Today I became invisible.

I didn’t start off that way. No no. I wore a new coat. It’s a beautiful light brown wool that compliments my dark hair. My hair that I had put up in a bun to accentuate my favorite stud earrings and the collar of a nice white button down shirt. Today I wore my new coat.

I arrived to SFMTA 10 minutes early. I was the 8th person in line, waiting to renew my parking permit. I was excited about making it there early. I was standing in line, holding a coffee and talking quietly to my mom on the phone.

A man walking by started to yell at everyone, for no reason. We’re used to this, right? We turn our heads and ignore them. It’s fine we think. He’ll be gone in a minute and we can go on our day. I use to be that way. Until today. The day I wore my new coat. The day I became invisible.

Today the angry man walked up to me and punched me in the face. He put his hand into a fist and threw it into my face. A stranger on a the street punched me the face.

I dropped my coffee and buckled in an involuntary way to protect myself from any further punches. The man ran away. I turned to the 7 people in line ahead of me. They had all fanned out of the line to watch the man. Watch him as he ran. I looked around expecting someone to ask if I was ok. To offer to call the police for me. To say “I can’t believe that just happened!”. At the very least I expected to be acknowledged.

But that didn’t happen. Today, I was invisible. Me, just under 6-feet tall. With my new coat. Invisible. It was as if the man’s fist had some superpower that told everyone around me that I was bad news. Beware of this one, she’s dangerous. The 7 people turned their back on me and got back into the single file line.

I spun on my heels to look back up the street. Why didn’t I chase him? Was I so shocked that I forgot how to move my feet? I ran track in high school for goodness sake. I could have chased him. But I didn’t. The combined shock of being punched in the face by a stranger, and the lack of acknowledgement from the minimum of 7 eye witnesses had me pinned to the spot.

I looked back at the line I was so proud to be a part of seconds earlier. I asked if anyone else saw what happened. I asked if any of them would be willing to be an eye witness to the attack for the police. Silence. Not one single person so much as lifted an eyelash in my direction.

Back to my coat. It was new. I bought it while traveling in Europe. I would like to think that it looks nice enough that you would not mistake me for a homeless women. I would like to think that my behavior prior to the attack was civilized. And that I gave no indication of being crazy. So why did everyone pretend like nothing happened? Why did they act like I was invisible?

…I didn’t plan on posting anything. My right cheek hurts. My face is swollen. I took this picture 2 minutes ago. I should have taken one earlier. But honestly, it shouldn’t matter what I look like. It shouldn’t matter how hard he hit me. If you can’t tell, that’s fine. That’s not the point. The point is that it’s not okay. It’s not okay to hit anyone, ever.

To the man that approached me afterwards with his story he was so proud of, telling me how he has had several relationships over the years, and never not once had he hit one of his girlfriends… goodness dude. How is that something to be proud of? That’s respect 101. That’s like being proud of yourself for remembering to stop at the stop sign.

The story continues and there are many more points I would love to make. But I’m not an activist. I am not someone who likes to put my political ideologies on the table. I am not someone who posts selfies, especially ones where I am wearing no make-up. I am however an advocate for being human. For treating others with the respect you would like to receive in return.

Learn from the 7 people in line ahead of me today. Look at how they wasted an opportunity to be a bigger person, to stand-up for what’s right and to offer a kind word to a stranger because it’s the right thing to do.

It’s 2019 people. Wake up. Be polite. Go the extra mile. Change your attitude. Smile more. Talk to the people around you. Congratulate people that deserve congratulating. Celebrate the small wins. I can imagine how others may pull and manipulate and ask for pity in their stories. I challenge you to be bigger than that. This world wouldn’t be so terrible with a few more laughs thrown around. With a few more acts of generosity and of gratitude. We only get one shot at life. Stop being selfish. And start looking up.