by Chessy Prout
“Chessy, if he doesn’t know that you’re all of this, then he definitely doesn’t deserve you,” Christianna said, throwing her hands into the air as if she was sprinkling fairy dust. “If he doesn’t see that you’re this awesome, wonderful, strong girl, then he’s definitely not good for you.”
I guess this was what it was like to have regular teenager problems. They suck too.
Soon enough my misery had lots of company. The guys were breaking up with their girlfriends one after the other, relationships falling like dominoes. My girlfriends and I tried our best to support one another, gorging on Mexican food and fries, hosting sleepovers and movie nights, and talking about the amazing road ahead.
My friends had college to look forward to. I had decided to take a gap year and write my memoir with Jenn Abelson, an investigative reporter with the Boston Globe’s Spotlight Team. I wanted to share my journey so other survivors and those who love them know there is a path forward, however rocky. There is a community ready, willing, and able to support their healing and their pursuit of justice.
While my friends binge-shopped at Bed Bath & Beyond for college supplies during the last few weeks of summer, I helped Mom and Dad pack up our home in Naples and move to Washington, DC.
It was a sobering and excruciating process. The house had been an oasis, but it was scabbed with painful memories. During our last few days together, Mom and Dad had a huge fight. We may have been leaving Florida behind, but the raw emotions from the past several years were coming with us. There were many moments since my assault that threatened our survival as a family. But we always were, and always would be, stronger together.
I cleared out my closet where I used to punch myself during panic attacks and bang my head. Now that it was empty, I could see small dents in the wall. The next person who lived there would probably assume that I aggressively kicked the shoes off my feet, not hit my head with hangers.
It reminded me how our deepest wounds are usually invisible, how easy it is to misjudge each other’s pain, how the most important thing we can do is to treat one another with kindness and respect. Everyone has a story.
Once in a while, my thoughts returned to Parker, to the picture I kept in my mind of us holding each other on the dance floor at prom. My heart has healed, and I am able to look back on our relationship with gratitude and fondness. He helped me reclaim many things: intimacy, my sexuality, and emotional vulnerability.
I wasn’t going to let my past, however painful, get in the way of my future. Not then, not now, not ever. I have big dreams and want to help lots of people. I knew Uncle Ron was out there somewhere, smiling down on us.
Mom and Dad were focused on launching a nonprofit to help survivors and make schools safe. They had assembled an all-star group to get it off the ground: Steve Kelly, Angela Rose, Laura Dunn, and Eric Singleton, who helped defang the Internet trolls posting hate sites.
Our lawsuit against St. Paul’s was expected to go to trial in 2018, but Dad held out hope that the school would come to its senses and settle, and be the first to work with our organization.
I’m on the board of directors, but I told Mom and Dad that my priority right now is joining Barnard’s class of ‘22 and taking care of JJ, our new family puppy.
After unpacking boxes all day at our home in Washington, DC, I needed to get some fresh air. I laced up my black Nike sneakers and jogged by Georgetown Waterfront Park, near the hotel where I’d first met Steve and Laura. I blasted a remix of “Stand by Me”—Dad’s favorite song—as I headed toward the National Mall, past the US Capitol, where I had shattered the silence months earlier with my friends Angela, Delaney, and Representative Kuster.
I stopped for a few minutes to catch my breath. I sipped in the humid August air and felt possibility open up around me: the Supreme Court and the Capitol to my right and the White House straight ahead. Maybe I’ll be a lawyer. Maybe I’ll be a politician, a producer, a writer. Maybe I’ll be an activist. I still have time to figure it all out. But I know one thing: I have the right to live my life fearlessly.
I never could have made it to graduation in May 2017 without the support of my family (first image, above). And I was grateful to have my new friend Delaney by my side (above). During our celebratory dinner, we all got silly with my graduation cake.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
My story is my truth: a retelling of as much as I can remember with the aid of recollections from some people included in the book, police reports, court transcripts, court exhibits, photos, emails, text messages, letters, and other records. I understand that my story is not unique, as sexual assault and rape culture is so deeply ingrained in society today.
