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The calculated reality of being a woman

Lasallian women live a predetermined reality of hyper-vigilance, rigorously planning their routines, clothes, and routes for their own safety.

From outfits to commute routes, safety becomes a Lasallian woman’s top priority in making decisions.

Being a woman in the present day is not easy, more so with the unspoken awareness that every woman is forced to live with: safety is never guaranteed. Navigating spaces—be they public or private—comes with constantly calculating the risks for each step, from which our schools and universities are no exception. 

For Lasallian women Jules Francisco (IV, BSLGL) and Riese Lamson (III, BSChE), these calculations dictate their movement around campus. Both share that they intentionally avoid the Enrique Razon Sports Center and the areas near the LRT station, citing dim lighting, a history of safety incidents, and lack of visible security. While the world outside may be unpredictable, the environment within the University can—and should—be arranged to limit, or even eliminate, the unending calculations women make to get from one place to another.

The invisible labor of being careful 

While some characterize the precautions women take when going out as “too much,” these measures are strategic responses to lived experiences. For most Lasallian women, safety is not simply reacting to danger, but a continuous effort in preemption. This labor begins with self-adjustment, a recalibration of behavior to minimize perceived vulnerability. 

Francisco believes that being cautious is not an overreaction, but rather an act of survival. While walking through Taft or commuting, Francisco often practices “mental math,” such as sending her live location to friends and family when using ride-hailing apps. Others practice this by walking quickly, wearing jackets to cover up, pretending to be on a phone call and avoiding certain routes or modes of transportation.

For Celena Menoria (III, AB-ISE), movement through Taft requires deliberate hyper-awareness. “[If] you walk slowly, you become more of a target,” she notes, revealing how her safety measures are instinctive and constant. These range from avoiding the use of her phone while commuting to deliberately planning where she should sit: Even something as small as accessorizing is crucial; she learned this after her aunt experienced a theft-related injury just for wearing big earrings in a jeepney. Experiences like these transform everyday choices, like wearing jewelry into a calculated risk for women. 

The price of a safer ride home

For many Lasallian women, the commute home often entails a premeditated process and rarely a matter of logistics. The decision between a jeepney, the LRT, a UV Express, or booking a Grab ride boils down to one question: which option feels safest today?

While public transportation remains the most accessible option, accessibility does not always translate to peace of mind. While commuting, women often clutch their belongings to prevent theft. The ride back home may be familiar, but the feeling of safety is never guaranteed.

For Francisco, the disparity in safety becomes more evident at night. While public transportation is convenient and affordable, it comes with limitations. For instance, once the LRT ceases daily operations, ride-hailing apps become the preferred option in those late hours. “Ride-hailing apps give me more control over my route and provide a sense of safety,” Francisco explains. That sense of control—knowing the driver’s details, the route, and being able to share live location—offers assurance that public transportation cannot. 

However, this security comes at a cost. These services are significantly more expensive than public transit, effectively commodifying personal security. In this context, safety becomes a budgetary item. This creates a harsh reality in a city where commuting is inevitable; those with fewer financial resources are forced to accept higher levels of risk. Even then, the need to stay alert never truly disappears, as even paying for security does not always guarantee it.

A responsibility that isn’t theirs

Besides transportation, the mundane decisions regarding what to wear, where to walk, and even which belongings to carry are also shaped by prior experiences of harassment. 

For Lamson, experiencing stalking and catcalling shifted her mindset on how she should behave in public. She adopted a form of performative confidence, maintaining a poker face when walking through places she deems unsafe to ensure that no vulnerability is visible. 

Francisco echoes this statement, saying her experiences with catcalling taught her that vigilance is necessary because harassment can happen anywhere, even in typically “safe” environments like the school.

These adjustments extend beyond their behavior and physical appearance. Depending on the location and time, Lamson opts for more “modest” clothing and chooses clothes with pockets when going out at night to avoid attention and secure her belongings. 

Francisco similarly avoids clothing that might attract unwanted attention and makes it a point to walk quickly through crowded areas to avoid being approached, vindicating her statement, “it’s not just me overthinking, but a learned response to real situations.” 

Reclaiming safe public space

Safety is a fundamental right, yet for women, it remains something that needs to be planned or calculated. Francisco states that “even if there’s no immediate danger, I believe that prevention is always better than a cure,” calling for more preventive measures ranging from awareness campaigns to regularly monitored CCTV cameras and strategic guard deployments by the University. 

While the Safe Spaces Act, enacted in 2019, recognizes the role of women in nation-building and ensures gender equality in both public spaces and private institutions, its enforcement remains inconsistent. But while the act looks good on paper, its actual implementation leaves much to be desired. Menoria explains that while the act is recognized around the campus, there are still cases where women feel unsafe without clear means of approaching someone for help. She states that she feels “like it has a good effect, but may mga lingering effects na nangyayari…. I don’t think it’s fully gone.” 

(…but there are still lingering effects that happen…)

While there are existing initiatives to protect women, these alone cannot replace the need for vigilant institutional support and societal change. Being a woman is not meant to be defined as an exhausting puzzle, but rather the safety they work tirelessly to achieve must be the most basic right.

Jasmine Alagos

By Jasmine Alagos

Calli Lingga

By Calli Lingga

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