Self Defense for Paranoiacs

Image courtesy of lifeofpix.com

Picture this: you've just finished inhaling some chicken parm with pasta at the Union. Your friend nonchalantly announces that there's a self-defense class going on and proposes the two of you scope it out. You’ve never taken one before. What’s more, the last time you punched someone you damaged your hand more than your target. So with hopes for improvement you say, “Why not? It’ll be fun! An adventure,” and you go.


That night, I learned how to punch without breaking my fingers. I learned how to knock an assailant off their feet. I learned how to S.I.N.G. just like Sandra Bullock said to. I even learned how to flip someone over my shoulder! Suffice it to say, I felt badass.


People are empowered when they know they can protect themselves. I know I was, even though chances are slim that I will ever flip an assailant over my shoulder or spin-kick a mugger in the face. Why, then, do we breed a culture of fear? Why do we question what lurks in the shadows and defend ourselves against an invisible threat? Is it an instinct of protection or, perhaps, a consequence of the shared horrific events of our lifetime?

When I was 12, I would walk to catch the bus to camp every morning because my parents worked early. They would wake me up at seven before they left, always with the reminder to lock the door and keep my phone on me. I didn’t necessarily live far away; I'd walk down Bow Lane, around the corner of Winthrop past the fire department, and then half a mile down Court Street to the elementary school.

For context, my town is as tame as a kitten on Prozac. The biggest police-related matter occurred a couple of years ago when one of the cows escaped, ran amok around town, and knocked some fences over. Cromwell's finest corralled him after a 4-hour chase. Suffice it to say, bad things don't happen here.

The town's lack of street cred did not deter my parents from providing an extensive curriculum on stranger danger. That's why my entire body tensed when a car pulled over beside me one morning. I panicked and dialed 9-1-1 on my phone. My eyes glazed over as if my blurry vision meant they could not see me as well.  Horror scenarios played out before my eyes. They would jump out of the car, abduct me, tie me up, and drag me back to the basement of a sketchy apartment with broken windows and feral cats.

That same anxiety is why I almost refused to help an old woman with a walker bring groceries to her car. I had just finished ringing her out at the register when she requested assistance and I drew the unfortunate short straw. She walked up to a minivan and I froze. According to parents, you must always be wary of vans. She slid open the back door and hundreds of amber alerts and abduction newsreels flashed across my mind. 

I could see a man in the driver’s seat. He was hooked up to one of those portable respirators that click with every breath. I could hear the air being pushed and pulled in and out of his lungs. I assumed he was her husband, but it was just as likely he was her accomplice. I paused.

She was just standing there by the door, waiting for me to put her 24-pack of Poland Springs on the seat. I craned my neck to check if there was a more able-bodied individual lurking in the back seat. I kept my eyes diligently on her in case her limp was just for show. I considered the odds of her regaining posture and swiftly pushing me into the polyester-upholstered backseat of her Honda. Eventually, I put her groceries away and nothing bad happened.

Even telling that story now, I feel ridiculous.

Why were we brought up to fear everything? Is it because we're old enough to remember where we were on 9/11 when we became victims of a surprise attack? With potential terrors from the outside, it’s a worst-case scenario to fear threats from within. You cannot live a full life when you view your own backyard as a potential crime scene. When the blanket your child carries around everywhere is potential evidence and every interaction with a stranger is a potential abduction, you miss the experience.

It’s usually the case that the car pulled over on the side of the street just needs directions. That old woman has a bad hip and can't lift her groceries alone. That guy at the bar just thinks you're pretty and wants your number. Caution is one thing, but over-cautiousness degrades altruism to the point where we value self-preservation over goodwill.

We’re all innately suspicious because of how society is structured. We're convinced that everyone has an ulterior motive, so we put all of our energy into defensive strategies and forget to live free of restriction.

I didn’t take a self-defense class to be prepared for an attack. I wanted to burn off some chicken parm and hold my own at the next fight club meeting. It’s not something wrong with society that we want to be prepared for the unthinkable. However, our prudence encourages vigilance over the innocent. Kinship is a foreign word and society needs to re-learn its meaning if we want to maintain our humanity.