Our Bodies, Our Dignity, Not Up for Debate

Awa Sallah

When a student at Cornell University accuses seven men, Jonathan Newell, Matthew Ingalls, Winston Lee, Gillio Lopes, Diego Sarabia, Scott Norris and Scott Kretzschmar, of sexually assaulting her in a single night, you would expect the university to respond with the seriousness, compassion and accountability the allegations should demand. But unfortunately, the actions reportedly taken were to expel two of the men, suspend another two, ban one who had already graduated from campus and require the remaining two to complete educational modules and write reflection papers.

Is that enough?

What message does this send to the alleged victim? What does it tell the other students who trust their university to protect them? And what does it say to the countless women in this country who are victims of sexual assault?

If you ask me, I would say the message is clear: Your safety does not matter!

This case is about much more than one student and seven men. It raises serious questions about accountability, responsibility and how society responds to sexual assault. Most importantly, it brings an unsettling question to women across this country: Am I safe? Am I believed?

It is a troubling question to ask in the first place. No one should have to live in fear that their sexual autonomy will be violated. Consent should never be something you can just assume, and sexual assault should never be excused because someone is intoxicated. Being sober or intoxicated does not determine whether a person deserves bodily autonomy and respect.

And yes, it is important to acknowledge that no criminal trial has established the guilt of the seven men accused in this case. The accused have denied wrongdoing. But for a moment, let's go beyond the question of whether they're guilty of sexual assault and talk about the morality of the situation.

Let's consider the reported group chat messages. According to reports, one fraternity member, while engaging in sexual activity with the woman, sent a message using degrading language to announce that a woman upstairs was available for sex in a group chat of more than 50 fraternity members. The lawsuit alleges that several other men subsequently entered the room.

Let's sit with that for a second.

It is not fair to assume that all of them saw the messages, but it is also fair to question whether at least a couple of them saw and did not speak up, except for one who allegedly showed Jane Doe the message the next morning.

What I find most disturbing is the possibility that so many of the men in that chat had an opportunity to question what was happening, intervene or alert someone, yet that opportunity was not taken. If the reports that only one fraternity brother showed Jane Doe the messages are accurate, then why didn't the other men who potentially saw them do or say anything?

As a society, we have learned to choose silence over discomfort. Too often, harmful attitudes and actions go unchallenged because people continue to look the other way and excuse deviant behaviors. It has become far too normalized in every aspect of our society to ignore the harmful things that are happening in front of us.

I believe I speak for many women when I say that we are tired. Tired of questioning our safety, tired of wondering whether we will be believed and tired of feeling like our dignity and bodily autonomy do not matter.

We should not have to keep asking whether our safety matters. And we should never have to wonder whether our bodies will be respected, whether we're intoxicated or not.