My Story
As soon as I was given this prompt I knew what I wanted to write about, what I needed to write about. I knew it would be anything but easy. My face is still getting rid of the ecchymosis that outlines my right cheek bone and my head has just begun to itch around the scab on the right side of my temple. It is funny to think about how fast everything occurred and how slowly I am recuperating. One moment I am walking down a dimly lit walkway and another I am on the floor bleeding. People call me strong and brave, but that is nothing close to the truth, at least it was not in that moment.
On November 11, 2016 I was the victim of an aggravated assault, a hate crime to be exact. I am used to walking alone in the streets at any time of day, but I am not use to getting beat. I come from a neighborhood in which you turn and walk the other way if someone calls out to you. So when I heard voices shouting at me from the top of the bookstore hill I changed my route and walked the other way. My earphones were put back into my ears, and I continued walking without a care in the world. Suddenly, my shoulder was violently pulled back. Before I could realize what was going on, a sharp rock was beat into my face. In the blink of an eye I was on the floor, my heart pounding against my chest and my head throbbing with pain and confusion. Once my ears started to hear the homophobic slurs being thrown my way I knew it was time to run. The only problem was that three male figures stood between me and my way to safety. Tears prickled the corners of my eyes as powerful, hurtful words were spit in my face.
Defending myself was something that did not come naturally. I have had years of mixed martial arts (MMA) training and yet, nothing seemed to help. Vile laughter echoed in my ears as I got up and ran. The shouts of the three men continued to pound through my ears as I ran up a dirt hill and into the light. The scratches on both my hands and knees became irrelevant as I continued to run to the Merrill dorms. My lungs were burning and my heart was beating fast by the time I arrived. A trembling hand was able to pull my cellphone out of my pocket and call my roommate. He rushed down and gasped when he saw the blood dripping down my face. I was unaware of the blood flowing freely from a small gash on my forehead. He asked questions, but they went unregistered in my mind as the events continued to replay in my mind like a broken record. Another gasp broke my trance as I saw four pairs of eyes look down at me.
Gasps are something that people tend to do around me when they find that I was the victim of this assault. Then they continue on to telling me just how brave I am. I do not even know how brave I am. My close friends here have repeatedly let me know that I am the strongest person they know. But then why does it feel as if my strength, my identity was taken away from me that night. I have always been proud of who I am, but now I feel the need to grow my hair out and start wearing more feminine clothing. I did not even categorize myself as a “dyke” or “butch” until the night that those words were thrown at me with so much force and power that I was knocked down to the dirt. I feel as if I was thrown into an abyss in which there is no ladder to climb out of or light to show me the way out.
I know that I am not the only one who has been a victim of an assault, let alone a victim of this type of hatred. That is why I want to let everyone know that it is not over. People like my assailants are only scared of being in a world with “beautiful” people. I may not be in a place in which I love myself and my identity, but I do not want anyone to ever be ashamed of who they are. There are days in which I am unable to go out because I am triggered by the darkness or a group of friends or even blonde hair, but I know that I will not always hide behind my low hanging cap. I will learn to be stronger and happy again. What happens next? Honestly, I do not know, but I am hoping that smiling and being able to go out without being scared are a part of my future.
Most people are surprised when they learn about this assault. They never thought that a hate crime like this would happen at a “liberal” school such as UC Santa Cruz. Even I thought that I would be safe here. The elections came around and I was far from worried for myself and other LGBTQ+ members. I knew that there would be a backlash to people of different orientations, but I never thought that something so physical and hateful would happen here in my haven. This assault just opened my eyes to the real world. I know now that I am not completely safe anywhere and that I may never be. I am gay and as much as I would want to change in order to keep myself from harm, that is not going to happen. Now I just need to learn to protect myself from any future harm that may come my way. I have made a home out of UC Santa Cruz, and this is where I will be for the next four years of my life. Hopefully it brings more happiness than pain, but I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.