Some Reflections on How Women Might Feel

A few nights ago, I decided to take a stroll. It was a beautiful night; it was peaceful; there were thousands of stars. The only sound was from my footsteps on the sidewalk . . . a little wind . . . a few insects of some kind. It wasn't until after I got home that I realized that this, tragically, was a uniquely male experience.

To be honest, I don't remember the last time I was afraid for my physical safety. When I decided to take a walk, I never once wondered if I would be safe in doing so. I felt like going, so I went.

Men who read this will just nod; women won't. The idea of going out alone, at night, is simply not an option for most of them. And the small percentage of women who do go for a walk -- how many of them bring some form of protection -- a dog or a weapon of some kind? Most of them, probably. But none of that even occurred to me.

Make no mistake. I'm no martial-arts expert. I'm certainly no Terminator, like Arnold Schwarzenegger pretended to be when he was actually committing several acts of criminal sexual misconduct. I really have only one advantage when it comes to being safe in the dark: I'm male.

Imagine, for a minute, a woman who is a national Karate champion. In a confrontation with me, she would drop me in less than five seconds. Imagine further if she was some sort of weapons expert, and had her favorite weapon with her. Would she feel as safe as I did?

No.

Now, there may very well be a female karate champion, and it could be that she takes a walk by herself late at night, and that she feels as relaxed as I did. But I doubt it. The female karate champion would probably make a quick risk-analysis, and decide that she could handle anything that comes her way. I did no risk analysis; didn't even think of it.

No matter how physically prepared the female karate champion is, the question of safety would be on her mind. She would be prepared to defend herself, to make life-or-death decisions if necessary.

Meanwhile, I was thinking, "Look at the pretty stars!"

As I mentioned, this state of relaxation was due to the fact that I am male. Therefore, my chances of being selected as a target for violence are extremely small. But a woman, walking alone, has a far higher chance of being targeted. The sight of a woman walking alone at night even suggests violence to some males in our society!

Even if the female karate champion disposed of her attackers quickly and easily, there's no doubt that her relaxing stroll would be ruined. I walked home, humming. She would be at the police station, making a statement. I'd like to think that she would be praised for her gutsy acts of self defense. But before the incident is over, I'll bet that at least one person -- likely another woman -- would ask, in an accusatory tone, what she was doing out there all by herself.

I remember the heavyweight boxing championship when Mike Tyson bit off part of Evander Holyfield's ear. I mentioned it to my staff at the women's crisis center. I pointed out that, while both Tyson and Holyfield were superb athletes in top physical condition, Mike Tyson's biting abilities were probably not much more developed than an average person's. And yet, Evander Holyfield was disabled by the pain.

Was that, I asked, something we should teach women in our self-defense classes? Was that a good tactic to use against rapists?

Their reaction was not enthusiastic. "No matter what a woman does, if she survives a rape, she did the right thing," they said. "But I wouldn't be comfortable recommending biting his ear off. The courts might award damages to the rapist. You just don't know what the courts will do." I was stunned into silence.

So anyway, I finished my walk. I stopped and stared at Mars; wished I could see it close-up. Everything was peaceful. The walk had relaxed me. I was ready to go to sleep.

When we talk about violence against women, we usually talk about domestic violence, or sexual assault, or something similar. We don't usually reflect on the more common, basic deprivations of civil rights that women have suffered. My pleasant night-time stroll was something that simply is not an option for the vast majority of women.

We lecture women about safety; we teach them about violence; we train them to look at the world with fear. All of that is necessary, I suppose. It's the way things are.

But I think we need to remember that it is an outrage. And once in awhile, it's important that men and women get really damned mad about it.