LUCY BURDETTE: I am always so happy to welcome writer Barbara O’Neal to the blog—and even happier that her newest book, A THOUSAND PAINTED HOURS, will be published in August. (I have already pre-ordered.) She has some interesting thoughts today on traveling as a single woman…
BARBARA O’NEAL: Last night, I was on a fairly empty train rather late, at the SFO airport. It was grim lighting, that tungsten glow that makes everything seedy.
It occurred to me with some surprise that I wasn’t worried about it. As a young woman, I would have been looking over my shoulder, checking for men who might be dangerous. Constantly. I am still aware—I’m not a fool; I can still be pickpocketed or mugged—but this is no longer an overarching, constant, tense, alert worry. I walk through the world like a man. At ease. Sure. Because I have crossed into the blessed territory of invisibility.
What a delight.
Eating dinner at the airport food court, I saw a young man pass, staring at a very young woman at a table in front of me. She was eating. Her hair was a little messy from travel. She didn’t notice him, but he walked twenty feet staring at her so obviously that it irritated me. I wanted to stand up and whack him with my purse. Keep walking, bud.
I remembered when it was me worrying about the unwanted attention of some random guy, finding a place to sit between an old woman and a mother with a child so the strange man couldn’t sit near me.
My son, age 25 or so, talked about going out to the New York clubs with a small group of women. One was very fearful, jumping at shadows, worried about alleyways and knots of guys on the street. Her friend said, “Don’t worry, Ian is with us. No one will mess with us.”
He said, recounting that story to me later, “I had no idea women worry about this all the time. All. The. Time. Did you know?”
Um, yes, son. I did.
I’m taking my granddaughter to Japan next month. She’s 14 and leggy and eccentric, with a wild head of hair that draws the longing gaze of white women (“I love your hair”) but also the meanness of boys at middle school. I feel some sense of relief about the safety of that country, but I also know I will be instructing her constantly, quietly, on how to be female while traveling. I want her to be mighty. And safe.
I honestly worry less about this one than her younger sister. My wild-haired girl is fierce and knows her own mind. She’s the girl other kids ran to when they were being bullied. Her sister is pliant and a pleaser and very pretty in that way some males want to claim—if it is beautiful, it is mine. We will go somewhere, too, in a couple of years. She longs for Germany, which she visited a couple of years ago. I will instruct her carefully.
I wish this was not necessary. I wish I had not spent 40 years sizing up every space I walked through. I traveled anyway, but often I was nervous.
Now I stride through the world like a white man, able to occupy any space without apology or fear. I just wish my granddaughters could begin here, instead of waiting decades to age into it.
Readers, do you worry when you’re traveling or otherwise out of your element?
More from Lucy, Barbara has some news for the upcoming A Thousand Painted Hours: If you would like a signed copy, you can order one now, and we have some very special things that go along with it. The first is a giveaway of an original piece of collage art I created to commemorate the book. One golden ticket in the books will win the original art.
To order a signed copy, visit Author, Author
You can also pre-order all the other versions—kindle, hardcover ($2 off if you order now), paperback or audio, which is going to be especially fantastic this time. I’ve heard the clips from my narrator and I am so very excited. Pre-orders really help visibility of a book, so I appreciate any help in that direction.
Congratulations, Barbara, on your new book . . . maybe you could tell us a bit about the story?
ReplyDeleteI do worry if I'm traveling alone, but mostly it's about getting lost or missing a connection or making a mistake and messing up . . . .
Like you, I'm in the invisible phase of life and I also stride with confidence. When I travel, it's mostly alone, and I don't worry.
ReplyDeleteI lived in Japan fifty years ago, and while I was the right height, I was a white young woman who didn't keep my gaze trained on the floor. I got a lot of stares and comments from men. I was studying Japanese but never learned to swear. Finally I started saying "F*** off" to the men - in English - and they got the message.
I also have a wild-haired granddaughter, who is beautiful and Black and 2 1/2. I look forward to the day when I can take her on a trip.
Congratulations on the new book - I echo Joan: can you tell us more about it?
Sorry Joan and Edith, I forgot to ask her that. We will get her to say more in the comments!
ReplyDeleteBarbara, congratulations on your new book. The cover is stunning!
ReplyDeleteI have traveled alone frequently over the years and am wary, even now. I moved to Israel by myself in 1975 and stayed there for two years. Although I spent my first 6 months learning to speak the language, it was still culture shock for me, and I tried to be careful and aware of my surroundings constantly. The culture back then was a mixture of Middle Eastern and Western, with half the population made up of the Jewish families forced to leave their Arab countries when Israel became a state in 1948. The women with that background dressed and, for the most part, behaved more modestly than Americans It was, and still is, a melting pot of people from all over the world.
In my mid-20's, I traveled through Europe with a gorgeous blond, blue-eyed friend. We bought Eurail passes and spent 6 weeks staying in pensions and walking around cities. She turned heads wherever we went, and some unwanted attention became absolutely cringeworthy. Brown hair and brown-eyed, I also had some unwanted attention but the two of us managed pretty well.
I think that women do need to be careful, even now, because we are always targets of someone. These days, I try not to bring a purse to the grocery store or on other shopping excursions for that reason.
Growing up in San Juan, Puerto Rico, with parents who let me walk around the city during the day (something my Puerto Rican girl friends weren't allowed to do), I started being aggressively approached and even followed by men from the age of 12. It was scary, but I quickly learned to keep my eyes down, ignore all comments, and, if needed, duck into shops and wait until the coast was clear. When I started traveling alone as a young adult--New York, various European cities, and Japan--I was harassed and occasionally followed, and I still found it frightening, but I knew what to do. Today, at grandmother age, I still worry about being mugged, but no one follows me, crooning obscenities. It's a great relief.
ReplyDeleteAlso of that invisible age, but I don't think I turned heads ever. My Dad was a teamster organizer when he came back from WW2 and he gave me lots of stances, stare-down advice and actual self-defense (whoops my college book-bag just hit you in the balls) moves. Then I became clergy and (even without a collar) guys sense it and, if they don't, I say "I will pray for you," which are the five unsexiest words in the English language. I'm looking forward to Elsie Turner's adventures -- the brief bits I've seen on line sound wonderful!
ReplyDeleteHi, Barbara! I know you don't remember me, but I was a backblogger on TLC, lo, these many moons ago. Nice to see you here, and to know you have yet another new book. I've been a fan since your How to Bake a Perfect Life. Nancy Martin just celebrated a birthday, and I was thinking about everyone from those days!
ReplyDeleteCan you tell us more about A Thousand Painted Hours? Intriguing title.
I have traveled alone extensively, mostly in the US, driving through all 48 contiguous states. There have been some dicey moments, but for the most part I have developed a situational awareness that has served me well. A time or two I might have overreacted in my response, but I would rather be alive and whole than foolishly polite.
Silvering hair and a lumpier physique has indeed endowed me with more invisibility. When I was in Europe on my own ten years ago I amused myself by noticing whether or not I was noticed. Mostly, glances slid right past me. It isn't always true, though. On my first trip to Paris 25 years ago, the oldest woman in our group of eight was targeted for her supposed need to be helped onto the train at CDG, and her purse neatly picked by a man who then stepped off the train as it went to the next terminal. Lesson learned!
When I was 18 I traveled with parents to Germany where a sister’s family were serving in the U.S. Army. I was a brown- haired short girl with glasses so definitely not one to attract masses of attention. But that didn’t stop the young guys from wolf whistling and stopping just short of physically approaching me. I was certainly glad to be in the company of my family.
ReplyDelete