Here's How You Can Help Stop A Sexual Assault Before It Happens

(Photo: )
(Photo: )

Earlier this year, a woman named Jackie Fuchs reached out to The Huffington Post saying that she was ready to come forward with a secret she had lived with most of her life: When she was 16 and the bassist for the Runaways -- going then by the name Jackie Fox -- she was raped by the rock band's creator in front of several bandmates (including Joan Jett) and a handful of hangers-on.

She was coming forward, Fuchs said, to help change the culture and conversation around sexual assault, to let women and girls know that, even in the face of the Rolling Stone story debacle, it was OK to speak out. Just as importantly, she had come to think of those who saw her being raped not as accidental accomplices in a horrific crime, but as victims themselves.

HuffPost spoke with a number of those bystanders, and they confirmed Fuchs' suspicion that they, too, were haunted by the experience. (You can read their stories in this week's HuffPost Highline feature, "The Lost Girls.") A growing body of research also shows that Fuchs' insight has real merit: Witnesses to sexual assault often carry that burden with them, and rethinking the role of bystanders could help prevent future assaults.

The current approach to rape prevention -- telling men and boys that no means no and warning women not to get too drunk -- has been failing for years, as the former feel as if they're being treated like rapists and the latter feel unfairly blamed. “Most people are not pro-rape -- that’s not our problem,” said Dr. Dorothy Edwards. “Most people are fundamentally good and want this to stop.”

Love HuffPost? Become a founding member of HuffPost Plus today.

After becoming director of the University of Kentucky’s Violence Intervention and Prevention Center in 2005, Edwards began looking at public health and the role of the bystander as a way to reframe how we talk about rape prevention. The majority of her students were not rapists or victims, but they found themselves in situations where intervening could prevent an act of sexual violence or gender bullying. Her students didn’t need to feel guilty, Edwards realized. They needed tools on how to be better bystanders.

When she started her work, Edwards said she wasn't prepared to hear the stories of people who had witnessed sexual violence and failed to act. Now, she said, “Hardly a training doesn’t go by when six or seven people come up to me at the end and say, ‘That was me. I have carried this my whole life, I know what I did and I could have stopped it.’”

Edwards found that people aren't sure how to respond when witnessing a potential sexual assault, especially when other people are standing around as well. Add in prevalent myths about rape, the presence of drugs and alcohol, and the need to read complicated social cues, and it can be hard to know how or when to intervene. Bystanders sometimes don’t even know what they’re looking at.

Last year, Sarah Nicksa, an assistant professor of criminal justice at Widener University, published a study comparing bystanders’ responses to three scenarios -- a physical assault, a theft and a sexual assault. Participants were least likely to intervene in the sexual assault.

"Sexual assaults in college settings often occur in alcohol-infused situations, such as parties or get-togethers," said Nicksa in an email. "Sexual assaults and rapes are often not considered 'real rapes' by victims, friends, family, or the criminal justice system unless they involved force, violence, and were committed by a stranger with a weapon. So when a bystander is aware of a sexual assault, they may not see it as a problem or an emergency, due to the social norms of their group and setting. They may look around for cues to see if others define it as an emergency, and seeing none, do nothing."

Dr. Victoria Banyard, a psychology professor at the University of New Hampshire who studies the effectiveness of rape prevention programs, said that educating future bystanders is critical. “People are watching what’s going on and they are not labeling it a problem,” she said. “Or they are starting to feel it’s a problem but they are not sure they are the ones to do anything about it. Or they get to a point where they are worried about their own safety.”

Edwards founded the nonprofit Green Dot, etc., based on the idea that teaching young people to better anticipate at-risk situations is key. Her aim is to figure out direct and indirect methods of intervention and to develop a peer culture in which rape prevention is normalized.

