In light of recent events, including the premature release of Stanford's local rapist Brock Turner, as well as the publicizing of a narrative by CC Carreras recounting the mishandling of her own sexual assault case at a university we both attend, I have become a little more than skeptical and frustrated with our system of justice and education. As a young female, with nearly a twenty-five percent chance of becoming a victim to sexual violence as an undergraduate, you could imagine that I concern myself with our nation's history of sexual abuse and harassment. More specifically, I am concerned with Title IX proceedings, and the extent to which they are being properly executed, as well as their effectiveness in the prevention of sexual violence on campuses across the country.

The university I currently attend prides itself in its ability to protect and serve its student body. However, after campus-wide exposure to a few mishandled cases of sexual assault, there has been an open dialogue surrounding the prevention and management of sexual assault within our small campus community. Having seen cases like Brock Turner's hit mainstream media, I encourage all universities to take a new look at their own efforts to end sexual violence.

To start asking questions.

What do our criminal justice and education systems do to punish, and protect victims or future victims- from, individuals convicted of sexual assault or harassment? Title IX of The Education Amendments was signed into legislation in 1972 and has since protected individuals enrolled in educational institutions, from sex discrimination. The scope of the amendment extends to protect all individuals from sexual violence, allowing for the internal resolution of grievances and requires that educational institutions have grievance procedures in place to remedy violations of Title IX regulations. Because of the sensitive nature of incidents of sexual harassment, the amendment permits confidentiality of cases, if deemed necessary by the Title IX coordinator. In addition to filing Title IX complaints, individuals may file federal complaints if matters are not appropriately resolved.

In theory, this amendment is great. However, whether or not Title IX is followed appropriately and effectively is questionable. Whether it's the hundreds of cases that are swept under the rug every year, or cases like Turner's that hit mainstream media, it's time to start raising awareness for the cause and demand answers to our questions.

We can begin by asking ourselves, why was Turner's case so highly publicized- why were we so shocked, when there are so many incidents of undergraduate sexual assault annually? This is in large part due to the failure by universities and colleges to acknowledge harassment, and tendencies to discredit victims in order to protect the institution from the public eye. Thanks to the Jeanne Clery Disclosure of Campus Security Policy and Campus Crime Statistics Act,universities and colleges are required by the federal government to report crime statistics. In addition to this, an amendment made by the Violence Against Women Reauthorization Act of 2013, expandedthese crime statistics to include acts of sexual violence. While this data is somewhat easy to find, it seems to be rarely readily provided to, nor publicized to students and concerned members of the community.

As a law-abiding student at my own university, I feel it is not only my right to know the general criminal prosecution process at my school, in detail, but to also be made aware of our local felons. However, instances of sexual violence aren't black and white and, according to my own school, federal law prevents sharing specific case-related details. While I understand confidentiality is required to prevent retaliation and harassment of convicted individuals, and may even be requested by the victim, I feel that public release of convict information is only a minor consequence for actions of sexual violence. What seems to be even more concerning is the lack of any consequence at all.

It seems that colleges and universities will go to any length to protect their reputation, and, what seems to be a parallel between cases of mishandled allegations of rape, their athletes. Sometimes this means outright dismissing cases of sexual violence, sweeping them under the rug, or reducing court sentences in fear of negatively affecting an athlete's career. The disparity between the way professional athletes and non-athletes are treated when accused is concerning. The average non-athlete is convicted of sexual violence fifty-four percent of the time, compared to the thirty-one percent of convictions seen by student-athletes. Athletic privilege seems to weigh heavy on the decision to punish or convict students, and this trend is consistent when it comes to criminal charges in general.

What is most frustrating is the lack of sufficient punishment seen by student-athletes that commit crimes, even when they are convicted. This raises questions concerning professional athleticism and it's purpose. Why are we valuing athleticism over moral soundness, over our moral and ethical standards? And more importantly, why are we valuing athleticism over the well-being of a victim? Why do athletes convicted of criminal offenses maintain their sports scholarships or their spots on a team? And better yet, why do athletes, or anybody, convicted of criminal offenses get to stay at the university they attend? If a university would not accept individuals with "registered sex offender" or a "convicted criminal" on an application, should they be allowed to stay? The answer should be no, regardless of athletic status.

While half of the 649 students surveyed at University of Richmond reported experiencing some form of sexual harassment, nearly thirteen percent admitting to being sexually assaulted, less than four percent reported the incident to authorities. I imagine the statistics from universities across the country follow a similar pattern. It is not only disconcerting, but disappointing that of the four percent of sexual assaults actually reported, there are still many victims that feel threatened by the accused, or feel as though their case was mishandled and that there was not adequate punishment. These statistics are not encouraging to the thousands of survivors that live every day without seeing justice. Fortunately, a network of support for survivors does exist. Whether they are friends, family, or strangers like me who are here to ask the tough questions, we are here to support victims, to raise awareness and to campaign to end sexual violence. It starts with refusing to be silenced or dismissed. It starts here, it starts with us.