Our everyday greetings and colloquialisms are so ingrained, we can forget what the words actually mean. Christine Schoefer has this Perspective.
At the Berkeley supermarket, I bagged my groceries and then paid. “Thank you,” I said when the cashier handed me the receipt. “Be safe out there,” he responded, smiling and nodding benevolently as though his words would avert harm from coming my way. An odd good-bye, I thought as I walked back to my car in sunny daylight.
The following day, I heard it again when I filled up at a gas station. “Be safe,” the man behind the counter called out after me. His words shifted my mood. I found myself imagining someone lighting a cigarette while fueling, a stranger grabbing me from behind, a speeding car ignoring a red light. Suddenly, the bright afternoon teemed with threats.
I’d been in Germany for seven months and wasn’t used to this newly popular farewell. At first, I thought people said it to me because I’m a petite silver haired woman. But then I heard UC students shouting it to each other on campus “Stay safe out there, man.”
The salutation makes me feel vulnerable and endangered, as though I am navigating hostile territory. Am I? Have mass shootings, boldfaced holdups, and careless drivers tainted all public spaces and every human encounter? Should I be wearing a bullet-proof vest on my errands?