On a basic level, when a student makes a sexist remark, for example, a peer can call that person out. Or in the scenario that comes up most often during trainings, students can help a female friend who has gotten drunk and is in danger of being taken advantage of. In those situations, they are taught how to intervene in ways that can be non-confrontational, employing tactics such as creating a distraction -- telling the would-be assailant, for instance, that his car is being towed. Or persuading the woman to come with them instead of going with him. Or staying close to her until the guy gives up and moves on. The key is getting students to rely on their own resourcefulness to become smarter bystanders.

We recently mentioned the new focus on bystanders to a Washington, D.C., political operative, and she recalled an experience that suggests the approach's potential. She was out with friends and noticed a young woman nearly passed out on the bar, while someone else circled furtively around. He eventually helped the woman out of the bar. Our bystander, who'd been watching the scene unfold and growing increasingly concerned, followed them out. On the sidewalk, she told the man that if he tried to leave with the woman, she'd call the police. The guy walked off, leaving the woman on the sidewalk, oblivious to the assault she might have just avoided.

In her first year running a bystander program, Edwards trained a little more than 10 people. By the time she left the University of Kentucky to run Green Dot full time, she was training 3,500 student volunteers enrolled in her six-hour sessions. Roughly 45 percent of those students were men. Edwards said there are now Green Dot programs across the country and in every military branch.

Programs such as Green Dot, Bringing In the Bystander, and Coaching Boys Into Men have begun to show results. A recent five-year study funded by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention found 50 percent reductions in sexual violence in Kentucky high schools that implemented Green Dot.

“The findings of that study were strong,” said Dr. Sarah DeGue, a behavioral scientist in the CDC’s violence prevention division. But she added that more studies need to be done. “We don’t know whether the effects we are seeing there were caused by Green Dot,” she said.

Last year, the White House joined in with the launch of a bystander awareness campaign, “It’s On Us.”

Researchers tend to compare the bystander message to successful public health policies like condom distribution for HIV prevention. Dr. Elizabeth Miller, chief of the division of adolescent and young adult medicine at the Children’s Hospital of Pittsburgh of the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center, compares it to designated driver campaigns.

“It’s not saying, 'You are the problem,'” explained Miller, who has published research on bystander education. “It taps into a sense of generosity and sense of connectedness.”

'Full Battle Rattle'

Rebekah Havrilla, out on patrol in Afghanistan. The former Army sergeant and Explosive Ordnance Disposal specialist enlisted in 2004, seeking out job training, education, "some patriotic element" after 9/11 and a way out of South Carolina.  "I went in with the idea of making a career out of it," she says. "I thought, I can't be Special Forces, I can't do Rangers because I don't have a penis -- closest thing I can get to actually doing that type of job is EOD [Explosive Ordnance Disposal]."

Shot Hole

Havrilla crouches in the remnants of a "demolition shot" she and her team did of a "bunch of captured enemy munitions" outside of Forward Operating Base Gardez, in Afghanistan.  "It's a very male dominated, hypermasculine environment, so you've got to be the tomboy, kind of, 'let's play cowboys and indians. And soldiers,'" she says.   But to some, this also meant persistent sexual harassment and even assault.

Rebekah Havrilla

Havrilla says intense nightmares kept her from sleep, night after night, after she got back from Afghanistan -- until recently, when she moved to New York.   Though Havrilla says that at first she suffered from the kind of hyper-vigilance described by fellow combat veterans in urban settings, she loves the city -- namely because it is so different than where she grew up, in a conservative Christian family in rural South Carolina.  She is getting her Masters and working for the Service Women's Action Network (SWAN).

Tia Christopher

An early photo of Tia Christopher, who joined the Navy at age 18 in 2000 and was out just under a year later, honorably discharged with a "personality disorder."
An early photo of Tia Christopher, who joined the Navy at age 18 in 2000 and was out just under a year later, honorably discharged with a "personality disorder."

