Walking home from my music lesson when I was 15, in my neighborhood, around 5 pm, daylight, I passed two boys my own age on the sidewalk. I didn’t move over to make room for the two of them to pass me and one of them reached out and slammed his hand hard across my chest. it actually hurt a lot but more than that I felt humiliated. I remember walking the rest of the way home crying, hot tears filling up my eyes underneath my glasses. It seemed so uncalled for. I didn’t know them. I was flat-chested, kind of nerdy. I wondered if I had just moved over if it wouldn’t have happened. When I got home I didn’t even tell my mother. This was Winnipeg, West End, 1974. We learn early on to make room so that there is less possibility of something like this happening.