Brown University punished a rapist with what amounted to a one-semester suspension for choking and sexually assaulting a fellow student. Lena Sclove, 22, told a crowd of more than 50 students at the Ivy League campus in Providence, Rhode Island, o…
… “I was just so angry, and the first thought I had was I can’t finish my degree here,” Sclove told The Huffington Post. “They’re letting him come right back, so either I need to take two years off until he graduates or I need to transfer somewhere else. … I did not do anything wrong, and yet I’m the one who’s going to take time off or transfer.”
…The board recommended a two-year suspension from school for the attacker. That would have allowed Sclove to finish her studies without her assailant on campus. But J. Allen Ward, Brown’s senior associate dean of student life, reduced the sentence to a one-year suspension…
[Relatedly,] Harvard College was hit with a federal complaint last month for, among other grievances, forcing sexual assault victims to live in the same residence halls as their attackers.
New York Times photojournalist Tyler Hicks spoke to Fresh Air about his Pulitzer Prize-winning photographs of the terrorist siege at a Nairobi mall in September 2013. In today’s interview Hicks tells Terry Gross about taking this photo:
"It’s a very exposed vantage point so I didn’t spend a lot of time there. But I looked down and saw this incredible scene of a young woman with two children hiding on the floor of a café. You could see shell casings all around them from bullets and they were just petrified, they were completely still and … to me, that photograph really sums up what happened there. Outside of the frame, all around them and on the floor of this mall were bodies, a man next to an ATM machine, a woman still holding a shopping bag who had been killed, and they somehow managed to avoid that."
Photo Tyler Hicks/New York Times
every day they want you to shrink:
fit here, in my palm, in my shadow, don’t be bigger than my idea of you, don’t be more beautiful than i can accept, don’t be more human than i am willing to allow you to be and be quiet, you’re too loud, even your unbelonging is loud. quiet your dreams, your voice, your hair, quiet your skin, quiet your displacement, quiet your longing, your colour, quiet your walk, your eyes. who said you could look at me like that? who said you could exist without permission? why are you even here? why aren’t you shrinking? i think of you often. you vibrate. you walk into a room and the temperature changes. i lean in and almost recognise you as human. but, no. we can’t have that.