“Learning to stand in somebody else’s shoes, to see through their eyes, that’s how peace begins. And it’s up to you to make that happen. Empathy is a quality of character that can change the world.”
– Barack Obama
The power of the above quote, by former President Barack Obama, should never be underestimated. Its power to change the world rests in our individual commitment to use everyday experiences as opportunities to view life through a lens other than our own. Several months ago, that opportunity was up close and personal for me.
My wife, Erica, and I were preparing to go to brunch, as we often do on Sunday afternoons after she returns from her morning walk. As we got ready on this particular Sunday, I could tell something was bothering her. She wasn’t her usual jovial self. Figuring that her mind was preoccupied with work she had to get done before Monday, I continued to get dressed and didn’t bother to ask her any questions.
When we got to the restaurant and sat down, I took out my phone and began to casually check my calendar. That’s when Erica looked at me pointedly and asked me to put my phone down. I knew something was amiss. I braced myself for what would come next. I didn’t know if she was going to tell me how much I’m glued to my phone or share a deep revelation she had about our relationship. I prepared myself by taking a deep breath as I fought my urge to feel prematurely defensive. The fact that I thought it was something about me is another conversation all together. As it turns out, she wanted my full attention because she was about to share an experience she had while walking that morning. I had no idea what to expect.
She began her story by telling me about a man who was gawking at her from his car while she was walking. Full transparency here. Although I initially felt bad about her being objectified, my immediate thought, was — “Men will be men. That’s what men do. He didn’t mean any harm.” Though I didn’t say those words out loud, I ashamedly confess — particularly as someone whose life’s work is committed to reducing gender-based harm — those were my thoughts before she could even finish her story. As Erica continued, I could see her hands starting to shake. I could hear the trepidation in her voice. This went beyond what I considered to be normal gawking, as if that’s not bad enough. This was about to go to another level.
Erica proceeded to say that when she was roughly 100 feet away from an intersection she was walking towards, a man in a minivan started approaching the stop sign of the intersection. At this point, he stopped and stared in her direction. She thought it was odd because his was the only car at the 4-way stop intersection and there were no more cars in sight. She realized that he was looking at her and not for oncoming cars. As she approached the intersection, he put his minivan in reverse, came to a full stop and sat there, gazing at her with an awkward smile plastered on his face. Instead of crossing the street, Erica turned to her right to walk towards the grocery store, while keeping her peripheral vision focused on him. He then made a left turn, pulled into a subdivision, turned around and started coming her way again. As she approached the grocery store, he continued to slowly follow her. When she stopped, he said something that she couldn’t understand and began mimicking the motion of talking on a phone — as if he was asking for her phone number. Erica dismissed his advances, blew him off, and attempted to proceed on her way. She then noticed him driving down an embankment as if he was going to turn around AGAIN and continue to follow her. This is when she began to run as fast as she could so she could escape his view. As she hurriedly walked towards home, she kept her eyes open and did not see him anymore.
As she came to the end of her story, Erica revealed to me why this experience was particularly disturbing for her. When she was 16 or 17 years old, she was walking out of a mall in Philadelphia when a man driving a van pulled up to her. Another man in the van opened the sliding door as if he was going to ask her a question. She immediately turned around to go back inside the mall. Her walking experience was a deep trigger and a vivid reminder of what could’ve happened years ago had she not turned around to go back into the mall.
As I write about her story today, several months after its occurrence, I can feel the emotions of that day rushing back to me. That day, while she shared her experience, I was paralyzed, stunned, saddened, embarrassed, and filled with rage. I remember the tears that filled my eyes as the details of her story emerged. I will never forget the pain on her face and the fear in her voice as she recounted her steps. And I will never forget feeling like a first-class jerk for the momentary temptation to minimize her experience and excuse male entitlement by accepting the notion that boys will be boys.
I’d like to think that I am a man who is intentional about pursuing peace. I am tirelessly committed to the work of violence prevention and harm reduction. Yet, on that day, part of me wanted to exact revenge. To be honest, I wanted to search the neighborhood up and down to find this guy. And for a short time after the incident, I kept my eyes open for a blue-gray colored minivan. Part of me wanted to hurt him, chastise him — let him know how much fear he instilled in my beloved.
It took Erica a few weeks before she felt comfortable going walking again. For the first few days back, I walked with her. Eventually, she returned to her routine and never saw THAT particular guy again.
Many men who read this may indeed see it as an unfortunate story — but one that has a safe ending, nonetheless. The real tragedy is that for Erica and women like her, the stories may end but the experiences do not.
Every day that Erica walks out the door to go walking, she braces herself for the honks from men in passing cars. She ignores them, but always keeps her eye on the cars to make sure they don’t turn around. She does her best to stay vigilant. THIS is her everyday lived experience. When Erica is alone parking in parking lots, she does her best not to park next to vans and big trucks. Her prior experience reminds her how easy it is to be snatched off the streets and harmed.
Unfortunately, occurrences such as these are the common, everyday experiences of women. Many men have the privilege of not identifying with these experiences because we don’t have to adjust our everyday routines to avoid them. I don’t have to alter my course when walking. I don’t have to intentionally avoid eye contact with strangers because they may get the wrong idea. I don’t have to think twice about what I’m wearing because it might entice some creeps at work, at the gym, or when I’m casually hanging out. I could go on and on. Ultimately, it is our attachment to our own lens that makes way for the privilege of not seeing and empathizing with the lived experiences of others. The refusal to see through a lens other than our own is inhumane and self-centered. But it doesn’t have to be so.
On that day, when Erica decided to lay herself bare, she wasn’t requiring me to find the man who was stalking her. She didn’t want me to meet violence with violence and hurt him, in the name of protecting her honor. In that moment when she was totally vulnerable, with her fears laid out before both of us, she wanted me to see her. She needed the protection of my complete presence — a presence I could give her when I decided to surrender my privilege and allow the moment to shatter my old way of seeing.
Indeed, empathy is a quality that can change the world. Peace does begin by standing in someone else’s shoes and seeing through someone else’s eyes.
These days, I’m finding that I’m not satisfied with just standing in Erica’s shoes. On the day she invited me into her world, she nudged me to walk in her shoes, as well.
I’m a better man because of it.
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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