Ordinary Fear
In 1974, I was a young undergraduate at Ohio State University when I worked at the OSU
Behavioral Sciences Laboratory doing door-to-door surveys. Overall I enjoyed the survey work. People were willing enough to do my surveys, succumbing to my cold call skills enough for me to talk them through fifty or even a hundred survey questions; and they often gave interesting answers.
However, this door-to-door survey work required me to go into the homes of strangers, and to sit in their living rooms, working them through surveys, while they thought who-knows-what sort of thoughts. But I kept myself in denial about the risks because most people are decent enough, I needed money and the pay was good. I hoped to be safe in my work. Then one day something happened, and I quit that survey work on the spot, feeling relieved to escape with my life. I have repressed the incident so completely that after over half a century I cannot remember it, other than I remember the fear that I felt as I struggled to escape. It sickens me so much that I cannot force myself to remember. From this great distance of time and the repression of my young fear of violence, my fear becomes ordinary, of no special quality or interest; commonplace and unexceptional. Violence at work and home happens to so many women, men, children, and other vulnerables.
My Fear Of Violence Became Ordinary Over Time
by Annmarie Throckmorton, copyright 2024
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