This zine was created to provide an outlet for sharing stories and perspectives about sexual harassment in STEM. Due to gag orders, stigma, and fear of retribution, stories about sexual harassment, assault, and violence are rarely shared above a whisper. If you have experienced anything along those lines, you are not alone. Special thanks to all who bravely submitted and told their stories as well as the donors who not only made this project possible, but allowed us to provide an honorarium for artists whose work is featured in this zine.
To support the contributors and the reach of this zine, you may donate at bit.ly/stemtoo
There are some things you just shouldn’t say Under the pretense of alcohol and misguided perceptions The abuse of dependency Losing -sense of reality I cared about you and you mistook it for love But saying you’re not worthless is called human decency And maybe you’ve never known that kind of empathy But I am not an object to capture and train I have been through so much more than this And so your excuse about weakness means nothing to me You may be enlightened moving electrons around in machines But you are blind when it comes to respect and consideration So you’ll distract yourself with tickets to avoid your own mind You run from yourself under the guise of performance And I am disgusted Because I’ve seen too much. I could see past the tough exterior Because I too understand that hardness deflects pain But you took advantage of that. And I feel violated by your intimacy
I have been raped by your lies And left homeless and broken in yet another place I cannot call my own So fuck you for enabling a cycle I’ve worked so hard to break from And fuck you for twisting your sick narrative And convincing me that I could be nothing without your mentorship I do not need you I did not need this I was always too afraid of you to let you in And now you’ll never know and now I know that I was right to protect myself. So slink back to your apartment as empty as your words I hope the silence of my absence is deafening for you
Turn your assault into a learning tool 8. 7.
9.
6.
1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16.
R maxillary 3rd molar R maxillary 2nd molar R maxillary 1st molar R maxillary 2nd bicuspid R maxillary 1st bicuspid R maxillary cuspid R maxillary lateral incisor R maxillary central incisor L maxillary central incisor L maxillary lateral incisor L maxillary cuspid L maxillary 1st bicuspid L maxillary 2nd bicuspid L maxillary 1st molar L maxillary 2nd molar L maxillary 3rd molar
17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32.
L mandibular 3rd molar L mandibular 2nd molar L mandibular 1st molar L mandibular 2nd bicuspid 32. L mandibular 1st bicuspid L mandibular cuspid 31. L mandibular lateral incisor L mandibular central incisor 30. R mandibular central incisor R mandibular lateral incisor R mandibular cuspid 29. R mandibular 1st bicuspid R mandibular 2nd bicuspid R mandibular 1st molar R mandibular 2nd molar R mandibular 3rd molar
superior labial frenulum 10. 11.
5.
12. palatine raphe
4.
13.
3.
14.
2.
hard palate
15.
1.
16. soft palate palatoglossal arch palatopharyngeal arch oropharynx palatine tonsil
17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 28.
22.
27. 26. 25.
Medical illustration of human mouth by DK Winter (c 1950) Otis Historical Archives National Museum of Health & Medicine
gingivae 23. 24. inferior labial frenulum
uvula
This field is supposed to be all about the science, right? Constant barrages of harassment lead to intense insecurities that are typically unfounded. This piece suggests a deep desire to just be treated like a scientist and have to ability to communicate your work and passion without having the fear of being judged or not taken seriously due to your identity.
“Move on” they said “It’s over now.” Advice I’d heard before. Yet, here I cling, I cannot move. I yearn for something more. “There’s nothing there.” They said to her. “He’s never coming back.” The words glance off her naive heart Her hope still clouding facts. “I must persist. I can’t give up.” The thought my heart creates. “I may be gone but not for long” “my vindication waits.” For months this thought kept me alive. Reality built on a lie. With courage and a force of will She severed every tie. Now there’s only memories My image starts to blur My love for her is palpable But I’m a ghost to her. Yes, now it’s time to fade away Resurrection won’t occur No longer will I inflict pain No, I am dead to her.
