Tag: Men

Making Sexual Assault Everyone’s Problem

The past few weeks have been overwhelming for many, especially for those of us who are sexual assault survivors. It’s easy to get caught up in the enormity of the problem – sexual assault happening at all levels of our society, no arena exempt.

And meanwhile, I think it’s important to credit those responsible for the increase in coverage and dialogue:

This moment is brought to you by the power of survivors.

To be sure, survivors are in different places in their journeys. Some are still struggling to understand that what was done to them was wrong; others are still finding the words to tell themselves, their diaries, their partners, and their friends. Others have been speaking out, fighting back against the shame of abuse for years – some for decades, including at consciousness raising groups, speak outs, rape crisis centers, and public protests like Take Back the Night rallies and marches.

As a movement, though, we have stopped short of identifying those who did violence to us.

Right now we are witnessing the incredible power of people speaking out. We know that one person speaking out frees others from shame, encouraging others to also speak out. And meanwhile there is a particular power gained when people speak out and name those who have harmed us. We know that it is incredibly rare for a perpetrator to have only one victim. So when one person speaks out, they not only free others to do so in general, but also embolden others hurt by that very same person to also name the harm done.

This takes working against the socialization many of us have received to be nice and not hurt others – even when we are being hurt ourselves. It calls for us to work against the grooming that person did to ensure we would stay quiet. It makes us confront the (strong) possibility of people dismissing us, minimizing or disbelieving what we have endured, and further violence – whether hateful language or physical harm.

These and more are all understandable reasons to not speak out. This is why Take Back the Night was so profound. Take Back the Night represented huge communities of women naming that what they experienced was not an individual shame, but a widespread social problem. It is no small act when young people and adults of all genders claim that title of “survivor” in our violence prevention and self-defense classes. I am honored to share the journey with others as they realize, truly, that it was not their fault, and all of the powerful things they did to survive.

However, I can’t help but notice that today we have massive numbers of identified “survivors,” and incredibly small numbers of accused.

This invariably has the effect of making sexual violence seem like a women’s issue, or an individual survivor’s issue, instead of the community problem that it truly is. This mindset discourages us from placing the blame for violence where it belongs – on the perpetrators. And we must focus on community change if we want to understand how to prevent future instances of violence.

This is exactly what some survivors are doing when they name those who harmed them– they are leading our movement forward. This means claiming our stories as our own. It means saying with authority: I know my own life. I have a right to speak. It means no longer protecting those who have hurt us. It means recognizing that there is no statute of limitations on our truth.

I find this inspiring, and I can’t wait for the next chapter that this opens up for us as we acknowledge exactly how rampant sexual violence is in our society and that we all have a responsibility for preventing it.

On Saying “No”: #YesAllWomen

We’ve known for years that the fear of further violence influences one’s ability to say “no” when something is unwanted.

Oftentimes, girls, women and others* are socialized to shrug, smile and indirectly express displeasure, hoping that the other person will get the idea. And oftentimes they do – the fact is that 96% of men see a boundary or lack of interest – however it is expressed – and will back off.

Yet, it’s the 4% of men who do assault women1 that reinforce the socialization that we shouldn’t be too out there. Men like Elliott Rodger, who recently issued a misogynist rant and then went on a murder spree that targeted a sorority house on campus, reinforce the concept that women are at risk when they reject men, however nicely. Men like Chris Plaskon, who recently murdered a girl who declined his offer to go to prom, reinforce the idea that maybe it’s better to be evasive and indirect.

These incidents are considered novel in today’s time, made bigger by the widespread reach of the internet and news. However, how many rapes in the community are necessary before women rethink going out at night alone? How many episodes of domestic violence do we need to hear about before we start thinking that we ought to be careful about letting him down gently instead of being straightforward?

At a certain point, violence isn’t even necessary. The threat of violence creates a change in behavior – girls and women would rather say “yes” than be called a b*tch, they choose their clothing based on how it will be perceived, and they don’t even identify violations anymore. A recent study shows that young girls are unlikely to identify sexual harassment and sexual assault as violations because they accept it as “normal.”

