By Rebecca Gunderson, TIWP Student

She looked over her shoulder in the dark alley. He strutted through it, a bounce in his step. She sat in the corner of the room. He plopped down front and center. She held her tongue in the heated discussion. He spoke over everyone else. She sat at the restaurant, legs crossed, spine straight. He sat at the restaurant, legs splayed out, elbows rested on the table. She did not react to the car cutting her off. He spat out foul language and tailgated the car. She kept her head down in class. He blurted out his opinions at every opportunity. She was not taken seriously. He was.