Friday, April 22, 2016

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Friday, April 22, 2016 | Indiana Daily Student | idsnews.com

IDS

‘FEMINISM MATTERS’

JAMES BENEDICT | IDS

Students gather in Dunn Meadow to listen to Lisa Kwong before marching on Kirkwood Avenue during the Slut Walk on Thursday. The event, organized by the IU Feminist Student Association, began with a speaker series, followed by the march and ended with an open discussion on slut shaming.

Slut Walk protests rape culture and promotes changing the perception of consent By Erica Gibson ecgibson@indiana.edu | @erica_clare05

Quinn Ashley paraded down Kirkwood Avenue with rainbow duct tape covering their nipples. “Yes means yes, no means no, victim blaming’s got to go!” Ashley chanted with a crowd of about 60 people. Ashley, a freshman, marched as part of the IU Feminist Student Association’s annual Slut Walk event. Slut Walk Bloomington, which started in 2012, protests slut shaming and victim blaming. “A woman or anyone should be able to dress or present however they want without being harassed,” said Ashley, who scrawled

“#BodyPositivity” across their chest. Slut Walk began at 6 p.m. in Dunn Meadow, where the FSA set up a photobooth, tables for poster making, trivia and “slut statements.” Middle Way House also set up a table to raise awareness about abuse and sexual assault. Meg Davis, a sophomore, said this was her first Slut Walk. “It’s also the first time I’ve talked about my sexual assault,” said Davis, who posed at the photobooth with a white board that read, “I wasn’t asking for it.” “I’m just glad to be in a giant circle of feminist people,” she said. Casper Mendes, an agender high school student wearing a crochet vulva pin on their jacket, made a pink, blue and purple poster that read,

PERSONAL ESSAY

When the hardest thing is waking up The sky was gray the day I thought about jumping off the Smithfield Street Bridge. Everything was gray, really, in Pittsburgh that summer. The sky, layered with clouds. The sidewalk. The water. The cars. My mind was blank as I crossed the bridge, a path I’d followed dozens of times before between my parking space and my apartment. My eyes glazed over. I couldn’t hear the music in my headphones. I stopped on the pavement and leaned against the cold railing of the bridge, gazing down at the choppy water. The air around me felt too heavy. Would anyone try to stop me? Was it a far enough drop to kill me? How cold was the water in July? Would I really want to die? Under that blue arch I thought about how easy the motions would be: one leg over, then the other. Then just let go. I closed my eyes. I breathed in the thick air, drawing deep into my lungs, but it choked me. In that moment, when my time stood still, people kept talking, laughing, listening to music, flirting, fighting, feeling. It seemed like I hadn’t felt anything in a hundred years. I looked back down. I thought about the pain that grasped at me every day. It would be a way out. It would be so easy. * * * I was never formally diagnosed with depression until I was 20 years old and halfway through my college career, but that was far from the first time I felt it. When I finally did seek professional help, my therapist suggested I was dealing with “double depression” — a term I’d never heard before that describes a condition of major depression overlying years of dysthymia, or a more minor, steady low mood. On top of this, I started having trouble breathing, sleeping, slowing my mind. We added anxiety to my list. Physically and mentally, I obsessed over everything that happened in my life: OCD. I’d been blessed with a trifecta of mental problems during what people call the “best four years of your life.” Depression doesn’t really have a definition in our modern social climate. It’s become such a commonplace word, meaning little more than “kind of sad” and used so dramatically in colloquial speech that its usage as a label for a serious mental disease has become more or less obsolete.

But the world — and this campus — is full of people who hurt when they hear that word, “depression,” used like it means nothing. I wish I felt the kind of disappointment people refer to when they comment that something is “so depressing.” That kind of depression doesn’t leave your body aching. Depression is not the flu or a broken arm. You can’t see it, and for that reason, it often goes unnoticed. But, while it trails slightly behind anxiety in many medical studies, an American Psychological Association study found in recent years, up to 30 percent of college students have seriously considered suicide. Psych Central has reported that close to half of all college students have admitted to feeling depressive symptoms throughout their years at university. The condition is not, as a Google image search suggests, exclusively people wearing dark clothes, curled against a wall in a lightless room with their knees to their chests. Is that depression? Yes. Sometimes. For some people. Sometimes it’s me, but depression looks different for everyone. More often than not, it is invisible or well-disguised. And it’s everywhere. And people aren’t talking about it. * * * The first thing I learned about mental illness is that it’s inconsiderate. As depression and anxiety came into my life full force as an upperclassman in college, it was pretty clear they didn’t care at all I was trying to execute a circus act of balancing work, school, me time and a social life. I’d already perfected my everything-is-great face, so nobody noticed as it creeped in and started to steal parts of me. Sometimes I didn’t notice, between my polished posts on social media and the forced smiles in pictures. I’d make a bet you couldn’t find one picture of me frowning during the worst of it. Working through college while battling depression feels nearly impossible to me at times. A term paper just stops seeming important when you don’t care if you live or die. But my depression takes what it wants, when it wants it. It might take all of my energy one day, my motivation the other. For a time it stole the entirety of my passion for my career, all of my drive to write. It steals my hunger, then my ability to cook and clean and sleep and go outside and

ANICKA SLACHTA is a senior in journalism.