In this context, I see a greater need than ever for redefining social norms like we do in our school classes where we educate boys and girls about issues of consent, bystander intervention and boundary-setting. I also see how deeply we need a spectrum of self-defense – to help us understand our boundaries, to redefine what is okay and not okay for us and to be able to communicate that and protect ourselves when those boundaries are not respected. Quite simply, all forms of violence prevention – individual and community, men and women – are necessary to create safer communities.

If you agree, please sign up for a class or get more involved.

* This article focuses on heterosexual situations and gender norms, because of these recent events. Other articles speak more about violence against men, LGBT people and gender-nonconforming individuals.

1. Lisak & Miller, 2002.

Not Quite Enough: White House Task Force to Protect Students from Sexual Assault

Recently, the White House Task Force to Protect Students from Sexual Assault announced a series of actions to: (1) identify the scope of the problem on college campuses, (2) help prevent campus sexual assault, (3) help schools respond effectively when a student is assaulted, and (4) improve, and make more transparent, the federal government’s enforcement efforts.

These are all fantastic steps, and a huge growth in efforts and attention after several courageous survivors exposed the gross neglect and response to sexual assault on college campuses.

So, what is missing? Women. All of the prevention efforts are focused on bystander education and men’s intervention.

This is great, and all of us in the violence prevention arena agree that it takes men and women working together to end the cycle of violence. The vast majority of men are good. Most people want to help, and just need to learn how. Changing social norms through education about consent and bystander education is something IMPACT does and collaborates with others in the community to do as well.

However, research has shown that traditional gender role norms contribute to a culture that permits sexual violence. And yet, this important effort to end sexual violence is promoting an approach that does just that. Instead of men as perpetrators, it attempts to replace that with men as protectors and interveners. In both scenarios, women are still cast as victims without agency, with men in control.

As our colleague Martha Thompson at Impact Chicago writes, “The message of the White House Task Force that women should focus their attention on awareness of risks and avoiding danger because only men can stop another man from rape and sexual assault is an obsolete message.”

Those of us who work with survivors know of the incredible strength they have. It takes strength to come forward and report. It takes strength to break patterns; to risk losing one’s social status or job; to jeopardize relationships with family and friends; it takes strength to tell complete strangers some of the worst moments of your life.

Women and others targeted for sexual violence have an incredible amount of strength. That strength can be used for preventing violence as well. Women are also able to act as active bystanders. And research repeatedly shows that resistance is effective in reducing the likelihood of an assault being completed, and that resistance does not “make a situation worse.”

We need to examine prevention efforts to be sure they don’t contain echoes of the same gender norms that create gender-based violence in the first place. I greatly appreciate the avoidance of victim-blaming in the White House report, but excluding women entirely is not the answer. Instead, we need to engage women and others targeted for violence in prevention efforts that do not buy into oppression.

It is crucial that we, as a society, develop a comprehensive solution to ending sexual assault – one that includes all genders and one that emphasizes community change as well as individual agency.

Ending Violence, Achieving Justice

Today, IMPACT is participating in One Billion Rising, a global movement to speak out against violence against women. Below are the statements Alena is making outside and inside the Capitol.

What a powerful day to be speaking with so many others across the world about violence against women!

The reality is that prevention efforts aimed at keeping women and others who experience violence safe is most frequently packaged in language that blames victims and perpetuates patriarchy and other systems of oppression. Told to not drink, not wear that skirt, not go out at night, to that neighborhood – as if our actions alone can prevent sexual assault.

Individual action might work if violence were the only issue. If violence against women were the only issue, maybe-

However, at IMPACT, we find it important to call out violence for what it is: a tool of oppression. When we recognize violence as a tool of oppression, that means that we MUST come together as a community. Individual avoidance or action is not enough.

