I had a lot to say on a different topic. But something else has come up. I’d like to talk today about advocacy. Fair warning, because I hardly ever swear on this blog, but I’m pretty wound up, and sometimes I swear when I’m wound up.
I know that many of you will disagree with me. I ask that you see that I might just be looking at this from a different perspective. That I might have a different view because I have different experiences than you. That I might see things differently because I am a different person than you. And neither of us is more right or more wrong than the other. We are just different. But we have the same end goal.
I am a firm believer in helping those who cannot help themselves. Or standing with those who can help themselves, but need more people to make a difference. I get really angry when people hurt children or the disabled. Or when people are assholes, just to be assholes. I get really frustrated when people take something said and blow it out of proportion or take it out of context.
However. I’m also a realist, who never presumes that people are out to do good. I have been burned by too many people to believe that everyone is good. I see the shit that people put out and I easily see through a false exterior. I get really pissed off at hypocrisy and double-standards. I get angry at ignorance that can be combatted.
This weekend Twitter blew up with the #YesAllWomen topic. And it’s an important topic. A very important topic. But it’s one I stayed largely silent on. I tweeted something, then deleted it. I sent a few direct messages to people who I wanted to reach out to. But I felt a lot like it wasn’t for me. Like I wasn’t included in that sentiment of ALL women. Because I have never lived through assault, sexual or otherwise. Because I married my first real boyfriend, a standup guy who would never harm me and who consistently looks out for me.
But you know what? Bullshit. I do have a story. I have lived my life as a woman. I grew up in a combined conservative and religious situation where the man was always the Head. My wedding vows included the “to obey” line wherein I promised to never cross Jim. (Thankfully he hasn’t held me to that.) I grew up being taught to check under my car for men who would cut my achilles tendon and kidnap me. I was taught to walk with my keys between my fingers to use as a weapon. I was taught to never go out after dark alone. I was taught to live in fear. Because I was a tender, weak woman. I must submit to men. I must be scared when alone. And now? I didn’t want to go pick up a filing cabinet I was buying from Craigslist by myself. I text Jim when I’m going running so he knows where to look for me if I don’t check in. And I’m teaching my daughter to be fearful. And that sucks. It sucks that one of my best friends was assaulted by her boyfriend and their roommate drove the asshole to the bus station instead of letting the cops pick him up. It sucks that I know so many people who were assaulted or raped or both, and many still feel like their assaults were their fault. I do have a hand in this fight. I do have something to say. I am the mother of a daughter who just might rule the world someday. Because she can. Because she’s awesome. Because no one had better stop her if that’s her aspiration.
And I know that the point of #YesAllWomen was to empower women. But I didn’t feel empowered. I felt shuttered. I felt like some (NOT ALL) women were using it to bash men for being the way they are, whether the shit from their or our society’s history (meaning: the way they were raised or the way society has favored men and set it up for them to have an easy time) made them that way or they chose it. And I felt like a lot (NOT ALL) of men were using it to defend themselves, and fully missing the point. And I kept reading that men should keep silent; this isn’t about you. And then some teenage jerks picked a fight with two of my online acquaintances and were inappropriate and terrible and in support of using force against women, and talking about how women should be making them sandwiches and their MOTHERS defended them. And I realized: This is bigger than letting women tell their stories. This needs advocates. Of all kinds.
This needs women who have been harmed. This needs women who haven’t. This needs women who have lived through hell. This needs women who have never dreamed of the pain their friends have felt. This needs women who have sat by because they didn’t know how to help. This needs women who have seen the pain inflicted upon their friends and felt helpless. This needs women who have lived in fear just because they were women. This needs women who have felt safe all their lives. This needs women who have been told something that wasn’t their fault was their fault. This needs women who have been told they shouldn’t have worn what they did or drank what they did or been where they were. This needs women who have been put in uncomfortable situations. This needs women who are the mothers of boys OR mothers of girls (or both). This needs women who have struggled. And and and. YES, all women need to get involved. Because this is about ALL women.
BUT.
This also needs men who want to be part of the change. This needs men who have made mistakes but have truly seen the error in their ways. This needs famous authors who tweet about how important it all is. This needs athletes and politicians and actors and musicians of all sexes. This needs fathers of daughters and fathers of sons. This needs men who have seen women they love get hurt. This needs men who love women and want to see them succeed.
Because those boys who picked a fight with my acquaintances? They aren’t going to listen to a woman. Their mothers have been taught that the man is the head. Those boys have been raised to believe it. Maybe it will take a favorite author or athlete to get them to understand the severity of this situation. They don’t care about the stories of the women. They may not be mentally ill, just living their easy lives, being men who were told they “rule the world.” Or they may very well be mentally ill and in need of help. They may not see it until they marry a woman who has been through abuse. They may not see it it until they have a sister or daughter and see the unfairness or see her get hurt. They may never see it. The men who never considered any of this until they had daughters? It sucks that it takes that to get them to see the problem, but GOOD that they are seeing it and want to be a part of the change! The men who made mistakes when they were young and stupid and growing up in a world where they were taught they were the top because they were men? There may be hope for them, too. The next generation of men can be part of the change. And my friends who are raising sons are working toward that, just like I am in raising my daughter.
I get that the men didn’t need to tell their stories. It was a time for women to bring to light the things that men can’t understand, that many women can’t even comprehend. But I don’t agree that they should keep silent. Not forever. Not completely. And if a high profile man wants to get involved, to be an advocate, to try to be part of the change? Bring it.
Be an ally. Be an advocate. Get involved. Be part of the change. Or get out of the way. Because it’s coming. Damned if my daughter is going to grow up in fear, just because she lacks a penis.
