I want to walk you through a day as a feminist.

I wake up and turn on the news as I eat breakfast, usually to hear of yet another rape, murder or abuse of a woman or child. I try and shake it off and I say to myself, “I won’t let this get me down, I will make a difference.” I go to class and try to pay attention, but this can be hard if I am sitting next to a group of my supposed colleges talking about “this girl’s rack” and “that girl’s ass.”

I try not to get angry, after all who am I to say anything? I only pay thousands of dollars for my education. I repeat to myself, “I won’t let them get me down, I will make a difference.”

After class, I pick up the newspaper to read an article on women’s self defense, as if learning how to kick a guy in the groin will make me safe from the most prevalent form of rape – acquaintance rape. Sure, one of my guy friend’s might try to sexually assault me, but that is ok as long as I can kick or yell “fire!”

I go to the Student Recreational Center to try and work off some stress, because, yes, it is stressful to be a feminist in college. I make sure to wear a baggy T-shirt. Not because I want to use the circuit machines without breaking the rules, but because I have learned my lesson by wearing the occasional tank top.

Wearing a tank top at the SRC is tantamount to walking in with a sign that says, “please stare at my breasts, especially if you are in a group of two or more, because then you can talk about them too!” It isn’t as if my breasts belong to me, or do they? As the day wears on, I am not so sure anymore. “I won’t let this get me down, I will make a difference,” I tell myself. At least I think I can?

Next, it is time to buy some groceries, after all feminists have to eat too! I take my time shopping, who wants to go home and do homework? I get to the exit and look at my watch, it is 12 a.m. My car is parked under a burnt out light. Hmm.

“I don’t care,” I tell myself. “I wouldn’t be scared if I were a man.” Even so I walk out with my keys laced through my fingers and my cell phone in my pocket. Check the back seat, check to see if there are any cars suspiciously close. OK. I am good. I hop in my car, angry I was even scared. “I won’t let this get me down”I”.what is the rest of my mantra?”

Finally, I am home and unpacked, ready to read and go to bed. I remind my roommates to lock up before they go to sleep. Wow I am tired! I am about to turn out my light and cuddle with my puppy, when I realize I have yet to check my e-mail. I notice the recent crime alert. A woman raped at gun-point two streets from my house? Sadly, I am not terribly surprised.

I re-check the locks and tell myself not to get too angry, I have to sleep tonight. “I will not let this get me down”” I sniff, trying hard not to cry for the woman I just read about. I eventually doze off while asking myself, “Will I ever make a difference?”

Danielle Marcum is a senior majoring in exercise physiology. Send responses to her column to [email protected].