Submission: UCPD must not deny assistance to those unaffiliated with UCLA

Hazard lights.

On a Wednesday night unlike any other, that’s what drew me in. Running through Westwood’s winding streets like I’d done dozens of times before, I saw those hazard lights and stopped to help the driver propped up against his car looking distressed.

Unfortunately, this was not the end of the story. Instead of a quick stop to help a stranger, my run ended with a knife wound to my stomach, a cut to my face and being robbed of my iPod and watch. One hour with the police and three hours in the ER later, I figured the worst of it had to be over.

What I’ve found since then is that, while physically all that remains is a new scar across my stomach, mentally the weeks after the attack were some of the worst I’ve ever had.

I’ve felt exhausted, unable to get more than two to three hours of sleep at night. On the select few nights I’ve been able to get more, that sleep has been interrupted by nightmares of what happened.

I’ve felt alone, despite a seemingly never-ending swell of love and support from my friends and family, because no matter what people said they couldn’t understand what I was going through.

I’ve felt guilty for struggling to get back to normal when across the world – in Paris, Syria, Jerusalem and more – people are struggling to survive far worse fates than my own.

I’ve felt like a liar, putting on a brave face for my family and friends to assuage their worries, because if I seemed able to move on quickly they could too.

I’ve felt upset because, for the first time in my life, I feel uncomfortable at UCLA. UCLA was my dream school since I was a little girl. But now, I feel a pang of dread on my commute to Westwood, for my false sense of security being at my home away from home has crumbled.

Perhaps most importantly, I’ve felt disheartened and betrayed by the school I have loved all my life. This is because even though I graduated in June, still work on campus and spend more time at UCLA than I do at home, this wasn’t enough to warrant help from UCPD. Sitting in my friend’s apartment, bleeding and shaken up and crying, the answer I got from the UCPD operator was: “Sorry, you are no longer affiliated with UCLA. We can’t help you.” Instead, they told me to contact the West LAPD, which with the more than hour-long wait it took to report the attack and give a statement made me feel like little more than an afterthought. Despite all this negativeness, however, I don’t want this to define me and prevent me from living my life. Maybe I will never fully get back to my old normal, and will wrestle with this for a long time. What I do know is that my attack was out of my control. All I can control now is what happens next.

I can look for the silver lining and be grateful that despite this traumatic experience, nothing worse happened. I wouldn’t wish having a knife shoved into one’s face and gut upon anyone, but given the far more sinister alternatives, I am thankful that I’m healthy and not much worse for the wear.

As an aspiring physician, I can use this incident to be a more compassionate, empathetic person. I didn’t know the pain of Alzheimer’s disease until I saw my only grandfather gradually lose all memory of my family and me. I didn’t know the heartbreak of cancer until I sat up until 3 a.m. with my old boyfriend, attempting, but failing to comfort him as we cried over his father’s cancer diagnosis. And I didn’t fully understand the shock, fear and hopelessness that I saw on the faces of attack victims in UCLA’s Emergency Department where I shadow, but I do now, and will be able to stand by future patients better because of this.

I can serve as a cautionary tale for other Bruins to be safer and more aware of their surroundings, and can call on UCLA and UCPD to do a far better job protecting its students and community. We are blessed to be at one of the best universities in the nation, but that doesn’t stop bad people from doing bad things. Being attacked within walking distance of campus and being denied help by the people whose job is to protect us doesn’t exemplify the True Bruin values – Integrity, Excellence, Accountability, Respect and Service – we are taught to strive for.

Lastly, I can take the advice of a great friend and realize this: It’s okay not to be okay. It may have taken a few weeks to sink in, but coming to grips with realizing a terrible thing happened and being okay with where I am at in the coping process has helped me immensely.

Stay safe and rock on, fellow Bruins.

Krasnoff graduated in 2015 with a degree in psychobiology.