A Different Kind of Valentine's Day

I always had a love-hate relationship with Valentine’s Day. I was the kid in the elementary school class that never bought any of the other kids those valentines that say things like “Won’t You Bee Mine” with a cartoon bumblebee grinning on the front. But at the same time, I couldn’t help but be a little excited and downright flattered when people would give theirs to me. And of course, as a certified momma’s boy, I was always happy to give my mother something that I had bought or made for her. As I got older and first started dating, Valentine’s Day became a little more stressful. I didn’t see what the fuss was about, but I was sure whatever girl I happened to be dating at the time certainly did, and thus I trekked, regrettably, to the mall to purchase some inane gift with money that I’d saved.

As I’ve grown up though, my love-hate relationship with Valentine’s Day has faded away. Having actually been involved in a few meaningful relationships, I actually look forward to it because it is one of the only days set aside for us to think about our loved ones and how we can best express our true affection for them. For those of us who choose not to fall into the standard perfume, flowers, or candy routine, however, the quest for an expression of love and affection never ceases to be difficult. It was in the course of brainstorming for a gift that my mind started to drift, and I began to wonder—what do other guys get their significant others for Valentine’s Day? I thought of jewelry, electronics, and fancy dinners—and then an interesting thought came to me: What if everyone got their significant other the same thing for Valentine’s Day?

Admittedly this would be a silly concept if the gift were say, a red sweater; but not if the gift was something that reflected the true depths of affection that we have for our loved ones, something that could make a difference. Something like: educating ourselves about sexual violence and taking an active role in preventing it.

If you think about it, there are few things in the world today that hinder the growth of relationships and love, heterosexual or homosexual, like sexual violence. Even though we don’t hear much about sexual violence, which includes unwanted touching or penetration, it is something that is happening, to our friends, our lovers, and even some of us. The National College Women Sexual Victimization Study (2000) has estimated that between 1 in 4 and 1 in 5 college women experience completed or attempted rape during their college years, and it is estimated that between 80 to 90 percent of all sexual violence survivors know their attackers.

Despite this prevalence, sexual violence remains low in public profile, largely because it is one of the most underreported crimes in the U.S., with an estimated 84 percent of women not reporting their rapes to police (The National Women’s Study). Acts of sexual violence often lead to severe psychological and physical trauma in survivors that can manifest itself in a variety of mental and physical health hazards throughout these people’s lives—including depression, anxiety, and substance abuse.

Even beyond the direct pain inflicted on the survivor, a culture that tacitly condones sexual violence by treating survivors with undue skepticism or denigration and the issue itself with callous indifference creates an atmosphere that affects all of us. Women’s interactions with men are limited by the bounds of caution, as women are always at some level concerned with the possibility of sexual contact occurring against their will. Men are, by virtue of societal silence, left largely clueless as to how to start frank and honest conversation about sex, and occasionally find themselves in situations where they are crossing boundaries they would not have wanted to cross if only they had known how it made their partners feel. Thus, relationships (even those which are solely sexual) are often constrained by an intense fear and discomfort on both sides that finds its roots in the prevalence of sexual violence.

But beyond even the intimate relationship aspect, most men (or women for that matter) don’t know how to support survivors of sexual violence. How many of us would be equipped to deal with our mothers, sisters, friends, or lovers being sexually assaulted? How many of us would end up blaming them for it? How many of us would perceive them as “damaged” or “impure?” A lot of what drives the silence on sexual violence from all parties—from perpetrators, to survivors, to society-at-large—is this kind of treatment of survivors after an incident comes to light. So when rape accusations are brought up, the least we could do is not pass judgment on either side until all the facts are borne out.

But that is just one step. On this Valentine’s Day, it would be great if all the men at Harvard University took the step of talking to their friends, lovers, and others about sexual violence. We can educate ourselves about the effects of and statistics on sexual violence, and think about ways to reduce everyone’s risk of being involved in an incident. We can volunteer to help out at the Harvard Office of Sexual Assault Prevention and Response (OSAPR) or a local rape crisis center or join Harvard Men Against Rape. Any way we can, men need to get a dialogue going, both amongst ourselves and with women, about turning the tide against sexual violence.

I spoke with Susan Marine, director of the OSAPR last week, and she has long been ready to welcome us all with open arms: “For too long the solution of this problem has rested on the shoulders of women…Men are, and always have been, an important part of the solution, and we welcome anybody who is willing to help us make a difference.” So, with that said, what are you going to get your loved ones for Valentine’s Day?

Brandon M. Terry ’05 is a government and African and African American studies concentrator in Lowell House. His column appears on alternate Mondays.