Image Courtesy of Gun Rights Policy Conference, 2024
The Price of Disarmament: Why Women Deserve the Right to Defend Themselves Anywhere
Kerrie Ann Auclair
Board of Directors, Second Amendment Institute
January 6, 2025
As a woman traveling across cities to defend civil rights, advocate for the Second Amendment, and represent organizations like the Second Amendment Institute (SAI), Gun Owners Action League (GOAL), and Women for Gun Rights (WGR), I often find myself vulnerable. Not because I lack courage or training but because laws that infringe upon my fundamental rights strip me of the right to protect myself.
Candy, a fellow member of Women for Gun Rights, endured a terrifying ordeal during a fly-in to DC, staying in Arlington, VA. While leaving her hotel room, she was chatting with her husband and forgot to check the peephole before stepping into the hallway.
As she opened the door, she saw a man across the hall with a dog. Thinking nothing of it, she continued down the hallway but suddenly heard heavy footsteps rushing behind her. She was violently knocked to the ground. Turning quickly, she yelled, “Woah, woah, woah!” while still on the phone with her husband. Startled by the situation unfolding, her husband shouted loudly through the phone, his concerned voice filling the air.
The man, seemingly panicked that she wasn’t alone, stammered an excuse about playing fetch with his dog. Maintaining her composure, Candy told her husband, “I’ll meet you at the elevator in three minutes,” even though he was in another state. It was her only defense, hoping the man would believe help was nearby.
The ordeal didn’t end there. After a long day advocating with WGR, Candy returned to her hotel room late at night, exhausted. Unbeknownst to her, her hotel door hadn’t shut completely when she left earlier in the day. The same man had entered her room and invaded her privacy, leaving disturbing evidence of his presence. Though Candy was unharmed physically, the violation and vulnerability she felt were profound.
Hearing Candy’s story, I couldn’t help but think: Why are we, law-abiding women, made so vulnerable? Why are we disarmed and left defenseless in moments when we need to protect ourselves most?
This isn’t just Candy’s experience; it’s mine and many other Women's. A few years ago, I traveled to Washington, D.C., for a WGR rally in front of the Supreme Court. As we stood together advocating for our freedoms that day, a homeless man hovered near us. Initially, his presence seemed harmless, but as the rally ended, we split into smaller groups to return to our hotel. To our dismay, this man began following one of our groups.
Unbeknownst to me, the homeless man followed one of the groups back to the hotel. As my group approached, we noticed him tailing the others. I was already at a disadvantage—
healing from a foot injury and using a medical boot and cane. My limited mobility slowed me down and made me appear even more vulnerable, the image of an easy target. Despite my injury, I pushed myself to move quickly, running into the hotel behind him to alert the ladies of the potential threat. I intended to bring attention to him and get them to look behind him and assess if he had something or was about to do something harmful. Distraction became my only tool of defense.
The other women quickly noticed him, and we joined as a unified group. Hotel security was called, and he was asked to leave. But the fear didn’t stop there. From my hotel room window on the fifth floor, I saw him outside, lingering beneath a tree, watching the entrance, waiting. It was a stark reminder that danger doesn’t disappear just because you’ve reached safety.
The day of the D.C. rally was already rife with tension. While we were meeting with congressional representatives, protests erupted on Capitol Hill, adding another layer of unease to our trip. Demonstrators gathered in large numbers to call for an Israel-Gaza ceasefire, and the atmosphere quickly grew charged. Police officers swarmed the area, streets were blocked, and tempers flared as activists clashed over the conflict. Walking through the chaos was unsettling, with people yelling and emotions running high. We had to make a beeline back to the hotel, navigating around the unrest, but even there, we found no sense of security.
As a law-abiding, trained, and certified firearms instructor, I have dedicated my life to teaching women how to protect themselves responsibly. Yet, in these moments of heightened risk, I was defenseless. Not because I was incapable but because I was disarmed by laws that treated me like a criminal instead of the law-abiding citizen I am.
I weigh 135 pounds and stand 5’4”. In situations where I’m physically outmatched, a firearm serves as the great equalizer, enabling me to protect myself against a stronger aggressor. Taking away that right strips me of the ability to level the playing field and forces me into a position of helplessness.
Women in the Second Amendment community are no strangers to danger. We travel extensively to protect our freedoms and advocate for our civil rights future. But the reality is stark: no guarantee we’ll come home. We live in a world where “it happens.” Every day, the news reminds us of the tragedies that befall the unprepared or the unarmed.
I refuse to be a victim, but what choice do I have when I’m legally forced to disarm? I train, I’m vetted, and I’m certified, yet I am asked to sacrifice my safety for the illusion of public security. It’s a sobering reality, especially as a mother of two teenagers. I fear that their freedoms—and mine—are slipping away.
Gun-free zones don’t make us safer; they make us targets. They embolden those who seek to harm because they know their victims will be defenseless. For women like me, who travel, advocate, and stand on the front lines of defending civil rights, being disarmed is not just an inconvenience; it’s a risk to our lives.
The right to self-defense is fundamental, and for women, it is critical. A firearm on a woman’s hip isn’t just a tool; it’s empowerment. It’s the difference between being a victim and surviving.
I don’t want to live in fear, but I also don’t want to live in a world where my ability to protect myself is taken from me by lawmakers who don’t understand what’s at stake. I’m not asking for special treatment but the right to defend myself—anywhere, anytime because my life and countless other women depend on it.
About the Author: Kerrie Ann Auclair is a dedicated firearms instructor and passionate advocate for the Second Amendment; as an NRA, USCCA, and SABRE Pepper Spray Instructor, as well as a Refuse to Be a Victim and Range Safety Officer, Kerrie Ann has spent years empowering women to protect themselves and their loved ones. Her work is driven by one simple belief: education and empowerment are the keys to ensuring the safety and freedom of future generations.