Ladies on campus, this goes out to you. Yes you, as a momentary doubt flickers through your mind just before you shrug and walk home from the library at 2 o’clock in the morning. It goes out to you as you make a graceful exit from the party and heroically keep those stilettos on your feet during the 10-block march home in the dark, all by yourself. It goes out to all women at the University of Wisconsin who, like generations before us, stop a minute to feel some kind of guilt or uncertainty before hiking home by ourselves in the dark.

My message to you is simple: your safety on the walk home is worth the trouble.

Public discussion about campus safety, beyond swine flu and bar-raid complaints, has been off the front page lately. It’s been a while since the summer of Kelly Nolan, or even my memories from 2006, when a string of late-night sexual assaults by strangers on our campus shook this little freshman’s nerve.

But the problem isn’t going away. See the assault this month on West Washington Avenue, or the robbery last week on State Street. If even pairs of female students or male students don’t seem to be exempt from assault, we should be thinking about our nighttime safety more seriously.

And already I’m starting to sound like my mother, or at least to feel like her. In reality, arguments for personal responsibility and safety are about as popular on campus as advocating for chastity and sobriety. But I assure you, it’s not just about following the rules your parents made. Neither is it about being paranoid because of a few headlines.

So, let’s be real. I chatted with a kind officer of the University of Wisconsin Police Department as I put this piece together and she gave me some very down-to-earth commentary on the facts of making the walk home safer.

First, the risk is real. It’s not guaranteed that crime will ever affect you, but it is almost guaranteed not to if you take the right steps to prevent it. Second, it is always safer to walk with someone else along a well-lit route or avoid the late-night hike altogether in a cab or on a bus. Third, some things that make us feel safer don’t actually make us safer. Talking on a cell phone actually seriously compromises awareness, making one dramatically more susceptible to unpleasant surprises. Pepper spray does sting and burn quite a bit, I’m told, but it can accidentally harm you as well or even be used against you by a skilled assailant.

Already I can hear the complaints bubbling up: “But, I’m an independent woman! I take care of myself! I don’t need anything from anybody!”

And I humbly remind you that walking home alone as a sign of independence is like flicking around lit matches on your carpet as a sign of pyrotechnical mastery. Criminals really don’t care how independent you are.

You’re independent? You’re a strong woman? Prove it. Be on top of your game enough to know your bus routes and what SAFE services are available to you. Or even, heaven forbid, ask someone to walk you home.

And again, I hear it: “But, asking someone to walk me home is so oppressive! I would never let anyone, especially a man, think that I am so weak as to need help!”

You respect yourself? Again, prove it. Know your dignity; your self-worth more than outweighs the small inconvenience of someone else, male or female, going to the trouble of walking you home. Or respect yourself enough to bear the inconvenience of waiting for a SAFEride.

Living life well as a female, in my opinion, really doesn’t just mean pretending to be invincible. It means having the humility to take care of yourself. Crime is not the victim’s fault, but that fact is not an excuse to totally abdicate responsibility.

Being a woman is a beautiful and powerful thing. Seeing beautiful and powerful creatures run around at night like they’re not worth the trouble — or too impatient to make a smart decision — just breaks the heart. This one is dedicated to you, beauties, so go live it up.

Beth Mueller ([email protected]) is a senior majoring in history and journalism.