I was reading an excellent blog post on the compensation for rape victims being cut if they had consumed any alcohol. I'm not going to redo Melissa McEwan's superb work here.
I read Michael White's piece at the Guraniad and Roger Graef's rant at the Daily Mail. Having reached the target heart rate for my age, I wondered if I needed to exercise today.
Now, I'm HUGE on personal responsibility, ask any of my friends - it's one of my bugbears. So, yes, you need to do as much as possible to keep yourself safe.
BUT IF SOMEONE ELSE *CHOOSES* - yes, *CHOOSES* - TO INJURE, KILL, RAPE OR IN ANY WAY, SHAPE OR FORM, VIOLATE SOMEONE ELSE, THE ONUS OF RESPONSIBILITY IS ON THEM, NO MATTER WHAT THE STATE OF THE VICTIM. IT'S AS SIMPLE AS THAT.
Being drunk may make you a more inviting target. But it doesn't make you RESPONSIBLE. If you fall over and bang your head on a lamp post when you're pissed, your responsibility. If someone picks you up and throws the inebriated you into said lamp post, THEIR responsibility.
I was chewing over the arguments of Michael White, Roger Graef, et. al., and came up with the following objections:
1. They seem to think that rape is about sex. Sex is the FORM it takes, but rape is really about violence and power. Whether it's date rape or stranger rape, you're overriding someone else's free will. That's about getting off on overpowering someone, NOT on having sex.
2. If a criminal is drunk at the time of his crime, he can plead *diminished responsibility*. Yet if a rape victim has been drinking, she is seen to have *increased responsibility* for what happened to her. You can't have it both ways. If someone has been drinking heavily, they are non compos mentis, and *therefore CANNOT GIVE LEGAL CONSENT*. So if she's drunk, the answer is already a 'no'.
3. The cut in compensation can come with the consumption of ANY amount of alcohol - one glass of wine, which leaves even a lightweight drinker like me stone cold sober, could case CICA to cut the compensation by a third.
4. Women should dress so that men aren't provoked into rape. Women should always be stone cold sober so men aren't provoked into rape. Women should walk in a way so that men aren't provoked into rape. Does someone see a pattern here? What's the underlying assumption?
The underlying assumption in all these arguments is that women are responsible adults who can control how men behave by what they do. Men, on the other hand, are creatures who have no control over their actions/passions and need to be controlled/manipulated by the behaviour of others.
Whoa. When I worked that through, my head snapped back hard enough to give me whiplash.
Always, always, men like Roger Graef and Michael White, religious fundamentalists, anti-feminists and the women who support them, have pointed the finger at feminists for making men feel insecure, for treating them like children or objects, for 'stealing from them' and not allowing them to be men.
I almost believed it. But I always thought that if that was the case, the men in question needed to take responsibility and say what they felt, rather than just 'letting women run all over them', or whatever the stock phrase is.
But the underlying feminist assumption is that men and women are *equals*: women should take responsibility for their own lives and the choices they make. So should men. Which means...feminists assume men are capable of taking responsibility for themselves, so if women are drunk, feminists assume that men will choose to either protect them or leave them alone.
Hmmm. Doesn't sound like emasculation to me. Sounds like empowerment.
Maybe it's time to treat all this the way one treats a magic trick: look at the hand they're trying to distract you from. So, what does the patriarchy really expect/believe.
1. Patriarchal societies expect women to act in ways that make them take responsibiity for men - whether it's playing games when dating so he feels 'in control'; bearing the brunt of the modesty injunction of most religions (I once had a rabbi tell me that men and women had to sit apart because "Men can't control themselves."); or pretending to be less smart/earn less so as not to damage his 'poor fwail ego, awww.'
2. Meanwhile, tell men that they're threatened on all sides by people not their own race, religion or gender and that they must defend their territory, especially against those evil temptresses - I mean, after all, look at Eve, right? It's all HER fault we're here. Remind them that they need to be told what to do, how to think (down to what they're allowed to find attractive) and protected from temptation, since they're inherently full of passions they can't control without help from the...patriarchy, also made up of men who can't... yeah, you see what I mean.
3. Tell women that despite the fact they're powerful enough to be responsible for every evil a man commits, they're NOT capable of working, voting, having the rights they give to men - you know, those same men who have to be told what to do/believe/be. Remind them that they are evil and responsible for the fall of the entire human race and need to be contained for their own good.
4. Create such an atmosphere of fear and suspicion that men and women rarely talk and are always at odds.
5. Having created such an atmosphere, slip on velvet slippers, sit back in front of the fire and remain in firm control. Rinse and repeat with other races, religions, political systems, etc.
