A normalized culture of violence against women

 

During my first trip to Taipei, Taiwan, as I marveled at the clean and efficient metro system and wandered around the city, something felt different. I’m used to attracting attention as a traveler when I go abroad, usually because I’m taller than average and no one can pinpoint my exact “ethnicity.” Most people (especially Germans) seem to think that staring long enough will reveal the answer on my forehead. harassment

I anticipated this in Taiwan, but I didn’t have that same feeling of being “watched” on this trip. No one noticed me, at all, and I shared this observation with a friend of a friend who is from Taipei but has also traveled and lived outside of the country.

“I can walk around late at night here with no problems. I always feel safe, no matter what time it is.” Any time of night? In such a large city? Indeed, I learned. Taiwan is famous for its “night markets,” small sections of streets filled with food and clothing vendors open until late into the night. Both locals and visitors flock to the vendors to indulge in fried, skewered, and steamed Taiwanese specialties as they bargain over other goods along narrow alleyways.

My friend mentioned that sexual harassment in the U.S, including “catcalling,” is pretty notorious. Everyone knows it happens.

When I recounted how often I opt for taking a cab as opposed to taking the subway late at night, or how I, without fail, attract attention of men on the street when I leave my home, I got very angry.

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It seems unfair. Unfair that as a woman in a modernized country, I  worry about how I look, how I dress, what I say (or don’t say) because it could put me in danger. Unfair that boys are not (always) taught from a young age to treat women as humans but as prizes to be “gotten.” Instead, a girl is told to dress respectably and then grows up to second guess her outfit before stuffing mace into her clutch, “just in case.”

Why is sexual harassment and violence against women such a normalized instance of American culture?

We’ve come to accept the mindset so much that government agencies have now adopted it unconsciously. In a seemingly well-intentioned campaign to warn women about fetal alcohol syndrome, the CDC shamed women into thinking that their alcohol use has some unlikely, even implausible, risks.

Risks of drinking for any woman include “sexually transmitted diseases,” “injuries/violence,” and “unintended pregnancy.” Huh? I thought sex caused pregnancy and STDs, not binge drinking (which, of course, isn’t a healthy habit to develop anyway).

The idea that women, solely, are at fault for the violence that others commit was conveyed during the recent Zika virus scare. (Go here for a NY Times article by a Brazilian woman who articulates this point much better than I can.) Several South American countries have advised women, in an attempt to prevent birth defects, to avoid “getting pregnant.”

Something’s off about that advice: it neglects to mention a man’s role in causing pregnancy.  It isn’t as if women are spontaneously impregnating themselves; men are impregnating women. However, there hasn’t been a national call from Brazil for all men to remain abstinent for 2 years. That would be ludicrous, right?

If South American countries, many of which are predominantly Catholic, had health care systems that provided women with consistent and safe birth control options, this advice wouldn’t be so far fetched. However, birth control can be difficult to come by in many other countries and the stigma associated with these methods stems from the heavy religiously influenced background of South American countries.

Reversing this incredibly biased perspective on women starts with removing the stigma around women and sexual health. This begins with parents having open conversations with their children. It continues when men avoid shaming women for their bodies and sexual health. And it looks like women and men treating each other equally in society and governments doing the same.

(UPDATE: The CDC has taken down the infographic after criticism and Anne Schuchat, the principal deputy director of the CDC, defended the agency’s intentions, told The New York Times, “we weren’t as clear as we had hoped to be.”)

 

Microagressions and privilege: did that really just happen?

 

I love to travel. Discovering new places both domestically and abroad has opened my eyes to different aspects of the human experience I would have otherwise missed had I never left my comfort zone. Besides the superficial benefits of getting to see famous landmarks and enjoy great food, meeting new people and gleaning their perspectives on life make for an enriching experience.

As a female traveler, there have often been instances where I had to take extra precautions or alter my travel plans in order to safely enjoy my adventures. In the U.S, this happens much less often than abroad, but traveling domestically always brings about the unwanted attention of those who can’t conceive why women would consider traveling alone.

On a recent trip to Pittsburgh, I experienced a typical sexist remark from a (drunk) football fan who probably thought paying me a “compliment” would boost my self esteem. (Note that this remark came during the brief 5 minutes out of the weekend where I was alone- we’ll save that for another post). Surprisingly, this instance of misogyny wasn’t the most disturbing expression of white male privilege that I witnessed while in the Steel City.