Resources on campus The IU Health Center’s Counseling and Psychological Services takes walk-ins from 8:30 a.m. to 4 p.m. on weekdays. Their after-hours crisis hotline is 812-855-5711. be around other people. All the while, as depression locked away pieces of myself that seemed to have left me entirely, it yelled at me. My depression has a voice, and it’s loud. And persistent. One day, I somehow found the energy during a bad depressive episode to write down everything that voice in my head wouldn’t stop screaming. Helpless, I scrawled. Hopeless. Guilty. Bad girlfriend. Unappreciative. I don’t try hard enough. I could be better, but I choose not to be. Confused. Aimless. Irrational. Isolated. And I believed every single one of those things in that moment. My depression consumed my thoughts, my head, my whole body. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I can’t remember what triggered the episode, but it never really mattered — it was almost always something seemingly insignificant. A flat tire, a broken pen, no free seats at Barnes and Noble. I started to drop my IU classes because even one class’s worth of assignments already seemed like too much for me to wrap my head around. What I couldn’t drop, I skipped as much as I could. I needed people to stop asking me about my future. Didn’t they know I was just trying to get through the next hour? The hectic atmosphere at a university like IU has been wonderful for me at times, and I’ve loved college. But my last two years weren’t what I thought they’d be. Campus made me panic because I wanted to be alone with my thoughts. Classes made me anxious. Work was a responsibility and I didn’t feel like I could commit to anything because my mood changes were so sporadic. I was often too depressive to want to be in any social situations. I don’t try hard enough, I’d written in that blue notebook in my bathroom. I can never give people what SEE JUMP, PAGE 6

“Love All Sluts.” “Every gender that’s out there needs to be a part of Slut Walk,” Mendes said. “Everybody is affected by gender stereotypes. Feminism matters.” At the Slut Statements table, visitors were encouraged to write down their own experiences with harassment. FSA member Sophia Muston said the club plans to use the statements to create suggestions for the IU Student Association on changing campus culture. “We wanted to be more interactive this year,” FSA member Carmen Vernon said. “Slut Walk is often criticized for being very white SEE CONSENT, PAGE 6

Weekend rape reported to BPD From IDS reports

A 21-year-old woman reported Wednesday she had been sexually assaulted last weekend on the city’s east side, according to a police report. The assault occurred in the early hours of the morning Friday, April 15 during Little 500. The alleged rapist is a man known to the victim, according to the report. The woman declined medical

treatment and did not receive a trauma kit, Bloomington Police Department Sgt. Joe Crider said. BPD has opened a criminal investigation, Crider said. Because the case is active, information regarding the reported rape’s proximity to campus, a description of the alleged rapist and an indication of whether or not the woman is an IU student were not provided. Hannah Alani

EMILY ERNSBERGER | IDS

Presidential candidate Ted Cruz addresses a sold-out crowd at the Indiana Republican Spring Dinner on Thursday at Primo’s Banquet Center.

Cruz makes stop in Indianapolis for GOP dinner Thursday By Emily Ernsberger emelerns@indiana.edu | @emilyernsberger

INDIANAPOLIS — Presidential candidate Ted Cruz promised tax cuts, job creation and religious freedom to a sold-out crowd at the Indiana Republican Spring Dinner on Thursday in Indianapolis. The dinner and Cruz’s visit come ahead of Indiana’s May 3 primary. Cruz, the second Republican candidate to visit Indianapolis this week, promoted Indiana politics as a model for how the United States should be run and how he would like to lead

as president. “This next election will focus on three things: jobs, freedom and security,” Cruz said. Cruz laid out his platform, which was echoed in speeches by Sen. Dan Coats and Gov. Mike Pence. Cruz advocated for abolishing the IRS, repealing the Affordable Care Act, instituting a flat tax, job creation through infrastructure projects, school choice and religious freedom legislation. All three Republican primary candidates — Cruz, Donald Trump and John Kasich — were SEE CRUZ, PAGE 6


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