Dear Parents, let's chat

I know riding the GO Train is exciting for your little ones. I know you want to believe in your heart of hearts that commuting on public transit is safe, especially on GO Transit and generally, it is.

But this is a much different society we live in from the one that you and I grew up in, where our parents didn't think twice about handing us a quarter so we could ride the Annette 4 bus, one whole kilometre down to Bloor Street, in Toronto's west end, at the age of 6, to attend tap dancing classes. Alone.

That's not to say nothing happened. Because it did. We just didn't talk about it as much. Or think about it as much.

Friday night I was on the 10:13 pm LSE to Oshawa. The lower section of the first coach was fairly empty. A crowd of young men and older male teens were upstairs, drunk/happy/crazy, probably from the Blue Jays game. They were loud, carrying on ... just another Friday night on the GO.

In my section sat a father with his two children. A boy about 4 and a girl about 8, maybe 9. Just around Guildwood, the young girl breezed past me before turning around to tell her father she didn't know where the bathrooms were. He says, "Upstairs. Just go". And off she went. Her body language was telling me she was a little apprehensive. I put my BlackBerry down, said out loud, "Are you serious?" Then I turned around to face the father and said, "I'd go with her". To which he replied, "She's all right."

Disgusted, I got up and told him the bathroom is the other way and went after his daughter. Like hell I'm gonna let an 8 year old girl, at this hour, walk through a train, out of site and go into a bathroom. Unsupervised.

I caught up with the girl who was standing at the top of the stairs in the upper section. She looked nervous and was clinging to the handrails. The men on that level were goofing off, one sitting on the floor in the middle of the aisle while his friend tapped him over the head with an empty beer bottle, both singing out of key. "Every Rose Has Its Thorn", I believe. I motioned to her with my hand and said, "Come with me. Let's go get your father." She hesitated and then her facial expression changed. As I turned around, I nearly collided with the girl's father. Boy, was I angry and I told him so. I'm also a stranger. But I knew if I got up and went after her, he'd at least realize the point I was trying to make. What's stopping some guy from doing the same? Right? Only my intentions were to help. But he doesn't know that. That's my point. YOU DON'T KNOW.

He knew he screwed up.

I don't care what people think about me and my actions. Having been a young girl, having been in a situation where a man took it upon himself to touch me inappropriately as I exited a TTC bus, I know it takes mere seconds for a girl to be put in a situation where she's targeted. It can happen so fast. A brush of a hand across the chest, the pressing of the groin into one's back. In no way am I implying that all men or women, regardless of age or state of sobriety are criminals lying in wait, but I am telling you, shit happens.

Be smart. Don't let your children out of sight until you're confident they can take care of themselves. Don't put them in situations where they don't have the wherewithal to know how to defend themselves. If they turn around and look unsure, get up and be a parent.

Parenting is hard. I know this much is true. I'm doing it myself but we can no longer teach our children to "swim" by throwing them into the water and hoping for the best.