Senior Aliese Gingerich, founder of the group, says that even talking about sexual health “can be very hush-hush,” especially on a Christian college campus.

But that “hush-hush” has been less so lately. In recent controversy, a Rolling Stone article about the alleged gang rape of a female student at a University of Virginia fraternity party was . Also in the press has been the recent government scrutiny, related to Title IX gender equity laws, of how colleges and universities handle sexual violence and harassment complaints.

Add the new Coalition’s efforts to the discussion. The group also goes by the acronym of “SPEAK,” which means Support survivors, Prevent assault, Empower bystanders, Advocate for change, and Know yourself and your rights.

“We want to cultivate a more honest and supportive campus climate for survivors of sexual assault,” says Gingerich, “and a climate that is more proactive in preventing sexual violence.”

Most incidents go unreported

Overcoming barriers to communication is the cornerstone of this student-initiated and administration-supported initiative, according to faculty sponsor and .

“The more we are aware, talk openly, and face this as a campus,” says Comer, “the healthier we become.”

The group has raised awareness this month through a day of activism and a discussion on healthy sexuality in Common Grounds with the Campus Health Educators organization. They hosted a final discussion and meeting in University Commons to make plans for next year.

Two incidents of sexual assault have been reported from 2011-2013 in 91����Ƶ’s most recent Campus Safety and Security Report. However, according to a 2003 study published by the international journal Criminal Justice and Behavior, “completed and/or attempted rapes [among college students] were reported to law enforcement officials in less than 5 percent of cases.”

Many people believe that sexual assault does not happen on a Christian campus, or are just unaware of the definition or consequences of sexual violence, says Gingerich.

“I think it’s an organization long overdue on campus,” says junior Hannah Mack-Boll. Her involvement in the coalition was prompted by survivors of sexual violence in her own life, who need support. “Part of that is prevention,” she said.

Graduate student Jodie Geddes, who is studying , says the coalition’s goals span from specific discussions of consent and assault to addressing “the way we uphold human dignity in our society.”

First-year Isaiah Williams was another member volunteering alongside Mack-Boll and Geddes at the coalition’s first event this month, a photo booth where students posed next to their own hand-written statements about what “consent is” and why they “stand with survivors.”

Engaging voices

Gingerich’s motivation to start the group comes from learning about this type of trauma through her mother’s work with the in Iowa City, Iowa. Housed at the University of Iowa, the organization offers a variety of healing, support, advocacy and prevention services, including 24-hour crisis lines, support groups, and awareness campaigns.

“I just grew up hearing lots of stories” about both healthy and violent forms of sexuality, says Gingerich.

When her mother asked what training and resources 91����Ƶ provides, Gingerich says, “then it dawned on me, we really have nothing. And that’s kind of ridiculous … it lit up a fire in me.”

Gingerich worked with Comer to propose a task force to and the President’s Cabinet. From this proposal, the Coalition was born as an offshoot of the Crisis Management Preparedness Team.

Goals of the coalition include engaging “a variety of voices,” says Geddes.

The group also wants to educate the campus community about how to respond to traumatized survivors – to encourage the campus community to become more “trauma-informed,” Comer says. “We often do not take into account the trauma the experience carries. Most people do not want to talk about this, know this, or face this. We are human beings, and this is one of our challenges, even at 91����Ƶ.”

In the center of Thomas Plaza, burning candles were placed on a pile of ice. A nearby sign proclaimed the vigil’s theme: “Melt ICE,” a reference to the unrelenting, and some would say, disturbing policies of U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement that have recently separated Villatoro from his family.

A Honduran native who has lived without citizenship in the United States since the early 1990s, Villatoro was detained on March 3 by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) and deported last week [March 27].

Despite a past criminal record of two misdemeanor charges, supporters say Villatoro had changed his life, becoming a Christian and devoting himself to his family and his congregation. According to supporters, he would be an appropriate candidate for the reprieve offered by President Barack Obama’s deportation policy if an immigrant does not jeopardize national security or public safety.

‘Pastor Max’ known among 91����Ƶ students

Two student organizers of the vigil, senior Aliese Gingerich and junior Rachel Schrock, are among many in the 91����Ƶ community who have a strong connection to Villatoro. He is a co-pastor, with his wife, Gloria, of Iglesia Menonita Torre Fuerte, a small Hispanic congregation based at in Iowa City, Iowa. Gingerich and Schrock attend First Mennonite Church.

Villatoro “was someone who cared about the space and the people in it,” said Schrock. “He would ask you how you’re doing, and he would really listen. He cared about people, and he was a strong presence in the church.”

Gingerich, who spent this last summer working with Villatoro, mentioned the anxiety she felt for him during that time. Villatoro made no secret of his lack of citizenship, even in which he recounted his story of moving to the United States for a better life, meeting his wife, and starting a family. He and Gloria have four children, all U.S. citizens. Gloria, who is from Mexico, is living legally in the United States under the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals, according to the Iowa City Press-Citizen.

Schrock’s fear was realized when she was on a in Georgia, learning about issues that immigrants face in the United States. Ironically, she, along with sophomore Diego Barahona, were visiting a detention center when they learned the news.

Barahona, also a Honduran native, spoke at the vigil in English, with his remarks translated into Spanish. He expressed appreciation for the Mennonite community and their strong support of Villatoro.

Several protests and vigils have taken place over the past several weeks. Congregations in the Central Plains Mennonite Conference – the conference in which Villatoro’s church belongs – have actively showed their support for Villatoro and his family. The conference collected more than 40,000 signatures, including 8,000 from clergy members, from around the United States. Those documents were delivered to the ICE office in Omaha, Nebraska, just one week after Villatoro’s detention. The conference has also started a .

Immigration and Customs Enforcement determined the grounds for Villatoro’s deportation by citing his criminal record – a drunk-driving conviction in 1998 and record tampering, after purchasing a Social Security number in order to get a driver’s license, in 1999. Villatoro has since had a clean record and according to media sources, was unsuccessful in appealing a past deportation order.

Common ground with vigil supporters

In his speech, Barahona also addressed the plight of child immigrants, recalling his arrival in the United States at age 4 and a childhood visit to Walt Disney World, seemingly a paradise at the time.

“In contrast,” Barahona told the assembled crowd, “tens of thousands of child immigrants were not received by a magical kingdom. They were received by a kingdom that supposedly stands for the liberty of the oppressed, but hesitates to take in the youngest victims of the conflict they help create.”

Hannah Mack-Boll, a junior, who works at in Harrisonburg, said she appreciated the “poignance” of Barahona’s speech. She hears many stories similar to Villatoro’s, and remarked on how helpful it is that “we can now gather together to understand the importance of Villatoro’s story in the context of a broader issue.”

“It was encouraging to see such a strong turnout of students, faculty and staff to express our solidarity with Pastor Max and others who have been separated from their families,” said 91����Ƶ president Loren Swartzendruber, one of at least two university administrators to attend the vigil. “The stories shared by several immigrants were important for all of us to hear.”

Getting the word out about that story and rallying support has been one of Gingerich’s recent concerns. She spent two days before the vigil passing out 380 Spanish-language flyers to local organizations, businesses, clinics, grocery stores, and even taco trucks. She wanted to the community to be involved, and to provide a space for healing and reflection.

“Max’s story is a platform for all the other stories like his that don’t get coverage,” Schrock said.

It will be extremely difficult and complicated for Villatoro to regain entry to the United States, according to his attorney.