PHYSICAL DISUASION
I had dinner one evening with a visiting friend. As I left the restaurant, I could see two men weaving in from the parking lot. As I disdain public inebriates, I made an effort to avoid them by side-stepping to the next set of double doors. When they mirrored my move, my estimation of them diminished from drunks, to drunken jerks. "Hey honey, where ya goin' so fast?", said on as he attempted to wrap his arms around me. Without breaking my stride I gently but intently shoved him into his laughing cohort saying "Get away from me." They were both off balance but Jerk #1's tongue still worked, as I continued out of the vestibule and toward my car. "Why've ya gotta be such a bitch? We just want to party!", he shouted.
Despite his name calling and his rationalization of unacceptable behavior, I did not relent and join them (AS IF!) nor did I engage in a lecture. I saw that they'd given up on me so I left while they veered into the bar.
DE-ESCALATION AND TARGET DENIAL
"Don't you fucking know anything?" He was a towering pro basketball player, and not pleased with my work.
Normally, I give my clients an overview of the work I'll do and we agree on a treatment plan. "Don't bother trying to work that knot out, it's a bullet", he said. Now, despite our agreement and his previously mellow demeanor, he was towering at the end of my massage table, cursing me for not being the prostitute he'd expected when he'd asked the hotel's concierge to find him a masseuse.
I loudly stated that I would take my gear and go. Then, more calmly, I told him there was no need to insult me. All the while, I kept my table between myself and him and myself between him and the door.
Ready to apply those mental X's to his target areas (at least, the ones I could reach without jumping), I was relieved to see him go sit in a chair in the corner. From there this bullet bearing former gang member and I agreed that it was fair for him to pay me for the work I'd already done rather than the whole session.
Although we both came away with some dignity intact (not to mention mutual good health), I had time to consider several other options; fighting; leaving and letting security come back for the gear; and charging the session to his room in full. All would operate in an if/then sequence and as "If he does/says this, then I'll do/say that."
I'm happy with the outcome but not happy that it happened.
April 30th, 1996
SIDEWALK DANCING
It was mid-afternoon on a Wednesday and I was walking uptown on Broadway, around 55th Street. I had on a heavy backpack and was carrying a bag full of videotapes in each hand. I was hurried and preoccupied when a big homeless-looking guy stepped into my path. He was overweight and tall, with a distant, dopey look in his eyes that made me think he was probably a little bit crazy.
I stepped to the right, he stepped to the right. I stepped to the left, he did the same. It was just one of those stupid sidewalk dances, until I stepped again, very clearly, to the right and he followed me again. I had a quick moment of thinking "yuck, this is weird, you don't want to be here." And then my Prepare skills took over.
In a loud, clear voice, I told him to stay still and I would go around him. He complied and I walked away. He followed me. I had to stop at a corner for a red light. He came up beside me, very close, and peered at me over my shoulder. "I don't want any trouble," I said. "You stay right there. I am going over to the other side of the curb."
There were people all around us, staring. I'm sure they thought I was over-reacting, but it worked. The guy stayed put and left me alone. Nothing bad happened, nothing at all. And I had a part in that. I think that's what verbal skills are all about.
c.1996 Emmy Laybourne
I WANT TO RIDE ALONE
As I was bicycling on a recent fall Sunday afternoon, I noticed in my rear-view mirror that another bicyclist, a boy about 16 years old, was coming toward me from behind. Since I figured he wanted to pass, I pulled over to the right so he could pass on the left. He actually passed me to my right by going onto the sidewalk, went ahead of me, and wound up behind me again. Real close. To give him the benefit of the doubt - maybe he was not aware that he was so close - I motioned and yelled out for him to pass. He laughed and remained on my tail.
I just wanted him to pass, so I stopped short. His bike plowed into the rear wheel of mine and he fell off his bike (I remained standing). He asked why I had stopped short. I responded by asking why he was riding my tail. He again started to laugh. I then began to wonder if I'd have to use any of my physical skills to protect myself.
I stated in no uncertain terms that I wanted him to pass. Now. Still laughing and not paying attention to where he was going (he was veering into traffic in an attempt to watch me), I watched him ride off until I could no longer see him. Since he was riding off in the same direction I was, I had to decide if I wanted to change my route. I decided not to change it - it's my right to ride wherever I choose. As I suspected, I saw him with two of his friends about a mile up the road. He pointed me out to them as I passed. For a brief moment, I thought I'd have more trouble, but the rest of my ride was uneventful.
© 1996 Helen Trencher
I TRUSTED MY INSTINCTS
Three days before I graduated from my Basics class some guy tried to take my wallet. I noticed that he had reached into my bag and I confronted him. He actually tried to convince me that I hadn't seen his hand in my handbag. I was able to remain calm and secure in myself and firmly told him he was lying and I wanted whatever he took from my bag back. He persisted. I did not back down and he gave me my wallet back. I was amazed. I was not prepared to fight for my property but I was willing to trust my instinct and get my property back. Before I took basics, I know I would have cowered and he could have easily made me believe that I was wrong. I've learned to value my instincts, feelings, and needs more. And that, for me, is better than any physical fight.
© 1996 Vannessa F.
MY BAG IS MINE
I was nine months pregnant, it was 2:00 p.m., and I was running to catch a bus. My arms were laden with packages; my only concern for the moment was catching that bus. As I approached the corner, I noticed a man intentionally placing himself directly in my path. As I tried to move to the left and then to the right of him, he moved with me. It became obvious he was after something.
The "something" he was after turned out to be my handbag. He grabbed it, probably assuming that I would let go easily. After all, I had an abundance of packages as well as not appearing to be too mobile. What he didn't assume was that I had taken a course in self-defense - PREPARE! My instinctive reaction was to aggressively confront the man. I screamed at him "watch it buddy, what the hell do you think you're doing?" I will never forget the look on his face. He was shocked. He backed off and put his hands up in front of himself as if to say, "hey, sorry lady." He quickly ran off. People surrounding me came over to see if I was okay and one woman said "that man tried to steal your bag." The entire time, my eyes followed him down the street. After going over the sequence of events in my mind, it was obvious that my Basics course had in fact prepared me mentally to react to a situation like this one. I surprised myself by not having to think about how to deal with the situation, it came to me instinctively. I realized I did something I was taught in class. I created a scene, thereby attracting attention. I looked my assailant right in the eye and confronted him - assertively. I did not even feel a moment of fear, I just dealt with the situation.
I can't help but wonder, had I not taken the Prepare course, would I have just given in to the physical vulnerability of being 9 months pregnant and allowed the man to steal my bag without any kind of struggle? My guess is that I would have been so shocked that I would not have known what to do, and this man would have gotten what he wanted. Thankfully, he did not get what he wanted. I want to thank Prepare for that - and for giving me the confidence and ability to handle this situation.
