Features

CW, TW: Discussions of sexual violence. 

Sexual harm is prevalent, invasive, and underacknowledged on campus, whether we want to admit it or not. 

Three weeks into the academic year, Thursdays in Black (TiB) – the Otago branch of a national student-led sexual harm prevention advocacy group part of an international movement – were inundated with disclosures. Disclosures happened at Tent City stalls, during club events, in town, and at parties. The exec received up to three confessions a week – each. Survivors weren’t the only ones seeking them out, but also concerned friends who were desperately grasping for any support they could find. 

Many survivors didn’t know who to turn to for support, nor did they think their experience even warranted professional help. Charismatic young people were rendered distressed, traumatised, lonely, and in need of guidance. For the TiB exec, it was both overwhelming and heartbreaking to witness. Stories of sexual harm will always be crushing to hear, especially en masse. Something needed to be done. And so, TiB teamed up with Critic Te Ārohi (henceforth referred to as ‘Crib’) to bridge the gap from sexual harm to support services. 

It shouldn’t be like this. Crib’s goals for this piece are twofold. We want you, as a reader, to understand that these are real people who are experiencing incidences of sexual harm. This has happened to the girl you sit next to in lectures. This has happened to that one dude you only ever see at parties. These are people who, in their realness, deserve love and care after trauma. Our other goal is to show you how rewarding support can be. It means putting yourself out there, it means doing what is difficult because you are a person who deserves to be cared for after what happened. 

A culture of casual misogyny and queerphobia, rampant alcoholism and drug use, and brushing shit under the rug, needs a mammoth shift to prevent sexual harm from occurring in the first place – something that groups like TiB work tirelessly to advocate for. But for those who’ve experienced harm on campus and have felt the trauma the brave interviewees of this feature shared, please know that support is available. Here’s how to find it.

Disclaimer: Crib’s survey specifically focused on students’ experiences with campus-based support, but the conversation doesn’t end there. Beyond campus, there is an array of support to be found for survivors of sexual harm. Support services in Ōtepoti are listed at the end of the article.

The Campus Climate Survey

To coincide with the introduction of the Sexual Misconduct Policy in 2019, the University of Otago commissioned the ‘Campus Climate Survey’ report to provide an overview of sexual harm on campus. The goal was to ascertain the baseline levels of sexual violence, its different forms, and students’ perceptions of the University’s handling of cases. The survey found that 60.4% of students had been sexually harassed by a peer and 31% of respondents indicated at least one experience of sexual harassment from a Univeristy staff member. Despite these stats, only 12.8% accessed on-campus support services, and ~18% had disclosed to a non-uni service or group such as the Police or Ōtepoti Communities Against Sexual Abuse (ŌCASA). 

Te Whare Tāwharau was introduced not long before the Sexual Misconduct Policy. Opening in May 2018, Te Whare Tāwharau is the centre for sexual harm support services at Otago University. Survivors can expect support with welcome arms through the doors of Te Whare Tāwharau, tucked away on 5 Leithbank. Manager Hahna Briggs told Crib that they saw a total of 127 visitors at the centre last year, with fluctuating traffic depending on the time of year – an increase in March when semester one starts (and O-Week hits) and during exam periods. 

Crib interviewed Associate Professor of Sociology, Gender Studies, and Criminology Melanie Beres for her expertise in sexual harm prevention on university campuses. According to her, Te Whare Tāwharau’s mahi encompasses what good support for survivors looks like: walking alongside the person and helping them to navigate support with as much autonomy as possible, and providing opportunity and space to debrief. Te Whare Tāwharau also helps to organise practical arrangements for students affected by sexual violence, such as special considerations during exams and extensions on assignments. 

