Seasons of safety
NS September 14th, 2009
I took up running a couple months ago and was doing really well with it up until two weeks ago. The first week I didn’t go at all was due to a combination of TNB’s illness (tonsilitis) and previously scheduled nights out. Last week’s inertia was mainly due to TNH’s work schedule and the sudden change in sunset. It seems like just yesterday it was light until 10pm; now it’s pitch black by eight.
As a woman who has had nighttime safety drilled into her head from a young age, I didn’t think twice about automatically assuming this meant I couldn’t go running past that hour. But today, as I ran in the park with TNC and felt my feet pounding the ground, a strong desire to get back on track overcame me. But when would I run? TNH usually doesn’t get home until close to 7.30. By the time I change into my running clothes and do a couple things relating to the kids’ bedtimes (7.30 is the absoloute worst time to try to get out of the house) it’s already nearing complete dark.
And as much as I know that my area of London is pretty safe and that, in theory, I should be okay for a half hour on suburban streets when there are still people out and about, a knife of apprehension still twists itself in my stomach. What should I wear, do, or take with me to prevent an attack? Which route would be the least dangerous and in the most well-lit and high-traffic areas? Should I not listen to my iPod so that I can be more aware of strange noises behind me? What should I do if I suspect someone is following me or shouts at me from a passing car? Am I crazy for even considering running at night?
This is what a woman’s thoughts turn to as summer turns to autumn and the night closes in nearer on both sides of wakefullness. These are the questions we ask ourselves as we assess how safely we can access our communities now that the daylight hours are receding.
This is what we have to think about every single year, every single month, every single day. And it’s bloody exhausting.
I have to wonder if men, even feminist men, can ever really grasp what it’s like to constantly assess our actions and routes and words to prevent violent crime being perpetrated against us. It’s something that is hard not to be worn down by, and to become more cynical and bitter about. We may have the right to work and vote and do a lot of other things that used to be the exclusive privilege of men, but we still don’t have the privilege of walking freely and without fear of assault, or comment. Because it’s not just about the restrictions that nightfall bring, but the constant barrage of sexism and exertion of power over us, year round.
In the summer, we fear wearing a dress or a top that is too revealing, even if the weather is unbearably hot, lest we are catcalled and groped by leering passerby whose aggressions seem to rise in conjunction with the temperature.
In the winter, as the elements make car breakdowns and accidents more likely, we freeze in fear at the thought of accepting help from a stranger and would rather sit in our icy, broken cars while we wait hours for the orange flashing lights of the accredited and vetted roadside cavalry, doors locked and fingers on the panic button of our mobile phones.
In the spring, as everyone comes pouring back onto sidealk cafes and parks and out of the stupor of hibernation, smiles and comments about the lovely weather between strangers have to be monitored and reined in for fear that exhanging passing pleasantries will give a man the ‘wrong impression’ and invite him to pester us for a date or a number or a smile.
As women, our seasons are not ones of calendars and turns of weather, but of shadow and light, cold and hot, open and enclosed spaces. As women, we are still denied the liberty of safe, free range motion without fear of bodily harm and social repurcussions.
So I can’t help but feel a bit like a caged hen, a battery chicken, as I look out my window at the autumnal city streets and then forlornly at the running shoes gathering dust at the front door.
Post-feminist world, indeed.
- Feminist Fury , Health and Fitness , I Bitch Therefore I Am , Londonista
- Comments(13)
What timing. This is a great post. I am just now, at 31 years of age, realizing that the metabolism has slowed, the pants don’t fit, and I need to do something about it. I have contemplated joining the gym down the street, but I would go before work, and now it’s dark until 7am. If I go afterward, I’d definitely be walking a few blocks home in the dark. Or I could go running myself, but that’s a little iffy in my neighborhood. Where I live in DC is just on the cusp of some rougher areas (murder, rape, or aggravated assault on an almost daily basis). And I completely hear you about headphones; I refuse to wear them because of some scary situations in the past. It’s unbelievable, isn’t it? Every morning as I walk to the train, I see men running by, listening to music, shirt off, blissfully unaware of my seething jealousy and envy. Post-feminism, my arse.
I think unless you live in a thoroughly dodgy area of London, you are completely fine. I walked through London, Oxford, Birmingham, Manchester late at night in the dark and never had the slightest problem anywhere, nor even the threat of one. I travelled on near empty tube trains and night buses, and if anything there was a late night sense of community.
I’ve had this EXACT conversation with my husband several times. He doesn’t believe it’s “that bad” and that I could defend myself. … I know, right? In his defense, he says that I am a really strong woman and he has a hard time imagining me being hurt or overpowered by a man. I’ve tried to tell him that even a smaller man, if bent on truly hurting me, is most likely physically stronger than me.
I’ve spent my entire adult life taking ridiculous risks (once even derisively asking a strange man if he was going to rape me to get him to stop touching me in unwanted ways – it worked. He backed down at my anger and taunting, believe it or not), but I will never walk down a dark alley alone. I’ll never leave the house unlocked when at home alone. I’ll never open the door to a strange man. I’ve even pretended to have entire cell phone conversations in a nearby park because I sensed someone was following me and I was terrified and in the middle of no where.
I believe that men have NO IDEA the everyday fear a woman lives with. We must for our very survival because simply being a woman puts us at risk.