© 1996 Leslie Gerber - Seid
I FOUND MY OPENING
It was about 2 weeks after graduating from my BAMM Level II (Intro. to Multiple Assailants and Weapons in San Francisco). I was coming home to my apartment at around 10:30 p.m. I pulled into my driveway when I noticed someone was parked in my parking space. No big deal, I thought, I'll just park on the street. I looked around and there was no parking available, so I honked my horn hoping whoever was parked in my spot would come out and move their car. No one came out. I sat for a moment and decided that it must be a friend of my neighbor's who lives in the apartment behind mine. He has friends visiting him all the time. So I walked back down the driveway towards his apartment door with my keys in my hand. A motion detector light came on as I approached the back of the building. As I came into the light, I noticed two dark figures coming out of the bushes at the back of the building. At first, I thought it was my neighbor and a friend, but as they became more visible, I could see they were wearing ski masks and both were carrying guns. I stopped, and as I was taught in my BAMM classes, I went to zero. I felt my body completely collect itself as I put my hands out to show the assailants that I would cooperate. I kept thinking of my training and what I would do if they got close enough with their weapons. I was waiting for my opening. They told me to "Go in the house!" I told them in a clear, low voice that I did not live there. They told me again to "Go in the house!" They motioned me to go up the stairs to the door of my neighbor's apartment. I did as they told me. When we got to the door, they told me to "Knock on the door." I knocked on the door and my neighbor came to the door and looked out his window. He saw me standing there, and he started to open the door. As he did this, the guys started to rush into his apartment. Here was my opening, and my mind and body said "GO." Like my training taught me, I went with 100% commitment to stay alive. I ran past the muggers and down the stairs all the while remembering the statistics that I had learned at BAMM, i.e. that 90% of people who get shot live. And that most people, in an adrenalized state, can not shoot and hit a moving target. I ran, dodging back and forth, back around the building and back towards my apartment. I could hear the attackers running behind me. As soon as I got into my apartment, I spun around to see the men running past the building and down the street. I ran to my phone and dialed 911. I was safe! My neighbor had managed to slam the door on the assailants preventing them from entering the building. We both escaped the situation unharmed.
I am so glad that BAMM had taught me the importance of waiting for an opening and going with 100% commitment. I am not sure how I would have reacted to this situation before I took my BAMM classes, but I am positive that this training helped me to make the decisions I made that helped save my life.
© 1996 Pamela James, San Francisco graduate
MALL STALKER
I'm not sure how long he had been following me. I had tried on a few pairs of sunglasses, looked at handbags, and was now in the jewelry department on the first floor of Macy's at Bridgewater Commons, New Jersey. "They're all pretty nice, aren't they?" he said about the earring display I was admiring. I had just become aware that a man was standing near me, and thought, "he must be looking for a gift for his wife". "Yes, they are", I replied, without looking at him. "Do you wear earrings a lot?" was his next question. That was it for me! I stared hard at his wide, forty-something face, and firmly said, "No! I Don't!" Then I turned and walked away quickly into the shoe department. I realized after a few minutes that he was there too. At first he stayed on the perimeter, just watching me. But soon he was hovering much too close again. I walked over to a sales woman and asked about a pair of shoes. He disappeared, but was there again as soon as my conversation with her ended. "Okay", I thought, "I have to change the scenario here". I walked rapidly through the store and got on the escalator to the second floor. Half way up, I looked down and saw that, sure enough, he had followed me onto the escalator. "I guess I really have to handle this now", I said to myself. It occurred to me how easy it would be to just kick him down the moving stairs, but I knew that the solution was not that simple. At the top, I started walking straight down the main aisle. I could feel his presence coming up behind me. I decided to just turn and confront him. Being in a public, populated environment, where any type of commotion would be noticed and dealt with by personnel, I knew I had options. For example, I could just yell "The brown haired man in the turquoise velour shirt is following me," or "Back off; stop following me!" Just as I was about to do that, I became aware of a salesman helping a lady just up ahead and to my right. Without really thinking about it, I turned in their direction. I told them that the man behind me had been following me for the past fifteen minutes and to please call security. As the three of us turned to look at him, he hurriedly turned and actually ran back to the escalator. I never saw him again, but did speak to the security people and gave them a detailed description of my stalker.
© Joanne Mazzeo
CENTRAL PARK JOGGER
Today was a hot, sunny day, and Central Park was filled with people. At 1:30 p.m., I was jogging around the reservoir, feeling perfectly safe and listening to my walkman ("the Police," ironically). As I came upon a group of six big, tough-looking high-school girls, one said "I'm gonna get me a walkman!" and lunged at me.
Without even thinking about it, I quickly got in protective stance and pivoted so that all the girls were on one side of me. "Get away from me!" I told her, "Back off!" She just laughed at me and grabbed my right wrist. "What you gonna do? What you gonna do, bitch?" she asked me. Her grip was very strong, so I looked for an opening to extricate myself.
I considered doing an eye strike with my free hand, but if I hit her, five other girls would attack me, and there was no way I could outrun them. Then I saw a big guy jogging towards us and I yelled to him, "Help me! This girl is trying to steal my walkman!" I know it sounds silly now, but it clued him into what was happening. (He told me afterwards that at first he thought it was just some teenage girls having a fight.) The girl dropped my wrist when the jogger looked at her, and I turned and jogged on with him. A couple of the girls followed us for a few steps, but that was it.
YOU'RE COMING WITH ME
For about one year, there was a man who was always standing outside my office building when I'd arrive at work. It looked as if he was waiting for me but I just ignored him, telling myself it was silly to be scared since he never spoke to me or even approached me. Then one morning, he came up to me in the lobby of the building and asked to buy me a cup of coffee. When I declined his invitation he got angry and began to insist, saying things like, "Come with me. You have to talk to me." Though he was eventually escorted out by the building's security officers, the incident shook me up.
A week after the verbal attack, I heard that this man had gone to different floors in the building describing my appearance and asking for me by name, leaving only when threatened by security officers. I already had taken the 4-hour PREPARE WORKSHOP and thought that was all I'd ever need. But after ignoring my fear long enough, I decided I really needed to know how to protect myself in case this guy was crazy. He approached me again a few months later as I was getting out of a cab. I saw him step toward me but by this time I had taken the IMPACT Basics 20 hour training and I was ready. I put my hands up in the READY position and tried to step around him to get to the deli, but he grabbed my right arm very tight and tried to pull me with him. Instinctively, I yelled, "NO" in a voice that surprised me with its power. Then I did EYE STRIKES, a punch to his stomach with both fists and, when he leaned forward in pain, I repeatedly did KNEE to the HEAD until he lay still against a car.
I moved back and yelled ASSESS (a technique from Basics designed to refocus and complete the fight), my hands still in the protective stance, my eyes on him in case he moved, and then, when I was sure I was safe, I picked up my bags and went into the deli. It all happened so fast. I just responded to the situation and it wasn't until a woman approached me and asked, "What does this "ASSESS" mean that I realized how thoroughly IMPACT Basics had really PREPARE'D me!
P.S. That woman has since taken the introductory Get Prepare'd Workshop.
© L.Y.
SCARED BUT NOT PANICKED
I took the Prepare three (3) hour introductory self defense course at my health club. I loved the program and got a tremendous amount out of only one session. I utilized the skills that I learned in a life threatening situation just days later. I was walking through Central Park on my way to work at 9 a.m. I had consciously decided against using my Walkman because I wanted my awareness skills to be as strong as possible. This choice enabled me to hear the loud, clear scream of a man far away and directly approaching me at a very fast pace. The man appeared violent and out of control. Even though I was very scared in the moment, I DID NOT PANI© I used the new awareness and avoidance skills that I had just learned. I looked 360 degrees around me and determined which was the quickest path to the street and denser population. I was able to decisively steer myself away from the oncoming danger and what could have been a life/death confrontation. Prepare gave me this ability and my safety.
