Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay
It’s no secret that I’m a true crime fan. Or perhaps the better word is observer. The stories are compelling because they’re real and I want to learn from people who survive difficult and dangerous circumstances. Often the shows I watch will end with the perpetrator’s sentence. And I’ve got to say that too often, those sentences suck.
As in they are too short. They are sometimes just “time served” (the worst). Or “twenty five years to life.” Which seems like a long time when you first hear it. But those years fly for the ones who survive the crime. You go through therapy perhaps; you relocate and start a new life. Then just when you think you’ve put it all behind you along comes a parole hearing. Often way earlier than the twenty five years (or whatever the sentence was) because the guy has been a real model citizen behind bars.
Think about how unfair that is. Imagine someone murdered your mom or dad when you were a toddler. Now you’re graduating from high school and in those fifteen to seventeen years the murderer has bided his time and not caused any big problems. So authorities decide they should see if the guy has changed. Because that’s what a parole hearing is about: has the perpetrator decided to live differently? Has he become a better person while in prison? Is he believable when he says (as I’m sure they all do), “I’ll never do it again?” Now you get to see the guy again (or maybe even for the first time) and essentially go through the whole trial again. Only this time, at the end of it, he might just walk away.
It’s certainly true that not everyone earns parole. And sometimes parole has nothing to do with a perpetrator’s freedom. He may simply have completed his two or eight or twelve year sentence. But regardless of the reason for release, those rapists, murderers, kidnappers, and armed home invaders are out there. Shopping for groceries at your store. Getting gas in the same places you do. Moving in with extended family who happen to be your neighbors. Waiting at a bus stop along your kid’s bike route to school.
Some of these newly freed folks have kids or grandkids. Those kids might be friends to your children or grandchildren. They attend the little league games or the third grade Christmas pageant. Isn’t that great? We’re all one big happy family. And we don’t even know it.
I don’t know what to do about this. Certainly, people have always left prison and returned to “society.” Many really do live better lives and don’t cause trouble. But we also know that plenty of them reoffend. Why else do the cops always question local registered sex offenders (and why register them in the first place) when someone goes missing or is murdered? It doesn’t matter how long anyone has been “clean” if you or someone you love is the next victim.
Safety begins with awareness, certainly. There’s no doubt that there needs to be better education about who is among us and how we interact with people we don’t know. My worldview completely changed when I read a book called The Gift of Fear. It altered my life in many ways other than just how I perceive my environment and my safety. In fact, reading it caused me to consider my personal safety for the first time. As in I can reduce risk and live with less fear in ways other than just staying shut in behind locked doors all the time.
The author, Gavin de Becker, teaches that fear is a signal that one should not, under any circumstances, ignore. Your intuition, your fear, about another person or a particular situation is coming from past experiences and knowledge you may not even realize you have. Cultivating, honoring, and obeying that inner voice is a simple (but not always easy) step toward a more secure and confident life.
I remember the first time I saw him saying that during an interview. Suddenly, I felt affirmed. I’ve had queasy feelings about situations and worries about certain people many times. Almost without fail the friends or family members I shared such concerns with criticized or even shamed me for my suspicions. You’re overreacting, they’d say. Or that’s not very nice. Perhaps even, I’m sure you’re mistaken. The problem is that eventually I believed what others told me and decided I was over dramatic or not very nice. I learned to silence my inner voice.
That silencing earned me a date with a much older man I was working with when I was sixteen and he was nearly thirty. Not only was I not interested in him, I was truly creeped out by him. But I told myself to be nice. He’s just being friendly. Give him a chance. Besides, it’s just a casual get together. I’ll tell him I just want to be friends.
Somehow another girl I worked with found out about the impending date and told me to cancel on him right away. “He’s always trying to get young, naive girls to go out with him. He’s not a good guy. Don’t go.” Her blunt admonition surprised and unnerved me but I knew somehow she must be telling me the truth.
Miraculously, I listened. After breaking off the get together, he turned into even more of a creep. Eventually management heard about his prowling and harassment (he really was always flirting and pestering the new hires) and fired him. I remember the amazed feeling that my original intuition was correct. My coworker had confirmed it instead of shaming me for it. But I still didn’t really trust myself to handle thoughts and situations like that on my own.
So when I heard de Becker say, some years later, that one should always respect that inner voice, he had my full attention. I almost immediately understood that I had been devaluing myself when I ignored my suspicions. In a way that could end up causing me serious harm. de Becker stresses that even if you’re not fully aware of the entire situation you can still accurately sense that something is wrong. One’s subconscious shortcuts to it for us and sends an alert: get out. Turn around. Say no.
Hearing and obeying one’s inner voice means that we accept that they are out there. Dishonest people; unkind ones. And certainly dangerous ones. Recognizing this truth does not mean you are a bad person who judges people too harshly or prematurely. It simply means you’re sensible and aware. If you see a mountain lion approaching you in a backwoods trail and feel that visceral fear well up in your gut, do you tell yourself, “I’m sure I’m overreacting” and just keep on sauntering towards it? Not if you want to live. You’ll stop. Stay calm. Try to remember what your wilderness experiences and training have taught you. Then you will do what you can with no concern for the animal’s feelings whatsoever.
It’s no different with human predators and make no mistake: they are predators. They’ve either been paroled or released early from incarceration. Or maybe they haven’t ever been apprehended in the first place. They’ve committed crimes and haven’t been caught. It’s not a fear mentality to understand that. It’s a survivor one. The beautiful thing is, if you listen to it and cultivate it, your intuition will help you understand who and what deserves your fear response and who or what does not. Recognizing certain creepy or dangerous behaviors from others means that when you don’t see those actions you can relax. You actually live with less fear.
There are plenty of things we can do to protect ourselves and loved ones from those with bad intent. Reading The Gift of Fear (or Safety Doesn’t Have to be Scary by Marc MacYoung or anything by Tim Larkin) so you can learn to foster and honor your internal voice is certainly an easy first step. And maybe the most important one you’ll take. Intuition really is just a shortcut to a realization from something one has learned or experienced before. It’s the same little voice that tells antelopes to run, even before they see the cheetah.
It can work for us humans as well. If we let it.