Brief Thoughts on Aziz Ansari and What The Heck to Do...

A partial address regarding the #metoo movement but mostly an address regarding the Aziz Ansari articles posted just about everywhere right about now, sourced from this article, about a woman named "Grace":

AP: The Washington Examiner

It's important to teach women and girls to speak up. To say NO. To say what they want. To say YES enthusiastically when that is what they mean. The problem, however, is that we've been taught as girls and women that saying NO can mean more aggression, more pain, more fear. What do we say to the girl who is in the car with a boy at night driving on a deserted highway and he pulls over to rape her? If she says NO clearly and loudly - won't this bigger, stronger boy still do exactly what he meant to do and no one will be there to help? Will she be safer if she goes along, stays quiet, pretends to like it? It is problematic to assume that any time she says no she will be respected and heard. 

She won't. She won't. She won't.

Should we teach it? Yes. We must. 

The reason the Aziz Ansari story is so huge is because it touches on all these things. We want there to be black and white. We want there to be easy answers. We want to be able to simply teach our girls how to be mighty and imagine that will protect them from predators. 

If "Grace" had spoken up with a strong voice and said

NO. 

I hate this. 

Get away from me...

Would Ansari have stopped? 

I'm going to say likelihood is high that he would. He did when she was most clear. But what about those times when your no is not enough. When your pushing away is not enough? When you are alone and there is no one to hear you screaming? When the person you are with is not there to respect you or trying in any way to be a "good person"? And how do we teach girls what the heck to do? And how to know the difference?

I am publishing this here because I do not know the answers, but I am so so grateful that we as a society are finally having this conversation.

IT'S ABOUT TIME.

It is time.

It is time.

#metoo

#timesup

Sigh. Another Post About Modesty and Teenage Girls

So this blog is a response to this - which is viral amongst my Christian friends and many of my non-Christian friends who are mothers of boys. 

First of all, this mom is trying to lookout for the moral welfare of her boys.  If you haven't read the blog, it talks about how they go through their boys' Facebook friends on a semi-regular basis around the kitchen table and delete the teenage girls from their boys' friends lists who have posted selfies in their PJs that might be sexual.  Or not sexual, but bra-less.

I have several issues with this blog.

First of all, one of the first things I see when I go to this mom's page is a picture of her family at the beach.  All of her boys are wearing swim trunks and bare chests.

I have serious issues wish her saying that teenage girls can't post pictures of themselves without bras (but covered in PJs), but her boys are allowed to post pictures of themselves making muscles without shirts at the beach.  This is a huge double standard.  HUGE.

Second she is basically saying that these girls posting pictures of themselves in their pajamas makes it impossible or nearly impossible for her sons to continue to view them as respectable, equal human beings.

So - the message I'm getting from the post is:

1.  Girls don't have hormones and are completely unaffected by pictures of scantily clad men showing of their strength.

2.  Women hold a huge responsibility for their own objectification, dehumanization, and possible rape.

3.  Men can't be held responsible for continuing to view smart, interesting, incredible women as "women of character" if they post any pictures of themselves that could be construed as sexual.

Oy.

The prize of virginity in girls, the shaming of girls who love their bodies and who might be experimenting with sex...  Oh, Church...  this is why society is running from you as fast as their legs can carry them.

I know this mom has a good heart.  All of the women I know who posted this have beautiful hearts.  We want the very best for the teenagers in our lives.  And maybe these girls should think more highly of themselves than trying to get attention by posting these pictures.  Or maybe they are proud of their beauty.  Or maybe they're just experimenting with this stage in their lives and their raging hormones.  It doesn't matter why they're posting them.  What matters is that they are.  And that saying that these boys need to turn away in order to maintain respect for these girls is the wrong message.  These boys need to be taught that women have bodies.  Women have sexuality.  Women think about sex.  Women are sexual beings.  AND they deserve respect as equal partners in earthly stewardship.  AND they are capable of great and intellectual feats.  AND they sometimes wear bikinis - and this is not an excuse to see them as objects.

So girls - yes - think before you post.  Remember that people of all ages and types can and will see your pictures - and that the internet has an extremely long memory.  I think we would all do well to remember this.

