Abstract
This article presents a qualitative study of 44 Women of Color undergraduate student survivors’ perceptions of campus sexual assault prevention programming using the framework of standpoint theory. Participants held perceptions concerning online training prior to college, the in-person presentations they attended during new student orientation, and the lack of information relayed through prevention programs about sexual assault perpetration. Findings highlight the need for continued research investigating the standpoints of Women of Color students to better inform implementation of prevention efforts.
In April 2011, the U.S. Department of Education Office for Civil Rights released a Dear Colleague Letter (DCL), which clarified that “sexual harassment of students, which includes acts of sexual violence, is a form of sex discrimination prohibited by Title IX” (U.S. Department of Education, 2011, para. 1). Shortly after the release of the DCL, the government and many institutions of higher education in the U.S. dedicated ample time and energy to campus sexual assault (CSA) prevention policies, procedures, and programs. For example, in March 2013, President Obama signed the Violence Against Women Reauthorization Act, which mandated that U.S. colleges and universities implement CSA prevention programs for incoming students that “promote positive behaviors that foster healthy, mutually-respectful relationships and sexuality, encourage safe bystander intervention tactics, and seek to change behavior and social norms in safe, healthy directions” (Clery Center, 2019, np). Over the past 10 years, hundreds of colleges and universities have aimed to comply with federal guidelines that concern CSA prevention. In 2002, prior to the DCL, 58% of higher education institutions offered some type of prevention programming for students (Karjane et al., 2002). In 2016, 91% of higher education institutions offered some sort of mandatory training to first-year students and staff (Tombros Korman et al., 2017).
Although federal and institutional efforts to prevent CSA have increased, it remains unknown if prevention programs reduce incidents of sexual assault. While some scholars suggest that prevention programs reduce, in the short term, rape supportive attitudes associated with sexual assault, these attitudinal measures do not necessarily prove that programs prevent, or lead to a decline in, CSA (Breitenbecher, 2000; Gray et al., 2017). Furthermore, even with the past several years of increased prevention guidelines and institutional efforts, the statistic that one in four undergraduate cisgender women in the U.S. will experience CSA remains consistent (Cantor et al., 2019). Students with multiple minoritized identities, such as Native American women and trans* women, continue to experience CSA at even higher rates (Cantor et al., 2019; Griner et al., 2017). Because CSA remains endemic to higher education, policy makers, scholars, and practitioners continue to assess and investigate prevention in hopes of carving “a productive path forward in the fight against campus sexual violence” (Gray et al., 2017, vii). This current study contributes to this “fight” by exploring the following research question: What are Women of Color student survivors’ perceptions of institutional CSA prevention programming?
This current study explores Women of Color student survivors’ perceptions of the effectiveness, or ineffectiveness, of institutional prevention in an attempt to elucidate a more “productive path” toward the eradication of CSA. This research centers on Women of Color student survivors to challenge and significantly add to the vast majority of CSA research that focuses on white women students’ experiences with CSA prevention (Harris et al., 2020; Harris & Linder, 2017). When studying prevention, scholars often use study samples of majority white women (e.g., Coker et al., 2015; Gidycz et al., 2008), do not ask students to report their racial identities (e.g., Moynihan et al., 2011), or neglect to engage race in a significant manner when reporting research results and findings (Harris et al., 2020). Subsequently, scholars who study CSA often obscure how Women of Color experience CSA at higher rates than white women students (Cantor et al., 2019) and how, due to a history of colonization, slavery, forced removal, cultural genocide, and continued violence against Communities of Color in the U.S., the experiences and prevention needs of Women of Color are often qualitatively different from white women's experiences and needs (Crenshaw, 1991; Harris, 2017; Wooten, 2017). We center Women of Color student survivors’ perceptions of CSA prevention to work toward more inclusive, diverse, and, subsequently, more effective approaches to preventing CSA.
Review of Literature
Below, we provide a detailed overview of campus prevention programming and the four levels of prevention this programming often aims to address. Next, we explore what is known and unknown about students’ perceptions of prevention programming and how these perceptions may differ when students’ identities are accounted for in the research process.
Campus Sexual Violence Prevention
Many higher education institutions and organizations have adopted the Social Ecological-Model (SEM; Centers for Disease Control and Prevention [CDC], 2019; Krug et al., 2002) as a framework for preventing sexual violence on campus (e.g., Washington Coalition of Sexual Assault Programs, 2019). The model focuses on the interplay between individual, relationship, community, and societal level factors that might lead to and prevent sexual violence. Prevention strategies centering the individual level focus on promoting individual attitudes and behaviors that prevent violence (CDC, 2019). For example, scholars continually find that alcohol consumption, an individual behavior, places college students at a higher risk for sexual victimization (Abbey et al., 1996; Krebs et al., 2009; Mouilso et al., 2012). Scholars have also highlighted the danger of the “red zone,” or the beginning of the first semester of college where first-year students are more likely to experience sexual violence because of the high alcohol-intake at parties (Flack et al., 2008; Kimble et al., 2008). Subsequently, campus programs, which are often part of first-year student orientation, often aim to address students’ alcohol consumption in connection with CSA (Harris & Linder, 2017; Harris et al., 2020).
