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About The Battalion. (College Station, Tex.) 1893-current | View Entire Issue (July 14, 1994)
y • July 14, 1994 Thursday • July 14, 1994 mmmmfamhstMMUmmgm ^ y.'\ Page 5 ■C-s £«e3« iters Women should tackle self defense Frustrations while learning personal protection attack peace of mind ©wm we (W ■im&i *^.1 1 .^-1- — Lt. Dan (Sinise), ;s in Vietnam, ap- rot have le^s. Be- ;gs off-screen, his metimes appear itherwise it looks iture (maybe even be able to create totally authentic pie in them. Like iver Stone’s “Wild who have been ar in “new” films. James Dean and “Rebel Without a d happen, ik colorization of what about “res- of old film stars? ecomes a reality, vho are very alive ‘Forrest Gump.” knows MICRO BlO-PlAGNOSTICSl Hf ELIZABETH PRESTON Columnist r, cheap form of everyday life. ,he theme of the duction sets of lie” and “Termi- ies of Bob Ring- and the special ss” and “Termi- al feast, the film has lit- )t incredibly in- :pp (“Death Be- iins the chance : Shadow’s past more suspense- overed through Penelope Ann luilty secrets,” ilready knows summer block- ion King,” pay . Leave “The ernoon. There ban this one. I n the 10th grade I was attacked by someone whom I trusted and respected. Unknown to me when I met and casually hung out with him, “Michael” had a vOe temper and no emotional control. We were walking to our cars at the end of a club officers’ meeting, and I said something that sparked his temper. He pushed me into the garage wall and held me there by my neck and arm. He was red-faced and angry, forcefully telling me less than six inches from my face that I had better shut up OR ELSE. Crying and shaken, I decided not to report him to the police because I was afraid of his popularity and ability to affect my life. In 11th grade, I tended to lose my keys all the time. A male friend, “Steve,” was trying to help me locate them one time when the keys were being particularly elusive. When I finally j found them in a rather obvious place, he was so ... frustrated that he ran towards me, grabbed my shoulders and propelled me across the high school courtyard, yelling at me until I tripped and fell. When I stood up - shaken, furious and crying - he had no clue why I was angry. I These two incidents brought home the truth of my vulnerability. These two people invaded my space and my rights, simply because they were stronger than I. If a situation again arose where I needed to be able to defend myself, I realized I would be helpless. This summer I finally decided to do something about this shortcoming and signed up for a self-defense class. The class was very detailed, and taught many useful techniques interspersed with realistic advice on what to do when trapped in a dangerous situation. Though not labeled as a class for a certain gender, there were only three males in a class of about 50 people. Two of those guys were already well-versed in self- defense skills and were just interested in seeing what was taught at Texas A&M. As soon as we learned what I felt was an ample number of moves, I rushed out to try and defend myself against attack. One friend in particular allowed me to use him as my guinea pig. This is an average-sized guy, a little on the thin side. He weighs 160 pounds and stands only 5-feet 9-inches tall. I weigh 145 and tower over him with my 6-foot height, yet every single time I asked him to attack me, no matter how or where or in what manner, he defeated every maneuver in my arsenal. I then decided he must have been more skilled than he let on, so I asked four or five other men friends to “attack” me. They all knew how to easily defeat my defenses. True, this was not a random sampling of the population, and granted also that I did not use all of my brute physical strength while trying to escape. I did get frustrated, however, and in a few instances I even decided to seriously try to fight - biting, kicking and elbowing my “attacker.” All to no avail. They still evaded me, and they then retaliated by throwing my legs out from under me. I ended up on my back glaring at the ceiling and my friends’ gloating faces. These people were not experts and they certainly have not had training in attacking, yet they still were able to defeat me. What is wrong with this picture? Why are my women friends signing up for self-defense classes in droves while my male friends possess the necessary knowledge almost innately? One guy told me he learned these moves while scuffling on elementary school playgrounds with other boys. Another said that it was just an obvious action that everyone knew. Neither Michael nor Steve would have been able to bully any of the other kids as they so easily did me. The truth is that I don’t have a solution. Should we teach little girls to get into fights and discover ways of defeating their opponents? Or make self defense a required part of our children’s elementary education, like sit-ups and jumping jacks? These ideas are not practical. All I know is that I don’t want my daughter, if I ever have one, to suffer at the hands of the Michaels and Steves of this world. If and when my daughter is attacked, she will know from childhood the appropriate ways to respond and protect herself. If someone had taught me self defense at an earlier age, Michael and Steve would certainly remember me as clearly as I recall them. Elizabeth Preston is a junior English major “This is the lab where O.J. Simpson’s hair samples will be analyzed, and with