I just got back from a run in the Arroyo Seco, just below the Rose Bowl. It’s a lovely Southern California afternoon, sunny and cool…
While approaching the finish of the run an hour ago, I was coming up through a fairly narrow, wooded, canyon area. The trail in this section is single-track. As I ran, I saw a young woman ahead of me, power-walking along. She was going in my direction, and she had headphones on. Normally, when a runner approaches a walker from behind, the polite thing to do is say loudly “on your right” or “on your left”, both to alert the person of one’s presence and to signify which side you intend to use to pass them. But this gal could not hear a thing. We were all alone in the canyon, and I worried that if I just whipped past her (with only an inch or two to spare on the tight trail) she would be startled and frightened. I tried making as much noise as I could as I came up behind her, but it was to no avail. When I finally did spurt past her, she jumped off the trail, raising her hands defensively and giving a small cry. I continued running, looking back over my shoulder, yelling “sorry” as loudly as I could. I didn’t stop.
First off, just let me say that real runners don’t wear headphones when they run. To do so implies that running itself is not a sufficiently entertaining experience. That’s not to say we don’t get bored on the long runs sometimes — we do — but to listen to music while trotting through nature is considered gauche in my circle. But more importantly, wearing headphones on a trail is a very, very stupid thing to do. I could easily have grabbed and assaulted this woman, and she would never have seen me coming. I feel guilty for having frightened her, but I’m also a bit annoyed with her for having put both of us in this uncomfortable situation!
One of the things I really emphasize to the young men with whom I work is the power of male privilege and the issue of fear. Most young men don’t think twice about walking into parking garages at night, alone. They don’t think twice about walking on trails wearing Walkmen. My goal is not, obviously, to make them afraid. My goal is to make them aware that their maleness gives them a degree of invulnerability and confidence that their sisters, for very good reasons, lack. And more importantly, I want my young men to examine their own past behavior for instances where they (inadvertantly, surely) their actions or words made a woman feel vulnerable and afraid. I don’t want to try and turn all of my guys into “knights in shining armor”. But I do stress to them just how important it is to be aware that their body language and their very words can sometimes cause women to feel unsafe — and that making women feel safe is at least partially their responsibility.
This does not resolve women of responsibility either. The woman on the trail needed to think more carefully about her surroundings and the terrain. Perhaps I should have stopped to apologize, but I feared making her feel still more frightened if I turned around and headed towards her. In the great scheme of things, it was a minor incident indeed. But it got me thinking, as small things sometimes do, about much bigger things.
It always is a good idea for young women to be alert when they’re walking alone in the dark, or alone period. I carry a flashlight with me if I’m out late - I can put on a pretty brave front, but I’m not always brave.
Not being a runner, I’d never thought about how a walkman might be unsafe running on trails. I think of my discman as protection during my commute to and from campus. Sometimes I have to take more than one bus and wait downtown to transfer or just wait on street corners for my bus where not everyone around me is exactly comforting and trustworthy. I pride myself on being aware of what is going on around me and having headphones on wards away a lot of people who hassle me on those days I forget my discman. There have been times where I’ve felt it prudent to turn off my music, but I almost always keep the headphones on in those situations.
I’ve always been angry that sometimes I do feel afraid to go places where my brother is not, and angrier still when I haven’t been frightened and have been scolded for venturing out alone. I was infamous for wandering the streets of Boston until curfew when I was there and my program counselor went nuts about it. Anyway, it’s comforting to me to know that there are men who are aware of that fear and are trying to make others aware of it.
This reminds me of an essay I studied and wrote on in high school and again in college - “Just Walk on By: A Black Man Ponders His Power to Alter Public Space,” by Brent Staples. As the title would indicate, it’s about race as much as, if not more than, masculinity, but the basic principle is there. Staples (whose sister, incidentally, worked with my mother for years) writes about how he’d whistle bits of classical music in an attempt to put women at ease when he was out walking. I think there are some parallels between that and this, and I recommend the essay even if there’s nothing in common.
Lorie, do you have a link for it?
Took me forever to find a full-text link, but this one looks complete: http://www.clt.astate.edu/bdoyle/Night%20Walker.htm
Note: It’s been published under numerous titles, including the one I originally mentioned, “Just Walk on By,” and “Black Men and Public Space.”
I am an avid headphone wearer when I run and take offense to the “real men don’t wear headphones” comment. I’ve ran many races and won..wearing headphones! I absolutly love running long distance and listening to music, it relaxes me and gets me to a place other then work and home. It’s a great way to ENJOY running. I believe the responsibility is in the hands of the wearer, if your in surroundings that aren’t safe alone in the first place and then can’t hear either then it sounds very irresponsible. If you follow the rules of commen sense you’ll be safe. I believe most women who have been raped or beaten up weren’t wearing headphones, did you think about that?