© Catherine Kirsch, 1996
Since I took the Basics course four years ago, I have often wondered whether the training would really help me if I were attacked and especially whether it would "wear off" after time passed without practice. I recently had an opportunity to find out, and I want to let everyone know how effective the BAMM (San Francisco's IMPACT chapter) training is in actual attacks. In early May, on a running trail at a park near my house, I was attacked by a rapist. He jumped on me from behind, using a grip around my throat and immediately started trying to get my shorts off.
It's difficult to describe how quickly the training kicked in. By the time my brain registered that I was being attacked, my body was already twisting to get out of the throat grip, falling, and bracing into kick position. I think I must have started yelling before he got me in the grip and - judging by my sore throat afterwards - continued yelling the whole time. Because I went to the ground while the attacker stayed standing, I was able to land some really good kicks. We fought for a few minutes ( I don't remember exactly how) before he decided he'd had enough. This was the only point where I did something I shouldn't have: as he ran off, I stood on the trail yelling at him - I was so enraged that I wanted him to come back and let me kick his butt for a while longer!
If this had happened before I had the training, I would have been paralyzed by fear and hopelessness. The attacker made it very clear that this would have been a very violent rape. As it was, I felt no fear at all. Instead, I was filled with so much rage that I became the aggressor. I think the assailant was totally shocked by this response; it scared the hell out of him.
Physically, I came out of it pretty well, with just bruises, scratches, and muscle pulls. I think I hurt him more than he hurt me. Mentally, I found that it was not a damaging or traumatic experience. It was unpleasant, naturally, and I've spent quite a bit of time thinking it over, but my strongest feeling about the whole thing is gratitude. I'm awed by the power I had in the situation and by the complete absence of doubt or fear. I want to thank everyone who is involved, and to remind you that what you are doing works, and what you are doing is worthwhile. I want you to know that because of your efforts, there is one more person in the world unhurt, unraped, and unafraid. Thank you.
© Lois Allen, 1998
CLOTHES AND SIZE ARE NOT DESTINY
Of course, this had to be the day that I would dress up for work. I usually dress casually, but for some reason, I had put a dress and heels on this morning. I was leaving the grocery store after work when it happened. I looked around as I left the store, groceries in my arms. I noticed someone off to the side, but thought nothing of it until I felt someone watching me. I turned to look again and realized it was him.
He had been away in the navy for the past two years and during that time the stalking and harassment had stopped. Prior to his "shipping out", I had pressed charges against him and had him thrown in jail for stalking and harassing me, and also had a restraining order placed on him. I turned quickly to go to my car and true to all the "damsel in distress" movies, I tripped and fell, scattering my groceries over the pavement. I got up (safely) and turned in his direction, determined to change the ending of this particular movie. I got into ready stance as he yelled, "You bitch, you had me thrown in jail!" I began using my verbal skills, "Don't come any closer. Get away from me." He was talking to me about how much he still loved me and how he was certain that I still loved him. This was when I knew he had really gone over the edge and there was no turning back. In my most directive tone I repeated, "Stop. Don't come any closer. Get away from me."
Did I mention that I am 5'2" and weigh 92 pounds and he is 6'4", weighing 250?
All this time I am thinking about what I am going to do if he gets any closer, what is my best opening shot. He stepped in to grab me and there it was, a beautiful opening to a heel palm to the face. I took my shot and landed squarely on his chin. His head flew back and my next shot was right there. I stepped in for a knee to the groin and connected. He collapsed to the ground, unconscious. I gathered my groceries. He wasn't going anywhere, and headed for my car. I drove straight to the police station and made a report to the police and to the navy.
Anonymous in Los Angeles, 1998
WHEN NO THANK YOU DOESN'T SINK IN
I was at a bar with some friends when a guy asked me to dance. I was not interested in dancing that night so I replied, "No thank you." He seemed a little irritated with me, but walked away.
About ten minutes later he came up to me and stuck a one dollar bill under the strap of my dress. He told me to "dance for him." I removed the dollar bill and told him that his actions were unacceptable and that he should leave "NOW!" I was annoyed that he thought his behavior was okay, but I continued to talk to my friends.
Another five minutes passed. He came back up to me and started to grind up against my body pretending to dance. I immediately took his wrists into my hands, placed them together, then returned them to his chest. I told him to "Stop and back off." He did neither. Since he was clearly not listening to me, I used an Advanced IMPACT dissuasion technique (it was not time yet to hit him in the head) and kicked him in the shin to get him to realize I really meant what I said. He was so shocked that all he could do was call me a bitch and walk away (with a slight limp).
There was no point staying to see if he would come back, so my friends and I left the bar. My IMPACT classes included many types of harassment scenarios similar to this one. Since I had evaluated my boundaries and reactions ahead of time in class, there was no need for regrets like, "I should have said or done this." Throughout the entire situation I never doubted my actions or that I was in control of the situation.
© Laura K. 1998
When I heard about the kids' BAT and STAR classes last June, I was very excited. As a devoted and enthusiastic fan of the women's program, I didn't hesitate for a second and signed up my two younger children. Since they had been present at my own graduation from the 20-hour Basics course, they couldn't wait! They (and all the other participants) enjoyed it immensely and had a very positive experience showing off their new skills to their amazed and delighted parents. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that my eleven-year-old son would really need to use his training, especially within the month.
He had finally decided that he was ready to spend the summer with his teenage brother at sleep away camp. He had visited the camp many times with us and we knew most of the staff, so we were perfectly comfortable that our younger boy would be well taken care of.
I still cringe at the memory of the terrible phone call my husband and I received several weeks later. It was Dr. T., the camp's owner/director saying, "I need to tell you that Chip has accused one of his counselors of molesting him." He told me, "Mike (age 21) waited until the other campers were asleep, then took off Chip's pants and fondled him. It's Mike's day off, and I won't be able to talk to him until he returns. I'll call you back as soon as I can." We waited nervously, all the while trying to convince ourselves that it couldn't be true. It had to be some sort of childish prank. We were certain that Chip didn't realize how much trouble he'd make for Mike by saying such a thing. (DENIAL!) We were shocked when Dr. T. called back. "Mike confessed. To comply with state law, I had to call the police. They have arrested Mike and I need to take Chip to the Police Barracks for questioning."
We rushed to meet them there and learned some astonishing facts from the police commissioner (by coincidence, an expert on sexual abuse of children).
1. More boys than girls are victims of sexual abuse.
2. Most kids don't tell (out of fear or embarrassment).
3. In the more than 1,500 cases that the commissioner himself had been involved in, not once had a child been proven to by lying!
4. It's impossible to rehabilitate pedophiles because they see children (like my skinny little immature boy!) as appropriate sexual partners. Adults don't turn to them on at all.
Chip was told repeatedly by the commissioner that he was not at fault, he did nothing wrong. (It is always the fault of the adult.) He was taken very seriously from the beginning and he was congratulated and treated as a HERO. There had been not one, but two occasions when Mike had touched him. During the second time, Chip had gathered up his courage and told Mike to stop. Mike did, but strongly threatened Chip and warned him not to tell anyone.
As often happens, it was not a stranger attacking the child, but an adult that he knew and trusted. Because of this, it took longer for Chip to react. Chip waited almost a week, until Mike's next day off, and told another adult. The commissioner explained tome that Chip's bravery had not only saved him but also the other boys, from repeated attacks, and that the attacks would probably have worsened to oral sex and/or rape as the summer progressed. Chip really was a hero.
Mike was convicted of a misdemeanor (if Chip had been ten instead of eleven, it would have been a felons), and spent some time in jail before being escorted to the airport and put on a plane bound for his home in England. The camp encouraged all the kids to tell if Mike had done anything to them and called all the parents so they could talk to their kids about it. No other child or parent has come forward with any further complaint.