us for an exclusive interview is the man who landscapes the bushes here... ” Why are my women friends signing up for self-defense classes in droves while my male friends possess the necessary knowledge almost innately? The Battalion Editorial Board Editorials ac in The Battalion reflect Mark Evans, Editor in chief William Harrison, Managing editor Jay Robbins, Opinion Editor appearing the views of the editorial board. They do not necessarily reflect the opinions of other Battalion staff members, the Texas A&M student body, regents, administration, faculty or staff. Columns, guest columns, cartoons and letters express the opinions of the authors. Contact the opinion editor for information on submitting guest columns. Trial by publicity Simpson punished by media frenzy ■c- “T \e ?! W\ 1 >• I r "V J /J A r •V A ^ 0 V J id a star :ated. ...that’s what tmor - “Bare d Bare It”, f humor to be ? recreation arts, swim- 25 acres to md relaxation ely involved ed two miles V Highway al Chamber with our ave never had The hysteria over the now infamous “O.J. Simpson Case” has reached ridiculous proportions. Details of the pretrial hearing to de termine whether Simpson should stand trial for two counts of murder dominat ed the news last week. Not even the ac tual trial, that pretrial hearing pre empted hours of daytime programs, re placing the fictional soap operas of dra ma, romance gone bad and intrigue with a real life sto ry -with the same elements. It is understandable that the case against a seemingly likable, affable, easygoing sportscaster and former football star has at tracted extensive attention. The ultimate “good guy” is charged with murder. Yet, the inordinate amount of media coverage of this event evidences a serious problem in terms of what we as a nation consider important. Last Saturday’s Houston Chronicle ran two stories at the top of the front page con cerning the judge’s decision that there is “ample evidence” to try Simpson for murder. Underneath those stories ran a headline two-thirds smaller an nouncing the death of North Korean President Kim II Sung. Is the Simpson case more important than a drastic event in the nation with which the United States had just be gun talks to resolve a major nuclear Simpson crisis and prevent war? The Simpson saga must be more appealing because of its dramatic details, complete with implications of sex and violence. The media and public need to con cern themselves with less trivial mat ters that truly affect this country. While the high-profile case may^ have initiated an important dialogue on important topics such as spousal abuse, it has spurred a' greater number of frivo-; lous topics into the lime- , light. Major news maga-; zines have devoted their; covers to Simpson for the > past several weeks. Arti- > cles have dissected every - aspect of the case, from l Simpson’s crack defense team of expensive, famous ' trial lawyers to the ques tion of how many hairs may be removed from his head for DNA tests. Such intense scrutiny is not fair for the man who must be tried. Simpson has already been been punished even though he must be presumed innocent until proven otherwise. If found innocent, he can never resume his life without carry ing the stigma of this trial with him. Maybe this is just a brute fact of life where celebrity defendants are concerned. But it is not fair. O.J. Simpson should be tried and convicted by a impartial jury of his peers before; he is punished. Family reunions bring together all varieties of kinfolks MICHELLE KAYE Oyster i, Shell anes I ! T“'\ reak out the cherry cobbler and refried chicken ... It’s family reunion I—/time again! Summer months are here and that means bees and wasps flitting in the summer breezes, potato salad spoiling on the picnic table, kids peeing in the pool and families all over America joining together to pay tribute to j mutual fertilization. All my life I’ve been taking part in this summer pastime with every Letbetter between Beaumont and Gonzales. The only times I’ve been allowed to miss have been when I was out of the j country. That tells how hard it is to get out of these things. My portion of the Letbetters belongs to Joe and Ollie Kaye, my grandparents. The children of Joe and Ollie are my dad, Don, and uncle, Tommy. The treasured event took place this past weekend, and again my life was touched by relatives I was happy to see, a few I don’t like to admit I know and a few I swear I’ve never seen before. This year I brought my boyfriend, figuring it was only fair to give a possible mate a preview of the potential gene pool. He’s still around, though I don’t know whether out of sympathy or curiosity. I The weekend always begins at Grumpy’s Motor : Inn in Flatonia, to finish off with an afternoon at I Sulphur Park in Shiner. (That’s right... the beer.) When the Don Kayes first arrive, things are fairly calm. Suddenly my cousin Joe runs in and plants a seemingly passionate kiss on my face. The weekend has begun. Joe is gay, which is not such an issue in the real world, but in family reunion land, alternative lifestyles provoke giggling, whispering or complete avoidance. In Joe’s case, it’s avoidance, the most amazing and amusing thing ever. Joe is openly gay, yet the family still asks about his old girlfriend. Though that fling ended over 10 years ago, the conversation makes the grandparents feel a little better. Then there’s Joe’s brother, John. As much as Joe is modern, John is traditional. His most recent habit is