I 
I 
I 
I 
I
I
I
DOMESTIC
DISTURBANCE:
When to Run
I
blame Cameron Crowe. That iconic shot of John Cusack standing outside
of Ione Skye's window with the boom-box in Say Anything made
borderline stalkerish behavior look charming end endearing. In real
life, Lloyd Dobler probably would have been slapped with a restraining order,
but in fiction his persistence wins Diane's heart. And Lloyd is
hardly the only stalker glorified by popular culture. Movies and TV
shows are full of heroes who don't understand that no means no. Is it
any wonder that real men can't always grasp this point?
My
favorite place to run is the park near our house. It's right off the
street but wooded enough that it feels removed from the suburban landscape.
A shallow creek flows through the heart of the park, and a gravel trail
borders the creek. As the sun sets, fireflies flicker in the trees like
Christmas lights and it looks like the set for a production of "A
Midsummer Night's Dream."
In
the late afternoon, the park is full of people: kids climbing on the
playscape, surly teens smoking and gossiping around the picnic tables,
dog-walkers, moms pushing jogging strollers, and errand-running husbands
carrying bags from the nearby grocery store. But as the light fades,
the crowds thin, until the park takes on another character -- hushed and
damp, a chiaroscuro of deep shadows and pools of light from the few
streetlamps. Occasionally I linger after dark, enjoying the quiet, and
finishing up a run that started later than usual.
I've always felt safe there, even after dark. Other than a few leers and one awkward would-be compliment (a slightly dweeby looking guy called out to me "By the way, you look great!"), no one's ever bothered me, and I've discounted these situations as resulting from poor social skills rather than malice.
But last week, I was really scared for the first time. It was later than usual, and I saw the guy who'd told me I looked great walking his little sheltie on the other side of the park. I sighed and hoped he'd be gone by the time I made my way over, not because I was scared, but from a desire to avoid any awkwardness. But he was ambling along while I was running at a steady pace, and in a few minutes, I came up on him on a particularly isolated stretch of the trail. He tried again to chat me up, telling me that I look great (apparently his range of adjectives is limited). It was dark and there was no one else around. Suddenly his insensitive behavior seemed more ominous.
(continued at right)
____________
Domestic
Disturbance 7.03
Backlash revisited and the undeclared war against American women
Domestic Disturbance 8.03
Saving for college... and therapy
Domestic Disturbance 9.8.03
Once more into the breach: Melissa brings home Baby Three
Domestic
Disturbance 10.12.03
Crime and Punishment at home
Domestic
Disturbance 11.10.03
Scenes from a funeral
Domestic
Disturbance 12.08.03
The cracks, chips and glue of a marriage
Domestic
Disturbance 1.12.04
Going on a gender bender
Domestic
Disturbance 2.09.04
Landscape of a daughter's body
Domestic Disturbance
3.08.04
Tales from the breast
Domestic
Disturbance 4.12.04
From Good Friday to Easter
Domestic
Disturbance 5.17.04
The real heroes of war
Domestic
Disturbance 6.14.04
Where I'm from
Domestic
Disturbance 7.12.04
The freedom of summer
Domestic
Disturbance 8.09.04
Enough is enough
Domestic
Disturbance 9.13.04
The Renaissance cometh
Domestic
Disturbance 10.11.04
Eat you up
Domestic Disturbance
11.08.04
What's in a label?
Domestic
Disturbance 12.13.04
Of politics, morals and barn building
Domestic
Disturbance 1.10.05
In the blood
Domestic
Disturbance 2.14.05
A mother's work
Domestic
Disturbance 3.14.05
Home comforts
Domestic
Disturbance 4.11.05
Living out loud
Domestic
Disturbance 5.23.05
Road trippin'
Domestic
Disturbance 6.13.05
Busy, busy, BUSY
I wanted to respond with something snappy: "Oh, yeah? Well you
look creepy!" or "What makes you think I care what you think about
how I look?" but I was aware of how isolated I was, and of the
disparity between our sizes. Discretion seemed the better part of
valor. I grimaced and ran past him without acknowledging his remarks,
picking up my pace.