I feel very strongly that Chip's training was a huge influence in his decision to put a stop t Mike's attacks and especially to turn him in. I'm sure the outcome would have been very different without BAT or STAR. I had cried in the police station that night, not so much because it had happened, but because chip had handled it so well.
So, what happened to Chip? This year, his grades were better than ever. His self-confidence has soared and he is maturing into a kind and thoughtful young man. And, that's right, he can't wait to get back to that camp this summer!
DO YOU WANT TO BE IN MY MOVIE?
I was at Borders studying for finals. This guy came and sat across from me at a separate table. I had been sitting there for about an hour now and I would constantly catch him staring at me. I gave him the "one eyebrowed" mean look for a while, until I had to go to the bathroom. The bathroom was down a little hall and around a corner. I totally had a weird feeling about this guy, so I was getting prepared for the worse case scenario. I walked out of the bathroom and he was standing right there "talking" on the phone. As soon as I walked past him, he aggressively grabbed my arm. I did that little block move to stop his grab and I unconsciously got right into stance. He started telling me about a movie he was making. He told me that I would be perfect for the role in his movie, that my personality was perfect for his movie. I firmly told him that I am not interested at all in being in his movie. He asked me for my phone number and my address so we could get together and plan this movie of his. I was not lenient with this guy; I set a boundary and told him to back away. When he eventually walked away, a man come up to me and complimented me on my verbal skills!!! (: Honestly, if this had happened a year ago I would have hesitated. I totally feel more confident setting boundaries now after taking that class. It has been one of the most effective things I have learned.
Thank you ~ Casey (high school student)
CLEARING THE AIR WITH THE MAGIC FORMULAI just wanted to share how IMPACT training worked this morning. Verbal skills, if you recall, were very challenging for me.
A colleague at work came to my cubicle and harshly (both verbally and with her body language) tore into me for responding to an e-mail without correctly comprehending the underlying situation. I apologized, but was really taken aback by her demeanor and felt she spoke with me in a manner inappropriate for the workplace.
I chewed on it for a few minutes. Then I went to visit her office down the hall. Using the "magic formula" in the Basics Workbook, I told her that it made me feel chastised when she spoke to me so harshly, and I suggested that her tone had been inappropriate for the situation and for our status as peers. I was polite and had shut her office door behind me before speaking.
Well, it's all cleared up! She was upset because of other very recent dealings with the co-recipients of the e-mail, admitted she took it out on me (because their position makes it impossible to speak to them that way), and apologized for approaching me the way she had. She also thanked me for coming to talk with her about it. We agreed that it made more sense to clear the air between us than for me to sit and stew, or perhaps even badmouth her to others--which would have just escalated the inappropriateness of what happened (and be an immature response on my part).
I know this doesn't have much to do with defending oneself from physical attack, but I knew right away that it had been IMPACT training that made me decide to take care of the situation immediately rather than keep feeling badly about it.
© Grace Lee 2002
"BACK UP" IS ALL IT TOOK
It's a typical late afternoon subway ride, at 3:30 on a Thursday. I get on the C train at 23rd on my way to Brooklyn to baby sit my niece Ana. The train was almost full of seated passengers and a handful of folks standing. A man comes onto the train with a large black canvas bag, and the telltale white cords of an iPod in his ears. He is directly across from where I am seated, near the train door he entered. He proceeds to rummage around in his bag vigorously, which seems to be filled with something large, wrapped in white plastic bags. A brief thought passes through my mind – the reminder to alert the MTA if you see any suspicious bags. He is occasionally mumbling something – he's not too loud but nothing he says makes sense so I get that it's not the words to the song. He briefly is quiet, then, suddenly, starts shouting much of the same, nonsensical stuff but now it sounds like a rant. The train stops and I bolt out of my seat and towards the next train car's open door. He was just too close, too loud, too strange, and now I really didn't like my initial thought about the way he was pawing through his bag.
The train doors remain open at the station. I am nearly at the door to the next train car, perhaps 6 feet away, pushing though slower-moving folks near the edge of the platform for the next train. I can hear him yelling, "She ran out of the train because of me!" Then, "Why did you run out of the train into the next car?" Then, he is running out of the other car and right behind me. I am hoping my feet are fleet and I will make it through the crowd and through the closing train door before he catches up. However, the doors are still being held, and I am about 3 steps into the car when I hear him, closer, still yelling to me. He makes it in right behind me. I wheel around right into ready position. Seriously, no thought, no conscious directing of my body into any stance. It felt like I looked over my shoulder, pivoted 180 degrees and got my hands up simultaneously and in less than a second. That all felt good, but I was not at all happy that he was yelling and that he ran after me.
In what feels like an out of body experience, combined with hyper-consciousness of the expression on his face, I have snapped into taking charge of the situation before he decides to do more than continue his rant directed at me. Out of my mouth, again without any conscious directing of my voice, are the words, "Stop. Back up." Gosh, it is just like what other graduates say when they tell their own success stories and describe just having the training flow right out of them automatically. In the moment I am so pleased my voice didn't catch or fail to work. Then, "Back up" over and over, perhaps a half a dozen times. He gradually seems to ease out of his aggressive demeanor into less tension and perhaps towards a decision not to persist with me. I am conscious of pausing between each iteration, and making sure my voice wasn't aggressive, just firm and directive. I am also very conscious of how quiet the train is and how much I'd like to turn around to look at people's faces, just out of curiosity. My left hand is clutching the strap of my handbag and a small brown paper bag with some fabric. I fleetingly consider dropping my packages, then think "I won't have to drop my bags to fight." The train doors are still open, and his attention is moving towards the open door. He can still exit. He finally says, "And so I will."
Just as he says this the first time, a woman almost at the other end of the car starts yelling at him to leave me alone. I think to myself, "SHUT UP!" you are not helping, you are just trying to feel good about doing something though you are sitting perhaps 25 feet away, or maybe you just want to run your mouth off and let everyone know you're a tough gal. I do shoot her a look, hoping she knows I want her to be quiet. It's just like Advanced Basics when we create a subway car and have assistants playing the roles of sometimes helpful, sometimes indifferent and sometimes aggressive passengers. Fortunately, he doesn't respond to her and gets off the train, crosses the platform and gets on the A train which just pulled in.
I find a seat and sit down. Not a single person says a word. No one asks if I am OK. I am trying to figure out how adrenalized I am as I open the zipper of my handbag to pull out the magazine I wanted to read. Three panhandlers are working this train, asking for money. A woman in her 20's next to me offers the one right in front of us her white Styrofoam container of food. He declines and repeats his request for money, even pennies. She pulls a banana out and offers that to him, asking him "Are you hungry, do you need money for food?" He hasn't taken any of the food, and is still there, repeating his request for money instead. She says, "Have a blessed day." He finally moves on. Oh my gosh, that's just like class too. There was no threat, just persistence. She acknowledged his humanity and he just kept going. What a train ride. I'm not even at West 4th Street yet.
© 2005 Karen Chasen, VP Prepare Inc.
[Story List]
TRICK OR TREAT
I was walking in my town with my friend and we had just finished trick or treating. My mom was on her way to pick us up and it was only about 9:30. I saw an older man coming down the sidewalk and I didn't think anything of it. My friend was walking in front of me and the minute he passed her he grabbed me around the waist. I screamed "GET OFF" and gave him a knee to the groin. He then let go of me and ran about a block before turning around and looking at us while walking away. I called my mom and she got us about two minutes later because she was already on her way. I never thought that anything like that would have happened to me, especially in an environment that I thought was completely safe. Prepare really helped me out in this situation and I encourage it to be taught in classes at high schools and middle schools all over the country.
