A Message to Good Men about Consent and Rape

Rape: a horrifying event, a violation of the most extreme kind, a trauma that can affect a survivor for years and years. Most people understand what it is, in that upon hearing the word they know generally what happened - a man penetrated a woman against her will, probably with force, such as holding her down.

At least, this is what we've been conditioned to think when we hear the word "rape." We think of a male perpetrator, a female victim, and forced, probably violent, penis-in-vagina sex. But this is wrong, and picturing rape with these specific details is incredibly damaging to everyone. Like most things that are completely horrible, rape is hard to talk about. But we have to. We are doing a disservice to everyone - both potential penetrators and victims and current survivors - when we talk about rape with one narrow definition. One week into my training to become a rape crisis counselor, and I've already had my definition of rape, which I thought was quite advanced, challenged and corrected.

One of the most interesting things to come up has been how men are conditioned by society and the media to rape women through tools other than violence - tools like coercion and alcohol, and how to many men, their use of these tools has been so condoned and normalized by the world around them that they use them to rape women who they respect and want to be good to. This post is about men who rape unintentionally, who want to be good and get consent but have been so affected by our society's rape culture that they don't even recognize their actions as rape.

Please note, this is not all people who rape - there are many perpetrators who rape with full knowledge that what they are doing is rape and do it anyway. Those sorts of people need something different to stop them from raping. This post is about the population of men who want to have consensual sex and rape mainly due to lack of education on how to properly ask for consent. I'm hoping that this post will help more of these sorts of men learn how to do better.

Professional Attire at Work: An Impossible Window

Any other working women out there ever feel the soul crushing task of getting dressed in the morning?

Here's a little background: for two years, I served an education focused organization powered by national service. In layman's terms, AmeriCorps gave me a small stipend for serving (intensive, work-like, semi-paid volunteering) in an urban school. For two years, wearing a uniform was part of the job. A uniform with absolutely no flexibility: the only thing I got to any say in was the watch I wore, two pieces of jewelry, and the things I put in my hair, so long as they were only black. Not a lot of choice in the morning.

At first it was crippling and I felt like my creativity was being crushed, but by the end of it, boy let me tell you, I was content. I saved my best clothes for the weekend. It took me all of 20 minutes to get from my bed to walking to the bus. No thought necessary. I couldn't wear the uniform wrongly once I knew the few simple rules, like: tuck in your shirt. Don't unbutton your button-up past the second button. Always wear the belt.

That was it. No room to mess up. No thought. No worries about if you were being too provocative or not professionally "feminine" enough.

However, now I've graduated from the service position into one of the few open jobs at the same organization. A real job that pays more than poverty wages and has real benefits and requires the deceivingly simple stipulation that I wear "business casual" attire.

Business casual: a way to dress that is simple for men, the only drawback the one type of shirt and one type of pants required have to be ironed. But you know what? I'd take a few minutes of ironing in the morning over the endless worry, second-guessing, shade-throwing, gossiping, double standard that women in the business world deal with.

I have never had trouble dressing myself before I got my first "real" job. I'm mature and confident. And here's a sample of the things that run through my head about my professional attire any given day:

How our apology culture stops us from growing

I'm working on developing the trait of being able to call people out in an approachable, respectful and loving way. Getting "called out" and also feeling loved and respected don't usually go together. It takes a certain person with a certain mindset and certain relationship between the person at fault and the person doing the calling out to make it work. I've tried it many times but can count the number of times I've been successful on one hand.

To know what I mean, think to your closest relationship - probably a partner, best friend or sibling. Someone that you have a relationship of deep mutual respect with. Someone who can tell you "you know, it really hurts me when you do that" and you listen before getting defensive, and actually try to understand their perspective. Most of us don't have many relationships like this - we're lucky to have even one person that we can simultaneously be vulnerable enough to admit being hurt by, and loving enough to tell them so in a way that they will actually hear it, rather than becoming defensive.

Simply hearing "sorry" often isn't enough - like when a partner says "I'm sorry" after a big fight, but you know it's meaningless because they don't actually know what they're apologizing for. And I think we'd all prefer to be truly understood by those around us that to have a rose and a meaningless, if heartfelt, apology.

The reason these sorts of relationships are few and far between is because you have to be invested enough to listen to the offended person's perspective and attempt to truly understand it rather than simply apologizing so you can get past the awkwardness and move on. This is what about 99% of people you know do. Here's an example: you're at work, eating lunch in the break room when a co-worker you get along well with but aren't close to tells a story about forgetting his keys that morning and says "I'm like a blond chick sometimes," which you understand to be equated with being an idiot, at least to him. You look up, push your blond hair back from your face and say "excuse me?" The guy, who is a good and decent person, quickly apologizes. "Sorry, you know what I mean, it's just an expression." You want to keep it going, to ask him why he would say that if it would risk offending someone in the room and get him to agree to not say such things anymore, but you let it drop. You have to work with him every day, and after all, he did just give a real apology and clearly didn't mean to hurt you.

