Fugitive Pieces

Tonight I went to see the film Fugitive Pieces - a sort of class event for one of my new seminars. I was thrilled at the chance despite the $15 ticket fee because it is based on one of the most poetical and beautiful novels I've ever read. I had to park about two blocks from the theatre because of the massive amounts of cars. There were enough people around that it didn't bother me, but the thought did cross my mind that I'd have to walk back to the car alone a few hours later. After the film, just past midnight, still a little awed by the beauty and sadness of it, I said goodbye to my prof and classmates to head to my car. Plenty of people around - no worries. As I got farther away however, the people became fewer and fewer until it was just me and a man who'd come from the opposite direction and stayed about ten feet behind me. It was just a man, out walking as I was - I knew that was most likely the case but still I could feel my pulse start to speed up a little, my body become more keenly aware of my surroundings - taking in the sound of each clap, clap, of my heels on the pavement and the soft pad of his trainers. 'This is ridiculous' I said to myself, 'there's no reason to be scared'. But there was reason, at least to be cautious, to be aware. And I thought 'I hate this, I hate that I have to be scared like this.' Annoyed that I had to be cautious, that really I shouldn't be out walking alone at that hour though practicality really didn't allow for anything else.

Then it struck me, wait a minute . . . I hate that I have to nervous, apprehensive for maybe 5 minutes out of my whole day? I feel it somehow unjust that I live in a place where I have this fear mainly because I'm a woman? I just walked out of a movie, based on historical events, where people had to fear every moment of every day. Where they had to hide, for fear of their lives, and even their own homes were no type of sanctuary. Where people died and saw death and carried this with them every moment.

It's amazing how we can let our privilege, our blessings go so unnoticed, so unappreciated. It's amazing how we can go through our days forgetting what has come before - what is still happening now.