Now, before I start, I should declare that I am a man myself and this is not going to be a vehement attack on all the males of the species. No, that’s not one bandwagon that I will jumping onto the back of. Neither is this an argument in defence of men, or a rallying cry claiming that men are receiving an unfair press. Instead, I want to relay an event that happened to me recently that upset me deeply, but more importantly, worried me about the long-term effect that “men bashing” may have on our society as a whole.
Before I get into that, I want to clarify a couple of things. Firstly, I am certainly not trying to claim that there isn’t a problem with men’s attitudes towards women and girls. Neither will I suggest that more shouldn’t be done to educate men and boys in order to try and rectify these prevailing attitudes, especially where violence committed against women is concerned. What I want to try and convey, is why I think that the vilification and demonising of ALL men and boys isn’t the answer. By pointing the finger at a single demographic (and a very large one at that!), we are reducing the number of people that are able to help solve this problem.
Apologies, if you feel I am prevaricating somewhat, but please allow me to ramble a little further, as I want to try and paint a bit of a clearer picture as to who I am and what my background is, as I feel it will be relevant when I come to relaying my upsetting episode.
As I mentioned previously, I am a male of the species. I am also a husband, a father and a grandfather (I married young!). I am the extremely proud father of two beautifully intelligent women and the equally proud grandfather of two granddaughters that I dote on. I have been married to my long-suffering wife for thirty-seven years and we still tell each daily how much we love each other. More importantly, we mean it. Heck, even our dog is female! I’m surrounded, and I love it!
I was raised by a strong mother who wanted her little boy to grow up being respectful to women. To be respectful to all people. She taught me that there were many differences between men and women, but difference doesn’t mean weakness. The lessons that she taught me stuck with me and I have tried to pass these onto my daughters. I tried to explain to my daughters, that whilst I couldn’t fully comprehend some of the problems that they will encounter as I am not a woman myself, I am able to empathise, or I will at least try to. I explained to them how they will be perceived and treated by some men and how best to deal with these situations when they arise. I have always tried to reinforce to them that no man is better than them purely because they are male. However, one of my daughters was shocked one day when she realised that these preconceptions could work both ways. We were in the supermarket getting some bits we needed, and my wife had asked me to get her some tampons, which I duly did. To me, this is just another product in my basket, and I hadn’t given them a second thought. However, the young girl on the till thought differently and she tried her best to try and ridicule me by asking, “are you sure these are the right ones?”, with a condescending half-smile, half-sneer on her face, whilst holding them aloft. I smiled and nodded, “I think so”. My daughter was seething with indignation by the time we got back to car as she realised what had just happened, but I pointed out that what I had just experienced was a mere fraction of what she had to come!
One of the other values instilled into me by my parents was to try and always help other people. As a result, I consider myself a “run towards” person rather than a “run away” person. If I see someone in trouble, or someone who appears to need help, I will try to see if I can be of assistance in any way. One example of this was in the mid-1980s when I was a teenager. There is a large hospital near to where I lived, and in those days, some hospitals provided living accommodation for the nurses. A friend of mine’s sister worked at this hospital as a nurse and also lived there, and it was from her that we learned that there was a person waiting for the nurses after they had finished their shifts and they would harass them as they walked back to the accommodation block. This happened in late autumn and at a time of day when it was dark. The harassment came in the form of walking close to the nurses whilst making extremely lewd and suggestive comments. On a couple of occasions, this person tried to grab their intended victim, and whilst this in itself is horrendous, luckily it was no worse. The police were informed, and they did send officers to patrol the grounds at random times, but the person made themselves scarce as soon as the police were more visible. As you can imagine, the nurses were extremely scared, and my friend was very concerned for his sister’s welfare. And so, after a couple of beers in a local hostelry, my friend, myself and a couple of others decided we would get a small group together and draw up a rota to wait for the nurses at a particular exit and escort them back to the accommodation building. Within a short space of time, we had amassed quite a number of volunteers, rotas were drawn up and there were plenty of people to ensure that the nurses arrived back at their accommodation safely. The police didn’t exactly approve, but they advised us how best to protect both the nurses and ourselves. We never actually caught the creep who was carrying out the attacks, but he was spotted and chased on a couple of occasions. After approximately three months, the sightings of this person dwindled out completely and the nurses felt sufficiently “safe” to no longer require being escorted.
I hasten to add, that none of this was done because it was “poor defenseless women” that were being targeted. We felt that we needed to act because a group of people were made to feel vulnerable and frightened and we felt that we could help. I have also helped people that have collapsed in supermarkets, have broken down at the side of the road, have been attacked in the street and have just looked lost and lonely. Many of these people have been women, but just as many have been men. On one occasion, I intervened on a busy high street one Saturday morning when I saw a woman being grabbed by the throat by the man she was with. I “persuaded” the man to let her go, only to be met by a tirade of abuse from the woman, telling me to leave her boyfriend alone. Would I have intervened had I know her reaction in advance. Of course I would, you don’t grab someone around the throat in that manner, especially when the grabber is considerably bigger than the grabbee (is that even a word!). I have also been chastised by women for holding the door open for them, unbeknownst to them that I had performed the exact same action for a man earlier that day.