The relationship level focuses on close relationships that may influence an individual's chance of experiencing or perpetrating violence (CDC, 2019). Bystander intervention initiatives, which are educational initiatives that promote students’ intervention in situations with potential for sexual assault, are often the main prevention strategy that addresses the relationship level (Bennett et al., 2017). Most bystander intervention programs, however, have not been found to impact rates of sexual assault perpetration (Kettrey et al., 2019); the few bystander intervention program evaluations that have demonstrated a change in rates of CSA involve student populations that are over 77% white (Coker et al., 2015, 2016). Bystander programs often aim to reduce rape myth acceptance (RMA; see Harris et al., 2020), or one's belief in stereotypical attitudes about sexual assault, which may impact rates of assault on campus (e.g., Bannon et al., 2013; McMahon, 2010). Bystander intervention programs, such as Green Dot (a bystander education program), are promoted as effective prevention efforts and have been adopted at many institutions of higher education (Hong & Marine, 2018; see also Culture of Respect, 2019). All four institutions in this research used some, if not all, of the Green Dot Bystander Intervention program to frame their prevention education; at the very minimum, all institutions adapted the Program's Three Ds (direct, distract, or delegate) approach.
The community level includes settings and places an individual occupies where social relationships, and sexual violence, may occur (CDC, 2019). Community-level prevention tactics on campus often center on addressing the increased risk for sexual victimization of and perpetration by members of Greek-Letter Organizations (GLOs; e.g., Bannon et al., 2013; Minow & Einolf, 2009). Because bystander intervention may be more effective when integrated with the community level, such as social norms in the peer environment and the physical environment (Banyard, 2011; Harris et al., 2020; McMahon, 2015), a large body of research and practice centers bystander intervention programs targeted at students involved in GLOs (Foubert et al., 2010; Moynihan & Banyard, 2008; Moynihan et al., 2011).
Finally, the societal level encompasses broad factors that create a culture in which violence is encouraged or impeded (CDC, 2019). Societal level interventions can consist of policies and laws addressing violence at a state or federal level and include Title IX and the 2011 DCL (Iverson & Issadore, 2018). Federal policies often shape the landscape of institutional responses to CSA, influencing the community, relationship, and individual-level initiatives implemented by colleges and universities (Iverson & Issadore, 2018).
College Students’ Perceptions of Prevention
The majority of college students perceive sexual assault prevention education as important (Jozkowski et al., 2015). Yet, some students desire more holistic education on sexual violence as well as more education that addresses campus culture and normalizes the discussion of sex and sexual health (Garcia et al., 2012; Hackman et al., 2017; Hubach et al., 2019). Further, students’ views on prevention programming often differ by the format of programs, e.g., orientation sessions, campus-wide events, online courses (Garcia et al., 2012; Hayes-Smith & Levett, 2010). Students who participated in a five-week seminar course on sexual assault had positive perceptions of the initiative (Lafrance et al., 2012), while the majority of students who participated in a mandatory online training perceived the training to be ineffective, a “hoop to jump through,” and not personalized to students’ needs (Hubach et al., 2019).
Still, some scholars have found that online training does positively impact student participants’ intent to intervene in sexual assault scenarios, empathy for victims, and perceptions of social norms (but does not significantly lower RMA; Zapp et al., 2021). These differing perspectives of online programs may be explained by the various formats of online programs, but may also be explained by the quantitative nature of some prevention research, which captured results (e.g., Zapp et al., 2021), and the qualitative nature of other studies, which captured experience (e.g., Hubach et al., 2019). Furthermore, much of the prevention research centers the perceptions of research samples that include majority white students (see Harris et al., 2020). Research with predominantly white samples often eclipses scholars’ and practitioners’ ability to explore Students of Color's perceptions of prevention, which may diverge from the perceptions of white students. For instance, students who identify as women (Jozkowski et al., 2015; Worthen & Wallace, 2021), gay or lesbian (Worthen & Wallace, 2021), or People of Color (Worthen & Wallace, 2017, 2021) perceived prevention education in a more positive, or supportive, light. Men students were less likely than women students to consider sexual assault education important (Jozkowski et al., 2015; Worthen & Wallace, 2021). Being younger, having experiences of sexual violence, and involvement in a student organization were also predictors of students perceiving prevention education as important (Jozkowski et al., 2015).
In one of the few qualitative prevention studies, Black and white women students’ perceptions of education and the need for bystander intervention sometimes diverged from one another (Hackman et al., 2017). Black women students acknowledged that the Black community at their institution was tight-knit and more supportive than the predominantly white community that saturated the university, which influences their needs for and experiences with prevention and CSA. Students’ identities also influence perceptions of the effectiveness of prevention programs. Queer students often perceive heteronormative biases in programming, e.g., program scenarios of sexual assault only occur in heterosexual contexts or relationships (Worthen & Baker, 2014; Worthen & Wallace, 2017, 2021). Some women student survivors perceive that prevention programming can be emotionally triggering and that their personal experiences with violence allowed them to perceive flaws with some prevention programs (Worthen & Wallace, 2021).
