Last night I went to my usual pilates class, and my instructor was running late. When we settled in for class, she announced that she had some negative news, but she wanted to tell us before class so we could get on with our class and put some positivity into the world. (I approve of her choice!)<\/p>\n
She was late to class because a woman who had been raped, throat slashed, and left for dead had come to her house for help. You can read the story here<\/a>. Beyond what information the Trib story gives, I also know that the guy was wearing women’s undergarments under his clothes.<\/p>\n The whole story left our whole class stunned. This area is so far north of Chicago that there’s still a rural feel to it, and this is one of those really unfortunate things that leaves everyone feeling vulnerable. I guess the attacker was released from prison in November, and he’s a registered sex offender.<\/p>\n Anyway, I’m lucky enough to not hear many of these stories. The year before I went to St. Ambrose, a student was raped. For my freshman year, everyone was adamant about not walking across campus alone. By senior year, the caution had slacked. That was the last time I was aware that my otherwise-safe environment was not as it appeared. I can’t decide if I should turn my naturally low internal alarm up a notch in general, or just when the environment dictates. I don’t want to become paranoid and exhausted by my cautionary efforts, but I don’t want to live cavalierly when it’s apparent I should be more careful.<\/p>\n