That is the ratio of women who will be raped at some point in their lives.
One in five.
That is the ratio of woman who will be sexually assaulted while in college.
As a young woman in society, this is something that often sticks out in my mind. Not because I am living in fear or paranoia from watching too many episodes of Law and Order: SVU. But because this is the world I live in.
Going into my senior year of high school, I have become more and more aware of the fact that men look at me (as is a fact of life for any woman). But it became painfully obvious when I was sexually harassed at a Fivestar on my way to school.
I had stopped at that gas station for two reasons that morning. One reason was to fill my car up in fear that I would not make it home after school. The second reason being my Spanish class was having a small party that day for Cinco de Mayo and I had to get chips. When I had went into the store to pay for my gas and chips, I had noticed a man just kind of staring at me. Let’s call him Steve. Now Steve did not look out of the ordinary. Just an average guy having an average morning. He stood behind me in line while I paid for my gas and my chips. I said my pump number and left the store. As I was pumping my gas, this business box truck (not to call the business out, let’s say the van belonged to Steve's Laundromat) pulled in front of my car blocking me into to my pump. Steve got out of his box truck, walked over to me, and stopped about 4 feet in front of me, dividing us was the actual pump. He very aggressively asked me my name and if I had a boyfriend. I didn't respond, I just stood there looking at him as he repeated the questions once again. Being ignored once again, he proceeded to reach out and grab my arm. I promptly jerked my arm away from him and ran inside the store. When I came back out, he was gone. Knowing it was safe, I finally made my way to school.
I told one my favorite teachers about what I had experienced as well as texted my mom and told her. The response I got from both of them was a comforting tone. They told me to be safe and not to go back to that gas station. Now let us pause for a moment. Without knowing, my mom and the teacher indirectly put the blame on me. Telling me ways to avoid the situation than actually solving the problem. This really made me start to think about what my life as a woman will be. I wonder if my life will result in avoiding than actually solving. My mom did call Steve's Business later that day and proceed to tell them off. She wanted the name of the driver (remembering Steve is not his real name), but the business said it wasn't their fault. That they didn't have the means to tell who was in the truck as I had failed to catch the license plate. But why is it my responsibility to do that? Why is it my job to catch the guy? Yes, we all agree that what this man did was wrong, but why does the ultimate “bad decision-making” fall upon my shoulders?
Why does the final blame belong to me?
Knowing that the odds are stacked against me and that I'm the only one who can "truly prevent" this, I just stay prepared. I don't get gas at night, whisper my pump number, and to stay long enough just to catch the license plate.