As I send the last draft of this book to my publisher, the world is changing around me. The #MeToo movement, started by Tarana Burke, is becoming a widespread mission.
I see people being held accountable for their actions for the first time. I’m disappointed by the legions of respected men who abused their power. I’m frustrated by people who care more about their downfall than about the victims or who question whether their idols could be capable of such behavior.
At the same time, I hear hourly conversations—thoughtful ones—about where we go from here and how to treat one another with respect. As this book goes out into the world, I am hopeful.
In this memoir, I am not attempting to speak for all victims/survivors of sexual assault. Despite my Japanese heritage, I am a white, straight, blond-haired girl from an upper-class family. I grew up privileged, and my parents had the ability to fly back and forth between our home in Florida and the court hearings in New Hampshire to make sure the judge didn’t forget about the human behind the word “victim.” Too many victims are forgotten or afraid to report because of the intersectionality of racism and sexism.
It’s also important to recognize that justice comes in many ways, shapes, and forms. That’s why advocacy is so important—whether it be in the public arena or in private. It allows victims and survivors to find peace and justice in their own way, at their own pace.
Consent and sexual assault/rape education also need to be taught in schools from as early as kindergarten all the way through high school. Conversations about consensual touching—“Can I hug you?”—are appropriate for children as soon as they can start communicating. Waiting until college is just blatantly too late.
I have included a resources section below to help survivors, their loved ones, and others in the community. I’ve listed crisis hotline numbers and assistance for the criminal justice system, along with educational documentaries and activism opportunities.
Too many sexual assault victims are bullied into silence, which is why I want to remind you that you have the right AND responsibility to stand up for the survivors in your community, to make sure none are left behind.
RESOURCES
HOTLINE SUPPORT FOR SURVIVORS
National Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-HOPE (4673) / rainn.org
National Child Abuse Hotline: 1-800-422-4453 / childhelp.org
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255 / suicidepreventionlifeline.org
LOVED ONES OF SURVIVORS
Paving the Way for Parents: pavingthewayforparents.org
TEEN-DATING VIOLENCE
Love Is Respect: 1-866-331-9474 / Text “loveis” to 22522 / loveisrespect.org
Break the Cycle: breakthecycle.org
Join One Love: joinonelove.org
LESBIAN, GAY, BISEXUAL
The Anti-Violence Project: 212-714-1124 / avp.org
LGBT National Help Center: Hotline 1-800-246-PRIDE (7743) / glbthotline.org/chat.html
Gay Men’s Domestic Violence Project: 1-800-832-1901
The Network La Red: 800-832-1901 / tnlr.org
TRANSGENDER SURVIVORS AND LOVED ONES
Forge: 414-559-2123 / forge-forward.org
MALE SURVIVORS
1in6: Online chat support and peer support group / 1in6.org
Male Survivor: malesurviv
or.org
MILITARY SEXUAL ASSAULT
Safe Helpline: 877-995-5247 / safehelpline.org
Protect Our Defenders: protectourdefenders.com
DOMESTIC VIOLENCE
National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-7233 / ndvh.org
National Coalition Against Domestic Violence State Coalitions: ncadv.org/stay-connected/state-coalitions
CRIMINAL JUSTICE
SurvJustice: 202-869-0699 / survjustice.org
National Crime Victim Law Institute: 503-768-6819 / law.lclark.edu/centers/national_crime_victim_law_institute
It Happened to Alexa Foundation: ithappenedtoalexa.org
Office of Victim Services: www.jud.ct.gov/Publications/vs030.pdf
GLOBAL RESOURCES
Mukwege Foundation: mukwegefoundation.org
Rape Crisis Network of Europe: +44 (0) 1413314180 / rcne.com/links/sources-of-help-for-survivors
International Rape Crisis Hotline Directories: ibiblio.org/rcip/internl.html
Overseas Citizen Services for Americans Living Abroad: 1-888-407-4747 from the US or Canada; 1-202-501-4444 from overseas
ACTIVISM
Promoting Awareness/Victim Empowerment: shatteringthesilence.org
