A threat from a distance is not a real threat if it evaporates upon approach.
Every day for a number of years I would leave school at the end of the day, don my rollerblades, skate along the bike path that ran the length of the beach in Long Beach California, basically show off my skating skills in the parking lot just past the city’s recreation complex.
At the end of each skating session I would either skate to the Silver Fox, a bar on Redondo Blvd on my way home, for a drink or two and some socializing, or across the street from the beach parking lot at the end of the bike path to Ripples. There was always an empty bar stool by the door at the former bar which made it convenient to just swoosh in and take a seat without “endangering” any other customers. If I opted for the latter bar, I would simply roll across the street at the stop sign and take the seat closest to the entrance.
Ripples was a popular Gay bar, probably still is, very well known as such by the local community. One day as I rolled across the street I passed in front of a car filled with young kids, probably high school students or lower class students at a nearby college. When I reached the curb, the driver of the car revved his engine, and, as the car sped off, its occupants yelled, “Faggot!”
I had to assume this was done so they could laugh about having done that, or in their retelling of it would relate that they had a confrontation with a “faggot” in which they triumphed when taking him on.
This happened more than once, never with the same car or occupants, though.
A few years later as an “openly Gay” teacher in Oklahoma City who was advocating for the inclusion of GLBT students by name, not implication, in school district policies on bullying, harassment, and nondiscrimination, my sexual orientation was well known to the students, the faculty, the school district, and the community at large. However, every year there was a new student who upon hearing that I was Gay, would assume they had discovered a secret, and attempted to be the one person, the first person, who would reveal the non-secret secret.
I always taught with my classroom door open, and it was a yearly occurrence that the Christopher Columbus who had discovered the known continent of my orientation would approach my classroom, yell “faggot” as he passed the door, It was always a male student, and then run down the stairs by my classroom. As in the first case, they had a story to tell, and I for my part, just as I would joke with the bouncer at Ripples’s door, would mockingly ask my classes who witnessed this if the kid really expected me to chase him down the stairs, and that if his intent was to diminish me with this display of assumed bravado, wouldn’t it be more effective if the student didn’t rely on a quick escape with no pursuit.
Recently, having the time and just living a block from the local federal building, I made a colorful sign announcing that we Gay people refused to be erased, printed out an 8.5” by 11” handout listing the many steps President Trump had taken and claimed he intended to take that would strip GLBT people of our Constitutional rights, brought these, a rainbow flag on a small pole, a bottle of ice tea, and a folding chair over to the federal building, and planted myself on the public sidewalk where I did not block foot traffic in front of the federal building and to which the federal security guards could not object, where I waved at passing cars and handed out my printouts to anyone who asked what I was doing.
I had many conversations with people ranging from homeless people to pedestrians on their way to and from the federal building and nearby juvenile court house, tenants at the local senior citizen home, one or two religious people that I politely informed that proselytizing would fall on deaf ears and if they felt they needed to they could pray for me but not preach at me, and two members of the media,
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After having done this for five days, I can report that except for two instances, there was much discussion and education, but no hatred.
As far as the two exceptions, one involved a woman slowing down, pulling close to the curb, yelling “faggot”, and then speeding off. The other involved a tough looking guy in one of those too big pick-up trucks, slowing down in the lane furthest from me, the street had two lanes, yelling “faggot”, and then tearing off ostentatiously displaying the power of his truck.
By coincidence both of these events occurred as the media people were standing near enough to watch and hear the verbal attack, and both asked if what happened bothered me.
As I had done previously, I asked how threatened was I supposed to have been by being yelled at by people who remained in their vehicles and then sped off.
I obviously would have felt threatened if either driver had gotten out and had accosted me, but under the circumstances, what threat existed from two people who had guaranteed a quick escape with no consequences or need to defend their actions.
Just as with the name calling and insults that happen on the internet within the safety of anonymity, there was no bravery in any of these instances with the cars near Ripples, the students running by a classroom door, or vehicles tearing off after the divers’ message was delivered at a distance.
Bravery would have involved a close-up, face to face meeting where there could be consequences.
These were simply Trumpian moments, moments where the threats in speeches yelled from a distance evaporate with proximity as has been seen with the president of Mexico, the Dear Leader of North Korea, and the dictator in Russia.
I do not think I would have felt threatened if on any of the following days that big, blue pickup came down the street because I would have known there would be a shouted word and a quick escape, knowing also that as in all the cases the retelling would be framed to imply bravery and bravado for the building of the teller’s self esteem and to present an act of bravery to be admired by anyone in ear shot when in reality there had been none.
I am sure Iran, having seen the repeated empty threats that evaporate with compliments and empty promises that preceded Trump’s latest threat of a consequence such as the world has never seen, sees no reason to fear Trump’s latest tweet, but has seen that allowing the bravado accompanied with compliments will merely result in claims of winning a battle never fought and an imagined forcing of one who still stands to his knees.