Photo by Ildar Sagdejev via Wikimedia Commons
Cristina Garcia/ Staff Writer
Do you ever feel like you’re a walking Lifetime movie waiting to happen? That’s how I felt last Friday night.
After a long shift at my job finalizing details for a workshop, I closed the office and proceeded to go to my car. On my way out of Graham Center, I noticed the recharge station. I remembered that my phone had died after interviewing someone for a story, but I didn’t want to waste ten minutes waiting for it to charge, I wanted to go home. It was still 8 p.m., so I didn’t think too much about it.
I forgot where I left my car, so I decided to check the Gold Parking Garage to see if I parked on the fourth floor. Upon entering the elevator I pressed four. Shortly after a man slipped into the elevator as it was closing. I was a little surprised at the suddenness of his presence, but what disturbed me more was how close he was standing. Instead of taking the other corner he stood directly next to me.
When he pressed five I calmed myself down, noticing the glass wall letting everyone on the ground floor peek into the elevator. I figured if anything happened, I could bang on the glass to call attention to my situation. Fortunately, it didn’t come to that, I reached my floor safely.
I excused myself and stepped out of the elevator. Before the doors could close, he stepped out of the elevator too, claiming that he didn’t remember where he parked his car. Normally, I wouldn’t be worried, but there’s something about a parking garage at night that makes every little detail seem sinister.
I found myself slightly overwhelmed. I had to juggle keeping track of his location, looking for my car and preparing a plan of self defense. All I could focus on was getting space between me and him and the weight of my laptop and purse in my hands. Luckily he headed in the opposite direction, but I wasn’t sure if he was going to sneak up behind me. I scanned the fourth floor and quickly made my way to the stairs, relieved to get some distance between myself and the stranger.
Remembering vaguely that I parked on the third floor some time this week, I decided to check. I scanned the cars, walking from one end to the other, but I didn’t see mine. What I did see were two people flagging down a car to talk to the driver.
I imagined the worst: the female luring an unsuspecting victim to stop and lower their defenses, while the male companion prepared to attack the driver. I had to walk through them to get to the stairs so I could check the fifth floor for my car. Instead of being witness to some heinous crime, I overheard the young woman asking the occupants of the stopped car whether they had some cables to help jump start her car. Relieved, but skeptical, I slipped by as fast as I could.
Finding relief in closing the stairway door and placing a barrier between myself and my imagined scenario, I focused on climbing the steps of the stairs. To my dismay, a used condom was left on one of the steps, as if there weren’t enough undertones of rape.
Keep in mind I’m normally not so panicky, but when the reality is that one in four college women are predicted to be the victim of sexual assault and you’re stuck wandering a parking garage alone looking for your car, you have to worry.
Reaching the fifth floor, I carefully peered around, looking for anything suspicious while simultaneously I looked for the emergency button. Perhaps it was my nervousness or my location, but I didn’t see it. So I looked for my car. Thankfully I spotted it nestled beneath the trees of Lot 4, in front of the Blue Parking Garage.
I made my way to the car and started thinking about the people stuck with a dead battery on the third floor. As I crossed the street between the two garages, one of the lampposts went dark. I thought about calling the Department of Parking and Transportation to see if someone could help them when I saw a call box in Lot 4. My battery life was at its end, so I decided to use the call box to reach someone that could possibly help the students stranded in the garage.
When I went to use it, the machine didn’t work. I tried the call box three times. Each time, I wasn’t able to connect with anyone. I thanked heaven that I wasn’t really in trouble because I wouldn’t have been able to contact the operator for help.
In the five years I’ve been at FIU, the one time I used a call box, it didn’t work. How am I supposed to feel about my safety on-campus?
If anything, this night showed me that anything can happen to anyone, even on-campus. I was lucky that nothing happened to me, but what about the one in four? She could be a girl sitting in your class or a close friend.
I expect the University to conduct an investigation into their call box system and check that they are all operating. I also feel it is necessary for the University to provide emergency buttons throughout more locations on-campus and maybe security guards.
Something has to be done to make all University campuses safer for students and faculty alike. If we’re paying the transportation access fee, I think we’re owed the right to proper parking lot lights and working emergency call boxes.
Statistics about Sexual Assault and College Campuses
FIU Office of Business and Finance
About Post Author
