I always thought that my religion would be enough to sustain me through tough times. It wasn’t until my stepfather died that I realized I needed more help than God could give me.
For decades, the U.S. embargo against Cuba has torn apart families like mine.
The internet is IRL. It always has been.
My rapist was my boyfriend, and all I could think was: How did I end up here?
My rapist came from the same insular Indian-American community at my university as I did. Why did that make it harder for people to believe what happened?
Amidst protests against police brutality, Daniel José Older returns to a favorite novel and explores the misreading of rage.
As a black man I’d learned to fear the police. Then the police became my family.
The gray area where the leaked information resides — between public and private, prurient and illuminating — might not be the exception, but the new normal.
The Senate’s long-awaited report on Bush-era torture techniques puts too much blame on the CIA, and not enough on the American political leadership.
Tatum is a former “Sexiest Man Alive,” but he’s not handsome, at least not exactly. His face charms through blunt force. And there might not be another one in contemporary Hollywood as powerful.
Last year, when I was 17, I was sexually assaulted by a much older man. I’m gradually learning how to talk about it — and make myself whole again.
The ways I’ve been attacked for sharing my story show how far we have to go when discussing sexual assault.
The way the magazine bungled its exposé of rape culture at UVA has caused irreparable damage to survivors — and given ammunition to those already disinclined to believe them.
All fathers are fictional.
How stock images reveal hidden truths about cultural politics in America.
The co-founder of End Rape on Campus on why the Rolling Stone retraction affects all survivors of sexual assault.
The most recent episode of the HBO series perfectly captures rape culture in the wake of Rolling Stone’s apology for “misplacing trust” in an alleged rape victim at the University of Virginia. WARNING: Spoilers ahead for the Dec. 7 episode of The Newsroom.
I woke up naked to find three boys from my school sexually assaulting me. The aftermath was almost as bad.
There’s a type of inborn initiative that comes from having never been obligated to answer questions about the meaning of one’s name that I was always envious of. Now, at 28, I’m slowly becoming myself.
I have to be, because the standards for being a “good” victim of sexual assault are impossibly high.
Watching the disintegration of Rolling Stone’s story has been a brutal reminder of the enormous chasm of understanding that too often stands between journalists and survivors.
I did everything you were supposed to do, twice, and the system failed me in two separate spheres.
I always thought if I was a victim of sexual assault, I would report it. It wasn’t so easy.
The activist in me felt like I was speaking on behalf of all the survivors I’d met. But the young lady in me felt pressure not to ruffle any feathers.
Hollywood just refused to see it.
Police are allowed to use lethal force under specific circumstances, when it’s reasonable to do so. Especially when it comes to black suspects, that means almost anytime.
Academia taught me how to do one thing well. It wasn’t until recently that I understood how well it prepared me to do another.
It needs a “bad” minority to balance the scales. Hello, Jay. (Spoilers for anyone who hasn’t listened to Episode 8.)
The display of sadness following the young batsman’s tragic death shows us what cricket really means to its fans.