Ledger

I could feel his breath on the back of my neck as my anxiety level rose. I could sense his friend goading him into something, heard the two of them make ambiguous plans regarding what they would do to me. My leg automatically twitched, or maybe it was my arm. I kept repeating "back off," or some equally ineffective call, and the one guy laughed, said something like "ooooh, hey, she plays air guitar."

And then the guy breathing on my neck touched me; I wheeled around, eager to meet my assailant and get away, only I hesitated, my knee faltered, I made no contact with his body, and I fell.

I scrambled back up, fought him to the ground, fought his friend to the ground, and then ran to the safety of the blue masking tape.

In that moment, I was RAWR.

It was a simulated moment, but real enough to make my heart pound, to make my muscles twitch, and to bring the survivor in me, trained by the University of Washington, Tacoma Rape Aggression Defense class, to the surface.

The RAD program is new to the University of Washington, Tacoma, and I was lucky enough to be a part of the first class held for female students. The program was started a year and a half ago to teach students principles of effective self-defense, although female students couldn’t be taught until a program for men was implemented. That program will be offered next quarter, at a time that hasn’t yet been determined.

Three members of UWT Campus Safety, Laura Delval, Carson Wright, and Ron Welk underwent training for the RAD program after determining its effectiveness and after collaborating with Associate Professor, Interdisciplinary Arts and Sciences, Carolyn West, who procured funds through a grant.

Emma, one of my RAD classmates, is a server systems administrator for a community college, and has driven down from Port Angeles. She attends all three classes because the UWT RAD program was one of few held locally she found. After researching different self defense programs, RAD is the one she has chosen to learn, and hopes to teach the class in her community. "RAD has the best curriculum," she explains, noting how it compares favorably to other forms of martial arts. Heather, a youngish UWT student, and Susan, a UWT student and mother of a twenty-something daughter she believes would benefit from the class also attend the class, as does Sarah, a petite, dainty mother of two small children who also moonlights as a security guard. The four are a lesson in never judging based on appearances; in the final day of class, they individually beat the stuffing out of our assailants.

By this last day of RAD training, the five of us are able to take on two attackers. We’ve also learned about some physiological aspects of fear, and what we can expect to experience in a panicked state. We’ve learned about date rape, and strategies that will keep us from having to employ our newfound physical abilities.

And we’ve learned that we’re can protect ourselves, and be survivors.

Delval, Wright, and Welk made it their goal to teach the group of us that we weren’t just sitting girlie-targets. Our objective was, as Wright stated it, to "Stun and Run," to temporarily disable our assailants to enable our flight instincts to take over and lead us to a safe exit from the bad situation.

Wright’s emphasis was on calmly educating us to turn our fear into anger, while Welk and Delval encouraged us and kept us going in the right direction, physically, even if that meant inflicting pain on Welk and Wright.

At the end of it all, I noticed a difference in all of us, the class participants. Maybe I was just imagining that we sat straighter, but I didn’t imagine that our stances became more serious, and less girlie as the days passed. I didn’t imagine the what happened to our assailants, nor did I imagine Wright’s words as he prepared to release us into the wilds of the city.

"You ladies are no longer easy targets."

Again, I repeat. "RAWR!"