Before and After

Today was interesting. The kids and I were playdating on the other side of town. After an early lunch, we took the kids to a little park close my friend's house. It was one that I'd never been to, but she and her kids frequent regularly. Her son's preschool uses the park as their outside space, and the nearby high school students find it a pleasant refuge. A group of boys were hanging out on the bench near the entrance, dishing the dirt. Another little grouping was enjoying the grass under a tree.

It was pristine. An empty cola can lay on the ground near the pergola but it looked awkward and out of place. The park was essentially empty, most kids undoubtedly home napping, but ours had decided that sleep was for the weak. So there we were. A fabulous play structure rested smack dab in the middle of newly laid sand. Bright fun toys were scattered about waiting to be investigated. The boys leapt out of the stroller. Heaven.

The lawn was freshly mown and bright green. The sky was refreshingly blue and the air was crisp. One lone tree blazed in it's autumnal glory. Somewhere off in the distance, a bagpiper played Amazing Grace. I remarked to my friend that it had a melancholy effect, like something grand was coming to an end. We trundled the babies around in the back seats of our strollers, hoping that they would fall asleep.

We stopped momentarily and noticed him at the same time. A willowy young man with thin dark hair and skin the colour of thai iced tea. He was wearing nylon athletic pants and a light jacket. Nondescript. He walked silently, seeming to glide across the grass. We were both looking at him and he turned his head and smiled at us. It was meant to be a smile at least, but it reminded me of The Gentlemen from Buffy's Hush. My hackles raised. We kept walking the babies in a circle.

The young man walked to the far corner of the park and began to undress. Not undress, redress. He was changing into women's clothes. We half-watched in amazement, not sure where to look. Then he started walking around. No, gliding around, like a geisha practicing her walk. Unsure. He did this for a while.

We tensed, waiting to see what would happen, but nothing did. We questioned the kids in the park to see if they came there often, and whether they had seen him before. They did, but they had not. We were prepared to protect the kids if necessary. The boys on the bench valiantly offered to take him to task if he came after them. But all he did was quietly put his masculine clothing back on, and slink away in the direction from which he came. He didn't take the women's clothes with him. Upon investigation, it seems he had a box for them stowed amongst the trees.

The kids played on, oblivious. My friend and I wondered what, if anything, we should do. He didn't do anything. As far as we know, all he wanted was an audience for his actions. And he wanted an audience. He may have been furtive, but he did nothing to hide his actions. Not even the transformation from before to after. We have no indication that he would harm anyone. But the potential is there.

Four years ago, I would have found this incident merely interesting, possibly humourous. Part of the reason that I love the city, and want to stay here, is that I want my children to grow up with a wide array of cultural experiences. I want them to be safe, but not sheltered. I want them to learn that all people, no matter what race, gender or sexual orientation are worthy of the same consideration. I think living in a big city is a good way to do this.

Today, I am a little ashamed that upon seeing someone who for all I know is completely harmless, my first thought is of the potential danger to my kids. It's a survival instinct, but that doesn't necessarily make it right.

It's a fine line between protection and exposure. This parenting thing is hard.