I have a tendency to be impulsive. I get an idea in my head on Monday. I ignore the steps I will need to take to make said idea happen on Tuesday and Wednesday. On Thursday, I at least complete the pieces that require other people. And by Friday, I am throwing things in a bag, running out the door, and hoping I won’t miss my train, plane, bus, ferry, etc - which is how I ended up on my way to the Fire Island National Seashore (FINS) this past weekend.
Without a minute to spare, I caught the last ferry to Watch Hill and used the trip across the bay to repack my belongings and to take stock on what I had forgotten. This included a flashlight, sunscreen, a Swiss army knife, and a charged phone. Obviously the essentials like a 700+ page hardcover made it into my pack. Upon arriving at FINS, I made the couple mile trek down the beach to a suitable spot for tucked next to the dune and high enough off the beach to not have to worry about that evening’s high tide. I had never been backpacking alone before but it seemed like a fitting way to end a summer that I was reluctant to see go.
Knowing that the sun would be setting in an hour or so, I quickly set up my camp, ate the first of my peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and boiled up a cup of water for my evening tea. I sat in silence breaking up the monotony between perusing my hardcover and attempting some good ole letter writing. As the sun slipped behind the dune, I settled into my sleeping bag and continued to read until I could no longer make out the words.
I awoke with the stars overhead, roused by light from a person wandering a hundred feet or so from my tent. I kept quiet telling myself that this was probably just someone going for an evening stroll and that there was no reason to be alarmed. But as the stranger continued to mill about, I decided to go introduce myself – better to know one’s neighbor, right? Right. After brief introductions, the rest of my 24 hour backpacking trip quickly shifted from solo to a crowd.
As a general rule, if you are backpacking and happen to meet a lady traveling alone, do not show off your knife that you can open with one hand, mention that you dreamt she was murdered, or make references to her being nude – actually just don’t do that ever, to anyone - backpacking or not. Trust me. It’s not endearing. It is also not ok to question whether I view myself as a bad girl or a good girl – because you bet I am a bad girl. Or comment that I have the body of a high school girl – I must take care of myself. All of these words and many more were spoken to me by the neighbor.
It took me a full 4 days to finally feel angry about the whole situation. My initial spin to the weekend adventure was along the lines of I went on a solo trip only to be stuck with someone who never stopped moving his mouth – isn’t life funny. Because the thing is that other than the initial panic of someone entering what I had now deemed my space, I never felt afraid or threatened… although I did not feel good about it either. It’s an incredibly disappointing moment when you realize that someone’s offensive and inappropriate behavior has become an expectation. I hold men to such a low standard that I was not even remotely surprised by the words that came out of his mouth. And furthermore these views are so entrenched in my being that while he made me uncomfortable it never occurred to me that I could tell him to stop or inform him of his misdeeds.
When I started this post, I told Grace about how I wanted to treat him with respect and not be mean. Which is absurd. His behavior was misogynistic and vile. I do not need to protect him from the consequences of his choices. But it’s hard. Standing up for yourself is hard. Feminism is hard.
The most common response I received to the sharing of my Friday night anecdote was along the lines of “see – you shouldn't do that.” It’s not that he is at fault; it’s that I made the mistake by venturing out on my own. And while I know that is not necessarily the intention behind the words – my friends and family prioritize my well-being and do not wish for me to be in situations like these - maybe the first reaction needs to just be a general acknowledgement that it is wrong. That he needs to re-examine how he views women and what is acceptable behavior when engaging with the opposite sex. Maybe the first step should be to hold each other accountable to a higher standard when we engage with one another. That we stand up for ourselves in these situations as well as for each other. I should have the right to travel alone without being harassed with remarks about my body. We all deserve to be able to function in day to day life without our gender being a source of public commentary.
Since Friday night, my brain has been spinning about feminism, masculinity, societal norms, and what can be done to shift the current paradigms. It would be a lie to state that I have anything figured out. But I don’t think that matters. We all – men and women - need to start asking questions so we can work together to change the status quo. I had entered FINS with many expectations. I planned on escaping from the city but I ended up with a neighbor from the Upper East Side. I had hoped to refocus my thoughts to the present yet I left with my mind replaying the past. I wanted to gain perspective with solitude but instead I gained self-awareness with constant commentary from unintended company.
"The best laid schemes o' mice an' men/ Gang aft a-gley." -- Robert Burns
some thoughts and feelings:
we should all be feminists -- chimamanda ngozi adichie
i think it is right that socially i am afforded the same respect as men -- emma watson on the UN campaign he for she
my liberation as a man is tied to your liberation as a woman -- tony porter, a call to all men
the list of rules for women -- jay smooth