I have been reluctant to post on this topic, but given the enormous volume of
chatter online about this article and given that the author is a college student
from my home institution,* I feel ethically obliged to give some kind of
response. For those who have not yet read it, I advise everyone read the
following CNN iReport “India:
The Story You Never Wanted to Hear,”written by a University of Chicago
undergrad writing under the pseudonym RoseChasm. The author’s real name is now
public knowledge due to the The recent
CNN article covering the worldwide responses to RoseChasm’s piece, however
to preserve her ‘privacy’ I choose to refer to her by the handle she used for
the iReport. Before you read further into this response, I encourage everyone to click on the link above and either read or re-read RoseChasm’s report.
RoseChasm was one in a group of college students that went to India for a 3-month trip, mostly unsupervised, but (as I understand it) somewhat organized by faculty the University of Chicago. As she reports, throughout her trip she was regularly harassed in public, violated on numerous occasions, and survived two attempted sexual assaults in a 48-hour period. At least one other girl in her group was also the victim of an attempted sexual assault. After returning to Chicago, she started experiencing anxiety, depression, etc. and sought psychological help. She was eventually diagnosed with PTSD and is now on a temporary medical leave of absence from the University. This much is uncontroversial and documented in her iReport.
What is apparently controversial is the way she tells her story. RoseChasm frames her experiences in a way which forms a personal testimonial about the violence she suffered. There is no attempt to make arguments for how India can change, there is no attempt to nuance why or how this violence occurred, and there is no attempt to distinguish between Indian men who enact this violence and Indian men who are respectful of women. In short, her piece is not a scholarly attempt to describe a phenomena. It is a testimonial, written from the perspective of a traumatized college student, sharing her story in an attempt to bring greater public awareness.
RoseChasm opens her report with the following:
These events that she details in her report form a cohesive narrative about her travel experiences. While RoseChasm had many pleasant and positive experiences, the memories of (at least some of these) is tainted by the traumatic experiences that followed. She reports the tension she faced when friends and family asked her about her travels. This is a tension I think many of us who travel face, though perhaps to lesser degrees. For me, travel more generally is a complex series of experiences, not all of which are positive. If your experiences include intense forms of harassment or other potentially traumatic events, the complexities are even greater. It can be challenging enough simply to process the complexities of travel experiences, let alone create narratives to be consumed by friends and family. Yet when I return from travel (to the US), I find I am bombarded by people seemingly wanting to live vicariously through me, wanting to experience all the joys of my travel (but none of the sorrows) and so it appears I have little choice. Everyone expects an exciting, happy story. But what happens when, like RoseChasm, you don’t have one to sell? This in part, is what to me is compelling about RoseChasm’s piece. It reminds us of the burden of responsibility we often place on travelers to come back and report happy travel stories.
If we treat RoseChasm’s piece as a scholarly assessment of fact, it is of course hugely problematic. The framing device RoseChasm uses necessitates her identify discrete positive experiences which were in some way tainted by the more traumatic experiences. Criticism has been levied by some, arguing that the particular positive experiences RoseChasm identifies depict an India that is an Orientalist consumerist paradise: an exotic place full of opportunities for cheap shopping and exciting activities such as public dancing at religious festivals, etc. This paradise is then contrasted with RoseChasm’s traumatic experiences of violence which then depict an alternate India as savage and violent. In this narrative, there is seemingly no middle ground for an ordinary (non-paradise) existence in India or for an Indian voice (male or female) to arise. Perhaps for some (under-educated) readers of this CNN report might conclude that India is a horrible violent place and no one should visit. The recent CNN article covering the worldwide responses to RoseChasm’s piece certainly thinks this an issue.
A female student from the same program wrote an iReport in response to RoseChasm titled “Same India—Different Story” under the pseudonym twoseat criticizing RoseChasms’s failure to include an Indian (or other minority) voice. Twoseat reports:
RoseChasm was one in a group of college students that went to India for a 3-month trip, mostly unsupervised, but (as I understand it) somewhat organized by faculty the University of Chicago. As she reports, throughout her trip she was regularly harassed in public, violated on numerous occasions, and survived two attempted sexual assaults in a 48-hour period. At least one other girl in her group was also the victim of an attempted sexual assault. After returning to Chicago, she started experiencing anxiety, depression, etc. and sought psychological help. She was eventually diagnosed with PTSD and is now on a temporary medical leave of absence from the University. This much is uncontroversial and documented in her iReport.
What is apparently controversial is the way she tells her story. RoseChasm frames her experiences in a way which forms a personal testimonial about the violence she suffered. There is no attempt to make arguments for how India can change, there is no attempt to nuance why or how this violence occurred, and there is no attempt to distinguish between Indian men who enact this violence and Indian men who are respectful of women. In short, her piece is not a scholarly attempt to describe a phenomena. It is a testimonial, written from the perspective of a traumatized college student, sharing her story in an attempt to bring greater public awareness.
