Keeping Myself Safe

It was strange and counterintuitive, to find comfort in the silence.

At a young age, my mum and sister and aunts have always told me:

"Don't go out into the dark and silence alone. No one can help you if there's no one around."

I stood alone on the platform past-midnight, waiting for the next LRT to arrive. In addition to myself, there were two waiting in this area, and others spread out across the platform. I kept a reasonable distance from the tracks out of worries that someone would push me in. / purposely stood close to the stairways, wondering if I would have the stamina to run up the stairs if I needed to have a quick get away.

For young women, girls, and femmes, we have always navigated a world that has been inherently unsafe for us. All of us, we have developed a set of safety guidelines to navigate the dangers of simply existing.

Text me this safe word when you are home. Don't drink or eat something that had left your field of vision. Scream as loud as you can, grab a passerby and make a scene. Hold keys between your fingers, stab the soft spots. Run.

Suddenly, one of the individuals walked towards me and circled me, checking me out from top to bottom. I made eye contact and stared at him as he circled me for the nth time. I fumbled to get my key chain alarm and held it tight in my left hand. With my right hand, I was ready to activate the safety alert.

No one told me that being a dissident mean I can't scream, kick, punch, stab, and run away from the threats I face. I live with an unexplained fear I feel at the core of my being. Always alert to the uncertain dangers, online or in-person, wherever and however they may emerge from.

Especially after high-risk events, attending a protest or going to an advocacy meeting, I am highly alerted to every space I step into. I remember when my fellow dissident who were beaten, threaten, or even kidnapped. I wonder, if I would ever have to fight for my life like they did.

After he circled me again, he sat back down. I took this opportunity and walk towards the next waiting area with the elevators. I approached the person there and asked if I could stand beside them waiting for the next train. Without hesitation, she said yes of course. She looked at me, asked if I was okay, if there was someone else on that side of the platform. Then she told me to get on the train on the further side on the platform. We waited in silence, but both of us anxiously looked at the direction that I walked over from.

As a dissident, I don't know who to talk to, who I can rely on, or even how to begin to describe the threats I face daily.

How do I explain why I am getting calls to my hotel room that someone is "coming to get me"?

How do I explain the man that followed me home, screaming at me to open the locked doors of my condo?

How do I explain why my home internet stops working when I'm videoconferencing a MP?

How do I explain that my phone calls turn static when I mention certain terms?

How do I explain that my very existence is a threat to the political stability of the Chinese party-state apparatus?

We got onto the train, and we sat down in silence. When she got off her stop, she looked at me, as if to say, you got this. I sit alone on this midnight train, alert and watching for changes in my environment. / sent timed updates on my location, with live location sharing turned on on my phone.

I remember calling 911 and was scolded for wasting emergency resources. The 911 operator gaslit me and told me I am not in immediate danger. It is fine that THEY found my hotel room that was booked under another name, that they are coming to collect me, that they know exactly who I am and which room I am in.

Waiting for my Uber ride to arrive, I screenshot and sent the details to my family. "I should be home by this time".

I sat up from the bed, and panic washed over me. My body was shaking uncontrollably.

Community members came to my hotel room, they said they didn't see anyone suspicious around. They brought me food and coffee and comfort. We sat quietly in the cramped room. No one knew what to say, or maybe they already knew that no words would be able to comfort me.

The Uber ride was quiet, the driver dropped me off at the major street intersections around my house. I said thanks for taking my request at this late hour, and I got out of the car. Waited for the Uber to leave, and I began to walk home.

Though the Vancouver Police Department sent officers to the hotel, I never made contact with them. The officers left after talking to the hotel management.

There was no emergency, according to the hotel management and VPD.

Finally all that, I'm home. I locked the door behind me and crawled into bed.
I did it. I kept myself safe.