Another initiative of Te Whare Tāwharau are their HYBRID workshops to various University student leaders such as Kaiāwhina Whare, clubs and association executives, demonstrators, and tutors – those who have a formal role within our network of campus support. HYBRID stands for ‘Helping You The Bystander Respond, Intervene and Disclose’. HYBRID’s purpose is to empower attendees to be effective bystanders in their communities; to recognise potentially harmful situations and know how to intervene safely; and to prepare them with skills to respond to disclosures using survivor-led practice. 

HYBRID is also delivered to “student-facing” services such as Campus Watch, who you’ll have seen at Castle St parties, breaking up scraps between breathas, checking on second-years vomiting in the gutter, and responding to radio call-outs to flat break-ins or otherwise. Security staff at places like U-Bar are not currently included in the training, but spokesperson for the University, Student Services Director Claire Gallop, told Crib that this is something that could be considered in the future. 

TiB receives a lot of feedback that University processes in place to support and manage sexual harm can sometimes feel scary and shrouded in mystery. It can be difficult to admit to yourself what happened, let alone confide in strangers. You may not know what support you can receive, and worry that there isn't any. There’s yet to be a formal report on services for sexual harm support in the University since 2019, so rather than rely on old data, Crib conducted a survey of the current campus climate, knowledge, and use of support services. The survey was made available through Crib’s social media platforms and advertising in issues of Critic Te Ārohi in July and August.

Eleven members of our University whānau informed this article, from first-years to Kāiawhina Whare and tutors, who shared their experiences with sexual violence on campus. From them, we received a 100% response rate from cisgender women. Three identify as Māori, and ten as Pākehā students (with the option to multi-select ethnicity). Our results followed national trends of both women and members of the LGBTQIA+ community (90.1% in our results identifying as part of the community) being more likely to experience sexual violence. However, this is only a limited sample size and likely not fully indicative of the sexual harm issue on campus. The lack of men responding could be related to the difficulty in recognising harm and the embedded Kiwi culture of ‘manning up.’ The lack of gender diverse participants, who experience sexual assault at far higher rates than cisgender people, also limits our discussion.  

Nine students told us their personal stories of harm – many occurring in first-year – and two student leaders (Kaiāwhina Whare and tutors/demonstrators) shared their experiences grappling with disclosures from those in their care. The stories we have recounted below serve as tools in the discussion around the prevention and support of sexual harm since 2019. 

Grooming in The Workplace

When she was a Kāiawhina Whare at a residential college, Bella was the victim of a sexually abusive relationship, groomed by her Assistant Warden. After a previous relationship ended, she was burnt-out and lonely. She turned to a senior staff member for a supportive confidante. It spiralled into an invasive, controlling, and predatory sexual relationship. His sweet, playful, and attentive surface demeanour that she was initially drawn to was like “heroin” to her during her vulnerable state. Bella became so dependent on him for emotional support and validation that she felt as if she couldn’t survive without him. “I am devastated that I was lured by the wrong person for support,” she said. 

Trapped, Bella tried to end things with him multiple times, but was caught in a perpetual cycle of dependent abuse. Since he was her superior at work, she was also “cut off” from support systems intended to be a safety net. “When the abuser is part of the system you are disclosing to [...] That’s terrifying,” Bella explained. Any leak could’ve meant her abuser finding out, who was high up and had “so much power” over her life – both professionally and personally. “I was terrified that word would get back to him,” she said. “People yap and chat.” Plus, Bella was struggling to even come to terms with what was happening. “I didn’t know what grooming was. I didn’t know it was happening,” she said, describing the blame she would put on herself. “I believed I didn’t deserve help.” It was only after visiting Student Health for suicidal thoughts due to the grooming that support was found. 

From an outside perspective, it can be difficult to understand why someone wouldn’t seek help. Later down the line, survivors are often asked questions like, “Why didn’t you say anything?” But at university, and especially in residential colleges, tauira navigating a complex web of social hierarchy find it difficult to determine what’s normal and how much discomfort to swallow to adhere to the norm, let alone muster up the bravery to upset the balance. Tauira in Crib’s survey spoke about the confusion of recognising coercion since it didn’t fit into the popular idea of what sexual harm is, meaning they didn’t report the incident to their hall. Another thought their experience was just “an odd thing that happened with a pushy guy”. For one student, she didn’t want to be known as “the girl who got assaulted”. 

