#AllMenCan LISTEN (on Policy Mic's Apparent Unravelling)

I'd like to start this diatribe with the realization that in posting this (assuming they read it) I'm totally blowing my chances of ever working for Policy Mic in the future. Which peeves me because at some point I'd have really liked to write for them. But, alas, it must be done.

After becoming embroiled in a mild skirmish on Twitter which they didn't really respond to, today, they published this piece on women's rights:

37 Men Show Us What Real Men's Activists Look Like

Where to begin?

First of all, can I just say I am so relieved to have 37 men telling me what they think about women. The pushback wasn't complete without an article highlighting men, guys.

Secondly, it's staged.

EIGHTEEN of the 37 pictures were taken in the same room. Since Policy Mic didn't remark on this, I can only assume they gathered their male employees in the cafeteria or something, and had them hold up signs so they could complete this assignment. I hope I'm wrong. Maybe it was another company who decided to do a project on it. But if that is the case, the project should be recognized, don't you think?

Here are a few examples of what I'm talking about.

Times that by 18. Call me cynical, but the message doesn't have the same impact when it feels like we are being tricked into thinking these were random calls to internet activism by men propelled by their own volition.

I mean, check this out. In 17 and 18, there is the same man in the same plaid shirt in the background (that guy is actually in the background of 15 and 16, too. Same pose. Everything.)

Also, 26 and 37 are the same picture.

Oh. Looks like they fixed that, now. ^^

Let's take a look at some of the signs, shall we?

4) Alpha males, huh?

5) "It takes strong women to give us the strength to know better." This is in regards to hitting women. I do not appreciate the implication that in order not to be hit I need to be a strong enough woman to teach a man not to do that.

8) "MRAs don't speak for me." ... Not all men.

10) "Because I'm a man and I will never hurt you." Not. All. Men.

21) "My masculinity doesn't include misogyny." NOT ALL MEN.

34) Wielding is spelled wrong, but more importantly, it's a sign indicating that the reason men should be involved is that their own safety is at stake. Which might be true. But isn't really what the conversation is about right now.

Also important to know that the man in #34 is a writer for Policy Mic. Which they didn't mention.

UPDATE: courtesy Brooke Binkowski, San Diego reporter.
#1 - PolicyMic founder Jake Horowitz
#9 - PolicyMic sports editor Bryan Graham
#12 - PolicyMic social media editor Jared Keller
#18 - PolicyMic editor Michael McCutcheon (and this shows that the room which is featured in half the photos is a PolicyMic room or somehow connected to PolicyMic).
#34 - PolicyMic contributor Charles Clymer

(Again, nothing wrong with that, but it needs to be noted in the article, guys).

37) "If there weren't women, there would be no men." Oh. Well. Um, thanks for that brand new information?

In the middle of this article, they ask us to use the #allmencan hashtag to make our voices known about what men can do.

I've said this many, many, many times before, but I'll say it again.

All men can LISTEN.

And if they were listening, well, maybe we wouldn't feel the need to post articles with them talking over us so much.




 

One Size Fits Some - Contributor Post

Today, I'm lucky enough to have an important topic discussed by Pollychromatic. When it comes to defining women based on their experiences...perhaps we shouldn't. She says it better than I ever could in this piece.

...

Kelly Rose Pflug-Back wrote this piece that appeared on The Feminist Wire. Then it appeared on Huffpo. Then it appeared within my social media.

Then I went crazy.

So here’s where I present my creds, right? Here’s where I state that I’m part of the estimated one out of every four women who have been sexually assaulted. And yes, it’s true. Multiple times, in multiple ways, and with multiple accompanying levels of other trauma that were inflicted at the same time.

It’s also true that that does not define me. Nor does it define my sexuality. Nor does it define my ability to have a healthy sexuality. And frankly, I’m kind of getting sick of this presumption that it does, or that it should. Or that there’s something wrong about me if it doesn’t.

The assumption that all women should be treated as victims of sexual assault, or even that all women who have been victimized by sexual assault want to be labeled as victims of sexual assault forever and ever is a pretty big assumption.

It’s not all of me, and it seems part and parcel of the kyriarchal worldview that the actions of those in oppressive power positions leave no option for those who aren’t in those power positions to be nothing else but receiving vessels of the oppression. As I said angrily after reading this article, I am more than the sculpture that was left behind after the wax and mold of the assaults have been removed. I resent the implication that it was a molding act at all for me. I don’t resent it if it was such to someone else, but for me, I resent it.

Culturally we do not expect a man who has been held up at gunpoint and robbed to feel defined by that forever. Nor do we expect them to always live in fear. Or to always need to be approached with caution. Or expect them to want to be called victims of gun violence forever. Yet we do so with women who have lived through sexual assault. We expect them to feel broken. To feel as though all sex is suspect. To have flashbacks if touched wrong, perhaps, and then we give them the title sexual assault survivor forever.