Although the aforementioned research demonstrates how students’ identities influence their perceptions of prevention programming, scholars often view students’ identities as discrete categories (e.g., Jozkowski et al., 2015). For example, scholars have centered women students and People of Color, but they have not explored Women of Color students’ perceptions of CSA prevention. Furthermore, more research must center on how peer environment and other institutional characteristics might also influence students’ identities and, subsequently, their perceptions of CSA prevention. Survivors of CSA offer valuable insights into the effectiveness and ineffectiveness of prevention education and their perceptions can, and should, be used to design prevention programming that affects change (Worthen & Wallace, 2021).
Standpoint Theory
In an effort to center and explore the perceptions of CSA prevention from Women of Color student survivors, this study is framed by standpoint theory. Standpoint theory operates from the understanding that women and other oppressed groups occupy social locations that result in privileged, or different, perspectives on the social world that work to challenge master narratives of knowledge production (Harding, 2004; Yuval-Davis, 2012). Positioning the perspectives of Women of Color “into the center of analysis may reveal aspects of reality obscured by more orthodox approaches” (Collins, 1986, p. 515), such as quantitative research and framing white cis-heterosexual students’ knowledge as the only valid form of knowing.
With standpoint theory, scholars are encouraged to place “less emphasis on individual experiences within socially constructed groups than on the social conditions that construct such groups” (Collins, 1997, p. 375; see also Yuval-Davis, 2012). Collins (1997) explained further: Standpoint theory argues that groups who share common placement in hierarchical power relations also share common experiences in such power relations. Such shared angles of vision lead those in similar social locations to be predisposed to interpret these experiences in a comparable fashion. (p. 377)
Aligning with its label as a feminist theory, standpoint theory is often used to center the knowledge of women as one group (Richardson & Taylor, 2009). Yet, some scholars have critiqued standpoint theory for disregarding the racialized reality of gender and for essentializing all women's experiences as white women's experiences (e.g., Collins, 1986, 1997; Richardson & Taylor, 2009). Collins (1997) asserted that the standpoints of white women and Women of Color are often different because these groups “occupy fundamentally different locations in hierarchical power relations” (p. 379). Thus, scholars can, and should, account for the standpoints of Women of Color as a group and disaggregate these experiences from the collective standpoint of white womanhood.
Within this research, we use standpoint theory to center Women of Color student survivors as the group standpoint of interest. In the 1970s, the term “Women of Color” grew out of a movement of resistance and a need for solidarity among a group of racially minoritized women who share a similar position in a U.S. hierarchy of oppression (Roshanravan, 2010; Western States Center, 2011). “Women of Color” is a “solidarity definition, a commitment to work in collaboration with other oppressed Women of Color who have been ‘minoritized’” (Western States Center, 2011, p. 1:30). The history of power and oppression for Women of Color in a U.S. context are “social conditions” (Collins, 1997, p. 375) that have shaped Women of Color into a political group that often shares a unique perspective on the world and, more specifically, on violence.
More recently, the term “Women of Color” has become a biological reference, rather than a solely political one (Western States Center, 2011), which risks placing Women of Color into a monolithic group of people who share the exact same experiences. Yet, standpoint theory encourages scholars to acknowledge that “the existence of the group as the unit of analysis neither means that all individuals within the group have the same experiences nor that they interpret them in the same way” (Collins, 1997, p. 377). We use the term “Women of Color” to center the social location and resulting standpoint of Women of Color as a political group, not a biological one, that often shares a history of power and oppression. Centering Women of Color as a group allows us to acknowledge the “social, cultural, and historical specificity of one's location and embodied knowledge as crucial in developing and mobilizing effective strategies to end violence against women and their communities” (Roshanravan, 2010, p. 6). In centering the experiences of Women of Color, we challenge much of the current literature that centers quantitative measurements of prevention as truth and/or centers only the standpoint of white womanhood.
Methods
As a methodology, standpoint theory “is committed to the production of information women want and need in their struggles to survive and to flourish” (Harding, 2009, p. 103). Aligning with standpoint theory, we used a critical qualitative approach (Pasque et al., 2012) to explore 44 Women of Color undergraduate students’ perceptions of sexual assault prevention. Critical qualitative inquiry “engages with and intervenes with the dominant discourses of our time” (Pasque et al., 2012, p. 2), encouraging scholars to account for and challenge structures of domination embedded throughout society and educational institutions. A critical qualitative approach allows for an exploration into Women of Color students’ perceptions of CSA prevention, while contextualizing these experiences within larger structures and systems (Pasque et al., 2012).
Research Sites
The second author recruited participants from four different higher education institutions located in or near an urban city in the Western U.S (Table 1). Three institutions are public with an undergraduate enrollment of approximately 20,000–30,000 students at each institution. The fourth institution is private with approximately 2,000 students in the undergraduate student body. All institutions have a Title IX Office, a Counseling Center, and a Sexual Violence Advocacy and Education Office. Where relevant, women's narratives are connected to the institutional context. However, aligning with the research question, this study is more concerned with women's perceptions of prevention across the four institutions, rather than the similarities and differences between institutions. We use pseudonyms for all places and people in this study.
