The "war on men" essay: a surefire way to make your moderate friends rant until they and you are flecked with spittle

Hey kids - here is the article tearing up those Facebook charts. Shiny and new, hot off the presses! I'm sure conservative odes to Good Old-Fashioned Gender Roles are clogging up blog servers all over the place, but for some reason lots of people seem to be reading this thing, and now we all have to read it.

Feministing wrote a snarky rebuttal and Jezebel has an even snarkier one, but the prize goes to the Washington Post (WashPo?) for its piece, "Straw Feminism 101". I am fried from my new job, so all I can do is repost large portions of the original and snort into my soup.

*****

But let us return to the words of the article. How have women changed?

In a nutshell, women are angry. They’re also defensive, though often unknowingly. That’s because they’ve been raised to think of men as the enemy. Armed with this new attitude, women pushed men off their pedestal (women had their own pedestal, but feminists convinced them otherwise) and climbed up to take what they were taught to believe was rightfully theirs. Now the men have nowhere to go.

Aha. Well. There you have it.

How is it that women have changed? More visible ankle? Fewer hope chests? More voting and owning property?

No. It was the pedestal. We got off our own pedestal.

That was our first mistake.

Unexamined, the idea of being on a pedestal sounds pleasant. People lay wreaths at your feet. The view is nice. But after a while the stylite’s existence pales. You discover what being on a pedestal entails: remaining decorative and immobile.

Stop climbing and taking the men’s things. Shoo! Back! Back to your pedestal! Possibly women weren’t angry until they read this article, but now, if I am anything to go by, they are practically irate.

On setting boundaries and feeling like life is more awesome as a result

Lately I keep thinking about setting boundaries. So many people hate doing it, or feel like they don't have the right.

The formidable Alison Green has a good post up about how to set boundaries with an amorous coworker who can't take a hint:

Additionally, when he offers to walk you to your car, say, “No, thank you, I’m fine.” If he insists, then you need to get firmer — “No. I’m fine.” And you say this in a serious tone — not smiling, not lightening your tone. People (especially women) often try to lighten their “no” because they feel rude. But if someone is showing you that he’s not hearing or respecting your no, then you need to be much more clear, and that means risking offending the person, because your right to assert your own boundaries needs to trump your desire to be nice.

And when he lingers at your desk and disengaging isn’t getting the point across, be direct: “Bob, I need to work. Please don’t stand there.”

Frankly, you also might need to stop driving him and your other coworker home after work, at least until you’ve re-built the boundary there.

Take note - this response does not involve agonizing, flailing, castigating yourself for being insensitive, telling all of your friends, feeling furious, feeling guilty for feeling furious, saying vaguely upset things on Facebook, or writing apocalyptic Tweets to your locked account. It's so important to know how to address a problem like she describes above - logically, calmly, while taking your own needs into the equation. Reacting firmly when someone crosses a line. Dialing down the drama, in other words.

And Captain Awkward has a wonderful post up about setting boundaries at work and troubleshooting the process. This bit is how to deal with the "wounded innocence" of people who are being called out on inappropriate behavior, when it's been making you uncomfortable but you haven't said anything.

When you enforce a boundary you haven’t set before, even well-meaning people can get really weird about it. Sometimes they get embarrassed about their own behavior and take it out on you for making them uncomfortable. They see calling them out as a hostile act on your part, when actually, asking someone calmly and directly to stop doing an offensive thing is the most professional and chill way you can behave. You might get some version of the “But you didn’t say anything before, so it was okay before, so I thought we had an unspoken agreement that it would always be okay and now you’re ruining everything by changing the rules on me!” defense. If you get sucked into this logic, you start thinking that only boundaries that are set perfectly from the very beginning of a relationship count, which is, frankly, the stinky poop of of a cow and I have no patience for it.

She is great. I especially love how she pointed out the crazy thinking of "you're not allowed to set a new boundary once I've established a pattern of behavior". (It also reminded me of Scarleteen's page on sexual consent. This talk of "boundaries" has a HUUUUGE application in romantic relationships.)

Luckily, most people can take a bit of criticism or boundary-setting without melting down. (The ones who can't, I think, usually have problems setting boundaries themselves.) It's momentarily uncomfortable, sure, but the feeling of emotional health and security that you get from having your needs met is like a Jacuzzi and a double-shot of espresso. Everyone else's lives improve too. Nobody is stuck waiting in the deadly emotional bus station of "I know something's wrong, but I don't know what, and I don't want to ask."

Emotional agency! It is for everyone! It is like sunshine, or air, or how health care ought to be.

“I have always believed that each of us is responsible for doing her own emotional homework, that the process of facing down our ghosts is our small, attainable contribution to a kinetic process that holds the potential for healing the world. And why not? After all, the opposite is true: History has proven that people who are unwilling to catch and release their individual sadness, disappointments, and hidden motivations have compensated by wreaking havoc on the world. Good and evil lie within each of us, and every day we choose which potential to fill.”

