Four weeks ago, I dropped off my younger daughter to start her freshman year at college. Parents of incoming freshmen get versions of the same emails: about scheduling move-in time and filling out forms. Parents of daughters get an extra assignment. In between buying shower caddies and LED lights, we have to give our girls a refresher course on Rape Prevention 101.

Twelve days later, news broke that a former Cornell student was suing the university, alleging that seven fraternity members had drugged and raped her at the Chi Phi fraternity house in October 2024. She said the university had failed to protect her or adequately punish the participants. Only two of the seven alleged assailants were expelled, and some discipline included having the men write essays.

For women who’d gone to college decades ago, the fury was laced with bewildered exhaustion. I started college in the fall of 1987. Back then, the idea of boys forcing themselves on girls was still the stuff of punchlines. The term “rape culture” wasn’t in wide circulation, but we could see it all around us.

Under pressure, the university hired a counselor to handle sexual assault cases. In 2011, the Obama administration’s Department of Education’s Office for Civil Rights stepped in.