Is it just me, or does the patriarchy have the lowest opinion of men possible? To quote an exchange between Nick and myself from the Shakesville discussion:
Finally, as a woman, I'm just sick and tired of taking responsibility for men's behaviour by how I dress, walk, glance, whatever.
And as a man, I'm insulted by the idea that I need women to "correctly" dress/walk/glance in order to manage my behaviour and urges. Not raping is easy; it's not a struggle, it's not a dilemma, and I don't need any female help to get it right. I just need a conscience, and it's interesting how it's never the feminists saying I don't have one.
THANK YOU. You know, I've always felt like the finger pointing at women - from Eve to feminists - is a distraction. Maybe it's time we treating it like a magic trick: look at the hand the patriarchy doesn't want us to see. I have a theory we might find that it's the patriarchy, not feminism, that's emasculating men by infantilizing them.
The demand that women should be responsible for the way men behave is insulting* to men - at least to me - as you put so well in the paragraph starting "THANK YOU." (and thankyou for what you said, personally and generally).
* Not that I'm going to dispute that it's an insult which pales beside the unconscionable burden it puts onto women.
But yes, it's never the feminists that paint me as an irretrievably innate sexual predator who needs female help to conquer my evil drives. Feminism puts far more faith in my, and any man's, conscience than the patriarchy does. Which is rather humbling in the light of how many women here have good reason not to.
Boys and girls, I think we've been had. From anachronistic rape laws to forcing women to cover themselves from head to toe to enforced celibacy, it has never been about anyone's good. It has been about making it easier to control someone through fear (think of the erosion of civil liberties post 9/11) or isolation (by keeping people at loggerheads), which makes people unsettled and more likely to look to external authority for rules that give them a sense of security.
That's what cults and abusers do. Women and minorities aren't the only ones getting screwed over here - men are just as wounded, if less visibly. Every time we refuse to allow someone to take responsibility for their actions - white or black, male or female - EVERYONE suffers.
We need to start asking questions, looking at the underlying assumptions, and remember that when someone is generating fear, they most likely want control.
No, it's not that simple. No, it's not a perfect or complete analysis - I've only started thinking it through, and it's only one factor of many, I suspect. Yes, it's more complicated than what I've just written. Yes, there are members of the female gender and minorities who take advantage and play the victim, just as there are members of the male gender and majorities who take advantage. But that doesn't make it ok to live our lives by a system who maintains its raison d'etre by pitting us against one another. We have to start change somewhere.
To quote Twisted Sister and so many others through history:
We're right/yeah
we're free/yeah
we'll fight/yeah
you'll see/yeah
oh we're not gonna take it
no, we ain't gonna take it
oh we're not gonna take it anymore.
So come on, lads, put your hands in ours and let's start walking towards a brave new world.
And should you feel your balls being lopped off, look to those who won't let you grow up.
Showing posts with label feminism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label feminism. Show all posts
Friday, 15 August 2008
Sunday, 18 February 2007
Steel magnolias
Sunday night is television night - chores are done, time to unwind, unbreakable date with "24" at 9pm. At about 7pm, I was sitting down to dinner and decided to flick through the Sky channels...and came across what Sky info rightly described as "the Rolls Royce of all chick flicks" from 1989 - "Steel Magnolias".
It's the story of a tightly knit group of women friends in Louisiana. The main characters are: Truvy Jones (salon owner and all-round nurturer), Clairee Belcher (a well-to-do, easily amused Southern belle in her late 50s), Ouiser Boudreaux (a crotchety old Southern belle), M'Lynn Eatenton (Shelby's mum and all-round warm, hospitable Southern girl), Shelby (lively, funny, pink loving girl) and Annelle Dupuis (shy girl to party animal to religious fundamentalist).
The main storyline begins with Shelby's wedding and covers the next few years, peaking around her decision to have a child against medical advice (she's a diabetic) and the consequences. Parallel storylines include the unlikely closeness between Ouiser and Clairee, Annelle's metamorphosis, and Truvy's relationships with her husband and sons.
I've seen it at least four times, and it still makes me laugh till my sides ache and cry like a baby.
From Thelma and Louise to Beaches to Steel Magnolias and Sex and the City, there's something mesmerising about women's friendships. One might suspect that even men get sucked in (I have a male friend who admits to loving Beaches). Yes, we know they can be bitchy, competitive, and co-dependent, but there's nothing like the bond between women friends who've laughed with, listened to and supported eachother over years. Shelby's inclusion in that tight knit circle reminds us how much women pass on to eachother down the generations, and how much of that we've lost - a theme also touched on in How to make an American quilt.
