BAM, I’m in the air. Establish a base, head butt, elbow to the face, elbow to the groin, shin scrape, foot stomp — I’m free.
SMACK, I’m pinned to the floor. Ten elbows to the face, groin and stomach later, I roll my body out from underneath my assailant. I’m on my feet.
I’m halfway to the door, and BAM, there’s another one. Two front kicks to the groin, three knees to the groin, straight punch to the face, again — I’m running.
This was the final phase of my RAD class. RAD — rape aggression defense — is a free self-defense class offered at UF for women, and you should take it.
In Florida, rape occurs every hour and 38 minutes. And there’s a 72 percent chance that it occurred at the hands of someone that woman knew — someone she trusted.
Everything is OK until it isn’t.
My own story goes like this: I was sitting off to the side, watching my friends recover from the various shots of alcohol they’d previously downed during our bout of Ring of Fire. I had kept it fairly light. I paced myself. Some of my friends, on the other hand, hadn’t.
When I started toward the bathroom door, I felt a tug. It was one of my guy friends, and he had grabbed ahold of me.
I chuckled nervously and attempted to break his grip, but he held tighter, pulling me toward him. He had consumed quite a few drinks, much more than I. His eyes were cloudy, far away. He didn’t seem to notice my discomfort.
This friend, whom I had known since ninth grade and now weighed well over 200 pounds at six feet, five inches, wasn’t my friend all of a sudden.
Everything else is blurry. I remember yanking myself forward, hard, out of his grip. I remember him curling his hand around his drink again, putting his back to me. I remember everyone in the room had noticed nothing as I sprinted to sit beside my best friend, shocked and thankful all at once for the crowd of people in the room.
I was lucky I was with a group that night. I had thought that guy was a friend, someone I could trust. I don’t think he knew what he was doing, nor do I think he has any recollection of the incident. All I know is people can change in an instant, and you have to be ready for it.
As women, we are taught we are not as strong as most men — as tough as most men — and that we don’t have a fighting chance against a 200-pound, six-foot-five-inch guy. I disagree.
If RAD has taught me one thing, it’s that I have a hell of a fighting chance. I now know I can hold my own in any situation. I know how to deliver a devastating punch. I know how to render a man unconscious. I know how to break free from a chokehold. I know how to stay alive.
I no longer have to rely on third parties to protect me. I am my own source of protection.
RAD teaches you practical defense moves from mild to extreme situations so you can tackle everything, from a creep who won’t take his hand off of you at a bar to a man who has you pinned to the ground.
I don’t care how busy you are. If you are a woman, you need to take this course. I found the time, so can you.
There are four classes in the course spread out over two weeks. Each class is three hours long.
Make the time. You will feel so much better when you leave your late-night study session at the library or when you slide into that hot black dress or even when you’re just home alone watching The Daily Show.
Do yourself a favor, and take this class. Safety isn’t relative — it’s something you create.
To sign up for a course, email Tina Lamb at cjlamb@ufl.edu. The schedule of courses can be found at: http://www.police.ufl.edu/community-services/rape-aggression-defense-class-schedule-rad/.
Shannon Kaestle is a UF journalism junior. This column originally ran on page 6 on 8/14/2013 under the headline "Rape Aggression Defense course is RAD"