Women Veterans

Tia Christopher and her friend Aston Tedford at a women veterans retreat in Arizona several years ago.   Christopher now works as an advocate for veterans, in particular victims of MSA, and has written guidance on the subject.
Tia Christopher and her friend Aston Tedford at a women veterans retreat in Arizona several years ago. Christopher now works as an advocate for veterans, in particular victims of MSA, and has written guidance on the subject.

Jungle

Tia Christopher in a favorite photo.
Tia Christopher in a favorite photo.

'I'm Beautiful Despite The Flames'

Tia Christopher sent this photo of her recently completed tattoo Friday, Sept. 28. Written in Arabic, she says "her motto" -- which covers scars from her assault -- more literally translates: "Despite the flames that devoured my flesh, I am still beautiful."
Tia Christopher sent this photo of her recently completed tattoo Friday, Sept. 28. Written in Arabic, she says "her motto" -- which covers scars from her assault -- more literally translates: "Despite the flames that devoured my flesh, I am still beautiful."

Tia Christopher

Balloons

Claire Russo in a childhood photo.
Claire Russo in a childhood photo.

Claire & Coconut

Claire Russo pictured at 10 years old, in 1989 with "Coconut."   Russo grew up near Washington, D.C., and worked on the Hill.  "I was sort of -- well no, a really privileged middle-class kid," she says. "I was just fascinated with the debate, and the decisions the government was making … And I remember a very strong desire to serve."
Claire Russo pictured at 10 years old, in 1989 with "Coconut." Russo grew up near Washington, D.C., and worked on the Hill. "I was sort of -- well no, a really privileged middle-class kid," she says. "I was just fascinated with the debate, and the decisions the government was making … And I remember a very strong desire to serve."

Claire Russo Salutes Her Cousin

Claire Russo in 2004 at Quantico, right after being commissioned, saluting her cousin Tom Winkle, a Navy lieutenant and pilot.   Russo lived with Winkle in San Diego, and was with him the night of her assault, at the Marine Corps Ball.   It was Winkle that reported Russo's assault; she did not want to report, being afraid for her career.
Claire Russo in 2004 at Quantico, right after being commissioned, saluting her cousin Tom Winkle, a Navy lieutenant and pilot. Russo lived with Winkle in San Diego, and was with him the night of her assault, at the Marine Corps Ball. It was Winkle that reported Russo's assault; she did not want to report, being afraid for her career.

Basic School

Claire Russo (right) with her roommate at The Basic School in Quantico, Va., after finishing a field exercise.    Russo says that one of the 30 females in the class of 180 was raped in the barracks while she was at The Basic School.
Claire Russo (right) with her roommate at The Basic School in Quantico, Va., after finishing a field exercise. Russo says that one of the 30 females in the class of 180 was raped in the barracks while she was at The Basic School.

Fallujah Courtyard

Claire Russo in a courtyard in Fallujah, Iraq, in 2006, when she served as the targeting officer for the 1st Marine Expeditionary Force. She deployed two weeks after testifying at the discharge hearing of the serviceman who raped her, Douglas Alan Dowson -- he was already in prison.
Claire Russo in a courtyard in Fallujah, Iraq, in 2006, when she served as the targeting officer for the 1st Marine Expeditionary Force. She deployed two weeks after testifying at the discharge hearing of the serviceman who raped her, Douglas Alan Dowson -- he was already in prison.

'Citizen Of Courage'

Claire Russo (front) salutes the flag during the national anthem, before she was given the "Citizen of Courage" award from the San Diego District Attorney's office in 2006.   Behind her is San Diego District Attorney Bonnie Dumanis and First Marine Expeditionary Force (IMEF) Commanding General John Sattler, who Russo says is the "only commander to ever apologize to me for what I experienced."

Russo And San Diego DAs

Deputy District Attorney Gretchen Means, Claire Russo and District Attorney Bonnie Dumanis, after Russo received the "Citizens of Courage" award from the San Diego District Attorney's office at Camp Pendleton in 2006.
Deputy District Attorney Gretchen Means, Claire Russo and District Attorney Bonnie Dumanis, after Russo received the "Citizens of Courage" award from the San Diego District Attorney's office at Camp Pendleton in 2006.

