Uplifting Survivor Voices: “Legislating Hope: How One Woman Turned Pain into Policy to Protect Others,” Written by Witlee Ethan

Written by Witlee Ethan

TW: Suicidal Ideation, Sexual violence, violence 

From the time I was a young girl, I’ve always had an empathetic heart towards victims of injustice. Wanting to do something to make a difference and help them in some way.  Which became my life’s mission when I became a crime victim of physical and sexual assault, having also experienced different kinds of abuse throughout my life. Going from Victim to Survivor to becoming a Victim Advocate is no small feat and has been an arduous journey. Yet, I am the resilient advocate I am today because of everything I’ve experienced. The violent acts I endured on Jan 6, 2020, when I was held hostage (false imprisonment), physically assaulted, and repeatedly sexually assaulted, is what led me to write legislation, to protect others from the injustices I experienced. What I know now that I didn’t know then is that all the trauma, heartache, loss, grief, and pain I would go through would lead me to a purpose I never could have imagined. 

In Jan 2020, when I went on a date with a guy from a dating site. I had no idea that date would completely turn my world upside down in the worst ways nor did I realize years later it would also impact legislative change. But there would be a lot I would have to walk through, survive, and overcome before I would accomplish what I have now.  Because of the assault I’ve experienced mental health struggles leading to suicide ideation, I became pregnant from the assault and endured a traumatic miscarriage, and I’ve been cruelly mistreated by others because of being sexually assaulted. Plus, the stress from the trauma in the aftermath of the assault, has taken a toll on my physical health. Sexual assault impacts victims in every way.

Yet, if that wasn’t bad enough, on top of everything I’ve also been revictimized and further harmed by our judicial system, the police, the DA’s office, Atrium healthcare system, multi-million-dollar corporations, state licensing boards, attorneys, and by a private investigative firm. In the last five years, my perpetrator has yet to be brought to justice by either the Cornelius Police Dept or the DA’s office. The police haven’t done their job to properly investigate my case and because of their negligence, my case escalated to a “She Said, He Sued” case. Which allowed my perpetrator to legally sue me for defamation all because I turned him in for his crimes. Sadly, perpetrators have more rights than victims and survivors do. This retaliatory tactic used by abusers to weaponize the system against their victim in an attempt to silence them is known worldwide as “She Said He Sued”. 

When I was sued by my rapist, I was forced to file bankruptcy to protect myself. My case ended up in Civil Court, Bankruptcy Court, and Federal District Court. In Civil Court cases the victims are listed as the defendant while the perpetrators have a powerful advantage over their vulnerable victims because of money and connections. Victims are not given a pro bono attorney nor are victim services or resources made available to them because the lawsuit is a civil case, not a criminal case. My perpetrator filed his lawsuit against me because the companies he worked for used me as a scapegoat, prioritizing profit over protecting people. I had turned in my perpetrator to his company North American Senior Benefits (NASB) which was acquired by Integrity Marketing Group, because he was conducting business while assaulting me. He got on a companywide call and muted it while he committed crimes. The companies first protected him but when they eventually fired him, they blamed me shifting the blame to the victim.  What they did resulted in him filing his lawsuit against me. The unethical actions of these two companies caused me financial devastation. I didn’t just have to file bankruptcy, I also ended up in debt. 

With my court case I had to advocate for myself including writing motions, filing motions, and representing myself pro se. I was in a very vulnerable position desperately needing help in my case and had reached out to over 100 attorneys. Unfortunately, the attorneys that were willing to represent me or give me legal advice caused more harm instead of helping. These attorneys jeopardized my case and didn’t follow the ethical standards of the state bar. One male attorney sexually harassed me and made sexually inappropriate comments about my case. This court case exposed a lot of injustices within our system. Including the Cornelius Police protecting my perpetrator by refusing to even bring him in for questioning and working with him instead of working to bring him to justice. During the settlement agreement negotiations that I was forced by the Court to attend with my perpetrator, he put stipulations in the agreement that protected the police.  The mediator during mediation threatened that if I didn’t sign the settlement agreement that my perpetrator would go after my family. Which was a valid concern considering my perpetrator has AR15’s as well as other guns in his possession that the police refuse to investigate. Plus, he had hired Derecho Investigations and Security Consultants operated by former military and police personnel, to find me for him. Which they gave my perpetrator addresses for me and my family, endangering our safety. One of my biggest safety concerns regarding my perpetrator is that he is an insurance producer who is licensed across the nation and goes into his clients’ homes without them being aware of the crimes he’s committed. The state licensing boards won’t do anything to remove his licenses unless the police charge him, but the police refuse to hold him accountable in any way. So, for the last five years he’s been walking free and able to rape again. 