Upon being told about the theme of fear of disclosure in Crib's survey responses, Melanie nodded with familiarity. The issue of an invisible line that survivors or supporters have in their mind, a criteria that must be crossed before recognising that sexual harm has occurred and support should be sought out, is “nothing new”. From Melanie’s prior experience in other institutions, many would come through the door of support spaces saying, “I’m not sure I’m in the right place.” This wasn’t true. “They always were in the right place,” Melanie said, whether the harm was 10 years or 10 days ago. 

After Bella approached Student Health, the staff went to the Deputy Warden of her hall to support a disclosure, who she said was “incredible”. Bella sat in the DW’s office for an hour as he talked her through what she later came to realise was sexual grooming. The talk helped her to believe it wasn't her fault. “Even though he had worked with my abuser as a colleague, when I disclosed to him, he immediately believed me and supported me,” she said. “The senior management staff within our residential colleges are truly some of the wisest and kindest people on the planet [...] My life would be very different if I had chosen a different office to go and cry in,” Bella reflected. “But I can’t go back. Only forward.”

Considering the perpetrator was a staff member, the reporting also went through a Human Resources (HR) pathway as outlined in the University’s Sexual Misconduct Policy. The Policy’s purpose is to provide a clear and consistent process for responding to disclosed incidents of sexual misconduct, and clarify options for support. Having accidentally let slip to Student Health the name of her abuser, staff then had a duty of care to follow HR protocol – subsequently taking a lot of the control out of Bella’s hands. It was a difficult pill to swallow. “I was still very much under my abuser's thumb, and I didn’t want to report him. After I gave my disclosure, it was a very abrupt end to my involvement,” she said. It was a “soul-destroying” process for Bella. To not initially realise the seriousness of the situation, feel a lack of control in the HR process, and later lose someone that she had felt so close to for so long was horrible. But despite this, she felt that Student Health and the HR processes that the University had to follow were the “right thing”. Bella’s abuser no longer works at the University.

After months of psychological and sexual abuse, Bella told Crib that being believed was one of the most important factors in her being able to move forward. “I could not trust my own reality,” she said. In the midst of a terrible and traumatising situation, Bella couldn’t express her gratitude enough for those she reached out to. Bella’s story involved a wide network of support, both on campus and beyond. “Student Health was incredibly helpful, they honestly saved me [...] I could not have left by myself,” she said. “It took the blood, sweat, and tears of Student Health, my incredible Deputy Warden, my friends and my family, to pull me out of the pit of despair that comes from sexual harm and predation.”

Outside of the support she mentioned, Bella also went to Te Whare Tāwharau, was referred to OUSA Student Support, ACC Sensitive Claims for therapy, the Proctor and Human Resources (HR) for protective measures, and ŌCASA outside the University.

Education on Support Services

In first-year, Thalia* was sexually violated by a friend in her hall. One night, she’d returned home from a night out, drunk, and he was there – sober and persistent. He ignored her pleas to stop undressing her, refusing to leave, instead groping and attempting to finger her. Before he left, he took a picture of Thalia naked in her bed and sent it to her social media accounts. 

Thalia went to Te Whare Tāwharau. You may recognise the name from the CommUNIty102 workshops that they hold for first-years each O-Week, visiting each hall one by one to educate students on the importance of consent. CommUNIty102 aims to bring to light what services and measures are available for incidences of sexual harm, as well as get students on the same page about healthy relationships and decisions around consent and alcohol – a key complicating factor in sexual harm. From Te Whare Tāwharau, Thalia was also referred to OUSA Student Support and Disability Information and Support. 

