The independent student newspaper at the University of Illinois since 1871

The Daily Illini

The independent student newspaper at the University of Illinois since 1871

The Daily Illini

The independent student newspaper at the University of Illinois since 1871

The Daily Illini

The independent student newspaper at the University of Illinois since 1871

The Daily Illini

People are scary when you’re a stranger

Sometimes, I’m more frightening than I really want to be.

No, I’m not referring to my attempts to use humor in the classroom (those end up far more awkward than frightening); I do mean actually frightening. Scary. Worrisome.

Every now and again, I find myself walking through the streets of Champaign after dark. I know Champaign is a reasonably safe place to live, and I do keep to well-lit, highly frequented streets; nevertheless, when there’s barely a car or two in sight and I hear a pair of footsteps behind me, it can get my heart beating a little faster.

Which, as I write it, does feel a little silly. I’m 24, male, tall and broad enough that I fit the description of the stereotypical mugger much more than the stereotypical muggee.

And that makes me wonder how other people see me as I walk down the street on those lonely Champaign nights.

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I tend to talk to myself and gesture as I walk, so I imagine I only need an ever-present-despite-the-weather hoodie and a pair of dark sunglasses to complete the look of a demented psychopath. When I’m joined by that solitary pair of footsteps, I’m likely more frightening than frightened. Still, I try to shake anyone’s misconception of me as much as I can, offering a friendly smile and nod of the head to anyone I happen to meet coming the opposite direction.

If I seem a bit stuck on the topic, it’s because I did get a much larger fright the other evening. I heard glass shattering and what sounded like rocks being thrown into a nearby apartment. I flicked off all my lights and grabbed the largest knife from the kitchen in case I needed to defend myself, but beyond that I was caught in a moment of cowardly indecision: I had seen the apartment’s tenant — or so I believed — outside not long before, and was unsure if they had forgotten their keys and lost patience with any other ways of re-entering their apartment.

So I stood for a long time, thinking. Should I stick my head out and see what was the matter with my neighbor (knife clutched discreetly behind my back, just in case), or should I call the police? In the end, it didn’t matter: someone else called the police.

Though I do not know the details of the situation, I feel as though there was no violent intent, and I was perfectly safe despite the damage being dealt to the poor window. It was, in some part, an unintentional frightening.

That I can appreciate. When walking home at night, I catch the eyes of some people with my smile-and-nod, and they immediately duck their head and shuffle by as quick as they can. I might dismiss it for social awkwardness around strangers were it not for the frowns on their faces.

It’s irritating in a way that’s hard to explain, like an itch in my lungs that wants to jump out and shout, “Hey! I’m not a bad guy, all right? There’s no reason to be afraid of me.”

It would be trite to say it’s the fear of the unknown; calling it a cliché would itself be cliché. There’s no way to reason with the part of our brains that gets nervous at the sound of footsteps on a dark night, and shouting would only result in more nervousness.

It’s a sad fact of life, that we can, despite all intentions otherwise, upset, disturb or frighten people: perfectly innocent actions may be interpreted otherwise. At night, when the normal societal security of light and crowds are missing, we may catch a glimpse of each other for a moment, and something in one of us — whether it be gender, age, race, build or type of facial hair — sets off the wrong thing in the other.

I don’t think there’s any advice I can give that would make such situations better.

But I will say, if you find yourself in that place, dear reader, bumping into a stranger at night, unsure of how to act, and if they try to diffuse the tension with a sheepish smile and a little wave…

Please.

Smile back.

We don’t like to be thought of as the bad guy.

_Joseph is a graduate student._

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