I was 16 years old. I had received my driver's license just a few weeks prior, and that day was my first time driving alone. I sat at a red light, patiently waiting for it to turn green when I heard them. To my right stood a small sedan containing a group of college-aged men. They honked the horn, waved their arms, and catcalled me, trying to get my attention. I ignored them, fixing my eyes, now brimming with tears, on the traffic light. A day that was supposed to celebrate my independence as a newly licensed driver was now one tainted by fear, disgust, and shame. I say "one" instead of "the one," because, unfortunately, it was neither the first nor the last time I saw or experienced a violation of my or someone's safety of mind or body.
This may have been a verbal violation, but a non-physical threat can be just as damaging as a physical one. At 16, as I experienced my first exposure to a little independence, I felt threatened just because I was a young woman. At 16, I understood why there were so many articles, stories, and statistics circulating the Internet and educational institutions about safety and sexual assault. At 16, I realized that my body was at once the most precious physical thing I owned and the object of a persistent threat of violation.
But why should I have been forced to face this "reality" in the first place? Why, with all that has been published and spoken about this topic, are the numbers of threats and cases involving violations of a sexual nature still so high? Why do so many––if not all––people I know have at the very least a handful of stories to share about times when they felt unsafe as a result of lewd comments, harassment, or even assault?
This reality is why events such as You Are Not Alone (which happened earlier this month, dedicated to mental health), Take Back the Night (occurring on April 19, dedicated to supporting survivors of sexual assault), and Take Back the Month (happening all of April), and resources such as Sexual Assault Survivor Services (SASS) and the Rape and Sexual Assault Network (RASAN) are so important. We need to keep talking. We need to keep searching for a solution.
We just spent a week (Love Your Body Week, courtesy of Peer Health) dedicated to understanding, appreciating, and loving our bodies. It is about time we start respecting those of others.
Take Back the Night is at 7 p.m. on April 19 on the Chapin Hall steps.