It means that we must recognize violence against women is not the only issue that needs addressing. We must address racism, classism, xenophobia, ableism, homophobia, transphobia… all of the factors that we know put individuals in our community at greater risk for violence. It means we must acknowledge that patriarchy hurts not just women, but also our boys and men who are victimized at home or hurt because how they act or dress does not fit into stereotypes of traditional masculinity.

I’m proud to be a part of a community that has so many quality agencies working on these issues. When people need to reach out about sexual violence and/or domestic violence, Solace and Esperanza are there. Increasingly, medical teams throughout the city know how to respond to and compassionately invite disclosure about domestic violence. At IMPACT, we work to provide strategies to both prevent violence in our communities and help survivors heal and feel safer in their daily lives and relationships.

All of these are ways to develop individual and community safety and resilience. Meanwhile, if we are to really develop safer communities, we must consider issues from immigration reform to access to public bathrooms for transgender people and others. We need to investigate every issue that arises and consider: does it have implications for whether our communities are safer?

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We need a solution to violence that does not sell us the prospect of safety packaged in language that blames victims and perpetuates systems of oppression.

We are told to stand up for ourselves, yet many of us already know the risk inherent in that “solution.”

Instead of being supported by the judicial system like George Zimmerman was when he felt needlessly threatened by a young black boy, women, people of color and LGBT people regularly go to prison for defending themselves when faced with violence. Whether it is Marissa Alexander, a young black mother who stopped her abusive ex-husband from possibly killing her; or CeCe McDonald, a young transgender woman who defended herself when attacked in a transphobic and racist hate crime, people across the nation go to prison for “standing up for themselves.”

As long as our prevention efforts and judicial systems use bias as the basis for advice and decisions, we will not end violence and we will not achieve justice.

When Confronted with Road Rage, I Had a Paln

A few weeks ago when I was driving, I noticed a car get out of my way and then abruptly pull behind me. I was puzzled when he turned into the same parking lot as I did, parking nearby for the same business. I was unsettled enough by the turn of events that I delayed in the car, thinking I would let him go in first to avoid further trouble, even if it turned out to be just a coincidence.

After a few moments of not seeing him pass in the rearview mirror, I decided I didn’t want to be late and got out to go in. I was startled to see him watching me as I crossed to the business. Instead of getting out to go to a destination, the man started his car and slowly drove past, looking me over, and then drove away.

I went in, noticing my feelings of confusion, anger and worry, and considered asking someone at the front desk to keep a look out. I also reviewed what I knew about his car and his appearance, wondering if I could identify him if he came back – worst-case scenario – and did something to my car.

I had plans to be there for over an hour, and for the first few minutes, I was preoccupied as I decided what I wanted to do and worked out what I thought happened and why he went away.

This could be a story about fear and the dangers of driving these days. It isn’t though – for me, at least. For me, it’s a story with two important components.

  1. I had a plan. In fact, I had several plans. As events unfolded, I sifted through my plans and shifted them as I took in more information. Instead of feeling panicked, I was weighing my options.                                                                
  2. I’m a rather petite woman. More likely than not, I was not the person he was hoping to get into a verbal argument with and then hit. Undoubtedly, he’d had a bad day, if not a hard time for a while, and was looking for someone to take it out on. I wasn’t that target. If I was a man, things might have been different.

I love the small fact encompassed in Point #1: We cannot control the world around us and avoid every situation, but we can plan for when things happen.

Point #2 is more complex and sad for me. Violence against men is largely unacknowledged and minimized or misinterpreted (for example, calling a situation a “fight” instead of an “assault”). It is unfair for men to be expected to not only be able to defend themselves, but also the women and children in their lives with absolutely no training at all. 

Men are targeted because of being men just as women are targeted because they are women (as are LGBTQ individuals, older people, etc.)

We all deserve to have the assurance of having a plan, instead of having to depend on circumstance and not being an assailant’s “ideal target” in order to stay safe.

Sparring & Sports vs. Self-Defense

Many sports, at their root, undoubtedly were created to develop and practice physical skills that can also be used in real-life situations. The interesting piece is when we forget how to separate the game aspect of sports from the physical skills gained.