Institutional Sites and Participant Demographics.
Participants
The second author used their preexisting professional networks at each institution to recruit Women of Color undergraduate students who experienced CSA. Student affairs professionals, chairs of academic departments, and relevant student groups disseminated recruitment messages via LIST-SERVS, social media, and posting flyers on campus. Recruitment messages included a link to the study website that interested participants could browse to gain detailed information about the study and to express interest in participating in the research. Interested participants were asked to fill out a Qualtrics survey that allowed the second author to gauge if they met the criteria for participation, which required that participants be 18 years old or older, self-identify as a woman, self-identify with a racially minoritized population, and have experienced CSA while an undergraduate student at one of the four research sites. Forty-four cisgender Women of Color students participated in the research process (Table 1). Participants held multiple, multifaceted racial identities and heritages including: Black and white, South Asian, Asian-Vietnamese, Chicanx, African American, and Non-Black Woman of Color. Women also identified with several intersecting identities, including queer, daughter, partner, mentally unhealthy, first-generation college student, immigrant, and pansexual. In an effort to maintain confidentiality of women's identities, we do not offer detailed information about each participant in a separate chart. However, we offer relevant information for each participant when quoted in the findings section.
Data Collection
The main data for this research were collected over two 90-minute semi-structured interviews with each participant. In total, the first and second authors conducted 86 interviews across 44 participants at four different institutions (due to scheduling conflicts, two participants--one from Institution Two and one from Institution Three--did not complete the second interview). All interviews were audio-recorded and transcribed verbatim. The purpose of the first interview was to build rapport with each participant, inquire about their family and educational upbringing, and to explore their academic and social expectations and experiences on campus. In the first interview, women described their encounter(s) with CSA, including their individual experiences with prevention, reporting, and healing. After the first set of interviews was completed and transcribed, the second author read back through the transcripts while writing memos that summarized participants’ narratives and noted in/consistencies observed within and across transcripts. From this preliminary analysis, the second author constructed the second interview protocol. The purpose of the second 90-minute interview was to follow up on the in/consistencies from the first interviews and to explore how institutional and socio-historical structures influenced participants’ individual experiences with CSA, including CSA prevention.
Data Analysis
Standpoint theory, which centers “the existence of the group as the unit of analysis” (Collins, 1997, p. 377) while also understanding that the group may share similar and different perceptions, led us to analyze the data using thematic analysis, which focuses on the patterns the researchers observe within a data set (Braun & Clarke, 2006). First, both authors independently read each of the 86 transcripts while using open coding to identify and draw out categories that represented women students’ perceptions of prevention programming (Saldaña, 2009). The first author generated 81 codes and the second author generated 49 codes through this open-coding process. Examples of codes that the first author generated from the open-coding process include a focus on risk reduction, education about sexual assault in high school, blame, and peer support. Examples of open codes from the second author include peer culture, language, consent, oppression, rape myths, and victim blaming.
Next, each author went back to the transcripts and used axial coding to analyze and connect the ways the open codes related to one another and to participants’ perceptions of CSA prevention programming (Saldaña, 2009). From the axial-coding process, the first author generated eight categories, such as ineffectiveness of current prevention methods, harmfulness of current prevention methods, prevention as first-year education, and lack of attention to power. The second author generated seven categories from the axial-coding process, including orientation programming; online programming; bystander intervention; power, oppression, andidentity; and lack of discussion.
Next, the authors met to talk about the initial themes they generated from the coding processes and discuss possible in/consistencies in their observations. In this meeting, the authors agreed that they both observed similar stories and categories from the data. The authors first identified what categories overlapped from their separate coding processes and merged these categories into the following three themes: online training prior to college, presentations during new student orientation, and a narrow view of who perpetrates sexual assault. For example, both authors generated “bystander intervention” as a category that was later represented under the larger theme of “a narrow view of who perpetrates sexual assault.” The categories “lack of attention to power” and “power, oppression and identity” were merged into the broad theme of “presentations during new student orientation.” “Online programming,” “lack of education,” and “ineffectiveness of current prevention methods” were categories that were eventually connected to the theme “online training prior to college.”
Some of the initial categories and codes, such as “suggestions,” were not merged into the three themes because they did not address or answer the research question. The qualitative data analysis process was messy, not straightforward, as some categories and codes overlapped with multiple, if not all three, themes. To guide our analysis process, we continually reflected on the research question, extant literature, the SEM, and elements of standpoint theory. After the authors met, they went back, individually, to the transcripts one final time with the three themes in mind to review, revise, and refine the themes they observed across the data.
Trustworthiness
To ensure trustworthiness, the researchers used member checking (Lincoln & Guba, 1985). The second author sent all participants a brief write-up of the initial themes observed across the interviews and solicited feedback. Both authors used peer debriefing throughout the research process (Merriam, 2009). Throughout data collection, the second author also debriefed with professionals working in sexual assault advocacy at each institution. While exploring the data and writing the current article, the authors consistently debriefed with one another (Merriam, 2009). Finally, both authors reflected on their positions surrounding the research process. The first author is a cisgender Woman of Color doctoral student who formerly served as a sexual violence prevention educator on a college campus. Her experiences working in violence prevention and in a university cultural center motivate her to study the sexual violence experiences of racially minoritized students using critical frameworks. The second author identifies as a cisgender Woman of Color and is a junior faculty member. Many of her experiences as a Woman of Color working and learning within historically white, heteronormative, and patriarchal environments led her to focus on the experiences of Women of Color with CSA.