One may scoff and say that the bond between female friends is often romanticised in the media, and that's probably true - they do the same with romantic love, much to our detriment - no one can live up to THAT expectation. But there's more than a kernel of truth in their portrayal of our friendships: that's why most women I know cried at the scene in Sex and the City when the girls surrounded Samantha after they'd heard the news that she had breast cancer - it didn't matter that it was in the middle of Miranda's wedding reception; she was right there with them. Most of us *know* that feeling; we've been on both ends of it.
Just like we understand the scene in Steel Magnolias where M'Lynn is standing by Shelby's grave after the funeral. Her husband Drum goes to the car with the boys, looks back and waits a few minutes before driving off, expecting that someone else will pick her up. The camera pans to the set of friends one by one, each going off with her man. They look back to M'Lynn, and every one of them shoos her man off and goes to stand with her by the grave. No man could have been in that scene.
It is there, with these women, after months of nursing Shelby in her coma, pushing Drum away and being strong through the funeral that M'Lynn finally gives way when Clairee asks her how she is:
I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine. I'm fine! I can jog all the way to Texas and back, but my daughter can't! She never could! Oh God! I am so mad I don't know what to do! I wanna know why! I wanna know *why* Shelby's life is over! I wanna know how that baby will *ever* know how wonderful his mother was! Will he *ever* know what she went through for him! Oh *God* I wanna know *why*? *Why*? Lord, I wish I could understand! No! No! No! It's not supposed to happen this way! I'm supposed to go first. I've always been ready to go first! I-I don't think I can take this! I-I don't think I can take this! I-I just wanna *hit* somebody 'til they feel as bad as I do! I just wanna *hit* something! I wanna *hit it hard*!
At this point, Clairee grabs Ouiser and suggests M'Lynn punches her, since the entire parish has wanted to for years. They all dissolve into laughter amidst their tears, and M'Lynn goes on more reflectively:
They turned off the machines. Drum left. Jackson left. They couldn't take it. I find it amusing. Men are supposed to be made out of steel or something. I just sat there. I just held Shelby's hand. There was no noise, no tremble, just peace. Oh god. I realize, as a woman, how lucky I am. I was there when that wonderful creature drifted into my life and I was there when she drifted out. It was the most precious moment of my life.
That comment crystallises something about that special bond between women friends: women *stay* - through the laughter, the tears, the endless analyses, the darkness, when the angel of Death comes to do her job - and we are capable of considering those moments the most precious of our lives. On the Via Dolorosa, Jesus meets his mother, Veronica wipes his face, he comforts the women of Jerusalem and women stand at the foot of his cross. Women are also the first to see the tomb empty, and Mary Magdalene is the first to see him. Precious moments, every one.
We're always there - and as women, *how lucky we are*. Let's race up those ladders, ladies, but remember - *be yourself*. You become a priest or a CEO or a creative director or anything you want to be because of WHO YOU ARE. Even if you're in a male-dominated field, don't change yourself to become more like the boys. Be yourself, and bring your wonderful, unique qualities to bear - and change that field for the better.
And boys, we love you. And sometimes, we love being one of you. But right now, we could do with you changing a nappy or two...
It's the story of a tightly knit group of women friends in Louisiana. The main characters are: Truvy Jones (salon owner and all-round nurturer), Clairee Belcher (a well-to-do, easily amused Southern belle in her late 50s), Ouiser Boudreaux (a crotchety old Southern belle), M'Lynn Eatenton (Shelby's mum and all-round warm, hospitable Southern girl), Shelby (lively, funny, pink loving girl) and Annelle Dupuis (shy girl to party animal to religious fundamentalist).
The main storyline begins with Shelby's wedding and covers the next few years, peaking around her decision to have a child against medical advice (she's a diabetic) and the consequences. Parallel storylines include the unlikely closeness between Ouiser and Clairee, Annelle's metamorphosis, and Truvy's relationships with her husband and sons.
I've seen it at least four times, and it still makes me laugh till my sides ache and cry like a baby.
From Thelma and Louise to Beaches to Steel Magnolias and Sex and the City, there's something mesmerising about women's friendships. One might suspect that even men get sucked in (I have a male friend who admits to loving Beaches). Yes, we know they can be bitchy, competitive, and co-dependent, but there's nothing like the bond between women friends who've laughed with, listened to and supported eachother over years. Shelby's inclusion in that tight knit circle reminds us how much women pass on to eachother down the generations, and how much of that we've lost - a theme also touched on in How to make an American quilt.
