaign was around then, I would've continued to fight. I have since been able to forgive both the person who did this to me and the people who didn't help me. However, it is really encouraging to know that a platform is being created to help people come forward and to effect policy changes."
(Alumni, 2011, Communication Studies)
I was terrified but because I was so young didn't know who to report it to. I was too ashamed to tell anyone I had been raped but I had witnesses to the physical attack and that is what I decided to come forward with. I went to get help from an organization I was in. I had to repeat the story several times including once in front of the person who did this to me. He said he didn't know what I was talking about and they called me a liar. He was a member of their executive board. I ended up having to leave the organization as they would not remove him.
I then went to an administrator on campus. She responded to my experience by telling me that my story was hard to believe. She told me that she has known him since he was a little kid. She pressured me to think hard if I really wanted to move forward with reporting it. She told me that it would ruin his life and that he could lose his scholarship.
I was so disheartened that they didn't believe me. I dropped it and didn't continue to fight it. I didn't speak about it again until after I graduated Northeastern.
I was young and felt scared to contact the police. Maybe if this campaign was around then, I would've continued to fight. I have since been able to forgive both the person who did this to me and the people who didn't help me. However, it is really encouraging to know that a platform is being created to help people come forward and to effect policy changes."
(Alumni, 2011, Communication Studies)
“During my first week of college, I experienced sexual harassment which I then reported a little under a week later. I didn't want to give his name because I didn't want him to know I had reported the incident, but an officer convinced me to give his name for the sake of keeping accurate records. A few hours later, I found out they had spoken to him regarding my report without my consent and without letting me know ahead of time. However, my biggest issue with the process was in how many times I had to verbally repeat and reread reports of the incident. I spent hours talking about it, retelling it to various university personnel, and had to read and reread various reports that twisted my stomach. The process dragged on to the point that I felt it would be difficult to move on, since every time I thought my part of the process was over I was reminded of the details of the incident. Also, I was told that, if I felt uncomfortable, I would have to adjust my life so that it did not coincide with his. I have been told that the case has been submitted to OSCCR, but I have chosen to opt out of any additional involvement since the process to this point has been so emotionally draining.”
(19, Freshman, English/Communication Studies)
(19, Freshman, English/Communication Studies)
“I was groped at a party, but passed it off as something that ‘just happens’ and that the individual was just ‘too drunk.’”
(20, Sophomore, International Affairs)
(20, Sophomore, International Affairs)
“I was harassed at co-op by an older man asking me multiple times to take my clothes off for him because ‘I would look good naked.’”
(22, Junior, Health Science)
“One night after a party I went to a boys house and while we were hooking up he took pictures of me without my consent. I was lucky enough to catch him in the act and delete the pictures, but it was one of the most traumatic moments of my life.”
(20, Senior, Health Science)
“My freshman year of college I was drunk and hanging out with friends in the common room of my dorm building. I was being goofy and maybe a little messy, but was by no means too drunk to take care of myself or in need of medical help. One of my guy friends grabbed me by my wrist and said, ‘Alright I'm gonna go put her to bed.’ Despite my tipsy state, his statement alone immediately made me uncomfortable. I knew I didn't need help, and something about the situation was weird. But he was my friend, I wanted to believe he was trying to help me. So I let him drag me upstairs and use my ID card to key into my room. This was almost 3 years ago now, and I try not to think about it, so the details are a bit hazy. One way or another, his pants were down, his hard dick was out, and he was begging me to give him head. Even trying to bargain with me, saying if I sucked his dick he would leave. So I did. I didn't want to. I didn't like it. But I knew he was twice my size, he was sober, and I knew he had the upper hand. And all I wanted was for him to leave me alone. After he finished, he pulled his pants up and left.”
(21, Junior, Business)
(21, Junior, Business)
“I said something he didn't like so he pushed me up against a wall. He slapped me in the face and I cried. When I tried to leave he slammed me in the door, I had bruises but I hid them until they healed. People saw all of this, no one helped, no one even cared.”
(18, Freshman, Business)
“I was at a party drinking and the boy asked if I wanted to go home with him and I said no. He proceeded to get me more drunk, I just remember being in an Uber and small snapshots of the night, I just woke up the next morning with bruises all over my neck and body.”
(19, Sophomore, Nursing)
“He took the condom off without my consent, and then called me hysterical when I got mad.”
