Last Tuesday I attended a date rape workshop at the first-year entryway where I am a prefect. The statistics given were staggering: One out of four college women have been raped, usually by someone they know. In one study, 30 percent of college men said they would commit rape if they thought they could get away with it. When the word "rape" was not used, 50 percent of the men surveyed said they would commit acts meeting the legal definition of rape.

As depressing as much of the discussion was, I found some solace in the behavior of the men at the workshop. When I was a first-year, the reaction of my male peers to the date rape presentation could be summed up as "I would never do that, so it's not my problem."

One of them later memorably described all women as being either "pals, babes or bitches." He said this in front of me and my roommates and seemed surprised when we took offense. The first-year men at the workshop this week showed far greater sensitivity. After a story of date rape was read, one of them commented "It's the kind of thing that makes you ashamed to be a guy."

The statistic "one in four" is a chilling one to hear as a woman. When I first heard it, I knew no victims (or "survivors," as the workshop called them) of date rape. Now, I could spend thie entire column recounting stories of rape or attempted rape.

What then, do I tell the women in my Pennypacker entryway? That it won't happen to them? The appalling truth is that it might. That is a frightening thought to consider at the beginning of your college career.

Date rape statistics reveal the vulnerability of otherwise self-sufficient women. Whether they consider themselves students of Harvard or of Radcliffe, Democrats or Republicans, pre-meds or pre-laws, each of them faces the reality that one day her intelligence, strength, independence and self-assurance may count for nothing. And that her trust in another student may be brutally violated. If it doesn't happen to her, it will happen to one of her closest friends.

Three years ago, when I was a firstyear, I first heard a friend tell me she had been raped. An old friend at a local college (not Harvard) called to chat. In the course of the conversation, she asked me if I remembered a fratenity party we had both gone to that September. We had left the party together in time to catch the subway and separated at Park Street. She had been looking forward to going out to pizza with a guy from her dorm. While my friend's roommate waited (discreetly, the roommate thought) outside their dorm room, the man raped her. My friend did not want to go to the police or her college disciplinary committee. She just thought I should know.

Just two weeks ago I heard another story. A friend was chatting with a casual acquaintance of hers in his room in Winthrop. She had not seen him in a while and was surprised when he started kissing her. He continued despite her demurrals. When it became clear that he was intending to do a lot more, she became more firm in her protests. The man, who has a wonderful girlfriend, called my friend a "bitch" and a "slut." Finally, she ran out of the room.

I doubt many of my first-years are aware of the ongoing controversy surrounding Harvard's date rape policy. Few of them read The Crimson, and it's easy to get confused by the dictionary debate that marks date rape discussion on this campus.

The Date Rape Task Force was set up almost a year and a half ago in the wake of the protests that followed insensitive comments by Dean of the College L. Fred Jewett '57 and Assistant Dean for Undergraduate Education Jeffrey Wolcowitz on the subject of date rape. The blanket dismissal by the Ad Board of the suggestions of the Task Force--a group set up to critique the Ad Board's own performance--is more than a little disturbing.

The Faculty Council may eventually agree to some sort of compromise on date rape, but the truth is that it will make little difference. My female first-years may go on to be All-Ivy, make Phi Beta Kappa or maybe just write for The Crimson. But one in four of them will be raped. All the furor may have raised consciousnesses but it hasn't lowered any statistics.

Lori E. Smith '93-'94 is a Crimson editor. Her column appears every other Saturday on this page.