And boys - if you don't like something a girl has posted because you feel like it makes her look less than beautiful or that it might attract the wrong sort of man's attention - tell her that you think her other pictures are more beautiful.  If it bothers you, look away.  Women love to be lovely.  Women are constantly asking if they are beautiful enough.  So look past the PJ bra-less pic and answer her question in the positive.  See the beauty in the girl - not the body for you to lust after.  It's not fair for females to have all the responsibility for your morality.

And moms - talk to your boys about sex.  Be frank and honest.  Talk to them about girls and their bodies and how they like to be beautiful.  Spill  your guts about your premarital sex and your ex-boyfriends and what it felt like to be dumped/objectified/wolf-whistled at. Talk to them about feelings and about sex-trafficking and talk to them about their responsibility to women.  I don't think much will be accomplished by deleting their Facebook friends who you say are really nice, smart girls - but a lot will be accomplished by your openness.

After reading many other responses to this particular piece, I found one that I thought said everything, but with so much more grace than mine.  Thought you might like to read that as well, so I linked it up here.

Oral Sex

I titled this "Oral Sex" because not only is that what this post is about, but I knew it would be eye-catching.  I also knew that when people typed it into Google hoping for some tips and tricks, they might just get this post instead, and gain a different sort of understanding.

I spent the past week at my parents' house, which gave me a rare opportunity to talk with my mom almost uninterrupted.

We talk via telephone often, but there are always chores or kids calling to me in the background, and my thoughts can get muddled.

We've become friends over these last several years, my mom and me.  It hasn't always been that way.  There was a lot of lost trust and argument and general dislike through the years... especially the teenage ones.  We have our differences now, but we've chosen the road of sorting them out over coffee, instead of estrangement, and I'm thankful.

This past week we got to talking about how things have changed since she was attending the public school system.

She told me about a movie that she watched on Lifetime that discussed oral sex in middle school, and how it is becoming so common - even at school.

I already knew this, unfortunately.

A school in our area ended up with separate lunch tables for boys and girls and banned recess because 11 - 13 year olds were using the time for, let's face it, blow-jobs.

For the girls, it didn't always feel like a choice.  Peer pressure was intense.  If you wanted a boyfriend, it was expected.  And when you're 12 or 13 and just slamming head-long into puberty, you desperately long for acceptance, especially by the opposite sex.  And the boys felt like - well - if he's getting it, then I deserve to have it too.  A dad even stood up at the parent meeting and announced that his son was just doing what he wished he could do at that age.

When I was in middle school I am certain this was happening, but it wasn't quite as common.  More common was groping in the hallway and during movies in the social studies classroom.

As a young girl I can't say that I enjoyed any of that, but I allowed it.

I didn't know what else to do.

I remember feeling incredible attraction to several different boys.  I remember wanting them to like me.  To choose me as their girlfriend.  To dance with me at the 8th Grade Dance.

I was a bit awkward, and so they didn't often choose me for for their girlfriend or their dance partner.  That would have been much too public an acceptance.  But they did grab my butt in the hallway.  They did touch my breasts in social studies class.  And so...  I thought... it seemed better than nothing.

At all ages, we women simply want to be thought beautiful, attractive, lovely. 

My daughter wears her dance costume covered in pink sequins and her pink hair bow and sparkly, strappy shoes and asks her daddy to dance with her.  Asks us to watch her put on a show.  Loves for us to delight in her beauty and personality.

We never really lose that.

It stays with us.  It just manifests in new ways.

We realize there is a great big world outside of our family and we'd like them to accept us too.  We want them to delight in us as we wished our parents would.  For some of us, our daddy's said yes to dancing.  Said yes to applauding our preschool shows.  For others, they turned away: ridiculed us, left our moms.  And for BOTH it is intensely difficult to navigate the pressures that lay before us when we hit middle school and are faced with boys who are riddled with hormones and educated by their peers and the pornographic media that is so readily available on the internet and all around us from the time we are born.

I don't blame the boys.  The media portrays sex as something they deserve in a dating relationship.  And it feels good... obviously.  Oral sex is "better" because it doesn't result in pregnancy.  It feels safer.  And it can be carried out under the lunch table or within a circle of your friends in the parking lot.

