Postscript to "What's New About Terror?"

I am forever a student, even in my own classroom. It is an “epistemological irony,” through which, if the teacher allows it, she learns as much or more than her students. These moments are sometimes joyful surprises, on-the-spot revelations of understanding, creative connections that occur as one speaks, or crystallized awareness of the relationship between culture and religion. Teaching this summer course on Religion and Feminism provided many such moments for me. I learned as my students learned. I grew as my students grew. 

 

Through the course readings and class discussions I developed a greater understanding and appreciation of many things with these students but nothing can compare to the awakening I have experienced since exploring the historical reality of women’s terror. In the classroom, through my own reflection and in the words of this journal, I have begun to discover profound truths about how women and men experience the world and each other:

 

1) I am not alone. I am not hyper-paranoid, excessively anxious or fearful. My experience of terror has been affirmed repeatedly by my female students, by friends who have read my journal entries, by female co-workers with whom I discussed the issue, with relatives, and a young woman whom I consider to be fearless, who admitted to me that even she is not free of it. Over and over again the women in my life have confirmed it: they too walk about the world in terror of sexual assault and rape. It is ever near the surface of consciousness. It invades us, disturbs our peace and alters our behavior. One young woman, in her critical reflection wrote the following:

 

         A large part of my life includes fear. I recognize that every decision

         I make is informed by the understanding that I have to do everything

         I can to avoid being a victim of violence or rape. It is horrifying that

         as a strong woman who is relatively secure in herself, I have become

         so used to living my life in fear, always watching out, keeping the lights

         on, checking behind my shower curtains and in my closet before bed,

         feeling that drop in my stomach as I open the door to my apartment

         late at night, almost braced for the worst...

 

And another:

 

        While I have never been attacked in a dark alleyway walking home

        at night, I feel I am prepared for it. I put my keys in my hand and

        ball up my fist, waiting for someone to step my way. I never realized

        why I did it except that I was trying to protect myself… I have also

        been told throughout my life that I must dress in such a way as to not

        make men sin, by lust.

 

And another:

 

        Yesterday in class, we began talking about how we adjust our

        lifestyles to prevent or avoid any form of violent crime or victim-

        ization. After class, I drove home thinking about how it affects my

        life. I fear going to sleep at night because I have a horrible fear

        of waking up to someone standing over my bed. I do not go to

        the mall or grocery store at night by myself because of the horrific

        stories one hears of abductions. The list goes on and on…

 

I am not alone. The experience of terror is a universal, female one. What is amazing too is that (to a greater or lesser degree) women walk around with this terror, but never speak of it.

 

2). Men have no idea we experience the world thusly. Men have no point of reference for this experience even IF we shared it with them (which we don’t). One incredulous young man in my class expressed it best when he asked, “Y’all really walk around like that?” My female students and I confirmed it, “Yes. Yes, we really do.”  And perhaps this has been the most stunning element of exploring this issue in the classroom- that one half of the human beings in this country have a common experience that the other half of the human beings in this country  knows nothing  about. How does this affect our ability to know each other? To be relational? HOW can we possibly be loving, compassionate and understanding of each other if one half of humanity is ignorant of a fundamental way of being in the world experienced by the other half of humanity? How influential, important and crucial is the experience of chronic terror? And how does our silence contribute to the space between us?

 

3). The irony of this reality is that men are the source of this terror and they have no idea. And we have no idea that they have no idea. They know that they are fearful for sisters, girlfriends, mothers and women friends; they know the dangers to them, but they do not have intimate knowledge of the pervasive, internal terror itself. It was appalling to the young men in my class (gentle spirits all) that they might be the source of such terror as they sit at a bar or appear unexpectedly on a street corner. That, I would imagine might be a source of consternation to any decent man who is aware of women’s terror, i.e., that they might trigger it. One young man, in a remarkable moment of clarity asked, “What can I do to alter my behavior so as to appear less threatening, less fearsome?” And his question took my breath away with its potential and its compassion.

 

I am fond of quoting the ancient Chinese proverb, “When the student is ready the teacher will come.” As a result of this summer course, I am inclined to reverse the order. And so, the course officially ends, but I will continue to reflect upon its lessons. Its impact will continue to affect the person I am and the person I will become. And for this, I have one more thing to say to that bright and delightful group of young men and women: Thank you. Thank you for being my fellow and sister students. Thank you for “hearing me into speech.”