Alright, so for someone who says she doesn't agree with left-wing feminism, I do talk about it a lot. It's not like it's a huge concern of mine. Treat me with the respect that you owe any human being, don't see me differently because I'm a white catholic woman, and we'll be cool. However, I'd just like to bring it up once more, in light of this delightful article I found:
http://mic.com/articles/95818/here-s-what-guys-are-actually-saying-when-they-harass-women-on-the-street?utm_source=policymicFB&utm_medium=main&utm_campaign=social
Ok, Identities.Mic. Here's what's wrong with your whole entire idea. The video, by buzzfeed, although slightly agressive, is hilarious. It shows men in a slightly subjugating light, but it does deal with a problem in a passive-agressive way that is widely seen as funny. Here's the thing though: it's a problem, yes, but I feel the same thing when I get cat-called as when a fly is buzzing around my head: slight annoyance with a tinge of uncomfortable.
The first time I got cat-called, I was still in Sudbury, I was maybe 13 years old, I was wearing my school skirt with a tight blouse tucked inside and I had high heel boots on. Understandably, I'd earned that whistle. The thing is, it unsettled me. Thirteen year old me, who had never gotten much attention despite the fact that I knew I was attractive, was flustered, flattered and wildly at lost as to what to do. So I kept walking. And that's what I still do. I keep walking when I get barked, whistled, yelled or honked at.
Every once in a while, though, there will be that one interaction that isn't quite so annoying. I was walking home from work once, and I passed a line of cars stopped at a red light. Two boys were in a black SUV, playing loud-bassed music and rocking sunglasses. The passenger turned down the music and stopped head-bobbing long enough to tell me (it is important to know that he was one lane over and did not have to yell it out to me, but rather speak it) that he found me pretty. I thanked him, he wished me a good day, and off he went. He did stick his head out the window and blew me kisses, at which point I laughed, rolled my eyes, and gave him a "what am I going to do with you" shake of the head, and then he disappeared. I never saw him again. I never saw him again. And tell you what, the only reason I've thought about him is because I needed to tell this story. He did not insult me, he did not degrade me, he did not devalue me. It was harmless.
I'm not saying it's not wrong. It is noise pollution, and it does take away some of my "precious time", but that is what living in society is all about: interaction. And honestly, I think that it says more about a man than about the perfectly innocent woman walking down the street when a man barks at her. Did you just compare your attraction to me as to one of an animal driven by wild instinct and who's attraction to bitches is only pushed by the fact that he needs to reproduce and pass his genes on? Excuse me, just let me jog after your car and follow you home!
No but seriously, for those of you who have read the article, they use expressions such as "victim", "subjugation" (which you'll notice I used earlier, in all ironism) and "harassment". They also mention that "Research has shown that male entitlement is linked with increased sexual harassment as well", with a convenient link to said research, who only mentions self-entitlement to lead to a proness to violent acts and being linked to sexism - NOT sexual harassment.
And as a girl who has actually been sexually harassed in a work environment, let me tell you that two seconds of admiration, crude as it can be, does not leave sequels unless you let it. Although it may be rude, it is not harassment. Let's all take the stick out of our rectums and realize that yes, if we follow the definition, word for word, it fits the bill, but that if we use the little bit of common sense that we should have, y'all are over-reaction.
Rant, out,
Vero.
No comments:
Post a Comment