Fearmongering 101 or How I Was Mistaken for a Pedophile
It never ceases to amaze me the extent to which people are willing to throw their freedoms, civility and courtesy in the trash in the name of threats that barely exist. Or how we fixate on a statistically improbable fear while keeping our heads in the sand over the real danger.
This point was thrown into sharp relief the other day in the little half acre combination dog-park and kid’s playground that is literally ten paces from the front door of my home for the past 20 some years. I’m kind of a fixture in that park as I’m there up to three times a day walking my dogs. Especially since I’ve gotten my latest puppy, I seem to be a kid magnet. They swarm out of the fenced-in kids area and surround me when I’m walking little Oscar. I’ve come to think of the park as an extension of my front yard and I’m on at least a nodding acquaintance with dozens of people because of it. So when I had a half dozen assignments to complete for my photography class, I grabbed my tripod and headed across the street. The park was heaving as a new swingset had just been installed and dedicated that morning. As I walked over, a few people nodded and one kid yelled out, “Hi Oscar’s Mom!”As I started snapping away — actually while standing in plain sight right at the entrance and up on a two foot retaining wall around the kid park, people started to come up out of curiosity. Most thought I was from the local paper documenting that morning’s swingset dedication. I chatted with some of the dads about my photography assignment and even got some good advice about what shutter speed would be fast enough to capture a running kid.
All of a sudden, a mother barreled up to me and barked:
“May I ask WHAT you are doing here?!!”
“Hi”, I said, “I’m in a photography class and one of my assignments is to get some photographs that are typical of my neighborhood. I can’t think of anything that says ‘Noe Valley’ more than this playground.”
“Well, I don’t know who you are.”
“Oh, this is practically my front yard. I live in that yellow house there and my name is. . .”
“I don’t care what your name is, I’m extremely uncomfortable with you photographing children. I don’t know who you are and what you are doing.”
“I’m taking some pictures for photography class, I live right over there and my name is. . .”
“I don’t care about your name. I’m uncomfortable with you photographing children. You need to get out of here immediately!”
Since I’d been chatting with parents and kids most of the time I was shooting — and many of the kids and parents were familiar faces to me from three times daily trips to the park with the dogs — I was taken aback at her anger and orders. I made a mistaken attempt to diffuse the situation with humor.
“Dear me, you don’t think I’m a child molester. I don’t even own a trenchcoat. I’m just a budding photography student. I’m from that house over there. We may be neighbors. My name is. . .”
“Child molesters come in all shapes and sizes and not all of them wear trenchcoats. Yes you could be one and I’m telling you I’m uncomfortable with you taking pictures of children when I don’t know why you are doing it.”
“I’m doing it for a photography class and I’d like to introduce myself. My name is. . .”
“I’m TELLING you I’m uncomfortable with you photographing children.”
Now if someone is reacting that badly, my policy is always: stand down. Things like this are not worth fighting over. So I packed up my tripod. As I walked across the street, Momzilla screeched out, “You know child molesters come in all shapes and sizes and I want you out of here.”
I should have been worried about how this last sally was going to affect how my nodding acquaintances in the park are going to look at me now. But foolishly, I was fixated on how I’d “get out” to her satisfaction, since I was practically standing on my front doorstep!
I entered my house to hear the dogs barking frantically with that, “I need to get to the park NOW to relieve myself or else” kind of bark. That always puts me on autopilot. I grab the leashes and get the dogs to the grass as soon as I can. I’d entered the park (the dog park side that was outside the fenced kid area) before I realized that it had been just one minute since Momzilla had threatened me with Citizens Arrest.
Sure enough, she caught sight of me. Glared over, picked up her cell phone and waved it at me, then mimed that she was calling the police.
Maybe I should back up and point out how statistically unlikely it is that I would be a child molester. The vast majority of molestation comes from Daddy, Cousin Joey, Uncle Buck, Father Frank, your daycare provider and other people who can finagle alone time with your kids. Not from small, blonde middle aged ladies in tweed skirts who have absolutely NO private access to your children. Sure there are female child molesters, but aren’t they usually teachers trolling the halls of the local Junior High? And while, I have heard of child molesters who photograph children at parks. Wouldn’t they be more likely to be hunched down in parked cars behind tinted glass with telephoto lenses. Certainly not in plain view and chatting with the local dads.
