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59 pages 1 hour read

Chanel Miller

Know My Name: A Memoir

Nonfiction | Autobiography / Memoir | Adult | Published in 2019

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Chapter 13Chapter Summaries & Analyses

Chapter 13 Summary

Chapter 13 begins with the Larry Nassar case. Miller is inspired by the testimony of the young gymnasts. Noting the presence of the survivors’ parents in the audience, Miller contemplates the ways in which loved ones experience “the second ring of effect,” often questioning, “[W]hat could I have done to prevent this” (294).

Miller’s faith in the justice system is restored slightly by observing the way Judge Aquilina centers Nassar’s victims and “[makes] time for one hundred and sixty-nine statements” (295). Doing so allows space for survivors to heal and “turn[s] their ship, pointing them toward the horizon” (295). Miller states her hopes that Stanford University could follow this example.

Miller recalls her precious childhood memories of Stanford campus. She contrasts this with the lack of response from Stanford in the days following her assault. This negligence resulted in her “broken trust in institutions. Broken faith in the place [she] thought would protect [her]” (296). Miller criticizes Stanford’s handling of her case and lists the actions Stanford could have taken. Instead, in the days following the publication of Miller’s statement, Stanford issues a statement defending its actions.

Two days before Turner’s release, Miller receives a call from Michele Dauber: Stanford has offered to apologize and to pay for her therapy. Miller questions their motives and soon discovers that, in accepting the offer, she would need to commit to not pursuing legal action against the university. Miller wavers over accepting the offer from Stanford; she sees the opportunity to help her family financially and likes Michele’s idea “to replace the dumpsters with a garden accompanied by a plaque with a quote of [Miller’s] choosing” (298). Miller contemplates how victims, often burdened with financial costs because of their trauma, are nevertheless criticized for accepting any money.

Miller asks Stanford for the assignment of case managers, a policy review, and additional training and lighting around campus. In response to Michele’s criticism that the school failed to reach out, Stanford places the blame on Miller for not taking advantage of the mental health resources offered to her. In spite of this, Miller signs the agreement, becoming sick with anxiety later that evening.

Miller addresses how naïve she was entering her meeting with Stanford, unaware “how huge and imbedded systems are, how impossible they are to dismantle, how tiny [she] was” (303). Miller deposits the money, encourages her family to use it for emergencies, and places some of it “into [her] sister’s retirement account” (304).

Miller attends an art therapy program for survivors on Stanford campus. She continues holding out hope Stanford will follow through with her proposed changes. Miller chooses a quote from her statement for the plaque, but the university rejects it. Eventually, Miller is informed of a small ceremony to be conducted at the garden even though no plaque has been chosen. Miller declines her invitation and continues to refuse the misguided, hopeful quotes Stanford suggests even as it rejects another of hers. Miller feels “a duty to provide a realistic view of the complexity of recovery” to honor the experiences of other survivors (310). Miller states that “sometimes the best we can do is tell you we’re still here, and that should be enough” (312).

The chapter ends with Miller’s hope “that schools will see how much power they have to help or hurt a victim” (312). She calls schools to action to protect survivors. She encourages the reader to visit the garden and think of the two Swedish graduate students who “declared stop, no more, not here, not now, not ever” (313).

Chapter 13 Analysis

Miller admires the dedication of Judge Aquilina to survivors in the Larry Nassar case. She feels a resurgence of faith in the justice system and sees the path forward towards healing. Her observation of Judge Aquilina’s actions helps Miller to see “restoration and compassion [brought] into a space [she] had associated only with torture” (295).

Miller transitions abruptly from her nostalgic reminiscences of her time on the Stanford campus as a child to the simple yet powerful statement, “After I was assaulted, I was left in silence for ten days” (296). Miller sees through Stanford’s attempts to protect their image. More than the apathy she experienced at the hands of Stanford, she is most troubled by “their failure to ask the single most important question: How do we ensure this does not happen again?” (296). For Miller, the answer is clear. She outlines the various steps Stanford could have taken to center the experience of survivors and to protect their students. She lists how Stanford could have taken the opportunity “to conduct a systemic review of procedures and policies. To make sure that when a victim is harmed, there are services in place to take immediate action. To reevaluate safety on campus. To make survivors feel supported” (296-97).

When offered the money from Stanford, Miller realizes that once again “[She] was visible not as a person, but a legal threat, a grave liability” (298). She struggles to accept the money because she knows doing so will contribute to her dehumanization. She criticizes the judgment of victims who accept money, and she calls for “allocating more funds for victims, for therapy, extra security, potential moving costs, getting back on their feet, buying something as simple as court clothes” (300).

Miller’s disillusionment with Stanford continues after her first meeting with representatives from the school, who blame her for not taking advantage of the campus’s mental health resources. Miller recognizes this “subtle gaslighting, the shifting of blame and burden back onto the victim” from her past experiences in court and public (302). Afterwards, Miller realizes how naïve she was “thinking [she] was going to end sexual violence on campus over the course of an hour” (303). As she awaits Stanford’s fulfillment of her proposed actions, she wonders about “how pathetic it was to keep waiting for someone to restore [her] faith in this place [she] so valued since childhood” (306).

Miller refuses to budge when pressured by Stanford to provide an optimistic quote for the garden’s plaque. She maintains a dedication to her greater purpose of connecting with other survivors and doing so in an authentic, realistic way. She no longer waits for Stanford and instead takes up her own call to speak to other victims directly. She once again employs the second person to present a message of hope: “[W]hen you get to the point where you feel like everything’s gone, there’s a little twist, a flame, a small shift. It is subtle, it comes when you least expect it. Wait for it” (311). Miller speaks to herself as a survivor in this moment. Despite the pain of this process, Miller continues to hold out hope for something greater.

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