Walking into the dark

Photo by Pixabay from Pexels

"I am going to walk to Waitrose and back in under 40 min," my son announced chirpily, his face flushed from playing basketball in the golden glow of the setting desert sun. It didn't seem to cause a flutter. His brothers, one slumped over the sofa, the other walking about munching an apple, looked faintly bored. His dad, amused. Not me. It was already quite dark and the prospect of a young boy trudging alone through dimly lit, deserted back roads did not quite appeal to me. 

"Is that a good idea?" I started. "It's dark. The road is not well it. And it's quite deserted." Before I could go on and draw a stark picture of what dark nights and deserted alleyways could do to one, the dad stepped in, "It's all right. That's how kids learn and become independent." As is wont to happen in my household, between my trepidation and my husband's ebullience, we let him go. Not to worry, nothing untoward happened. The boy ran to Waitrose and back in under 40 min, quite proud of having done something that a car would have taken 20 min.

Flashback 20 years. I wouldn't even have dreamt of making any such announcements in my childhood home. It had already been ingrained within me. Dark is bad. Deserted roads are bad. Ila mullil veenalum, mullu ilayil veenalum, kedu ilakku thanne (a Malayalam proverb that roughly translates to: whether the leaf falls on the thorn, or the thorn falls on the leaf, the leaf is the one that gets hurt). Sure, so the leaf knew what to be scared of, what to avoid, through years of conditioning, now through sheer instinct. 

I am not privy to the childhood my husband would have been having a few districts up North while I was growing up well protected, but I am guessing it was not all about staying away from dark, deserted roads. I have a faint hunch he was exploring places on his own, taking unknown paths, trudging along backroads. I don't think the darkness or the desertedness would have crossed his mind, or if it had, it would have been shoved down with a good solid barrel of nee aan kutty alleda (aren't you a boy!).  

When my mind was filled with fears, my husband's was not. 

Parents didn't do this to stifle girls. Sadly, they did this to protect them, to keep them safe. Ironically, while the world allowed the thorns to roam the streets and make it unsafe for leaves, the girls had to mind their safety, stay scared, and stay in. The boys on the other hand, were encouraged to be brave, to explore, to take the lead. 

After years of teaching girls to be scared and boys to take risks, we then suddenly unleash everyone onto the same stage as adults, on the same playing field at work, and expect everyone to do the same? After a lifetime of training one to be scared and the other to take risks, we then wonder why men and women behave differently given the same situations? Why is one so bold and one so timid?

Hopefully, one day we will have the world Tagore dreamed of where the "mind is without fear, and the head is held high", where human beings respect each other, where no one needs to be scared of dark, deserted roads, and everyone has a fair, fighting chance on the seven stages of life.

[Although I have used the girl/boy binary gender scheme here, this could apply to anyone who has been raised to watch their backs versus raised to take risks. But it certainly affects large swathes of girls compared to boys.]