V   I   C   T   I   M         W   A   R   R   I   O   R   S

All she wanted to do was take a simple self-defense class. She didn't realize she was joining a Kleenex-clutching, sob-sister cult + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + By CAROL LLOYD Illustration by Brian Biggs when I signed up for Model Mugging, a self-defense class that teaches women to fight in simulated rape scenes, I had my apprehensions. After all, asking a giant padded man to mug me ("Parking lot at night; I'm walking to my car; oral assault, please") seemed like a pretty twisted path to empowerment. Even so, I was more than willing to pay men to pin me down, sputter unspeakable filth in my face, and let me practice punting their testicles to kingdom come. Ironic? Sure. Scary? Definitely. But well worth my five hundred dollars if someday it would keep me alive. What I never imagined was that the therapeutic safe zone of my all-female class would turn out to be the least safe place of all. "The white mats are very special," says Sandra (all names in this story have been changed), an assistant with long, droopy braids. "We don't want to scuff them. Stocking feet or your white-soled shoes only." I glance around the small martial arts school as I change into my sneakers. The women crowd in. With their bag lunches and shy smiles, it feels like the first day of summer camp at the community rec hall. The other assistant, Penny, a wispy blond with enormous skittish eyes, notices my shoes. Despite the scrubbing I have given them, a few tiny veins of dirt show in the deepest crevices. "If you could buy a new pair by next Sunday," Penny says, smiling hard, "that would really be great." After passing out animal-shaped name stickers and calling role, Sandra and Penny herd us into a circle where the three instructors, Bruce, Dan and Teresa, sit whispering. With their salt-and-pepper whiskers and sleepy smiles, Dan and Bruce seem like your average Sensitive New Age Guys. The fact that they make a living attacking women in the service of feminism only sharpens this image. Teresa, whose milky skin and dark watchful eyes exude the fervent pragmatism of a young nun, fixes her gaze upon us. "Can't it be rounder?" she says referring to our lopsided circle. We scoot into formation. "That's better." She rewards us with a small, pleased smile, then passes out a 10-clause release form, which requires us to "get clearance" from our therapists to take the class and to "agree and acknowledge" that the instructors may request to consult with our therapists at any time. Next Teresa reads aloud a document called the "Commitments," and waits for each of us to raise our hand in agreement. Along with promising to "think positively and be patient, supportive and loving with MYSELF," we vow to listen "caringly and without judgment." A spindly woman raises her hand with an air of impatience. "As a psychotherapist, I think it's very important that people ask before they touch one another. Can we add that to the commitments?" No one expresses any objections, so the ask-before-touch commitment is voted into law. As the class progresses, I learn that few things are more bizarre than hearing "Can I touch you?" repeated with monotonous sincerity between scenes of increasingly violent physical assault. After breaking us into twos to confide our fears, Teresa calls the group together for a "check-in circle," encouraging us to disclose any past sexual abuse. To remind us that "it's okay to cry," we pass a box of Kleenex around like a Native American talking stick. Dutifully, the women recount incidents of incest, date rape, wife beating and toddler molestation. "My therapist tells me that I show all the signs of ritual abuse but I can't remember anything," sighs one young woman, whose slumped posture and sunken face broadcast her pain. "She recommended this class in hopes it can help me remember." Coincidentally, that night for "homework," along with a stack of inspirational poems, we receive a sunny yellow page titled "Flashbacks," which defines the phenomena's telltale signs. "If you are feeling small ... you are having a flashback. If you are experiencing stronger feelings than are called for in the present situation ... you are having a flashback." According to this sheet, I have a flashback every morning before I drink my coffee. + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + Next: A Buddhist temple for the insane.