Threat often in the eye of the beholder

There have been a quite a few people that have been heard uttering things about how “threatening-looking people” are a real problem in Easton. That may sometimes be true.

But something happened to me the other night that made me think this might be an excuse for a form of prejudice masquerading as being socially acceptable.

First, let me make something clear. There are definite social problems in Easton, but there are social problems everywhere, all across America, whether it is in the country, the suburbs or the city. Violence spawned by the drug trade is of particular concern, but it’s certainly not just limited to city environs. It is, however, better reported in cities, and since there are more people per square mile, perhaps there is more violence per square mile. But is there more violence per capita? I’m not so sure.

What constitutes a threatening person? Is it the way they act? Is it the way they dress? Is it the color of their skin? Is it the music they listen to or its volume? Is it the language they speak? Are obvious cultural differences, no matter what skin color, inherently threatening?

Or, perhaps, is “threatening” a description used by people who are out of their normal element encountering someone they wouldn’t usually have direct or close contact with in their “exclusive” suburban neighborhoods? Do people sometimes move to our fair city and, in coming to “Rome” refuse to learn to live with and like the native “Romans?”

In my book, “threatening” actually poses an immediate threat to one’s physical wellbeing, not one’s cultural comfort level.
I’ve lived in Easton for nearly four years now. I moved here from New Hope, Pa., and I chose to live here. I could have moved anywhere I wanted, but I liked Easton. It had, and still has, I think, more of what New Hope had when I moved there, 15 years before, than New Hope has now. And I honestly feel no more personally threatened in Easton, than I did in New Hope. (Trust me, there are occasionally real threats in New Hope. Unlike here, however, most of those threats are transient, hard to identify with so many people passing through, and rarely if ever get caught. No Uniform Crime Reporting also means folks rarely know there’s a serious problem on the loose, either. Ask me sometime about the bank that got held up twice in a month, with the robber escaping on foot both times.)

I specifically like the fact that many people, of economic variation can live in close proximity together. I like the ethnic diversity. I like the cultural diversity. I like Easton’s lively, rich history. And Easton is more affordable, and, I thought, less snobby than certain parts of Bucks County that have been cultivating a very irksome holier-than-thou attitude as though it were some sort of virtue.

The “gentrification” Easton is attempting is developing a nasty side, a form of intolerance being brought here by people that may or may not intend to stay here, and the danger is that it may become codified as a virtue.

I moved to the center of the city about six months ago, from the West Ward. Last year, the house I was renting there got shot. (But that’s not why I moved, for the record.) And there was another shooting, with a human victim across the street from my last house, a couple of years before that, also in the West Ward.

Neither of the perpetrators looked particularly “threatening,” though it’s quite clear they posed an actual threat to the safety of the neighborhood.

My current home is very close to where folks visiting from outside Easton park regularly. Almost exclusively, these folks are white (so am I, by the way, if you can’t tell from the photo) and hail from the suburbs, often from our nearest neighboring state (very much like where I grew up). I run into them regularly, usually when they are visiting the State Theatre and I am just getting home from work.

One day last week, I was coming home. I had just been rudely run out of two parking spaces near my apartment building, but I managed to get lucky, and as someone else was pulling out, I snagged another parking spot, right in front of my own front door. Laden with groceries, briefcase, purse, reporter’s bag and a stack of papers, I got out of my car. A middle-aged suburban couple was walking down the street in the direction of the State Theatre, and as I got out of my car, they literally jumped back into the shop entrances below my apartment, the man “protecting” the woman.

How do I look like some sort of threat? I’m a five-foot-two professional woman who weighs all of 107 pounds, carrying half her weight in stuff to boot. What did they think I planned to do to them?

I smiled, but ignored them. They stayed, frozen and scowling and protecting in the shop entranceway. Juggling all my stuff, I proceeded calmly to open my front door with the key. Before I slammed the front door (it’s an old building, and it doesn’t always lock right if you don’t), I heard the woman say, “Can you believe people actually live here?”

What?!? I live in a nice building. It has four storefronts below, all occupied by thriving upscale businesses. It is not recently renovated, but it’s a well cared for building in a perfectly good neighborhood. And I was one small woman, carrying about 50 pounds. But they still felt threatened. Do they have such wonderful possessions or such great wealth that they think I wouldn’t be able to resist jumping them right there on the sidewalk? Were they blind to the numerous police officers and block watch guys on the corners? Did they honestly believe that they and the several hundred other State Theatre patrons herding down the block were about to be overrun by criminals at any moment? And if they were scared of me, what did they imagine these criminals would look like? Would they be wearing suit-jackets and carrying overloaded briefing bags?
What on earth would they have done if I’d been culturally or ethnically different from them? Or dressed less like a professional? Died of fright on the sidewalk in front of my apartment?

No one is immune. I admit there are times I’ve run into people that I’m not immediately comfortable with. However, I’ve found that a simple, direct “hello” works wonders to diffuse those situations. Recognizing a “threat” as a human being worthy of politeness and respect often makes others live up to that ideal themselves. It also brings a feeling of inclusion, instead of exclusion, and it’s easier for both parties to relate to each other, if only for a moment. But since both are likely just passing each other on the street, that’s all that’s usually needed.

Threat? It goes both ways. While it’s true that some folks are less than savory here (as is true everywhere), I’ve found that you can’t immediately tell by the way they look. Besides, all great places have their “characters.” But these visitors and possible “gentry” are threatening Easton by bringing their intolerance and ignorance with them, and perhaps leaving it behind for us to deal with when the inevitably depart.

(Originally published in The Easton News, March 30, 2006)