Consent Isn’t Optional By The Way

This article discusses sensitive matters such as sexual assault. For survivor resources, visit End Rape On Campus.

September 18th, 2026: it became public that in 2024, “Jane Doe” had been drugged and raped by seven members of Cornell’s chapter of the Chi Pi fraternity in their house. Jane Doe reported what happened to her to Cornell University police, doing the “right” thing as a victim by society’s standards. Despite this, Cornell officials only expelled two of the rapists. The other’s punishments, though slightly varied according to reports, were suspensions and writing an essay. An activity that can be completed in under an hour— less time than perpetrators spent committing the assault. Not only did the actual crime last longer than the punishment, but the consequence for their behavior cannot be measured in some measly paper. Doe will have to live with what was done to her for the rest of her life.

The only reason that we know anything about this is because Doe is suing in civil court on her own— because after her report, the university did not pursue a criminal investigation. The full disturbing details of the case can be read online, and bear in mind that this is now an active investigation, so more will continue to unfold over the coming months. Today, I am here to discuss the systemic issues that this case highlights.

This is not the first campus assault suit to go viral. In 2015, The People of California v. Turner garnered national international media attention due to not only the details of the case, but Chanel Miller’s (previously referred to as Emily Doe) powerful victim impact statement, first published at Buzzfeed. In her memoir Know My Name, Miller details the numerous ways Stanford University failed her after she reported her assault, including abandoning her wellbeing afterwards, as well as “creating the conditions” for her assault. After public blowback to the university, Stanford offered to pay for Miller’s therapy— on the condition that she would not bring litigation to the university. Stanford was not afraid of the damage they have done to Chanel Miller, the person. Stanford was afraid of the damage that Chanel Miller, in telling her story, would do to their reputation. I shame them for it. In the near decade since, colleges have not made any corrections to improving student safety— in fact many, such as Cornell, are instead doubling down to protect abusers. 

The bottom line is: women are not safe on college campuses. The Department of Justice reports that one in five women experience sexual assault while in college. Over fifty percent of those occur during The Red Zone, the period from the beginning of the year through Thanksgiving break. The fact twenty percent of student sexual assault cases get reported is likely a dramatic under-report due to lack of education and safe spaces on campus. Many universities do not invest enough in the preventative measures that would save them a whole lot in wrongful conduct lawsuits. Training on consent, bystander intervention, education on victim blaming rhetoric, and a no-tolerance policy of rape culture present on campus. These can prevent sexual assaults, and if an assault does occur, provide survivors access to several different types of support whether they wish to report or not. A supportive school can drastically alter the experience of a survivor after a sexual assault. Their world has just been shaken to its core. They should not have to fight for their trauma to be treated appropriately; that should not be their burden to bear. 

Bowling Green prides itself on “student experience”, but I have to ask: whose experience? The university’s Title IX policies are not survivor centered. After a successful No Contact Order, the survivor is still the one that must move dorms, change classes, and not attend club meetings. The survivor should not have to submit themselves to retraumatization in the hopes that their assaulter may face some material consequences. Often survivors are the ones who feel punished for reporting, as it is their lives that are afflicted the most: from emotional trauma, and then the “accommodations.” Me having to change my movements doesn’t feel like safety. It feels like shame. 

Right now, I keep coming back to my anger. I am so mind-numbingly angry, that I fear that I will destroy myself. Instead, it has to be channeled outwards. I am angry that universities foster rape culture on campuses, often through institutions like fraternities, and then shrug off the responsibility when something awful happens. I am angry at every person that knew what was going to happen to Jane Doe— that knew what was happening, and did nothing. I am angry at the university officials who decided that they would let young men get away with catastrophic harm. I am angry that this is not the first time rape has happened, and that it is not the last. I am angry with myself. As if something I did could have stopped it. 

This anger, however, is sprouting from an overwhelming amount of love, and that is what I will ground myself in. Love for myself, knowing that I deserve better. Love for the women around me, and my strong desire to protect them from harm. We have to love each other to save each other. We cannot let this destroy us. 

To the institutions that protect awful men: Fuck you. You are a business above all, but I also give you my money. I also pay tuition. I have just as much right to be on campus and enjoy student engagement. Survivors should not have to shrink their lives to avoid their abusers. Just as, when five of her abusers were still allowed on campus in dining halls, classrooms, on green spaces, Jane Doe should be allowed a refund when she does not wish to engage in your services anymore. 

To the “good guys”: There were fifty seven men in a Snapchat group chat that knew what was happening to Jane Doe. Not one of them reported it. They may not have raped her, but she still got raped. They are also responsible. Call out your friends, their jokes aren’t funny! Step in if someone seems too drunk, or is unconscious. Stop your friends from harassing people at parties, or on the street. Chanel Miller’s rape was stopped because two bicyclist intervened. They held her rapist down until the police arrived. You also have access to BGSU’s See It Hear It Report It. If you want women’s trust, you have to earn it by being active in shutting down rape culture. 

To everyone: We could not, and still cannot trust our institutions to protect us. We have to keep each other safe. This means walking each other home, sticking together at parties. This also means educating yourself and the people you share spaces with. Consent is complicated and should be understood thoroughly. Pressuring someone into intimacy is a form of assault. Bribery, begging, guilt tripping, even as a “joke,” is a form of sexual violence. Consent is not assumed, and it is not our responsibility to revoke it. It is the responsibility of the person who wants to engage in intimacy to gauge if the situation is appropriate, ask clearly, and accept “no” for an answer the first time. We are still in the Red Zone. Even after that time period passes, it is still important to take care of yourself and others.

To Jane Doe, and others like her: My heart is breaking for you, and I am so proud of you. This strength shouldn’t have to be necessary, but I am deeply grateful that you possess it. You did not deserve what happened to you. No matter what anybody says, it was not your fault. I see you. I hear you. I believe you. We are standing with you, and we will not stop.