Protection Without Advocacy is Also Patriarchy
One morning, about three months ago, I was about to get in my car to go to work when I saw a woman jogging around the perimeter of our apartment complex. Watching her, a lightbulb went off in my head. I too could jog the perimeter of our apartment complex.
Later that week, I put on my light-gray jogging shoes, my classic black, high-waisted leggings and hit the pavement. Before that, I hadn't worked out since June, and I was just as concerned for my overall health as I was for my appearance.
By the next week, I had gone jogging three times and was getting dressed to go out a fourth time when my dad called. It was a Sunday, so we talked for about 30 minutes before I decided to exit the conversation. “Well Dad,” I said. “I’ve got to let you go. I was about to go out for a jog.”
He asked where I was jogging. “Just around my apartment complex,” I told him.
“Oh. I’d advise against that, baby girl.”
“Why?” I asked. He went on to say that my neighborhood isn't the safest, that I never know who's watching and that he'd prefer I worked out at a “secure facility.” A secure 👏🏽 facility 👏🏽. I was annoyed, but I knew that there was some truth in what he was saying.
My father uttered a few more words of discouragement before urging me to at least carry a pocketknife during my jogs. I agreed, though I did not take the pocketknife.
So, here are the facts you need to know to fairly assess the situation: I live in a gated apartment community in South Oak Cliff in Dallas, TX. The most trouble I've had so far is the theft of one of my Prime packages. To be fair, I receive a lot of packages. My dad has not been able to visit my complex yet, but I know that it's at the top of his to-do list.
So why was I so bothered by my father's criticisms of my latest fitness excursion? Primarily, I was upset because he was right.
Those first three jogs weren't incident-free. On my first time out, before I could even do one full lap around the complex, I heard someone catcall me from their apartment window or balcony. I looked around for the offender and, seeing no one, shoved my middle finger angrily into the open air.
The second time, a young man cleaning his car attempted to get my attention. I ignored him and kept jogging. His advance may have been ill-timed, but it wasn’t offensive in any way. On my second lap though, I noticed a silver pickup truck driving slowly behind me. This was particularly alarming because my Bluetooth headphones had just died and I was planning to duck into my apartment and grab another pair before I continued jogging.
Adobe Stock
Ultimately, I became so paranoid that I stopped jogging and waited for the truck to pass me. To my horror, the driver parked his truck about 200 meters away from where I was standing. I kept waiting, hoping he would exit his vehicle and go about his business. When he didn't, I chose to complete my final lap in silence, battery-dead AirPods still in my ear.
Aside from the obvious, I am bothered by these incidents because none of these things are my fault nor did I provoke them in any way. These incidents, as well as my father’s fear, are both the result of a culture that allows the intentions of men to dictate the behavior of women.
The entire situation is yet another iteration of a woman being asked to de-escalate a situation caused by men. Lastly, I am annoyed at my father for advising me to change my harmless, even normal behavior while failing to advocate for me among his friends and colleagues (or so I thought).
Men, in general, are quick to advise women of how to guard themselves against other men, but how often are they talking with their friends, coworkers, and sons about avoiding these types of offensive, even predatory, behaviors?
I posed this question to my boyfriend who had some very interesting thoughts to contribute. First, he pointed out the public versus private nature of some of these incidents.
“More often than not,” he said. “I’m not present to actually witness one of these incidents. It’s more common that I hear about something. Like a homeboy tells me about a situation where he asked a woman out or said something to a woman and I'm just like 'Hey bro, that shit's wrong.'"
"It's not really like me preaching at him, and it probably only happens about twice a year, if that," he explained. "I don't really associate with the type of guy to hear 'No' from a woman and be like 'Fuck you!' I try to avoid those guys too."
He went on to point out that men experience similar incidents with women, like a man being followed or heckled by a woman. “But we just get laughed at,” he said. “Even with our homeboys, they just laugh at the situation.”
After discussing the topic with my boyfriend, I felt like it was only fair that I pose the same question to my Dad.
“My peers mostly call me when they’re having some type of issue in their own situation,” my Dad said. “I’ve gotten a call like that maybe five to seven times in the last three or four years. So, I'd say like two or three times in a given year."
"But yesterday, I talked to a young man and he was hot. He was mad at his lady, and I told him 'Hey man, you might not want to treat her like that. She may have a reason for acting like that or something may be going on," my Dad said.
Then he asked me what scope or context I was writing from and I reminded him of our jogging conversation.
"Well," he said. "From infancy, or from a really young age, boys are taught to approach women or girls in a peacock-type manner. So, there's almost a reward system associated with being somewhat overt in expressing attraction. Some people learn to express those same things without the abrasiveness, but it's still something that's taught, rewarded, even expected."
As we continued talking, I asked him how he thought men and women could come to a similar understanding regarding expressions of attraction in common or social spaces.
“Honestly,” he said. “I think it’s just about mutuality within the exchange. Let’s take something as simple as asking somebody to go get a soda. People have to have some type of mutual channel. And when that channel doesn’t exist, it creates the potential for abrasiveness or offense.”
I was honestly glad I asked for my Dad’s opinion. Ultimately, we had a very productive conversation wherein I realized that the men in my life were advocating for women, just not loudly. And I was left grappling with the idea that a truth acknowledged must still contend with life's realities, that as unfair as it is, I probably should carry a pocketknife.