The thing is...  it's a really bad idea.  And without a serious committed relationship...  it's degrading.

First of all - oral sex can transmit the same diseases.  You can get them all, Ladies.  On the Lifetime program that my mom watched an STD infected so many girls there was a line stretching down the hallway outside the nurses office for treatment and testing.

But second, and really more importantly, this is about our dignity.

This is a huge loss for girls AND boys, and while boys shouldn't be asking for it, they're battling the urge to fit in, the screaming of their hormones AND the fact that YOU are allowing it.

If all the girls got together and said NO, then the boys would back down.

Sure, it would get ugly for a few days.  Maybe even a few weeks.  But girls need to stick together on things like this.  We are strong together.  You can take a stand at your school.

You're not a plaything or a cheap hooker.  You are a young woman of dignity.  You are beautiful and priceless and there will be a man someday who won't ask such things of you.  And those men will be much more common if you stand up for yourself today.  Should they get a clue about treating you like a princess?  HECK YES.  But as long as they aren't, it's up to us to tell them NO.  It's up to us to hold on to who we are and not give that away to a boy just because he asks, or pressures, or gets his friends to pressure.  Because after you give a guy a blow-job, you don't have a lot of other places to go, physically.  And he has already used you just to pleasure himself.  It's like masturbation with a doll.  You can't go places emotionally with a boy that you've already gone everywhere with physically.  If it happens, it's rare, and you've got to take a lot of steps backward to go forward.

Take it from a girl who's been there.  Who has felt the pressure and who has given in.  Who has been called "dirty" by someone she loved.  Who has tried everything to get a boy to stay - and they left anyway.  Guys respect you if you stand up to them.  If you use your smarts.  If you respect yourself.  It is okay, even today, even in our rape-driven, sex-on-the-first-date, Cosmo reading culture to look a boy (or man) in the eyes and say, "I'm not that kind of girl."  It doesn't matter how many times you've already given in.  You can change.  You can be bigger and better than you were.  You can be a leader and stand up for you and the other young women around around you.

You can walk away.

Bo on the Go. Fail.

My daughter is four years old.  One of her favorite television programs is Bo on the Go, a show about a young girl with a pet dragon who lives in a playground of a castle and has friend who is a wizard who appears whenever needed.  She also has blue hair.  And the show is all about moving, physical activity, dancing, and being healthy.  So I thought it was great.  And was really excited about it.  Until this episode:

Wait for it...

The episode is called Bo and the Friendly Flowers, and it made my heart sink into my stomach.

During their adventures, Bo and her dragon friend wander into a field of "Friendly Flowers".  They are so friendly.  They love to hug!  And so... they hug Bo and her dragon friend.

So sweet!

But then Bo wants the flower to stop hugging her.  To put her down.  To allow her to continue her travels.

But...

This flower is SO friendly and loves to hug SO much, that it won't let go of Bo.

There is much lightness made of this.

Her dragon friend is in the same predicament.

The wizard appears and tells her that in order to get the flowers to stop hugging, they must wiggle like jellyfish.  And eventually...the flowers let go.  Bo and the dragon run forward to their next destination with the flowers waving their arm-like leaves after them - longing for more and more hugging.

It's horrifying.

I never EVER want my daughter to think that friendly people hug you and never let go, even when you ask them to stop.

I never want my daughter to think that she needs to put up with any BS like that.  Ever.  I don't want it to be shown in a positive light - that friendliness is akin to abuse and that's okay as long as you are making the "friendly flower" feel happy.

I don't want her to feel like she needs to smile and allow ANYONE to do ANYTHING to her that makes her uncomfortable.  Period.

And it is NOT friendly to hug someone until they scream and have to wriggle free.  And once they are free, it is certainly not friendly to reach after them, to chase them for more.

My daughter and I had a conversation after this episode where we talked about those flowers and how they were not really friendly.

I don't know what I think about Bo now.

I'm not sure where the producers got the idea that this might be cute for little girls to see.

Because it's not.

What do you think? 

Silence means No.

I recently posted a blog from a friend on the R.J. Twitter feed about rape - and what exactly means "No."

We've heard "No means no."  But what about other things?

