Thursday, April 19, 2018

You're Not as Rapey as You Think

The first thing I want to say is that I was asked to write this post, asked to add my voice to a discussion--no, that's wrong. This isn't a discussion. But what is it? A denormalization? Vilification? Witch-hunt? Yes, I think witch-hunt, the real live kind like the Salem Witch Trials during which 20 people were killed as a result of mass hysteria based on absolutely nothing, is what this is--about sexual abuse.

The second thing I want to say is I'm not sure which voice of mine I want to employ. Do I want to speak as a mother of sons who, one, need to know with no uncertainty how to not commit sexual abuse but who, two, also need to know how to escape the quagmire that is a false allegation of it? Do I want to speak as a teacher who feels a responsibility to guide her students through "real life" just as much as the obstacle course of rhetorical devices they have to navigate to succeed in AP? Do I want to speak merely as a woman since women are the loudest voice in this witch-hunt I'm about to oppose? Or do I want to speak as a rape victim who has endured actual sexual abuse and not the imaginary kind of which I'm about to speak?

You know what? I wear a shitload of hats, and this witch-hunt makes me want to wear every single one.

***

A Crash Course Alongside a Clarification

When I was asked to write this post, what I was actually asked to write about was a specific allegation of sexual abuse. Cameron Boucher, singer of Sorority Noise, a band known for promoting queer culture, respecting women and minorities, and advocating for mental health was "outed" for raping a girl five years ago, not by the girl, but by the girl's friend. The girl's friend wrote, in a Facebook post, "fuck SN and OG [Old Gray, another one of Cam's bands] because CB is a fucking scumbag who raped a friend of mine." The post was deleted, but not before people saw it, and it became a really big thing. Soon after, Cam released a statement on Twitter in which he denies the allegations, and not long after that, the "rape victim" released a statement of her own.

I'm hoping you're taking the time to read these links, especially since they're super short, but if you're not, here's the situation super condensed:

"[W]e started having consensual sexual interaction. I fell asleep a little while later and I woke up to him touching me. When I finally woke up we started engaging in sex again, but my back was turned and he penetrated me without my consent, knowledge, or a condom. I immediately felt like something was wrong but I compartmentalized it for a month or so until I realized it was, in fact, rape...I wonder sometimes if Cam even remembers it.

"Essentially, this isn't as cut-and-dry as you want it to be. Cam is charming, very sweet, and he makes me forget a lot of the time that he is capable of such disgusting behavior -- but he DID do it. He did rape me. I've just chosen not to call him out."

Largely comprised of see-only-in-black-and-white, there-is-no-gray, someone-is-a-monster-or-not-a-monster people with no tolerance of any kind, the emo/indie scene has pretty much denounced Cam and Sorority Noise, who canceled their tour as soon as the allegations came out, just as it has several other key people amidst other recent allegations of sexual abuse (some rightfully so, some not so much).

***

For your viewing displeasure, a sample of tweets about the alleged abuse:

"fuck sorority noise, fuck turnover, fuck pinegrove, fuck moose blood, fuck neck deep, fuck brand new, fuck every single rapist, predator, and abuser that lurk in this scene"

"i let cam boucher and the whole of sorority noise influence my life for 4 years i want to throw the fuck up"

"Cutie at the gig is wearing a sorority noise shirt, is it my responsibility to tell them, do they know, is it ignorance, or the ultimate red flag"

"*looks at watch* oh i guess it's time to get rid of my sorority noise + old gray records"

"Poor Cam THE FUCKING RAPIST. Boy sorority noise fans are the fucking worst. 'Im not trying to victim blame' *proceeds the blame the victim*"

***

And a particularly bothersome thread:
(FYI, the initial tweet isn't the bothersome part. It's the responses that follow.)

It be okay to have sex the next morning specially after you've engaged in sexual behavior that morning already, listen I believe this girl thinks she was raped buy you don't have consensual sex with someone wake up and do sexual things with each other and he's a rapist? Gtfo

--Take you, and your misconceptions of how consent works and leave please

--Yeah that's not how it works

--that's insensitive af. If consent isn't EXPLICITLY given sex shouldn't occur.

--just because consent was given at one point doesn't mean it exists indefinitely

--No no no no no no no no no no no and no. Listen everytime you wanna smash you don't just stick it in you make sure it was consensual and if the other person wants protection you wrap ur willy MMKAY. Doesn't matter if u just banged u still check.

***

And so now here's where my issue, my dispute, my incredulity, my disgust, come in, and it's not just about Cam although his situation encapsulates it.

The whole world seems, as is demonstrated above, to have gone mad regarding sexual consent.

A few years ago, one of my students returned from an orientation at UF where she learned that no doesn't mean no anymore; yes means yes instead. These kids were taught that unless somebody says yes to every sexual interaction from kissing to intercourse to everything in between, the person has been raped.

