A new article and video over at Mic highlights some of the core issues at the heart of Rape Culture. The video, a joint effort between Vine star Chaz Smith and the One Student project, discusses the disrespect for and the entitlement to women’s bodies felt by many men. By way of a sports analogy, the video makes the point that a patriarchal culture (such as ours) filled with toxic ideas about masculinity teaches men to be the aggressors and women to be on the defensive. On the defense from what you might ask? Think about the following:
When women are catcalled on the streets, who is doing the catcalling?
When women are sexually assaulted what group commits the vast majority of assaults?
The answer to both questions is M E N (I dearly hope there are no fools reading this who think I’ve just said “all men harass and sexually assault women”, bc that’s not what I’ve done. If you are one of those fools, learn to read for comprehension). As men are part of the problem, that also means that men are part of the solution. An essential part. How is catcalling going to end unless men stop engaging in such harassment? How are incidents of sexual assault against women going to diminish without men making the choice to stop sexually assaulting women? The video raises questions of this nature (and more). Listen for yourself:
While watching the video, I was reminded of an incident a few years ago. But first:
Disclaimer:
I am about to share a story with readers.
A story with an ending I played a role in.
Before I share this story though, I want to make one thing clear:
I am not asking for a cookie. My participation in the resolution of this situation was wholly an attempt on my part to do what I felt was the right thing.
Back in 2012, a friend and co-worker of mine-Rachel (not her real name)-confided in me that she was sexually assaulted by the General Manager of the restaurant we both worked at. Our restaurant occasionally made deliveries of food and on this occasion, Rachel and GM went together. On their return trip, Rachel said GM attempted to kiss her. While he failed at that attempt, he did succeed in groping her breast. When they returned to work, Rachel told me what happened.
I did not ask her if she led him on.
I did not question her attire.
I did not blame her.
I did tell her that I believed her and asked what she wanted to do about it. She said she was unsure and I suggested contacting the Regional Supervisor of the restaurant. Rachel was hesitant at first, so I told her if she wanted I could ask the RS how allegations of sexual assault are handled by the company. She agreed to that, and shortly thereafter, I spoke with RS (but did not reveal anything about Rachel’s situation). He said the company takes such allegations seriously and encourages employees to speak up if they’ve been assaulted. I told Rachel this, and she agreed to talk to RS. After she told him about being assaulted, RS asked her to meet with him and discuss what she wanted to do. Rachel agreed to this on the condition that I be there in the meeting (she later said she wanted me there for support). RS agreed to that, as did I. During the meeting, I sat silently in a chair close to the two of them and simply listened. I only spoke when either of them directed a question at me.
The meeting happened on a Friday. Over the weekend, Rachel expressed concerns about her job. If GM was not fired or sent to another restaurant, what would she do? She didn’t want to remain at a job where she would have to work with someone who sexually assaulted her and might do so again. Would she tough it out and remain working there and deal with/try to avoid asshole GM? Find another job? Thankfully she didn’t have to give thought to those questions for long. The following Monday, when I came to work, I learned that GM was fired for sexually harassing Rachel. I have to admit that I was somewhat surprised given that allegations of sexual harassment and assault are routinely dismissed. Nonetheless, I was pleased at the outcome. More importantly, Rachel was very glad to know that GM had been terminated.
As with many men, GM displayed a lack of respect for a woman’s body and a sense that he is entitled to a woman’s body. If he had respect for Rachel’s body, he would not have sexually assaulted her. Without his sense of entitlement to women’s bodies, I doubt he’d have tried to touch Rachel in a sexual manner without her consent. His beliefs are a product of a culture that devalues women-their bodies, their lives, their accomplishments. These toxic ideas of masculinity harm women and men. They need to be countered, especially by men. We’ve been part of the problem for too long now. It’s time to be part of the solution and here are a few things that can help:
- supporting and believing victims of sexual assault and rape
- refusing to engage in victim blaming and criticizing those who do
- educating yourself and others on bodily autonomy and the importance of consent
- not harassing women on the streets and criticizing those who do
- re-examining your beliefs about entitlement to the bodies of others
- ensuring that all sexual activities you take part in involve consenting adults
I’d forgotten how much I enjoy this song by The Script.
Trigger Warning: Death or a loved one
Emotional TL; DR (Too Long; Don’t Read-if you don’t like reading long comments)
Speaking of music from The Script, “If you ever come back” is one of my favorite songs. Unfortunately it’s also a song that hits me in the gut. I don’t relate to the song as it is likely intended (its a song about missing your partner, longing for them back in your life, and having a glimmer of hope that while they’re gone at the moment, they’ll come back). For me, this was a song that I listened to a lot after Micah passed away and part of the chorus resonates with me:
http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/script/ifyouevercomeback.html
(bolding mine)
Those lines really tear me apart. I’m crying as I type this. Micah and I were never in a relationship (we very briefly experimented and I realized I didn’t care for him in that way), but in everything else, he was what I would call a soul mate (if I were religious and/or spiritual). We were both atheists and we shared many of the same tastes in music. We both liked movies. In fact he was a manager at one of the local movie theaters. I remember that we first met at one of the gay bars here in town. It was October 2007. I remember the month in part because Steve Niles’ movie ’30 Days of Night’ came out around the time we met. We bonded quickly over comic books. I remember we sat outside the bar for a while (hour or two I think) discussing comic books. He invited me to see the aforementioned horror movie for free (perk of being a manager) which I did and I quite enjoyed it. From then on, we were nearly inseparable. People saw us at the bar together so much they just assumed we were a couple (which got on our nerves for a while, bc people assumed they knew what type of relationship we had). We got so close that we’d finish each others’ sentences from time to time. We’d routinely think of the same things and tell one another to “get outta my head”.
