On a Monday evening in March, I received an email that I’m sure will be familiar to many students: “Reminder to Complete the Campus Climate Survey.” I hovered over the link, then decided to close my email. Two days later, I’d gathered the will to disclose some uncomfortable details of my life. I opened the email, clicked on the link, and began to fill out the survey. I was asked a seemingly-endless stream of questions. Yes, I’ve seen that. Yes, I’ve felt that. Yes, I’ve experienced that. And then, shockingly, the survey crashed. Same.

I thought about that error code for a long while, debating over whether or not to retake the survey. Ultimately I decided not to.

That survey made me feel like a number, like a statistic. But not in an empowering way—I didn’t feel like my voice counted. I felt like my voice, my number, my part of those statistics, was going to be looked at without empathy. I could hear it, administrators and students alike shocked at how surprisingly few people at Washington University were actually harassed, assaulted and raped. I could see our statistics being used as the same old protection they’ve always been, almost like someone was saying to me, “See? It doesn’t really happen here.” I know it because that’s the reality I lived in for my first couple of years at Wash. U., before survivors started to take control of the narrative en masse.

In a university that prides itself on knowing students by name and story, I have often felt proud of how much our faculty and staff care. I have benefitted so much from their care. But not all of my friends have. I have known people who had to leave for semesters or leave the university altogether because they felt unheard.

So I’m left wondering, are administrators going to return us to the same situation we were in before Title Mine? Before the op-eds cluttered their inboxes with notes from upset parents? Are they happy with the lull, hoping for a return to the silencing culture that allows rape to happen? Are they going to use our responses about alcohol to justify a focus on the tools assailants use rather than the assailants themselves?

I’m worried, Wash. U. I want someone to listen to our stories and take us seriously, without trying to undermine, minimize or erase us. And I don’t feel like we’re going to get the respect we deserve just yet.