The
path winds around considerably, so I had time to calm down before I rounded
the corner to my favorite spot, where three large chunks of limestone form a
rough circle in a cluster of live oaks. My fear flared again when I
saw the creepy guy sitting on one of the rocks, the red tip of his cigarette
glowing in the dark. While I'd been working my way around on the
trail, he'd cut across the creek and was lying in wait for me.
Maybe
this language sounds hysterical. After all, he looks like a perfectly
normal guy, and he's never done anything overtly menacing. Maybe his
dog ran across the creek, or maybe the circle of stones is his favorite
place to have a smoke. Maybe he thinks I'm cute, and this was his
version of blaring "In Your Eyes" under my bedroom window.
Maybe he thought that if he persisted, I'd think he was charming and
interesting and go out with him.
But
I've learned that perfectly normal looking guys can be monsters. Once,
in broad daylight in the parking lot for the University library, a man tried
to convince me to help him change a fuse in his car (because my hands were
smaller than his, so I would be able to reach it, although he couldn't).
I refused and walked away, feeling like a paranoid idiot as he yelled after
me that he hadn't meant to scare me. Several months later I saw a
police sketch of the man in the newspaper and learned that he'd used the
same trick to abduct two women and rape them. He looked just like all
the other guys on campus; there was nothing to indicate that he was
dangerous. Rapists don't always look like Freddy Krueger or Charles
Manson; sometimes they look like the boy next door (and with terrifying
frequency the rapist is the boy next door, or your brother's best friend, or
the cute boy who sits next to you in calculus class).
The
guy in the park might have spoken, but I never heard a word. I didn't
look behind me to see if he followed me; I ran desperately fast, in sheer,
incoherent terror, until I reached my own front door. He was the Big
Bad Wolf, and I was Little Red Riding Hood, and I was convinced he was going
to eat me up if I gave him half a chance.
Lots
of men "get it." They know this kind of behavior is scary
and inappropriate. And yet clearly lots of men don't understand at
all. Almost every woman I know has experienced something like this;
many of them have been forced to change their routines or to give up things
they enjoyed in order to avoid situations that might simply be annoying, but
could be dangerous. (Whether or not the guy at the park had malicious
intentions, I won't be running in the evening any more).
When
I was a freshman in college, my RA put a sign up in the hall that said,
"Lock your door, because Ted Bundy wouldn't like it that way."
Women are taught from an early age that we are potential victims and that
all men are potential predators. When I think of all the men I love
and trust and all the incredibly strong women I know, these assumptions make
me furious. When I think of my sons' compassion and my daughter's
fierce courage, I can't decide which part of that equation makes
me angrier. And yet there's a bedrock of truth to it, at least for
now, and women ignore it at our own peril.
The
next time Franny and I walk home from the grocery store in the evening,
she's sure to ask why we can't take the short cut through the park. I
wish I knew what to tell her.
____________________
About the Author:
Melissa Lipscomb lives in Austin with her children Drew, Franny, Alec and
husband Adam. Some days she feels like she's figuring out, and others she's
just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Visit her blog.
___________
Domestic
Disturbance 7.11.05
Of patriots
Domestic
Disturbance 8.15.05
To be bookish
Domestic
Disturbance 9.12.05
To be accountable
Domestic
Disturbance 10.10.05
Reassessing the container
Domestic
Disturbance 11.14.05
Lines of separation
Domestic
Disturbance 1.02.06
The cost of childcare
Domestic
Disturbance 2.13.06
Separate spheres
Domestic
Disturbance 3.13.06
In their own time
Domestic
Disturbance 4.10.06
Where irises grow
Domestic
Disturbance 5.07.06
By the tongue
Domestic
Disturbance 6.12.06
The current feed
Domestic
Disturbance 7.24.06
The spirited kitchen
Domestic
Disturbance 9.11.06
Body sighs
Domestic
Disturbance 10.09.06
Until proven innocent
Domestic
Disturbance 11.13.06
Riding the train
Domestic
Disturbance 12.18.06
I'm tellin' you why
Domestic
Disturbance 1.08.07
Resolute imperfection
Domestic
Disturbance 2.12.07
Executive kudos
Domestic
Disturbance 3.26.07
Play like a girl
Domestic
Disturbance 4.23.07
The work of moms
Domestic
Disturbance 6.18.07
Yes and no
Domestic
Disturbance 7.23.07
The rocket's red glare
Domestic
Disturbance 9.02.07
When to run
