Thoughts about fear

passionfruit flower with bee

When I was working at Hollywood Fringe's closing night party and awards show recently, I walked past a woman who stopped me to say, "You made me feel unsafe." I was taken by surprise. My mind briefly considered, was she kidding? Had I had some interaction with her where I acted like a goof and she was joking about that? As those thoughts passed through my mind and presumably an expression of confusion passed over my face, I don't remember if I gestured towards her or said something like "I'm sorry?" but she followed up with, "I'm going to report it, but I just wanted you to know you made me feel unsafe." 

I had been hurrying away from our merch table toward backstage because I was set to announce one of the first awards. She did not seem to want to engage in conversation with me, so I just said, "Okay," and walked away. 

I had never seen that woman before that moment or had any interaction with her, as far I know. But I was wearing watermelon earrings and had a keffiyeh tied around my waist. I wear these symbols of Palestine to signal to everyone my support of Palestine and my condemnation of Israel and the US's genocide of Palestinians. It feels like the very least I can do in the midst of the never-ending horrors in Gaza that I witness on a daily basis. 

(That, and share posts from Palestinians on Instagram, where I seem to be currently "shadow-banned." I never really knew what that meant, but earlier in June, at Fringe's opening night party, a new Fringe friend followed me while standing next to me. They and I were surprised to see a warning pop up, something along the lines of, "Be careful with this account." Shortly thereafter I noticed that every time I clicked to follow someone--someone with a public account--I saw a notification that they would need to review my request.)

Isn't it bonkers? My watermelon earrings and keffiyeh sparked fear in someone to the point that they left our event early. Maybe, probably, they had other stuff going on, and seeing these symbols of Palestine was the last straw for them. It reminds me of FB friends I no longer have, people who unfriended me because of my "one-sidedness" regarding Palestine. One cited how her fiance was afraid for her to leave the house wearing her Star of David, for fear she would be harmed for being Jewish. 

I feel empathy for people who feel this much fear. I understand that their fear is based in their lived experience and perception of the world. And I know my own lived experience and perception of the world is very different. I don't feel the same fears as others. I don't fear being attacked because of antisemitism or Islamophobia, I am neither Jewish nor Muslim and I am obviously White. And though I am a woman, I don't fear being attacked for my perceived gender. I'm thinking now of my friend who was not comfortable walking around our old neighborhood of East Hollywood after dark. I don't know all the details of her history, but I know her trust had been betrayed by men in her life and that impacted her perception of the world. I have been sexually harassed but never sexually assaulted, or assaulted in any way. 

I don't know exactly how to hold all this. Though I feel empathy for people who are deeply afraid of the world around them, I think we should draw clear distinctions between feelings of fear and actual harm or unsafe conditions. That woman at the closing night party was not actually unsafe because of my keffiyeh and earrings. Her feelings that she was unsafe is something she needs to unpack with her loved ones or a therapist, not something I need to change my wardrobe choices for. 

I'm part of a committee planning an event at a local park. Someone who's a part of the overall group the committee springs from suggested that we get the sheriff's department to clear out the folks who congregate and hang out around some of the picnic tables at the park, so that people coming to our event feel safer. But the people hanging out around the picnic tables aren't harming anyone. Officers with guns are more likely to harm someone than the people drinking alcohol at the park. 

Part of me feels very hardened about this. Like I just want to say, get over your fear, because the actions you take, driven by your fear, cause harm. But I know that won't help. 

Have you ever stopped to think about what a fear-driven society we live in? It causes us so much harm and we're just so used to living with it, we think it has to be this way. 

And I haven't even talked about fear-driven parenting. 

The antidote to so many of society's ills is community. Capitalism thrives on separating us from one another. I wish that woman had been willing to talk with me. Perhaps I should have made more of an effort to engage with her and let someone else announce that first award. I don't think she was really in the space to accept that, but in the moment, I didn't take the time to really pause, breathe, and offer her more space, so I'll never know for sure. 

At the same time, I think fears like hers are given too much weight. So much weight, that it is used to silence those speaking out against genocide. 

I don't know all the right answers. But I know I felt emboldened to speak out about Palestine because some of my friends were already doing it. I hope my speaking out has emboldened even more. Don't let fear stand in the way of using your voice to oppose the murder of thousands upon thousands of Palestinians, and other injustices around the world and right here at home.