Posts Tagged ‘women’s rights’

I Don’t Owe You A Smile, part II: The Curious Failure of Sweatpants

April 3, 2012

I was hurrying to an assignment downtown on a chilly day last week, and a man passing me on the sidewalk stopped as I approached, looked me up and down and said, “Mmm!” as if he’d just bitten into a fantastic piece of pie. His head swiveled theatrically to check out the rest of me as I went by.

What was it about me that made him look? The fuzzy old hat that a teenage friend crocheted for me twelve years ago? My comfortable jeans and brown Timberland boots? The oversized canvas bag? The faux-fleece-line purple hoodie that my dear husband himself last month referred to as “a bit bulky, don’t you think”?

Last week’s post on street harassment got an interesting discussion going, and as I read some similar material from other authors and looked at the comment and social media responses to my blog, I realized that while my post did a pretty good job of announcing that street harassment stinks, it doesn’t say much about why it happens in the first place.

The man who admired me so much last week made me wonder. Do I just radiate so much sex appeal that even when I’m bundled up from head to toe and am rushing to work, I stop men in their tracks?

Some women say they have tried to avoid harassment by hunching down inside a big, baggy pair of sweatpants or similar attire. But many who have done this add in a bewildered tone that it didn’t stop men from calling out at them.

Some men who responded to comment threads about my post chimed in with their disgust at males who think that sexually harassing comments are going to make women like them.

“Why do people do that shit? Do they really think it’s going to win any ladies over?” asked one man on Facebook.

“A lot of the hollerers just want to have sex, essentially,” Lane, one of my female friends, also a local journalist, wrote in an e-mail to me last week, explaining that these outbursts have nothing to do with sincere romance. “They’ll do it to every half-decent-looking girl…and, of course, the super-hot ones.”

According to her, there are a couple main reasons for street harassment:

First, guys don’t know the right way to approach women: they think aggressive advances are good. Secondly, “they can’t control their hormones.” Lane also feels that she experiences harassment often because she looks “young and helpless”. Finally, she suggests there may be cultural factors at work among the hollerers.

But the bottom line is that the intrusive advances she experiences every week, often while on the job as a journalist, are not acceptable. As Lane puts it, “I’m not going to tear off my panties and be like LET’S ****, RANDOM GUY ON THE STREET!”

My husband also weighed in, pointing out insight from acquaintances who are inveterate street hollerers. He says people who do this are indeed trying to attract women sexually, because some people are always desperate for any sort of attention. Men know that most women are annoyed by their shouts and whistles, but the hollering men aren’t bothered, because these more stable women “aren’t the target market anyway”. Annoying 98% of the women who pass is an occupational hazard of snagging someone more insecure.

Another writer to hit my radar on this topic, while also criticizing the male tendency to publicly harass women, has a completely different theory for why it happens, especially when the men are in groups.

In his piece for Ebony Magazine, Interrupt Street Harassment, Dr. L’Heureux Lewis recalls being a nervous member of gangs of boys who harassed girls. He calls the collective habit of whistling, catcalling or “bark[ing] compliments” at women a “rite of passage” that made him silently uncomfortable.

He draws telling connections between street harassment and physical violence against women, and gives his perspective on why the harassment persists: in his case, he didn’t want be perceived as “uncool” or “less of a man” for speaking up against the behavior, but more than that, he says men fear that others in the group will question their sexuality, and then ostracize them, if they don’t harass women.

“This is what sociologist Michael Kimmel identifies as a deep form of homophobia,” Dr. Lewis writes.  The problem was “the fear that other men would challenge me, question my manhood, or even call me gay.”

So men harass women because men are deeply homophobic?

I don’t know.

I think the key to understanding why street harassment happens is to pay attention to the reactions some men have when the harassed women surprise everyone by standing up to them or verbally rebuffing the “compliments”.

It seems like every girl has at least one chilling story about what happened when she responded assertively to a man who accosted or propositioned her. Part of the reason so many women avoid responding to harassment are the curses or threats that are often unleashed when they don’t remain passive under this public “flattery”.