Apologies again, there is a point to my seemingly aimless meandering and that point is that I always try to help people. Especially if they seem vulnerable or afraid, regardless of gender. I always have and I thought I always would; but this gets me to the point of my story – that being the upsetting incident. At last, I hear you cry!
It was a non-descript midweek morning and I had an appointment which necessitated driving to a nearby town. The destination of my appointment was close to the high street, so I decided to park in the nearby multi-storied carpark. Once parked, I decided to take the stairs and as with most carparks of this type, the stairwell was concealed by heavy doors clad in metal kick-plates, their whereabouts hinted at by the “Shops This Way”, sign. I was on the third floor and each level was reached by a series of two opposing flights of steps, again typical of most carparks. Having reached the second floor, I could hear the sound of approaching footsteps, so made sure that I kept to the left to ensure enough room for the person to pass. As the footsteps grew louder, I could see a woman approaching, of a similar age to myself and she clearly looked distressed. As the lady passed me and reached the top of the first flight of steps, halfway to the next floor, she hesitated slightly, so I took the chance to ask if everything was alright. She looked a little taken aback, but after a brief pause, she informed me that she wasn’t sure where she had parked her car. She was fairly certain that she had left it on Level 2, but there was no sign of it. As I was a regular visitor to this carpark, I had seen this happen before as each floor was split into two sub-levels, an A and a B, although this was not immediately clear from the signage. I explained that her car was probably on the next level up as this was level 2B and to make things even more confusing, each level looked very alike.
The lady smiled and I saw a momentary look of relief sweep across her face. This was almost immediately replaced by another expression, uncertainty, which then slowly morphed into fear. It was only slight, and the lady tried to hide her emotion as she thanked me for my help, but I noticed it nonetheless. Ordinarily, I would have offered to help look for the car as semi-dark, empty carparks aren’t the greatest places to be wondering around on your own. Also, if the worse-case scenario were to be happen and the car had been stolen, I would then be on hand to offer further assistance. Instead, sensing the lady’s apprehension, I tried to reassure here again that her car would more than likely turn-up and I wished her a good day. I hurriedly continued my descent of the stairwell.
It was later in the day, once my appointment had been concluded and I was back home, that I really had a chance to process what had just happened. It hadn’t crossed my mind for a moment that this woman might feel vulnerable or frightened just from my mere presence. But why wouldn’t she. After all, I was a complete stranger, she didn’t know me from the next person, and she had no way of knowing what my intentions were. I knew that I wanted to help this lady, but the pertinent point is that she didn’t.
And after all, what does this lady see in the press and media every day. Most men are bad. Misogynists. Violence against women is getting worse. Hate crime is increasing. Men and boys need educating on how to treat women and girls better. We are the enemy. Not to be trusted. Hell, even the police can’t be trusted to protect women anymore. Now, none of these statements are totally untrue and I don’t disagree with any of them. It’s just the number of men that are portrayed as “bad” that I have an issue with.
That day in the carpark, when I saw the look in that lady’s eyes, part of my soul died. I am still saddened by it even to this day. The realisation that I was the cause of this lady’s fear weighs heavy on my heart. As I have tried to outline in my ramblings, my intention has only ever been to try and help people. In the past, I have always done this without a second thought, no matter the danger I might be putting myself in. Now however, I will hesitate the next time I find myself in a similar situation. I will worry that that person perceives me as a threat and a danger and not a source of assistance.
I shared these feelings with my wife and her response shocked me. I explained that I was worried that if I found myself in a similar situation, I wouldn’t want anyone to feel that I was a threat. My wife’s advice was, should I find myself in a such a situation again, to walk on and carry about my day. It was her explanation that really shocked me. What if that lady had screamed and shouted out. Called for help as she thought I was about to mug or attack her. If she thought that this was genuinely about to happen to her, she would believe it to be true. And should anyone else get involved, who would believe me. After all, I am just a man. A misogynist. I need educating and it’s because of people like me that there is so much violence against women. It must be true because its in the news all the time.
Would I get involved again though, if someone was in trouble, clearly distressed and in need of help. If that person was a woman. Of course I would. Because it’s the right thing to do. Because I am a man and I have known many, many, other men in my life and I know there are more good ones than bad. Most men, like myself, are appalled when they see and hear these cases of horrendous violence carried out against woman. Whilst there are many men that do perpetuate these attitudes and acts of violence, there is a larger number that want to help be part of the solution. To be part of the education process. To help build a better more equal society.
Problem is, that’s not the sort of thing that grabs headlines, sells newspapers, or increases viewing figures. Maybe there’s a whole different topic of education that needs to be discussed!