Taking Back the Night

This evening I spoke at Emory University's Respect Program and the Alliance for Sexual Assault Prevention's Take Back the Night Speak Out Rally. Here is what I said:

I am Allegra Knight, a Masters student at Candler School of Theology and I am a survivor.

 

When I started my Master’s program at Candler School of Theology at the age of 38, I never imagined that I would end up a victim of sexual assault by a classmate. The term “victim” is usually frowned upon but I wear it with pride. I refuse to cower or feel shame and I encourage anyone who has been assaulted to follow my lead.

I was raised by a single mother who ingrained in me strength and independence. I went to all female schools (high school and college) where we were taught how to protect ourselves. But after my divorce, I was left broken and vulnerable and even with this proper training, I still ended up with a classmate—a friend—trying to rape me and stalking me.

For months I allowed an emotionally abusive relationship to continue which culminated in him attempting to force penetration against my will. Since he had previously ignored my requests to leave me alone, I figured out how to block him via phone, text message, and online media so that even if he tried he would be unable to contact me. Despite these steps, he came to my front door uninvited on a Saturday night at 11pm, which I responded to by calling the police, who advised me to file a restraining order against him in order to protect myself. The officer hit me hard with a case of “scared straight”. He explained that this was a man who does not understand “no” and this would not stop. I saw two paths in front of me: one where I stand up and protect myself or the other where I become a statistic on the news.

I had to navigate the complicated bureaucratic systems both at Candler and within Dekalb County. I had to talk about the intimate details of my sex life with Candler’s Dean of Students and the Registrar. I went through the court system and got a restraining order against my attacker. I could not have done this without the support of my friends. The experience left me wanting to crawl under my covers never to return. But somehow, when we are on the verge of giving up, Providence steps in and catches us before we fall. My friends were there to support me; they held me up when my legs failed. Reach out to your friends, they will still love you and support you.

The more I talked about my experience, the more I learned that I was not alone. And that is why we are here today with the intention of removing the stigma of being a victim. My friend Miranda (who has twice been a victim of date rape) was so inspirational; she told me that she feels called to tell her story, so that women realize that this is not our shame to bear but that this shame belongs to our attackers. I reiterate: this is his shame, not mine. I already knew that if I did nothing and he attacked another woman that would be on my head, but after talking with Miranda I realized that I must speak up publicly about what happened; I am called to be a role model for other women. I must speak up loudly and with strength. 

I stand tall… as a victim.

How far we come in a year.

It was this week a year ago that I was in a self imposed hell—swept away in an abusive relationship that I refused to find the strength to leave… until it was almost too late. Everyone around me could see the abyss I was heading towards but I refused to listen to their sage advice; instead I allowed myself to be controlled as if he were Orpheus, playing the strings of my emotions. Mindlessly I followed him as he pushed and pulled me, this way and that, almost as if he was trying the limits of cruelty I would withstand.

When he tried to rape me, I was able to fight him off and he then broke up with me. I was crushed but somewhere from the bottom of the wreckage, I screamed, “No more! Never again.” He didn’t believe me and continued to try to draw me back into his abusive games, but with the strength loaned to me from my support system, I found the strength to resist.

I spent months healing, protecting myself, and fighting to prevent this from happening to anyone else. Then, when I least expected it, I found healthy love—possibly for the first time in my life. I went from the lowest point in human relations to where I am growing and becoming better at communication, giving/accepting support, and trust.

Would I choose to go through that again? No, but I receive solace knowing how I turned it around to make myself a better person and to help others.

My gratitude abounds!

My story from last year: Standing Tall as a Victim

Striking a Balance

Here I am in a fairly traditional seminary with a faith that is difficult to sum up, let alone categorize, which looks very different from the main party line here.

I knew going in that I did not fit the traditional mold; I took this on with intention, for many reasons. One being that my background is in social justice; I always felt like a poser telling others that being part of a minority is a livable situation when I, as a middle class white woman, had never truly been part of a minority. I wanted to see what it felt like to be in the minority. Another was that I wanted a school where issues of faith did not have to be bracketed out completely but still had a strong academic base.

In the last week or so, I have found myself removing my foot from my mouth as quickly as I can take the other one out. I try to engage my classmates from a place of respect. I know their faith looks different from mine. I know that I am very strong in my faith and that it can withstand questioning and contradiction. For these reasons, when entering into a conversation that could potentially involve contentious issues, I always give them the higher ground and do not challenge where they are. It seems that I am doing my classmate a disservice for a couple of reasons. First is, they are not seeing the full me- but a shadow cast on the wall for fear of directing my light directly at them. The second is, I am not allowing them the opportunity to grow. I’m not saying that I have all the answers, or that having a conversation with me will bring instant enlightenment; but what if I am “protecting” them from an experience they need to have?? That would be awfully selfish of me.

The issue that continues to rear its head recently is sex. I have been married twice, so yes, I have had sex. But that is not the issue here; what is the issue is talking about sex, which I am very comfortable doing. I understand that many of my classmates do not condone premarital sex; that is their belief and I respect that. One particular classmate was very troubled by a conversation I was having about a biological occurrence in men- I was trying to learn more about what their experience is like. Later I apologized to the uncomfortable classmate and let him know that I understand that he is in a very different faith place than I am, that I respect that place and that I would endeavor to show that respect in my conversations in his presence going forward.

So today I was talking about all this with another classmate who also finds herself in the minority and she (so wisely) pointed out: why do we have to always tone down who we are to fit in the mold?? Why can’t people accept us as we are? Meet us where we are instead of the reverse? She confessed that she felt almost like she was putting on act- not being true to herself. Her words resonated with me. Engraved on the inside of my pinky ring is, “Keep true to thyself.” I don’t feel that I wasn’t keeping true to myself, but even dimming the light some can lead to extinguishing it all together. Her words were my wake up call.

All these questions are rhetorical- I don’t know the answer. I doubt there is a correct answer. I do know that I will continue to stumble through life, only opening my mouth to switch feet. I honestly mean no disrespect. All I ask is that you extend me Grace.