 

Against all odds I won my case against him while representing myself pro se in Feb 2023. In the final case decision, the Judge stated that my perpetrator is a liar and made the settlement agreement moot. Which meant I was no longer silenced, and he was no longer protected. After this win he gave up his final 2 appeals, the case was over. This was a huge victory in so many ways. Every case sets a precedent, in my case the victim won over her abuser. But two months after this win in April 2023, Chief Baucom of the Cornelius Police Dept, closed my case letting me know that they did not consider all the evidence and some evidence would not be reviewed at all. I was also told that they would only re-open my case if another woman is raped. That was the moment that changed everything. In response to the police failing to protect people from rapists, and after our system has continued to fail me and other victims and survivors. On April 25, 2023, I wrote my bill. 

Though I had never written a bill before, it was the first step towards creating change that I saw was needed from all the injustices that took place in the handling of my case. Change that would give victims and survivors justice, hold perpetrators accountable, and work towards preventing what happened to me from happening to anyone else. At this point I had already been in touch with the NCCASA and staff attorney Skye David regarding my story. On April 15, 2024, my bill was drafted in the House and over the next year me, Skye, and many Legislators would tirelessly lobby for this bill. On April 3, 2025, my bill on Sexual Assault Victim Rights part of HB 771: Criminal Law Procedures https://webservices.ncleg.gov/ViewBillDocument/2025/3703/0/DRH10350-SA-8) was introduced for the first time in the NCGA House of Representatives. I was able to speak on my bill before the J2 Committee on April 15, 2025, and after I spoke, I got to witness it passing unanimously and moving to Rules, which it passed on April 28, 2025. I was also there in the gallery on April 29, 2025, when it passed the House. After it passed with 111 votes to 3, the House Speaker announced, “ I have one more courtesy of the gallery that is part of the bill that the body just passed upon motion of Rep. Stevens, the Chair is happy to extend the courtesy of the gallery to Witlee Ethan who was an inspiration for portions of HB 771. At that point, Members of the House and those in the gallery proceeded to give me a standing ovation recognizing me for my advocacy and my contribution to the bill. It was a powerful moment for me as a woman, as a victim, a survivor, and victim advocate for others. Because as I said during my speech before the J2 Committee, “I was standing there representing every victim, every survivor, every woman, and standing up advocating for every child.” Exactly 2 years after I wrote my bill it passed the House and it happened during Sexual Assault Awareness Month. A moment in time I’ll never forget especially when victims and survivors are often silenced, dismissed, and disregarded, but in this moment before the NC House of Representatives we were seen and acknowledged. This fight for justice started out to hold my perpetrator accountable, but it became a mission to protect everyone. This bill has made crossover and is now in the Senate. The progress this bill has made is nothing short of a miracle and it truly is a monumental milestone. 

I hope my story gives you hope and encourages you. No matter what you’ve endured, something good can still come from it. There is purpose in the pain. If I hadn't gone through what I went through, I never would have written this bill. Which can directly impact over 11 million people with the ability to help even more people. To the victims and survivors, you are not alone. 

For more info on Witlee Ethan, please visit https://linktr.ee/LiveEachDayWithPurpose

Grief of the 81 percent

Written by Hannah Preston, MPH

TW: Suicidal Ideation, Sexual violence, Eating disorders

While I could share the graphic details of how I became part of that statistic, I'm going to focus on something arguably worse: the grief that follows from that day forward. After a sexual assault, there is so much to grieve, and this grief comes in stages. It feels different and changes over time. The grief feels like a thick layer of grime on your skin. It feels like shame, sadness, hopelessness, but regardless of how hard you scrub, cry, mourn, or yell, it never truly goes away.

