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-