Findings
Through our analysis of 44 Women of Color undergraduate students’ narratives of CSA, we observed three major themes concerning participants’ perceptions of prevention programming: online training prior to college, presentations during new student orientation, and a narrow view of who perpetrates sexual assault. The three themes are not mutually exclusive. For example, online prevention trainings were often connected to participants’ experiences with first-year orientation, and some Women of Color in this research received messaging around who perpetrates sexual assault through online modules or during new student orientation.
Perceptions of Online Training
Several participants spoke in detail about the online prevention program training they were mandated to complete in preparation for entering college. At the time of data collection, all four institutions required students to complete an online educational program prior to or by the end of their first enrolled term. Faye, an Indian woman, described the online training: “I remember that we had to do an online training before we came to [Institution One] about alcohol and sexual assault.” Some women participants, such as Anaya, an Asian–Indian woman, described further their perceptions of the online training: During orientation, we had a mandatory module that we had to do. But, I know that a lot of people, me including, kind of hacked it to just get through. So, there was that and there honestly wasn't much else that I can remember.
Lara, an African/Black woman, also offered her perceptions of how online training was somewhat ineffective: I know personally, and talking to my friends about it, people just kind of click through it. And, nobody actually pays attention. You just try to do it as fast as you can. And, if [the online training has] information about what … resources your school has for these things, I definitely skipped it. … I think that it's not a super effective way to get important information across.
Several participants perceived that the online training was not “super effective,” primarily because students moved through it without a requirement to fully engage with the content. The cursory nature of these online programs is even more concerning when some women, such as Anaya, perceived “there wasn't much else,” or that online prevention programming was the only prevention or education program they received throughout their time at the institution.
Building on the above perceptions of ineffective programming, Felicia, an Asian–Indian woman, described further why she and her peers may click through the program with little to no engagement: I think it's really difficult just to get students to pay attention to something that they don't see as an immediate need or something super threatening. If you don't take it with the seriousness that I obviously now take it, I think it's difficult to sit through that module or do things like that. I think that [Institution Two] is still not at the point where they’ve figured out solutions that are engaging and will actually get people to listen and take it as seriously as it is.
Felicia perceived that her institution had not implemented an online program that engaged the attention of students. Therefore, it was not necessarily the mode (online) of virtual prevention programming that women perceived as an issue; rather, it may have been the lack of engagement that the content of online courses offered students.
Perceptions of In-person Prevention Programming at Orientation
Participants explored their perceptions of both the format and the content of prevention programming they received during their in-person orientation sessions.
Orientation Prevention Programming: A Constraining Format
Participants often explored how in-person new-student orientation included a unit or program on CSA prevention. Participants described these sessions as “lectures” that were often given to “large groups” that consisted of videos or theatrical skits presented by orientation staff, whether student staff or professional staff. For example, Erika, an Indian woman, described her orientation prevention programming as “an assembly type thing … where they just played a video about sexual assault and it was around frat parties or something like that.”
Women in this research often perceived that the large group format was not conducive to learning about, or preventing, sexual assault. Alice, a Vietnamese woman, explained her experience with in-person orientation at her large, public institution. Alice first relayed, “There was that orientation presentation I guess, but a lot of people don't take that seriously.” After the researcher asked Alice, “Why not?” she continued, “I guess it's because you’re forcing hundreds of people in the same room to watch this movie about it. It's weird. You can't actually talk to people around you about what you’re seeing.” Rayn, a South Asian woman, stated, “[Orientation prevention programming] was just so surface level, and because it was so many people, I didn't feel safe enough to react to what was going on, to process or to ask questions.” Later, Rayn added to her perceptions of the large group format, citing another reason that being in a large room with many other students listening to an in-person prevention program was an uncomfortable experience: [The campus staff that presented] tiptoed around the fact that rape culture is a huge part of assault on campus. It was just a very uncomfortable experience to just be around 800 other people who you’ve never known. And this desire to fit in and make friends at orientation [is] encouraging you to laugh at this presentation and not take it seriously.
The large group format often was not conducive to effective prevention programming because large groups of students who did not know one another may have influenced students’ inability to authentically and deeply discuss the content of the program.
Discussion within these groups is important because, as Erika mentioned, if CSA is not discussed on campus “you’re not going to understand it—you need to discuss it, you need to teach it yourself.” A lack of discussion may have led to an understanding that CSA is, as Margaret, a Mexican/Asian–Indian woman, acknowledged, very “black and white.” Padma, a South Asian woman, agreed: “The conversation [during orientation] around consent was super short, to the point, which was useless … that whole, yes means yes, no means no kind of binary. That didn't really talk about real situations.” Here, like women's perceptions of online prevention programming, participants perceived ineffective content, but also perceived that the mode of the program (large, in-person groups) may also be limiting.