This might sound odd to someone who has never experienced such a heinous act. Of course, the act itself is horrifying, but what makes the aftermath so difficult? The grief that you feel is all-consuming. It shows up in the body in unexpected ways. The pain is not confined to just that one day; it lingers every day afterward.

Grief for the past, present, and future

I grieve the person I was before my first sexual assault. I carry the grief of losing my sense of power. I grieve how easily it was for someone to take a part of me, to steal my power from me entirely.

I grieve what I wish I could have told my 19-year-old self after it first happened, to reassure her that it wasn’t her fault. I grieve for my 21-year-old self, wishing I could say to her that she should be allowed to go out with friends without the worry of being taken advantage of.

I grieve that I now have to look over my shoulder while walking down the street, and I hold my breath if I am alone in an elevator with a man. Before, I didn’t have to learn breathing exercises to help with panic attacks. Before, I didn’t see my abusers in every man I drove by on the road. Before, I wasn’t scared. I grieve the phone call I made to my dad when I had to let him know that I walk to a coffee shop every morning, just in case one day I don’t show up, so there would be someone who would know to look for me. I grieve the look on others’ faces when I tell them what happened to me. I grieve the adults and institutions that wrote off what happened to me. I grieve being part of the statistic. I hate that I am part of the 81 percent. Even more so, I hate that the statistic is 81 percent. I wish we all didn’t have this in common, and that more stories were far and few between.

Grief in the Body

Grief never shows up in the way you expect. You can go through all the therapy in the world, and then, unexpectedly, on a wonderful day, you find yourself right back to that attack. After my sexual assault, grief manifested in many ways—not just emotionally but physically as well. The trauma I experienced resulted in a PTSD diagnosis, as well as anxiety and depressive symptoms.

Grief after my encounters made me a shell of who I was. Looking back, I was so deeply depressed. I was in the middle of not wanting to be here, but not wanting to die either. Some days, the highlight and lowlight of my day would be getting out of bed to simply brush my teeth and change my clothes, because that’s all I would do in a day. I would spend the remainder of the day in bed.

Grief also affected my relationship with food. I went through cycles of eating, not eating, overeating, and then repeating these patterns. I would go through similar phases with alcohol, not drinking, social drinking, drinking every night, and repeat. I felt constantly on edge. In the beginning, whenever I went out in public, I would shake and tremble, continually scanning the room for the person who hurt me. For the first three years, I experienced vivid night terrors, which weren’t always about my assault. Sometimes, I would dream about a loved one dying in front of me, someone I couldn’t save, or about a natural disaster—each dream sharing a common theme: powerlessness.

This all caused me to do poorly in school. I was initially afraid to tell my program that I had just gotten into my dream graduate program, in my dream field. The trauma caused me to almost fail out of school, and I was placed on academic probation, which caused even more grief and shame. I had just gotten my dream program, and I felt so much shame to have let someone else cause trauma that resulted in my poor academic performance.

Managing Grief

It has been five years since my first sexual assault and two years since my second. There is no one-size-fits-all answer to managing grief, but I can tell you that today, I am the healthiest I have ever been. I didn’t think living a life like this, filled with hopefulness, healthy relationships, and a true sense of self, was possible after my sexual assaults. I didn’t get to the place I am today easily.

The first step was acknowledging that it happened. I didn’t want to believe it; it was too painful. But once I accepted the pain, I opened a door to process and heal. It was one of the hardest choices, but it was worth it. The journey to healing is complicated and emotionally taxing. But I promise you it is so worth it. A considerable part of this step is identifying your support system. You cannot do this work alone, and you shouldn’t have to. Find your safe places, your support systems who can help pick you up on the days that you want to waste away, people who can help you through your journey. I found my people through close friends, an incredible therapist, and trauma advocates at my university.

The second step was learning how to reset my nervous system. After such an event, you will be under constant stress, which causes your nervous system to be on high alert.  Learning to regulate and reset your nervous system is crucial. I do this now through simple things like coloring before bed, and having a routine when I feel panic attacks coming on.

