Something's wrong when we're afraid in our homes
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by Nancy Li |
Columns
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Last Friday I visited an elderly couple in our neighborhood. Our dinner ended just in time for the evening news, which reported that a 66-year-old woman had been "violently raped" in her second floor apartment.
As the details of the crime were reported, my friends, whose house was broken into several months ago, sank deeper into the sofa. They kept looking at each other and muttering, "What kind of a world have we come to?"
B-and-Es and violent attacks on the defenseless have become topics of everyday conversation. A single brush with violent crime is enough to traumatize anyone for life. Ever since my friends had their house broken into, they have literally lost their freedom, afraid to leave their house even for an hour. When they do go out, they circle around the block first, checking just one more time to ensure that the house is airtight.
They sometimes take a taxi, so their car can be left in the garage to show that someone is home. They ask to be picked up from the street corner and not from their front door.
Their house is not their castle; it's a fortress. Every window has metal bars behind an extra layer of Plexiglas. The blinds are always drawn. All the doors have been reinforced by sophisticated locks as well as a thick crowbar. I cannot imagine how they can get out in times of emergency.
This fear of being violated is not limited to seniors. I have friends who would jump at the sound of the doorbell when they are alone in the house.
It isn't right to feel unsafe in our own home. It isn't right when we can trust no one who comes to our door. Yes, I have heard police representatives talk about how low the actual number of murders are in each individual municipality. But statistics don't comfort me or anyone whose house had been broken into.
We seriously need to reclaim a sense of safety to our community.
