On a coaster in Nancy Radcliffe's office, a blunt but catchy slogan that sums up her job in few words is printed. It reads: "Friends don't let friends have sex with drunk or unconscious people."
Unfortunately not many college students use coasters, she said.
But for Radcliffe, coordinator of the Campus Advocacy Program at Ohio State, a network of student counselors trained to work with rape survivors, the reality of sexual assault on college campuses nationwide is no laughing matter.
"It's a huge deal," she said, pointing to statistics from a recent federal study to support her statement.
Yet, as the annual number of reported rapes on OSU's campus continues to rise, albeit slowly, most say the percentage of rapes reported to local law enforcement is consistently and decidedly low.
January is pivotal for Radcliffe and her organization, because the program is currently being evaluated by the university, she said. The future of the Campus Advocacy Program is still up in the air, but Radcliffe's spirits are high.
"If ever there was a time for students who have been helped by the program to come forward and say so, now is the time," she said, grinning. "But we're here to help students, not the other way around."
The Program For Michela Deming and Shruti Patel, being a campus advocate is not just another line on a resume or a part-time job.
For the two OSU students, campus advocacy is very much a part of their day-to-day life.
And they will be the first to tell people.
"I'm on call 32 hours a week," said Deming, who balances volunteer work with a law school curriculum, while also pursuing her master's degree in women's studies.
"I staff the (24-hour rape) helpline, counsel survivors, speak at local middle schools and high schools and several other things," she said. "Oh, and I go to class."
Deming and Patel are two of 20 advocates at OSU, trained by the university to respond to rape cases and sexual assault scenarios on campus.
The program, directed by Radcliffe, offers an extensive list of resources for survivors and victims of other types of sexual assault. There is the 24-hour rape helpline, staffed by students and community members and funded by the Sexual Assault Response Network of Central Ohio. There is the Student Wellness Center, which houses the program and provides information and education on topics ranging from AIDS to relationship abuse. Then there are the advocates, who undergo more than 40 hours of training before earning their title.
"It's a lot of work," Deming said. "But it's fulfilling."
Most of what the group does revolves around the needs of the survivor: providing guidance on what to do next, who to talk to and where to stay. Ultimately,their job is to empower the survivors, Radcliffe said.
"It's about comfort, and it's about support," she said.
And, if Deming and Patel have any say in the matter, it is about education.
"A lot of women buy into the myths that surround rape and sexual assault," said Patel, a sophomore in women's studies who just recently finished her advocacy training. "One of the ways I've been able to help is to help them realize the myths from the truths and how they can understand more how rape fits into our society - how violence against women is a symptom of bigger issues in our society and how our society is structured to facilitate this kind of violence."
Myths, she explained, include notions that someone who gets raped is usually to blame, that dressing promiscuously is an invitation for sex and that when rape occurs, there is no one to talk to you.
The Means Since the late 1990s, nowhere has the proliferation of substance-assisted sexual assault been more evident than on college campuses. Often referred to as "date-rape" drugs, several chemical substances have become commoditized and readily available that impair a person's ability to resist against an assailant's advances. Although Rohypnol - commonly known as "roofies" - remains the most often used chemical substance in date rapes, studies show alcohol is by and large the biggest contributor to substance-assisted sexual assault. In a 1999 National Institute of Justice survey, researchers noted the most common factor in rape cases was an excess in the consumption of alcohol.
"Alcohol is, without a doubt, the No.1 date-rape drug," said Radcliffe, though she cautioned against the interpretation of its use.
In rape cases, alcohol is correlative, not causative, she said.
"We have to be very clear during information seminars that not everyone who drinks alcohol will get sexually assaulted, and likewise not everyone who drinks will decide to take advantage of someone," she said.
But despite alcohol's prevalence among campus rape occurrences, the reality of the more harmful, chemical date-rape substances is all too evident.
Just ask Jennifer Smith*.
By the time the 26-year-old was a sophomore in college, she had been raped twice, once with a date-rape drug and both times with alcohol.
She was 22, studying psychology at OSU and just about to finish her first week of autumn quarter finals. After a long night of studying, she closed her books and fell asleep on her bed. Two hours later she woke up when her neighbor, who she knew well, came into her room and asked if she wanted to hang out next door at his apartment.
"He told me he needed a break from studying and wanted to have a few drinks," she said. "So, I said 'All right, why not?'"
The two played darts, watched TV and drank beer on his couch.
"I had one beer, and all of the sudden I couldn't feel my limbs," she said. "I knew I wasn't drunk, so I began to wonder 'What's going on?'"
Her speech started to slur and her ability to move quickly paralyzed. She tried to focus on her motor skills in case she needed to fight, she said, but eventually she blacked out. Waking up a few minutes later, her vision was still blurred; between flashes of skin and clothes, she said, he hit her when she resisted.
"But, then, out of nowhere, one of his roommates came in and interrupted him," she said. "If he hadn't, I'm not sure what would have happened."
Smith's story is at once horrifying and empowering: She was able to fight the effects of the date-rape drug long enough to alert his roommates.
But because she was uncertain of what had happened, even days afterward, and because she knew the man who attacked her, Smith decided not to report the rape to police.
"I kept thinking, 'No one will believe me.' It was just too much for me to be brave," she said.
Eventually, she sought counseling from the Campus Advocacy Program, meeting twice with a faculty counselor. She told a few of her closest friends and was relieved to have their support. She stopped going to counseling after the second visit, she said, because her counselor was male and she was not yet comfortable enough to open up to him.
Had things been different, she said, she would have reported the rape to police.
"If I knew I would have been supported from the outset by counselors and law enforcement, then, absolutely I would have. Absolutely," she said.
Smith's scenario is all too common, said Richard Lundman, professor of sociology and an expert on crime statistics analysis. He partly blames the low number of reported rapes on insensitive and Spartan practices of law enforcement.
"It would be mighty reassuring if rape reporting was going up (faster) because it would signal a change in accessibility and sensitivity, among other things," he said. "Police have gotten better over time, but have they improved in a way that would see a big increase in the number of reported rapes? The answer is no."
*Jennifer's name has been changed.
John Cropper can be reached at cropper.21@osu.edu.
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