What about:  "I have a boyfriend."

What about:  "You're drunk."

What about:  "I'm not sure if I want to."

What about:  "You're hurting me."

What about:  silence.

It was the one that struck me most. 

When I was fourteen I had this boyfriend.

I didn't know what I was doing and he didn't either, but it was silence. 

I never said "no".  I never said anything.  I just... went away.  Or I was... just there. 

There are times when we don't know what to say.

Times when we are afraid that saying something will lose us someone, or something.  Something we think we can't afford to lose and so we say nothing.

We are silent. 

We allow whatever it is that is happening to happen and we think that because we were silent we aren't hurting anyone and we're keeping ourselves innocent.

We didn't agree to it.  It happened TO us.

And we are keeping the person doing it from getting upset, from leaving, from knowing that we don't know what the heck we're doing.  That we're really much too young or much too scared or much too lonely or much too blinded or whatever it is... silence...  it means "not ready".  It means "afraid."  It means "unsure".  It means "don't leave me."  It means "No."

Because doing something for someone because you think it's what will keep them around isn't doing it for "love".  It's doing it for obligation.  And that's a resounding NO. 

It doesn't have to be about sex.  It doesn't have to be called "rape".

It can be about him putting his arm around you too hard at the hockey game.

It can be about him making you do things you've never even heard of in the movie theatre.

It can be about sneaking around because he'll leave if you don't.

It can be about hurting yourself or other people to keep him.

It can be about hand holding or kissing or heavy petting or oral sex or elaborate touching or him watching you take your clothes off or asking you to write specific letters or send specific texts or take photographs you were embarrassed about taking.

Silence.

You can't speak.

You don't know what to say.

You're frozen.

It means




NO.

Extremities

About a week ago I finished reading the play Extremities by William Mastrosimone.  I was shocked to check out the copyright just now and find that it was written in 1982.  It is still extremely (pun not really intended) poignant.

The play is about rape.  Plain and simple.

The first ten to fifteen minutes of the piece plays out a scene in which a woman who has been going about her daily routine in her bathrobe and PJs is confronted by a man who walks into her house and asks for his friend, "Joe".  When she asks him to leave, he refuses, and attempts to rape her.

The scene is graphic and difficult to read.  I can't imagine watching it without feeling nauseous.

Marjorie, the woman, is eventually able to get Raul, the rapist, away from her by spraying him in the face with wasp spray.

She eventually turns the tables on Raul, by tying him up and putting him in the fireplace (it's not lit).

When her roommates come home (two other women), she tells the what happened.  Both want to call the police at first, but Raul has already told Marjorie when she threatens this that she has no case because he didn't actually rape her.  He's pretty vulgar about explaining why there's nothing she can do.  And he makes it clear that after he's released from the police station, he'll come after her again.

The roommates are sympathetic to Marjorie at first, but then begin to turn on her as she becomes more and more desperate to deal with Raul.  She suggests burying him in the yard (alive) so that he can feel what it was like when he smothered her with a pillow.  She suggests chopping him up, burning him.... and as she becomes more extreme and Raul becomes more pleading and pathetic (his face is now swelling from the wasp poison and he is evidently blinded), the roommates turn on Marjorie.

While she is out of the room, Raul tells one roommate that Marjorie is sleeping with her boyfriend (a lie).  He knows everyone's name - he's been going through their mail for weeks.

He manages to gain sympathy from both roommates - they end up getting him medicine at the drugstore, feeding him and giving him a drink.

In the end, Patricia, the roommate who arrives home last gives this monologue to Marjorie, her supposed friend:

"You parade around this house like it was a centerfold.  A man enters the room and you go all statuesque.  How you cross your leg at just the right moment - how you butterfly through a room - You're not happy until youve got every man in the room begging for it.  And this one did.  And now you want to fix him.  One man pays for every letch and wolf whistle.  You go through men like most women go through kleenex, and then you complain about the advances you provoke.  The man is blind.  Look at what you've done to yourself, to us, to him.  Can't you look in blind eyes?  Let's see what else you've done!"

After her "friend" explains that she's almost been RAPED, this is the speech that happens in the end.  Marjorie is blamed because of how she dresses.  Blamed because the other women are jealous of her.  Blamed because, according to some, she was "asking for it."

