Koko Lee
Amanda was raped two and a half years ago.
It happened during her second date with an Illinois man she met on a dating website. “He seemed like a nice guy and was a single parent like me,” says the 46-year-old real-estate agent in a recent interview. On that evening in March 2016, the two had dinner and drinks at a downtown restaurant. “Things were going well and I liked him,” she says. Back at her place, they began to kiss in the living room. The pace picked up quickly.
Amanda — which is not her real name — pleaded to slow things down but he wouldn’t. She said ‘No’ and ‘Stop’ repeatedly. He didn’t. She tried to push him away but couldn’t. “He was just so much stronger than me,” she remembers. Despite her attempts to get away, he held her down and raped her. Soon after, he left.
In the days after the attack, Amanda blamed herself. “I felt like it was my fault because I invited him into my house,” she says. “I was upset I put myself in that position.” Anger, confusion and regret came and went, “but mostly, I just tried to forget.”
She decided against reporting the assault to police for many reasons. “It would have just been my word against his,” says Amanda. “I didn’t want to have to relive the whole experience in court and it’s possible that nothing could happen even if I did report it.”
Then the #MeToo movement exploded. Starting on Oct. 15, 2017, Amanda watched as woman after woman after woman — many she had known for years — posted the #MeToo hashtag on Facebook and Twitter signaling that they too were victims of sexual assault.
“My heart was pounding out of my chest with love and frustration at the same time,” she remembers. “It was beautiful to see — this was sisterhood rising up.”
A couple of months later, Amanda was invited to join a secret social media group for single Madison-area women that was taking the #MeToo movement to the next level. The clandestine Facebook group — which had been around for a few years — was created for one purpose: to name local men who had sexually assaulted women. The goal of this digital whisper network was to warn other women before they became these men’s next victims.
In March — almost exactly two years after she was raped — Amanda did what other women in the group were doing: “I posted his name and photo and said ‘This is my rapist.’”
The reaction to Amanda’s post was similar to others she’d seen on the forum. People thanked her and commended her courage. “It was all very supportive,” she says.
Amanda is glad she outed her rapist in the secret group. “It’s about us protecting each other,” she says. “I felt like I had to do something and this was it. If doing this can stop another assault from happening — that’s the goal.”
When she named her attacker last spring, the secret group had about 800 members. Now, it has more than 1,000. Group members can also post anonymously by sending the information about a man to the group moderators, who will cover up the name of the sender.
On average, Amanda estimates there are five posts a week naming a local man who’s committed sexual assault. Some assaults are recent, some are from years ago.
Another woman, who asked to be called Natalie, joined the secret group over the summer. “It’s great that we’re looking out for one another, even if we’re complete strangers,” she says. “It’s not just alerts [about assailants] — there are also women seeking advice or have a date coming up with a guy, so they post a name or photo to see if he has any bad history.”
Natalie, 41, works in education policy. She notes that women in the secret Facebook group also discuss other relationship issues, like difficulties with their exes or families, and sometimes post dating memes.
But given that posts in the online group are meant to be secret, group moderators keep tight reins on membership. “Anyone they think might be leaking to someone outside the group is kicked out and blocked right away,” explains Natalie.
In fact, after Amanda asked the secret group moderators if they wanted to be interviewed by Isthmus for this story, they removed her from the group. “It’s fine — I’m not dating right now, so I don’t really need it,” she says, adding that she’s since started her own, smaller secret Facebook group where she finds the emotional support and sisterhood she needs.
Whisper networks are nothing new.
“Women have always talked to other women about bad dates and bad men and we always will, but now, we’re using technology,” says Dana Pellebon, 43, who was raped in her early 20s.
And secret online forums have been around almost as long as the internet. “It all began in the ’80s with messaging boards and then really expanded further in the late ’90s with services like AOL Instant Messenger,” says Ananda Leeke, author of the book Digital Sisterhood: A Memoir of Fierce Living Online.
“They want to build community, they want to create a safe space, they want to be able to talk freely without being censored and they want to share what’s happened without having to explain themselves,” Leeke says. “It gives people a platform that a lot of them don’t have elsewhere.”
Dana Pellebon: “There’s not a female friend that I have, that I know of, who has not been assaulted.”
Pellebon is a matriarch of Madison’s sexual assault survivor community. She’s known for unabashedly posting on social media about sexual assault, violence, gender inequality and harassment.
