To the guy who yelled “Safety First!” at me tonight

Dear Dude,

Tonight, while I was riding my bike on the somewhat well-lit nighttime streets of Phoenix, my bright orange reflective vest over my darker-colored clothes, my helmet buckled under my chin,  you yelled “Safety First!” and had a good laugh with your friends.

To be honest, Dude, I wasn’t sure what to do. My first thought was: Why, Dude? You were standing at a crosswalk with a group of people; I rode past you and gave you plenty of space. For a little more safety, I was on the sidewalk (the road is particularly narrow and crowded where you were standing, despite the bike lane.) I thought about stopping and saying, “Did that make you feel better?” I thought about yelling back, “Exactly!” I thought about asking you exactly what about my “safety first” bike attire made you uncomfortable.

But I didn’t.

But I did let it ramble around in my head tonight. I thought, why is it so funny for me to be safe? We don’t make fun of boxers for having teeth guards. We don’t make of Lance Armstrong’s helmet. Nobody makes fun of football players for all their padding.

(Okay, maybe rugby players do.)

So why me? What’s funny about safety?I came to a few conclusions about why you thought it was necessary to take me out of my moment of bliss, gliding through the air on my bicycle.

First, my obvious safety attire made you uncomfortable because it reminds you that you’re mortal, just like me. There may be situations where I can’t control my mortality, but I like to give myself the best shot possible. So making myself visible from a distance when riding beside one-ton vehicles? Wearing a helmet in case of a fall? It’s worth looking like a lost construction worker.

Second, it offended your idea of what a girl on a bike should look like. Should I be wearing a skirt? Should I have curled my hair for this affair? And goodness, no, my hair should definitely not be pulled back for the convenience of a helmet. Let it fly free! And, of course, that vest. That bright orange vest. I do know that it’s not flattering, right?

Dude, one day you might have kids, and you’ll be teaching them to ride their bike and you will demand, no question, that they wear their helmets. Because in your desperation to keep them safe you will also recognize their mortality and do everything you can to protect them from the things you can’t control. And maybe one day, your daughter (who, by listening to the media and maybe to you will think that her value is only as good as her appearance) will say, but Dad, I don’t look cute in this helmet and orange vest. I’m only going just down the road, and there are a few street lights. Don’t worry so much.

Maybe you’ll think of me, maybe you won’t, when you probably say to her, “There is nothing cuter than your brains being inside your head. There is nothing cuter than you not getting hit by a car.”

So, Dude, I hope you got something out of your quip as I rode by. Maybe your buddies thought it was hilarious that you reduced someone’s value to their clothing. Maybe the girls standing next to you thought it was really funny (and also made a note never to wear an orange vest, no matter how much safer they would feel and be) and you’ll have a good time out on the town tonight. Maybe someday you’ll empathize with someone who wants to avoid death in as many situations as she can, even when it means not looking like Mary Poppins.

In the meantime, I got to and from my destination safely, despite hundreds of distracted drivers passing me by, and I got to call my husband and tell him I got home okay.

Safety First,
Colleen