As an audience member who witnessed the scene at the beginning of the play, this twisted speech is horrifying to us.  And yet...  there are still articles like this one.  If you haven't clicked on it and read it yet, it's about the gang rape of an eleven year old girl (that's a FIFTH or SIXTH grader, ladies and gentlemen).  It was written in March of THIS YEAR.  In the article, it states: 

"Residents in the neighborhood where the abandoned trailer stands — known as the Quarters — said the victim had been visiting various friends there for months. They said she dressed older than her age, wearing makeup and fashions more appropriate to a woman in her 20s. She would hang out with teenage boys at a playground, some said."

And about the rapists:

"These boys have to live with this the rest of their lives."

 This article reminds me of an article printed in our local newspaper a few years ago when a cyclist was killed on the road - hit by a driver who got (get this) a wreckless driving charge and $250 fine for hitting him with her car.  He was riding on the right side of the road, as near to the shoulder as possible (no issues with the law here, my husband rides his bike to work every single day, we know the state law on bicycling well).  It was day time.  The woman driving the car said she "just didn't see him."  In the article describing the tragedy, it was stated that "the cyclist had a driver's license, but chose to ride his bike."

EXCUSE ME?

You're saying that this might be the cyclist's fault because he chose to ride his bike?!?!?  Insanity.  He had a license...but he chose to ride his bike.  The cycling community cried outrage and wrote to the paper and the police department (it was claimed as a quote from the police report) and eventually the police issued an apology for the statement - but really?  I find it insane that anyone would blame the victim.  The guy was killed by an automobile.  I'm not saying we should rake the girl over the coals.  Things happen.  There ARE such things as accidents, but let's not make this the fault of the guy who had no choice in leaving his wife and kids without a husband and father because he decided to get some exercise and cut down on his carbon footprint.

It's the same with this rape case.  A little girl was raped.  By many boys and men.  Young and old.  In an old trailer.  She's eleven.  So because she dressed like she was twenty and wore make-up maybe it's her fault?

It's like my husband said when he we talked about this issue, "If a woman is walking down the street naked, that is not an excuse for a man to pull her into the bushes and rape her."  Rape is never okay.  It is never acceptable.  It is never the victim's fault.  NEVER.

The other thing about this play that struck me was the fact that Raul was right.  Marjorie couldn't count on justice for the man who attempted to rape her (edited for my younger readers):

RAUL.  You there?  My eyes burn!  I need a doctor!  You there?  I'm hurt bad!  Help me!  You there?  Where are you?  (MARJORIE dials the phone.)  Call the cops, ...!  You can't prove a ... thing!  Why don't you ... answer me!  ...  I'll kill ya!  Get the cops!  They gotta let me go!  Your Honor, I goes out looking for work cause I got laid off the car wash and I sees this farmhouse and goes t'ask if there was any work cause I got three babies t'feed, and this crazy lady goes and sprays me with this stuff, Your Honor.  Go on, Marjorie, go down the road and stop a truck on the highway and tell 'em get the cops.  You got no bruises, no witnesses, no ...  You got nothing, ...  This is a civilized ... country, ...!  You don't go around tyin' up innocent people, Marjorie!


So what can Marjorie do?

An Open Letter to Yale President Richard C. Levin

richard.levin@yale.edu
Dear Mr. Levin,


I was dismayed to see evidence of Yale fraternity pledge week chants gone horribly wrong via this web page tonight when I arrived home from a meeting.

I am disgusted that a University with the prestige across the globe that Yale has managed to obtain would allow such undignified, offensive behavior.  I would expect a university that has so long led the nation in turning out the best and brightest would be the first to set the tone for respect amongst a community of learners, rather than cultivating a culture of fear.


How horrifying such a chant must have been for the women on your campus who have worked so hard to graduate with highest honors in order to attend this premier school of the Ivy League, and how terrible for them to have to endure such a thing ever again.

It is my plea that you will do the right thing in this situation and lead by example so that young women can feel safe and secure on their college campuses as they walk from dorm to classroom to cafeteria, even in the darkness of night.  The rape culture that the hateful speech demonstrated by the boys of DKE promotes is unlawful, frightening, and irresponsible on the part of the University Board.