Its a chasm between the sexes – I don’t think any man can ever understand that icy feeling when you realised you have pushed the safety envelope just a bit too far, even if its only taking a commuter train home a bit later than usual and finding it emptier than it should be (or fuller of drunks than it should be)
Its not that we are seeking to find danger behind every tree and in every shadow but that we are more vulnerable to those dangers and have to live with that awareness
i’m having the same thoughts as the season is changing to fall and it’s getting darker earlier. i’m lucky in the fact that we now have a workout room in one of the office buildings where i work, so i can go there for free in the evenings once it gets too dark to exercise outside. still, it seems ridiculous that in this day and age women have to be so hypersensitive and cautious about being out and about after dark, even in the “safe” neighborhoods. sadly, i don’t think this is something that is going to change so we have to do what we feel is necessary to ensure our safety. *sigh*
I get that fear every time I’m late out of work and hurry through the car park in the dark, especially if my car is the only one left. I don’t think I have ever felt so vulnerable as when I was very pregnant, couldn’t move quickly and had to climb several flights of stairs every night in a deserted car park to get to my car. It would be wonderful not to have to worry about my personal safety on a daily basis, whether those fears are justified or not.
The irony is that by staying off the streets at night we make it harder for women who have little choice but to walk home after dark as they draw attention to themselves because they are fewer in number. But I am not suggested women should go alone if they don’t feel safe.
Any neighbours/local friends you can run with so you’re not alone? I know it’s not ideal but better than being cooped up.
I used to walk home alone late at night when I couldn’t afford taxis and there were no buses. I did so because I knew the neighbourhood, wore footwear I could run in, stuck to the middle of paths (out of reach of passing vehicles and being grabbed from side alleys) and wasn’t too proud to take to muttering myself so passersby would think I was mad rather than available plus the fact anger used to roll off me in waves because I didn’t see why men had the freedom to walk alone but women didn’t.
I once met up with colleagues in a bar ten minutes walk from my home and they were amazed I was walking and would only let me go after I promised to text them when I was safely home. But it was where I lived and if I didn’t feel safe in my own village, where would I feel safe?
We live in yokelville so I think that some fears here are less. I don’t go out much in the evening it has to be said but when I do I don’t feel afraid. I used to stride around Portsmouth at night in big boots and with my head held high at all hours with my radar on red alert and my boldness as armour.
As a young adult I feared my own (now ex) husband in my own home more than I feared strangers outside. Sadly many other women will also know what that means.
Now if I am out late at night I feel that sense of hyper-awareness-but-not-yet-fear still. I love the darkness and the quiet and the stillness here. I love the stars and the moon and the feeling that I am part of something bigger than just what is in my own head.
I feel that society is becoming less and less trusting. Children are taught not to trust adults, women are not to trust potential partners, the state does not trust parents, teachers or doctors to do right unless they have a list to check and there is now a growing mistrust of state and its services.
As a human I feel that I have to trust other humans. I trust that the streets are filled with people who want to be trusted but are afraid to offer help or kindness less it be misconstrued. This may be a risk in the modern world but I see small acts of kindness and care every day so I am willing to believe that the world is good at heart.
I can’t tell you to run or not to run but the winter will be long and dark so you need to find a way to get out to keep yourself sane.
It’s cool that you’ve taken up running. Doesn’t t make you feel so free? I used to love it, but I haven’t done more than a few 3 mile jogs since I was 18 weeks pregnant, over a year and a half ago. In the summer I was happy to run until 9pm or so, but I know the difficulty of running on winter evenings. Putting aside the bigger issue you are writing about and just talking about running, I used to be fine on winter evenings as long as I stuck to well lit streets. But that spoils half of it – green fields are what I love. Though if you’re in that there London, I don’t suppose there are too many of them around anyway.
Happy running!
I have made your same argument a million times. You are so correct. And don’t forget about parking lots. Not only having to look under your own car, but the car next to yours. Maybe the solution is to run with a crowbar. Extra cardio for you, warning to others.
The vast majority of unprovoked attacks in public are perpetrated against men.
One of your commenters says “I feel that society is becoming less and less trusting.”
Exactly right. One reason for this is that we’re taught to think in categories. Identity politics is one of the great evils of the age, because it atomises society and creates divisions between people.
Hello there! I’ve wandered over here from A Free Man’s site and I’m a runner too. I’m lucky in that I’m a teacher so I’m usually home before dark and even in winter here I’ve been able to run before it gets dark. I’d be pretty reluctant to run at night, even though I live in country Australia and it would probably be perfectly safe.
I do know what you mean about the need to be extra alert. I went to the UK alone earlier in the year for a couple of months and while I was super paranoid in the beginning, I did relax eventually when I realised that, essentially, nobody pays that much attention to you and that you’d have to be pretty unfortunate or be taking terrible risks for anything to happen to you.
Having said all that though, I do understand exactly where you’re coming from. And it is hard to trust people, but I guess you just have to believe that most people are just like you, good and honest and always try to do the right thing.
@Hoover – Men may be targetted for unprovoked attacks in greater numbers, but that’s not the entire point. It’s not just the threat of actually being beaten or abducted or raped that puts the fear into women, but also the fear of being followed, harassed, shouted at, leered at or just generally intimidated, which are much more common than any physical attacks men may endure. It’s a generally inhospitable environment for women at night in many areas and instances, a fact taken advantage of and preyed on by men who derive pleasure or power from perpetuating women’s fear of them. That’s not to say that all men do this, or that all women have experienced it, but it’s not just about physical violence, but the threat of it that makes going out alone at night worrisome.