Of course, blonds don't get comments like this nearly as much as oppressed peoples - notably, women and minorities. As a white woman, I cannot speak to the minority experience and will leave it alone. If you're a minority and would like to comment, I'd love to read your thoughts. What I can speak to is what it's like to be a woman and hear things like:

• "God, that woman behind the counter didn't smile at me once - what a BITCH."
• "Why haven't you taken your husband's last name?"
• "Come on, pretty girl, smile! Don't look so sad."
• "Quit being such a tease."
• "All these little pre-teens in their booty shorts are just asking for it."
• "God I'd love to hit that ass."
• "Cat calling is just a harmless compliment. Just accept it for what it is."
• "Looks like Miley Cyrus has joined the slutty girls club."
• "You know how to install an air conditioner?"
• "Are you sure you want to use the drill? Maybe you should stick to the non-power tools."
• "Is it your period or something?"
• "What will you do about your job when you decide to have a family?"
• "I'm not sexist, you're just overly sensitive."

You can either ignore something or challenge it. If you are brave enough to challenge it, you can do so in two ways: the angry way that lets you get your feelings out while letting the other person know what a horrible person/idiot they are - or the way that is kind and loving and meant to effect some change in the offender rather than make him or her feel bad.

It's hard to challenge it in the loving way because it can feel so damn good to do it an angry and justified way. And anyone who gets hurt by someone else's thoughtless comment's feelings are totally justified. But when choosing to respond, you have to ask yourself: what is my end goal? Is the end goal is to walk away with a feeling of justified and angry self-righteousness, knowing you have one less friend, or to get that friend to truly understand why what they said was wrong and not do it again? The latter is what we want but the former is what normally happens. And that's human nature. But it's time to work against it.

Many people who say things degrading about sex or race - or blondness - are decent people who honestly don't know why what they're saying is hurtful. And if no one has ever taken the time to tell them how they sound and what it does to others, how could they?

"Mercy" film urges discussion of rape and victim blaming

Mercy, a new indie film centered around the rape of young woman and fall out - which including victim blaming within a culture of rape - urges an important discussion of justice, violence, and victims in a society that allows and even encourages rape.

The film is meant to both further promote the dialogue that recent atrocities have begun, as well as explore the horrendous way that such crimes are dealt with by the media. As the website explains:

The incidents themselves are heinous, but the official response to them by the media -- and the American public at large -- is almost as disturbing.  The extent to which victims of sexual assault are shamed and ostracized for speaking up speaks volumes about the way our culture perceives rape.  And we are of the firm belief that this needs to change.

Needless to say, an incredibly important movie is being made. I've written on these issues before, and a film will hit home the very real way that rape affects people - probably in a way that will be extremely uncomfortable and downright painful. And that's a good thing.

Marissa Mayer looked girly and submissive in Vogue - but that's not the problem.

photo: Vogue

You may have seen the recent picture of Marissa Mayer (right) posing sexily on a lounging chair, all dolled up and wearing heels, in the latest issue of Vogue. Some people say it's a step backwards for women, that a male CEO would be photographed in a more powerful position.

That second part is true. And we should definitely work towards overhauling the societal structures that make it normal for women to be - and be photographed as - submissive while men are dominant.

But Marissa Mayer is allowed to pose in Vogue however she wants. By critiquing her every move, in a way that doesn't happen to men, we are reinforcing the notion that a woman's actions can and should be policed. The idea of policing a woman's actions takes lots of forms - saying a friend's shirt is too provocative, that a drunk woman on the street probably should be more careful, that a powerful female CEO's appearance in a magazine should follow a specific set of standards. These things are all policing a woman's looks and, because actions go into making up how you look, their actions.

When we police a woman's appearance, we are telling her that her body does not belong to her. When you say that a woman shouldn't be wearing something or looking a certain way, you send the message that you know what she should do, that you know what's best for her, that you should have the power to make her decisions - in essence, that you - perhaps representing societal norms as a whole - own her.

We can hate on Marissa Mayer for her hit and miss workplace policies,but to hate on her for how she chooses to appear in a photograph is different. I work hard to not police the actions of other women, even if I think I'm doing it for the "right" feminist reasons. I don't try to convince my engaged friends to keep their last names like I did if they like the idea of a new last name from the man they love. If my family members are able and willing to be stay-at-home moms, more power to them. And if a good friend wants to wear a shirt that shows her cleavage, I'm not going to police her actions and "warn" her that her shirt might give men the wrong idea or something like that, because it's up to the men around her not to perceive her shirt as an invitation. 

