
Shell of a Man
a woman got up
stood at the subway exit door
I got up
stood behind her
she glanced briefly
over her shoulder
she exited
I followed
up the stairs
outside the station
we both turned to the left
both crossed in the same direction
turned down the same side street
then another
I walked faster
to pass her
she walked faster
to escape me
we crossed at the same point
she was practically running
I slowed
saddened by what had happened
saddened
by merely being a man
she felt threatened
because my house
was along her route
this gender
this skin
is a shell that shouldn’t crack
a bowl to carry me through life
that doesn’t get questioned
doesn’t get handled roughly
directly
thanks
to my entitlement
of not having to worry
to apologize
for what isn’t my direct doing
I didn’t create this cultural context
in which women
fear men
yet I feel guilt
should I have taken a different way home
when I saw us walk
in the same direction
is her fear
her insecurity
now my fault
how different from her
am I
I get the same anxiety
when my sense of security
is confronted
by my assumptions of strangers
do young men alarm me
simply because they are young
how did age become weaponized
how did skin colour become weaponized
the world is on alert
trust no one
justify that lack of trust
by falling back on distorted news
by a history
that suppresses facts in favour of controllers
by not acknowledging any complicity
in making them look pure
not driven by greed
by the need to control
I just wanted to walk home
take my shoes off and relax
not feel the fragility of this shell
This was prompted by an actual event, or rather events, because this isn’t the first time this has happened – me and a random lone female getting on then off the subway train at the same time, walking in the same direction, as the same time. I’m always paranoid that as we walk she’ll stop, unknowingly at the sidewalk to my house, and confront me, mace me, kick me in the balls.
So far no such confrontation has occurred. I don’t know of a way of reassuring anyone, of making myself appear non-threatening when this happens. At times I have not crossed where I usually cross but the defiance to my house is less than 5 minutes so there’s no real way to not go in the same direction. This reaction to her paranoia – I say her, as I’ve never happens when such accidentally-in-the-direction occurs with men.
I have female friends who tell me they have felt unsafe when a man walks behind them at night on the street. It saddens me. It one of the memento when I confront the this cultural context of fear. I feel very safe on the street at night, alone, but that is because I’m a man – not because I am necessarily safe – there have been shootings & stabbings all along the Danforth.
I have to admit though that I am less inclined go out at night unless I have a destination I want to get to. Even less inclined in the winter – icy, snowy, sidewalks can be treacherous enough in daylight – if slip and fall I want someone to see me asap. But the war on pedestrians is another issue.
In the piece I also look at this culture of paranoia regarding race & age. I have a black friend who still, in 2019, gets watched when he goes into a corner store. There’s a couple of corner shops in this area with signs that say ‘one student at a time.’ We have a US president who wants to build a wall to further the demonization of Mexicans (rather than rebalance the profit driven economy) – now that blacks have become a less sensational target.
Yeah a lot of that actually through my head when I’m accidentally going in the same direction as a woman. Sometimes I rather stay home at night than confront all that.

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