Today was the annual Take Back the Night march on the University of Wyoming campus. I go every year. In fact, I've organized four of them in partnership with other groups. It's always a time to reflect on exactly what I want to accomplish.
For those who don't know, I worked in the anti-violence field for several years before law school. I've talked with many survivors of sexual abuse, both in my personal and professional lives. I've talked with women and with men. Some have been kids, some have been far older than I. One consistent theme was that almost all of them felt like people didn't listen to them. Their family often accused them of doing something to bring on the rape, or their male friends went off the handle in a fit of testosterone poisoning.
Where does that leave this person who needs help? Where can she get support? It's a difficult question, and I think the answer lies in the fact that she should be able to get support from family and friends, the very ones that make her feel like the criminal. These are the people who should be really listening.
From a man's perspective--and I am a man, despite some occasional confusion--rape is devastating. Men aren't taught how to handle these disclosures, and of all women who tell about rape, half the people who hear that initial disclosure are men. We need to learn to truly listen, and not just when a friend or relative tells us she has been raped. That's the big one, but we need to learn how to do it on a daily basis. For example, learn what the women in your lives do to avoid male violence. I guarantee that every woman does something. It can be as obvious as carrying pepper spray, or as subtle as making sure she always parks near a light in a parking lot.
But it's not enough to know that she does these things, you also have to understand why. The bottom line is that women live their lives under the constant shadow of violence from men. Oh, this doesn't mean that every woman is constantly in fear in all circumstances, but it does mean that her life changes in a thousand ways that men don't know about. It's a circumstance of life that shapes her life in a way that men can barely begin to understand.
But we must. The bottom line is that women are afraid of me on dark streets, walking across campus, and following her out to the parking lot. They must consider before accepting a ride home from the bar with someone they don't know well--and knowing someone well is not really protection. It is repulsive that women who see me on the street, who don't know who I am are afraid of me. And they have a reason to be. Not because of who I am, but because of who I represent. Because of what other men have done to other women, and there's a pretty good chance they've done it to that particular woman, too.
I hope that if you are a man reading this, it repulses you, too. I hope that you read this, and it at the very least makes you think about all those things that we as men take for granted. I want you to think about all the ways women's lives are different than ours, and for no good reason. Perhaps I'm being overoptimistic, but I would like to think that some might even make a committment to do something concrete, something more to create change.
And for the women, I want you to know that there are allies out there. Sadly, there's no real way to tell who we are, but we are out there. Many take responsibility, that is the responsibility to make the world what we would like to see for our sisters, mothers, lovers, wives, and daughters.
