If you want my story, you'll have to play by my rules. 

I've done my fair share of interviews over the last three years. Since the bill that I advocated for has become law, I've lost track of the number of times I've spoken to the media about my advocacy work.

I've considered these interviews as opportunities to continue to advocate for sexual assault survivors.

More often than not, my advocate voice is muted and chopped. 

My entire interview is often edited down to a few out-of-context sentences, painting me in a light not reflective of who I am.

As a media student, I get it. I understand that reporters need to support their story angle. But, as an advocate, it is incredibly frustrating.

For example, when I am asked questions in a way that attempts to heighten the emotion of my statements, even after I have already given a clear answer.

Recently, I was interviewed about the impact the law is having on North Carolina Law enforcement training. 

The reporter asked if I  thought about what happened to me every day, to which I replied, “No.” I said that generally, I didn’t think about it unless I received an interview request, but I thought it would never really be a normal thing for me. I also said I found it amusing when a politician wanted to talk about my advocacy work– the oddity of being a limited-purpose public figure definitely hadn’t worn off.

Guess which sentence was used in the story?

The lone sentence of it would “never be completely normal for me” was used. This created a drastically different impression than the amusement I communicated, along with the fact that I didn’t think about it every day. 

That single sentence created a false impression that I am somehow haunted by that night. 

In that example, my words were chopped up to convey an emotion that doesn't exist, and THAT feels like a violation of my consent. And if you've ever been assaulted, you know what a damning feeling that is. 

I was also asked if that night was “the worst night” of my life. I was so caught off-guard by the question that I actually laughed. I explained that I had experienced other traumas in my life that rank higher for what I’d consider the worst night of my life.

Once again, the tactic was to get a dramatic statement. And because I didn’t give a dramatic response, my words were barely used.

My messages have been neutered for long enough.

In these instances, the reporter was able to do their job the way they needed to. However, I couldn't do MY job, which is to raise awareness and to push for change where I see injustice.

Of course, I know I can't rely on the media to communicate every message I have. Still, there must be a way to preserve a journalist's story angle while also creating space for the advocate's voice. If storytellers are uneasy writing about social change, they should leave the task to colleagues who can give advocates a platform without the added dramatization.

Stay tuned for part two, when I’ll list my rules of engagement for future media interviews.