Self-Defense

TNG is taking a much needed break from Dec 19-Jan 4. TNG will return with new content on Jan 5. Until then, please enjoy this post from the past year. Original publish date: 9/17/08.

To the right is a photo of the Gator 6069. This is my knife. It has a fine edge clip point stainless steel blade and a handle that employs advanced thermoplastics for superior grip. It opens quickly with a flip of the wrist and fits neatly in the back pocket of my jeans. It’s also illegal to carry it in the District of Columbia.

A great deal of concern and outrage has been expressed recently in response to the many local reports of criminal violence perpetuated against homosexuals. One of the recent victims, who was the subject of the post “Where is Our Anger?” is a friend of my roommate—a disturbing fact I didn’t know until a week after this story was posted on TNG. Anti-gay violence hits home for many TNG readers who have themselves experienced it or know of someone who has, and many have left comments pertaining to this violence that reference retribution and a desire to arm themselves in self-defense.

Last weekend I was on a moving metro train speaking with my friends about this violence and theorizing about the social forces behind its creation. I shared with them the fact that I carried a knife my first couple of years in DC but eventually ceased doing so out of a belief that the practice was unnecessary (and more a vestige of my rural upbringing than my current reality). I also expressed my gut level inclination to start doing so again in an effort to protect my life and the lives of those close to me. My housemate immediately rejected this idea, saying that he didn’t have it in him to respond to an attacker with equal or greater brutality. No sooner did he speak these words than two men walked up to us at our position by the door, one of which spoke with the boom of aggression about “the white devil” and how said devil should be destroyed for what he was doing to the black community, and “faggots” who “are more Greek than the Greeks.” The talker was a wall of a man, three times my size, visibly agitated, and touched by alcohol. I don’t think either of them pegged us as homosexual, but while moving past him through the door we saw the heat in his eyes and felt the prickle of hatred from his body, and it made all of us glad that we had arrived at our metro stop. As my friends and I ascended the Shaw/Howard escalator, I turned to them and said “do you really want to run into that guy at night after you’ve both had a few drinks?”

At this point it seems clear that the Metropolitan Police Department can’t and won’t keep us safe. It’s also clear that bringing to justice those who harm us isn’t something they excel at either. The Gay and Lesbian Liaison Unit is more public relations than action, and the average police officer that actually handles these cases, while not likely to harm us, is often no less prejudiced that our attackers. Many in the DC gay community that centers in NW DC have (right or wrong) long felt that their safety was assured, but as gays become more bold in accepting their right to live openly and gay life continues to expand outward toward Columbia Heights, Logan Circle, and Shaw, that assurance is a fool’s contract. The reality is that we’re on our own.

A day after meeting black vengeance on the metro I cut myself with a butter knife while washing dishes. My first thought as the pain of lacerated skin climbed my forearm was of this man. Could I hurt him? This mother’s son, this collection of heartbeats and thoughts and ideas and complicated history, this man whose life may be depended on for the joy of others? Even if his intention was to harm me, to put me on a respirator like the gay man who was attacked on his way to BeBar last weekend, could I find it in myself to end him? Should I? What if his intentions are not to rob me or hurt me based on hatred, but to act on a usually checked prejudice undone by a fog of drunkenness, whatever matters weight him at the moment, or insecurity about his masculinity that never takes shape in his better moments when he manifests goodness and the potential to be a better man? The question still remains as one of whether it is ever acceptable to take another life, even as yours hangs in the balance.

I’ve read the many “buy a gun” comments seen on this blog, and I can only imagine how many people are contemplating their safety and reshaping their perspectives because of these beatings. I don’t have the answers. I don’t feel comfortable telling you that buying a gun is dumb because you can’t reasonably carry it around with you, you’re more likely to get caught with it than with other alternatives, you likely won’t be able to access it in time to defend yourself, you run a great risk of harming yourself accidentally or losing this weapon to your attacker, and because Hollywood tells you its easy to use one on another human being but not nearly so easy in the real world when you’re scared and possibly drunk.

I’m also not comfortable telling you that if you choose to defend yourself, a knife is your best option for concealment, quick-strike capability, and efficient disposal of a threat in close quarters. I’m not comfortable telling you that you need a weapon with a good gripping surface, and that you should pay particular attention to how well it fits your hand so that your fingers don’t slide onto the blade during a stab or thrust, or whether the knife has a finger groove for the index finger that will provide no-slip support for either your index finger during a thrusting motion, or your pinky during a stabbing motion, both of which respectively take the majority of the force of the stab during these motions. I don’t feel comfortable telling you that a good blade design will be one that is decently thick, with the tip being wide enough or strong enough to resist breaking if you were to, say, accidentally punch it into a hard surface such as a brick wall or asphalt, or that the tip of the blade should also be able to easily pierce any part of the human anatomy and be long enough to reach vital organs (3.5-4 inches), nor am I comfortable telling you that your knife should have a strong locking mechanism, because without one you run the risk of severe personal injury to yourself should the mechanism fail or collapse. Finally, It troubles me to tell you that a fight involving a knife is most always ugly, quick, and messy, and that you should be mentally resolved to strike efficiently and that you should learn beforehand how to use your weapon tactically if you are attacked.

There are no comfortable thoughts on this subject. I can only hope that none of us ever know harm, taken or given.