I was recently having a discussion with a professor at a university, and we discussed this issue that I am not alone in perceiving as extremely problematic. I'm paraphrasing here, but what she said was something along the lines of how these kids who grow up in areas that are taught abstinence-only education and have never had any real discussions about sexual interactions or abuse get to college and are taught yes means yes (this is not UF. Yes means yes is taught all over the place) and the new-fangled definition of consent. They then go to college parties and/or get themselves into situations where they do sexual things they regret and/or feel guilty about (as people have throughout history) and think that they've been raped (unlike people throughout history). They don't realize that between holy-shit-I-really-want-to-fuck-this-person and oh-my-fucking-God-I-was-force-to-have-sex-against-my-will-despite-saying-no, there's a really big fucking range. Some things along that range qualify as sexual abuse, there's no disputing that, but some in no way, shape, or form belong in that space. A shitty sexual experience/a sexual experience someone regrets/a sexual experience someone really didn't want to have but never indicated as such--those things are not rape and to internalize it as such, ruining your own life and somebody else's, is such a horror, I can't possibly underscore the severity of the horror story that it is.

Those responses to that tweet that I pasted above--those are terribly misguided ideas about what is and what is not rape. The guy who initially posted has it right. If you've consented to have sex with someone, and this girl obviously did the first time around, and you're sleeping in that person's bed after just having had sex, and that person starts to touch you, that is not rape (it's actually kind of the norm when people are really into each other). Now, if you wake up and say no in any way and the person proceeds to put his penis inside of you, then yes, rape territory is now a place that you're in. But without a no? After you've just had sex? No, sir. Not rape at all.

To those people who tweeted replies about how consent works, I don't even know what to say. I don't know how to approach people so misguided about normal sexual interactions and human behavior and make them see what's so wrong--so infuriating, so dangerous, so sad--with their perception.

Another thing I don't know is how to make people see is how hurtful, how belittling this muddling of real rape/sexual assault and this perceived version of it is to people, like me, who are victims of actual rape and/or sexual assault. To be drugged or too drunk to consent/to be dragged into an empty building or alley or bush in the desert/to have your house broken into and a strange man violate you/to be held at knife- or gunpoint and forced to engage in sexual acts/to be tied up with an electrical cord and pushed around Mark McDonald's bedroom like a pinball by TP, JD, and JL until you agree to sleep with one/to actually be forced into any sexual situation that you don't want to be in and then to be told that someone who had just consented to have sex with someone, fell asleep, woke up to touching she didn't say no to and then had sex with that person again was raped just like you...well, that's one of the most wretched things I've encountered in my life. 

Sunday, April 1, 2018

Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice

You know how sometimes several unrelated things that all happen right around the same time turn out to actually be related, leading to a realization or observation of sorts? Like, picture a map, and on the map are a bunch of roads, parallel at first, but then one curves a little here, and another curves a little there, and another one maybe just gradually drifts east while another one sharply turns west. In the end, even though each road started in a different place, they all eventually meet. Well, that map is pretty much a visual representation of my life over the past couple weeks.

The Map

1. Little Asian Avenue

A couple weeks ago, I went out with a guy who I ended up not liking at all. I won't talk about how he barely looked anything like his pictures on Bumble since that's not relevant to this post or how he thought he was way cuter and more interesting than he was because that's not relevant, either. I won't even mention that he lives in Brooklyn and doesn't know who Adam Yauch is. What I'll talk about instead is how, by the end of the night--and it was a short night; we met spur of the moment at 9:00 on a school night, and I had one drink while he ate and didn't drink--despite my not doing anything to indicate it was all right, he plopped himself down next to me on my side of the table, put his hand on my ass, and actually squeezed it like a roll of Charmin, and then after I firmly moved it, he put it on my leg while trying to convince me to go back to his hotel room with him. I'll also tell you about how, once I assured him I most definitely would not be going back to his hotel room with him, he convinced me to walk around a little, and despite my not only not showing any interest in him but actually rebuffing him repeatedly, he grabbed my hand, pulled me into him, and kissed me, and even though I thought he was annoying and ridiculous and lamented having driven all the way to Sawgrass Mills to meet him, I kissed him back because I didn't know how to not.

2. Redneck Road

Recently I was hit on by a man I used to know when I was somewhere with both him and his wife. When I was leaving the place where we both were--does this sound vague? I hope so because it's totally supposed to--Man I Used to Know made a totally out of nowhere comment about my being horny and alone (!) and offered to sext with me--okay, can we just stop the conversation for a minute and talk about the use of the word "sext" in that offer? Who uses the word sext in that kind of context? Is sexting something people actually offer to do? Because in my experience, it's something that just naturally happens; but I digress. As I drove away, I was like, that was weird, but since I had a date to get to, which you'll hear about soon when we arrive on Cutie Pie Court, I forgot about it by the time I turned the corner. Later, though, during my date, I picked up my phone and glanced at the screen to see that Man I Used to Know had sent me three messages:

39m ago It was great seeing you if you ever wanna sext [number omitted for obvious purposes]

27m ago Like now lol I'm just board [sic] everybody left

2m ago What's your #?

