For this issue of the Journal, I was paired with Sarah Krasin. As you have hopefully read, she uncovered the severe realities of safety and fear on campus. I sat pondering my thoughts. Do I talk about the Department of Public Safety? Do I think about the popularity of the crime drama TV shows like “CSI” and “Law & Order”? Is crime something that I can really satirically joke about? Even though I’d like to say yes, I have a heart, and the crimes that have occurred on campus in the past couple of years are very real and traumatizing things. Then I realized something. If I decided to be a civil human being and not run circles around the reality of crime, why not rip apart the fantasy of safety?

When I say the fantasy of safety, I don’t mean the safety we are provided by our parents, teachers, friends and services like the Milwaukee Police Department and DPS. I am talking about the need, drive and surreality of fear in our culture. Haven’t you ever gone to a movie in theaters or popped one into the DVD player just because you were in the mood to be scared? This is what I call the fantasy of safety.

Since I was a little kid, there has always been a part in me that loved to be scared. At the same time, I am easily petrified by everything (little secret fact about me). I am pretty sure I cried for a couple of hours at age eight when a dead Pocahontas scared the crap out of me at Six Flags Great America, but that isn’t what drives my love of being scared. When I was seven, I saw “Scream” for the first time (which is my favorite horror movie if you care to know). Ever since then, I have become a fanatic of horror films.

Trust me, it is not because of the phenomenal quality, the blood-soaked, D-list casts or even the intriguing plots. That’s all great, but I love horror films because I love the feeling of safety they give me. It comforts me to know that the people on the screen, including the butcher knife-wielding killer, are all fake. I have every right to be “pee-your-pants-scared,” but it is all because I can be. There is no one that will be creepishly stalking my every move, chasing me through a maze of trees, entering my dreams or even throwing a pickaxe into my car window. I am snuggled cozy in my bed, sometimes with my closest friends and family at my sides, but I am safe.

Safe. Four letters. I just talked about an ideal world defined by four letters. Have those four letters made me overly comfortable when I walk down dark streets alone at night? Have those four letters made my best friend carefree enough to crawl into bed at night dreaming of sugarplum fairies and sheep? Have those four letters put parents at ease as they send their children to summer camp every year or camp counselors excited enough to be alone in the woods? All of those situations in which “safe” has become a primary focus are pull outs from various horror films. Some psychologists believe that the horror genre has completely desensitized the American population. Maybe some people don’t know how right the psychologists really are.

I love horror movies — I’ll be the first to admit it. I will also be the first to admit that there are a lot of issues to which we have become desensitized. Each year there are school shootings, disappearing children, serial killers on the loose, car accidents and funerals. It sounds depressing, but have you ever stopped to think about it?

All I am saying is that we need to encourage one another to take life seriously. A little horror is always good fun: the blood-curdling screams, the big-breasted bimbo, the final showdown and the surprise sequels. Just remember, it may be a movie, but we live in reality. Sometimes reality sucks, but it is our job to do our part to make it better.

Always remember that four-letter word, because someday many of us will have kids, and as we turn off their bedroom lights at night they will peer out from beneath their covers and say, “Mommy, Daddy, does the boogeyman live under my bed?” You’ll turn around and lovingly say, “No, baby, you are safe.”

As you shut the door, the hallway light slowly creeping out with you, your child will drift off to sleep. They will dream of happy butterflies and smiley faces, footballs and baseball games. You open the door just a smidgen so it reveals your little baby boy or girl sweetly smiling to the ceiling. You shut the door and think to yourself, “They are safe.”