It’s taken me a long time to post this particular piece. I’ve come back to it periodically, but I was just never sure how to end it. A good friend of mine pointed out the lack of a resolution. She (and I) often write things out because we don’t have a resolution for whatever is on our minds. Blogs need to have a resolution, a closing argument if you will. So maybe this is why I’ve never finished it. How can I finish something that has no conclusion? No happy ending? No ending at all? So end it with a question, she suggested. And I will.
October 10, 2015
I was eating chocolate cake today and a guy in my group made a joke about eating chocolate cake for breakfast. Did I understand the reference, he asked. Of course! I still remember watching the standup of Bill Cosby with my family and the bit about feeding chocolate cake to his kids for breakfast. The next question was if I thought Bill Cosby was really a pedophile. Immediate response was No, he was a rapist; all of the women he raped were adults. The guy then wanted to know if I thought it was all a “conspiracy theory.” I don’t believe so and it made me frustrated to hear people think that. When you have more than 35 women come forward with their stories, at what point do you finally believe them? Should it even take more than one? And then to have Cosby admit that he gave women Quaaludes to make them more pliable for sex. Really? And you still doubt them?? He seemed surprised by these facts.
The conversation then lead into consent and the mentality of sex then versus now. He felt today’s society was more “prudish.” This was his example of why.
Back then, a woman would smile at a man across the bar and he would think she was interested. He’d come over to talk, see if anything connected, and maybe go home together. Nowadays, if a woman smiles and you come over to talk to her, she’ll just lose her shit at you. Tell you how dare you come over and assume she was interested. It can go into ruining her evening and just all out of proportion.
This comparison doesn’t work because the difference of then versus now was the social support to say “I’m not interested.” There’s more communication about consent and when it doesn’t happen. In both cases, the woman may not be interested but back then, it was much more difficult to speak up. Women would just go along with it. This is the issue with the women coming forward about Cosby raping them. Rape wasn’t something you talked about years ago. Even in my family history, I learned about this social mentality and the effects on those it happens to.
Yes, but it’s getting blown all out of proportion, he argued. You know how football players smack each other on the ass after touchdowns? One day, one of the guys is going to claim sexual assault because one of his teammates smacked him on the ass. We’re going to have a big, tall football player claiming sexual assault. This would just look ludicrous! And my response is Why? Why is it crazy? Because he’s supposed to be big and tough? That sexual assault only happens to women? Men, women, anyone can be sexually assaulted. It doesn’t have to be just sex; it can be touching and making lewd comments. We don’t hear about rape, outside of it happening to women, very often but it does still happen. Consent is universal. And socially acceptable behavior does not equal right behavior. I don’t believe society is becoming more prudish. Rather, I believe the conversation about consent and being supported to be vocal when consent isn’t given has changed.
I found a book written in the 60’s called The Art of Kissing. It was geared towards instruction for males on how to kiss and included a rather disturbing section on how to first kiss a girl. As the evening was ending, you should get the girl on the couch and position it so she is on the end so as to better keep her from getting up once you make your intentions known. (I swear I’m not making this up. I’ve read this section to so many friends, I practically have it memorized) Find a way to position your arm over the back of the couch and down to her shoulders. Use the typical yawn move or adjust the seat cushion. (and now for the kicker) When you try to kiss a girl and she tries to get up, don’t worry. Simply guide her back down to the couch and make your intentions clear. If she tries to get up and cries out, don’t worry. If she tries to get up, cries out, and starts to scratch at you, then start to worry. This girl is not to be trifled with. (And not because she’s not interested in kissing or any other sexual activity, oh no!) This kind of girl still thinks babies are a result of kissing and isn’t ready to kiss.
::face palm::
Is it really a surprise then, with material like this circulating, that women didn’t come forward about being raped? And something like this doesn’t just go away. It sticks with you. Along with all the self-doubt, wondering if you had it coming. If you could have done something different to stop it. To be able to share your story takes so much courage because even with all the progress we’ve made, people are still met with victim-blaming and doubt.