-Anonymous
The author of this story took an IMPACT Basics class as a high school student in Los Angeles at the Marymount School in 2000.
While out of the country on a work assignment, I was walking down the street accompanied by two male friends. A person in the passenger seat of a moving car reached out the car window and grabbed the strap of my shoulder bag. My friends were standing right there when it happened, and had no way to help me as the car pulled up by surprise and it all happened so quickly. When the man pulled on my bag, I got caught in the straps of it and pinned against the car. I was dragged by the car for a ways, my feet getting badly scraped up.
I tried to get untangled from the bag, but could not. Once I realized I couldn’t detach myself, I pulled myself up onto the outside of the car and talked my way out of the situation. I realized how scared he was, but I personally was completely calm. I kept telling him, “Throw the bag outside the car, because I can’t get off the car until you do.” He kept saying, “Let go of the bag.” I couldn’t – the bag was inside the car window. The car was speeding up and slowing down over and over while he was trying to figure out what he was going to do. I was talking, using de-escalating verbal strategies, thinking clearly, and breathing. In a way, I felt I was in more control of the situation than he was. He had only planned on grabbing a bag and not hurting me; not on having a woman attached to his car getting hurt and preventing him from pulling away quickly. Eventually, he threw the bag out the window and I fell off the car and rolled to the sidewalk.
I took this course in high school, and even though it had been over 6 years ago, I know the IMPACT class helped me get out of the incident alive. The skills I used -- specifically thinking and staying calm while scared, talking to him and assessing him –were what enabled me to say the things that got him to comply and saved me from more serious injury.
© Danielle 2006
I enrolled in a Basics class after having been assaulted by a delivery guy in my old apartment. After my boyfriend and I split up, I moved into my own studio apartment in a doorman building so that all of my deliveries would be made downstairs.
One evening I came home and the elevator I was in (there are 2) stopped on the 3rd floor. I heard the other elevator open as well. Mine was on the way up and the other I presume must've been signaling to go down. A delivery guy (with nothing to deliver; he must have just dropped whatever he had off) got into my elevator. I told him I was going up but he got in and pressed lobby anyway. He said he didn't speak English so I told him in Spanish. But it didn't make a difference. The elevator continued until it stopped on my floor.
I got off the elevator with a horrible and familiar feeling in my stomach. I turned and noticed the elevator door was still open. That was odd as these doors wait for no one. So I decided to make a little noise with my keys and I noticed the man stuck his head out. Shaking and reminding myself to breathe I made more noise again. Again his head and part of his body popped out of the elevator. I realized that I would not be able to reach my door, unlock it and enter faster than he could catch up to me at my doorway. So I walked over to the elevator and in Spanish said, "I thought you were going down." Immediately the elevator door shut and left. I raced into my apartment. I locked all the locks and called the doorman to make sure the man had left.
Before graduating I might have tried to convince myself that I was being paranoid - that this man had no intention of hurting me. But after my first assault experience and my IMPACT training I now trust that if I feel worried there's probably a just cause and even if there isn't it's OK to feel scared and act on it; even if I'm wrong. A day later I spoke with a good friend who is also an IMPACT graduate. She told me that she was proud of me and that I did the right thing. And I thought wow--I'm glad I know this stuff. I was prepared to physically fight if I needed to. I’m just glad my instincts and verbal strategies worked so effectively.
© Maria Coder
The hardest part of Basics for me was finding my voice. My physical fighting is strong, but so often I administer my blows without a sound. The verbal confrontations were the worst. My voice quivered and I'd plead with little conviction to be left alone. I had the opportunity to change this.
I was staying at a Bed & Breakfast run by a husband and wife team. The husband was a certified massage therapist and advertised this as one of the features of their inn. Their guest book had many entries about how wonderful the massages were. So, I booked one. The massage table was set up in the master bedroom (I thought for a moment that it was strange but dismissed it since the B&B was run out of their house). He came in drinking a beer. Again, I paused and again I dismissed it to being a bit looser because it was in their home.
Before I undressed I asked for a sheet to cover myself (typically one is provided without asking). When he returned I was lying on my stomach and was covered. He removed the sheet completely. I knew this was atypical and asked him to uncover only the area he was working on. He told me I was "an uptight New Yorker" and "needed to relax". I said, "Yes, that's why I'm here." This happened several times, each time he tried to convince me that I was wrong and that I needed to relax, and each time I told him I was not comfortable and needed for him to respect my wishes. Finally I asked him to leave so I could dress and return to my room. He acted "hurt" and said that he had never met anyone so modest and attributed it to me being from the east. I told him that it had nothing to do with where I'm from and that I thought his technique was inappropriate and not within the guidelines of a massage. He silently left the room. I checked out first thing.
I am certain that if this happened to me before I took Basics I would not have said anything and silently suffered through. I would have believed him that I was uptight and needed to be more open. I am also certain that if this happened today, (having completing the Advanced class) I would have spoken up the minute I saw the beer in his hand.
Anonymous
I have been a legal secretary for over 20 years and have worked easily with many different attorneys until my small-town firm hired a new big-city attorney. I left every interaction with this man feeling put down and stupid. I found myself being more and more rude to him every time I encountered him. As I spoke to the other women in the office, we realized that he was rude and condescending to all of us. Talking to the bosses did not help.
When I talked to my sister about it she said to me "Remember what you learned in your IMPACT class? Why don't you try that?" We went over some of the verbal concepts together (be direct, don't insult him or escalate, tell him what I want, don't back down, etc.) and I went to work the next day armed with renewed confidence.
As Steve (not his real name) approached me, I took a deep breath, readying myself. As usual, he began with a condescending and accusatory tone. I put my hand up and said, "Stop. Please do not speak to me in that tone." He stopped and looked at me a bit puzzled and then continued, "Oh, um, well, I just wanted to thank you for doing such a good job." I said, "Thank you, I appreciate it." When I told my sister how well it worked she suggested that I make a pact with all the women in the office to do the same boundary setting with Steve. They all agreed.
The next day Steve came up to my desk growling my name. I looked up and raised my eyebrow (a special family skill) and he stopped dead in his tracks. He took a deep breath and spoke to me in a normal tone of voice. Inside I did the dance of joy! Then he began to argue with me on a point about which I knew I was correct, he slipped back into his "you are so stupid" mode and I immediately said "Stop. I am not stupid Steve, I have all of the information right here." He actually apologized! As he turned to leave I told him that we did not have to have an altercation every time we had to interact, all we had to do was treat each other with respect and things would go very smoothly.
Later that day one of the other secretaries came to my desk and said "Ro, it worked!" and went on to explain what happened: Steve approached her with the same condescension and she put her hand up and said "Stop. If you want to talk to me, you have to change your tone.”
Well, let me just say that our office is a different place today and will keep getting better as more of us learn to set boundaries with others and demand that we get treated with the respect that we deserve!
Thanks, IMPACT!