I am not entirely sure where I should begin Train rides with my body parts tucked in the man sitting next to me with spread legs My arms, my back, the scarf wrapped around my head parts of me that men have claimed as their own maybe it’s what I am wearing or maybe it’s my tone Late night walks and I am chilled to my bone keys between my fingers, hand griping my phone Parties with drinks never left unattended because for some, that’s how their life ended My story is her story and a part of his-story as a woman I guess it’s part of the territory
You kissed me, I didn't kiss you back You went down on me, I just lay there limp You told me I have a beautiful body A body, that is all I was Not a person with hopes and dreams With thoughts & opinions Just a body A body for you to enjoy You asked me if I had a condom I had 12 But I said no, I don't You pulled one out from your pocket Cursed the thickness of it And penetrated my dryness You grew frustrated But you wouldn't give up Wouldn't let me be You asked me if you could do it Without a condom After all, we have done it before I said no The only no that you listened to But you still didn't give up You moved on my body And rubbed yourself on me Until you came While I lay there limp Just a body, a body for your pleasure Not a person with hopes and dreams With thoughts & opinions Just a body A body for you to enjoy It's been more than two years since you assaulted me, made me feel like I am not a human being, but just a body. Still, your presence triggers me, I can't stand it. Still, the thought of that night makes me cry. Still, I am trying to regain my personhood. I just want you to know, want you to see the festering wounds that you made.
I just realized that I have never written about this experience before. In fact, I stopped journaling for months after the incident, maybe some sort of a self-defense mechanism. But I must write, because I must process this trauma, I must move on the best I can. So here it goes: A little over two year ago, I ran into him on the bus to Hyde Park. I had just come back from my fieldwork in India via Mozambique and South Africa. I had a new haircut, I was trying out a long-distance open relationship, I wanted to explore my bisexuality, I was feeling good and excited for this new phase of my life. He was my ex, another graduate student in my program. He was about to start his fifth year and I was about to start my fourth. We had dated for a couple of months two summers ago and he had broken things off. Things had always been a bit awkward between us since then. As my new confident self, I invited him over to my place, so he could try this alcoholic drink that I had brought back from South Africa. The idea was that we
could talk things over like adults and then there would hopefully be no more awkwardness between us. He interpreted my invitation differently, he thought I was inviting him over for sex. He came over, we chatted about things. I lived in a shared house and wanted to have a private conversation with him, so we were sitting on my bed while chatting. I noticed that he was sitting way too close, and every time I moved away, he would move close to me again. I started feeling uncomfortable. Then, he tried to kiss me. I stopped him and said no. He apologized and said that he had thought I had invited him for sex. I told him that was not my intention at all, I just wanted to talk things over in private about our previous dating experience, so we can both feel comfortable around each other, maybe even develop a platonic friendship. So we talked about it. I told him what I was going through in that time period. He was the first person to whom I had acknowledged how much I struggle without the support system of my family and friends
as an international student. And in the end, what really made me disappointed in him, was not that he did not want to date me, but that he did not follow-up with his promise to be a friend that he knew I needed. I felt good that we had finally had this conversation. To my surprise then, he leaned in to kiss me again. And I stopped him and said no! He said, “you know, I was thought we have done it before, so maybe we can just have some fun. You are in an open relationship now, so why not?” I told him that I just didn’t quite feel attracted to him any more, but he wasn’t quite willing to give up. He kept pressing until I stopped refusing. He kissed me, but I was not feeling it at all and I told him that. I offered to think about a “friends-with-benefits” sort of relationship between us and that maybe we can have sex tomorrow, if I feel like it could work. He did not leave. He offered to go down on me reminding me how I had enjoyed when he did that in the past. Reluctantly, I agreed. But I did not feel a thing. I lay there, limp and silent, like a potato. He, who had experienced consensual sex with me and should have
known better, still did not realize that this was not consensual. I had shut down and he had reduced me to a body. He did not stop at this. He asked me if I had a condom. I saw a glimmer of hope and lied to him, I told him that I did not have any when there were a dozen in my cabinet. To my despair, he rummaged around in his stuff until he found one of the free ones he had picked up at the student health center. I knew he did not like them, they were apparently too thick. He still put it on and tried to penetrate me. I was dry, the condom was not very smooth. He couldn’t. He still would not give up. He asked if he could penetrate me without a condom. He said, “after all, we have done it before” referring to the couple of times we did that when we were dating. Again, I said no. This was my only no that he listened to. He still did not leave me alone or go to the bathroom to jerk off though. He moved on top of me rubbing his dick against my limp body until he came. Then he rolled off me and lay silent for a few minutes before gathering his things and finally, leaving me alone. I didn’t realize what had
happened to me that night. I went to sleep feeling horrible, feeling shameful and guilty but did not understand why. Two months later, when finishing a mandatory online sexual harassment training, I finally realized that what happened that night was not consensual sex. Four months later, I decided to talk to him about that night. He apologized and said he knows how that feels, because he has experienced it himself. I was shocked, because how can someone that knows how dehumanizing such an experience can be, inflict it on someone else. He then went on to tell me to not share this story with anyone else, because “they might misunderstand�. It took me another few months to decide that I should be able to share this with my close friends, just so they know that I do not want to be around this person. More than a year later, I discussed this incident with my therapist who made me realize how manipulative his behavior was and how it was not my job to protect him. Almost two years after the incident, I still cry when I think of that night, but now I understand what happened. Now I know that it was not my fault.
