As I parked next to the distinctive blue Subaru with its Vermont green license plates, I felt a familiar tension grip me. Living with post-traumatic stress disorder often means being in a state of heightened awareness. I retrieved my yoga mat from the trunk and walked into my favorite studio, where I rolled out my mat in my usual spot at the back, facing the wall. Settling into seated meditation, I focused on my breath, trying to transition from a busy workday to the 75 minutes of tranquility ahead.
A woman next to me broke my concentration with a question about the props needed for class. She mentioned she was visiting from Vermont. I casually shared that I had served in the Coast Guard in Burlington back in 2006. That was the extent of our conversation before class began.
After the session, I returned to my car, only to find her at the Subaru next to mine. She expressed her gratitude for my help earlier. Then she asked, “So you were in the Coast Guard on the lake, right? Were you there during the rape?” I nodded, a response I’ve grown accustomed to giving.
“Do you know the Coast Guard rape victim?” she continued. This question has become all too familiar, a reminder of the trauma that is often talked about, yet remains deeply personal. Some say it’s a Vermont thing; my friend Nick, a local, explained, “Not much happens here, and your case gets brought up a lot.” Many in Vermont rallied against the Coast Guard’s handling of my assault, demanding justice for me, but I never saw that happen. Nevertheless, I received overwhelming support from the community, who have stood by me in my fight against sexual violence in the military.
This woman, whose name I didn’t know, had insight into the darkest day of my life. I firmly replied, “I was assaulted while serving at the Coast Guard in Burlington. Please don’t refer to me as the Coast Guard Burlington rape victim. I have a name: Dr. Eleni Karas.”
“Eleni” is my first name, given in honor of my grandmother, a strong feminist who raised six children in the aftermath of World War II Greece. Despite the adversities she faced, she worked tirelessly to ensure her children had better lives, each one achieving great success.
“Karas” is my family name, one that echoes resilience. My ancestor changed it during the Greek genocide, a name that translates to “the strong one.” I like to imagine that he embodied the strength and perseverance that runs through my family.
It was my father who immigrated to the United States as a young man, armed only with dreams and determination. Through his hard work, he built a successful business, providing our family with a comfortable life in New York City. From an early age, I learned to use my privileges for good, to give back to the community, and to confront the inequalities that persist in society.
As a child, I took pride in my name. I remember a day in seventh grade when I faced peer pressure to abandon a friend because she wasn’t considered “cool.” My father’s words resonated with me: “What does a Karas do?” I knew then that I had to stand by my friend and oppose the bullying. In moments of joy, confusion, and even trauma, I’ve always found strength in my family’s unwavering support.
Now that you know my name, let me share who Dr. Eleni Karas is:
I am a devoted wife to my husband, Alex, and a proud mom to a wonderful little boy. I cherish the friendships I’ve built over the years with amazing, caring individuals. I am a passionate yoga enthusiast, an avid reader, a lover of ice cream, and a traveler at heart. Although I still experience nightmares stemming from my trauma, I remain vigilant of my surroundings, always aware of the possibility of encountering the man who would have me defined solely by my assault.
I refuse to let my experience of rape define my identity. I do not identify as a victim, nor do I want to be labeled a survivor. I am Dr. Eleni Karas, a woman filled with strength, ambition, and power. I endured a violent crime, shared my story, and founded the Military Rape Crisis Center to provide a platform for others to voice their experiences. I’ve advocated for legislative changes to prevent future assaults and supported others in their battles for justice. Though we faced setbacks, we also celebrated significant victories.
Rape was an event in my life—it did not define me. My identity is shaped by my actions and my resilience. The label of “Coast Guard Burlington rape victim” is a title imposed by my assailant, while “Dr. Eleni Karas” represents the person I choose to be: a mother, a wife, a human rights advocate, a yogi, and a world traveler.
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In summary, while my past is a part of me, it does not define me. I am a multifaceted individual with a rich life beyond the trauma. I urge everyone to recognize the importance of names and the identities they represent.