A Love Letter to Erica Kinsman

---

Erica, 

We never met but we had so much in common. We both grew up in Florida and dreamed of going to Florida State University since we were little girls. We both started at FSU in fall 2012. We even both moved into our dorms the very same day - a week before the rest of the student population. You moved in early to participate in Panhellenic recruitment. I moved in early to fulfill the dream I’ve had since I was 11 of being a Florida State University Marching Chief. We both tried to take down institutions at FSU that supported rape culture. We had the exact same victim advocate. We were both raped by people who insisted we could trust them. 

I often fantasized about what I would say to you if I ever met you. When you bravely came forward to seek justice for the horrible injustice that was done to you, the entire country took notice. When you bravely stood up to make sure a predator would not represent Florida State University, they called you crazy. When the school you loved so much turned its back on you, you sued it for not supporting survivors. You won and FSU had to implement programs to support people like us. 

I watched it all and cheered you on from afar. I was a “kill-joy” any time someone made a Jameis Winston joke. I listened when boys ran their mouth with every horrible, uneducated thought. I meant to thank you for letting me know which boys to avoid at parties. 

I know your story, is it okay if I share mine with you? I was an anxious band geek, not yet graced with the social prowess I now have at 30. I found home and community in the music world. I was endlessly passionate about playing the trumpet - sometimes obnoxiously so. I even majored in music my freshman year of college. When you came forward with your story and faced the life altering backlash of your courage, people claimed it was because football was such a huge tradition in Tallahassee. When I came forward, it was a scummy music fraternity boy. I thought everyone would be on my side. Especially because the university even found one of them responsible.

Of course, you and I knew it was never about football. You and I knew what it was always about. It was about predators protecting their own. Or intended predators who wanted to know they’d be supported when they inevitably showed their true colors. 

Thank you for fighting so hard. Your bravery inspired me. I moved to Tampa after college and worked as a victim advocate at USF while getting my masters degree. I never forgot the lessons I learned from watching you. Thank you for being you. For helping the little girl in the Marching Chiefs break out of her shell. They will never silence us. 

Can my friends all do me a HUGE favor and make sure the message gets to Erica? She deserves to know the impact of her incredible bravery. 

Sincerely, 

A girl who found her voice because you used yours

Echoes, F.S.U. 

Dear Sinfonians, 

I first heard of you in 2012 when I was 18 years old. I was a naïve Music Education major and an ecstatic new member of the World Renown Florida State University Marching Chiefs. I had never even considered the idea of doing anything other than going to FSU and being a Marching Chief. The only home I had ever truly known was in a band room. 

I grew up in a severely abusive household – it was not uncommon for me to wake up to my mother beating me in the middle of the night. My friends couldn’t understand because they all had parents that loved them. My family told me it was my fault because I was unlovable. As hard as I tried to believe it was not true, no one seemed to care. No one stepped in to save me. No one told me it wasn’t my fault. No one even said sorry. 

Finally, 7 hours away from my abusive parents, I was able to truly start my life. I arrived at FSU seeking the only three things I have ever wanted in life: safety, love, and acceptance. I started hearing the name “Phi Mu Alpha” around the College of Music and on Chiefs field. I looked around and saw older Chiefs I admired wearing their letters. Some of my closest friends from that period of my life couldn’t wait to join you. 

But you stole any chance I had at finding safety, love, and acceptance in the FSU music world. Nearly a decade later, you have yet to apologize. 

I went to several of your recitals during my first two years of college, cheering on the friends of mine that had joined your ranks. I smiled through each serenade, cringing internally each time one of you extended your hand to me. Ultimately, I believed you to be an oddball group of boisterous yet good men. 

Then I was raped by your brothers. Again and again. And laughed at by you for being so easy to rape.

It was at a party hosted by Phi Mu Alpha that I was raped by a brother for the first time. I was a virgin. His name was Matt Mariutto. I met him only a few minutes before he raped me. Having been in survival mode for so much of my life, dating was never something that took priority. At that time in my life, I believed I would stay a virgin until I found someone who loved me. Matt stole my virginity, viewing it as nothing more than a trophy to add to his vast collection. 

The next rape was less than 6 months later. I was at a Halloween party and looking for my friend, a proud Sinfonian. I approached another brother named Travis Sapp asking for help locating my friend. Instead of leading me to my friend, he raped me as well. 

In the era of Jameis Winston and the Forced Sex University, I was terrified of the backlash I’d face for reporting it. I didn’t want anyone to accuse me of “ruining” a man’s life. I thought about the one thing I had ever wanted from anyone who hurt me: an acceptance of responsibility for causing harm and an apology. Above all, I wanted to know he would not do it to me or anyone else again. I settled on a Title IX report with Florida State University and a disciplinary hearing. Through every step of the process, I requested Travis not be suspended or expelled. Instead, I wanted him to take ethics courses to learn about consent and be removed from your fraternity. This act of compassion for Travis and your brotherhood would haunt me for the rest of my life. 

Instead of apologizing, Travis weaponized the process and manipulated the brotherhood into helping him. He convinced a dozen brothers to write letters defending his character and saying I was lying. One of those brothers showed up to the hearing. Another was a professor of Music Therapy in the FSU College of Music and a respected brother named James Riley. When he was found “responsible” by the university, he twisted the narrative and made my very personal trauma the public knowledge of the brotherhood. The university only gave him ethics courses, after all. He couldn’t have done anything THAT bad if the university chose not to expel him. Right?

I approached the chapter’s executive board for help. I shared the official decision letter from the University, the very detailed initial complaint I submitted, and the letters Travis collected from the brotherhood. It was cut and dry, Travis Sapp raped me and hid behind the brotherhood. I thought there was no chance the brotherhood would want someone like that to call themselves a Sinfonian. The only problem? Matt Mariutto, my first rapist, was Vice President. 

The chapter had several meetings about me, ultimately deciding that protecting the brotherhood was more important than making sure a rapist did not hurt someone else. Because of the “secrecy” of the fraternity, everyone refused to talk to me about my own rape. They called me names, mocking me for coming forward to protect other women. Until the day I die, I will never understand why no one in those meetings realized Matt Mariutto had also raped me.

Brothers, it was each and every one of you that sent me to my third rapist, Will Wright. This brother was an alumnus who lived four hours away. I thought he would be safe because he told me he wasn’t like the other brothers. He told me I could trust him. It was the last time I allowed myself to trust a brother of Phi Mu Alpha without questioning their intentions. 

I knew it wouldn’t be safe to come forward again. So, I sat back and waited. I spent the years recovering, working with other survivors, and breaking down the systems of oppression that allowed you to do this to me. I always knew I was going to come back to finish what I started. This time, I won’t be scared into submission.

Nationals has refused to talk to me. The official position that was communicated to me by Tyler Bainter is that it is within the right of the brotherhood to take no action when a sexual assault is reported. I am asking each and every one of me to join me. Hold rapists accountable. Hold those that protect rapists accountable. Hold those who believe the brotherhood of Phi Mu Alpha is more important than public safety accountable. 

I want you to join me. I want to help make Phi Mu Alpha the brotherhood it deserves to be. I want to restore safety, love, and acceptance to the music world. Please join my fight. I can’t do it without you. 

In Solidarity, 

Jen Kovacs Burkett, born 1993, likes wiener dogs.