And then later

3:42 AM Now I feel stupid

to which I finally responded

3:58 AM Don't feel stupid. I know you were just drunk.

I was polite and tried to make things less uncomfortable because I don't know how to not.

3. Cutie Pie Court

While I was on my post-party date with the first guy to make my heart pitter and patter in almost a year, the subject of cheating came up. Having both cheated and been cheated on, he'd decided that being cheated on was worse for a man than a woman. I thought about it, and if that were true, I said, it was only because society normalizes a man's cheating but scorns a woman's. I'm not saying society deems it okay for a man to cheat, but it's much more acceptable and rationalizations are made.

She was all over him; he couldn't resist

He was drunk (the excuse High School Friend messaged at 6:31 PM the day following the solicitations when he said, You were absolutely right I was drunk last night I hope I didn't offend you in any way I've been told I'm a big flirt when I have been drinking it was great seeing you guys. A big flirt? Child, please.

It was just sex, it didn't mean anything

Because of this belief that guys are just these oversexed beings ruled by their penises while women are supposedly not of that ilk--they're not ruled by their penises, I'll give society that--when a man is cheated on, he takes it harder and questions his manhood whereas a woman is more likely to ascribe the just-like-a-fucking-man mentality to the situation. If, I told the guy I was on a date with, your assertion is true, this is the reason why.

I sort of had to agree because, based on personal experience, I couldn't exactly not.

Medical Student Circle

About two years ago, I dated a medical student for a little over a month. One day while we were in the middle of a conversation, he didn't text back, and since I didn't really care whether or not he stayed in my life, I never text him again, either. I can't say I was upset at all since for a medical student he was surprisingly dumb, but I did care that after a couple months, our relationship ended without so much as a word.

Well. Yesterday I got a text from an unknown number, and I'm sure you can see where this is headed. After almost two years--June of 2016 is the last time we talked--Medical Student wanted to see what I was up to and asked if I was "seeing any korean medical students these days" and if I "have an opening for that position to be filled."

Can you say what the fuck?

This guy, who pretty much ghosted me, called me after almost two years to see if I wanted to start something up? He was so busy with school, he said, that his garbage rotted to the point where his landlord asked if he had a dead body in his apartment. He was treated like a resident and didn't leave the hospital for two months. He was on station 24 hours a day seven days a week. He was an asshole who just disappeared in the middle of a conversation and never bothered contacting the girl he was seeing again--okay, that part was me, but it's true. He couldn't take a second to say, I'm too busy to have anything social going on, have a nice life? I mean, please.

Anyway.

When medical student asked me, "are we still friends?" I really wanted to tell him that no, we were absolutely not friends, but instead text, "We're friends," because I didn't know how to not.

The Place Where My Roads Converge

Well, first and foremost, I'm a chickenshit, and I'm a pussy, and I'm all sorts of things that aren't good. I let people do things--more specifically, men--that I don't want to let do things because I don't know how to not. When I was on Little Asian Avenue and that little Asian squeezed my butt like it was a stress ball, I should have pushed him out of the booth and left, but I was too embarrassed about causing a scene to do it; when the guy from Redneck Road apologized, I shouldn't have normalized his behavior, saying he was just drunk, because he wasn't just drunk. I've been drunk enough to pass out in my own vomit before yet never accidentally cheated on someone (any cheating I've ever done has been when I was one-hundred percent sober, I hate to admit). I should have told him it was a dick thing to do, and I didn't appreciate his soliciting me when his wife was less than a hundred feet away, but I felt uncomfortable and bitchy doing that, so I just let it go. When I was on Medical Student Circle yesterday, I should have told Medical Student I wanted nothing to do with him, but I didn't want to hurt his feelings. His two-year-after-the-action apology seemed so nice. On Cutie Pie Court, I probably shouldn't have had sex with a guy I'd just met two hours earlier, but that has nothing to do with this blog, so--but wait. It actually does. I initially wasn't going to have sex with him although I really wanted to, but then in the middle of saying no, I asked myself why I was saying no when I really wanted to say yes, and the only answer I came up with was that I shouldn't sleep with a guy I'd just met. But why should I not have? The answer is obvious: Because nice girls don't. Never mind the fact that I haven't been a nice girl for a really long time, I still feel the pressure to behave the way society tells nice girls they should, and that, people reading this post, is exactly where these roads converge.

I'm not the only chickenshit, and I'm not the only pussy, and I'm not the only girl who's all sorts of things that aren't good. So many of us are like that, the majority of us are like that, I'd even argue that to an extent, we're all like that because that's what society has taught. We normalize men's behavior, and I swear this blog isn't about bashing men because what I'm really saying is that we also normalize our behavior of allowing men's behavior to happen. Maybe if we would--I, but also, you--toughen the fuck up, say what we really want to say, and do what we really want to do, all this normalized, shitty behavior would stop being the norm.

(We also could end up having surprisingly good sex, but unlike me, this post doesn't go all the way; we've come as far as that thought's going to go.)