The closing shifts I often work at my on-campus job run well into the night. Since all of the parking lots closer to the building I work in are either paid or reserved for tags I do not have, these occasions often mean that I have to walk for 10-15 minutes to the closest commuter lot in the dark just to get to my car.
Of course, that’s not to mention the two days a week that my night classes put me in a similar situation: a young woman, venturing alone in the dark, armed with nothing but a pocket-sized can of pepper spray and a vague notion of self-defense techniques.
Baton Rouge ranks high among the most dangerous places in the U.S. In Baton Rouge, the crime rate is over two times the national average, and I have roughly a one in 106 chance of being a victim of assault. I am more acutely, excruciatingly aware of this statistic especially when I’m walking across an empty, pitch-black campus, and unfortunately, there isn’t so much as a working streetlight in sight.
I love the University, of course. I love the magnolia blossoms and the old, fussy oaks and the way the sun winks through the canopy in spring. By daylight the University is idyllic, a home, teeming with unabashed, joyful life. But by nightfall, it becomes a labyrinth.
The path to my car is steeped in shadows. The sidewalks are unpatrolled and poorly lit. Most nights, there’s no police presence to even give the illusion of security. Then there are the cameras posted around campus; dubious at best, and completely defunct at worst, as we learned from the Reveille’s January news article.
Despite constant statements from the administration announcing plans to roll out new and improved safety measures over the years, nothing seems to have actually changed. I feel no safer now than I did as a freshman in the fall of 2017. If anything I feel less safe, having heard of the horrific on-campus assaults of countless young women like myself, especially with the attempted kidnappings and incidents in recent years.
I watch the nightly news. I know how this whole thing ends. A young woman, alone and in the dark…If not tonight, then it might be tomorrow night or the night after that.
I love the University. But as a woman, I don’t feel protected here. I’m willing to bet that any one of the 17,000+ female students currently enrolled at the University would say the same thing if given the chance.
This Women’s History Month, I keep wondering: is anyone even listening to us?
Grace Pulliam is an 18-year-old creative writing junior from Zachary, Louisiana.