That doesn’t really work for everyone. It certainly doesn’t work for me. I don’t want to be treated with kid gloves like I am a wounded creature ready to bolt at the first sign of a trigger warning. There’s a level of condescension in the assumption that you know how I feel that is pretty intolerable for me.

I caution that I do not feel it is wrong to feel any of these large spectrum of things, from the man who was held up at gunpoint having flashbacks to the woman (or man, because hey, it happens to men too) who was sexually assaulted to feel however they feel about it.

Maybe instead of assuming that there is one right way to behave, we treat people as the individuals we all are. There definitely is a universality in the spectrum that is the human existence, and common experiences often tie us together, but our actions and reactions are so much larger than a simple narrative gives room for. Let’s start actually asking people how they feel and how they want to be treated, and give room for any answer to be acceptable, even if it doesn’t fall within what we can personally do. There’s a few billion people on this planet. We don’t need everybody to treat everybody like lovers, best friends, family, co-workers, or even acquaintances. There’s this concept of boundaries within psychology wherein we expect different levels of deference and awareness from different people. Boundaries are often some of the first things to blur when we start having any sort of trauma or tough time, mentally. This is sort of my plea to get back to some level of them.

If we are coming to a place of acceptance that beauty is a spectrum, can we also come to a place of acceptance that sexuality is a spectrum, and that also the sexuality and psyche of those who have lived through sexual assault is also a spectrum?

If the point of feminism is to open the door of possible expressions of human existence, rather than closing them, should we not also leave this door open?



 

Women Stay

Women stay.  Not all women, of course, there are some who break away, who take off despite the risks, who take the first step in liberating themselves from a violent situation and bettering their lives.  But the fact remains that too many (even one is too many, but we're talking thousands, millions, of women) stay in abusive relationships.

Many see no alternative, or the alternative they do see seems even worse than where they are.  Those who have children are in an even more precarious position.  They fear for their children's wellbeing, both while they remain in their relationship and even moreso should they choose to leave.

When you are a parent, your decisions directly affect your children.  For me, that means dealing with excess whining as we board a plane home for the Christmas holiday.  For others, it means being painted into a corner with no way out.

How will a woman with no car, no income, no friends or family, and no shelter be able to provide for her children out on her own?  How will that woman be able to survive in hiding, should her partner choose to look for her, find her, bring her back?  Will her children bear part of 'her punishment' for leaving?  How will she be able to feed them, clothe them, care for them if she's on the run?

It's easy to type this from my warm living room on my laptop as my babies sleep.  When I'm done with this piece, I'll start dinner in the crock pot.  I'll set up our Christmas tree.

Easier still would be for me to simply write: make the call.  Call a shelter, an ambulance, the police, your mother.  Call someone.  Act.  Get out.  This message, while best intended, is completely lacking in empathy.  Women in violent situations cannot just make a call.  Something that seems innocuous - simple - to someone like me, can be a matter of life or death to a woman surrounded by such volatility.

For all I know, that woman's phone is tapped or her computer is keylogged.  Even reading this post could set off a chain reaction of abuse.  And that's assuming she even has access to a phone or a computer.  One doesn't need to be locked in the basement to be held prisoner.

Remember that.  If you are in a violent situation, and you think that it's not bad enough to attempt to get out, if you worry that the consequences of your attempt will make life worse for you and your kids, remember: one doesn't need to be locked in the basement to be held prisoner.

Abuse is rarely as concrete as basement walls.  It permeates.  If you are being abused, it sullies every pocket of every safe space you think you might have in your mind.  Do you think you are good?  Do you think you are good enough?  Do you think he is right?  Do you think you deserve better?  These are the important questions.

More important still:  Do you think your children deserve better?  Because they are worth that shot in the dark.  You are worth that shot in the dark.

And maybe it's not so dark after all.  Of course, that is my entitlement speaking.  It is that dark.  But it is still worth it.  This essay is worthless.  It is rhetoric, it is lip service.  Pretty words on a page do not dial phones.

What we need to do in the face of violence against women is act, not speak.  Speaking is useful only in its capacity to bring about action.  The readers here don't have to donate money, they don't have to hold signs in rallies to promote awareness, they don't have to change their Facebook pictures.  They simply have to think.  If each of us thinks hard enough, I bet we'll each come up with at least one person we know, personally, who is suffering some kind of abuse. We cannot sit idly by and callously tell them to call the people.  We must show them that it can be done.  We must personally illuminate the path for them.  Not for all of them - that is daunting, that is impossible.  For that one person we know.  For her kids.  We must act, not speak.  We must be there for her.  We must help her emerge from the trap of her own esteem and thinking.

One hand outstretched in the darkness is worth a million words on this computer screen.  Call your friend.  Stop by for a visit.  Help her.  She needs you.



(This post is in participation with the One Wee Voice Violence Against Women Campaign.  Please visit Life - Inspired by the Wee Man for more information and links on this issue.)