Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: TUESDAY, October 11, 1994 TAG: 9410110101
SECTION: CURRENT PAGE: NRV-2 EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY
SOURCE: Kathy Loan
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
Everyone has a story to pitch, a cause to promote. After a while you begin to be skeptical of everyone's motivations, even when they may have the best of intentions.
So I admit that when I first scanned the crowd that turned out for Radford University's "Take Back the Night" rally last week, my first inclination was that all the men there - many waving fraternity flags and wearing Greek letters - couldn't possibly really care about the problems of rape, assault and battery.
Hey, it was a gathering: There was music and soft drinks and lots of other students around. A time to mingle, to socialize, to be seen, I figured.
Wrong!
Sure there were a few eyes rolled skyward as organizers tried to get the students ready to rally, but a few women seemed to be doing the same thing. I later decided it came from a nervousness of speaking out as about 600 students began to march up Fairfax, down Second Avenue and back to campus. Event organizers at first had to coax groups to yell out the chants that had been prepared. How, I wondered, can we expect people to say "No!" to sexual assailants if they don't even feel comfortable yelling in a crowd where everyone is being encouraged to do so?
But as the throng rounded Downey Street, the mood had changed. Voices lifted high, and the groups had several different chants going as they passed stopped traffic on Tyler Avenue.
And often it was the men who were leading the chants.
"Out of the houses into the streets, no more women raped and beat."
"Date rape happens everywhere. Radford students, be aware," women and men called out in unison.
Judy Casteele, a counselor with the Women's Resource Center of the New River Valley, said 23 Radford University women sought help last year from the center after being raped, sexually assaulted or battered. Already this year, eight students have sought help, she said.
The culmination of the evening was yet to come - as well as my rebirth of belief in human compassion - as the marchers regrouped at Heth Plaza. Betty Jones, Radford's substance abuse and sexual assault prevention coordinator, announced the rules for a speak-out, where victims are encouraged to come to an open microphone and share their stories. Anyone who couldn't support them, Jones said, should leave.
People stayed. Including those men I at first had dismissed as not genuinely caring.
They clapped as women - and men - sometimes timidly walked to the microphone, gulped upon seeing the crowd, then told their stories.
One woman told how she lost her virginity to her boyfriend after he decided it was time for them to consummate their relationship.
"I said 'no' and I pushed him and he hit me and he raped me and no I don't forgive him," she said. "No means no. Don't ever let anybody tell you any different."
Some speakers came to the microphone in pairs, arms linked. They spoke of purple ribbons they were wearing, with knots tied for each person they knew who had been a victim of sexual assault or battery.
"I want to say something for my brother," another woman said. "He's not a 4-foot nerd. He's big, he's cool and he's hot. And this knot is for him."
She urged fraternity members and other men to "try to cut down on the jokes and all the things you say about women."
More than one survivor admitted being drunk when assaulted, but each reminded the crowd that was no excuse for their attackers not taking no for an answer.
But one of the most to-the-point messages came from a young man whose mother was raped. He has a sister starting college and he fears for her safety, he said.
"You guys: control yourselves. That's all I have to say."
by CNB