Orientation Prevention Programming: Lack of Focus on Power and Identity
Some participants also explored their perceptions concerning the lack of attention orientation prevention programs paid to issues of power and identity in CSA. Sexual assault is rooted in systems of power and oppression; subsequently, prevention and eradication of CSA is dependent on accounting for power and oppression in intervention efforts (Harris & Linder, 2017). Further, an absence of issues of power and identity in prevention education shapes, and is shaped by, a lack of analysis of the impacts of CSA on different communities and identities (Harris & Linder, 2017; Hong & Marine, 2018).
Some women in this research perceived a lack of representational diversity in orientation prevention programs. In referencing a video “made with all these frat people” about CSA education, Erika shared, “Yeah, all of [the actors in the video] were white. All of them were heterosexual. And [they] spoke in a way that assumed everyone was just like them.” Similarly, Rayn perceived a lack of queer representation in the orientation prevention program she attended: I don't know how queer folks would relate. … I didn't feel uncomfortable doing the presentation, but how do you look at this from the perspective of queerness? This is supposed to be one of the most LGBTQ friendly campuses, but this [prevention programming] is very heteronormative.
Without inclusion of the perspectives and narratives of minoritized communities, Women of Color and other marginalized students may be excluded from the potential benefits of CSA prevention (Harris & Linder, 2017; Hong & Marine, 2018; Wooten, 2017).
Queenie expanded on how the orientation prevention programming did not account for the experiences of Women of Color and CSA: I think for that skit, thinking back to it, in the orientation, the thing was [the survivor] went to a friend and then cried and then instantly she reported it, you know? There's a very interesting linear message in the story … even in the modules, “And my friend just said last night happened.” For a lot of times, for the stories, of all the MeToo things, a lot of it for Women of Color takes a long time to process.
Queenie hinted at how Women of Color student survivors of CSA are often less likely than white women to report, disclose, and/or discuss their CSA experiences with others (McMahon & Seabrook, 2019). Yet, Queenie perceived the “linear” scenarios of reporting and disclosing CSA presented in the orientation prevention program did not account for these nuances of identity and, more specifically, the intersections of racism and sexism.
In sharing her perceptions of a video presented as part of a prevention training during her first-year, Katrina, a Black/African American woman, perceived: I know that sexual assault can be … all different types of situations, maybe things are confusing, but not about the sex, more just about the power. The power dynamic that is still intact even after the video, even after 18 years on this earth, even during the most globalized, social network-connected world. Power's interesting that way, especially the way it projects itself to the world from the male in your life.
Katrina named how sexual assault and power are intricately intertwined, but that one video will not necessarily disrupt, or educate about, the power dynamics rife within sexual assault. When the interviewer asked if the orientation video addressed power, Katrina answered: I don't remember. I think if it did I would remember. It would be a new way of having someone talk to you about it. Because I think there was a couple years of my life where I didn't understand that part of the definition of what rape was. I thought it was purely sexual. … But when you understand the power dynamic, you understand a lot more about rape culture, you know? So, no. Probably not.
While Katrina highlights the issues of power inherent in sexual assault and emphasizes the importance of these power dynamics in understanding rape culture, she also perceives a lack of content on power in the educational video presented during her orientation session. Study participants’ perceptions of the shortcomings of both the format and content of prevention programming during orientation highlight a need to shift current practices.
A Narrow View of Who Perpetrates Sexual Assault
Several women in this research shared their perceptions of how institutional prevention programs shaped their understandings of how and where sexual assault occurred and, more specifically, who perpetrated sexual assault. Often, women suggested that their institution add different perpetration scenarios and portray different types of perpetrators--e.g., stranger, acquaintance--within these programs. Zara, a half-Egyptian and half-white woman, shared an example of a sexual assault scenario presented during a second-year training for an organization in which she was a member: I just remember there was a part where some guy spiked a girl's drink. But the thing is, I feel like that's not realistic in comparison to how [this institution] functions. It's not something that happens all the time, it's more like … it's a different type of situation than I think might occur at such a small university.
Zara went on to explain that the scenario of a stranger spiking a drink would not likely occur because the majority of the students at her institution knew one another and the peer environment was close-knit. She observed that, at her institution, “oftentimes, a perpetrator is someone that someone knows” and depicting an acquaintance instead of a stranger in this prevention program would be “more realistic.”
Similar to Zara's point about depictions of strangers as perpetrators of CSA, other participants perceived that some prevention programs promoted the rape myth that perpetrators of sexual assault were often strangers. Jane explored how her institution's bystander intervention program, Green Dot, did not cover the nuances of CSA: In first year, I guess my first exposure to [CSA] was very surface level. … How do they call it, the green dot? So if you see something happen, very explicit visible cases in public. For example, getting stalked in public, stuff like that, different ways to navigate that and intervene. But [the institution] never, ever said anything, even to this day, I don't remember any space in terms of classroom or educational, institutionalized space where they talk about, “Oh okay, what if it happens from someone you love, someone like a partner, domestic partner kind of thing.” It was always talked about like, “Oh some random stranger is going to come for you.” Not that that doesn't happen, but I think it's more often the case, well, these people who are in your life, like your close network kind of thing, how do you deal with that? And those nuances?