The other saving grace was therapy. I do not think I would be here today without my therapist. I was able to have a safe, neutral space to process what had happened to me. I did and continue to do various kinds of therapy. I do talk therapy, the most common kind of therapy, paired with EMDR and Brain Spotting. These types of therapy are not for everyone. But for me, I found EMDR and Brain spotting to be a way to process my most profound trauma in a way that no longer has me bawling on the floor in a panic attack. It completely dissolved my most jarring triggers around my trauma.

Grief is complicated, grief is unforgiving. Healing from trauma is challenging and complex. But know you are not alone in your journey.

It’s Here!! A brand new tool for Advocates! 

The **NCCASA Advocacy Desk Reference** is an essential new resource designed to support sexual violence advocates with the foundational knowledge and practical tools they need to serve survivors effectively.

Developed by the North Carolina Coalition Against Sexual Assault (NCCASA), this comprehensive guide covers key topics such as trauma-informed care, cultural competence, legal advocacy, crisis intervention, and advocacy best practices.

Whether you’re a new advocate or a seasoned professional, the Advocacy Desk Reference offers quick access to critical information, empowering you to provide compassionate, survivor-centered support. Easy to navigate and grounded in evidence-based strategies, this resource is a must-have for anyone committed to ending sexual violence and supporting survivors on their healing journey.

As we observe Mental Health Awareness Month this May, it’s essential to recognize the profound connection between mental health and sexual violence. Survivors often face complex emotional and psychological challenges, including trauma, anxiety, and depression. Advocates may also experience secondary trauma, creating greater challenges of burnout and stress. Addressing these needs is crucial for healing and resilience.

Fortunately, there are accessible and low-barrier mental health resources available to support individuals in need across North Carolina:

24/7 Crisis Support

Mobile Crisis Teams

If you or someone you know is experiencing a mental health crisis and needs immediate, in-person support, North Carolina’s mobile crisis teams can come to you—whether you’re at home, at school, or in the community. These services are free, confidential, and available to everyone, regardless of insurance status. To find the nearest mobile crisis team, visit the NCDHHS Mobile Crisis Team Directory.

Additional Support Options

If you or someone you know is struggling, don’t hesitate to reach out and ask for help. Support is available, and you deserve care and compassion.

Learn more!

SAAM Week 4: Communities Act Together, Written by Courtney Dunkerton

In the aftermath of Helene we saw the power of community acting together, united in a common purpose to help all those impacted by the floods. Western North Carolina pulled together and showed up for each other until ALL community members were located and safe. We saw a statewide outpouring of mutual aid and support while WNC showed the world their persistence, resourcefulness, and grit.

The challenges included loss of any means of communication, information or emergency services as well as no infrastructure to deal with widespread flooding. Anguish over loved ones missing, scattered and isolated across the mountains and valleys was not helped by agitators who also showed up. These worked hard to spread misinformation, and to demonize and divide people for political gain. But the community response was stronger than the troublemakers. 

In the immediate aftermath, and in the following weeks, we listened to the needs and stories of the rape crisis programs that worked in affected areas and were amazed at the sacrifice of advocates who continued to show up. Some who lost everything still chose to be there to answer the crisis line. They understood the nature of sexual violence.

Violence affects us all. Sometimes, it is the violence of catastrophic weather events that leaves individuals displaced, unhoused, unemployed and unsafe while having to navigate the aftermath with the mental health impact of trauma or PTSD. Sometimes it is the invisible disaster of sexual violence that does the same. And sometimes they happen together, compounding loss and trauma. 

Sexual violence does not take a pause when disasters hit. In fact, the risk increases.

“The immediate and long-term effects of disasters heighten risk factors for sexual violence perpetration and victimization. They also create and worsen existing barriers to safety and healing for survivors and accountability for people who sexually offend. As a result, sexual violence often becomes a tragedy within the tragedy of disaster.

Rape crisis centers respond to survivors’ needs, by showing up for survivors literally in any weather, and can significantly contribute to an individual and an entire community’s resilience. 

During this Sexual Assault Awareness Month, we want to highlight how communities can act together to value and prioritize the safety and wellness of every community member, just as our WNC neighbors showed us the way.

