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Reader Soapbox: Outraged over hit and run assault

When it involves a vehicle, hit and run has serious legal and moral consequences for the offender. When a pedestrian strikes an unknown person and dashes off, the consequences also need to be taken seriously. I certainly got a shocking reminder Feb.
soapbox

When it involves a vehicle, hit and run has serious legal and moral consequences for the offender. When a pedestrian strikes an unknown person and dashes off, the consequences also need to be taken seriously. 

I certainly got a shocking reminder Feb. 19. I got off the No. 9 bus at Broadway and Yew Street at 4 p.m. on a sunny afternoon and proceeded along Yew towards my home.

At a fair distance behind me I heard the loud voices of some teens. At first, I just thought “kids out of school” but listening to their bizarre “Who wants to be my Valentine?” bellowed four days after Valentine’s Day, I surmised that they were probably high on something.

I kept walking. I was half a block away from the voices when I was assaulted by a powerful slap on the rear. As I wheeled around in shock, I saw a boy dashing back the half block to Broadway where his male and female friends stood laughing and snickering.

No attempt was made to grab my purse. So why was I targeted? Because I was in the wrong place and the wrong time. Because I was the most vulnerable person around being female and 62 years old. Because I hadn’t looked at the teens and so would be unlikely to identify them.

The shock and rage I felt at such a cruel, disrespectful violation of my person will linger for a long time. Despite the help of a kind man, the reassurance of another nearby teen who, with sad eyes said, “I hope you don’t think we are all like that” and the prompt and sympathetic handling by the police, I still ask myself the question Scilla Elworthy asks on TED Talks: “How do we fight bullies without becoming thugs?”

I certainly swore at them and had enough adrenalin to give chase and enough anger to want to beat up the vicious fellow who hit me. However, this isn’t the answer. It simply doesn’t solve the problem. It compounds it.

As to prevention, if you hear out-of-control loud voices. look and register height, hair colour, age, clothing, mannerisms or anything that will help you identify the individuals. Report any assault that happens or that you witness. However, we need to go further than that. We need to ask, what kind of society have we created where this senseless crime brings pleasure to a few young people? Blame isn’t enough. Even justice may not be enough. We need prevention and for that we need far deeper understanding of the problems and fears our youth face today.

Although I have taught high school, college and university for 39 years, I don’t have kids or grandkids so I’ve been talking with as many young people as I can. Their honesty, openness, sympathy and wisdom have done much to assure me that there are many fine young people in our city.

The reactions of those who have heard my tale are as odd as the incident itself. It ranged from serious concern, stunned horror, and tears to inappropriate laughter, sexist remarks, and prejudiced comments.

A female acquaintance laughed when I related the story about half an hour after it happened, but immediately apologized when she saw my horrified reaction. Later I realized that it’s natural sometimes to laugh inappropriately at shocking events as a way of letting out complicated emotions. In fact, the next day a local store clerk when he heard of the assault began to cry and was very distraught at the senselessness of the crime.

A man at the scene who helped me just after the attack was serious, logical and supportive while two 30-something guys who walked by reacted by saying “Well maybe you just have a nice ass”! I felt like saying, would it be so funny if someone smacked you in the groin? But I was too stunned by their misogyny to be witty at the time.

As for “hit and run” criminals on sidewalks: Beware, we baby boomers, don’t take such cruelty lightly. We’ll fight back. But not with violence, I hope.

Vancouver-born Beth Coleman has taught English and theatre from Prince George to Abu Dhabi.