As an adolescent Black girl growing up in the Midwest in the 1980s and 1990s, I had a very good understanding of the" dos" and" don'ts" of life. I knew I should work hard in school and strive for good grades. I under-stood that I should be kind to others and respectful to my parents. And I knew that above all else, I should refrain from any behavior that might make me look like a fast girl.

As a journalist explained recently,"[b] eing fast meant you were asking for something. Being fast could mean wearing certain lip colors or hairstyles, tight clothing, showing age-appropriate interest in the opposite sex, or even receiving interest from peers and older men-regardless of whether that interest was welcome or reciprocated." For me, the best way to avoid being perceived as fast or womanish2 was to dress modestly, lean into my natural shyness, and avoid being too aggressive with boys despite my bud-ding interest in them. Ironically, my efforts to avoid being fast did little to protect me from sexually aggressive boys and men. Although I am not a survivor of sexual violence, I recall older boys and men making sexually suggestive comments to me starting at around the age of ten. From that young age, I learned that my actions could result in attention from men and boys that made me feel uncomfortable. I certainly wanted boys to like me, but I did not want to be assaulted, and I believed that acting like a fast girl might result in rape.