In the beginning of our friendship, Micah was debating leaving Pensacola because he didn’t like living here. He had recently been discharged from the military and didn’t know what to do with his life. Shortly after we met, he changed his mind. He had a crush on me which was probably made more intense by our crazy chemistry. He also had some issues from the military that really disturbed him. He never elaborated on what they were and I never pressed. I figured that if he wanted to discuss them, he would. He drank. A lot. When he would get drunk, he’d often hit on me. It culminated one night when I took him home and he hit on me again, after puking at the bar from getting so drunk. I didn’t want to leave him alone, so I called a close friend of ours-a police officer (M). She stayed with him to ensure he got inside safe and didn’t try driving.
The next day I told him that I like him and care about him, but I didn’t want to date him. Moreover, I said that I want to keep partying with him, but I don’t want to feel like I’m responsible for him every time we go out (that’s how much he drank). I told him that if we were going to keep clubbing together that I didn’t want to deal with him being sloppy drunk. I couldn’t stop him from drinking, but I told him I would stop going out with him. He cut back a little bit on drinking, but the real impetus to stop was a car accident he got into two days after Xmas 07. He totaled his car (somehow he walked away from the accident completely fine–thankfully).
He stopped drinking for a long time. He also started trying to eat healthier. I think he weighed 240 lbs when we first met and he expressed a desire to lose weight and become a little more physically fit. I was working out pretty heavily at the time and he started coming to the gym with me. In about 6 months, he went from 240 to 180, which made him happier.
During this time, he often told me I could come up to the theater and see any movie I wanted any time. It took some time before I took him up on the offer. I felt like I’d be taking advantage of him, and free movies was not the reason I was his friend. We wound up establishing a fun Tuesday night routine called Supper Club. We invited a few friends to a restaurant on a Tuesday evening for a social gathering. At the end of the meal, someone would pick the restaurant for the next week, and we’d meet up there. Each week, someone new would pick the next weeks’ restaurant. This continued for months, with varying numbers of people. The first group was 6 or 7 of us. We got up to 16 one time. It was so much fun. Many times we’d go to the bar after dinner to play Tuesday night bingo, and follow that up with screening movies at his theater before they were released to the public. It was so awesome seeing movies in relative privacy. At most we’d have 15 people in the theater. Micah would have his employees save popcorn for us in a big trash bag, so we’d have something to much on.
Since we were close friends, and he was without a car, I wound up taking him to work or home frequently. He began staying the night at my house bc it was more convenient than driving halfway across town so often. A month or so after the accident, I started letting him borrow my car when I was at work. I’d often work 12 hour days at the bar, so obviously I wasn’t using the car during that time. I made him promise me not to drink if he was going to drive my car, which he agreed to. When he got done with work, he’d often come to the bar and hang out and wait for me to get off. He did that so frequently that the barstaff and many of the regulars got to know him (we had to deal with the whole “are you two together” all over again).
In time I offered to let him move in with me and my other roomie (whom I checked with first to get the ok from), so that’s what he did. That made transportation easier. He and I started taking trips out of town to Dallas, Atlanta, or New Orleans. We even traveled to Orlando where my parents live several times. During this time, my sister was living in South Korea and she was over there for years. Micah bought her car from my parents (it was really theirs, not hers). My parents liked him quite a bit. When my sister came back to the states briefly, I remember going out drinking with she and Micah in Jacksonville, FL. It’s still surreal to go to bars with my sister. She’s 8 years younger than I am (she turns 30 this August come to think of it).
Unfortunately, Micah died of a drug related heart attack on January 7, 2010. I came home from work and discovered his body (had to crawl through the window bc his door was locked-an apparent habit from the military). I’ve never experienced loss of that caliber before. That was the most painful experience of my life. Grabbing his leg and feeling the stiffness was…there are no words. For months after, I would feel like I could feel his presence still in the house. I think that’s similar to ghost limbs. When I would listen to the above song by The Script those bolded lyrics really hit me, bc the sensation I kept having made it seem like he was still alive, but just not home. The idea of leaving the light on, and leaving the door on the latch resonated with me bc I really wanted him to come home.
Micah was one of the most thoughtful people I knew. He bought a concert ticket for a coworker out of the blue and worked for the guy one Friday night–just because. When he borrowed my car, he’d often text me to see if I needed anything while he was out getting groceries. Our other roomie, E, has long had financial problems, and Micah-without ever being asked, would cover bills for him. He wouldn’t ask for anything or even request a thank you. He would help care for my cats and the dogs without being asked too.
Another song that really, really gets me is How to save a life by The Fray.
http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/fray/howtosavealife.html
The night before Micah died, we resolved an argument that had kept us pretty much ignoring each other out of frustration for a few weeks. We talked it out and forgave each other. Even so, there’s this part of me that wishes I would have stayed up all night with him, bc maybe then he’d have survived. From checking his laptop after he passed away, I saw that he was still active around 7 am on Thursday, January 7, 2010. He passed away sometime after that. I don’t know how long rigor mortis takes to settle in, but when I got home and found him it was around 11:30 pm that night. I don’t blame myself for his death, but I wish I’d have stayed up with him. Maybe then my best friend would still be alive.
Sorry for the Teal Deer ya’ll. It’s been a while since I thought this much about him, and part of me feels bad for that. Like, he was the best friend I ever had, and I don’t think about him that much. I know that’s not rational, but fuck. By FSM, I miss the living fuck out my lil buddy.