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towanda would know what to say here
Nov. 23rd, 2011 01:32 amSaturday before last, I spent the afternoon and most of the evening at Occupy. I'll tell you about that some other time. There's one bit sticking in my head that needs out, so that's the story you get to hear.
At the end of my day, around 11Pm or so, I made to head back to my car. The person I'd palled up with as sort of protest buddies (ALWAYS KNOW WHERE YOUR PROTEST BUDDY IS) didn't like this idea one bit, me going alone, and arranged for one of the men there to walk me to my car. About five of them volunteered, which was nice, though I really could have done without the mic check involved.
Anyway. My car was all of two city blocks away, in a parking lot on the other side of the museum next to the park, and on the way there I chatted with my impromptu escort.
I said, "I'm sorry you have to do this." Because I was, for so many different reasons.
He said something like - that's okay, you know, times like these everyone has to be more careful. There was more to it, I don't remember what.
I don't remember because I wanted so badly to explain that what I meant was that I wish the fact of my body being female didn't automatically make it dangerous for me to walk alone at eleven on a Saturday night. Or that I don't want to have to be constantly alert, on edge, nervous, goddamn-near paranoid, because if anything does happen it'll automatically be my fault. Or that instead of telling people, "don't get attacked," we should be telling them, "don't attack others." Or the fact that if I speak up about this I am some kind of hateful violent evil terrorist wossit who wants to sacrifice everything with a Y chromosome to a volcanic mother-goddess and bathe in their blood. Or the fact that, again, going back to the configuration of my body, its particular arrangement of organs means that I need to fear people who assume it is theirs for the taking, just orifices, just meat. The fact that sometimes when I say I wish I was a cyborg robot I am honestly not fucking kidding because then I wouldn't have to deal with all of this shit anymore. Or -- you know. All of it. Just, everything. There are so many things, and I didn't know how to make it concise for a well-meaning guy who had no idea, and instead I choked under the weight of it all and said nothing.
"Yeah," I said instead. "It is pretty rough for everyone."
At the end of my day, around 11Pm or so, I made to head back to my car. The person I'd palled up with as sort of protest buddies (ALWAYS KNOW WHERE YOUR PROTEST BUDDY IS) didn't like this idea one bit, me going alone, and arranged for one of the men there to walk me to my car. About five of them volunteered, which was nice, though I really could have done without the mic check involved.
Anyway. My car was all of two city blocks away, in a parking lot on the other side of the museum next to the park, and on the way there I chatted with my impromptu escort.
I said, "I'm sorry you have to do this." Because I was, for so many different reasons.
He said something like - that's okay, you know, times like these everyone has to be more careful. There was more to it, I don't remember what.
I don't remember because I wanted so badly to explain that what I meant was that I wish the fact of my body being female didn't automatically make it dangerous for me to walk alone at eleven on a Saturday night. Or that I don't want to have to be constantly alert, on edge, nervous, goddamn-near paranoid, because if anything does happen it'll automatically be my fault. Or that instead of telling people, "don't get attacked," we should be telling them, "don't attack others." Or the fact that if I speak up about this I am some kind of hateful violent evil terrorist wossit who wants to sacrifice everything with a Y chromosome to a volcanic mother-goddess and bathe in their blood. Or the fact that, again, going back to the configuration of my body, its particular arrangement of organs means that I need to fear people who assume it is theirs for the taking, just orifices, just meat. The fact that sometimes when I say I wish I was a cyborg robot I am honestly not fucking kidding because then I wouldn't have to deal with all of this shit anymore. Or -- you know. All of it. Just, everything. There are so many things, and I didn't know how to make it concise for a well-meaning guy who had no idea, and instead I choked under the weight of it all and said nothing.
"Yeah," I said instead. "It is pretty rough for everyone."