One may scoff and say that the bond between female friends is often romanticised in the media, and that's probably true - they do the same with romantic love, much to our detriment - no one can live up to THAT expectation. But there's more than a kernel of truth in their portrayal of our friendships: that's why most women I know cried at the scene in Sex and the City when the girls surrounded Samantha after they'd heard the news that she had breast cancer - it didn't matter that it was in the middle of Miranda's wedding reception; she was right there with them. Most of us *know* that feeling; we've been on both ends of it.
Just like we understand the scene in Steel Magnolias where M'Lynn is standing by Shelby's grave after the funeral. Her husband Drum goes to the car with the boys, looks back and waits a few minutes before driving off, expecting that someone else will pick her up. The camera pans to the set of friends one by one, each going off with her man. They look back to M'Lynn, and every one of them shoos her man off and goes to stand with her by the grave. No man could have been in that scene.
It is there, with these women, after months of nursing Shelby in her coma, pushing Drum away and being strong through the funeral that M'Lynn finally gives way when Clairee asks her how she is:
I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine. I'm fine! I can jog all the way to Texas and back, but my daughter can't! She never could! Oh God! I am so mad I don't know what to do! I wanna know why! I wanna know *why* Shelby's life is over! I wanna know how that baby will *ever* know how wonderful his mother was! Will he *ever* know what she went through for him! Oh *God* I wanna know *why*? *Why*? Lord, I wish I could understand! No! No! No! It's not supposed to happen this way! I'm supposed to go first. I've always been ready to go first! I-I don't think I can take this! I-I don't think I can take this! I-I just wanna *hit* somebody 'til they feel as bad as I do! I just wanna *hit* something! I wanna *hit it hard*!
At this point, Clairee grabs Ouiser and suggests M'Lynn punches her, since the entire parish has wanted to for years. They all dissolve into laughter amidst their tears, and M'Lynn goes on more reflectively:
They turned off the machines. Drum left. Jackson left. They couldn't take it. I find it amusing. Men are supposed to be made out of steel or something. I just sat there. I just held Shelby's hand. There was no noise, no tremble, just peace. Oh god. I realize, as a woman, how lucky I am. I was there when that wonderful creature drifted into my life and I was there when she drifted out. It was the most precious moment of my life.
That comment crystallises something about that special bond between women friends: women *stay* - through the laughter, the tears, the endless analyses, the darkness, when the angel of Death comes to do her job - and we are capable of considering those moments the most precious of our lives. On the Via Dolorosa, Jesus meets his mother, Veronica wipes his face, he comforts the women of Jerusalem and women stand at the foot of his cross. Women are also the first to see the tomb empty, and Mary Magdalene is the first to see him. Precious moments, every one.
We're always there - and as women, *how lucky we are*. Let's race up those ladders, ladies, but remember - *be yourself*. You become a priest or a CEO or a creative director or anything you want to be because of WHO YOU ARE. Even if you're in a male-dominated field, don't change yourself to become more like the boys. Be yourself, and bring your wonderful, unique qualities to bear - and change that field for the better.
And boys, we love you. And sometimes, we love being one of you. But right now, we could do with you changing a nappy or two...
Saturday, 13 January 2007
Gender neutral language
Gender neutral language is a big deal in Catholicism. There are some who feel that the Church needs to make amends for millenia of patriarchy and that gender neutral language is a first step. Others feel that this would undermine tradition and male authority in the Church and is the thin end of the wedge. Still others feel that it would ruin the translation of the mass, the Bible, etc. There are many factions, and since language is the tool we use to communicate our beliefs, ideas and who we are, it tends to get very heated.
Me? Hmm. Well, I love a beautiful translation - the King James Version (KJV) is top of my list for its Shakespearian language and poetic feel. I love the language of the Book of Common Prayer, and should I ever get married, I'd push as hard as I could for the inclusion of these words, "With this ring, I thee wed; with my body, I thee worship; with all my worldly goods, I thee endow." The language is powerful, and it expresses a deeper bond than the insipid, "Take this ring as a token..." of what? A token marriage? A token love? The language we choose, the language we hear, is paramount in shaping our perceptions, our beliefs, our culture. So I am keenly aware that hearing "he", "sons", "brothers", "fathers", "men" week after week, year after year, can be alienating for women.
