I'm Not Invincible

Just before choir rehearsal this week, a woman in the choir got mugged right outside the church where we rehearse. I mostly told the story over at Metroblogging already.

I was already inside at another rehearsal while this was going on outside. There's nothing anyone could have done differently. Well, okay, the piece of shit that mugged her could have not done that. But she couldn't have done anything. I couldn't have done anything. I could not have made different choices that would have allowed me to prevent that.

I feel guilty for feeling relieved that it wasn't me.

I felt terrible that I made Missy park at the far end of the church parking lot anticipating being able to get out more quickly after rehearsal, and than ran to the door because it was cold, leaving her behind to grab her stuff out of the car. What if he had been parked on the street or hiding behind a tree, just across the sidewalk from the less-well-lit end of the parking lot where we parked?

I imagined what I might do if it had been me. Part of me thinks that because I'm black that makes me less of a target. Like a brotha would cut me some slack. Or like I could have talked him out of it. Or like being black makes me somehow come off as Less Safe to Fuck With. I've never had anything really bad happen to me. That's probably really naive. The one time my car was broken into, it was parked in the backyard at my parents' house.

It wasn't even me, and I feel violated and somehow responsible.