Please take a stand for young women and for university culture for all persons wishing for a higher education in this country, and across the globe by punishing these boys as is their due.  These young men should attend classes so that they can understand the magnitude of their actions and perhaps be suspended from the school for a term, if not expelled.  Perhaps a good lesson for the boys of DKE would be sponsoring anti-rape sessions and clinics for others on campus. This fraternity should be held accountable for their contribution to campus rape culture and reprimanded thoroughly with the promise that they will not be welcome on your campus if such behavior continues.

As the University upheld for tuning our nations finest minds, I would hope that you would consider it your duty to uphold a safe learning culture where everyone is valued as a part of the intellectual community and no one has to feel that their lives and dignity are in danger as they cross campus in the evening or walk from their parked car to their dormatory at night.

Thank you for paving the way for safer campuses for women everywhere, and for upholding the highest standards in under and post graduate education.


Sincerely,

M.B.

Stop it.

This morning I left my kids in the car with it running while I ran inside to get the Netflix and drop it into the mail. Don't chastise, you know all you mothers have done it at least once in your lives. Nothing horrible happened. I left the door open, and ANYWAY, that has nothing to do with this blog except that it sets the scene for what happened next.

As I was walking back from the mailbox, I heard my daughter screaming. When I looked into the backseat of the car, I could see my son reaching over and trying to tickle her and she was trying to push his hands away and crying. He knew that she wanted him to stop, but he kept doing it anyway. I saw it.

I told him to stop and he said "I was just tickling her!"

"She was crying because she wanted you to stop."

...

"But you did it more anyway. You are in time out. Five minutes. When someone says to stop, you stop. When [your sister] is crying it means that she wants you to stop. You don't keep doing it. You stop."

He did his time on the curb in front of our house while I made faces at my daughter through the car window. It was freezing, so I thought it best to let her sit in the heating car. The windshield wipers and defrost were on full blast so I could forgo scraping the windows, especially since I didn't have a scraper.

As I looked from my son to my now giggling daughter, I admit I felt a little sick. Why did he keep tickling her when it was so obvious she wanted him to stop it? Why would he do something like that?

I talked to him again after the time out and then we headed to his school. It was pretty quiet in the car. I had some time to think - which is rare in our family.

While were were sitting at a red light I had a little flashback to a few months ago when my husband's parents were here and my son's grandfather was tickling him.

"Stop it!" he yelled through forced laughter. Grandpa didn't stop it. Grandpa kept it up. And the other adults laughed. I remember this bothering me a lot, but I wasn't sure what to say. This seemed to be how grandfather's played with their grandkids.

There was another time when he was wrestling with my brother at Thanksgiving and he said "let me go!" My brother said "What's the magic word?" and my son said, obviously feeling out of control and a little scared "Please!", and then his uncle let him out of the "hold".

I remember as a child my own uncle played with me like that. I hated it. He was my least favorite uncle because I hated that feeling of being held down and unable to move, barely able to breath enough to choke out the word "Please!"

All of these flashbacks showed me something.

If this is how we play with children. If this is how we allow our children to be treated. How can they EVER say "No!" and mean it when they grow up? How can our sons understand that when a girl says "Stop it!" she MEANS it. She shouldn't have to say "Please!"

It seems, when I step back in this way, a twisted game of control, and it scares me. A small child couldn't hope to have control over an adult so much bigger than him. He pleads for them to stop and they DO NOT STOP or they tell them that they must SAY THE MAGIC WORD... this is wrong. We should treat our children with the respect we expect them to show others.

Treating them in this way will only show that the bigger person has all the power. The person who is physically stronger is always in control. Someone smaller or weaker must be subservient. Must ask permission. Must beg.

I think that these are the sorts of situations out of which rapists are born.

I am not saying that my brother or father-in-law, both of whom I love, mean any harm. Or that my uncle did when I was a child. Or that my son will grow up to hurt those weaker than himself... but it is an awful paradox to get through, is it not?

I hope that next time I will have the courage to say something - that God will give me the right words to say to explain why I don't want my children treated this way. That it will make sense to someone other than me.