I am a white, short, relatively unimposing female. I have a graduate degree, and I am a doula, a meditation coach, and a sometime university lecturer. I was sitting in the library parking lot tonight, just about dusk after the library closed looking through some papers. A loud CRACK scared the blazes out of me, and I jumped at the rock that had just hit my car window. I had heard them catcalling, and had just ignored them. But with that impact, I grabbed my keys and got out of my car and headed straight for the two teenage boys. We were all alone in the parking lot together. One of them had several facial piercings and I’m guessing he was about 15, the other wore a hat hiding his eyes, and I’m guessing he was 14. I charged them to make it personal, stopping at about 6 feet away from the one facing me.
I stood there, arms at my side, and stated that a rock had just hit my car really hard, and that that was not alright. They gave me the standard troubled teenage response, a disclaimer of any knowledge or responsibility. I focused on the point. It had happened. A rock had been thrown at my car and hit it hard. That was an unacceptable thing. The one facing me continued denying any knowledge or responsibility, and the other, who’d been reclining, got up and moved away from me.
I shifted my response to what I needed; I asked them to promise not to throw any more rocks at my car or I had the need to call the police right then. One questioned me, “Right now?” As if he suddenly had heard me and before I had just been noise. “RIGHT NOW.” I was clear and unwavering. I had laid out their options. The other one said he’d already been arrested before. I replied that the cops would definitely believe me then. I stated their choices for them, clearly, and continued asking them to choose to promise not to throw rocks at my car anymore (sounds silly in retrospect, doesn’t it?).
After a lot of stalling, the one who’d done most of the catcalling promised. The one with his eyes covered turned his back on me, and kept looking down and away. The one who’d just promised told the other not to say anything. I looked the first who’d just promised in the eye and told him I was no longer asking anything of him, and to stay out of it. Now I was talking to his friend. I asked the second again, repeating his choices. Then I expressed my need to have him look me in the eye and promise not to throw rocks. “Can you do that?” I asked. “Look at me. LOOK at me”, I demanded, “Promise me you won’t throw any more rocks at cars.”
After what felt like a long pause, but I’m sure was really a second or so, he looked me in the eye and promised. Then I said, “Thank you. Thank you for that.” I looked at the other one, “Thank you too.” And then to the both of them, “Thank you for your promises.”
And then I turned on my heel and walked back to my car, got in, and went back to what I had been looking at. They sat down for a minute…I think they were a little confused. Then they moved farther off. Still in the parking lot, but now at the far end. After about 5 minutes, they catcalled again, now about my religious beliefs. I angled my head toward them, but didn’t look. A minute later, they left.
And I was thankful…and oddly calm.
This is not the first time I’ve been faced with an at-risk person who (from their perspective) has little to lose by beating me up or bashing in my head. Later, one of my best friends said, you know, if one of them had had a knife it could have all gone south.
I realized—the one who wouldn’t meet my eyes and who kept trying to turn his back on me—he probably did have a knife. I think it didn’t come out because I asked him to look me in the eye, and I looked him in the eye. It’s one thing to lash out at an unknown objectified person who doesn’t see you. It’s another to knife someone who’s looking you in the eye. That’s why I think I was safe.
For years now, I’ve been involved with a life skills program called COMPASS. While it is marketed primarily for at-risk people, I’ve believed that Compass is not only valuable for at-risk people needing to turn their lives around. I’ve felt like we all, all of us, need these skills to handle our lives and relationships with less carnage and more happiness. Compass gives us tools to recognize what it is we need, what motivates the people around us, and how to get what we want in a way that honors everyone involved..
I needed safety. I knew that if they thought they could scare me, or if I turned away or left, it would encourage these teenage boys to escalate. And the next time, their target might not be a self-confident well-abled person. They probably hadn’t counted on that (a few years ago, I certainly wouldn’t have been that)—and in order to get them to honor my need for safety, I knew I had to get a little respect from them, get them to recognize me as a real person, not as a ‘them’.
By skipping any blame or guilt and focusing on my need to be heard, respected, and safe, I avoided the exchanges that they were used to. By confronting them with my physical presence (small as it may be); arms at my side, facing them full front and center, making eye contact and starting with the thing that just happened and was not alright (insisting that it did occur, and not placing blame), I stepped out of what I’m guessing their normal confrontations with adults were like.
By refusing to play the game they were used to in which I, an authority figure, place blame and they, the rebels, make blatant denials of all involvement; by seeing them as individuals and addressing each of them separately, it became a person to person interaction. (I don’t think that this would work with more than two troublemakers.)
I owe that to COMPASS. The idea that I can stand up, express my needs when challenged by an unprovoked aggressive action, can recognize what’s going on for the aggressors and get them to see me as a real person (perhaps a scary crazy person, but still, a person) is a major shift for me. That I could get them to give me what I asked for was a real surprise—and a testament to the lessons of compassionate communication. The fact that I remembered amidst the adrenaline rush to look them in the eye and thank them for agreeing to be civil, that’s from Compass. And for that I am grateful. I am no longer a shy demurring white female. Now, I am a strong woman who can meet people as they come. And I am grateful for Compass.
-Jeanine Gilmaher
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