Over the past two weeks, the horrific allegations of a rape at a Cornell fraternity have drawn attention from people across the country, the world, and on our own campus. In the wake of Jane Doe’s lawsuit alleging drugging and gang rape, indignation concerning the way Cornell handled the alleged assault has provoked broader debate about how universities should handle sexual violence — and how we should talk about it within our communities.
For Princeton first-years, that on-campus conversation starts with “The Way You Move,” colloquially known as the SHARE play, as their introduction to sexual violence education at Princeton. The play, which is a collaboration between Theatre Intime and the Sexual Assault/Harassment Advising, Resources, and Education office, functions as a teaching tool: it sets a precedent for how we as a campus discuss and respond to sexual violence, and the options and responsibilities we have as potential bystanders. While it isn’t the only sexual assault education available on campus, it is pivotal as one of the first educational resources given to first-years.
The Daily Princetonian reported in September that the plot of the play changed this year, replacing a scene of implied rape with groping. Director Ren Dzyuba ’28 explained in a statement to the ‘Prince’ that the change in the plot was partially due to a struggle to cast the perpetrator, owing to actors’ discomfort and concern about the first-year audience associating them too closely with their character.
While the decision to change the plot was made prior to the news breaking about the events occurring at Cornell, the allegations should remind us that rape culture is very much alive on college campuses whether we choose to confront it or not. The removal of a scene of implied rape suggests a concerning reluctance to have difficult conversations about a topic that is very real for far too many students on our campus — in a 2022 WeSpeak survey, 21 percent of Princeton undergraduates reported having experienced sexual misconduct while at Princeton, 3 percent reported having experienced rape. In prioritizing comfort over education, we normalize a culture of denial when we should be engaging in a direct conversation about the realities of sexual violence.
Moreover, a certain degree of discomfort for both the audience and the actors is necessary for the reality surrounding sexual assault to truly sink in. It’s important that actors feel comfortable on-set and during production, but the play’s narrative is fundamentally concerned with sexual assault. It is a serious play about a serious topic, with a serious plot to match. The SHARE play is intended to help students confront a difficult reality, and ask questions of themselves and the culture around them: it isn’t supposed to be easy to swallow. The play is not meant to be comfortable, because sexual violence should never be a phenomenon that society accepts comfortably.
I am not trying to undermine the seriousness of groping nor am I trying to set a hierarchy or competition between distinct acts of assault. But in removing the rape scene, we’re sending the message that rape is too uncomfortable to talk about.
On the contrary, in trying to shine a light on groping, the change to the SHARE play has indirectly sent the message that groping is a more “acceptable” or palatable form of sexual assault — a violation that we as can be more comfortable around compared to other forms of sexual violence. This was certainly not the intention — indeed Director Dzyuba noted that “while rape is still a common problem on college campuses, groping is often brushed off as an unfortunate event, and therefore often not recognized by the public as a form of assault.” But by cherry-picking which types of sexual violence to address based on actor comfortability, the change in the play reinforces the very hierarchy it sought to criticize. The problem lies not in highlighting the severity of groping as a form of sexual assault, but in exchanging one form of violence for another in an effort to curate an experience perceived to be more mild.
The SHARE play should engage us in active conversations about sexual assault on college campuses because we need to be informed in order to create a more supportive environment for survivors. In real life, we can’t decide what extremes of sexual violence we take on and confront: actors and audience members shouldn’t get to opt out in the play, either. If even this mere implication of rape is too much to talk about honestly, how can our campus truly engage in meaningful dialogue about sexual assault and prevention methods?
It’s important to take the comfort of student actors into account, but that should not translate automatically into reducing the perceived intensity of the play’s content. SHARE could have sought external programs in educational theater, such as the partnership between the New Jersey Performing Arts Center, The Healthcare Foundation of New Jersey, and the Mental Health Association of Essex County, finding support when it became uncomfortable to have student actors performing before their peers.
Rape doesn’t go away if we stop talking about it; it only becomes more excusable in campus culture. We must be able to embrace rather than run from the difficulty inherent to these discussions. Unlike actors or the audience members, victims of rape cannot choose to turn away because they’re uncomfortable. No matter how rough fiction is, reality will always surpass it.
It should be difficult to talk about rape culture. It should make us upset, because those very feelings will ultimately fuel change and nurture a healthier environment where victims are supported and perpetrators are brought to justice. Fleeing discomfort does nothing but undermine victims’ experiences: Princeton has excused itself from a conversation which it — like all college campuses — has an obligation to take on.
Audrey Tan is a prospective Economics major from Pullman, Wash. She is an Opinion columnist for the ‘Prince.’ You can reach her at at4887[at]dailyprincetonian.com.






