When a Parking Lot Becomes a Moment of Fear

I want to start by saying: What you felt matters. What you experienced is real. And you were heard.

A few weeks ago, at our Village Collective gathering, one of our community members - someone with children, someone who came hoping for connection and refreshment - was approached in the parking lot in a way that made her deeply uncomfortable. She shared:

“I saw him coming toward me, and I quickly jumped into my car (I was trying to get my children out of the car as he was approaching) and locked the doors. Even so, he came up to my door and asked me something - I’m not sure what he said exactly - but with my two young children in the car, I was in an extremely vulnerable scenario.”

Because of that, she made the painful decision not to return to the venue. She said:

“I really appreciate what you have done for the community ... but I won’t put myself in such a vulnerable situation again.”

I don’t want to downplay or soften this: it is not appropriate for a stranger to approach a woman alone, or a woman with children, in a public space where her safety is not guaranteed. That behavior is unsettling, especially when children are involved. The fear, the vulnerability - that’s not imagined. It’s real.

Why this matters

For mothers (and fathers too), being alone with children in public can already carry a subtle tension: will someone interfere, will someone judge, will someone see weakness? That tension is only amplified when someone unexpected approaches. You can feel exposed, responsible for others, without full control of the environment. The simple act of getting children in or out of a car - seems routine - is vulnerable.

Many of us don’t talk about these fears - because we’re told “nothing will happen” or “you’re overreacting.” But what if we shift that narrative: what if we instead say you were right to feel unsafe, you were right to put your children’s safety first, your instinct matters?

We want our people and our families to feel seen, safe, and known. That starts by naming what occurred. That starts by saying, “I believe you.” It starts by holding space for disappointment, frustration, hurt.

The city we live in: Balancing reality and hope

We don’t get to choose every context for our gatherings. The church is downtown. That means our surrounding area is active, dynamic, and yes - sometimes unpredictable. But that does not excuse ignoring safety, or pretending that nothing can change.

By some measures, Jackson has higher crime rates than many places. For example, Jackson’s crime rate is reported as more than twice the national average in certain property and violent crime categories. AreaVibes And in 2023, Jackson’s crime index was 501 - about 2.1 times higher than the U.S. average - though the city has seen some decreases in violent and property crime in recent years. City-Data

That said, citywide crime statistics don’t tell the full story. They don’t speak to every neighborhood, every street, every hour. There are blocks and stretches where people walk, children play, and neighbors wave to each other. They also don’t capture the intangible cost - the weight, the fear, the hesitation - that creeps in when you’re alone with your children, waiting in a car, lifting a stroller, or walking across a lot.

And one more thing: Homelessness has become more visible in recent years downtown. That can stir anxiety - but visibility alone is not a threat. The lived reality is that some people experiencing homelessness are hurting. They are not symptoms to be dismissed, nor are they huge threats. Compassion for human dignity and a commitment to safety must coexist. We can care for those on the margins while also honoring the vulnerability of mothers, children, and caretakers.

What we are doing and what we hope to grow.

I want you to see that your voice matters. The letter from Jackson First UMC is not performative. It is real - a recognition that what happened was unwelcome, unsettling, and something we must address together.

Here’s how we are responding, and what we hope to continue doing:

  • The church is increasing presence in parking areas - not as a show of force, but as a welcoming, visible presence of care (ushers, safety team, regular check-ins).

  • We will coordinate explicitly with security or safety volunteers to monitor the lot during arrival/exit times, to walk the paths between cars and the building, and to be available in view.

  • We will encourage families - especially those arriving or departing - to look out for one another. If you see a mom juggling a stroller, two kids, heavy bags, offer help. A quick wave, a hand with one item, or walking alongside for a moment can make a difference.

  • We will continue hosting in this downtown location, but we will lean harder into how we build safety into that place- not pretend safety is inherent.

  • We’ll create clearer guidance and communication for everyone attending: what to do if you feel uneasy, how to call for help, where safe walkways are, what times are busiest, etc.

We are building this as your village. If you see something, say something - not in a spirit of policing, but in spirit of care. We are neighbors first.

A message to the parent who shared this.

I am so sorry that you felt vulnerable, scared, unheard. I’m sorry that what should have felt like a moment of community felt unsafe. Thank you for your courage in sharing your experience. It matters. Your decision to prioritize your safety and your children’s is wise, not weak.

I hope we can win your trust again. I hope, in time, we can show you that community can mean watching over each other, not just inside the church walls - but in the lot, in the driveway, in the spaces in between.

Inviting the village to rise.

This work isn’t just for church leadership or safety teams. It’s for all of us. As much as we can, each of us can carry eyes, ears, presence. If you see someone struggling, even from across the lot - offer a smile, say hello, ask if they need help. Let’s look for one another.

If you have thoughts or ideas on what would make you feel safer - routes, lighting, check-ins, more visible presence - please tell us. This is not just our project; it’s yours too.

We deeply believe in a space where mothers, fathers, children, caregivers - all feel safe, held, and connected. We hope this event continues to grow into the place you want to return to. And we can’t wait to see where the village goes from here.

Previous
Previous

Hello, October! Fall Fun Happens Here in Jackson

Next
Next

When the Internet Walks Into School (Elementary Edition)