“I remember a couple of different times where a man has asked me for a hug or some other contact, and I’ve said no – and not rudely, either – and been subjected to a litany of why me not wanting to have that contact with him is *my* problem,” said one of last week’s commenters.

I’m no sociologist. But to me, that “well, fuck you, bitch!” or similar comments that often fly as soon as a woman rebuffs certain advances is the biggest clue about the real cause of street harassment. The men don’t lash out because of disappointment or embarrassment over having their sexual advances rejected. They’re angry because they just tried to put someone in her place, and that person refused to go there.

To me, believing that harassment is a factor of a man’s attraction to a woman is as unrealistic as believing that my chunky, long-sleeved purple zip-up is the sexiest thing in my wardrobe. People who think the harassment is about sexual allure or misguided attempts at romance and compliments have completely missed the point.

While I’m not necessarily onboard with the idea that harassment is a factor of male homophobia, Dr. Lewis still gets closer to the heart of the issue than anyone else when he writes about male fears of being ridiculed. The harassment is not about sex. It’s about status and power.

Take the incident a twenty-something friend shared on Facebook after she read my earlier post.

“Not long ago my mom was dropping me off at the train station, and two dudes starting making gross/sexual comments about her. I just turned to them and said, ‘THAT’S MY MOM.’ They stopped and apologized profusely, but after a few minutes they turned their harassment on ME…Fortunately the train soon arrived and I escaped.”

If we assume that men harass women because they’re after sex, we’d have to assume that in this situation, the men found a middle-aged woman accompanying her adult daughter an irresistible sexual prospect. Then, shortly after apologizing to the younger woman for their gross behavior, they realized that she, too, was really hot and decided to let her know it.

I think one of the comments from last week’s blog also proves my point. One woman replied that her attempted solution to the harassment she got as a teenager was to “wear baggy clothes, walk fast, make a glum face, and don’t look anyone in the eyes.”

The image of a person huddled in ill-fitting clothes, hurrying along with a gloomy demeanor, afraid to look anyone in the face, is the epitome of an individual who has been robbed of respect.  All of the tips this woman gives for avoiding harassment are also the hallmarks of a person on the bottom rung of society.

And that’s why street harassment happens.

The man who seemed to admire me in my purple hoodie wasn’t trying to give my self-image a boost. He was, perhaps out of habit and not malicious personal intent, reminding me that I’m not a person on her way to work: instead, no matter what I wear or how I act, I’m an object for his appraisal.

One commenter on last week’s blog took Lane to task, for describing an incident in the comments in which she rolled her eyes and then resorted to rudeness after a group of guys began calling at her on the street at night. To make her willingness to defend herself clear to blog readers, she wrote that she would take her knee to someone who refused to leave her alone.

“You weren’t harassed,” one man responded to her story. “Your willingness to resort to physical violence makes you seem like the deadbeat.”

I replied that Lane was in the right to be rude to protect herself, and that women willing to defend themselves when threatened, physically if necessary, aren’t deadbeats.

“Shame on you,” he answered. He implied that Lane, by her behavior, was responsible for the guys’ negative attention.

“Rolling eyes is a provocative reaction that invites a response,” he said.

In this man’s view, there’s nothing wrong with a group of guys making unwanted advances on a young woman alone on a dark street. But for her to respond by rolling her eyes at them is unnecessarily “provocative” behavior. In this version of what is acceptable behavior for men and women, we can see the underlying power dynamics at play, and how they’re stacked decidedly against Lane.

Street harassment is more about perpetuating dominance than anything else. I see this not only in the men who harass women, but in the men I know who don’t.

These men don’t fail to harass women because they have a weak appreciation for the female form or have no sexual temptations. They don’t harass women because they have an abiding respect for other people. Where there is no need to put other people in their place, there is no harassment, sexual or otherwise.

But what do you think?

Mississippi’s Amendment #26: Personhood For All (Unless You’re Female)

November 8, 2011

My parents always seemed to have stricter rules for me than they did for my brother. They seemed less worried about where he went and who he went with, and what time he came back. As a teenager, I realized the reason.

