On a recent trip to Virginia and Pennsylvania, I tried using the trip to teach my daughter to travel safely.
I keep a personal alarm in my bag and we both know how to set off the alarms on our phones. I also carry a knife, though it is just a penknife and I have ever only used it to remove forgotten tags from clothing. It sets off alarms in every federal building I enter. I joke that, by the time I locate it in my purse, I will be shot dead by a potential mugger. Yet I always keep it in on me. Just knowing it is there makes me feel safer, even if it is really little more than a useless token.
I am never the person who gets robbed on vacation. I have stood next to others who have, but no one has grabbed my wallet since high school. I never forgot that expensive lesson, and so I point out women who leave their bags open and unguarded. I explain how easily a thief could walk by a set-up like that and grab a wallet. I chastised Kay for not holding onto her bag at a restaurant and walking away from it.
While traveling, I use a crossover bag with wire-reinforced straps that cannot be cut. I use safes in every hotel room that has one. On those nights that I just pull off a highway into what is inevitably a seedy motel, I ask to park under a light or by the office. The hanging door alarms I bought online are always used.
If there is an immediate problem, I have taught Kay to look for women, especially those with children. A man with children is her second-best bet. And I try to tell her to always be aware, quite the trick in this age of AirPods and screens.
My daughter makes fun of me for immediately locking the car doors once we are inside, but I always play it safe. I think these little precautions are important, especially in a world that is only going to get more crowded.
Kay will be getting her permit next year and then we will be having entirely different discussions. What she does not know is that I took our tired Hyundai in for an overhaul before we left. I made sure the tire pressure was reduced for that very hot first week of travel, asking the man at the garage to let a little air out to ensure the tires would be able to expand in high heat. I checked the brakes and spoke lovingly to ThelmLou, who hit over 168,000 miles on the trip.
I have taught Kay to always carry an ID. A copy of her passport was left with her when she went to the National History Academy this summer, but the passport itself was left with a teacher. We thought she needed it to get into the White House, though she was never asked to show it. I explained that copies of important papers, such as a driver’s license and her passport ID, should always be copied and left hidden in her luggage.
I am also big on clips and carabiners. I have a travel wallet I can clip right inside my purse. I once had a canvas bag made that exactly fit the parameters for carry-on luggage. I had a matching canvas tote made with hidden pockets so that I could slide a camera or a wallet into it and no one would see either while the bag was open.
I am sure my daughter thinks I am a nut. I know she thinks I fuss too much over these things, but I have traveled all over the country and to many parts of the world alone. Modes of transport have included everything but a scooter. I am ashamed to say that there was a time in my callow youth when I would hitchhike. My college boyfriend and I hitched all over Ireland and Scotland after freshman year, and when I returned home, I used to thumb between the Boston College Law School and the now-defunct Tab Newspapers, where I was the first intern.
One day a man in his 30s picked me up and asked me what would happen if he did not stop and let me out. I said nothing. I shrank away from him and looked out the window of a moving car and felt my heart beating twice as fast is it normally did. My hands were instantly clammy.
He asked if he had scared me. I mutely nodded.
“I work at a rape crisis center. I pick up girls like you all the time. And I deal with girls who end up at the center,” he said. “Never, ever do this again, OK?”
I nodded in his direction. He drove me to the door of the newspaper. I didn’t know if he had been a nutcase or if he truly wanted to help, but I never stuck my thumb out again. Suddenly all of my bravery blew away. I started getting smarter.
I don’t think Kay would ever be as stupid as I was. I can’t see her hitchhiking or taking a ride from someone she just met, but there are so many things we learn over the years, things only experience brings.
We learn to hide our pin numbers at the ATM, or how to react, or not react, when those inevitable catcalls start. When is it safe to talk to that cute guy in a bar or coffee shop? At her age I am sure she thinks everyone is safe, but all women who travel alone have met that person who attaches him- or herself and is hard to shake loose. I want Kay to be able to know when she should duck out a side door and when it is okay to share a number.
On this trip I tried to show Kay what I could. Each time she travels, even on a day trip, I know she will learn more. I am also going to make sure that she takes a self-defense course before college starts because I think the best way to protect yourself when traveling alone is to look like you can take down anyone who bothers you. Having grown up in a city, I know how to project that “don’t mess with me” aura. It is something I want my daughter to learn.