RoseChasm opens her report with the following:
When people ask me about my experience studying abroad in India, I always face the same dilemma. How does one convey the contradiction that over the past few months has torn my life apart, and convey it in a single succinct sentence?
“India was wonderful," I go with, "but extremely dangerous for women.” Part of me dreads the follow-up questions, and part of me hopes for more. I'm torn between believing in the efficacy of truth, and being wary of how much truth people want.
Because, how do I describe my three months in the University of Chicago Indian civilizations program when it was half dream, half nightmare? Which half do I give
Do I tell them about our first night in the city of Pune, when we danced in the Ganesha festival, and leave it at that? Or do I go on and tell them how the festival actually stopped when the American women started dancing, so that we looked around to see a circle of men filming our every move?
Do I tell them about bargaining at the bazaar for beautiful saris costing a few dollars a piece, and not mention the men who stood watching us, who would push by us, clawing at our breasts and groins?
When people compliment me on my Indian sandals, do I talk about the man who stalked me for forty-five minutes after I purchased them, until I yelled in his face in a busy crowd?
Do I describe the lovely hotel in Goa when my strongest memory of it was lying hunched in a fetal position, holding a pair of scissors with the door bolted shut, while the staff member of the hotel who had tried to rape my roommate called me over and over, and breathing into the phone?
These events that she details in her report form a cohesive narrative about her travel experiences. While RoseChasm had many pleasant and positive experiences, the memories of (at least some of these) is tainted by the traumatic experiences that followed. She reports the tension she faced when friends and family asked her about her travels. This is a tension I think many of us who travel face, though perhaps to lesser degrees. For me, travel more generally is a complex series of experiences, not all of which are positive. If your experiences include intense forms of harassment or other potentially traumatic events, the complexities are even greater. It can be challenging enough simply to process the complexities of travel experiences, let alone create narratives to be consumed by friends and family. Yet when I return from travel (to the US), I find I am bombarded by people seemingly wanting to live vicariously through me, wanting to experience all the joys of my travel (but none of the sorrows) and so it appears I have little choice. Everyone expects an exciting, happy story. But what happens when, like RoseChasm, you don’t have one to sell? This in part, is what to me is compelling about RoseChasm’s piece. It reminds us of the burden of responsibility we often place on travelers to come back and report happy travel stories.
If we treat RoseChasm’s piece as a scholarly assessment of fact, it is of course hugely problematic. The framing device RoseChasm uses necessitates her identify discrete positive experiences which were in some way tainted by the more traumatic experiences. Criticism has been levied by some, arguing that the particular positive experiences RoseChasm identifies depict an India that is an Orientalist consumerist paradise: an exotic place full of opportunities for cheap shopping and exciting activities such as public dancing at religious festivals, etc. This paradise is then contrasted with RoseChasm’s traumatic experiences of violence which then depict an alternate India as savage and violent. In this narrative, there is seemingly no middle ground for an ordinary (non-paradise) existence in India or for an Indian voice (male or female) to arise. Perhaps for some (under-educated) readers of this CNN report might conclude that India is a horrible violent place and no one should visit. The recent CNN article covering the worldwide responses to RoseChasm’s piece certainly thinks this an issue.
A female student from the same program wrote an iReport in response to RoseChasm titled “Same India—Different Story” under the pseudonym twoseat criticizing RoseChasms’s failure to include an Indian (or other minority) voice. Twoseat reports:
As the only black woman (and individual in general) on the trip, I can definitely say that I had a very unique experience in my program. Men stared at me in India. Women stared at me. Children and teenagers stared at me. All the time. I wanted to become invisible in the crowd. I felt that I stood out even more because I stood out very starkly from the Indian population and especially from my white and Asian peers. I was also targeted with harassment, and I felt violated many times on the trip. However, in my experiences in India, I have met a solid handful of warm and honest Indian men- men who are also college students, men who also love the thrill of riding on a motorcycle in the busy streets, men who defended me at necessary times, and men who took the time to get to know me and my culture. And that should not at all be surprising.Twoseat makes a very valid point. RoseChasm’s account does appear to generalize Indian men and fails to address the fact that this violence will have been enacted only by a certain small percentage of Indian men. Regarding RoseChasm’s report, twoseat says:
…
So why should all Indian men be subjected to judgment for the rapes that some men have committed? RoseChasm does not address the fact that there are warm and honest men in India. When we do not make the distinction that only some men of a population commit a crime, we develop a stereotype for an entire population. And when we develop a negative stereotype for a population, what arises? Racism.