Together, we can open lines of communication and listen to what ALL survivors need. 

Together we can get assistance to the ones most isolated from resources. 

Together, we can practice statewide mutual aid.

Together we can build bridges and clear pathways to resources and partnerships. 

Together, we can remove barriers and confront misinformation with clarity and truth. 

Together, we can!

The National Sexual Violence Resource Center has created the resource, Sexual Violence in Disasters that can help communities to act together to prepare for and ultimately prevent sexual violence in or out of disasters. 

Written by, Courtney Dunkerton, NCCASA’s Human Trafficking Program Coordinator

Grief of the 81 percent

Written by Hannah Preston, MPH

TW: Suicidal Ideation, Sexual violence, Eating disorders

While I could share the graphic details of how I became part of that statistic, I’m going to focus on something arguably worse: the grief that follows from that day forward. After a sexual assault, there is so much to grieve, and this grief comes in stages. It feels different and changes over time. The grief feels like a thick layer of grime on your skin. It feels like shame, sadness, hopelessness, but regardless of how hard you scrub, cry, mourn, or yell, it never truly goes away.

This might sound odd to someone who has never experienced such a heinous act. Of course, the act itself is horrifying, but what makes the aftermath so difficult? The grief that you feel is all-consuming. It shows up in the body in unexpected ways. The pain is not confined to just that one day; it lingers every day afterward.

Grief for the past, present, and future

I grieve the person I was before my first sexual assault. I carry the grief of losing my sense of power. I grieve how easily it was for someone to take a part of me, to steal my power from me entirely.

I grieve what I wish I could have told my 19-year-old self after it first happened, to reassure her that it wasn’t her fault. I grieve for my 21-year-old self, wishing I could say to her that she should be allowed to go out with friends without the worry of being taken advantage of.

I grieve that I now have to look over my shoulder while walking down the street, and I hold my breath if I am alone in an elevator with a man. Before, I didn’t have to learn breathing exercises to help with panic attacks. Before, I didn’t see my abusers in every man I drove by on the road. Before, I wasn’t scared. I grieve the phone call I made to my dad when I had to let him know that I walk to a coffee shop every morning, just in case one day I don’t show up, so there would be someone who would know to look for me. I grieve the look on others’ faces when I tell them what happened to me. I grieve the adults and institutions that wrote off what happened to me. I grieve being part of the statistic. I hate that I am part of the 81 percent. Even more so, I hate that the statistic is 81 percent. I wish we all didn’t have this in common, and that more stories were far and few between.

Grief in the Body

Grief never shows up in the way you expect. You can go through all the therapy in the world, and then, unexpectedly, on a wonderful day, you find yourself right back to that attack. After my sexual assault, grief manifested in many ways—not just emotionally but physically as well. The trauma I experienced resulted in a PTSD diagnosis, as well as anxiety and depressive symptoms.

Grief after my encounters made me a shell of who I was. Looking back, I was so deeply depressed. I was in the middle of not wanting to be here, but not wanting to die either. Some days, the highlight and lowlight of my day would be getting out of bed to simply brush my teeth and change my clothes, because that’s all I would do in a day. I would spend the remainder of the day in bed.

Grief also affected my relationship with food. I went through cycles of eating, not eating, overeating, and then repeating these patterns. I would go through similar phases with alcohol, not drinking, social drinking, drinking every night, and repeat. I felt constantly on edge. In the beginning, whenever I went out in public, I would shake and tremble, continually scanning the room for the person who hurt me. For the first three years, I experienced vivid night terrors, which weren’t always about my assault. Sometimes, I would dream about a loved one dying in front of me, someone I couldn’t save, or about a natural disaster—each dream sharing a common theme: powerlessness.

This all caused me to do poorly in school. I was initially afraid to tell my program that I had just gotten into my dream graduate program, in my dream field. The trauma caused me to almost fail out of school, and I was placed on academic probation, which caused even more grief and shame. I had just gotten my dream program, and I felt so much shame to have let someone else cause trauma that resulted in my poor academic performance.