Similar to Jane, Margaret noted how scenarios offered through prevention programs should move away from the portrayal of strangers as potential perpetrators, but she also contradicted some of Jane's perceptions and needs for bystander intervention: Maybe if they gave us more examples. All the examples that they gave us were like, they were in a relationship, and it was just like they crossed the boundary of consent. And especially being in Greek life, I feel like they should talk more about alcohol being involved or if it's just not like a stranger, but like someone you’re not dating. So, I think that would’ve been a little more effective with real-world kind of just touches.
Above, Zara asks for fewer situations concerning strangers and more that focus on acquaintances. Jane desires for her institution to highlight sexual assault in romantic relationships and to spend less time on stranger rape. Margaret hopes for more of a focus on assault between acquaintances, veering away from scenarios that involve romantic relationships. All women perceive a focus on stranger rape, which may not be greatly beneficial to preventing CSA because strangers are statistically less likely to be perpetrators of CSA (Lopez et al., 2019). Furthermore, while it may appear that many of the participants wanted their institution to focus on only one specific type of sexual assault scenario--e.g., stranger rape, acquaintance rape--their needs and suggestions were quite the opposite. Women wanted “more examples” of who could perpetrate assault, as well as how and where CSA occurred, included in prevention programming.
Cinnamon, a Black/African American woman, demonstrates her hopes for more nuance in the portrayals of how sexual assault might occur. Cinnamon acknowledged a gap, directly stating that at her institution “people just don't know too much about [sexual assault] because they don't hear a lot about it. … Having the lack of representation in that doesn't help.” Not fully understanding what she meant by “representation,” the second author asked Cinnamon, “What do you mean by lack of representation?” She responded with more detail: Representation as in the sense of different ways people are assaulted. Not necessarily the different looks of people, or the different sexualities, different genders. But just the way that it goes about. Like, sometimes they’ll do the drunken scene, where it's like, “Oh, well, they’re both drunk. That leaves some funny situation.” Even though the person shouldn't have done that to the other person. And then, there's the one where it's like, again, the stranger rape. But you hardly see anything where the person is being talked into it and coerced. You don't really see that.
Cinnamon suggested that the institution move away from focusing on incapacitated rape and stranger rape and spend more time on assault that involves coercion. Women's perceptions of institutional prevention efforts elucidate how some of this programming constructs specific understandings of who can perpetrate sexual assault, as well as the context in which perpetration occurs. Unfortunately, this programming often constructs a narrow view of perpetration, limiting students’ awareness and knowledge of CSA and how to work toward the prevention of CSA.
Discussion
Through this research, we explored Women of Color student survivors’ perceptions of sexual assault prevention programming in U.S. colleges and universities. In foregrounding the narratives of Women of Color survivors, findings from this research build on and contribute new knowledge to existing research and practice on CSA prevention. For example, while the SEM identifies the interplay between individual, relationship, community, and societal levels as integral to preventing CSA (CDC, 2019; Krug et al., 2002), some participants’ perceptions of campus prevention suggest that institutions often neglect this interplay, resulting in prevention programming that may fall short. Specifically, some Women of Color named how their institution offered scenarios on perpetration/who can perpetrate (relationship level), but the environment (community level) of the institution was not accounted for in this education.
Women of Color survivors of CSA also perceived that some prevention programming upheld rape myths, specifically, the myth of (the prevalence of) stranger rape. In reviewing the available information online for Green Dot and for all four institutions' prevention programs, we did not observe messaging around rape myths, i.e., stranger rape, embedded into the curricula. While the institution may not actively support or include rape myths in prevention programming, these programs did little to disrupt the rape myths that many students bring to the college environment (McMahon, 2010). In prevention programs, participants perceived a consistent lack of examples, representation, and nuance concerning how, and between whom, sexual assault can occur on campus. This finding is concerning because many prevention programs aim to reduce rape myth acceptance (see Harris et al., 2020), which may impact rates of sexual assault on campus (e.g., Coker et al., 2015). Furthermore, students who hold higher RMA are often less likely to intervene in sexual assault scenarios (Bannon et al., 2013; McMahon, 2010).
Several participants also perceived that orientation prevention programs were “surface level” and did not engage them, through content or format, in CSA education. Regarding format, Women of Color participants explored how large, lecture-style prevention programs centered “more orthodox approaches” (Collins, 1986, p. 515) that may reflect the values of a banking system of knowledge tied to white, male, and heteronormative culture (Freire, 2000; Yosso, 2005). Large, lecture-style prevention programs did not allow for collaborative learning and community building through dialog, mechanisms of communication that Communities of Color often value and practice (see Yosso, 2005).