While Thalia’s personal relationships crumbled during her experience, she said that she felt supported by the “great” staff at her hall. Thalia also noted that she didn’t feel properly educated about the types of support services available before the harm occurred, but did after the fact.  This inability to recall services is common according to Melanie, who notes that sometimes the information doesn’t sink in until it becomes potentially relevant. “Structurally, the system’s there, but how we actually make sure that all the students who could use it are aware of it when they need to is tricky,” she explained. 

How the University Handles Complaints

Survivors working with Te Whare Tāwharau are given the choice of reporting their alleged perpetrator to the Proctor, who works within the framework of the University’s Sexual Misconduct Policy. While Thalia got the support she needed, it was not without struggles – particularly in regard to the Sexual Misconduct Policy and complaints to the Proctor. 

Thalia was unhappy with the investigation of her claim, leading her to issue a complaint about the Proctor. There are some requirements a case must meet when reaching the Proctor, which Thalia’s case did – as it was non-grievous in nature. For any Proctor investigation, he only has the power to investigate “non-grievous” sexual misconduct. Anything grievous is out of the Proctor’s hands. At Otago Uni, grievous conduct is defined according to Section 128 of the Crimes Act 1961 as anything either attempting or amounting to sexual violation (penetration) or assault with the intent to commit sexual violation; or any other conduct or alleged conduct which the Vice-Chancellor (acting on the advice of the Sexual Misconduct Action Response Team (SMART) co‑ordinator) determines should be considered to be grievous sexual misconduct. Put differently, grevious sexual misconduct tends to be rape or attempted rape, whereas things such as verbal sexual harassment may be considered non-grevious. If the SMART co-ordinator determines conduct to fall into the grievous category, then it’s out of the Proctor’s jurisdiction for investigation. 

The Proctor was excluded from investigating grievous sexual misconduct under the Sexual Misconduct Policy in 2022. Ben Nevell, SMART co-ordinator, explained at the time of his appointment that the decision was due to the Proctor not having the legal authority or resources to investigate allegations of grievous sexual harm. “It makes sense that [the Proctor’s] focus is on ensuring everyone is safe and well looked after, leaving the Police to carry out the actual investigation,” he said at the time. If the Proctor cannot investigate a complaint due to it being grievous in nature, support services are still offered and protective mechanisms can be put in place – such as rearranging timetables, or coordinating times both parties may visit University areas.

In Thalia’s case, the Proctor found no evidence to support her claim. She’s currently battling the University to formally complain about the Proctor. In response to any students’ distress over a situation like Thalia’s, spokesperson Claire Gallop told Crib that “[t]he University recognises the significant upset caused to an affected party whose complaint – brought forward honestly and in good faith – does not lead to a finding against a respondent.” Claire emphasised the University’s continued commitment to supporting complainants who found themselves in that situation, and noted a complainant's ability to make a formal complaint to the Police with the support of Te Whare Tāwharau. 

Police advise survivors in ways they can progress a sexual assault report. “This can involve a formal interview, formal investigation, and potentially court as an outcome. We understand not everyone is looking for, or ready for a formal process, and we record and progress sexual assault reports in line with the victim's wishes,” Detective Sergeant Reece Munro told Crib. “Police value our close relationship with the University of Otago and Te Whare Tāwharau, to support victims and take their reporting in a direction catered for their specific needs to aid and support them.”

Cases of sexual misconduct are complex, as sexual harm is notoriously difficult to prove against standardised guidelines of harm. Much like with a court process, once a finding rules that misconduct has not been proved to the “necessary standard”, it’s “effectively final”. A complainant has no right of appeal, Claire explained to Crib, except in the case that an Appeals Board could see there was “absolute fundamental failure” in the original investigation. It’s like a judicial review process. 

