When I think about what I want to say in a blog designed to get men active in the fight to end sexual violence, I find myself stumped. Not because I have nothing to say, but because I don’t know how to say it.
So, let me start with this: I have been blessed to have had some wonderful men in my life- kind, caring, generous, good fathers, husbands and friends. Men who would never dream of “taking advantage” of a woman or girl, just because the opportunity arises. Men who think rape is despicable and who would never physically harm a woman or girl. These men offer their female friend or acquaintance a ride home or a place to sleep if she’s had a bit too much to drink. They do this NOT to “get some”, but to actually make sure she is safe for the night.
So, what’s the problem? The problem is that these men live in a world filled with excuses to objectify, degrade, make fun of, think less of, not take seriously….the women they exist with. They live in a world were this type of thinking is rewarded, and if they want to thrive in the world they live in (or so it may seem) they are to encourage, applaud, laugh, or at the very least just stay silent.
Let me give an example. I have several friends who are men. I’ve known them for years. We play co-ed sports together, we socialize, celebrate birthdays, have bar-be-ques, etc. I would consider these guys, in general, good guys, but often find myself picking my battles around some of them when it comes to their sexist jokes and derogatory or sexual comments about other women (most frequently having to do with her appearance).
One evening a female friend of ours hosted a bar-be-que at her condo. There were about 25 people there, five or six of whom were female, the rest of the group was made up men, a few of which were my friends and the rest were friends of friends. As the night progressed the group decided to play Pictionary, which was fun for awhile until one of the guys, who was actually a friend of mine, decided to draw a picture of what turned out to be a “donkey punch”. There was an immediate roar of laughter and energy from the crowd when the guys figured out what he was drawing. Like some of you reading this, I had never heard of a donkey punch. Apparently, this sexual act, which these guys (some my friends) were so excited about, is a very violent and degrading act. It involves punching a woman in the back of her head to make her pass out in order to increase the climax for him.
From this point on, the guys were practically fighting to take their turn at the drawing board, to illustrate other “funny” sex acts that were listed in a recent Maxim magazine. These acts involved urinating on a woman, putting feces on her face…and the list goes on.
This was the first time I have ever felt unsafe around men who were supposed to be my friends. I turned to one of them, whom I was most disappointed that he was laughing, and his response to me was “come on, Nicole, you don’t think I’d ever do any of these things”. My response was “How would I know by the way you’re laughing?” I asked him if he could guarantee me the rest of these men wouldn’t do such things. He didn’t respond. I mean if they are so excited about these images and are encouraging it to continue, how do I know that these men aren’t violent towards the women they are with? If they could be this disrespectful to women, in the presence of women, in the HOME of a woman, how do I know they won’t act on it?
When I started to say anything to the group, then I was just “that girl” who can’t take a joke, who needs to relax. Not ONE man acknowledged that this was, at the very least, disrespectful to the women in the room. The women who are supposed to be their friends.
I was afraid of the energy in the room. I was afraid because I knew that I was out numbered, that every woman in the room was out numbered by 4 to 1. I was afraid of my friends and, even more so, their friends.
And then I was PISSED that I had to feel this way at all. I WAS WITH FRIENDS! People who are supposed to take care of each other. People who you are supposed to feel the safest with.
I was pissed because that’s when I realized just how easy it is for sexual assaults to happen. It’s because of attitudes like these that cheer on sexual violence as a joke. It’s because the draw to join in on this “bonding” experience was apparently too strong for any of the men in the room to resist. I was scared and pissed because if one or more of these men decided to find a way to get one of the females, myself included, isolated and rape her, then she would be deemed at fault. “She should have known it wasn’t safe.”, “What did she have that many guys in her house for?”, “Why would she go to a party with mostly guys?”, “She drank some alcohol that night” “She put herself in that situation”.
And then I got sad. Luckily, these men did not sexually assault anyone at this party…but they did successfully reduce the women in the room to an inanimate object that they could fashion to look like and endure whatever they wanted on the pages of the Pictionary board. They did successfully instill fear, distrust and a loss of respect for the very men that I called friends.
I got sad because the voices of the women in the room were silenced. The voices of the women were silenced so much so that I saw at least one laughing right along. I was the only one trying to speak out, and I was dismissed.
I was sad because I know some of these men left to go out and proceed to sexually harass every woman who happened to cross their path. They did it just because they can and because there’s a social reward for doing so. I know. I witness it first hand just about every day.
I was sad because, though I believe my friends and most of the other men would not do these things they were illustrating, I knew that more than likely there were men in the room who just might if they had the chance. They just might, and now they have the support and encouragement from my friends to do so.
