It’s terrifying being a woman on a college campus
When speaking out comes at such a personal cost, silence can begin to feel safer than the risk of being heard.

As a woman, it’s hard for me to say I feel safe at school.
Every time I walk downtown at night, I check behind me, making sure nobody is trailing me from a distance. I hold on to my purse with a death grip at parties, trying to ensure that unfamiliar guys can’t get close. I call my boyfriend when I take Ubers because who knows if I’ll actually make it home with a stranger driving.
Endless cat calls, rape jokes and my own paranoia have made me the woman I am today.
When I was touring colleges my senior year of high school, a main priority for my mom was safety. She asked tour guides if there were safety protocols in place, questioning if there were crisis services to go to. I listened passively, failing to comprehend her concern.
Now, I understand she was right to be worried. No amount of emergency call boxes lining the campus streets can deter the University of Missouri’s glaring rape culture. Mizzou’s 2026 safety report showed that reports of domestic violence and rape increased by almost 40% in one year – and that’s just what was brought to police attention.
Sexual violence doesn’t always announce itself. Sometimes, it comes from the person you trust the most, or hides in the ringing laughter of a man who has learned to find humor in someone else’s pain.
I can count on more than one hand the number of my friends who have experienced sexual assault. None of us have ever come forward about our stories.
“Jane Doe,” a former student at Cornell University, recently came forward; the adverse reactions she faced are a painful reminder of why so many survivors remain silent. Seeing the way her story has been met with scrutiny and criticism has only deepened the fear my friends and I carry about our own experiences, even becoming hesitant to discuss them with one another.
When speaking out comes at such a personal cost, silence can begin to feel safer than the risk of being heard.
Doe filed a 101-page lawsuit against Cornell’s leadership for its failure to protect her. She claims she was gang raped by seven fraternity men.
The internet has been divided, with some praising her for her bravery, while others criticize her actions and take to their platforms to victim-blame. Although the case blew up on platforms like TikTok and Instagram weeks ago, it has still been receiving a considerable amount of traction – most of it, I’ve seen, being negative backlash.
Prominently, Megyn Kelly, a former Fox News anchor, used her forum to attack the unnamed woman. Kelly claims she knows who the real Jane Doe is and is using her platform to publish offensive, unrelated and damaging comments about Doe’s appearance.
“I’m just going to be honest, she’s not the most attractive gal,” Kelly said on her SiriusXM show. “She’s probably thrilled to be so admired because she clearly didn’t grow up the incredibly beautiful one.”
Kelly continued, describing how Doe must have intentionally decided to get in on the assault and enjoyed it, completely disregarding how someone who is blacked out drunk cannot give consent under Cornell University Policy 6.4.
Misogynistic comments such as Kelly’s shift the narrative from the men who committed these crimes, instead relying on scapegoating tactics to somehow justify their actions.
Aside from prevailing sexism, numerous people have produced content attempting to derail Doe’s credibility. They cite Doe’s timeline inconsistencies and initial post-rape communication with the men as reasons to oppose her and boost their own followings.
Society should not be focusing on the legitimacy of the allegations; rather, we should turn our platforms to supporting victims in need. Whether Doe’s claims against the seven men prove completely true, we should focus on the implications of the case to women everywhere.
Enduring sexual assault is something that is life-changing. As Kelly, who waited ten years to expose Roger Ailes, would know, it’s something hard to be open about -- whether it be with the public or yourself.
While I can’t speak for Doe, the most logical assumption is that she was afraid, confused and in denial immediately after the rape. As someone who has experienced all of these feelings over the span of months, I can completely and utterly understand why she changed her mind; personally, I still have doubts and fears that follow me.
Smear campaigns like this show college-aged men that it’s okay to harm women, because if the woman doesn’t report it immediately, then the incident ‘isn’t real.’ Discussions of Doe’s authenticity continue to make rape culture at universities like mine even more pronounced.
While seeing such antagonistic comments online has deeply affected me, the positive encouragement of Doe has at times outweighed the negativity. Seeing peers, male and female alike, from Mizzou post stories on Instagram expressing support for victims has made me hopeful for the future. Numerous fraternities have also issued statements expressing how they condemn abuse; one has even launched a sexual assault prevention initiative.
However, until I actually see the change, I’ll remain unwaveringly skeptical. I’ll watch my back and carefully choose those who I trust to surround me and share my story with.


