June 23rd. This date has been engrained in my
head for the last 8 months, a date of incredible significance. A week from today, I should be leaving for staging, leaving to serve 27 months in
Swaziland. But I wont be leaving.
It’s crazy how when you want something so bad it becomes part
of your identity. Natalie; Peace Corps. It’s like an automatic word
association. Ever since I was six years old and my own social worker showed me
pictures of her and her partner’s service in Peace Corps, I knew this was something I
wanted to do, something I was going to do.
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| Dreams & Aspirations, Age 8 |
And it was happening, a year in the making. Something I had dreamed of for as long as I
can remember- it was happening. The application questions I spent hours on, the
essays I had my friends edit repeatedly, the two and a half hour interview in
Chicago. I remember smiling while simultaneously crying the day I received my
official invitation. I couldn’t stop smiling for a week after. It was surreal.
I then began the longest medical-clearance process I could ever
imagine, involving more paper work than I filled out in my entire life. But it
all seemed worth it, because I would have the most amazing experience, the
opportunity of a lifetime.
Then I actually made it through all the paperwork. I was at
the end. I could see the other side. I was essentially medically cleared. And
it all came down to one single question, one single checked box: “Have you been
sexually assaulted in the last year?”
I have replayed this doctor’s appointment in my head so many
times--wishing I would have answered differently, skipped over that question, lied
about my experience. Because I know if I would have lied, if I would have chose
not to disclose, I would be flying to Philadelphia for staging next week.
Peace Corps has always been a dream of mine. But it’s hard
to imagine working for an organization that further stigmatizes the trauma of
sexual assault. Who places the fault and blame on the survivor, who tells me to
take a self-defense class and then apply again in a year.
1 in 5 women are sexually assaulted in America, 1 in 4 on
college campuses. And these are the women who choose to speak up, to disclose. There
are countless women who choose not to disclose these experiences. And why would
they? If they are going to be blamed, stigmatized, held back from their dreams.
Why speak up?
In
the words of my advocates (Anne Huhman & Heather Colohan) at the Sexual
Assault Prevention and Awareness Center (SAPAC): “These structural impediments
cause significant barriers for survivors and often serve to silence them. In
order to progress as a society, we need to create a culture where survivors are
not penalized; but rather, feel safe and supported in coming forward with their
story. When survivors feel punished for sharing experiences of trauma, we
create a chilling environment rather than one in which survivors feel
encouraged to come forward. The benefits that survivors experience when sharing
their stories can be significant- it can reduce stigma, help a person heal,
create connections between people who have similar experiences, and possibly
lead to powerful social change. The fact that Natalie came forward, shared her
story, sought services at SAPAC, and immediately connected with long-term
support from a therapist demonstrates incredibly strong and healthy coping
mechanisms on her part. The reactions that she has had to the trauma are very
common and out of her control.”
I was sexually assaulted, a circumstance out of my control,
and my coping mechanisms after this experience, not the experience itself,
should have been the deciding factor in my ability to serve.
I know that Peace Corps is “the hardest job you’ll ever
love” and that it comes with an incredible amount of unwanted attention and
street harassment as well as constant feelings of loneliness and isolation. Yes,
it would have been a hard job in a challenging environment, but it was one that
I would have succeeded at and thrived in.
Being assaulted hasn’t changed who I am. It hasn’t taken away
any of my strength-- if anything it has made me stronger. I know I have both
the passion and skills to be an amazing Peace Corps volunteer. I know I would
have met some of the most amazing, beautiful souls. I would have had a “life-altering”
experience, as they say, one that makes you question everything you have ever
known and forces you to see the world from a different perspective, to love strangers
on the other side of the planet as your family, to live life in an entirely
different way.
This is not an experience I will have with Peace Corps. Not
today, and maybe not ever. I realize what a privilege it was to even be
presented with the opportunity to serve in Peace Corps, and I am beyond
grateful. I do not regret this last year or the endless nights I spent in
preparation for my departure. And though at times I have questioned this, I do
not regret my integrity, a quality supposedly sought after in Peace Corps
volunteers. However, I do know if I would have lied or merely held back
information, I would be leaving for Swaziland next week.
I am a sexual assault survivor. This, an unfortunate
experience, is not my identity. Peace Corps may offer an amazing experience,
but it is not my identity either. I have so many qualities that would have allowed
me to thrive in Peace Corps service. You can take away that experience, but you
cannot take away these qualities, and you cannot take away my identity. I’m
going to do amazing work where I am. And right now that may only involve eating
oranges and playing in the sand with preschoolers. And that’s okay.