Know My Name: A Memoir

Miller chooses to begin her memoir with a focus on herself and not on her sexual assault. She employs a series of “I” statements in the first paragraph that help readers visualize what she is like as a person. Details like “I’ll accept every pamphlet you hand out on the street” paint a picture of a shy (1), empathetic human being who values maintaining the peace and pleasing others. Miller explains this choice as a conscious one meant to counteract the dehumanization she experienced throughout her assault, investigation, and the trial of her assailant. As the author, she maintains control over the narrative and establishes transparency with the reader. Despite her opinion that the details of the evening leading up to her assault are not important, she offers the reader the full timeline of events in preparation for the scrutiny they will face during the investigation and trial.

Miller often connects her experiences with those of other survivors. One example is the moment of realization that something happened to her, which she considers a common experience. Miller personifies this realization as an active horror that she could feel “moving, shifting [her] insides, wet and murky and weighted, but on the surface, [she] saw only a ripple” (7). Despite this “brutal awakening” (7), Miller also detaches from the situation in an attempt to protect herself from the violent truth of what happened to her. She notes how her “senses had shut off, [her] body a nerveless mannequin” (8). She struggles with this dissociation throughout the aftermath of her assault.

Miller also details the intense examination that she undergoes to collect evidence of the assault. She provides an intimate look into the invasive and confusing nature of these examinations from the survivor’s perspective. While connecting to the traumatic experiences of her fellow survivors, Miller thus educates her audience on the uncomfortable reality of what survivors must withstand. She does not shy away from exposing the ways in which survivors, often in shock, are required to submit themselves physically, mentally, and emotionally to constant examination. Miller comments on the hypocrisy of this burden throughout her memoir, highlighting the ways in which assailants, who are often male, are not held to the same invasive standards. Still, Miller does find refuge in the care and warmth of the female examiners who conduct the gathering of evidence. She sees them as “a force, barricading [her], even making [her] laugh” who “could not undo what was done, but […] could record it, photograph every millimeter of it, seal it into bags, force someone to look” (13). Women feature heavily throughout Miller’s memoir as fierce protectors who come together to defend Miller against the continued assault on her integrity during the trial.

Miller chooses to include excerpts from the transcripts of her investigation. She often includes actual dialogue to capture essential details that carry heavy emotional weight. In Chapter 1, she employs this technique when describing her first meeting with Detective Kim, the lead detective on the investigation. She includes the dialogue that reveals where Miller was found: behind the dumpsters of the fraternity house. She also documents her initial confusion surrounding these slowly unveiled details, about which she receives no clear answers at this point of the investigation: “I had a foothold in two different worlds; one where nothing happened, one where I may have been raped” (18).

Significantly, when Miller’s sister arrives at the hospital, Miller apologizes for making her worry and asserts her role as the older and protective sister. This need to protect leads Miller to decide not to tell her parents about her assault, as she fears worrying them when she is still unclear about what exactly happened to her. Miller demonstrates the importance of family in her life as she strives throughout her memoir to shield her family from the raw reality of what happened to her. Miller instead attempts to navigate the tumultuous time after her sexual assault by locking away the traumatic memories of the morning after her assault. She symbolizes this with a jar that she places “inside a cabinet, locking it away,” before “walking briskly back up the stairs to continue with the life [she] had built, the one that had nothing to do with him, or what he could ever do to [her]” (28). This choice isolates Miller from those around her. She attempts to protect herself from the trauma and struggles to maintain this detachment as events unfold.