Watch Out for Cyclists

Recently I was talking to some friends about the idea of Limits and Losses. In our discussion about limits, we were sharing about limits we feel in our lives - some good and others not so good. As human beings, we are finite creatures with limits built into our DNA; our limits are not liabilities but are part of simply being human. Some of our limits are God-giving blessings and other limits are imposed on us by others. One of the challenges of life is to recognize this difference.

When it was my turn to share I explained that being a woman is one of the things that have limited me.

Confused, a lady asked me to explain what I meant; she (somehow) had never felt like she had been limited due to her femininity. 

I tried to explain myself, but couldn't find adequate words, only example after example of ways I have experienced this limit.

The next day, I noticed a woman penned an analogy that helped give better definition to what I was trying to communicate:

Being a woman is kind of like being a cyclist in a city where all the cars represent men.

You're supposed to be able to share the road equally with cars, but that's not how it works.

The roads are built for cars and you spend a great deal of physical, mental and emotional energy operating on the defense and trying not to get hurt.

Some of the cars WANT you to get hurt. They think you don't have any place on the road at all.

And if you do get hurt by a car, people make excuses that it's the fault of the cyclist not the fault of the car.

Wow - what a fabulous analogy. The cars are not wrong for driving on the road nor are the cyclists wrong for riding on the road. The conflict comes when the more powerful vehicle (which has the potential for life-taking damage) is not aware of the speed, space, and scope of his vehicle. Whether unaware or purposeful, great harm can come from a driver who is simple unaware.

Years ago when I was first learning to drive, I was taught that before merging into traffic or changing lanes I needed to always look twice for motorcyclists. I had a few friends who drove motorcycles and had heard some terrifying stories from their personal experience about accidents and near-misses. It set in me an attitude to always watch-out for and be aware of motorcyclists driving near or toward me.

In thinking about the analogy of women as cyclists on a road with men I wondered how many "accidents" we could avoid by simply watching for and being aware of women around us. What would it take for men to be aware of the danger of "cycling" and to create a space where women don't feel they have to be constantly on the defense. 

This analogy struck me at a practical level because I am someone who actually loves to ride my bike. I am also someone who has an exaggerated fear of riding a bike with cars. None of my three children ride bikes and I wonder how much of that is my own fear I have projected onto them. The fear of not trusting drivers on the road. 

Unfortunately, I have a similar fear of men in power who are unaware of the damage and pain they cause to women. I don't typically work with men who are intentional in their "poor driving," but I have worked with many men who were simply unaware; good, kind men who were never taught to look twice for how their decisions and behavior may affect the women around them.

Is part of the solution changing the vehicles/bicycles? Is it reducing the motor-power of vehicles and reinforcing bikes with protective gear? Changing how our "roads" are built? Of course it would be easier to limit cyclists from riding on the roads or to limit engine-powered vehicles from driving on bike-paths. We all know the ease of being with people similar to ourselves. But how do we travel some of these roads together? How can we work alongside one another?

That's enough of my rambling for today. I continue to hold out hope that one day we can all journey together without fear of one another but in celebration of our differences.