SAFE emerged from an idea I'd been pondering for a while. With the advent of the #MeToo movement and all its complications, this seemed more than ever the time to explore it. 

 

We've had varied feedback from SAFE audiences, ranging from "Oh my god, I've been in that exact situation" to "How was he supposed to know? She didn't say anything!"

 

And I'm okay with that. Because that's the conversation.

 

The worst and thorniest part of the #MeToo movement is ambiguity of fault. It's easy to condemn the most extreme offenders. However, I recall sitting around talking with a group of girls, and - I don't remember how it came up - but we unearthed the fact that three out of the four of us had been date raped. And none of us had reported it or had known if we should report it. And all of us still felt confused and guilty.  

 

Few people know what goes through female heads in moments when we feel threatened, when we're at a clear physical disadvantage, and girls are taught boys are aggressive: diffuse, diffuse, diffuse.

 

And boys are taught girls "play hard to get," it's necessary to pursue, convince, and - depending on age - almost trick them into admitting their crushes or lust. 

 

There is a clear problem in the way we're raising our children that has resulted in the current sliding scale of assault, and that needs to be addressed.

 

A brief anecdote:

When I was eight or so, I was browsing the library while my babysitter's daughter sat nearby. A group of boys of similar age to me, maybe brothers, maybe friends, started following me around, calling me "pretty" and asking me to talk to them. I didn't feel particularly pretty, but that's beside the point. More to the point, I was uncomfortable in my body, incredibly embarrassed, and I tried to ignore them and walk away. When that didn't work, I asked them to leave me alone. They laughed and kept trying to engage me in conversation.

 

Then, while I had my back to them - one by one - they lept on me, enveloped me in a bear hug from behind, and kissed me on the cheek -- all while cheering each other on and all in full view of my babysitter's daughter -- who said "awwww" and called it cute. I felt humiliated and helpless. We checked out my books, and I didn't talk to anyone for the rest of the afternoon.

 

But we were just little kids, and those sweet boys just thought I was pretty! Is it that big a deal? Clearly, it fucking is.