Everyone knew Chuck Williams had a thing for red headed girls. In debate class, he called on the gingers (like me) more often than anyone else. I remember the first time I was asked to stay after class. “Ms.___, let’s work on your rebuttal, he said. He placed the paper on which I’d written my argument on his desk. I was in front of him. He stood behind me, too closely. He reached around me to point out “flaws” in my case and his hand crossed my breast as he wrote. He is body trapped me between him and the desk. He had an erection. I wiggled out, saying I was late for my next class. I made certain never to be alone in the classroom with him, or close to him in Town Hall, the dining hall, sports events, or anywhere on campus. I felt unsafe with him around until I graduated.
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