This is also why I'm not going to say anything about Marissa Mayer's photograph in Vogue. If getting dolled up and doing what the professionals at Vogue told her to do is what made her feel comfortable appearing in one of the most famous publications on the planet, then fine. I have my personal opinions about what it all means in the grander scheme of things, but I'm not going to police the actions of one individual woman making her own choices - that's easy to do but ultimately ineffective and creating any change. Instead, I'm going to work harder against the things that matter on a larger scale. I'm going to make sure I'm not quiet and submissive in my workplace, even when that feels like the safe thing to do. I'm going to focus my efforts on not letting my husband be the default decision maker, which for whatever messed up reasons sometimes feels like the natural thing to both of us. I choose to wear minimal or no make up so that worry a little less about if I'm getting somewhere because of my appearance rather than my abilities. These are my choices, and they reflect where I am at my part of the journey and work towards equality. But other woman are in different places, have different comfort levels, and feel differently about these issues, and that's ok.

Recently a teenage family member I was spending a few days with asked me if a shirt that was somewhat see-through was "ok" to wear out. I said "if you're comfortable it's fine by me" even though I wanted so badly to tell her that she wasn't an object for strange men's viewing pleasure and could she for God's sake put on an opaque shirt? I didn't say this because I did the same sort of thing when I was a teenager, and nothing anyone said could get through to me. I had to endure the lewd stares and comments for a few years before I realized, on my own terms, that I didn't want to dress that way anymore. The decision was and is much more meaningful and absolute than if others had policed my clothing; if my mom had forced me to wear different clothes, it would have been a short-term win for her but I may have changed the second I was out of her sight. Instead, she (usually) let me wear what I wanted, and I came to a deeper and more permanent decision about the way I dress.

The call to action is this: don't police the actions of other women. This is a short-sighted and usually ineffective way to make change. It's easy to call out a stranger for taking a "step backwards" for women everywhere; it's harder but more effective to work against the societal and cultural standards that surround her choice in the first place. Double down on your own efforts. Cultivate a powerful stance and presence, focus your efforts on your abilities over appearance, or do whatever it is that works against the things you dislike in Marissa Mayer that you're personally comfortable with. Think about what you can do, in your own life, to work against the messed up culture that puts one of America's most powerful woman in a submissive and sexual pose for her photoshoot.

What feminism does not equal: aloneness, lesbianism, or man-hating

Feminism can be considered a dirty word. For much of the population, it brings to mind cranky old bra burners who hate on men and never get married.

Just look at Katy Parry's recent rejection of the word as she accepted the Billboard Woman of the Year award - so ironic - or Taylor Swift saying she doesn't believe in "guys versus girls."

Now Taylor, I love your music, but you're hitting on a misinformed belief about feminism commonly held by women in our age group: guys versus girls.

Simply put, no. This is not what feminism is about. Feminism is, at it's most basic definition, about liberation and equality. Not being better, or having power over men, or oppressing them so they can have a taste of their own medicine. It's not about being a single cat lady at a rally burning your bra because men are evil.

In fact, you can be a self-identified feminist and still wind up married to the man of your dreams - I know because I'm a feminist who just married the man of my dreams. And no, we did not meet at a bra-burning rally. That doesn't happen any more, and in fact, it never did. So put that stereotype out of your mind.

My husband is a man who is on his way to becoming a chef, loves pit bulls, hip hop music, and scary movies. He grew up in a typical household in Wisconsin without any notable hardcore feminists around him. He dated girls in high school and college, met yours truly at the age of 21, and proposed to her in typical proposal fashion a year and a half later. He's never identified as a feminist, but obviously I see it in him or I wouldn't be here today, sitting on a couch in the apartment we share on Chicago's west side. When we talked about him being a feminist, he listened to what I had to say and then said "yeah, I suppose I am a feminist then."

Like it was no big deal.

Because guess what? It isn't. You can be a feminist and still date cool guys. You can be a feminist and wear a bra, wear make up, have "girl talk" with your friends, and be heartbroken over a breakup.

the summer I became a feminist

I wasn't born a feminist. Rather, it has evolved over time. Specifically, a switch went off in my head during the summer after my junior year of college, during one really hot (temperature-wise) seven week period of working at a summer program for high schoolers.

There was a heat wave in New Haven and despite all the great things about Yale being one of the world's most prestigious universities blah blah blah, their dorms do not have air conditioning. As an instructor/RA at the summer program being hosted there, I was contractually bound to sleep in a boiling little room on the second floor, peruse the Quad in search of kids heat-resistent enough to play four square, and roam around New Haven during their free time just to make sure they were being resepectful in the stores and restaurants. Needless to say, other than the few hours I spent in air-conditioned classrooms teaching, I was by default hot, sweaty, and irritated.

It was that heat that got me out of my comfort zone and into the realization there there was more to me than a prettily made up face.