© Rosanne Overton
I was riding the PATH train by myself on a Sunday afternoon. Just before the doors closed a group of about 8 teenagers got on the almost empty train. They made their presence known by being loud and taking up a lot of seats. I was immediately alert and kept my eyes on them. Some of the girls were chewing on chop sticks and I wondered if they were weapons, but hoped they were left over from lunch. The "leader", the biggest of the group, said to a man sitting across from me that he liked his gold chain. He asked the man if he could try it on. To my astonishment the man gave it to him without a word. The rest of the group started yelling, saying, "don't do it, don't be crazy", one girl turned to me and said "look at me, look at my face, when the police ask who did it, you remember it wasn't me."
I got up from my seat, and stood near the door, praying for the next station to come soon. Suddenly the lights in the train went out. I moved from where I was standing so I couldn't be tracked by where I was last seen. More yelling and screaming from the group; I wasn't sure what they were yelling about but I was in ready position for whatever happened next. After about 15 seconds of darkness (that felt like 15 minutes) the train pulled into the station. I ran off the train and out of the station as fast as I could.
I was pleased with my reactions. As soon as I had the "uh oh" feeling, I was aware of who was around me, where they were and the safest position for me to be in; all things I learned in Basics.
© Nicole Alley
ADRENALINE STATE TRAINING QUITE POSSIBLY SAVED MY LIFE
In early December of 2001, I was involved in a major car accident on a deserted highway near Death Valley, California. My friend was driving and lost control of the car, causing us to swerve off the road and roll four times before coming to a stop several hundred feet down the highway.
As I first realized that we were going to crash my heart started pounding, and instead of panicking, everything became very clear. I was completely conscious of what was happening throughout the entire crash. As soon as we landed, I found myself doing a new version of "look" and "assess". I mentally went through a checklist: was everyone alive? Yes. Were we in any immediate danger? No. Where was the cell phone? I was able to remain calm and tell the 911 dispatcher where we were, that we had a baby in the car, and what had happened. He told me to calm down, and I had to tell him that the screaming he heard was from my friend, and not me.
While my friend was screaming, her baby was crying, and the couple that had stopped to help looked like deer caught in the headlights, I was able to act. I have no doubt that the fights in class and the practice of functioning in the adrenal state enabled me to stay focused and not go into shock, as I helped my friend and her baby out through the windshield, and later answered the paramedics' questions.
Since taking the Basics class (at the time of the accident, I was about two-thirds of the way through the Weapons course), I've hoped that I would never need to use the physical skills to defend myself against some attacker. I never imagined that what I learned in class would be a factor in a situation like this. When I think back on the accident, I realize that I had been in a 'fight' - to get everyone to the help that we needed.
Fortunately, everyone from the accident will recover fully, and I feel that I have the IMPACT program to thank for that.
Anonymous
DO YOU WANT TO BE IN MY MOVIE?
I was at Borders studying for finals. This guy came and sat across from me at a separate table. I had been sitting there for about an hour now and I would constantly catch him staring at me. I gave him the "one eyebrowed" mean look for a while, until I had to go to the bathroom. The bathroom was down a little hall and around a corner. I totally had a weird feeling about this guy, so I was getting prepared for the worse case scenario. I walked out of the bathroom and he was standing right there "talking" on the phone. As soon as I walked past him, he aggressively grabbed my arm. I did that little block move to stop his grab and I unconsciously got right into stance. He started telling me about a movie he was making. He told me that I would be perfect for the role in his movie, that my personality was perfect for his movie. I firmly told him that I am not interested at all in being in his movie. He asked me for my phone number and my address so we could get together and plan this movie of his. I was not lenient with this guy; I set a boundary and told him to back away. When he eventually walked away, a man come up to me and complimented me on my verbal skills!!! (: Honestly, if this had happened a year ago I would have hesitated. I totally feel more confident setting boundaries now after taking that class. It has been one of the most effective things I have learned. Thank you ~
Casey (high school student)
Just wanted to pass on what I feel, as a parent, is a great Prepare success story. Our 7-year old, Ara, took your course; your instructors were superb.
We live in a cul-de-sac consisting of 6 homes. One home has had extensive renovations over the last 3 years, many workers coming and going. There is a ‘lead carpenter’ who always seems ‘friendly’ with the kids, and one day he offered to take the kids for a ride in his van.
Out of the 8 kids who were offered a ride in the windowless, tool-filled van, only Ara and an eighth-grade girl had the sense to say, “NO THANK YOU”. Ara was safe in our playroom when I saw all these kids coming out of the back of the van (we live on top of a hill, so I have a bird’s eye view of the street). Ara said, “Mom, I didn’t take a ride from Mr.X. All the other kids got in, but I didn’t. He doesn’t have seatbelts, and I don’t take rides from people except you, Daddy, and Mrs. B (a classmate’s mother).”
This was such a big deal because the other 6 kids were Ara’s BEST FRIENDS. I can’t imagine the peer pressure. We instruct our kids not to get into cars with people they don’t know, and hope they don’t. This was a great example of not getting into the car of an ‘acquaintance’ – he learned from PrePare it wasn’t appropriate and he learned it was OK to say NO THANK YOU.
Funny thing, most of the other mothers didn’t think it was a big deal. My husband and I don’t believe they realize how inappropriate the offer [for a thrill ride] was. Even if nothing untoward happened to the children, it breaks down their resistance to such offers. Training such as yours, and encouragement, such as ours, must start at an early age and be continuously reinforced.
Finally, we lavishly praised Ara for his appropriate response – I immediately had him call Daddy at work and ‘tell his story’, then we called Grandma and Grandpa to ‘tell his story’. His visceral response is now concrete – great timing as we just had a Level 3 Sex Offender move into the neighborhood over the summer…….
© Rene
This next story was passed on to us by a program organizer who offered a 6 hour Prepare children’s training at her facility, written by the mother of a 7 year old girl who attended the program.
I have to tell you a funny thing that happened two days ago… My G. (she took the personal safety training workshop) was huffing, puffing and calling out “directives” in her sleep. I was awakened by her restlessness and went to her bedroom. As I entered her room, she began to awaken. When I asked her about the noises I had heard, she said that she was having a bad dream in which “some man was trying to steal her away from us.” When seeing my concerned look, she said, “Oh! Don’t worry Mommy, he didn’t get me because I remembered my moves from the class I took.”
Anonymous
In the 7th grade we took IMPACT and we learned how to defend ourselves against predators. Last year while walking home from school, these guys approached me and I was really scared. They were making lewd comments and they were coming closer to me. I backed up and told them to leave me alone. I never thought that something like this would ever happen to me. One of the guys grabbed my arm, so I used one of the moves I learned in 7th grade to release his hold on my arm. I then kneed him in the groin and he fell to the ground. I ran away after that but I could hear his friends laughing at him, they didn’t follow me because they knew that I could handle myself and wasn’t helpless.
© Chelsie, 11th grade
It was a Saturday night around 8:45pm. My friend Justine and I and her parents were at the movies. Justine and I went into a movie and her parents into another. The only condition to Justine and I having this responsibility of being 6th grade girls, on our own for two hours, was we HAD to sit on a specific bench outside the theater and wait for her parents. Her parents’ movie let out a half hour after ours so we both had to be very aware and alert for anything suspicious. We were both totally calm about any weird things that could happen (after learning numerous techniques from Prepare Inc.).
After 15 minutes of waiting a man started to yell to Justine "Hey you, miss! " Justine turned to me in fright. I mumbled to her, "Is he talking to you?"
Justine turned around, "No", she laughed.
He came over, "Can you two beautiful girls help me find my daughter Jennifer? She's in that theater over there," he pointed.
"Sorry," said Justine.
