There is a difference between being listened to and being heard. Being heard suggests a deeper level of understanding and empathy, where the listener acknowledges and responds to your perspective, concerns and needs, internalizes what you have shared and takes action.
This is what I have learned as an advocate for survivors of sexual and domestic violence.
On Sunday, Sept. 15, I attended the Pittsburgh Universities Believe Survivors [PUBS] march sponsored by Carlow University, the University of Pittsburgh, Carnegie Mellon University, Duquesne University, Point Park University and Chatham University.
This alliance of passionate supporters has been united around the common goal of preventing domestic and sexual violence through advocacy, education and supportive interventions since the event’s formation in April 2022. The goal was, and still is, to ensure that the responses to survivors are considerate of trauma and culturally sensitive.
Before attending a PUBS March last November, I had never heard of “the red zone,” which refers to the first few weeks of school in which college students are most at risk of experiencing sexual violence. At first, I thought it was a name only college students used, such as “hell week,” referring to finals, and “frat flue,” for the campus cold passed around every December. I was wrong.
The red zone is a reality, and it’s essential to be aware of it, even while knowing that sexual misconduct or sexual violence impacts every community and can happen at any time in the school year. This time, I understood why we were all here, why this event needed to happen so early in the school year and how uninformed I once was.
‘Love shouldn’t hurt’
I have not personally experienced domestic or sexual misconduct, but I have had the privilege of listening to the powerful and courageous stories of survivors. I have felt deep frustration and empathy through their stories. I can hear the resounding call from survivors seeking healing, desiring action and the reassurance of a safe and supportive environment – with no victim-blaming allowed.
At this fall’s PUBS march, blank white signs and colorful markers were the tools we used to make our voices bold by writing our thoughts in big, audacious, vivid letters: “Love shouldn’t hurt,” “Abuse and neglect negate love” (a quote from bell hooks), and “Stop the violence. Start the change.”
Beginning at CMU’s Tepper Quad, students, survivors and allies greeted one another — some for the first time, others as friends, colleagues and partners. We collected our matching T-shirts and got to know each other’s school years, institutions and companions. I knew few from my institution, Chatham University. That didn’t stop me from connecting with those nearby by complimenting the earrings of a university alum.
Before the march, I spoke with Carrie Benson, the director of sexual violence prevention and education at Pitt, and she described the march as “a celebration of the strength and courage that survivors possess while also acknowledging the harm survivors must heal from after experiencing sexual misconduct.”
Carlow and Pitt students spoke about how survival is just the beginning and how healing is not a straight path. It is messy and hard, but it does not have to be done alone.
“This event offers allies and advocates a space to listen, learn and deepen their understanding of the challenges survivors can face,” said Ryan Wilpula, assistant director of education and outreach at CMU. “I’d encourage everyone not to let their involvement stop with the march.”
After hearing the guest speakers and their words, we learned the chants we would repeat on our 15-minute march from CMU to Pitt’s William Pitt Union. We practiced chanting, “Hey, hey, ho, ho, sexual violence has got to go,” “End the same; no more blame” and “However we dress, wherever we go, yes means yes, and no means no.”
‘We believe you!’
At noon, we marched through Oakland. Kelisa Hysenbegasi, a Pitt graduate student, and Dev Hayostek, Pitt’s lead sexual violence prevention educator, led the march. Along with everyone else in our teal-colored PUBS march shirts, I repeated the chants called out before us. Honking drivers and video-recording spectators at the bus stop showed their support or displeasure while police cars blocked the road for our safety.
It is hard not to feel seen as traffic is stopped so you and your comrades in blue with their striking signs can cross the street. Step after step, the energy was palpable. A mix of determination and solidarity surged through the crowd as we continued to stay in rhythm while dodging fire hydrants, garbage bins and other obstacles. Each chant was a cry fueling the resolve to make a difference, to fill a sense of purpose, to share experiences, leaving a lasting impression on everyone involved.
“Advocacy is vital to creating necessary change,” Benson said. “Coming together to march equips community members with skills and knowledge of how to directly support survivors as well as a call to action to engage in the work that can be done here in Pittsburgh and on our college campuses to prevent sexual violence.”
At the William Pitt Union, we heard stories from brave survivors who emphasized the importance of showing respect, love and kindness to everyone while working toward peace. They stressed the need to end the cycle of domestic and sexual violence by sharing personal stories and advocating for change until sexual violence is eradicated.
This was an ordinary Sunday, but this was also an extraordinary lesson on what love is and what love is not.
“We hope survivors feel a sense of healing, connection and reassurance that they are not alone and that a supportive community stands with them,” said Wilpula. “We want all attendees to walk away feeling empowered to raise awareness, speak out against harm and actively work to create safe environments where survivors are believed, supported and valued.”
Pittsburgh Action Against Rape, the Women’s Center & Shelter of Greater Pittsburgh and the Prevention at Pitt team provided pamphlets, stickers, pens and buttons at the resource fair. They also organized interactive learning activities, including a bracelet-making station, therapy dogs, a counseling booth and a healthy relationship Jenga table.
At the end of the march and the speeches, we concluded with one last chant that became the day’s anthem. Looking around, I saw staff, students, volunteers and employees. I didn’t know all of their stories. I didn’t know if they were survivors or allies, friends or organization directors, followers or leaders. But I knew one thing as we all cleared our sore throats for our last — but not final — message. We were all believers as we screamed, “We see you! We hear you! We believe you!”
Sydney Altfather is a senior at Chatham University and can be reached at firstperson@publicsource.org.
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