It’s On Us: itsonus.org
EROC: endrapeoncampus.org
No More: nomore.org
Survivor Love Letters: survivorloveletter.tumblr.com
Joyful Heart Foundation: joyfulheartfoundation.org
Know Your IX: knowyourix.org
ENGAGING BOYS AND MEN TO END SEXUAL ASSAULT
ReThink: we-rethink.org
Men Can Stop Rape: mencanstoprape.org
Consent Is Campaign: consentis.org
POLICY
National Alliance to End Sexual Violence: endsexualviolence.org
Bipartisan Task Force to End Sexual Violence: bipartisantaskforce.com
Erin’s Law: erinslaw.org
Together for Girls: togetherforgirls.org
CHILDHOOD SEXUAL ABUSE
National Children’s Advocacy Center: nationalcac.org
Darkness to Light: d2l.org
DOCUMENTARIES
The Hunting Ground: thehuntinggroundfilm.com Exposé of rape culture on college campuses.
Audrie and Daisy: audrieanddaisy.com Examines cases of high school sexual assault.
Breaking the Silence: https://itunes.apple.com/us/tv-season/breaking-the-silence/id1031325588 Shines light on child sexual abuse and where people can turn for help.
STUDIES
The “Justice Gap” for Sexual Assault Cases; Kimberly A. Lonsway, Joanne Archambault
The Lifetime Prevalence of Child Sexual Abuse and Sexual Assault Assessed in Late Adolescence; David Finkelhor, et al.
LETTER FROM SUSAN AND ALEX PROUT
There is no road map for victims and families surviving sexual assault. Perpetrators and institutions, however, have a well-established playbook. Isolate. Shame. Blame. Silence.
That’s why we have supported Chessy in writing about her experience—so that the price she has paid, and that we have paid as a family, the lessons we have learned and the pain we have felt, might be mitigated for someone else. We hope others will think twice about how they treat a victim of sexual assault and perhaps join us in shattering the silence.
This is Chessy’s account of how she made it through the aftermath of the sexual assault and the institutional and community backlash she faced, almost as painful and damaging as the crime itself. We went into this process knowing nothing about sexual assault and the path to justice. We ended up learning far more than any parent ever hopes.
In the weeks since Chessy finished this memoir, we have been astounded by a shift in social conscience regarding sexual harassment and sexual assault. As the #MeToo movement dominated headlines, St. Paul’s identified another fifteen victims of faculty sexual misconduct but failed to mention recent cases of student-on-student sexual assaults, including Chessy’s. Many of these survivors remain voiceless and unsupported.
While the rest of the world awakens to the realities of the scourge of sexual assault and its life-changing effects in places like Hollywood, Wall Street, Congress, and Silicon Valley, we question why St. Paul’s school called Chessy’s assault “an isolated incident” and continues to deny present-day problems in its school culture, like the Senior Salute and other “games” that have led to sexual harassment and sexual assault. Until we address these issues in our educational institutions, we have little hope of eradicating the conditions and attitudes that allow rape and rape culture to flourish.
There is no one way, of course, to prepare for a traumatic life event or sexual assault, just as there is no way to prepare for the effects of a devastating earthquake or a life-threatening illness. From the beginning, we agreed as a family that we would make every decision with these three things in mind:
1. Chessy’s recovery and well-being is always our top priority
2. That Owen Labrie be held accountable for his crime
3. That her perpetrator be prevented from sexually assaulting another victim
We made some good decisions with careful thought, and other actions we took were made by chance—like not questioning Chessy when she called late that night about why she went with Owen Labrie, or demanding to know why she didn’t tell us sooner. We told her we loved her and we would get through this together, one step at a time. Of course, her older sister, Lucy, had said the most important words of all, right from the start: It’s not your fault. That her sister knew to respond that way was a blessing, pure and simple.