When I teach, I have the opportunity to work with a lot of young athletes, including martial artists, boxers and wrestlers. Their practice in sports often makes them better prepared to strategize and think about physical technique. What they’ve learned on the mat clearly comes out in IMPACT classes, from their enhanced body awareness to willingness to confront violence. It’s evident that they’ve already given a lot of thought to the topic of aggressors and power and domination.

So it’s interesting when I hear intermediate level women in martial arts say they could never defend themselves in real life and would just have to run from an assailant. I’m fascinated when I hear teen boys talk about drawing out an attacker and fooling them into striking first and howling that it’s a “cheap shot” when they see IMPACT students deliver groin strikes.

The physical skills we practice at IMPACT are remarkably similar to those learned in sports. However, at IMPACT, we always keep our eye on one thing: assailants are not looking for a good fight. They are looking for an easy target. And in that situation, there’s no such thing as fighting “fair.” It’s not about scoring a point. It’s about changing the assailant’s mind by yelling and showing you’re willing to defend yourself.

Why are strikes below the belt illegal moves in all sporting arenas? Because they END the fight! There’s no match after that. He’s not going to get up and rally to score another point. So, when fighting for sport, it makes sense that this is forbidden. However, in real life, if your life and safety or that of someone you love is at stake- go for the groin! It’s not about being fair; it’s not about complex strategy and drawing him out. Thankfully, it’s much simpler than that – at least physically.

This is what makes self-defense for the average person so easily attainable. It’s not complex. You don’t have to be in good shape. Find the courage to register for a class so that you know you could defend yourself without being overcome by socialization or fear. Practice the verbal skills that you’re more likely to need in real life. Then… bask in the knowledge that if necessary, you can defend yourself and your family and friends. 20 hours. It’s that simple.

The Effects of Fear & Violence: Mourning Trayvon

Trayvon Martin’s death, as well as the lack of charges brought against his killer, was horrific for many, but was not surprising.

Women often tell me of their rape aversion plans. They usually include: carrying their keys between their fingers, never going anywhere alone, watching their drinks, not wearing revealing clothes, not going out at night, etc. “Sometimes,” they wearily declare, “I just wish I were a man.” What we don’t usually talk about is the dangers men face, especially men of color.

Men typically are not told to restrict their behavior in these limiting and largely unproductive ways. They are not warned that they’re being reckless, or worse – provoking any violence they might encounter – if they don’t adhere to these rules.

Still, the concept of men as free from the effects of violence in our society is a deeply flawed one. When I teach about violence prevention in schools, teen boys often are resistant until they realize that I’m not just there to teach the girls. Then they express confusion and resentment as they describe learning to evade physical assault by aggressive men and boys, while simultaneously having to demonstrate they are not a threat to others.

A recent story with Donna Britt, mother and author of brothers (& me), on NPR discussed how she raised her boys. She and others are doing a great job of making public what they call “the talk” that African American parents give their boys when they make that transition from cute child to possible threat in the public eye.

This is an everyday reality for boys and men of color, and I’m glad that this is getting some media attention and acknowledgment. Yet, in a culture where we say there’s no way to predict violence, profiling is inevitable.

Soon the evening news will interview another neighbor who testifies the murderer next door “seemed so normal” and everyone will nod that there was no way anyone could have known. Then, everyone, including the police, will grasp at whatever they can– the latest mug shots, the characters from the last movie – to be able to predict the next act of violence. Because we don’t want to be caught off guard.

Safety is not worth this cost to our communities. There are ways of predicting violence – which means there are ways of preventing violence – that don’t include profiling random men of color and blaming victims. Why are we not exploring these?

In an entertainment culture, it is not popular to explore predictability. When there is a mystery, you can be sure that everyone will stay glued to his/her screens, anxious to keep track of the newest development. Meanwhile, this also ensures that sponsors’ advertisements will be watched while viewers eagerly await the next installment of the story.