My point being: by all the statistics and probabilities this woman’s child is not even infinitesimally safer from a child molester than before she grossly insulted someone who might actually be her neighbor. And for those feeble gains, what has she lost.
I guess I’m thinking that if the only way you think you can protect your kid is to be unbearably rude and suspect everyone of being a monster, well, you’ve won a meaningless skirmish. But you’ve kind of lost a much bigger battle in many ways. She’s created an atmosphere of paranoia and fear for her own child who probably now thinks all adults are lurking ready to pounce on him. She’s created tension and distrust in a neighborhood setting, when we are all in dire need of tighter neighborhoods.
And what of my actions? Should I have asked permission of every parent in the park before shooting? Well, according to the law, there is no expectation of privacy in public spaces and I’m free to photograph at will. Even over the fence into a neighbor’s back yard. (Not that I would ever do such a thing.) I always ask permission in foreign countries before shooting to make sure I respect local customs. Certainly to any parent who had said politely, “Can you not photograph my kid. The one over there in the red pants”, I would have immediately respected their wishes.
Again, I wonder at this mother’s misplaced paranoia. Does she worry about the hundreds of surveillance cameras — many operated by unregulated private security companies — that are tracking our every move each day? Does she actively protect that park from real dangers? I’ve lived in the neighborhood long enough that I remember the days before gentrification when gangbangers, drug deals and occasional gunfire were almost nightly occurrences. Over the years, my fellow dog owners and our neighborhood watch — aided of course by gentrification — cleaned up that park. But I’m still, by dint of living practically on top of it, stopping stray kids from running out in the street, asking the few out-of-neighborhood pitbull owners who sometimes visit to put their dogs on leashes when kids are around, and in general being the REAL safety monitor of our little park.
So we worry about Osama Bin Laden when the real danger is our own homegrown nuts and malcontents armed to the teeth thanks to the efforts of the NRA. We fixate on illegal aliens taking our jobs when the actual threat to our livelihood and jobs are the Wal-Mart retailers and our escalating deficits. We obsess about which candidates are more Christian Than Thou while never asking who is going to most quickly address global warming and institute ecological policies to reverse our Earth’s slide into an ever more toxic and imperiled state.
Can we get our eyes back on the ball here?
If we can tamp down the knee-jerk media-fueled paranoia, maybe we can all assess and take steps to curb the REAL threats to our children’s safety and future.
your Origami reporter,
blue state cowgirl
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February 22nd, 2008 at 5:31 pm
Heya, what happened with that lady, did she actually call the police? Did they show up? How ludicrous that she just barked orders at you. I would have cussed her sorry ass out. How dare she even insinuate something like that and try to slander you in front of your neighbors. If you suffer any damages for it, she’s responsible. She can’t just go accusing people with no concrete proof. She decided you were guilty before even getting the facts. I’m doing an early childhood education class right now in college and one of my term assignments is a child study. Thankfully I am able to observe one of my young relatives, but God forbid I approach anyone and ask to observe their kids motor skills for my class! HA I can only imagine how that would go over! Oh yeah back in NY we lived across the street from a grade school where my niece attended. My mom (then in her 60’s) used to walk to the store with her little cart and one day she stopped by the school to wave to her granddaughter who was with the other kids in the schoolyard. This security guard from the school came tramping over telling her she couldn’t stand there! Do you believe that?? It’s HER grandkid, she lives right across the street and she’s freaking in her 60’s with white hair, a cane and a little shopping cart with groceries in it. That stupid security guard KNEW us, also. She knew my niece went to that school and she was just being a stupid bitch about it. Nice that she’s watching but come on, use common sense. And unless I am mistaken (correct me if I am), isn’t it legal to stand anywhere you want on a public sidewalk? Or are there some off limit parameters around schools? There are bars, strip clubs and pedophiles living near schools, so why can’t you walk next to one and wave to your kid?