"What you two chicks ain’t speakin' no English?" We didn't answer.
"God damn it you girls ain’t know'n nothin!" We turned to each other in fright.
There was no way we were following him into a theater that was now empty.
I knew deep deep down that no father in the whole world would ever come up to two kids sitting alone. Didn't he have any common sense? Why couldn't he go into the movie theater himself? Why would he yell at us if he really wanted our help?
Then at that minute I felt inside that this was the kind of scenario where the techniques we learned could come in handy. So, Justine and I looked around and noticed a security guard very nearby. We paid careful attention to how far away the man was and knew we could take just a few steps to the guard if we needed to. He finally just left us alone.
© Bryce Diamond, 2003
“As a past assistant and avid fan of yours and the work you’re doing I’m adding my name to your long list of success stories.
Tuesday night starting at 12 midnight, I fell asleep on the couch with my head facing the front windows in the sunroom. Due to my lack of sleep issues, Martin covered me up, turned off the lights and television and went downstairs. Around 12:15 I stirred to muffled noises at the windows, thinking it was Martin, I momentarily fell back into sleep. When the noises continued, I woke up looking into the eyes of a black male upside down with hands on the floor and feet still outside the window.
I screamed, “Get the f..k out of here.” I instantly leapt off the couch to create some distance between us and made my directive language complete with a strong stance and pointing fingers in the direction I wanted him to leave. I continued screaming “Help” and “Call the police” as I made my way through the house to the telephone and dialed 911. Phone in hand and 911 operator on the line, I went back to the open window and continued yelling “call the police” hoping to get neighborhood attention. I saw the garbage cans stacked up in front of the window, taken out of the storage rooms they’re stored in. I also saw the burglar casually walking up the street as I gave his description to the 911 operator.
Within minutes, a patrol car pulled in front of the house to take Martin and I three blocks where four other officers detained a man fitting my description.
The detectives came back to my house to take finger prints and record any additional evidence, which helped me clarify more information about what happened.
I’d like to say it all ended there; however, my reasoning mind is trying to make a perfectly clear picture out of waking up to an upside down stranger in my dark house. The part of the experience I am certain about is that the training given to me at Prepare made the really important instinctual actions so automatic that even out of sleep I gained the upper hand of surprising the burglar more than he surprised me. I created space, I gave directions, I made a loud presence, I called 911, I assessed the evidence and my safety, and I tried to get others to pay attention and help me.”
© Audrey Supple, June 2006
Ever since I was a kid, I had been taught from day one that strangers were not to be trusted, which is what made it so confusing when the man who attacked me turned out to be one of my best friends. I was always a fairly computer-savvy child, and when I turned 10, I found that computers could now be used for communication. I became a member of various Bulletin Board Systems (or "boards," as they're commonly known; think AOL, only with about 14 phone lines, local, text-based, and mostly used by people from ages 14-21), but my absolute favorite was Cyberia. The guy who ran the board, Mark, was a charming, funny, extremely intelligent (former Mensa) guy who took a liking to the somewhat-sophisticated-for-her-age current Mensa 10-year-old that I was back then, and online we became pretty good buddies.
After about the first five months of my being a member, we decided to hold "usermeets," where all the members of the board chose a spot and met there. Mark, who I found out there was 39, was only about 5'8" and pretty non-threatening. Since both of us were outliers of the average age group, we got thrown together a lot, and as a result, he became one of my best friends, helping me with projects due at the last minute, giving me gifts on all sorts of occasions, and in return I would help him out with board maintenance, and we just got along swimmingly.
After about 3 years of usermeets, my parents decided I was old enough to go on my own (needless to say, with all the hype back then about child molesters on the newly-popular internet, they were extra vigilant and made sure to get to know every single member; Mark, over three years, had not proven himself a danger). That was when Mark started to take advantage of his position as friend, teacher, and authority figure. It started off with jokes and sexual innuendo, and over the next two years progressed to repeated molestation. I was absolutely terrified. This man, my confidant, my biggest supporter, my playmate, was now putting me in a position of humiliation and pain, and all the guilt and shame and disgust and self-loathing I felt due to the ghastly and secret nature of the relationship nearly brought me to a very timely and tragic end.
Had it not been for the fact that self-defense happened to fit into my schedule as my PE class that year in 9th grade. (God bless Marlborough for being enlightened enough to offer IMPACT!) As I took the class, I began to realize that all the truths of the issue had been obscured by this man who for so long seemed to have nothing but the best intentions. I slowly began to be reminded that no matter how nice he was, no matter how many nice things he had done, I owed him nothing, especially not my body, and as the adult, it was his responsibility not to get involved in the first place; the same applied for strangers as it did for close acquaintances, despite the difficulty I may have had relieving myself of the latter.
While I was still too heavily involved in the matter at the time, and as I was only 13/14 years old, I didn't have the courage to confront him; instead, the thing that literally saved my life was the first rule of IMPACT: "Don't be there." So I simply stopped making myself available for him; stopped logging on to the board; stopped going to usermeets; stopped returning e-mail; and pretty quickly, the communication ended.
I have recently, now at 16-years-old, gotten involved in a lawsuit with Mark, and the coward confessed to everything he had done, as well as confessing to other smaller inappropriate dealings with young females. And while he is headed to either a life of "Mark the registered sex offender" or to jail, I am headed toward a bright future at college with my new position as IMPACT Assistant, and I never could have made it this far had it not been for the empowerment and encouragement I received from my IMPACT training.
© Julia 2000
While I was at a party in an apartment in Brooklyn, an angry neighbor forced his way in to complain out the noise. Armed with a hammer and a large carving knife, the neighbor confronted the owner of the apartment. The owner immediately attempted to deescalate and agreed to lower the music if the neighbor would calm down. Unfortunately, several of the party-goers were intoxicated and were escalating the situation by shouting their annoyance at the neighbor. As the arguing became heated, the neighbor pointed the knife at the owner. At that point I tried to deescalate but the neighbor was too focused on the other escalating voices. As attempts to deescalate the situation failed, I weighed my options and decided to act. The neighbor kept pointing and gesturing at people with the carving knife. Every time he shouted at someone, he inched closer. I felt like I couldn't stand by and watch him stab someone. I waited until he was distracted, and with my IMPACT instructor's voice in my head, I moved in, took control of the weapon hand and applied the wrist flex. The neighbor went down, dropping his weapons. I put my weight on him and held him down until the police arrived. I was amazed that after several years, my muscle memory kicked in immediately, allowing me to react appropriately without over- or under- responding.
© Dave Ayala
Documented October 09, from an incident a year ago.
It was one of those long winter days: when mid-semester work piles up and overwhelms at school, when early morning sports practices run you out of energy even before academic demands of the day begin, when after-school appointments and meetings keep you busy until dark, which falls early this late in January.
So, with this day behind me and merely two blocks from my apartment, I am looking forward to relaxing for a short while before delving into my homework. Making a left onto my street, I almost sighing with relief that I can see my building canopy—rest is near. I watch the gray pavement move quickly under my New York City-style strides and hear another set of impatient, hasty steps behind mine, so out of respect for this presumably home-bound, tired citizen, I move a step or two to the left to allow him or her to pass by. But no one passes me, and I only hear more steps shifting and hastening. This feeling develops in the pit of my stomach and floods the rest of my body; it is only as I almost double my pace that I recognize it as the top level uh-oh feeling that had only before been simulated in Prepare classes. I move even faster now, and I notice my shadow against the cement bouncing the way a jogger’s shadow might, and I quickly notice another figure’s tall, looming shadow right behind mine, swinging its arms and making speed up the street. I whirl my head around, checking the block as I power-walk, frantically searching for another person on my small, residential street. I feel my breath quicken with anxiety, and zero in my canopy, focusing on it, willing my legs to take me faster to it as the steps belonging to my follower grow alarmingly quick and heavy. I’m already at where the red-brick of my building begins, which means I am about 15 feet from my front door. But 15 feet is still a whole 15 feet.