“It was the night after my 21st birthday. I was out at a bar with a few people I knew from my freshman year dorm. I hadn't had more than 2 drinks when the next thing I remembered was waking up, naked, next to a guy I only knew as my friends fraternity big. When I told him I didn't remember what had happened, he told me that because we knew each other he "knew I wanted to" and to think anything else would be "crazy." I never ended up telling anyone because I was worried people wouldn't believe me, especially since he was so well known throughout the greek life community. I later heard that this had happened to other girls as well. If I have one regret it's keeping it to myself and not protecting the girls after me who have been assaulted by this man.”
“Throughout my time at co-op, my male boss who was at least thirty years my senior would tell the other females on my team, and myself, that we were ‘prettier’ when we smiled, or if we wore our hair down, or put on makeup. The day of the presidential election, he pulled me aside to say that ‘feminism doesn't exist’ and ‘sexism is just a joke!’, making it clear that I should get these thoughts through my head if I ever wanted to be a successful woman in the workplace.”
(21, Senior, Political Science)
(21, Senior, Political Science)
“I was drunk at a party for my co-ed club sports team when my much larger male ‘friend’ and team member tried to force me to kiss him. When I said no and tried to get away from him, he physically assaulted me in front of most of the team and other guests who were there. I went home that night hysterical, but I couldn't verbalize what had happened to me to people who weren't there. Because I was so drunk the night before, I woke up only remembering how upset I was but didn't know why. That next morning, as my friends from the team told me what happened, I was shocked and upset. E-board members who were there informed me they were obligated to tell Club Sports, who then reported it to Northeastern PD and the Boston Police Department as well as Title IX.
That day, I had Northeastern PD and BPD in my dorm room filing reports and asking me questions about what had happened, when I hadn't even had time to process it myself or know if I wanted to press charges against the man who had done this. Northeastern PD sent a woman detective who flawlessly eased my concerns and provided many resources to me while also assuring me that I would be protected from my attacker with a no contact order through the university. BPD did not do any of that. I decided a few days later that I wanted to press charges through the university and not through BPD.
Title IX reached out to myself and witnesses who were there that night to interview us about what happened. They were so supportive of me, and they worked diligently to put an open and shut case together. A drawback to the Title IX system is how they interview and the questions they ask instead of just letting a survivor tell their story and then asking questions later. Another issue was how long the process took. I was assaulted Halloween weekend of 2016, and the case wasn't resolved until February of 2017. I had the no contact order in place and felt safe on campus, but until he was officially suspended from the university, I was anxious. During that time, memories of that night and what happened slowly started to come back to me and have kept trickling in since. I am lucky to have the support of a great family, friends, and teammates. I think a great resource that could be offered within a couple days of the assault is coaching on how to tell loved ones what happened, especially parents, because for me, that was the hardest part. The system set up at Northeastern dealing with sexual assault does have a few things it can improve on, but overall, it worked very well for me.”
(22, Senior, Nursing)
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“My Freshman year at Springfest two guys were groping me throughout the concert, grabbing my ass etc. They told me it was okay because they were Seniors and didn't stop even as I persisted. I felt powerless.”
(20, Junior, Communication Studies).
(20, Junior, Communication Studies).
“I have been sexually harassed at parties and on campus by other Northeastern students. I have been sexually assaulted at NU by another student my freshman year. I have never reported because I do not want my agency or autonomy taken away by the reporting process. I do not trust that the school would believe me, respect my wishes, or that justice would be done.”
(21, Senior, International Affairs)
(21, Senior, International Affairs)
“Right before Thanksgiving break in my freshman year, I was pretty drunk after spending the evening drinking with my friends in their dorm room, as freshmen do. My friend had also given me an edible which rendered me extremely intoxicated. When my guy friend invited me over to ‘see his dorm room and meet his roommate,’ no alarm bells went off: I was an unsuspicious freshmen, pretty inebriated, and I liked this guy. I thought we were friends. I had no interest in him romantically, but I talked to him every class and trusted him. His roommate left almost as soon as I got there and I remember feeling confused. At that point I was so drunk and high that I couldn't move. It almost felt like I was watching myself from outside my body, I was so intoxicated, and I was helpless to stop him as he started to kiss me and tried to have sex with me. He only stopped due to his own impotence, and it is only sheer dumb biological luck that I left mostly (physically) unharmed.
I have no idea how long I was there but as soon as I could I put my clothes back on and ran back to my friends' room, and sat on their floor in shock with my hands on my mouth unable to speak. No one could get a word out of me the rest of the night. I never reported the incident. I told my girlfriends the day after and they just asked me why I had been high. They couldn't believe I would take an edible. I felt so embarrassed by that and so worried about any repercussions for being drunk that I never contacted anyone from the administration, and never told anyone else. I did text the guy who assaulted me to tell him we weren't friends anymore because what he had done was wrong. He responded by saying he thought I had wanted it and he had no idea it wasn't consensual (even though I was totally unresponsive). The worst part is, I think that's actually true. I don't think he had any idea that what he did was wrong.”
