Nineteen percent. One in five women. Today. I am still scraping at my story. I can’t go back and get the young woman I was from the Italian restaurant before she climbs onto the boat. I can’t stop the truck or the rapist, but I can let the girl I was know that I see her. I hear her. I know she is telling the truth. If nothing changes—and in thirty years, not nearly enough has changed—next year, there will be one hundred thousand more assaults on our campuses. One is too many. One hundred thousand.
