Dear Reader,

As advocates and allies we often are faced with questions that start, “Why didn’t they …” Leave him, report, comply, fill in the blank. Well, Kendall did what survivors are told to do. She reported immediately, handed over evidence, showed up for meetings, contacted support services, followed directives, and in return, she was left out to dry. Eastern Mennonite University (EMU) betrayed her. They did less than the bare minimum, and so she was stalked and harassed by her abuser throughout her senior year. In an email for the Associate Dean of Students, Kendall’s campus survivor advocate wrote, “I am concerned for the safety of any of the other students who choose to report and pursue no-contact directives on campus when this case has been volleyed between offices indefinitely.”

EMU’s mishandling of Kendall’s case is not a siloed incident. We know that institutions hide, mismanage, and ignore sexual violence. Hell, we even know that EMU has a history of doing exactly this. So it is time we flip the script. The questions that are asked of survivors need to be pointed to those who are being paid to provide a safe learning environment. “Why didn’t *they* …” Follow their own written policy, train those who were supposed to investigate intimate partner violence, uphold protective measures, and listen to the needs of their students.

If you want to reach out to show your support of Kendall, please do so through me at erinbergen@intoaccount.org. Thank you for bearing witness.

In solidarity,
Erin Bergen, Director of Student Advocacy

Content warning for intimate partner violence, stalking, misogynist language, and severe bureaucratic incompetence

My name is Kendall Stettler, and I am a graduate of Eastern Mennonite University’s class of 2024. I obtained a bachelor’s degree in nursing, and I got a job on a trauma-stepdown unit at a Level 1 Trauma Center. However, my ultimate goal is to become a SANE (Sexual Assault Nurse Examiner) and forensic nurse in order to become an advocate for survivors of intimate partner violence. As a survivor of intimate partner violence myself, from a student on EMU’s campus, I waited two-hundred-forty-nine days for EMU to advocate for me.

Two-hundred forty-nine days. That is how long it took EMU to complete my Title IX case (September 1, 2023 to April 30, 2024). Those days were filled with constant fear and anxiety, wondering if today was going to be the day my ex would try to do something again. Two-hundred-forty-nine days of waking up in a panic from nightmares of him coming into my room to rape, beat, or kill me. Two-hundred-forty-nine days of being triggered over and over again because I had to relive the experiences every single day of my senior year. For two-hundred-forty-nine days, I had to be walked like a dog around campus because I was scared of what would happen if he found me alone. For two-hundred-forty-nine days, I only wore shoes with laces, so I knew that I could run at any point. For two-hundred-forty-nine days, I looked over my shoulder everywhere I went, worried that he was following me, and I spent two-hundred-forty-nine days wondering when EMU would start to care about me.

I only got three days of my senior year without the weight of my Title IX case on my shoulders. While there were days when I walked alone on campus, I was always afraid and had to be on guard, monitoring my environment, and ready to run at any time. That was my life for two-hundred-forty-nine days, and this not only affected me but also my roommates and my friends. For the first eight weeks of the fall semester, I would have panic attacks if I was alone. One night my roommates and I barricaded the door to our apartment because my abuser was drunk outside our building, and we were worried that he would try to come in. None of us felt safe. Trying to sleep was the hardest part during this time. I experienced frequent nightmares, and after waking up I would hide under my desk and wait for the terror to wash over me. I always locked my bedroom door, panicked that, if I didn’t, he would find a way into my room. There were countless days that I attended my nursing clinicals with only two hours of sleep because I had been too scared all night to close my eyes.

Eastern Mennonite University leadership considered the situation to be handled after the no contact order was put into effect in late October. This document stated that my abuser could not contact me or go through a third party to relay messages, and there were designated spots on campus where he could not go. However, on day two-hundred-and-nine, March 27, I had another encounter with my ex, five months and two weeks after the no-contact order was placed and only a few days after EMU’s Title IX finally sent out the draft investigative report. During a volleyball game, my friend and I were sitting in an almost empty stadium when my ex and his friend walked in and sat in a row beside me, less than ten seats away. I asked my then boyfriend to come and sit with me and my friend, and my ex left soon afterwards. However, when my then boyfriend left near the end of the game, my ex came back and stood by the doors, blocking my way out of the stadium. This should have never happened. I should not have had to deal with my ex’s intimidating behavior two-hundred-and-nine days later, let alone two-hundred-forty-nine.

