Author’s Note: It’s come to my attention that lots of people didn’t note that the event with the group of young men I describe below didn’t take place in Hartford. I thought the location was irrelevant, as this behavior happens everywhere, but apparently I was wrong. The post isn’t about Hartford anyway. It’s about fear, and the fact that we judge others for their fears. But most of you got that. Thanks.
On Wednesday I took the afternoon off from work to participate in a discussion of ways to use empty space in downtown Hartford. A group of 10 interested people met at JoJos.
As the discussion warmed up, one of the participants gestured out toward Pratt Street and said something like “As a woman, I’d be afraid to walk on that street alone at night.” I twitched a little and locked eyes with my companion at the table. “Empty storefronts don’t make me feel safe,” the woman went on to explain.
Uhhh…um…uhh…
Fair enough?
Yes. Fair enough. It has to be.
Are you afraid of spiders?
Once upon a time my hackles would’ve gone up and I would’ve jumped at the opportunity to argue about perception versus reality, the role of the media in perpetuating negative stereotypes, our culture of fear.
Today, I can’t do that. Who am I to tell someone what they should and shouldn’t be afraid of? Who am I to believe that everyone should feel as I do?
What changed?
Simply this: I lived in a place where I felt very, very afraid.
It wasn’t in Hartford. It doesn’t matter where it was, actually. The fact is, I felt afraid. For the first time, after living in cities for 26 years, I felt afraid.
And I also found myself getting angry when someone told me I shouldn’t be afraid. And angrier still when someone told me I was simply unfamiliar with living in an urban setting.
Are you afraid of clowns?
Excuse me?
OK. You believe that if it makes you feel better.
Truth of the matter is, once upon a time there was a drive-by shooting in my neighborhood. Was it scary? Sure, at the time. But guess what? The next day I was sitting on my front porch as if it had never happened.
And my house was broken into a couple of times. Was it scary? Actually, not for me. I’d been out of town. But the fact that the kid who was watching my cats was in the house with two criminals, one of whom had a history of violence, was scary as hell. But again, guess what? Soon I was hanging at home as if it had never happened. And the kid was happy to look after the cats again the next time I went away.
Are you afraid of honey badgers?
I’ve wandered around Barry Square, Downtown, the West End, Asylum Hill and Frog Hollow. All by myself. At night. Holding a backpack full of tech. Wearing really expensive jewelry. Strapped into shoes that weren’t made for running. Carrying $1200 in my wallet.
I’ve done this at high alert, for sure. Confident, bold, spine erect, footsteps purposeful and strong. Those are some of the rules. Others include at the very least making eye contact with the people I pass. Ideally I have an opportunity to greet them.
I never felt stupid or like I was taking unreasonable risks for doing any of those things. I was doing what I want to do or have to do in the place where I live. (Or don’t live, like New York or Boston, Athens or Dublin. All potentially scary places when you’re alone at night.)
Are you afraid of empty streets?
I say I never felt stupid. Part of that is because I wouldn’t do anything stupid. Not on purpose anyway.
For example I was in a new place wondering where I might find tennis courts with a practice wall. A couple of guys told me there was a court with a practice wall down on Whatever Street. Near the highway overpass.
Whir. Click. Tick tick tick. (The sound of me thinking.)
“I wouldn’t go down there by myself,” I said.
“What are you talking about?” one of them responded in a tone I used to use. “Everyone thinks this place is more dangerous than it is. It’s just perception.”
Are you afraid to be under the highway?
Yup. Correct.
I perceive that it would be stupid of me to go to a place I know to be sparsely populated, peppered with abandoned buildings, in the shadows of a highway, armed with only a tennis racquet, by myself.
I’m not afraid of cities but I’m not stupid.
But let me tell you about the time I was afraid.
Really, really afraid.