Because of that, she’s been contacted by “hundreds and hundreds” of sexual assault victims on social media and in person over the past decade. Most are seeking advice or a compassionate ear. Many name their attackers.
She always advises the women to seek professional help. “I tell them who to call because it’s not my place to be their therapist,” says Pellebon, who works for the housing nonprofit Porchlight and is a theater producer and director. “So I say, ‘Here’s some great resources and I’m here for you as a friend.’”
While she’s glad the women feel confident in reaching out to her, the multitude of messages Pellebon deals with can be difficult.
When she gets a new message from a woman about being assaulted, “I feel sad because it’s another one,” she says. “And, I get angry because it happens to so many of us. There’s not a female friend that I have, that I know of, who has not been assaulted. Literally, not one.”
Secret groups aren’t unique to Madison. Last year, the “Shitty Media Men” spreadsheet made headlines for secretly circulating names of men in the publishing industry alleged to have sexually assaulted or harassed women.
Catalina Toma, an associate professor at UW-Madison who studies how people interact using technology and online tools, says these groups allow people to share information anonymously in an environment where staying anonymous is difficult.
“Given that people are concerned about everything they say living on forever on the internet, it makes sense that people will try to carve out spaces where they can feel protected or less exposed,” Toma says. “And with the secret groups, people are really careful about who they allow in — it’s invitation only, they’re not visible, they’re not searchable, they’re not accessible to anyone else.”
Toma says the groups may also encourage “people to speak up when maybe they wouldn’t have otherwise because they feel less marginalized. There’s solidarity.”
UW-Madison’s Catalina Toma: “With the secret groups, people are really careful about who they allow in.”
Madison police know that local women are discussing their sexual assaults online in secret forums because it’s come up in investigations.
“I have had many cases in which social media and private messaging has played a part,” says detective Tracie Jokala, who’s investigated more than 100 sexual assaults in 10 years as a detective. “I had a case in which the victim told me she chatted with another victim of the same suspect, months prior to contacting police, over Facebook. I was able to get those records and add them to the case. The fact that the victim told the same information to someone, months before coming forward to police, bolstered her credibility.”
Jokala sees how secret online communications naming attackers could help victims and other women.
“As a means of finding support and being able to work through the trauma of a sexual assault, I think it’s great,” she says. “A small percentage of men commit the majority of sexual assaults, so making other women aware of who these [assailants] are can only be a good thing.”
But, Jokala warns that when police learn that victims have discussed an assault with others, it’s their job to get a record of those conversations.
“Victims who opt to engage in online forums and information sharing should keep in mind that at some point, what they post privately could end up as evidence in an investigation,” she says. “The chances are slim, but they are there.”
Kat Riley, a Madison police detective for more than eight years, says when police learn about online conversations, they ask victims for copies of those conversations, or, if need be, police will file search warrants with the social media companies to obtain them.
These conversations might help secure a prosecution, but Riley adds, “It can also be used by the suspect’s defense team as the case progresses to try and get the case dismissed or get a not-guilty verdict.
“I think it is very important that [sexual assault] survivors keep in mind that there is very little that is truly private anymore in terms of conversations over digital media,” adds Riley, who estimates she’s investigated about 60 sexual assaults in the past three years.
She notes that the accusations might also damage innocent people. “Clearly it would also be very unfair to an innocent person to be falsely accused based on this false identification.”
As the #MeToo movement grows, so too does a backlash. That backlash intensified after the hearings for Brett Kavanaugh’s Supreme Court nomination, in which Kavanaugh lashed out against accusations he had sexually assaulted women.
Donald Trump Jr. noted he fears more for his sons than he does his daughter. Some have raised concerns that due process is being tossed aside, leaving those accused no recourse to defend themselves.
One local woman, a 36-year-old small business owner who asked to be referred to as Ann, says she’s also seen an uglier side of the local Facebook group, watching it stray from its intended purpose of outing predators and rapists.
“Initially, [the local Facebook group] was pretty useful,” says Ann, who joined the group in the spring. “I would search it to see if a guy I had gone on a date with was [listed] in there.”
She noticed a few guys she’d seen on local dating apps, but had never met anyone who had been flagged. However, Ann eventually started to sour on the group. She saw women post names and photos of men who hadn’t committed crimes — but had been a bad date or dumped someone.
“It got really petty,” Ann says. “[The group] is toxic and run by some blatant man haters.” Ann has since left the group.