Since I already had a no contact order against my ex, I wanted to notify someone about the violation at the volleyball game. After discussing how to proceed with EMU’s Title IX Coordinator and survivor advocate, I decided to pursue a Code of Ethics violation. However, EMU failed me once more. No one wanted to take my complaint because they did not want to get involved with “relationship violence” and kept referring me to Title IX even though Title IX referred me to them.

The way this situation was handled demonstrates EMU’s negligence in upholding their own values. They overlooked me, made me feel like an inconvenience, and made me feel alone. They assigned an investigator to this case who was unqualified and dragged my case out for my entire senior year. The investigator had the notebook (the main evidence of my case) for two months before telling me that they could not read it and needed me to come help. I had to read the graphic content out loud to the investigator. To make the situation worse, I could tell the investigator was uncomfortable when he told me to stop after a few sentences which means he did not finish reading the remaining fifty-eight pages. I felt embarrassed, humiliated, and triggered having to read lines out loud such as: “I want to throw you on the bed and fuck you,” “I want to shove your head down on my dick,” “I’m gonna bash your ass one day, so you better prepare by bring your boxing gloves.” Furthermore, the investigator made me feel guilty for asking security to watch me walk to my classes after the no contact order was placed because I should have been “okay.”

On September 1, 2023, I submitted my Title IX report form, but it was not until April 30th that I finally met with the review panel to share my story. Title IX regulations say that a student is entitled to a timely and comprehensive investigation of the complaint. I understand that there are situations that could make the process longer, but my case was not one of those situations. I took all the right steps. I contacted Title IX, campus security, the survivor advocate, counseling, care team, and academic accommodation, and yet, they made me wait through two-hundred-forty-nine days of misery. EMU failed to uphold the laws set by Title IX, and it left me feeling broken.

I would have not followed through with this case if I did not have the experiences I had growing up. I wanted to prove to myself this time that I was worth protecting. However, this experience did the exact opposite. Instead of feeling protected and heard, I felt that EMU was protecting themselves and my abuser at the expense of my physical, mental, and emotional safety. I was living in a fight or flight state and scared to live my daily life for two-hundred-forty-nine days—while also completing my senior-year coursework—and it felt as though EMU did not care. All EMU did was try to push my calls for help under the rug. I was forced to relive my experiences of abuse month after month after month with no end in sight.

While I started out this process wanting to advocate for myself, I realize now that my situation is too far gone. Instead, I am fighting to bring awareness to the failed, inadequate systems that EMU has in place to “protect” survivors. I do not want another student to feel as dehumanized as I did. I do not want another survivor feeling the humiliation, guilt, and embarrassment that I still carry because of EMU’s failure to uphold their own stated beliefs and values. This is not the first time that EMU has had a Title IX case regarding intimate partner violence. This is also not the first time they have ignored their legal and ethical duties at the cost of a survivor. The fact that EMU had these public issues and holes in their system from a case in 2016 and did not take action to address them is utterly disgusting and appalling. It took two-hundred-forty-nine days for EMU’s Title IX review board to hear about my case directly from me. This timeline is unacceptable. The lack of internal communication within their accountability systems such as the CARE team, Title IX, and Campus Security and Safety is unacceptable. A survivor having to navigate these dysfunctional avenues just to be heard and protected is unacceptable.

If being stalked for two-hundred-and-forty-nine days is not enough, what is? If a student being scared to leave their room is not enough, what is? If a student being put through a traumatic process for all but three days of their senior year is not enough, what is? If the lasting damage of a student still being hypervigilant in their daily life a year out is not enough, what is? If me still wearing shoes with laces so I can run away is not enough, what is?