Say you’re a person on a ttc platform late at night, minding your own business, and say there might be another person on the other end of the platform, minding his business. You feel calm, there’s nothing to be afraid of. Then this announcement comes on, informing you of this service, but what your brain hears is, “If you are a woman, please remember that you are in constant danger of being raped to death, on any bus, at any time, and maybe even by THAT GUY RIGHT OVER THERE!”

It’s living in a constant state of fear and victimhood, of this paranoia culture that strips us of our own agency. We demand that the powers that be take our security into their hands, and we’ve accepted that the constant threat is normal and expected. There doesn’t have to be an actual threat at hand in order for us to feel afraid.

Most guys aren’t out to rape you- they’re just trying to get home, just like you. But then an announcement like that comes on, and suddenly you’re a victim in his eyes. A victim who for some reason is being granted privileges that are denied to him because he is a man (what if he was wanted to be let off in-between stops? Would they let him?)

This weird inequality where women are under constant threat and there’s nothing they can do about it because it’s just the way it is is probably responsible for far more fear than any actual crime statistics. The rapist lurking in the tunnels and the bushes is just a myth- you are far more likely to be attacked by your boyfriend, your boss, your teacher, your friend, your neighbour, your husband, instances that don’t get reported because the victim herself probably doesn’t understand what happened to her. When it’s someone you trust, you probably convince yourself it’s okay, and project the real “bad guys” as the bogeymen lurking in public places at night.

Take a look around yourself and realize that you own that territory, you own the night as much as any stalker or mugger. You are not a lost lamb in a dark and scary world. They are encroaching on your territory, and there’s no reason to be afraid.

Here in Asheville, it’s not so bad, however – the buses (unfortunately) don’t even run at night, so there’s not a whole lot of opportunity to feel creeped out.

Contrast this with Brussels, where I now live. The metro has no barriers to stop people without tickets getting down onto the platform. This means that all kinds of unsavoury types lurk within the metro system. Plus the stations are dimly lit, sparsely policed, and can become quite scary at times!

Sadly, the crazy ones make it scary to be alone at night even in so-called “safe” hoods.

(None of this is intended to diminish the legitimate fears of women about violence from men).

I definitely don’t think the needs are being met in terms of safety for women, the elderly, disabled, etc.