By Monique Beeler, Oakland Tribune Staff Writer

There's more to learning self-defense than aiming for an attacker's groin.

"Here, I'll show you," says 16-year-old Mallory Gilchrist of San Ramon, as she demonstrates a two-handed trust designed to whack an assailant in the nose or in the chest to knock him off balance.

It's a defensive tool that could help protect any girl growing up in a violent society, where one in six women survives a rape or attempted rape in her lifetime. The odds of being victimized soar for girls such as Mallory who also have developmental disabilities.

Mallory and eight other girls, ages 11 to 20, with conditions ranging from autism to Down syndrome, gathered on a recent Saturday at the San Ramon Senior Center for a session of "Girls Assertiveness Training."

Led by employees of Community Violence Solutions, a rape prevention and response program serving Contra Costa and Marin counties, the training introduces concepts such as what it means to be passive versus assertive. Participants also pick up specific techniques, from the stable stance to the palm heel smash, for fighting back if they are assaulted. CVS runs about 50 self-defense programs annually, including three to five geared toward people with disabilities.

Getting physical with an attacker, however, is the last resort, instructor Michele Marks tells the group.

" If you can run away, run away," she says. "(Fighting) is no the first thing you do. It's the last thing you do."

K.-Leigh Alfrey, of Walnut Creek, was a little nervous at the start of class, but the 17-year-old's shaking hands grew steadier as she became more comfortable with the class's interactive format.

K.-Leigh grows older and prepares for future independence, her mother, Lane worries about her daughter's ability to stand up for herself while riding a public bus or waking alone down a city street.

"I was feeling very much in need of a class to teach our girls to become more assertive, "Lane Alfrey says. "I think stats would show they are more vulnerable, easier targets.

The statistics about violence against girls and women with disabilities is chilling.

In 2000, the Institute on Community Integration at the University of Minnesota reported:

• People with developmental disabilities are at a 4 to 10 times higher risk of becoming crime victims compared to those without disabilities.

• Children with disabilities are approximately twice as likely to be physically or sexually abused.

• One researcher estimates that 90 percent of people with disabilities will be sexually victimized during their lives, but only around 3 percent of the crimes will be reported.

GIRLS CHALLENGED TO PRACTICE SHOUTING LOUDLY, STRIKING HARD

As the pair leads the group through mock attacks and exercises, such as escaping when grabbed by the wrist or pummeling a thick padded mat with a hammer fist, the girls join in with gusto.

Several thin-limbed participants have trouble making solid contact with the cushioned pads whey are instructed to pound or kick. Others clearly would give a predator pause.

"Grab me!" Mallory shouts during one practice run.

When a nearby student throws an arm around Mallory's neck, she pushed her away. "No, not you - a guy."

Goodman steps in to act as a bad guy attacking from behind. "ok, but don't kick me," he says.

As instructed, Mallory lift her leg high off the ground the stabs backward with her foot aimed toward his knee. It takes only 40 pounds to knock an assailant's knee out, the girls learn.

Because the girls have various physical and emotional limitations, they are invited to sit out if an exercise seems to rigorous or threatening.

The power yell - a loud "aahhh!" or "No!" - that Marks and Goodman teach the girls to use when striking an opponent causes a few students to plug their ears or huddle in chairs in a corner of the room.

"If you are scared and you think you can't do it let us know and you can take a pass," Goodman says.

While the class is designed to make the girls as comfortable as possible, they are also challenged to practice shouting loudly and striking as hard as they can. Instructors do their best to clarify techniques or misunderstandings during a question-and answer period toward the end of class.

"So, you can hit (someone) if they tease you?" asks Dasha Foos, 11, of Pleasanton.

"No, you shouldn't hit someone unless you think they're going to hurt you," Marks explains. "It's (for use against) people you don't know. Because if you're at school, there's someone you can tell and they can take care of it.

For this group, instructors pare down the usual six-or eight-hour course to about two hours, enough time to acquaint the girls with a basic understanding of how to stay safe, says Ruth Cashmere, director of prevention for CVS.

All assertiveness training participants, whether they have disabilities or not, are encouraged to practice their newfound self-defense techniques at home.

"What we don't do is after one class say that a person's going to know all the moves," Cashmere says. "We can't give guarantees."

Parents such as Lane Alfrey say they don't expect guarantees. But they would like to arm their daughters with the skills to be more self-assertive and aware of their surroundings, whether that means walking away from a threatening stranger on the street or turning down an unwanted invitation to dance.

"So often they're in a place where they become complacent and agreeable," Alfrey says. "They're becoming more integrated in the mainstream of life, and they need to learn about safe zones and how to say 'no'."

"I was feeling very much in need of a class to teach our girls to become more assertive. I think stats would show they are more vulnerable, easier targets"