I was at Dewey’s to watch the federal election results this Monday. I was sitting with a few friends and my partner, a couple drinks deep, when a former classmate (a male classmate) came up to me and started talking to me (at me?) about the Liberal party. I like politics, so I listened to what he had to say. But I started to get the feeling that That Thing was starting to happen: that thing where you’re just being friendly with someone (that someone usually being an entitled white dude), and they assume you’re being flirty. Life is hard.
When he turned to leave, he turned in to say goodbye. Next thing I know, he leans in to try and kiss my cheek in a weird, chivalrous way. I react so viscerally that I almost dumped my beer in my lap.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” I shrieked, my voice reaching octaves I didn’t know it could reach. “I DON’T WANT YOU TO KISS MY FACE.”
“Oh. I… I’m so sorry,” he muttered. He looked so shocked. I felt rude, but so violated.
Is this what Marcus is talking about when she says that “women must resist self-defeating notions of polite feminine speech as well as develop physical self-defence tactics?” As a someone who tries to play a wholly supportive role to survivors of sexual assault, I usually am wary of talking about self-defence in the context of sexual assault. But this week, through these class readings, I’ve learned they have some merit.
When I was considering Marcus’ line that rape “a process to be analyzed and undermined as it occurs,” this event came to mind. In this moment, though I felt rude and violated, some part of me felt empowered, like maybe I could have stopped this “well-intentioned” guy from thinking it’s okay to touch people without them being okay with it. I don't think what I did was violent, but is somewhat violently interrupted what he was doing.
However, I have also had experiences where I wasn’t able to react quickly, and I know too many other people who have felt the same. And that’s okay — we did what we had to do in that moment to feel safe. I don’t think Marcus would ever contend that all women are compelled to fight back, and I certainly would never suggest that. But I do think that in seemingly small moments like this, we can work towards scaring the shit out of rape culture.
I honestly applauded, alone on my couch, after reading this post. I absolutely commend you for having the courage to not only stand your ground, but to do so loudly, unwaveringly, and in a public space. I think this is in fact what Marcus was talking about, and is making me see her essay in a different light. Not only did you use this moment to challenge the rape culture that informed your acquaintance his invasion of your space was not only acceptable, but desired, you also challenged the same culture that informs women not to make a public scene, and not to embarrass or bring attention to men when they’re acting like entitled fools.
ReplyDeleteWhat I’m still stuck on, is how although this act is important, and likely the very most you could have done in the situation, it can’t completely dismantle that rape script, because of the way women’s emotions are interpreted. I can only imagine that that man, who was in the wrong and deserved your reaction toward him, leaving that space and thinking “wow, that woman overreacted,” or, “how is she ever going find someone with that attitude?” The fact remains that no matter how we act or react, the blame for that situation still falls on our shoulders. If you had let him kiss you, you would be performing the submissive script that Marcus warns against. But if you verbally defend yourself as you did, others read the scenario as a “hysterical” woman overreacting, which simply is not a sanctioned behaviour.
All that being said, I still think what you did was courageous and badass, and I hope I allow myself to take up space the way you did next time I (inevitably) find myself in a similar situation.
Thanks for the comment, Amy!
DeleteAnd I agree with your second paragraph. Some more context: after I did what I did, I could tell the people around me thought I overreacted a little. After reading the looks on their faces, it was hard to not feel like I was rude or too extreme for telling him to leave me alone.
It's such a nasty bind that we find ourselves in. We might act in retaliation, and find ourselves being criticized for overreacting, or we might not act as violently, and possibly regret staying quiet (especially in a time where we're saturated with tips to prevent sexual violence, and sexual violence isn't considered legitimate unless we "fight back").