I’m a girl.

The world is a more dangerous place for girls.

One evening, shortly after I got my first driver’s license, I asked to take the car for an evening run to the local drugstore, a place I’d been going all my life with my parents. My parents consented, but stipulated that I take my younger brother with me, so I would be safe.

It was small moment, and I doubt anyone else remembers it. But to me, it represented an important and challenging perception shift, especially to the mind of an oldest child, used to greater responsibility at home. My brother had reached a level of adult mobility and security greater than my own, not because of maturity, but because of his gender.

To this day, my mixed feelings about this and similar decrees from my parents do not mean that they weren’t right. My work often requires me to walk around the city and take public transit alone late at night. When I’m waiting for the bus at 10pm and a drunken man weaves his way toward me, I would never object to having my brother there, but we live in different states now.

You can hardly go a month downtown without a cautionary news item about a string of assaults targeting women. I’ve seen purses snatched and I don’t listen to my iPod when I walk downtown anymore, lest I seem like a handy target. I often worked late at my former job, and I was supremely grateful to a male co-worker who, without being asked, walked me to my street-parked car after dark whenever we clocked out together.

The world is more dangerous for women.

I don’t usually let this fact get me down. I acknowledge reality, practice confidence and common sense, and accept help when I need it. Lately, however, I’ve been growing quietly distraught over a burgeoning risk to my safety as a woman – and not from lowlifes on the street.

The Mississippi “personhood” initiative, an amendment to the state constitution which is coming to a vote on November 8th, is among the most insidious political movements of American history.

In case you’re not familiar with the controversy, anti-abortion and anti-contraception activists have a renewed chance at a different avenue for their agenda: not specific laws which directly affect funding, clinics, counseling or medical practices, but a broad amendment to a state constitution that would redefine the legal status of the human zygote itself.

Initiative #26, if enacted by Mississippi voters, would redefine the term “person” to “include every human being from the moment of fertilization, cloning or the functional equivalent thereof.”

Lest you think this movement is limited to one southern state, according to a recent Bloomberg article, similar movements are gearing up in Ohio, Nevada, California, Colorado, Arkansas, Oklahoma, North Dakota, Nebraska, Alabama, Wisconsin and Michigan.

As some members of the population erupt with the ensuing legal ramifications of such an amendment, pro-personhood initiative groups pretend that the practical human implications are impossible to predict.

For example, a blog titled “Bioethics and Cloning: How Does Amendment 26 Affect Contraceptives and Cloning?” claims that the amendment “does not even attempt to deal with every possible scenario.” The legislature and courts “will still have to wrestle” with “some forms of birth control”. It’s a surprisingly ambiguous statement from a blog whose very title implies answers about the amendment’s impact on the availability of birth control.

The amendment’s likely impact on women’s access to contraception, including some forms of the pill, is a hot issue. But legal and medical professionals also worry about a range of other implications, including a ban on In-Vitro Fertilization and a total ban on abortions even in the case of rape, incest, or danger to the mother’s life, as in ectopic pregnancy. Under strict interpretations of the law, each of these procedures could be prosecuted as murder, with both treating physicians and affected women at risk of being arrested.

Perhaps worst of all, personhood initiatives are beginning to justify prosecuting women who have miscarriages or stillbirths. In June 2011, the Guardian reported on the Mississippi case of Rennie Gibbs, who in 2006 became pregnant at 15, but lost the baby in a stillbirth at 36 weeks. When prosecutors discovered Gibbs had used cocaine, they charged her with murder, though there wasn’t evidence that drugs had caused the stillbirth. She faces a life sentence.

Just this year, Bei Bei Shuai, a pregnant Indianapolis woman, distraught after her boyfriend left her, attempted suicide by taking poison. She survived with hospital treatment, but later gave birth about two weeks prematurely. When the baby died days later, Shuai was arrested and charged with murdering her baby through her suicide attempt.

