Kristin Smart case reveals a darker side of Cal Poly campus — one that still exists today

Content warning: This article discusses gender-based and sexual violence. Survivors of such violence can access virtual confidential services through Cal Poly Safer’s website.

I came to live on the Cal Poly campus for the first time in March, bringing with me the signature, bright pink pepper spray and a personal alarm.

It’s easy to think these tools won’t ever be put to use, but I rarely walk anywhere without at least one of them. Now, amid recent breakthroughs in the 1996 disappearance of Kristin Smart, I grip these small securities a bit tighter.

Paul Flores, 44, has been charged with murdering Smart during commission of a rape or attempted rape. This allegedly happened in Flores’ Cal Poly dorm room, when he and Smart were both Cal Poly freshmen.

On May 25, over Memorial Day weekend, Smart was walking back to her Muir Hall dorm around 2 a.m. after an off-campus house party when Flores offered to walk her home.

It should have taken 13 minutes for Smart to walk from the off-campus Crandall Way party back to her dorm. It takes even longer to walk from my Poly Canyon Village on-campus apartment to the heart of campus — an occasionally desolate route.

San Luis Obispo Sheriff Ian Parkinson has said that when someone goes missing, the first 48 hours are crucial — it’s the time when a victim is most likely to be found alive.

In Smart’s case, those first 48 hours went to waste.

When Smart’s friend reported her missing to University Police on May 27, they said she likely took a Memorial Day trip without telling anyone. When she didn’t return, University Police then painted her as a runaway.

As Parkinson put it, “missteps” continued throughout the investigation: delayed searches, dismissed potential witnesses, unresolved leads and, finally, long overdue arrests.

This negligence continues today.

At a recent press conference, Cal Poly President Jeffrey Armstrong praised the work that led to Flores’ arrest, while failing to acknowledge the true weight this case holds as a clear example of male violence.

Rape, murder and the mishandling of Smart’s case deserve more than a convicted perpetrator. They deserve tangible improvements in Cal Poly’s campus environment.

Not addressing the underlying issue of Smart’s case is dehumanizing. Moreover, it’s expected.

Before even stepping onto campus, the Shades of Cal Poly Instagram page popular among students gave me a glimpse of what to expect here, as it shared stories from anonymous students experiencing everything from subtle sexism in the classroom to having trauma invalidated by university counselors.

One post said a senior student was “repeatedly raped” by a fraternity member and went to counseling to cope with anxiety and PTSD. However, the student’s counselor continuously canceled appointments and stopped returning calls and emails. By the time the student got a Title IX hearing for the rape, the university said the “lack of using school resources” was evidence the student “did not actually experience rape.”

Cal Poly time and time again proves that solving these issues is simply not a priority.

The University has told both The Tribune and Mustang News that “Cal Poly enjoys a relatively safe and secure campus community” with a low number of violent crimes such as rape.

Yet from 2018 to 2019, reported instances of on-campus rape increased from 7 to 20, according to Cal Poly’s 2020 Annual Security Report. Reports of dating violence, domestic violence and stalking went from 5 in 2018 to 49 in 2019.

To me, that’s not “relatively safe and secure.” It’s a constant concern that I or a friend can become one of those cases.

Other students have called for greater security measures around older dorms, including where Smart once lived. This includes cameras, lighting and blue safety towers where students can make emergency calls. These towers are dispersed around campus, mainly around newer residence halls.

Beyond basic security measures, Cal Poly must also be pressured to improve departments intended to heal our campus climate, including addressing countless negative experiences students have had with Counseling Services.

Smart’s case was one catalyst in forming Cal Poly’s Safer department, which offers confidential services for students who’ve faced gender-based issues, from harassment to domestic violence. But in one rape survivor’s experience, Safer was understaffed and overworked compared to other departments like police.

From my own conversations with Safer staff, I understand and value their mission and how hard they work to achieve it. However, when Safer is the only lifeline for students, we must demand greater action.

Still, I’m concerned these resources won’t even be enough to rewire the culture that has allowed for — to quote a statement from the Smart family — the “indifference and lack of resolve” that plagued Smart’s case and continues to plague our college town community.

There’s evidence Flores may have sexually assaulted other women since Smart, meaning early negligence didn’t just delay justice for the Smart family. It also emboldened Flores to allegedly continue harming women for almost 25 years.

The Cal Poly community and administration must acknowledge their part in the system that put Smart, and women after her, in danger.

Recently, the Smart family wrote “Kristin’s story is ultimately one of unwavering commitment, resilience and immense gratitude.”

While we may feel vulnerable walking the same campus years later, we remain a powerful community of women and allies who keep this commitment, resilience and gratitude alive — and Cal Poly wouldn’t be half as strong without us.

Contributing columnist Catherine Allen is a freshman journalism major at Cal Poly, where she works as assistant news editor for Mustang News.

This story was originally published April 30, 2021 at 9:35 AM.