calling me a communist because I am a journalism major and open-minded. I don’t exactly believe in this sort of equation, but John’s family and I love him. Don’s kids - Lyle, Lisa and me - make up the rest of the Kaye clan. Though we’re all over 18 we will remain “kids” until we marry or bear children. Lyle is married, but he still fits in the kid category by making a concerted effort to act like one. It’s good to be a kid at these things though. You don’t have to bring any food, and you can complain and whine all you want. Joe has it figured out. Since he’s gay, the odds are he’ll never marry or have children. Theoretically, Joe can be a “kid” forever. Watching adults at family reunions shows how much better it is to be a kid. My mom says regardless of age there are certain things you mm This year I brought my boyfriend to my family reunion, figuring it was only fair to give a possible mate a preview of the potential gene pool. never do around mothers. For Mom, one of those things is smoking. I’ll never forget the reunion at which she and two of my aunts hid in the bathroom with their cigarettes when my grandmother knocked at the motel room door. As quirky as most of the events at a family reunion tended to be when I was younger, there were always constants to make the weekend more . bearable. These constants for me were my great- uncle Honey and my grandfather, Papaw. Every year my sister and I would swim after the Sunday meal. As we left the pool, Honey was waiting to buy us ice cream. He never got ice cream for himself. He just told us jokes the whole time we ate. Honey always wore a funny straw hat and had a quick smile for you that wouldn’t quit. Papaw’s barbecued sausage was another annual expectation. Papaw cooked it and Grandma pushed it on you, like any good grandmother would. Every time he saw me, Papaw would walk up, smack me on the shoulder - to him a love pat - and ask, “Wha’d’ya know good?” He didn’t want an answer. That was just one of his many ways of saying he loved me. But even constants change with time. My sister and I don’t swim at the pool anymore. Honey is older, sometimes too old to remember about the ice cream. But my sister and I remember and will for quite a while. Papaw died a few years ago. That means that even if I do know something good, no one is going to ask me about it. There’s something to be said for families. I’m not quite sure what it is, but there is definitely something ... i$S£& m ^ V J ^Y-G 0?Vv. 0 M M ' - V ’’J' ’ v «• Michelle Kaye is a senior journalism major Readers reject call for local abortion access • I found the July 11 editorial about "Access To Abortion” pitiful. The last sentence pretty much sums up its myopia and selfishness. It claims our community is irresponsible because it allegedly has no access to abortion. I’d see it as irresponsible persons who think they have a need to abort a fetus. Pat Hayes Class of ’88 * In my years at A&M, I have seen more than my share of poor journalism in The Battalion. In spite of these mis takes, I have enjoyed reading “the Batt,” and have realized that it is a learning tool for young journalists try ing to gain experience. However, no amount of human error can equal the idiocy of the editorial in the July 11 edition. The editorial board states that since there are no abortion facilities in this area, women seeking abortions must face the hardship of traveling 100 miles each way to have the procedure performed. I must re spond to these editors’ reasoning by say ing, “What were you thinking?!” If a woman has gone to the trouble to conceive a human life, any amount of responsibility dictates that she must go through a great deal of thought to arrive at the decision to terminate that life. In light of this, a 200-mile trip is totally inconsequen tial, and the editors’ concern for this aspect indicates their total misunder standing or disregard for the sanctity of human life. Abortion is not about a few hours of travel; it is about the heart-rending decision of a potential mother to extinguish the life of the child growing inside of her. Here, some people may disagree with me, and say that the aborted life is not a child but a fetus instead; but the re cent charges filed against Stephanie Moore totally unravel this circumlocu tion of the truth. Under our laws, Moore could have aborted her baby be fore it was born and faced no legal scrutiny. On the other hand, she may face up to 20 years in prison if found guilty of allowing the child to suffocate. The lunacy of these laws is appalling in that the government can tell us that in a matter of minutes the death of an in fant can move from a mere medical pro cedure to a penitentiary offense. Obvi ously, this rapid transformation from : ..v „> li'is m C fetus to child does not occur, but is the concoction of those people who view life in the same manner as the editorial board of this paper. I am ashamed that trash such as the July 11 editorial could emanate from this university which I love so much. Brooke L. Small Class of ’94 style, and accuracy Address letters to: The Battalion - Mail Cali 013 Reed McDonald Texas A&M University CoHege Station, TX 77843-1111 Fax: (409) 845-2647 The Battalion encour ages letters to the editor and will print as many as. space allows. Letters must be 300 words or less and Include the au thor's name, class, and phone number. We reserve the right to edit letters for length, US' >f Aunt the e her ave iorical ters ox- ie and yor of to “ mu- di’s ; emi-