But I'm also aware that, in English, gender neutral language is as awkward as a seal on land. We don't have neuter pronouns, and I'm guessing (I expect Ari may have more to say on this) that because society developed as a patriarchy, male pronouns rushed to fill the gap. As a native English speaker, I think of "man", "mankind", "brethren" in a neutral way, at least consciously. I'm more worried about women not having a voice than I am about the words, "Pray, brethren..." Let's make ourselves heard, and in using our language to express our experience, the pronouns will follow.
Another part of me feels - and this is going to get me in trouble from several directions - that religions are really male institutions, with their cabals, hierarchies, inter- and intra-group politics, jockeying for power and rulebooks. That part of me wants to pat the boys on the head and say, "Run along to Rome, dears, and fiddle with the fine print. Meanwhile, women will give birth to Jesus; speak to Him honestly and directly at the well and when our brother is dying or our sister sitting on her arse whilst we cook; anoint Him with oil; go out to meet Him publicly on the road to Calvary after you deny Him three times and go into hiding; stand at the foot of the cross; see Him first after He has risen. We will pass it on; we will teach people what it is to *live* it. He entered into relationship with us. Your language can hide that, but it can never take it away."
So I guess I fall in the "not thrilled, but if we treat the disease, the symptoms will disappear" camp.
However, there are times when I feel that using gender neutral language might be the only way forward, such as in the following exchange my friend had at school [you'd think he'd have learned from the "Daily Telegraph" story (see earlier post) that any of his good anecdotes would make it into my blog...]:
Teacher: I made a massive faux pas today
Irim: go on
Teacher: we were talking about miracles
Teacher: I mentioned the case of the man given the severed hand of a Catholic martyr
Teacher: they were horrified
Teacher: so i said something about execution
Irim: ...
Teacher: what is the difference between being hanged and hung?
Teacher: they thought both meant execution
Teacher: so then I said
Teacher: ............erm.........
Teacher: "What does it mean for a man to be hung?"
Gender neutral language. When nothing else will do.
Me? Hmm. Well, I love a beautiful translation - the King James Version (KJV) is top of my list for its Shakespearian language and poetic feel. I love the language of the Book of Common Prayer, and should I ever get married, I'd push as hard as I could for the inclusion of these words, "With this ring, I thee wed; with my body, I thee worship; with all my worldly goods, I thee endow." The language is powerful, and it expresses a deeper bond than the insipid, "Take this ring as a token..." of what? A token marriage? A token love? The language we choose, the language we hear, is paramount in shaping our perceptions, our beliefs, our culture. So I am keenly aware that hearing "he", "sons", "brothers", "fathers", "men" week after week, year after year, can be alienating for women.
But I'm also aware that, in English, gender neutral language is as awkward as a seal on land. We don't have neuter pronouns, and I'm guessing (I expect Ari may have more to say on this) that because society developed as a patriarchy, male pronouns rushed to fill the gap. As a native English speaker, I think of "man", "mankind", "brethren" in a neutral way, at least consciously. I'm more worried about women not having a voice than I am about the words, "Pray, brethren..." Let's make ourselves heard, and in using our language to express our experience, the pronouns will follow.
Another part of me feels - and this is going to get me in trouble from several directions - that religions are really male institutions, with their cabals, hierarchies, inter- and intra-group politics, jockeying for power and rulebooks. That part of me wants to pat the boys on the head and say, "Run along to Rome, dears, and fiddle with the fine print. Meanwhile, women will give birth to Jesus; speak to Him honestly and directly at the well and when our brother is dying or our sister sitting on her arse whilst we cook; anoint Him with oil; go out to meet Him publicly on the road to Calvary after you deny Him three times and go into hiding; stand at the foot of the cross; see Him first after He has risen. We will pass it on; we will teach people what it is to *live* it. He entered into relationship with us. Your language can hide that, but it can never take it away."
So I guess I fall in the "not thrilled, but if we treat the disease, the symptoms will disappear" camp.
However, there are times when I feel that using gender neutral language might be the only way forward, such as in the following exchange my friend had at school [you'd think he'd have learned from the "Daily Telegraph" story (see earlier post) that any of his good anecdotes would make it into my blog...]:
Teacher: I made a massive faux pas today
Irim: go on
Teacher: we were talking about miracles
Teacher: I mentioned the case of the man given the severed hand of a Catholic martyr
Teacher: they were horrified
Teacher: so i said something about execution
Irim: ...
Teacher: what is the difference between being hanged and hung?
Teacher: they thought both meant execution
Teacher: so then I said
Teacher: ............erm.........
Teacher: "What does it mean for a man to be hung?"
Gender neutral language. When nothing else will do.
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