And suddenly it all happened. I find myself quickly calculating that breaking into a run from my current walking pace would take about 2 preparatory leap-steps, and somehow, in the exact moment I’m making these calculations, I am executing the step. I’m about break into that run when I feel the presence of my follower directly behind me. I know I no longer have time to run. This is time to fight. I bend my knees with my next step and bring my arms in and up to my chest, ready to swing them back and do the slap-grab-pull of the from-behind choreography. I feel him close to my body, almost at my waist, and I plant my feet, centering my weight and opening my mouth, reading to yelp, “NO! I’ve been grabbed!” when suddenly a flash of light shoots up from under my skirt. I’m momentarily blinded and shocked, and I feel the arm pull back and slightly brush against my inner thigh and butt. For a slip second I’m paralyzed, I’m gaping for words, for air, but just as quickly as I lost my voice, it came back, booming. I’m shouting at the top of my lungs, “Help! There is a pervert! He took a picture up my skirt! PERVERT! Everybody LOOK!” My shouts drove him to the middle of the street, and he took three or four confused, hesitant steps in different directions. The idiot was standing right under the street light, unsure of where to go, trying to hide from my voice and the eyes of the waiters from the restaurant across the street enjoying a smoke outside. The harsh orange light from the street lamp showed my follower to be an old man in a frumpy trench coat carrying a shopping bag. I am observing all of this, still yelling, and I take three huge leaps to my front door. I fling the door open, still facing the man in the middle of the street, still yelling. My doorman, who had been at the elevator talking to a tenant, immediately came rushing through the lobby towards me, asking in a raised voice, “You were what? He did what? Oh my GOD!” In one fell swoop, my doorman looks at me, follows my pointing hand to that creepy guy still wandering in the middle of the street, and races after him, adding to my noise by shouting, “You, get back here!” I step into the lobby, oddly aware of all parts of my body: my shaky legs and arms, my flushed face, my heart beating rapidly out of my chest and up into my throat.
The next few hours run together in my mind. I had a pow-wow in the lobby with the other resident and the superintendant. Soon after my doorman came back and told me he had recognized the guy as a delivery person for a local pharmacy. I was on an adrenaline rush, talking loudly and quickly, laughing every other breath, and gesticulating wildly. I went upstairs, and my mom came home about 10 minutes later. I was already on the phone with my best friend, unloading the play-by-play onto his attentive ears. As I spoke through it, the clarity of my memory shocked me, as did the precision and quickness of my own actions. We hung up, and I told my mom the specifics; Felix the doorman had already filled her in on part of the story. My whole chest and body seemed the shake, but my words were clear and steady. My mother kept asking if I was okay, but I told her I was more stressed out about telling my dad than anything. He lives with his girlfriend, so I probably wouldn’t see him that night, but I didn’t want to worry him over the phone. After a few deep breaths, my mom made me call him, but I left out some of the details to spare his blood pressure rate. He wanted to know why the police hadn’t come already, and he said he was on his way over. We had already called the local precinct, and sure enough, minutes later two kind officers were in my dining room, taking my story. They wrote furiously and filled out their reports and asked all sorts of questions—how tall was he, how old was he, had I seen him before, could I recognize him again if I saw him. They asked me if I was okay, and then they said a detective would be calling me, and then they left. Just like that. My dad came over and hugged me so tight I actually could not breathe. He later told my sister that he had hugged my doorman, too, when he came in. My dad’s not a big hugger.
I got up and went to school the next day. I thought I was handling the whole situation: I confided in my supervisor, who said that if I needed a break I could sit in his office and skip some classes, but I stayed focused and alert through the whole day. After school my basketball team had a game against St. Ann’s. And then suddenly it all happened again. As I ran down the court, dribbling the ball, everything around me slowed down, each noise was muted out except for the thud of the ball hitting the floor again and again. I watched the orange basketball bounce and my vision whirled back to less than 24 hours ago when I saw my shadow bouncing down the street. I stopped bouncing the ball and passed to a teammate, and cut away through a few defenders. I suddenly saw what the scene of that creepy man sticking a camera under my crotch would look like from the side. I lost my breath and got it back. Re-cut on the court and couldn’t get open for the ball. We fell back to defense, my mind whizzed back and forth, all noises were either intensified or nonexistent. There was a time out. I kept feeling his hand near my leg, seeing the flash under my skirt, feeling him standing so close behind me. I was nodding in agreement to a new defense. I played hard, shaking my head to get the memory out. I saw the fake shrub my building has on either sides of the front door for decoration, the same one my eyes had focused right before the flash went off. I couldn’t see my teammates open on the court. Every timeout I bent down as if to stretch my legs, but I was really creating a quiet space to talk to myself. Keep focused. Its okay. Basketball now. The Incident later. It’s a game. You got it. Relax. Basketball. Basketball. Somehow it worked. I got refocused, my defense got fierce, and we won.
On the bus back, I sat down next to my coach and among my teammates. We passed out some celebratory snacks, and just as I opened my mouth to eat a Twizzler, I began to cry. Shaking and sobbing, apologizing for my poor play. Everyone seemed confused; I had gotten back my passing and lead the defensive revival. But no, but no, it was so bad, I said. I found myself choking out my story from the evening before, and my teammates hugged me and talked to me and calmed me down. They were the quintessential support group.
For the next practice or two, particularly during wall taps, fierce flashbacks overcame me. Somehow the whole team was wired into my mind and knew when they were happening, because each time I felt one coming on, a friend would make eye contact, smile, wink, or something, and pull me back.
I had a meeting with my school’s Head of Security, an ex-NYPD detective. Everyday when I came to school, he’d greet me, ask me if I needed anything. He volunteered to drive me down to the police station if I needed to go right after school; he said his office was also an available hideout if I wanted it.
A game of phone-tag with the detectives assigned to my case ensued. I always got very nervous when I had to call them back; I think I was always reminded of the severity of the incident when I heard one of them answer the phone as “NYPD Detective X of the 19th Precinct.” Eventually we connected, and they questioned me over the phone. The next day, at around 8 p.m., one detective called me to ask if I could do a line up. Tonight. My dad and I left my apartment building about 15 minutes later and saw Felix standing next to a huge police van. Felix told us to wait, and a man got out of the van and introduced himself to us as one of the two detectives on the case. He was giving Felix a ride to the station, and would we like to join. He expressed his outrage that such an event happened to me, and my dad said he hadn’t been so scared for me since I was three and bumping my head on the edge of tables, and the detective was one of the scariest moments of his life, the detective told us he has a teenager daughter in college that he worries about all the time, especially because he’s always on the job and sees so many terrible things. Standing in that all-too familiar spot, right under the A-line apartment windows 15 feet away from my building’s front door, this NYPD detective turned to me and said, “Off the record, you did exactly, exactly what you were supposed to do.” With a nod and a pat on my shoulder, he escorted me into the van and drove us all down to the precinct.
© Emily Coch 2009, 10th grade student