These aren’t the only such cases, but they are sufficiently chilling.

In their urgency for the so-called sanctification of every human life, Amendment 26 supporters have handily forgotten that women are people too. It seems that the only female people with all of their rights intact would be the the ones who are still in the womb.

It’s easy to see some of the brutal intrusions into personal and family life if women are denied access to contraception and fertility treatments, if they cannot choose to end a pregnancy that is the result of rape or incestuous abuse, or if they’re denied the ability to preserve their own lives and health in the case of high-risk pregnancies.

But other sinister implications are also become clear in a necessary component of the Amendment supporters’ arguments, when they emphasize the separateness of mother and fetus to prove the fetus’s right to full legal status.

The website for Personhood Ohio emphasizes the biological distinction between fetuses and mothers, to propound the view that the issue should not, in fact, have anything to do with questions of a woman’s right to determine what happens to her own body: the fetus is not part of her.

“The new human being is not part of the mother’s body,” the website argues, because how could one woman have “male genitals, two brains, or four kidneys?” Instead, the “preborn human being” is merely “dependent upon the mother for nutrition.” It’s ironic that in forcing women to recognize a fetus as a legally protected person with rights equal to her own, advocates simultaneously perpetrate a systematic denial of a mother’s ideal connection to her fetus, as she becomes a mere vessel for the baby’s “nutrition”: there is no mention of the mother’s symptoms in pregnancy, or the lifelong sense of identity that may be entwined with motherhood.

This reminds me of nothing so much as a tidbit which crossed my hearing years ago about the history of our understanding of conception and pregnancy. Until the late 19th century, no-one yet understood that conception begins when the sperm enters the ovum. Prior to this, one theory actually held that tiny, fully-formed human beings were contained within sperm, which were then implanted to grow in the female’s womb. In other words, men alone are responsible for creating a new person – the woman is just needed to carry it.

I believe that the implications of Amendment 26, and similar developing amendments, demean women in a similar way, not only stripping them of a necessary sense of human autonomy, but minimizing their role in the birth of their own babies.

According to Personhood Ohio, the personhood debate is not about “personal autonomy”, “women’s rights”, or even “what’s most beneficial to women”. Why are a group of people subjected to terrifyingly methodical denials of their own personhood expected to rise up in empathy for the primacy of someone else’s personhood – especially when the personhood in question is buried, invisible, inside the dehumanized women’s own bodies?

Since I was a teenager, I knew that life might hold more practical dangers for me than for my brother, simply because of my sex. At the Christian boarding academy we both attended in high school, boys were given lax curfews and snuck out with little fear of reprisal. But the girls lived by the clock, facing punishments like being confined to the dorm if they were a few minutes late for any reason.

“Why are the rules so different for the boys and the girls?” I complained to my friend in the boys’ dorm.

“Well, the boys aren’t going to go out and get pregnant,” he replied.

I’m sure that’s not how the official policy was worded. But as a high-school dorm student and as an adult woman, the reason I was subject to harsher rules and the reason modern legislators see fit to deny my rights do seem to come down to what my friend said all those years ago.

I can avoid walking down dark alleys by myself when I’m downtown. But I never imagined that the dangers to me as a woman would come from so many quarters, including a statehouse where attendees chanted “Amen” to the announcement of Amendment 26 (on Halloween night – how appropriate). If this or similar measures are carried by voters in the coming years, the United States will become a dark alley which no woman can exit, and no brother or parent will be able to protect her.

Sources include:

PersonhoodOhio.com
“Louisiana Bill Would Criminalize Abortion Even In Cases Of Rape”
Personhood: Why Beginning Life at Conception Carries Risks, Even for Anti-Abortion Activists
“Outcry in America as Pregnant Women Who Lose Babies Face Murder Charges”
 Bioethics & Birth Control Personhood Mississippi
“Mississippi’s Ambiguous ‘Personhood’ Amendment”
 ”Toughest U.S. Abortion Law Nears Passage in Mississippi Vote”
Personhood Mississippi
RebeccaKiessling.com


Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 781 other followers