Absent Reaction Force (ARF)

During one of my military trainings last summer, I learned about something called a QRF. A QRF, or quick reaction force, is a special group that is held back during part of a mission, in order to provide support to any developing situations that require immediate support. What this looks like in the context I was introduced to it, was on a defense mission. During a defense mission, your forces are occupying a space, and attempting to fortify it against the outside forces who will try to breach you at your weakest points. The QRF, in this context, is able to respond to threats of safety to the group that has punctured or is at risk of puncturing the defenses. Not only is it understood how important having forces to quickly eliminate the threat is, but the speed at which to deal with the threat is given high priority.

I wonder how ridiculous it would appear to us if we were to be a fly on the wall and watch an alternate scenario happen. What if we watched forces come in and breach and there was no QRF present to assist, so we just shrugged our shoulders and looked the other direction? What if one person in the defense stood up from their position and began picking off other soldiers one by one? The irony here is I think this would never ever happen.

But it’s happening now. Where is the urgency? Where is the speed?

College was an eye-opening experience for me. After my LDS mission, I came back to my school, Brigham Young University, and joined an organization that was a part of the school. (because of certain affiliations, I’m not allowed to name the organization or names, which I realize is sort of the exact opposite of the point of what I’m advocating, but it’s the reality of the situation. Please be patient with me). Early on in my time in this group, it became obvious that one of the employees hired in a supporting role for the organization was a pervert and a creep. The actions had been reported, and the man in charge of the investigation claimed to have looked into it thoroughly and dismissed it. Women in the group, who were the primary, but not singular targets of this man’s behavior, all knew to watch out for him. Don’t ever go to his office alone, don’t speak to him for longer than you have to, and do your best to keep away. This was during the time I hadn’t yet found my voice and was very much still trying to be a good girl, so I froze in inaction along with everyone else. During my senior year, it got so bad that someone from outside our organization became a victim of his behavior that was so bad that it was reported to Title IX. At this point, it had gained too much attention, and it launched a full-scale investigation from adjacent organizations. He was put on leave, and the process to get him formally dismissed was long. Later that year, the leader of the organization was mysteriously dragged away by high-level police officers, who performed searches on his computer, and he was never heard from again. Rumors floated around about the type of crime you might expect from the circumstances, but no closure was ever given, even after the investigation finished.

During this time, I had been involved in my own journey with Title IX. When I found out the boy who assaulted me at 17 was in a major adjacent to mine, I decided to report what happened so that I could ensure I wouldn’t have to be in a class with him. When I submitted that report, I was made aware that I was not the only victim of his behavior, and there were several cases against him at the university currently for sexual assault. Eventually, he was found guilty by the school’s investigation, and I thought that was the end of it. The next semester, as I logged in to one of my classes via Zoom, there his horrible face was, introducing himself and saying his name. I shut the computer and called the Title IX office in tears, demanding to know how this could happen. He appealed the case, on the grounds of bias (classic, right? You assault multiple people and the world is probably just against you). During this appeal process, he was given free rein to attend whatever classes he wanted to, as long as he wasn’t physically on campus. This is a loophole that exists, against the counsel of Title IX, within BYU’s system. To this day I still don’t know if him showing up in that class was on purpose or not. The case was decided again, and he was found guilty again. Does anyone want to take a guess at what the consequence was for being a serial sexual offender? For destroying the lives, at least temporarily, of several young women?

18 months suspension.

I understand there is due process. I understand it wouldn’t be fair or right to upend somebody’s life with no evidence. But it feels that in the face of this dilemma, we choose to give the benefit of the doubt to the offender, not because it’s moral, but because it’s easier. Why in the world should it take months and years to root these people out, while giving them access to more victims?

There has to be a better way.

We have a better way for everything else. If somebody calls in a bomb threat, immediate and extreme action is taken to diffuse the situation, as it should be. We recognize that lives are in jeopardy and for every second we lose, that’s another second that the people affected are in danger. But what about sexual violence? The type of violence that is so dark, confusing, complex, and evil that it takes years upon years upon years of untangling and fear and shame and devastation and even then sometimes you never heal. Where is the QRF? It seems as if we have one for just about everything else.

I have nothing but utmost respect and love for the people who worked in the Title IX office. It seemed as if they were people like me, who saw the problem, but felt as if they were working against the system. Shouting in the wind and hoping someone could hear.

I deserved better. Every single person in my program deserved better. The victims in the Title IX investigation deserved better. Where is the outrage?