Despite Gavin de Becker’s book, The Gift of Fear, being on the bestseller list when it first came out over a decade ago, reporters still choose to interview the clueless rather than interview his team that studies how intuition works and the precursors to violence. As a culture, we treat those who know ahead of time as mystical outliers, never pausing to study how it is that the average person could foresee such a thing.

Those who accurately predict violence use behavior as their indicators, not hoodies or race. Concepts like forced teaming (pretending there is an alliance between you that doesn’t exist), using charm and niceness, giving too many details, typecasting, loan sharking, giving an unsolicited promise and ignoring the word “no” are all accurate ways of predicting when someone is acting manipulatively and possibly dangerous. Of course, in order to give credence to these ways of predicting violence and danger, we would have to admit that most violence happens by people we know and/or includes an “interview” process, rather than being a random shooting or a man behind the bushes who says nothing before grabbing his victim.

To say that violence is predictable is not equal to blaming those of us who have experienced it in the past. It is empowering everyone to have more tools for the future so that we may live fuller lives and feel less fear. It is challenging our society to distinguish between paranoia, prejudice and real intuition.

Revealing Vulnerabilities

“It was so great to have men in this class – here I am, a 68-year-old woman, thinking I’m the one who’s got stuff to be worried about, but they are struggling with this stuff too.”

– 4-Hour Workshop Participant

Just as the student above describes, I love teaching mixed-gender and mixed-age classes because through seeing the different situations role-played in class, students learn just that:  we all have our challenges.

 

From a young age, many girls are still taught that they are more fragile or less able to do things than their male counterparts.  They eventually learn that they must watch their drinks, cannot go on walks alone, or that the road trip that their brother goes on is forbidden for them when they reach the same age.

 

For women growing up in this context, discovering that men are not impervious to threat and not invulnerable can be a revelation.  This discovery can have profound implications for our beliefs about our own vulnerability and ability to defend ourselves.

 

It’s the reason I believe our mixed gender classes are becoming more popular for men and for women.  Women, while learning to protect themselves, learn about the situations that men face.  Men, while learning to protect themselves, learn more about the depth to which violence affects most women’s lives.

 

If you’re a woman, consider taking a moment to talk with your friends, father/brothers, or boyfriend/husband.  Ask them if anyone has become fearful of them or aggressive with them – without any intentional provocation on their part – simply because they were men and viewed as potentially violent.  See if you can get them to honestly tell you about situations they’ve faced and the fear they felt.

 

If you’re a man, consider sharing these little-revealed vulnerabilities for the benefit of the women in your life.  Also, consider sharing with other men and younger generations that though you may deal with a situation quite capably that you still do feel fear and adrenaline, that you still experience that vulnerability.  Lifting the veil and acknowledging this helps everyone by normalizing the experience and letting others know that though it never goes away, there are ways to prepare.

More than a Few Good Men

Most men are good men. And the good men I know will tell you how sexual violence has affected their lives. Yes, some of them are survivors themselves. Yet, even the majority who are not survivors say that it affects them. They have friends who have confided their suffering at the hands of those who said they loved them. They become lovers of others who have experienced sexual assault and often bear witness to and help their partners work to put aside old scars. They have children to care for and worry about protecting from sexual violence.

Perhaps most notably, many men tell me about crossing the street to avoid scaring a woman who is walking alone. Others tell me about acting carefully when working late hours with a woman so as to not say anything that might intimidate her. Some men go out of their way to seem friendly and engaging to women while other men choose to almost ignore them. They use whatever strategy they think will minimize the threat she may feel: the threat that simply being a man carries in our society.

Women can tell you a list a mile long about what they do to prevent being a victim of sexual assault. It can range from carrying mace to how they dress to where they go at what hour and with whom. Yet as a woman, I don’t have to worry about scaring another human being the way men do.

I used to concentrate so much on men as potential perpetrators that I really didn’t acknowledge what many of them did to make me feel safe. Now that I carry that sense of safety inside me, I am able to truly appreciate how caring and connected the vast majority of men are.

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