Regarding content of orientation prevention programming, some women explored how the information within this programming focused solely on the individual or relationship levels of the SEM (CDC, 2019; Krug et al., 2002). Some women, such as Rayn, mentioned that prevention programming often fell short in engaging rape culture on campus (community level), while other women perceived a lack of engagement with societal levels that influence CSA, including power and oppression. For example, several survivors in this research perceived that orientation videos, skits, and other workshops did not account for race or sexuality. Women of Color often perceived this marginalization through programming because they belong to a group of women “who share common placement in hierarchical power relations,” and these women “also share common experiences in such power relations” (Collins, 1997, p. 377). Aligning with previous research (Worthen & Baker, 2014; Worthen & Wallace, 2017, 2021), women often perceived that their experiences were not reflected in these race-neutral and heteronormative prevention programs and, therefore, it was hard to “relate” to and learn from these programs. Subsequently, CSA prevention education that centers on white, heteronormative narratives may limit effectiveness for preventing sexual assault for Women of Color and other minoritized students on campus (Harris & Linder, 2017; Wooten, 2017).
Finally, supporting previous research findings, some Women of Color perceived that online education was “not a super effective way” to educate students on CSA because students clicked through the course, disengaged, and may have finished the educational session with little to no new knowledge on CSA (Hubach et al., 2019). However, some scholars have found that online programming does positively impact first-year student participants’ intention to intervene in sexual assault scenarios, empathy for victims, and perceptions of social norms (but does not significantly lower RMA; Zapp et al., 2021). These contradictory findings may be explained by the homogeneity of study samples in previous quantitative research, which is often comprised of majority cisgender, white, heterosexual students who do not reflect a diversity of perceptions and outcomes for online prevention programming (see Harris et al., 2020; Zapp et al., 2021). Future research must explore the dis/associations between perceptions of, engagement in, and outcomes from participating in online prevention programming.
Implications
To address participants’ perceptions of the lack of engagement with other students during CSA education, leaders of higher education institutions must reimagine the format of prevention programming that occurs during orientation and online . For instance, staff might institute small-group discussions that act as opportunities for students to process what they are learning about CSA. In addition, institutional leaders can offer more sustained and constant prevention education through first-year academic seminars, or institute an academic course requirement that centers on gender inequity, violence, healthy relationships, and other relevant topics to prevent CSA. Regardless of the approach, a shift in program format and structure is necessary in order to move beyond “surface level” education toward more engaging and often, more effective, prevention for all students.
Prevention programming must also center issues of power and identity to move away from being “surface level” programs that do not engage students in impactful educational content. Representation of minoritized students’ experiences, in both the characters and narratives portrayed in prevention education, is necessary. For instance, prevention educators should present complex narratives of survivors’ help-seeking processes, in contrast to those like the “linear” disclosure scenario described by Queenie. Queer relationships and the narratives of Women of Color survivors must be represented in scenarios of CSA for educational programs to have influence with a diverse student population. CSA curricula should include explicit discussions of systems of power and oppression, which will foster the development of students’ critical consciousness and address the root causes of sexual violence. As an example, the Campus Advocacy, Resources and Education program at the University of California, Riverside centered their annual Sexual Assault Awareness Month events in 2021 around the theme of “Honoring the legacy of Black, Indigenous, and People of Color in the past and present who have shaped the anti-sexual-violence movement.”
Prevention educators must also critically consider how their programming reflects the context of their institutions, particularly when including scenarios that may lead to sexual assault. As seen from study findings, implementing prevention programming curricula without adaptation to local campus and community contexts may be ineffective in intervening in situations that lead to sexual assault. Educators should include a diverse array of contexts and scenarios of perpetration in all prevention programs that disrupt the belief that only strangers perpetrate assault and/or that perpetration is a fixed, not nuanced, scenario. As highlighted by participants, scenarios should involve acquaintances, partners, coercion, and friends, instead of solely strangers or one specific, narrow context and perpetrator.
Future research must focus on investigating the format and content of prevention education programs. Research must explore the effectiveness of different program structures, evaluating whether small-group dialogs are more effective than large-group lectures. Although some research suggests online CSA trainings positively influence students’ intent to intervene in sexual assault situations and increase empathy for survivors (Zapp et al., 2021), current findings question who is being targeted in these trainings. Researchers should investigate this discrepancy in students’ perceptions of the success of online trainings by disaggregating student identity. More broadly, scholars should aim to understand how, and why, CSA curricular content is less or more engaging for different student groups; participants in this study often felt the content was not relevant to their lives. Due to participants’ narratives highlighting the importance of context in prevention programs and perpetration of assault, scholars should explore the effectiveness of prevention programs at different institutional types. For example, researchers might ask, “How does Green Dot implementation and efficacy differ at a predominantly white institution compared to a historically black college or university? At a research-intensive university compared to a liberal arts college?” Finally, quantitative research that assesses how prevention programs may reinforce rape myths, and how this reinforcement influences CSA prevention, is necessary to disrupt rape culture on campuses.
In conclusion, this study highlights the need for CSA research to explore different standpoints. Scholars must conduct additional research that investigates the standpoints of Women of Color students and students who hold other minoritized identities in relation to CSA prevention and response. In order to effectively address and prevent CSA for all students, future research and practice must account for the nuances and perspectives that are currently missing in the literature and that often are not addressed through existing institutional prevention programs.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The authors declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The authors disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: This work was supported by the University of California Los Angeles (grant number Faculty Career Development Award).
