A Letter to the Bryn Mawr Community
Note: The following letter comes from one of our Bryn Mawr Community members in light of the recent case at Gilman. It serves as a reminder that whether or not it feels like it, you are never alone. We all have a right to be in control of our lives, so if you feel your safety or comfort is being or has been threatened, we encourage you to reach out to a trusted adult or engage in one of the resources below.
School feels weird right now. I know I’m not the only one feeling that. Like most of you, I read the articles. I had the dinner table talk with my parents and the text chains with my friends. I’ll admit to you now that I used to think people wouldn’t or couldn’t understand. That my own story of abuse would be alien to those around me. I feel wrong for thinking that now. When we first heard the news of the situation at Gilman, my friends and I came together. We sat there, glancing but not looking at each other. And for a long time, none of us said anything. We just held each other the way only young children do. And then it came. The inevitable “I have something to tell you.”
Many of us had stories of our own, stories we shared as we held each other close. These people I had known for years, transformed into strangers as they told me things I never knew. We took turns sharing truths. Some were barely whispers, some practiced and confident. A smile or nod indicating a finished turn. We never let go of each other, even as we wiped away tears or covered our faces. I’m ashamed to say that I didn’t know. That I could never have guessed at the experiences of my friends, just as they couldn’t have guessed at mine. I thought I was alone, just as they did.
I’m telling you this not to find some sense of pity or anger. My own anger is tired and I have a deep disdain for pity. I’m writing this because of Gilman. Because I know what it’s like to have your trust weaponized. To walk around with that pit in your stomach and that ache on your skin. It leaves its mark on you in a way some will never understand. And I wish I could say that it goes away, and maybe for some it does. But for me, it’s stayed with me since I was six years old. It gnaws away at you, making it easy to feel hopeless. To feel like some irreplaceable part of you was stolen. But what you might not understand now, is that it does get better. That people, believe it or not, can and will understand you. I know it’s scary, and sometimes it can feel overwhelming, but I wouldn’t be here today without the support I received after speaking out.
I won’t touch on the ongoing criminal case concerning Gilman. I never knew him, nor did I experience the acts outlined online. But I knew someone like him. I understand. And there are more of us out there than you would ever know. And if you’re sitting there thinking that you don’t know anyone who has experienced this, you do. You know me. I am one of you. You might pass by me in the hallway or see me at lunch, and you would never guess my story. I’ve come a long way since I was six years old.
I wrote this because I want you to understand that you’re not alone. No matter who you are or what you’ve gone through, there will always be at least one person in this world who understands you. And with time and support, it does get better. So good luck out there. See you in the lunch line.
Resources:
National Sexual Assault Hotline : 1-800-656-HOPE (4673)
CPS: 410-361-2235 (Baltimore City)
** BMS Reporting Form **
If you all feel it appropriate here are a few additional numbers related by not specific to sexual misconduct.
Baltimore City Crisis Hotline: 4104335175
Baltimore County Crisis Hotline: 4109312214
The Crisis Text Line: Text 741741 and a trained counselor will respond.
The National Suicide Prevention Hotline: 1-800-273-8255
National Domestic Violence Hotline 1-800-799-SAFE (7233)