Now I know that it was sexual assault, even though no physical violence was exercised. Now I understand that I did not kick him out or shout at him that night, as a self-defense mechanism that is engrained in my body. Through years of therapy, talking to supportive friends and reading, I now understand how that one night still affects me and shapes my social and sexual behavior. How deeply it damaged my sense of self-worth. What I want now is for him to understand this, understand that no means no, it doesn’t mean convince me, understand the magnitude of effect sexual assault has and never ever to subject another human being to this experience. And to please, make some room for me. I still avoid spaces where I know I could see him. It takes a lot of work and energy. I am constantly triggered by his presence. I often avoid social interactions with other graduate students in my department to avoid hearing about him or worse, seeing him. Can you please give me some space?
This submission contains wishes, reflections, and regrets. The words and phrases in the circle and the square are meant to reflect in a binary way a complex situation by contrasting the experience of somebody’s (not everybody’s) expectations when applying to grad school and illusions/dreams when first starting with the reality encountered. The second half of the piece contains a pledge to self, which summarizes generalized experiences while proposing ways to help improve the status quo.
Academic Dissonance Expectations
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Reality Egos. Privilege. A broken system. Cultural intolerance. Abuse of power. An all-boys club. Unwanted sexual attention. Bystander apathy. False equivalencies. Insecurities. Oppression via entitlement. Euphemisms. Victim blaming. Harassment. Willful ignorance. Inhumane treatment. Displacement of responsibility. Reductio ad absurdum. Lack of quality of life. Burn out. Stagnation. Hypocrisy.
ellectual
PLEDGE TO MYSELF: YOU DON’T OWN ME. I hereby reclaim the power over my narrative. The academic institution does not own my narrative. I accept that I don’t know what my healing process is going to look like. I don’t grasp how to remove the rot in academic institutions. However, I do know that wrongdoing needs to be penalized. I know that intersectionality is real. I know that accusers are gaslit. I know that academic institutions need to be held accountable and reinstate trust through apologies and acknowledgment. I know that academic institutions need to be explicit about actions and their consequences. I know that I should be able to file a report without fear of retaliation. I know that educators need sensitivity training. I will not accept trivializing of facts into "she-said, he-said" arguments. I will not be SILENCED, and I shall be heard! We will be heard. We will create awareness that will lead to a safe environment.
Your voice still quivers as your lips tremble and your fingers twiddle under the heat of life. You are so quiet, so frightened, and so hurt, yet you are still here. Whoever told you this was not bravery does not know what living really means.
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“You are a pretty girl, be careful of other scientists when you go to the Physics March Meeting.” Professor/Advisor/Mentor in an Intro to Electronics Course Title IX He grabbed my ass without my consent when he was drunk at a seminar once, but I have no evidence. I want to file for the removal, stealing, and the use without consent of my property and severe VNQJOK@BD G@Q@RRLDMS G@S HRM S RDWT@K G@Q@RRLDMS GX CHC SGD CHQDBSNQ RDMC me here? NTQ RSNQX CNDRM S PT@KHEX TMCDQ SGD ITQHRCHBSHNM NE C@SHMF UHNKDMBD~ NQ QDBHOQNB@SHNM
“You should write that you plan to be pregnant during graduate school so that they will give you more funding.”In thesis lab while asking how to fill out confusing financial section in a grad school app, Thesis Advisor
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This is the first edition of the zine and a work in progress. To contribute to the next edition, pick up a blank postcard and submit it online! www.twophotonart.com/pages/STEMtooZine
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