I remember the first time a guy touched me inappropriately. I was 14 and walking with my friend at a teen night event at the local amusement park. A guy walked up behind us, grabbing my ass and putting his hand down my friend’s shirt. He tried to talk with us, but we ran off and found my brother. We told the police and I believe they talked to the guy, but nothing went beyond that point. I remember crying; I felt so dirty. And I kept wondering if I’d somehow been asking for it. Had my clothes been too revealing? I had been wearing jeans and a spaghetti strap top with the American flag on it.
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned how to “protect” myself. Carrying around pepper spray. Putting keys between my fingers to use as a weapon when walking to my car. Knowing that a pair of heels can be scraped down the shin if I get grabbed from behind. Not making eye contact or in any way acknowledging catcalls or whistles. Understanding that walking away is sometimes better when someone tries to cop a feel. Laughing and smiling until I can get away because it’s safer than straight up saying No. Pretending to have a boyfriend because it’s the only way some will back off.
Sometimes I stop and think Why did I need to learn these things? How did I learn them? Who taught me? From a self defense class in Girl Scouts. From a friend’s boyfriend who didn’t like the neighborhood I was living in. From conversations with other women. From social media. From people-watching. From personal experience. And each of these lessons came with a price.
A few months ago I learned another lesson. I free wrote a short paragraph afterwards and this is what came out.
A lot of times I let it brush off with the comments, but we'd as a group (several older gentlemen....or at least I thought they were) got into talking about how women are treated. And how they should be given respect but aren't always treated as such. And it was a shame and how can things change? And then later one whispered how he had just one thing he'd like to know. "how I tasted and if he'd get a chance." He's married and traveling with his wife and a daughter a little younger than me. And when another guy arrived (about my age) who was drunk and getting a bit belligerent, I saw them talking together. I thought the older man was trying to calm the young one down. Instead I heard him trying to coach the guy on how to get with me. The guy also has a girlfriend. A wonderful gal who later showed up looking for him because he'd just disappeared from their bungalow. Anyway, hearing the older guy tell him things like "if you don't want to get with her, then I will." and "just look at her, you know what that's for?" I just felt so dirty. Called them out on it after everyone had left and it didn't perturb them at all. Told them I could hear them and that I wasn't a piece of meat and they both have their partners waiting for them back at their rooms. So torn with wanting to rip into them but they're guests here and while it doesn't excuse the behavior, I didn’t know if I could count on the support of my boss and not wanting to make a scene. Realizing I wish I could have torn them a new one but calmly and I was just so hurt and angry.
My first year at Burning Man, there was an art installation called Truth is Beauty by Marco Cochrane. It was this beautiful statue of a woman arching her back. Around the base of the statue (she was more than 50 feet tall) was the question “What would the world be like if all women were safe?” written in many different languages. There was a podium in front with a book of blank pages. People had written their thoughts on the piece and the message it gave. Me, I just sat on the Playa dust and stared up at her or at the foot of her, well...feet and watched her body change to different colors in the darkness. What WOULD the world be like if all women were safe? If we felt safe and confident enough to walk down a street with our heads held high but not surrounded by ice in our every step? If we could dress however we wanted simply because it makes us feel beautiful and not second guessing if others will read it as an open invitation. If we could just be present at any given moment and not constantly monitoring if the surroundings are safe, if the men around us could overpower us, if our words or actions could be misconstrued, if anyone would help should we need it. If we as women could own into our power and not feel the need to stifle parts of ourselves because they are viewed as too forward, too unfeminine, too strong, just Too.
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| Photo Property of Kira Zebroski |
What would the world be like if all women were safe?
And how do we make that happen?
And here are some links to articles I've found very helpful in stimulating a conversation:
This is thoughtful and beautiful.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much!
DeleteI find it like the Model T, "Always complete, but never finished." The question at the end is excellent at the bottom of the statue. It challenges us to answer it.
ReplyDelete