Managing Grief

It has been five years since my first sexual assault and two years since my second. There is no one-size-fits-all answer to managing grief, but I can tell you that today, I am the healthiest I have ever been. I didn’t think living a life like this, filled with hopefulness, healthy relationships, and a true sense of self, was possible after my sexual assaults. I didn’t get to the place I am today easily.

The first step was acknowledging that it happened. I didn’t want to believe it; it was too painful. But once I accepted the pain, I opened a door to process and heal. It was one of the hardest choices, but it was worth it. The journey to healing is complicated and emotionally taxing. But I promise you it is so worth it. A considerable part of this step is identifying your support system. You cannot do this work alone, and you shouldn’t have to. Find your safe places, your support systems who can help pick you up on the days that you want to waste away, people who can help you through your journey. I found my people through close friends, an incredible therapist, and trauma advocates at my university.

The second step was learning how to reset my nervous system. After such an event, you will be under constant stress, which causes your nervous system to be on high alert.  Learning to regulate and reset your nervous system is crucial. I do this now through simple things like coloring before bed, and having a routine when I feel panic attacks coming on.

The other saving grace was therapy. I do not think I would be here today without my therapist. I was able to have a safe, neutral space to process what had happened to me. I did and continue to do various kinds of therapy. I do talk therapy, the most common kind of therapy, paired with EMDR and Brain Spotting. These types of therapy are not for everyone. But for me, I found EMDR and Brain spotting to be a way to process my most profound trauma in a way that no longer has me bawling on the floor in a panic attack. It completely dissolved my most jarring triggers around my trauma.

Grief is complicated, grief is unforgiving. Healing from trauma is challenging and complex. But know you are not alone in your journey.

As an advocate who has worked with survivors of sexual and domestic violence for over a decade, I truly believe the only way to eradicate gender-based violence, is to Learn, Act and Change. It is EVERYONE’S responsibility to learn the dynamics and nuances surrounding sexual violence. To learn that the 1 in 3 women and 1 in 4 men will experience some form of sexual violence. To learn that any person can experience or perpetrate sexual violence. To take the time to learn that oftentimes the harm doer is a person who the victim loves and has conflicting feelings on what justice mean for them. To learn that no one deserves to be sexually violated regardless of what they wear, had to drink, or does for a living.

Time to ACT! You can act by being an active bystander. Choosing what method works best, you can advocate for victims of sexual violence by doing something when you see something! You can act by advocating for legislation that protects funding and programming that provide services for victims and survivors of sexual assault. You can act by providing donations and volunteering for local programs that support victims and survivors.

CHANGE now! Change the narrative surrounding sexual violence and victim blaming. Change the narrative that perpetuates myths and lies that hinders victims and survivors from receiving the services needed. Advocate against processes that re-victimizes the person who has been harmed.

We lift up Sexual Assault Awareness in April. Let’s commit to learning, acting and changing every day of every month of every year to end sexual violence.

Written by LaTanya Foust, Culturally Specific Campus Technical Assistance Provider

April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month (SAAM), a time to increase public awareness of sexual violence and educate communities on prevention. In 2025, we join NSVRC’s with the theme “Together We Act, United We Change.”  This theme highlights the power of

Sexual Assault Awareness Month is a time to reflect, take action, and commit to building a future free from sexual violence. NSVRC’s 2025 theme, Together We Act, United We Change, reminds us that ending sexual violence is not an individual fight—it requires collective action, shared responsibility, and a deep commitment to justice for survivors. Each and every one of us has a role to play in creating safer, more supportive environments and preventing harm before it happens.

Survivors often turn first to their communities—not institutions—for support, safety, and healing. This is why creating strong networks of community care is so important. When we truly listen to survivors and provide tangible support like housing, food, or financial assistance, we are actively resisting the systems that often fail them. Community-led initiatives, such as survivor funds, crisis response teams, and peer support groups, create pathways for healing and resilience that institutions alone cannot provide.

This community-centered movement needs everyone. You don’t have to be a survivor to be part of the fight against sexual violence. We need educators, faith leaders, business owners, healthcare workers, and neighbors to step up, challenge harmful norms, and foster cultures of consent and accountability. We need people to have tough conversations, intervene when they see harm, and actively support policies that center survivors. Together, we can create a world where no one has to experience sexual violence — but until that vision is realized, we can ensure that those who do are met with care and unwavering solidarity.