Of the many local sexual predators discussed by assault victims with Isthmus for this story, one Madison man stands out.
Allegations against him include multiple rapes, groping, harassment and drugging women. His actions have been known to local women for years. And while he still walks free — and has no criminal record in Wisconsin — he serves as an example of how these local digital whisper networks spread information and how women warn each other about predatory men.
A 37-year-old woman who asked to be called Jenny says this man raped her in early April 2012.
“I remember him and a friend carrying me out of the bar because I couldn’t walk,” says Jenny of the first — and only — time she hung out with the man. “I was falling-down drunk.”
Jenny remembers somehow arriving at the man’s house. The only other memory she has is of him on top of her. “I remember a very brief flash of it happening,” she says.
Married at the time of the assault, Jenny says she couldn’t have consented to sex. “This never would have happened if I had not been drunk. Absolutely would not have happened,” she says, adding that she hasn’t had alcohol since that night in 2012. “If I couldn’t walk, I couldn’t consent.”
She woke up naked the next morning, grabbed her clothes and raced out of the man’s house. Over the next couple of years, Jenny was able to work through her feelings of guilt with a therapist. “I realized that this was something that happened that was outside of my control,” she says.
Then, this spring, Jenny began to tell other women what happened with this man in individual online chats. She soon realized she was just one of multiple victims and that “it was a pattern with this man — what he did to me wasn’t just a fluke,” she says.
Jenny was considering going to police. But in May, she realized she had just missed the six-year statute of limitations on rape in Wisconsin.
Although she can’t file charges, she has been warning other women about this man. While Jenny doesn’t belong to the large 1,000-member local, secret Facebook group, Amanda posted about the man who raped Jenny on her behalf. Amanda says she’s talked to four women who have been sexually assaulted by this man. And dozens of other women contacted her to describe “horrifically gross, inappropriate, vulgar stuff” he’s said to them, she says. “[My inbox] was flooded with women telling me things,” she says.
Natalie, who knows two women raped by this man, thinks she narrowly escaped being another of his victims.
After connecting with this man on a dating app, she went out with him for drinks a couple of times last December. It went fine and they “had a nice rapport,” Natalie says. Then, she got back with her ex-boyfriend and told this man so. But he wouldn’t leave her alone. He started randomly showing up at coffee shops and other places where she was. It happened repeatedly “and it was too much to be a coincidence,” she says. She began to feel she was being stalked. “He kept messaging me from multiple fake [social media] accounts, being very verbally violent,” she adds. “I was really scared.”
A couple of months later, Natalie learned about this man’s patterns of predatory behavior and rape allegations while talking with friends in private online chats. She now warns women in person when she sees this man out at bars and events. “I’ve told other women at least four times, saying something like ‘Hey, I’ve heard some really bad stories about him and personally, here’s what happened to me with him — steer clear of him.’
“In my circle of friends, he is a known threat,” explains Natalie. “We all know about him and warn others.”
Zainab Salbi, host of the PBS talk show #MeToo, Now What? says that all of the revelations about assault and harassment that have come out since the #MeToo movement began is only surprising to one group of people.
“A lot of men are shocked, surprised and caught blindsided by what it means to really just be a woman,” says Salbi. “I really don’t think that many men really appreciate how serious this issue is. We’re constantly fending off remarks, unwanted touches, glares and inappropriate demands.
“What’s shocking isn’t that it’s happening, it’s that now it’s over the tipping point and there are consequences,” adds Salbi, who is also the chief executive officer of the humanitarian group Women for Women International.
She says that the internet has given women a tool to resist. “Each era has its own tools that people use to make their voice heard,” she says. “Women have every prerogative to use whatever tool they have [but] social media is a tool, it’s not a movement itself.”
Looking forward, Salbi hopes to broaden the conversations around the #MeToo movement. “We need to all reflect on how we have contributed, not just pluck these people out of their positions and think everything is okay … but really question how have we created this culture [and] how can we actually move the discussion into actual, lasting change.”
Amanda also has hope the culture can be transformed. “I want to make sure women know there’s a place where they can talk and be safe,” she says, adding that women seeking to join a secret group should “ask around, talk to other women in their lives — they might be part of one or know somebody who is.”
Amanda also wants another, very specific population to know that these secret groups exist — men.
“I hope guys learn that we’re talking about them too,” she says. “I want them to wonder if it’s them we’re talking about — maybe that will make them think twice about what they do and change their behavior.”