I was sad for the loss of respect I previously had for these men and for the loss of perceived respect I thought they had for me. In writing this blog, I realize that I have since never attempted to bring this up to the two men I was closest to. I imagine if I talked to them one on one, outside of the power of the group, that they would listen and possibly rethink their behavior. I guess, because no one seemed to care that night, I never thought to try.
I continue to have men in my life who I admire. Men who do speak up, who don’t join in when other men are degrading or objectifying women. Men who understand the stake they have in challenging these attitudes and behaviors. Like me, they sometimes have to choose their battles, but they know that they have the power to do something. They can remove the social reward for these things and make respect for women and each other the new norm. The bottom line is that I should NOT have to assume that I’m not safe with my friends, just because they are men! That’s not okay for my sake or for the sake of the men I care about…The men who Man Up!
Man Up! is asking men to take action, to remove the social reward for degrading, harassing and objectifying women.
Nicole Littler
MOCSA Director of Community Services & Evaluation
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Don’t blame it on her clothes!
I was at lunch today with a long time friend and the conversation turned to my blog about the girl who was raped by her former boyfriend. (Please reference my previous entry for the story). My friend commented that his niece was date raped, sexually assaulted by a boy whom she was ‘group dating.’ They began their relationship by hanging out together with a group of friends and when they went on a solo date, ended up at his place and that was when things went wrong. There was no alcohol involved and it was a casual friendship up to this point. He took her to his apartment to see ‘his place’ and when they arrived her boyfriend sexually assaulted her. It was a sad story and because of it, his niece and her family still struggle with the life changing incident.
My friend said something in his story that I was shocked to hear. He said that in seeking spiritual guidance and reflecting on the incident, the minister suggested that maybe his niece was to blame. Maybe it was her attire or maybe the fact that she went to his apartment was the ‘unsaid’ agreement that she wanted sex.
I was flabbergasted by this comment and even more appalled that the myth exists that what a woman wears or the fact that she visits a man in his home is an agreement that she wants sex.
Let me digress but on point. In reflecting more on this misconception, I thought back on a previous event where I attended a Kenny Chesney concert. Behind me and my group of adult couple friends sat a mixed group of high school kids. The girls wore cowboy boots and short jean shorts or skirts. Yes I think they were short and even someone commented that extra material should be added to their skirt/shorts but if I were to ask the young women if they were inviting sex by what they wore, I know their responses would have been "no". They were trying to look fashionable, cool and they were having a fun time. That is why they were there. That is why they wore what they wore. So the notion that what a girl wears invites assault, invites rape, is twisted thinking. It places the blame exactly where it does not belong. The man rapes. What girls wear may show their attributes but it does not invite sex without consent.
The fact that spiritual counselors, adults, knowing people, try to place the blame on the assaulted and what they wear is wrong. Or to suggest that visiting a man in his home is an invitation to have sex is thinking out of the dark ages.
Men need to man-up for their actions. We need to tune-in that sex without consent is absolutely wrong. If some want to blame the provocative clothing then take on the fashion industry, take on Hollywood, but don’t blame the kids. The girls at the concert could have been in their underwear and though I’d give them the shirt off my back to cover them up, I’d say not one of them wants to be raped.
-Ken Mellard
My friend said something in his story that I was shocked to hear. He said that in seeking spiritual guidance and reflecting on the incident, the minister suggested that maybe his niece was to blame. Maybe it was her attire or maybe the fact that she went to his apartment was the ‘unsaid’ agreement that she wanted sex.
I was flabbergasted by this comment and even more appalled that the myth exists that what a woman wears or the fact that she visits a man in his home is an agreement that she wants sex.
Let me digress but on point. In reflecting more on this misconception, I thought back on a previous event where I attended a Kenny Chesney concert. Behind me and my group of adult couple friends sat a mixed group of high school kids. The girls wore cowboy boots and short jean shorts or skirts. Yes I think they were short and even someone commented that extra material should be added to their skirt/shorts but if I were to ask the young women if they were inviting sex by what they wore, I know their responses would have been "no". They were trying to look fashionable, cool and they were having a fun time. That is why they were there. That is why they wore what they wore. So the notion that what a girl wears invites assault, invites rape, is twisted thinking. It places the blame exactly where it does not belong. The man rapes. What girls wear may show their attributes but it does not invite sex without consent.
The fact that spiritual counselors, adults, knowing people, try to place the blame on the assaulted and what they wear is wrong. Or to suggest that visiting a man in his home is an invitation to have sex is thinking out of the dark ages.
Men need to man-up for their actions. We need to tune-in that sex without consent is absolutely wrong. If some want to blame the provocative clothing then take on the fashion industry, take on Hollywood, but don’t blame the kids. The girls at the concert could have been in their underwear and though I’d give them the shirt off my back to cover them up, I’d say not one of them wants to be raped.
-Ken Mellard
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