It was a painful decision to let Chessy go back to St. Paul’s School. As parents, our immediate reaction was that there was no way we could entrust her to that kind of environment again. Chessy, however, wanted wholeheartedly to return to the St. Paul’s community, to continue her studies, sports, her friendships. We were told by her counselor, whom we trusted and looked to for guidance, that Chessy needed to feel some control over her life, when she had been robbed of the most intimate form of control. We channeled our deep hurt and anger and went where we normally go in tough times—to our knees. And then to our feet.
One of us traveled to St. Paul’s School in Concord every week to work with school leaders to handle the latest bullying incident, assess Chessy’s well-being, and offer her the support she was not receiving from her school community. We assumed that administrators, trustees, parents, alums, and students would be a source of compassion and support to Chessy upon her return to school. She had done “the right thing” by reporting and cooperating with the authorities, hadn’t she? Instead, she faced isolation, hostility, and bullying. St. Paul’s School and the community failed our child and our family. They have been failing students under their care for decades. It is a betrayal that we will never get over.
FINDING A SUPPORT NETWORK
Sexual assault is a hugely uncomfortable topic. If you knew a friend’s child had been robbed and beaten, you would offer support. Not so with sexual assault. We lost nearly all the community we’d once had at St. Paul’s School—fellow parents, alumni—with the exception of a small group of people. Other friends from our wider circle and colleagues simply dropped us, without conversation, for reasons we cannot really fathom.
Know that silence and isolation might try to envelop you and those who care about you. Friends may abandon you, or remain silent and ignore what you’re going through, tell you to get over it, and move on without you.
In the aftermath of trauma, it is critical to find people who will listen, love, and support you. Sometimes we were slow to figure out what that meant. It took us two years to find and speak to another survivor’s parent and learn about the commonalities all survivors and their families face. What a comfort that was, to know we were not alone as parents! The shame many survivors face is isolating, and can extend to the family of survivors, affecting every aspect of your lives, from where you live, work, and send your children to school, as you are trying to seek justice and
healing.
We tightened and reworked our network of support. We will always be indebted to our family, old friends, some friends of Alex from the class of ‘82, several teachers, and other sexual assault survivors who became our new friends and perhaps most inspiring community. We relied heavily on members of our children’s school community in Naples and were grateful for their support.
CRIMINAL JUSTICE SYSTEM
We were also given good advice by Chessy’s counselor in Naples not to rely on the criminal justice system for healing, because that was beyond our control. Chessy and our family, perhaps naively, had faith in the justice system when we decided to cooperate with authorities.
Luckily, we were in good hands, although we realize not everyone is as fortunate. Laws differ state by state in terms of how crimes are defined and what victims’ rights are. So much depends on the attitudes of the police and district attorney in handling sexual assault cases. The Concord authorities cared about what happened to Chessy, about sexual assault crimes, and about high school students in their city, as did the district attorney involved. But we didn’t know what they would make of it, and let them do their jobs. While there were disappointments along the way about how the process works and the way the justice system is tilted to protect perpetrators, we still feel it was the right decision.
We remained very engaged in the process, calling, emailing, and asking questions.
Lucy challenged us to think of Chessy first and foremost—and what justice would look like to her, and not us, her parents. We immersed ourselves in New Hampshire laws surrounding sexual assault and the court process we would potentially face. It took us a very long time to find the knowledge, help, and advice we needed.
WHAT WE WISHED WE KNEW
We love our daughters and were interested in everything they did, before they went away to school and while they were there. We had good relationships with each of them, with typical parent-child struggles, but nothing that warranted “I think you would be better off out of the household and away.” It was hard to be apart from our kids, and for our family, it was a sacrifice on many levels to let them go away to boarding school. We had thought the gains would outweigh the sacrifices. We were wrong.