I believe that [she] had every right to tell her story, but I wanted to alleviate the burden that it put on many Indians and other people in general. I had no intention of lessening the significance of her experience. I just wanted to highlight the dangers in writing such a one-sided piece on a population.An Indian woman from Bangalore named Meera Vijayan also responds to RoseChasm under in an iReport titled “India: a Different View.” If you visit her profile page you’ll see Meera has written iReports on various topics relating to gender-based violence in India. Meera tells the CNN reporter:
I was inspired to respond because I am an Indian girl who has faced similar experiences that Michaela Cross describes on her ireport. Sexual harassment is common in India. And this can be frightening and traumatic for anyone who travels here. The air of hopelessness for women here is frustrating and I wish that things change. However, I know that although I have faced sexual harassment, there is a side to India that one can truly enjoy and appreciate. And given the heavy air of cynicism about the Indian mindset (which truly is deeply chauvinist), I wanted to point out, on a positive note, that one can also have a beautiful experience here.Meera opens her iReport with the following statement:
I wanted to post this in response to the video of ireporter Michaela Cross's account of what the situation is like in India. First of all, I wanted to express my deepest regret for what she faced. As a girl, who lives here in India, and who has faced several similar experiences I wanted to take this moment to tell you all - yes, this is a side of India that is a reality to most young women who reside here or for that matter travel here.Meera then expresses her concern that foreigners such as RoseChasm may judge India (and Indians) in an unfairly harsh way for the harassment experiences they endure and encourages foreigners to open up more while traveling:
One, as a foreigner, be it a man or a woman, I know that it's an extremely different cultural environment here in India. And sometimes, unless you are in a city, it is common to be stared at. It is definitely not uncommon for people to express an interest to how foreigners dress or behave in public. This can be incredibly uncomfortable, but often times, the tension can be easily broken by merely ignoring this unless you truly sense physical danger. Sometimes not understanding the complexities of Indian life can make you judge its people rather harshly.
Second, I definitely would really advise female travelers to practice caution when making decisions such as travelling alone at night or being anywhere where you aren't quite sure about. It is a fact that it isn't safe. I have been stalked before and groped as well, and these experiences can be frightening and traumatic. But that said, this shouldn't stop you from living your life and exploring India. While India can largely be unsafe, you cannot stereotype a whole nation. Remember, people will always be alien to you if you wish to see them as alien to your life. Once you open up, it is often a very different experience. You will form stronger bonds, understand the situation better and have a positive experience while here. Yes, I find it infuriating that women have so much to fear but then women also have so much to look forward to. And we shouldn't forget that. I think I will leave it here saying - Yes, there are many things wrong about India, but then there is a lot of good too. And that's true of every country, isn't it?While encouraging American travelers to open up while traveling is generally something I would agree with (I think as a nation we tend to spend too much time when traveling connecting with other foreigners rather than connecting with locals!), I’m not certain how Meera’s advice would help someone like RoseChasm, whose experience of harassment in India far exceeded a mere “interest to how foreigners dress or behave in public.” Is public masturbation now an accepted form of expressing curious interest in foreigners? I assume of course that Meera’a target audience is not RoseChasm, but rather future travelers to India who might be reading articles addressing violence against women in India. One thing I greatly appreciate about Meera’s response is the fact that while encouraging foreign travelers to remain open, and look for safe ways to travel to and and enjoy India, she does not try to defend Indian men, nor does she in any was try to lessen RoseChasm’s experience.
However other respondent’s comments are much less supportive. Polly Hwang, a Korean-American female who has traveled to India over the past 5 years with her Indian boyfriend, wrote an iReport in response titled “People who Generalize are Evil: My Response to Michaela Cross's Experiences in India.” As you may guess from the title, this iReport is far from a scholarly critique of perceived one-sidedness of RoseChasm’s report. Rather it reads like a polemic, blaming Michaela (RoseChasm) for all of her traumatic experiences. My favorite paragraph is the following:
Why was I not sexually harassed? It could be that I was just plain lucky. It could also be the fact that I took a lot of precautions to avoid dangerous areas, wear appropriate clothing, behave appropriately etc. Not to chastise Rose Chasm in anyway but she should not have been dancing in the Ganesha street festival known for its hordes of extremely drunk young men. She should not have stayed in cheap shady hostels in Goa which I'm sure had no positive online reviews. She should not be flipping fingers at locals and most importantly, she should have left after her first incident of sexual harassment, instead of staying for over 90 days and developing PTSD. I'm not victim shaming in any way, the pigs who tormented Rose Chasm take 100% of the blame. However as foreigners, it's our responsibility to be aware of how to behave and live in the local culture.
