Imagine this: you're walking home late one night. The
darkness of the night enfolds you. The mist and lights play games in your mind,
casting dancing shadows in front of you. You hear a rustle of leaves. A crunch
of rubbish. Clip, clip clip. Footsteps quickening behind you. Your heart races
as you pull your head phones from your ears. Throat constricted, hands sweaty.
You quicken your pace and listen for those footsteps behind you...
Whilst some of you may read this paragraph and scoff (what a
wuss...) Streets? Safety? What of it?I feel oh so safe on my meanderings with a
few kick boxing classes under my belt.
I, however, am not one of those people. I have had numerous
experiences of not feeling safe when I'm out alone at night.
Whilst the walk home, to the pub or a friend's house may be
care free and easy for you, for many, even here in Sydney it is not the case.
And this is not an issue that is isolated to woman. It is one that can be
experienced by anyone regardless of gender, age, location and race. But being a
lady and all, I have decided to write this from my feminine perspective.
After walking home late one night, (it may have been from
the Townie but...ahem...lets not go into that) enduring cat calls and one guy
following me for a few blocks, muttering his drunken rant of where he would
like to take me and what he would like to do to me, I arrived home utterly
shaken. After chatting to friends about it the following day it became clear
that this kind of thing happens with startling regularity. Whilst it is an
issue that, in most cases, is not life threatening it is one that we should not
have to endure. It got me thinking about feeling safe in your neighbourhood and
in the spaces and places you live in.
Whilst you may be thinking, where is my faith in the human
race as I cynically suspect every second
person I pass at night may be a danger or a threat. The statistics fuel the fire of my
pessimistic view (?). The Australian Institute of Criminology identifies that
at least 20% of women encounter violence at the hands of a stranger annually.
This isn't even to mention the stats on domestic violence against women, verbal
abuse or experiences of what is commonly termed and prosecuted as assault
(which can be even the mere feeling of being threatened or your safety in
jeopardy).
I am not trying to suggest that women should become uptight,
super-vigilantes, fly kicking every person that comes near them.
Rather, something a little more modest. An increased
awareness of the statistics and advocating amongst your friends for safety in
numbers and the ol' text me when your home safe trick. And if you are one of
the people who have never had an experience of feeling unsafe in your
environment, take a moment to consider the women who have.
The question I pose to you, dear reader, is how do we go
about making ourselves and each other feel safer in a society that can feel so
unsafe?
Meri Stuebe
