By Alexandria Malone

At the end of the last spring semester, a few members of the Latino Student Advisory Board were sitting in the Latino Research Center having a conversation after one of our meetings. The conversation varied widely, jumping from gossip to national issues. Of the latter, we discussed the recently released Department of Education report that listed universities with Title IX violations for their handling of rape and sexual harassment complaints.

Frankly, we all marveled that our university hadn’t been identified in the investigation; not because of any ill will we have toward our school, but because we all knew multiple people at UNR who have been raped or experienced some form of sexual assault which is defined by the Department of Justice as “any type of sexual contact or behavior that occurs without the explicit consent of the recipient.” We all knew the statistics: according to the Rape, Abuse and Incest National Network, college-aged women are four times more likely to be a victim of sexual assault. These women are far more likely to be raped by someone they know than by a stranger and only 2 percent of rapists serve any jail time.

Each of the four women in that room, including myself, told a story of being touched inappropriately and against our consent, followed down the street, verbally harassed as we tried to ignore often obscene advances. These stories were so numerous that these violations seemed to be a matter of course in our lives. Then, one of the women, who will not be named in this piece, began describing her rape.

She told us how she was raped by a friend of a cousin she was staying with at the time and how alcohol had played a part in her assault, as it does in at least 50 percent of college students’ sexual assaults. She described the post-traumatic stress, which manifested itself in panic attacks when she saw her rapist again. One thing that she did not describe was going to the police to report her rape. While she felt the fear of retribution from her attacker that is common in rape victims, she was more concerned of the implications and judgments from her family.

Latina women, especially immigrants, face unique challenges in dealing with sexual violence. Statistics regarding sexual assaults among Latina women are sparse and contradictory. For example, a National Violence Against Women survey showed that Hispanic women are less likely than non-Hispanic women to report being raped, but are equally or more likely to report being stalked or physically assaulted by an intimate partner. This discrepancy in reporting can be explained by the cultural pressures that surround women in Latino culture.

Many sources that report instances of sexual assault express the common belief that, in communities of color, many factors lead to under-reporting and the failure to seek out services. These factors include religious beliefs, fear of alienation and rejection by family, loyalty to one’s race and culture, distrust in law enforcement and intervention services and the deference of an individual’s needs to that of family honor and unity.

In the Latino culture especially, strictly enforced gender roles and falsely held beliefs about rape victims lead to a greater likelihood that when a woman is sexually assaulted, she will do nothing. In conservative Latino families, women are given the role of caretaker from an early age. The pinnacle of womanhood is achieved by being a wife and mother, observing traditional family structures and religious laws. These “Madonnas” have been stripped of their sexual identities, save for the assumption that this identity does not exist before she is married.

Of course, many modern Latino families are not so severe in these traditional beliefs. However, remnants of these conservative social ideals still have a strong influence on Latinos. Therefore when a woman is sexually assaulted, victim blaming is a common reaction: why would you put yourself in that situation? Were you being too flirty? Was your outfit too provocative? These implied doubts make it more likely for Latinas to believe rape myths, such as rape victims are promiscuous or “asking for it.”

As Latinos, we need to use our cultural and familial strengths to show solidarity with victims of sexual assault. There is a reluctance to discuss private matters with outsiders, so we don’t go to police or counselors. It’s more polite to pretend that nothing happened.

We need to create spaces in which a woman feels safe to divulge her sexual assault. We need to stop perpetuating the myth that women who are sexually assaulted behaved in a way that explains it away. We need to stop blaming women for their sexuality, simultaneously shaming them if they willingly express it or if it is violated.

Regardless of age or race, women who are sexually assaulted are three times more likely to suffer from depression, six times more likely to suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder and four times more likely to contemplate suicide. Yet only 16 percent of students who are sexually assaulted receive assistance services, according to the Department of Justice.

Please, if you or someone you know has been sexually assaulted, seek help.

Crisis Call Center, Sexual Assault Support Services:

(775) 784-8090

National Sexual Assault Hotline:

(800) 656-HOPE (4673)

UNR Counseling Services:

(775) 784-4648

Alexandria Malone studies business. She can be reached at danielcoffey1113@gmail.com and on Twitter @TheSagebrush.