Now is the time to act. Whether you’re organizing in your community, advocating for survivor-centered policies, or just supporting a friend in need, your role in this movement matters. Change happens when we show up for each other, not just in moments of crisis but every single day.

Written by Ellen Fiedler, MSW

March is Women’s History Month. Women have historically and modernly advocated for safer communities, free of violence of all kinds, including sexual violence. Women have used their voices, communities, experiences, and strength to lift up survivors, catalyze legal protections, and inform societal perceptions around sexual violence. Learn about a few of the many advocates throughout time who have dedicated their expertise and lives to preventing sexual violence. 

Recy Taylor

In 1944, Recy Taylor’s life changed when she was abducted and sexually assaulted by a group of white men while walking home from church in the Jim Crow South. Despite the men’s confession, the authorities refused to bring justice. In response to growing outrage, Rosa Parks and other activists rallied for a grand jury investigation. Recy Taylor endured threats and intimidation but refused to stay silent. Her bravery in testifying against her attackers marked an early moment in the fight for justice for survivors of sexual violence. Though the courts failed her, her courage continues to resonate with survivors today. In 2011, the Alabama Legislature issued a formal apology for their failure to prosecute Taylor’s attackers.

Rosa Parks

While Rosa Parks is best known for her role in the civil rights movement, her activism also extended to issues of sexual violence. After the Recy Taylor case, she became involved in advocating for Taylor’s justice and for raising awareness about the sexual violence that Black women faced. Her activism paved the way for many others to speak out and demand justice for victims of sexual violence.

Susan Brownmiller

Susan Brownmiller’s groundbreaking book, Against Our Will: Men, Women, and Rape, published in 1975, transformed social perceptions about sexual violence. Through comprehensive historical analysis, Brownmiller examined the cultural, social, and political factors that perpetuate sexual violence. She introduced the term “date rape,” which helped change the conversation around consent and sexual assault. Her work remains a touchstone in understanding sexual violence and continues to influence both activists and policymakers.

Mary P. Koss

Mary P. Koss’s landmark 1987 study, The Scope of Rape: Incidence and Prevalence of Sexual Aggression and Victimization in a National Sample of Higher Education Students, was the first large-scale survey on sexual violence prevalence on college campuses. Her research, which revealed the startling frequency of sexual violence, has had a lasting impact on policies and practices related to campus safety. Koss’s development of the concept of “rape culture” also helped shed light on the societal conditions that perpetuate sexual violence, informing a broader movement for change.

Amanda Nguyen

In 2016, Amanda Nguyen authored the Sexual Assault Survivors’ Bill of Rights, which was signed into law by President Obama. As the founder of Rise, a nonprofit organization dedicated to codifying civil rights, Nguyen has tirelessly fought for the rights of sexual assault survivors. She also authored the Survivors’ Resolution, passed through the United Nations General Assembly. Her advocacy extends beyond legislation, igniting global movements to stop sexual violence and, more recently, to combat hate toward Asian communities in the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic.

Tarana Burke

Tarana Burke, an activist and advocate since her teenage years, founded the #MeToo movement to bring attention to the pervasive sexual violence impacting women, particularly young Black girls. What started as a grassroots movement in Selma, Alabama, gained worldwide recognition when it went viral in 2017. Burke’s vision for a survivor-led movement continues to empower victims, providing a platform for their voices while encouraging healing and solidarity. Through her leadership, she’s helped shift the conversation on sexual violence toward justice and survivor-centered solutions.

Chanel Miller

Chanel Miller’s powerful memoir, Know My Name, published in 2019, gave a voice to her experience of sexual violence, the courtroom trauma she endured, and her journey of healing and advocacy. Miller’s courage to share her story has had a profound impact on how survivors are heard and treated in both legal and societal contexts. Through her writing and activism, she has become a prominent figure in challenging the culture of sexual violence and advocating for change.

End Note

These are just a few of the many advocates who have paved the way for sexual violence prevention. We recognize the important work that folks are doing every day, and from the local level to the national level, the work you do matters.