Claire noted to Crib that this is something that has “never [been] found to have occurred,” and they have a “high level of confidence” in the decisions made by the Proctor and Provost under the Sexual Misconduct Policy. “[They] bring to their roles a complete commitment to the goals of the Sexual Misconduct Policy and a wealth of experience.” Each decision made under the policy is also reviewed by an independent panel of three experts, convened by the SMART co-ordinator.

The Respondent

Another tension mentioned by a few survivors was the question of what happens when the perpetrator is in the same hall as the survivor. Hall staff have equal duties to both the alleged victim and perpetrator if both are residents. Claire told Crib that they will support those making reports while recognising the need for fair process – and this includes a right to be heard for those who are alleged to have committed acts of sexual misconduct. This was the case for Thalia. “[Halls] have an ethic of care, but because he was in my hall they have to care for him too,” Thalia explained. “He threatened harm [to] himself and I became socially isolated. He got the support and I didn’t.” 

Guidelines must be followed when managing a disclosure within a hall, starting with asking the affected survivor if they would like to disclose the alleged incident to the College Head so that pastoral care can be provided. If the survivor consents to disclosing the name of the individual alleged to have breached the Sexual Misconduct Policy – the ‘respondent’ – then the College Head will meet with them. There, they advise them of support services available, offering to go with them and explore the possibility of moving the respondent to alternative accommodation if required to ensure the safety and wellbeing of either the complainant, respondent, or other residents at the respondent’s hall. A number of “principles” inform whether protective measures might be placed on either party, including: the extent to which the survivor feels unsafe or uncomfortable around the respondent; the size of the hall; and the ability for staff to keep the survivor and respondent separate while living in the same hall. For example, whether separate meal times and living spaces can be arranged.  

The consideration to both survivors and respondents is identified by Melanie as one of the most significant barriers universities face when encountering the issues that sexual harm raises. It’s a tricky thing to balance; drawing lines between what is acceptable and not, without “completely alienating” respondents. “If you alienate, then you are not involving [perpetrators] in prevention,” she explains. She stresses that it is important to remember that the respondent is still a “whole human”. The ability for universities to do this juggling act well also needs a “whole campus” approach, in which everyone – from the Vice-Chancellor all the way to students – need to “paddle the waka in the same direction” to create any meaningful culture change and “work at the broader levels as opposed to individual people.” 

Claire told Crib that she is satisfied that all halls are committed to responding to complaints as fully as possible and with “full respect” to affected parties, even if those complaints are not upheld. “[It] is clear that the existence of such cases reflects the difficulty of making fair determinations in disputed situations, and not any lack of commitment to doing all that is possible for affected parties.” 

Tutor Disclosures

In Cassidy*’s time working as a tutor, she has received at least six different disclosures of sexual harm from her students. Most came in the form of “written assignment content” that was handed in, but rather than homework, they were cries for help. 

Depending on the context, she informed her course co-ordinators of disclosures and referred students to a range of support services. While Cassidy did what she thought was appropriate, she felt that she wasn't adequately trained in what to do after receiving a disclosure. “As tutors, we are only guided to tell students to go to support services if they disclose,” she explained. “No guidance is given on how to go about grading assignments which include disclosures and how to provide feedback when those assignments may not meet the student’s grade expectations.” 

The University encourages tutors who have a query about responding to disclosures – such as disclosures in assignments, in Cassidy’s situation – to contact Te Whare Tāwharau for advice. “Some departments have Te Whare Tāwharau provide in-department training for their tutors,” Claire explained. However, mandatory in-person training is limited for all tutors due to capacity issues, so Te Whare Tāwharau are looking to develop an “online training resource” for staff to access. 

Kaiāwhina Whare – When to Use Support Services 

With many cases of sexual harm occurring in halls, Angela* shared with Crib her perspective as a Kaiāwhina Whare who’s received a disclosure from a resident. During a conversation with another staff member, a first-year resident chatted to the pair about surface level interests before pulling Angela aside. During their private chat, the resident disclosed an instance of sexual harm, citing a need for emergency contraception. 