(21, Junior, Communication Studies)
"When I was in high school, I was raped by the guy I took to prom. I had gone over to his house a week after prom thinking that he liked me and that a potential relationship was developing. He put on my favorite show and that was when he started kissing me. Next he tried to put his hands down my pants. I was a virgin, and this was not something I wanted to do. I asked him to stop and he didn't. I tried to get up to leave and he made me fall on the floor instead. This is when he ripped off my clothes and raped me.
From this experience, I began to experience PTSD which began to escalate when I got to Northeastern. I tried to go to UHCS and get help for my PTSD however they were unresponsive to my needs and kept pushing me around instead of giving me actual help. I am a survivor, and though things have been better for me now, the actions of the University to help me through this were appalling. #neutoo"
From this experience, I began to experience PTSD which began to escalate when I got to Northeastern. I tried to go to UHCS and get help for my PTSD however they were unresponsive to my needs and kept pushing me around instead of giving me actual help. I am a survivor, and though things have been better for me now, the actions of the University to help me through this were appalling. #neutoo"
"I met him after orientation and hung out with him and another guy at a bar that night. We got along well and I thought he would be a great friend. Later when it was late and cold and I was drunk, he didn't want to walk me home unless I let him sleep at my house. But my phone died so we ended up at his apartment where I charged my phone and eventually ubered home. At his invitation, I came back the next day to "chill." He violated my consent and whined until I gave him a handjob. I only left because I pretended I had to meet my mom, and I walked home through the snow alone, confused, and upset. In a text later that week he said we shouldn't talk anymore because I would be hurt to realize he didn't want a relationship. I had never told him what I wanted at all. He told me I was "prone to feeling used and discarded" because of my religious background that I had talked with him about. Other than what I texted back to defend myself, I took no action against him. Yet I wonder if I should have reported him in order to prevent this situation from happening to other girls or to prevent myself from feeling sick and self-harming when I saw him around campus a few months later."
(Female, 20 years old, third-year student)
"I experienced a really bad sexual assault earlier in the year that affected me very intensely and when I came forward to NEU and just wanted someone to talk to, it was automatically reported to the Title IX office. From there, it was reported to NUPD. I told my story multiple times within the week following the incident. NUPD really pressured me to give them the name of my abuser and go forward with formal charges, so I did. However, even though I had to tell my story right in front of him and many others, nothing came of it, and now I feel more lost. When I utilize UHCS counseling I feel like they don't really care and don't want to spend their time giving me support, and again I feel worse. A lot of the offices here have told me that they're here if I need something, but then I am either ignored or sent off to another department when I contact someone. I wish there was an ongoing professional support on campus where we could talk to someone whenever we need it but I have yet to meet someone like that. I just want someone to talk to sometimes."
"I heard my friend come home hysterically crying on a Saturday night that I had decided to stay in. I walked out of my room to see her, mascara running down her face. She had gone to a party where a guy who she thought was her friend was extremely drunk. He kept harshly grabbing her when no one was watching them, telling her to leave with him. She looked around mouthing the words "help" to people and managed to escape with the help of a friend. He texted her over thirty times throughout the night, demanding to know where she was and asking if he could come over. The next morning, she woke up with bruises on her arm from him and told me she didn't want to tell anyone because people wouldn't be able to see him acting like this and might not believe her."
“My friend was raped by someone he thought was his friend. He woke up to this man performing sexual acts on his unconscious body. He only told three of us. He was afraid to tell anyone else and only spoke of it once to us, never mentioning it again. I learned this same man had raped at least three other men in the past year at Northeastern, and was sent home by the university to take classes online. THIS is how Northeastern treats rapists. They allow them to still graduate with a degree and leave the university untouched. And they allow people like my friend to feel like they have no way to speak out against these criminals.”
“My freshman year of college, I met a boy off of a dating app, and went over to his place after getting dinner. I used the bathroom, and when I came back to his room, he was in his underwear, waiting for me. He approached me, and started to undress me. I was frozen, I couldn't move. He then proceeded to sexually assault me. I didn't say a single word, and didn't reciprocate a single action. I felt like I had blacked out. I got dressed, ubered back to campus, and cried. This was how I lost my virginity. I haven't spoken to anyone about this, because I have not yet told my family that I'm gay. I can't help feeling like everything is somehow my fault.”
"I got too drunk. My friends left me alone with him. He pulled me into a bedroom. I had no idea what was going on. I barely even remembered it, but the bruises said it all."