When I travel in the U.S or abroad, people are usually perplexed and intrigued by the color of my skin. In most cases, I’m privileged enough to escape any overt discrimination and, outside of the occasional catcalls from men, I get to really enjoy the cities that I visit because I avoid most overt negative attention. During this trip, though, there were a number of subtle racial microagressions that my travel companion and I experienced that seemed to compound as the trip wore on.

Seemingly insignificant slights at JFK during the check-in and security process hadn’t deterred my vacation mood. I did notice, however, the constant glares in downtown Pittsburgh, a city not necessarily known for welcoming diversity. Even though I was overjoyed at the constant stream of black and gold at every corner, the tension of feeling like “outsiders” when walking around the city crept into consciousness often enough.

At Heinz field, as the Steelers game neared the end of the first half, my partner ventured out of our row, as several other people had already done during the game. On his way out, he heard the person sitting in the aisle seat mumble “you should go around next time.” Not thinking much of it, he returned to the row and the man remained seated. “Pardon me, sir I need to get to my seat.” The man remained seated and asked him, again, to walk around (we were sitting much closer to one side than the other). After a back and forth exchange that ended with the older white man begrudgingly stepping to the side, the element of this exchange that stuck out was the look of unwarranted”fear and anger” from the man.

He wore no Steelers gear, just a camouflaged jacket that’s often used by serious game hunters. He couldn’t have been younger that 75, and since so many other (white) fans had already left and come back to their seats, his reaction at this particular moment seemed bizarre.

If you’ve ever been to a football game, you understand that part of the experience is being squeezed into a plastic seat among thousands of other fans, thus having to let others in and out of your row whenever they want. Sure, this can be slightly annoying, but you get over it after a while if you have the slightest bit of empathy.

I find something very fascinating about this man’s reaction to having to stand up and let someone through the row. As a Steelers fan, this man supports a team that is comprised of 80% African-American players and is 1 of 5 NFL teams that boast a black head coach. Our camouflaged “friend” supports black players each and every week, yet his experiences with people of color  on a personal level suggest that he believes in deep seated racist ideologies.

The Problem with Calling it Out

 Microaggressions are naturally very difficult to explain or rationalize. Anyone who is unaware of cycles of oppression or discrimination would find it difficult to understand the humiliation of racial slights.

Let’s say that in a parallel universe, we had called out this man for his overtly racist comments and actions. Let’s say we, rationally, had confronted him in a calm manner and mentioned that he is now in 2015 and legal segregation is, in fact, over and done. The myths he was probably fed about black people were indeed false and miscegenation is no longer a crime. An ideal situation would dictate that he and his friends would have offered a prompt and sincere apology.

Anyone who has experienced a microaggression or any racial discrimination understands that this is out of the question for many reasons. This kind of peaceful outcome would require:

• the white person to acknowledge his racist perspective

No one in the 21st century wants to be outwardly labelled as a racist. Even people who interact very rarely with people of color, and have little insight into what the experience is like, would balk at the idea of associating themselves with members of the KKK. Americans typically summon an image of white hoods on horseback when you mention the word “racism” because there haven’t been many opportunities to discuss race and racism openly on a national level before. If anything, Barack Obama’s election made it easier for white Americans to remove the notion of racism from their consciousness. If you had voted for him, there’s no way you could be considered racist. Even if you didn’t vote for him, it’s because you disagreed with his policies. Even if you doubted his American citizenship, it was because his dad was Kenyan.

• Americans to acknowledge that racism still exists.

America seems like a colorblind society to anyone chooses to ignore the institutional and structural discriminatory practices of the U.S government. The U.S is a free country “for all” if you’re under the impression that all people acquired the right to vote in 1870. Politicians who are now in power are the sons (and daughters) of former politicians/citizens who supported segregation. They are the children who grew up with black nannies and images of black “comedians” and entertainers who showcased plastered smiles on their faces. Many of these politicians haven’t adapted to an America where black men and women hold equal power. This adaptation requires a huge ideological change before true equality can even be considered a possibility in the U.S.

• a shift in the power structure between people of color and whites

Very similarly, this can only happen when the overused tropes of people of color in the media are no longer the only archetypes that represent black and brown men and women. Outdated archetypes, like the black athlete or the aggressive black woman make it acceptable, in the minds of whites, to carry those stereotypes over to reality. Unless this unbalanced structure is broken down, and the stereotypes are seen as just that, encounters on a personal level like the one at the stadium will continue to occur everyday for people of color.