The resident left before Angela could get her name, and passed on the information to her superiors. College processes mean that after escalation, Angela was in the dark about what happened to the resident. “All [Kaiāwhina Whare] can do is make sure the people needing support are getting it through useful channels and urge senior staff to act quickly and purposefully,” she said. But for Angela, she was left emotionally affected by the experience.

Angela didn’t use any support services. She felt that because she hadn’t been harmed directly, she wasn't the one needing support. In Angela’s predominantly supportive role, she thought that “needing additional support after giving support was a sign I shouldn't be doing the job.” It’s a common feeling from those in support roles, revealing the importance of Te Whare Tāwharau as a significant resource for supporters as well as survivors themselves. Sometimes difficult conversations – especially surrounding sexual harm – stick with you, but that doesn’t make an inadequate student leader or supporter. What Angela experienced is known as vicarious trauma, or secondary traumatic stress, which is a negative reaction from being indirectly exposed to another person's trauma. Keeping your mind clear and feeling good means you are in a better place to then help others; it's a measure of healthy boundaries and knowing how to keep yourself safe.

What’s Happened Since 2019?

Since 2019, Te Whare Tāwharau has emerged as a central pillar in the effort toward building a safe and supportive environment for survivors of sexual violence at the University of Otago, offering compassionate, survivor-led care that empowers both those harmed and those who support them. However, the absence of a follow-up survey shows that there is still work to be done — and conversations to be had.

The stories shared by those within our University whānau show the real challenges survivors face, particularly when navigating systems that can feel complicated, unfamiliar, or isolating. From halls of residence to lecture halls, everyone has a responsibility to shape a culture that creates openness and support for those affected by such a widespread issue. While the support services are there for survivors (and tend to be regarded positively), their success depends on ensuring every student knows how to use them, and feels that their story matters when they do. 

*Names changed.

If you need support, the following services are available: 

• Te Whare Tāwharau (0800 479 379) 5 Leithbank, Dunedin North, Dunedin 9016 – One unified space that provides sexual violence related support within the campus community.
• Ōtepoti Communities Against Sexual Abuse (03-474 1592) - (Formerly Rape Crisis Dunedin) - all genders, survivors, whānau, friends, parents and communities 
• Ōtepoti Dunedin Women’s Refuge (03 466 3220) – Dunedin Women's Refuge, tamariki programmes, women's advocacy, men's programme
• Male survivors of sexual abuse Otago (03 425 8018) – Survivors of sexual abuse
• Hohou Te Rongo Kahukura – Outing Violence - free, confidential, mana-enhancing support and recovery services for Takatāpui and Rainbow survivors of sexual harm. https://kahukura.co.nz/
• Safe to Talk (0800 044 334) - Sexual abuse and harm support 24/7 helpline
• Are You OK? (0800 456 450) - If you’re worried about safety in a relationship, call us
• Te Puna Oranga (0800 222 042) – Kaupapa Māori individual & whānau services, including immediate 24/7 sexual violence crisis response and family harm support for individuals and whānau.
• Victim Support (0800 842 846) – Free, nationwide support for people affected by crime, suicide and traumatic events.
• Women’s Refuge Crisis line (0800 REFUGE) – Through our crisis line, we are here to help you 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. 
• Youthline (0800 37 66 33) – 12 - 24yr Helpline counselling, face to face counselling, community education, training, PD
• 1737 – Free, confidential 24/7 support for anyone, anytime. Help with well-being, brief emotional support, text or chat anytime.
• Life Line (0800 54 33 54) – Safe, effective and confidential service to support the emotional and mental wellbeing
• Tautoko Tāne Male Survivors Aotearoa (0800 044 334) – Sexual harm helpline accessible 24/7, and online resources available at tautokotane.nz
• Police (105) (111). Dunedin Central Police Station, 25 Great King St. North Dunedin Police Station, 111 North Rd. South Dunedin Police Station 77 MacAndrew Rd