I had just left my apartment with Gracie, my dog. We were going to take our mile-long early evening walk. There was a group of young men coming up the street behind me. I went on alert – straightening my posture, putting intention behind every footstep. I felt uneasy and gripped Gracie’s leash like a security blanket.
The young men quickened their pace and started talking, ostensibly to each other, but in reality to me. They talked about what they were going to do to me. To Gracie. They said they were going to take her away from me. They said they were going to tie me up. They described what they were going to do with each of my arms, each of my legs. They described exactly how they were going to rape me. What I would say. What they would say. What it would sound like. How it would tear me in half.
Are you afraid of what men say to you on the street?
I wasn’t even ten steps from my apartment door. In other words, I was home.
Recounting this incident later I was astounded by the reactions. Very few people were sympathetic. I was told I had overreacted. I was told that I just didn’t know what it was like to live in the city. I was told that they were “just trying to scare me.”
Just trying to scare me.
Apparently being violently verbally harassed wouldn’t have scared my critics. Just as walking down Pratt Street alone at night wouldn’t scare me.
Which is why I say today, I’m sorry that we live in a world that scares us. I’m sorry that we live in a world that threatens women and girls particularly, such that we have to have rules for walking down the street.
And I’m truly sorry if I ever jumped down your throat for expressing your fear.
You shouldn’t be afraid to do that.
Interesting. I don’t necessarily agree with the conclusions you’ve reached, but what stood out most was what one woman said: “As a woman, I’d be afraid to walk on that street alone at night.”
I’m sort of perplexed by the phrasing, though. And this is not by any means the first time I’ve seen something prefaced with “as a woman, I ____.” What does that mean?
Is “as a woman” shorthand for “I fear being dragged into an alley and raped”? If so, then I think it’d be more powerful to not mince words, to say what needs to be said.
I am a woman and I feel safe walking alone, at night, on Pratt Street. But it would not be accurate to say “as a woman, I feel safe walking alone, at night, on Pratt Street.” My feelings about safety and any particular place reflect myself, and not those feelings of an entire gender.
Interesting point about fear being “gender”-free. I’m not sure I agree with that.
I feel perfectly comfortable walking down Pratt Street at night under most conditions. You’re right, it doesn’t matter whether I’m male or female.
But what happened to me with that group of young men happened because of my sex.
What am I afraid of? Groups of young men. No matter where. No matter what they look like. If I were walking down Pratt Street alone, day or night, and encountered a group of young men, I’d be very, very nervous.
I didn’t intend for this post to be about women and fear, or people who claim that a whole class of people should be afraid based on membership in that class.
I was trying (perhaps unsuccessfully) to talk about how what we fear differs, and that if someone says that she’s afraid to walk down a street, for whatever reason, I shouldn’t respond in a way that makes her afraid to speak up in the future (or regret that she spoke up in the first place).
I’ve done that to people, because up until now I was fearless. No empathy. No compassion. Just judgment.
No longer.
You raise a valid point. People should be allowed to be comfortable with their fears, concerns and intuition. Unless they are truly irrational, these things represent our first defense mechanism, the only one that we have with us at all times.
Fantastic essay. I am guilty of judging others for what they fear, especially with regards to Hartford. To me, their announcement of their fear of Hartford is them judging me on my choice to live here. So there we are, judging each other. And which of us is right?
I love this, and think it’s an important reminder (as others have said above) that people shouldn’t be judged for their fears, though they may not be shared by others. I hope to remember this post in the future and lessen my judgement of others.
However I also think it’s valid to help educate people, in certain situations, if their fear really is ungrounded (or at least not based on personal experience but based on fearmongering by others). I didn’t move to the city as an adult, I came here as a child. Going to public school in Hartford I often heard from other “Aren’t you afraid of getting shot??” and my parents usually got looks as if their acquaintances felt they should be calling DCF. The irony is that the relative lack of drugs, alcohol, and cars in my school probably resulted in my having a much safer experience than many of my friends outside the city, who were attending house parties and being offered drugs on a regular basis.
