Me Too — So What?
Yesterday, after 42 hours of traveling from London to Doha to Cape Town, I got on Facebook to see “Me Too” posted throughout my timeline, by woman after woman after woman.
Helpfully, one friend included this note with hers:
If all the women, femmes, and non-binary folks who have been sexually harassed or assaulted wrote “me too” as a status, we might give people a sense of the magnitude of the problem.
Silence is the endorsement that has caused sexual harassment to thrive. It’s time to speak up and say enough is enough.
#metoo
It came as no surprise to me that so many of us have had these experiences, sadly.
We all expect it — we’re taught to:
…acts of sexism are commonly employed to validate and rationalize normative misogynistic practices.
For instance, sexist jokes may be told to foster disrespect for women and an accompanying disregard for their well-being, or a rape victim might be blamed for being raped because of how she dressed or acted.
O’Sullivan examines rape culture and fraternities, identifying the socialization and social roles that contribute to sexual aggression, and looks at “frat life” and brotherhood ideals of competition and camaraderie.
In these groups, sex is viewed by young men as a tool of gaining acceptance and bonding with fellow “brothers”, as they engage in contests over sex with women.
Sexualized violence towards women is regarded as part of a continuum in a society that regards women’s bodies as sexually available by default.
And that’s just a brief look at what rape culture is.
I decided to post “me too” as well.
At first, that was all I wrote. “Me too” and the explanatory note from the beginning, for my Facebook network that was unfamiliar with what was going on.
But as I thought about it, as much as I appreciate the solidarity and visibility that us standing up to say “me too” brings, it isn’t enough.
The point isn’t just to say, oh look at how many people this affects.
We have to push it further to say, okay, we see this problem, now what?
So a few hours later, I added this as a comment:
Here’s the saddest part of the truth, no matter how you know me and where in the world we met, you probably know someone who harassed or assaulted me at some point (not to mention you certainly know someone who has harassed or assaulted others).
So this isn’t a statement just to say that there are a lot of (for lack of a better word) victims everywhere, but perpetrators as well.
They are your friends, your coworkers, your party people, your boyfriends, your husbands, your relatives.
They don’t look or act alike, and many of them “you can’t believe!” while others perhaps wouldn’t surprise you at all.
I don’t really know where we really are meant to go from here, as normal people trying to just make this less of a problem for ourselves and people we interact with.
But part of it is:
- calling people out when they make those little comments, when they do microaggressions
- not objectifying people (at any time — in social settings, at work, about people in tv and movies and ads)
- having a conversation / asking people followup questions when they say something inappropriate so that they see that thinking isn’t healthy or right
We learn from each other, we learn what is right and wrong and good and bad by what we see and the feedback we get.
Our society & media send millions of messages a day, some subtle, that perpetuate this rape culture. To combat that, we have to send messages back to each other to show that actually it’s not okay.
We can’t expect it to be a trickle down solution — this has to be a grassroots effort too. We have to say: who are we and what do we believe? What are our values? How do we treat other people?
And then we act that way and demand that our peers meet those standards too.
I saw another post going around alongside all the “me toos” about how we speak of “violence against women” but not who is committing that violence.
The language around these problems tends not to have a subject, just verbs and objects (it’s almost funny, right, that women are objects in our language and our societies).
Women were raped = an object had an action done to it by an unknown force or person.
Men raped women = someone did something to someone/an object.
This passive construction of language relieves blame, it removes any specificity from who or what is causing these events to happen.
Which, to a degree, I understand.
We can have some idea of who is the victim of rape and violence: women. We can measure it somewhat easily: whoever reports it can be tallied up.
But it is much harder to know and categorize exactly who is doing this. Yes, exactly, it is #notallmen. Probably the same man has harassed or assaulted many women in his life (and will continue to). Men and women in power abuse their position and the people under their authority.
So even if we can say with some authority that perhaps 1 in 4 women has been sexually assaulted in some way, we can’t easily know if it is 1 in 4 men who has done it, or 1 in 2, or 1 in 20.
This challenge to discern the perpetrators means we shift to focus on the victims. And even with the best intentions, it results in considerable victim blaming — we tell and teach women how to avoid situations or change their actions or somehow deserve what is happening to them less.
That perpetuates the rape culture.
And though not all men may physically assault women, all men — all people — are responsible for supporting these systemic problems and biases, for participating in toxic masculine behavior patterns and beliefs, which is why this conversation should include everyone & why the solution must include everyone.
So while I, of course, don’t want us to turn our backs on victims or women, I want us to shine a light on men and boys and perpetrators, on all of our words and actions — especially the everyday:
We must stop saying “boys will be boys”.
We must hold boys and men accountable for their words and actions. We must stop dehumanizing and disrespecting women, and we must call it out when it happens, not brush it under the “boyhood” rug or deflate it as acceptable “locker room talk”.
We must stop objectifying other people — whether it’s a coworker or friend or relative or celebrity.
When you convey that their appearance, their fuckability, deserves your judgment because they are attractive or in your sphere or in the public eye, you are perpetuating rape culture. You are blaming victims and bonding over sexual exploitation. You are assuming that people’s bodies are sexually available to you by default instead of by permission.
We must stop reinforcing toxic masculinity.
The male gender stereotype that men should be tough, that men do not cry, that men do not talk about their feelings, that men do not ask for consent, that no means yes — this is toxic for men and women. It puts men and boys into limiting boxes of what is emotionally, physically, and societally acceptable for them to do, think, feel, and say.
Men are expected to be dominant: strong, violent, sexual, and controlling. Women are expected to be submissive: weak, passive, decorative, and controllable.
Men are socialized to believe they need to prove their masculinity by taking this control and dominating women. This is not only enforced by expectations of men to be dominant but also society’s discouragement of men showing any emotions, vulnerability, or sensitivity.
We must acknowledge everyone’s right to sexuality.
How someone looks or dresses or acts does not dictate how someone else gets to treat them. I have struggled with this concept — our society and human culture has so strongly ingrained this idea of “asking for” something based on appearance or friendliness. But the more we question those assumptions and challenge ourselves, we see that embracing your own body and sexuality in no way grants permission to others.
We must learn to ask consent and normalize rejection.
I’ve read that men’s greatest fear is embarrassment whereas women’s is physical harm. As part of that toxic masculinity, men cannot be rejected. It is humiliating to be told no, to respect a woman’s wishes over their own. I believe that much of harassment and assault likely comes from men’s fear of rejection — instead of risking a “no”, they just take action to get what they want.
So part of fixing rape culture is teaching people that it is not shameful or awkward or terrible to be told no, to ask for something or someone and not get it. That someone can not want to date you but still be a friend or coworker. That we can be brave enough to ask for consent and recover from uncomfortable moments. That it isn’t the worst possible thing in the world to be told no.
Katherine works remotely while she travels the world — on the road since June 2014. If you liked this piece, please give it some *claps* below & share. Thank you!