Down The Aisle

Claire Russo at her wedding to Josh Russo.   Lt. Josh Russo was stationed at Camp Pendleton, some 40 miles north, at the time of Russo's assault in 2004. He remains in the military.
Claire Russo at her wedding to Josh Russo. Lt. Josh Russo was stationed at Camp Pendleton, some 40 miles north, at the time of Russo's assault in 2004. He remains in the military.

Claire And Josh Russo

Claire and Josh Russo on their wedding day, with friends from the Marines.
Claire and Josh Russo on their wedding day, with friends from the Marines.

Russo And Her Motorcycle

"Me on my Russian Minsk 120 cc dirt bike, in Laos. This was one day on an 8 month trip/honeymoon Josh and I took. We rode motorcylces through SE Asia, Australia and went to Africa," Russo describes in a recent email.
"Me on my Russian Minsk 120 cc dirt bike, in Laos. This was one day on an 8 month trip/honeymoon Josh and I took. We rode motorcylces through SE Asia, Australia and went to Africa," Russo describes in a recent email.

'Marawara'

Claire Russo in Afghanistan near the Pakistan border, on a mission with the 1st Battalion, 503rd Infantry Army Paratroopers.  "I spoke with the district governor that day about how we could help to get a woman working for the Ministry of Womens Affairs working in his district," Russo writes.
Claire Russo in Afghanistan near the Pakistan border, on a mission with the 1st Battalion, 503rd Infantry Army Paratroopers. "I spoke with the district governor that day about how we could help to get a woman working for the Ministry of Womens Affairs working in his district," Russo writes.

Claire, Josh And Genevieve Russo In Paris

Claire Russo and her husband, Josh Russo, and their baby Genevieve, here four weeks old, in Paris.   Josh serves in the U.S. Army.
Claire Russo and her husband, Josh Russo, and their baby Genevieve, here four weeks old, in Paris. Josh serves in the U.S. Army.

St. Genevieve

"My 4 week old daughter Genevieve and I in front of a painting of Saint Genevieve, the patron saint of Paris, who saved the city from the Huns," Russo writes.
"My 4 week old daughter Genevieve and I in front of a painting of Saint Genevieve, the patron saint of Paris, who saved the city from the Huns," Russo writes.

Marti Ribeiro In Front Of Village

Marti Ribeiro served with the Air Force, Army, Navy and Marines over eight years as a combat correspondent.
Marti Ribeiro served with the Air Force, Army, Navy and Marines over eight years as a combat correspondent.

Interviewing

As a combat correspondent, Marti Ribeiro accompanied medical convoys to remote areas without local doctors. Such clinics were set up in specific locations, so the locals needed significant advance warning of their arrival.  When one such convoy came under attack, Ribeiro returned fire, earning her a <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/05/14/women-at-war-unseen_n_1498291.html#slide=964342">Combat Action Badge</a>, though as a female, she officially should not have been in a position to take fire.

'Afghan Girls On Rooftop'

A photograph of Afghan girls, taken by Marti Ribeiro during her deployment.
A photograph of Afghan girls, taken by Marti Ribeiro during her deployment.

Ribeiro In 2006

Marti Ribeiro and an Afghan boy in 2006.
Marti Ribeiro and an Afghan boy in 2006.

'Soaked To The Bone And Miserable'

Marti Ribeiro titles this photo -- taken in Afghanistan in 2006 -- as "soaked to the bone and miserable."
Marti Ribeiro titles this photo -- taken in Afghanistan in 2006 -- as "soaked to the bone and miserable."

Marti Ribeiro And Her Daughter Bela

Marti Ribeiro and her daughter, Bela, in San Antonio, Texas.
Marti Ribeiro and her daughter, Bela, in San Antonio, Texas.

This article originally appeared on HuffPost.