When I was a young man, the rules of walking down a sidewalk were simple and rooted in a quiet kind of care. I was taught that a man should always walk on the outside—between the road and the woman he was with.

We were told it was a throwback to the horse-and-buggy days. In those times, the “curbside” position was a way to protect your companion from the literal filth of the street—the spray of mud from a passing carriage or the dust kicked up by a team of horses. It was a small, physical way to say, “I will take the mess so you don’t have to.”

I look at our streets today, and I see that the custom continues. But the “mess” we are protecting each other from has turned lethal.

In a country where mass shootings and drive-by violence have become a rhythmic part of our news cycle, that step to the outside of the sidewalk has taken on a terrifying new meaning. We aren’t shielding our loved ones from mud anymore; we are positioning ourselves to take the first rounds of a semi-automatic weapon. We have traded the dirt of a passing buggy for the lead of a passing shooter.

A Transformation of Shame

There is a profound shame in this evolution. How did we allow a gesture of gentleness to be co-opted by a culture of violence? When we talk about “the way things used to be,” we often get lost in nostalgia. But this isn’t just nostalgia—it’s a diagnostic report on the state of the American soul.

As a society, we have accepted a level of public danger that forces us to subconsciously calculate “fields of fire” while walking to dinner or a movie. Our chivalry has been drafted into a war we never asked for, in places that used to be sacred or at least safe: our schools, our grocery stores, and our neighborhood sidewalks.

Our Faith and Our Footsteps

As people of faith, we are called to walk in the way of peace. But what does that mean when the very act of walking down the street requires a mental “human shield” protocol?

The ELCA social statement on Church in Society reminds us that we are called to “work for the protection of the environment and for the well-being of all people.” That well-being is being shredded. We cannot simply keep walking on the outside of the sidewalk and call it good enough.

We must ask ourselves:

  • Are we content to live in a nation where “protection” means being a literal target?
  • How do we move from protecting our loved ones on the sidewalk to protecting our communities through advocacy, common-sense reform, and a rejection of the “culture of death”?

It is time we demand a world where a man walks on the curbside for no other reason than to keep his wife’s hem from getting dusty—not to keep her name off a memorial wall.

Shame, America. It’s time we reclaim our sidewalks and our safety.