In 1995 2 friends who loved the undefeated UCONN women’s bball team almost more than life itself were not allowed to come to the Victory parade on a Sunday afternoon because it was in Hartford (even though my parents offered to host them). I just cannot view that as a valid fear. That’s an insult to my home and a judgement on how I live, in addition to being groundless, prejudice, and a whole host of other negative adjectives. In these instances I think it’s fair to challenge peoples’ misconceptions, and hopefully in the end reduce the level of fear we all feel.
I agree that there are certain things that should be challenged, in particular ignorance about race and class, and also what media-tainment feeds us.
The point for me is that I’ve learned to stop angry, knee-jerk reactions (I hope), in favor of trying to hear what people are saying. That way we can have conversations (I hope) rather than accusatory You’re-an-Idiot Fests.
Fear isn’t always rational, though. I mean really, groups of young men make me feel exceptionally nervous? I know that has something to do with my younger self’s experiences, but I’m a grown-up now. I’d like to be able to let that go and assume goodwill. I try. I really do. But I can’t.
That doesn’t feel rational and it makes me sad.
“If I were walking down Pratt Street alone, day or night, and encountered a group of young men, I’d be very, very nervous”…
Imagine it is noontime on a Wednesday, men and woman strolling during lunchtime, couples (all types) holding hands, and few sweet looking pooches behaving on leashes, and a group (3, 4, 5?)of young Reid and Riege associates (happens to be just males)dressed in seersucker suits with bowties (OK, a little much but possible) have escaped from their office to get a double shot latte from Jo Jo’s before heading back to get 6 more hours of billable time in before the day is out – AND YOU FEEL VERY VERY NERVOUS?
Julie: You aren’t doing much for Hartford’s image, or your own for that matter, but please speak to Emily, and tell us all you got a little carried away.
If I were surrounded by all of those people, I wouldn’t be alone now, would I?
(1) Julie doesn’t need to talk to me about anything. Her essay is about her feelings and her perceptions. We respect each other’s feelings and perceptions.
(2) The whole point of this essay is how Julie’s experience changed her perception. I haven’t had that experience. Neither (I hope) have you. So our perceptions are different. And that’s OK.
(3) See Julie’s reply above.
(4) Also, if 3 or 4 male associates from my firm are all dressed in seersucker and getting loaded up on caffeine — I might be afraid. Not in the same way Julie was afraid, but afraid nevertheless.
There’s some sleight of hand involved here: one obviously doesn’t know the backstory of each person one passes on the street. In any event, this red herring misses the point of the post: that it was a personal realization that she came to regarding her reaction (much like yours) to people who expressed fear – real or imagined – at being in certain situations in Hartford.
The reality is that that perception of Hartford exists, warranted or otherwise. It isn’t that people who experience fear or hesitation need to ‘get over themselves and realize how awesome Hartford is’ but rather that they need to be educated that their perception – while real – is misguided.
I agree with many of the points Julie addresses. Whenever I am out, day or night, I try to be aware of who is around me. I fully admit to sometimes being afraid of groups of young men.
The last time I was truly afraid in a situation was last week. I was driving through West Hartford toward Bloomfield, I was being followed closely by a car. I had come to a stop behind another car turning left. There was no room to the right to move around, so I stopped. When I checked my rear view mirror, I could see that the driver of the car behind me shaking his head, and I could tell he was swearing – he was angry at me for stopping. Once I continued on in traffic, the car kept speeding up & slowing down, almost tailgating me. Finally, I got to a part of the road with 4 lanes, so he was able to pass me. As he stopped at the red light, he turned around and full out glared at me. Maybe I had no reason to be, as I was in my car, but I was really afraid of the look on that man’s face. Once the light turned green, he actually turned to glare at me again. I was thankful for the green light, for sure.
I apologize if that made no sense. My point is mostly that fear is completely subjective and happens sometimes where you least expect it.