The Weight of an Evening Walk
The shift from a morning walk (symbolising peace and solitude) to a night walk (often associated with fear and danger) is a strong contrast, reinforcing both sets of themes.
A follow up silent night walk invited deeper contemplation of the experiences a lot of minorities face, whether that is gender, race, disabilities, age. The walk aimed to create a space for reflection on safety, visibility and autonomy in public spaces.
Before walking, I shared an excerpt from 'The Walk Collection', which highlighted the vulnerability many feel walking in public at night. I opened up a discussion, posing some questions to the group:
How do you feel when walking alone at night compared to the day?
E.g, do your behaviours or mindset change?
Have you ever altered your route or habits to feel safer?
What does that say about our relationship with public spaces?
How does walking as a group impact your sense of safety and autonomy?
How would we make public spaces feel safer for everyone?
How do we reclaim autonomy in spaces that feel unsafe or limiting?
After this, we took our short walk in silence to contemplate safety, visibility and autonomy in public spaces.
Excerpt from Walk Two of The Walk Collection
The topic of walking alone surfaces, and she shares that she enjoys it, but like many women she can’t help but feel a lingering unease. This feeling of being on edge isn’t so much during the day, but much more at night. I’m reminded of the contrast in the relationship women have with day and night, an experience that men tend to be unaware of. It’s a shared feeling she voices, one that resonates with many. Even men who fear walking alone at night, they share a common apprehension - a fear of other men. It’s ultimately a reality we all navigate.
She speaks of periods where she is more aware, times where she’s hyper-vigilant, and will steer clear of darker paths. Her home near Leith Walk, although known for its rough reputation, feels secure due to it being a highly populated main road with people constantly around. Unlike somewhere like the Meadows, she's well aware of incidents in these seemingly inclusive public places, leading her to avoid them altogether.
Sometimes she walks with headphones on and no music playing at all, a signal of disinterest to unwelcome attention, but so she can still be very much aware. We discuss the reflex to pause our music when approaching a group - all of these safety mechanisms we have, just to feel safe, ingrained in our daily lives. Whilst neither of us have personally experienced the attack or assault in the streets we are afraid of, our vigilance isn’t an indication of disbelief in similar incidents.
Prior to walking her self-consciousness prompts her to anticipate how long the journey will take. She’s careful not to appear lost or vulnerable, even when she is not. With the newfound security of a bus pass, she's eager to make the most of it, recognising it as the safer option. We reflect on the constant vulnerability women feel while navigating the places they live.
