seeing as i skipped over last week's feminist friday, i'm going to throw this out there today. because i am having strong feelings about it and don't feel like waiting till friday rolls 'round again. in the wake of the string of sexual assaults around toronto. thanks to john for passing along this piece.
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communal feari have tried one hundred thousand times to get to the heart of what it feels like to be afraid. to just be afraid. often. everywhere. anytime. after dark. early in the morning. when alone. when somewhere new. when somewhere familiar suddenly seems so unsafe... women have vigilance and fear dug into them very very early. or at least i and so many people i know have had. (and if we haven't, well, aren't we naive and foolish and putting ourselves in danger? say the voices.)
{stacey may fowles}
last night i went to a book launch party in toronto's east side. super hip and happenin'. i had some drinks and danced and tweeted. then i went home alone on the streetcar and subway a little after midnight, and held my breath as i held my head up hoping that tonight was not the night that i stupidly assumed i was safe in my city. knowing that if it was in fact that night, people would wonder about my sky-high clog heels, my short dress, my few drinks. the female friend i was with at the party asked that i text when i got home, which i appreciated. i am always the one who worries about my girlfriends going home alone. i always feel like a broken record. telling them to be careful as if it gives them any power. telling myself i am prepared and aware and vigilant as if it will help me if i ever am one of the unlucky ones. it is constant. it makes a girl very tired.
{stacey may fowles again. exactly.}
