Sunday, October 19, 2003

Be Aware

In my life there are a few moments I expect never to stop regretting.  They’re mainly to do with things I shouldn’t have said or done, but the ones that bother me the most are mostly my sins of omission - when I should have spoken up or acted, but didn’t.  And since October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month, one episode has come back to me with discomfiting clarity.

I was driving the crappy old Stanza, puttering up Guererro Street, a reasonably busy two-lane street lined with well-maintained three-story victorian homes.  It was midday and I was stopped at a red light when a woman ran past my car into traffic.  I don’t recall all the details clearly but she was very lightly dressed - maybe a cotton print skirt, a t-shirt, dark long loose hair; maybe sandals, maybe barefoot.... She was being chased by a man who looked terribly angry.  He had a goatee, sleeveless t-shirt (aren’t they called wifebeaters?), faded fatigue pants, sneakers.  He chased her into traffic and caught her by the arm, spun her around with venom in his eyes.  He dragged her to the sidewalk.  She looked as scared as he was angry.  The light changed; I drove away.  I didn’t see what happened next.

I should have put the car in park and tried to de-escalate the situation.  Lacking that, I might have been able to slow him down enough so that she could have gotten away.  Assuming that she wanted to.  Assuming it was what it looked like.  Assuming this angry muscular man wouldn’t have turned his rage against me - I doubted and still doubt my ability to withstand him were he to decide to beat me.

And really, that’s where I fall apart.  I was afraid of this man, who didn’t even see me, whose atttention was totally focused on this slim young woman.  And if I was scared, and still sort of am, how do I think she was feeling? And how is she feeling now?  And at this juncture in my chain of inquiry, I founder on my own regret.  I don’t know what I could or should have done, but for damn sure I wish I’d done something.  Every day, every damn day there are more opportunities to redress my inaction; even if I can’t help that one woman I could help someone.  And that is as far as it’s gone.  And the taste is bitter in my mouth but I can’t wash it out, or maybe I just haven’t yet.  I’ll have my chance.  I hope like hell I take advantage of it. 

MORAL: Don’t hit.  Use your words.  I’m just waiting for my chance to do my bit to set things right.

Yes. I know exactly how you feel.

Don’t beat yourself up.  You will have a next time to step in—hope not, but the problem isn’t going to stop just because we’re supposed to think about domestic violence this month.

you’re a very brave guy, dan, to even consider intervening.  this episode taught you to be more aware, and you are...i’m recalling the story of the family in the department store.

you rule.
evi

You are a good man striving to be better.  We should all follow that example.

I did crisis intervention work (domestic violence and sexual assault) for about six years before burning out...here’s my official stance: If your heart tells you to try to intervene, do so, but be careful both for yourself and for the victim - the perpetrator’s anger at you could be turned on her once they are alone.  But it is always, always, ALWAYS OK to call 911, tell them what you saw and where.  Most police stations have a specific DV unit, and they should take your call very seriously.

And again, Dan, excellent use of negative experience to increase awareness.  Thanks.

so goddamn true man.  i 2 have regretted not speakin’!

”... and when I heard that it was for awareness, that sealed the deal!”

Just a little Marge quote for you.

I once saw a man beating his wife while they were driving. This was before cell phones and I regret that I didn’t get the license plate and call the police later.

I thought of your experience in the department store too.  And didn’t you grab some guy by his pinky one time? 

These situations can get complicated quick.  Like if you had jumped in, would he have backed down at that point, but then later would he have beaten the hell out of the lady worse than he ever would have?  And if he attacked you, and you defended yourself, and you beat the hell out of him (because no matter how scared you are and how much you think you’d back down, you don’t know until you’re there, and I have a feeling you were scared and mad enough to beat the tar out of him) and he sues you, or you get locked up.  Or he had six friends running to catch up to him around the corner.  Or maybe he had a box cutter in his back pocket.

It’s so complicated.  You just have to deal with situations you insert yourself - where ever you find yourself when your passion trumps your reason.  Maybe on another day you would have jumped out of your car and jumped in.  Then you would have had a whole different set of circumstances and decisions facing you, and the subsequent reflections afterwards:  should I have jumped in, should I have kicked him in the nuts, should I have beat him down and then jumped back in my car before the police arrived.

You are a good person - by choosing your battles wisely, you are able to do more good for more people, you know?  You care about doing good and you will do good when given a chance.  That’s better than a lot of people.

thanks - it’s good to know that, even when I feel like I screwed up, you remind me of the silver lining to my cloud.  That event has made me more willing to get involved, and I’ll take all your warnings and advice to heart.  And by the way, that thing about that guy’s pinky, that was fiction.  But thanks for the buy-in.

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