Well Polly, if you are not intending to engage in victim-blaming, you might want to reconsider attributing all the harassment and ill-treatment RoseChasm experienced to the apparent “choices” she made in India (public dancing, choice of hotel, etc.). As foreigners it is certainly our responsibility to “be aware of how to behave and live in the local culture.” But that does not mean that if we experience violence (as harassment and attempted sexual assault are), that this too is our responsibility. The unfortunate truth is there is no method or strategy that can guarantee freedom from harassment. There is no way to 100% prevent the possibility of sexual assault. Individual choices we make in life may impact the risk of encountering some form of violence, certainly. But that does not mean that if we do experience violence, the violence is our responsibility as well. The responsibility and fault always lies with the attacker. Anything else is victim-blaming. Even if we do everything in our power to reduce risk, there is no guarantee of safety anywhere in the world, let alone India. Would you have foreigners hide themselves in expensive (rather than “seedy”) luxurious hotels apart from the way locals live to increase their safety? Would you have women traveling solo hide in their hotel room all day and night long unless accompanied by a friend? Because those are the only ways I know of to completely avoid the risk the public harassment. And sadly, even that is no guarantee of personal safety as I have received reports of even expensive hotels in various parts of India where the staff attempts to assault or harass solo women travelers. Even RoseChasm's "choice" to stay in India long enough to "develop PTSD" is apparently to blame in Polly's account. Now granted if someone is experiencing traumatic experiences while traveling, I would agree it is likely healthier for them to leave a trip earlier than expected if their finances permit. But leaving early isn't always an option for people. There's also the fact that PTSD by it's definition is "post-traumatic," meaning symptoms are experienced only after the trauma is experienced and thus leaving early would not necessarily prevent PTSD nor is it easy to predict when or if someone will experience PTSD. Every statement Polly writes in this paragraph starts with the phrase "she should," implying that RoseChasm is responsible for the violence she experienced in India and the trauma she endured as a result because of things she either did or didn't do. If the author of this response was hoping to dispel misconceptions regarding foreign women's experiences in India, I fear she fell far from the mark. On the contrary, it seems this author contributed a few new misconceptions.
If what we hope to find in RoseChasm's piece is a deeper understanding of the phenomenon of gender-based violence in India, then there are certainly plenty of problems with her account. But I find it highly unlikely that this was in fact RoseChasm’s intent. From my reading of her piece, RoseChasm’s iReport is a testimonial of her personal experience in India, written in response to all the friends and family members who demand exciting, happy travel stories from someone whose experience didn’t allow her to generate them. As RoseChasm herself says in the closing line of her piece: “This is the story you don't want to hear when you ask me about India. But this is the story you need.” Because of her traumatic experiences, RoseChasm could not fully participate in that ritual so many of us feel obliged to endure when we return from a trip—the sharing of travel stories. Because no one wants to hear a downer. Rather than shutting down and avoiding discussing her experiences, she chose to make it fully public and open to critique from others and eventually released her real name to the media.
RoseChasm’s iReport is an act of bravery. It takes courage to share experiences like this in a public forum, in a way that leaves you open and vulnerable for attack and criticism. This is something I understand all too well. Every time I click “publish” on one of these entries I experience a new dose of terror, knowing that I have placed yet another personal experience relating to harassment on the internet in a truly public forum available for everyone to read, analyze and criticize. I write and post about these issues, not because it is easy for me, but rather because it isn’t easy for me. As long as one person benefits from what I write, the risk is worth it to me. But then again, I have never shared an experience so personal as what RoseChasm wrote. And for that alone, if nothing else, she has earned my respect and admiration.
Before I finish, there is one more issue I think should be addressed if we are to fully benefit from RoseChasm’s story. As a public educator, I am highly invested in providing students and other travelers with resources to enable them to travel safely. RoseChasm’s experience greatly concerns me. Is there a way we could have better prepared her for her travels? How do we prepare students for study abroad programs in places like India, Egypt and Kenya with record-high percentages of harassment and sexual assault? Is there a better way she could have been supported while on her trip or after returning? I have no hard-and-fast answers, merely vague ideas. So I want to open these issues up for discussion. I welcome your responses to this post, but I request everyone be polite and respectful. What are your thoughts regarding how we can best prepare solo women travelers heading to India, Egypt, Kenya, and other places with high rates of harassment and assault? What are your responses to RoseChasm’s (or anyone else’s) iReport?
*Disclaimer: This article does not necessarily reflect the views or opinion of the University of Chicago, the Department of South Asian Languages and Civilizations, or any of its affiliated faculty or staff members. The views contained therein are solely the opinions of this author and should not be taken as representing the University of Chicago or any of its representatives.
