Columbia student will carry her mattress until her rapist exits school
September 2, 2014
While most students at Columbia University will spend the first day of classes carrying backpacks and books, Emma Sulkowicz will start her semester on Tuesday with a far heavier burden. The senior plans on carrying an extra-long, twin-size mattress across the quad and through each New York City building – to every class, every day – until the man she says raped her moves off campus.
“I was raped in my own bed,” Sulkowicz told me the other day, as she was gearing up to head back to school in this, the year American colleges are finally, supposedly, ready to do something about sexual assault. “I could have taken my pillow, but I want people to see how it weighs down a person to be ignored by the school administration and harassed by police.”
Sulkowicz is one of three women who made complaints to Columbia against the same fellow senior, who was found “not responsible” in all three cases. She also filed a police report, but Sulkowicz was treated abysmally – by the cops, and by a Columbia disciplinary panel so uneducated about the scourge of campus violence that one panelist asked how it was possible to be anally raped without lubrication.
So Sulkowicz joined a federal complaint in April over Columbia’s mishandling of sexual misconduct cases, and she will will hoist that mattress on her shoulders as part savvy activism, part performance art. “The administration can end the piece, by expelling him,” she says, “or he can, by leaving campus.”
As painful as I know the constant reminder of attending school with her rapist must be, I’m glad she won’t be the only one forced to remember. I hope the rapist drops out immediately…or better yet, I hope he faces the justice he deserves.
The best place to be is somewhere else, Young Mee Rim
Bats illuminated by lightning
THIS IS WHAT LOVE LOOKS LIKE
Photo by @victorofvalencia #liveauthentic.
A man in the grocery store line today approached me and said, “Sir, when I first saw you I was extremely attracted to you, but then I noticed that you are a boy. How… I mean, why do you dress so provocatively?”
I responded, “Well, in today’s world the majority of the straight male race view women as objects, or something that belongs to them. I dress provocatively because it attracts the attention of men in a sexual and OBJECTIVE way. However, when realized that I am actually male, they often become confused, disgusted, upset or all of the above. By inflicting this minor emotional damaged upon the ego of a man raised by twisted societal gender norms, maybe, just maybe the individual will think twice before viewing another woman with an objective attitude and sense of belonging. No woman, belongs to ANYONE. Male or female, the equality of human beings needs to be a priority. It is something worth dressing up for.”
I AM NOT KIDDING. The woman behind me, the female cashier, the old lady bagging groceries and the woman in front of me who was talking on the phone STOPPED, …. and proceeded to gasp and clap. The man shook my hand, told me to have a blessed day and then said, “excuse me ladies, I need to visit my daughter.”
…. I was shaking by the time I walked out of the store.
- Elliott Alexzander
Banff, Alberta | Kenneth Huang
Thích Nhất Hạnh (via purplebuddhaproject)
No Gods No Masters No Tampons patch by Fiona Avocado“
What To Do When Your Boyfriend’s Asshole Best Friend Says, “Hey, Never Trust Anything That Bleeds For Seven Days And Doesn’t Die,
OR The Only Poem I’ll Ever Write About Periods.
Don’t excuse him because he’s had
at least three lite beers
and is sweating through his black button down
that his mom or exgirlfriend
probably bought him.
Don’t excuse him because he’s been turned down
by the last six girls he went on dates with
after meeting them on tindr
with a picture that’s seven years old
Don’t excuse him because
he’s usually such a nice guy
because you don’t want to be a bitch
because you don’t want to cause a scene
because when you were seventeen
your sister told you
no one likes an angry feminist
Let me explain something to you.
Every goddamn motherfucking month since I was eleven,
a part of me
tore itself to shreds
ripped itself apart inside me
and then remade itself.
So yes, I bleed for seven days
and I don’t die
You know what else can do that?
Things of legend.
Fuck, I can even
So I say, never trust anything that can’t
bleed for seven days and not die.
You know what that makes it?
So let’s see, hon,
What you’re made of.
If you can bleed for seven days
and not die.
Rip out his jugular with your teeth.”
And when he bleeds for seven seconds
spit on his corpse and say,
I thought not.
— Katherine Tucker (via cathwey)
are you a boy? your clothes are boy clothes.
are you a girl? your clothes are girl clothes.
are you outside the binary of boy and girl? so are your clothes.
did someone just tell you your clothes don’t match your gender identity? they are a trashcan and their clothes are trashcan clothes.