- Deborah Daw Heffernan

Not that healing the world begins and ends with that, of course. But this applies - especially to people who tend to rush around fixing things, keeping busy, and then collapse in a heap.

Last weekend brought strange weather. It was warm, with a grey sky that seemed to muffle everything like cotton. I went walking in the park, and all of the leaves falling from the trees had very muted colors. The haziness in the air made everything seem like a movie from the 70's - translucent and dull orange. It was like a filter had been put over the camera, and it was all sepia-toned.

I saw diving ducks in the pond, all black except for their little bright blue bills. They'd pop under the surface - blip! - and reappear a minute later. I also saw cardinals chasing each other around the inside of a leafless bush. It was a good day for climbing up on fallen logs.

I've been so busy! I have a big stack of links I want to think about and talk about, but the last week has been a whirlwind of logistics and meetings and friends and karaoke. I go home for a week with family tomorrow, and I plan to lounge around and be thoroughly useless, at least until it's time to make the pies.

"What Happens to Women Denied Abortions?" (Scientific study)

It is late and I am reposting, so in brief:

First long-term study of what happens when women are denied abortions. What happens mentally, emotionally, financially, etc. In brief: if women were allowed to have abortions, a year or so down the line, they were more likely to be employed, less likely to be in an abusive relationship, less likely to be on government assistance, and less likely to be living below the poverty line.

If they are not allowed to have them, and carry their babies to term, only 11% give them up for adoption.

Also:

We have found that there are no mental health consequences of abortion compared to carrying an unwanted pregnancy to term. There are other interesting findings: even later abortion is safer than childbirth...

On heckling, cat-calling, and the long stare

Tonight, walking home from my brother's birthday party, I interacted with two different sets of men.

I was walking through one of those brightly-lit tunnels they put up at construction sites. Coming the other way were two goofy-looking men in baggy hoodies and sneakers. One of them said, "Mmmm, girl, I been lookin' for you all night!" in a growly, enthusiastic voice. I laughed. It's been a while since I've gotten a line that cheesy, and I thought it was funny. I didn't take it seriously.

The two men walking right behind them were wearing nice button-down shirts. They looked like men who frequented expensive bars, and have conversations about politics and business. "You're smiling?" one muttered, disgusted, as he passed me. And just like that (uh-oh) I was ashamed.

What, why can't I smile or laugh? Do you think they're "disrespecting me", and it's wrong to smile? ...How should I react, then? Should I ignore them? But guys do this all the time, and ignoring doesn't work. It just makes me seem scared and submissive. Should I do it because I'm a Lady? ...Who says you get to tell me what being a Lady is?! ...Okay, okay Anna, turn the brain off. Who cares what he thinks? Who cares!

It was strange, but the subtle behavior-correction bothered me a lot more than the overt come-on.

Catcalls used to upset me when I first moved to New York. (I ignored them. This didn't help.) But then, after a while, I started laughing, joking, and heckling back. And now, it doesn't get under my skin at all. (NOTE: I'm talking about interactions in "safe" public spaces, e.g. a crowded street or train. If I'm alone, you can bet that I take the potential threat of assault seriously.)

If the guy is a banterer - "You look lovely today, miss!", or "How you doing tonight!" I'll just say, "Thank you!/Good!" and flash a big smile, and keep walking, spirits high. If he follows that up with, "Oh, can I take you out on a date?" I say, "Nope!" in a cheery voice and keep walking, spirits still high. And most of the time, they'll call out, smiling, "Okay! You have a lovely evening!"

Most guys who catcall are like this, in my experience. It's a kind of burlesque, a patter, a joke exchange. I can laugh at them and walk away, and they will smile, because secretly that's all they want - an audience. It's as silly, and harmless, as a dance number in a Rogers & Hammerstein musical. They seem almost relieved when I'm not offended. I think they might fall over in surprise if I actually flirted back.

...And then there are the creepers. Particularly the ones who say nothing, but stare. I'll be on a train, feel someone's eyes, and look up; and a fifty-something man with grey hair is boring holes into me with his expressionless face. They have good stamina, these starers. They don't look away. Their goal seems to be to intimidate; unlike the other guys, they're not looking for common ground. Most of the time, I think, these guys see themselves as dark and tragic figures, sort of like the Phantom of the Opera. Lots of self-pity. "Nobody likes me! My sexuality will overcome you! I am the Dark Lord of Love!"

In these situations, the best line of defense is to confuse them, or make the moment absurd and funny. I don't ignore them, I don't attack; I go gonzo. I might furrow my brows up like Bert from Sesame Street, or bare my teeth like a tiger and wiggle my fingers, or smile and wave in a really cheesy way. Once I stuck my tongue out at a middle-aged European tourist. This confuses the hell out of them. They look away, or blush.

You see, it all falls apart if I make a silly face, because that's not how I'm supposed to act! I'm supposed to be scared! I'm supposed to be offended, a "stuck-up bitch". I'm supposed to act like I'm "too good for them", and reinforce their belief that women are otherworldly, godlike, vapid, wicked creatures. I'm supposed to take it very seriously, because their desire is serious, it's big and powerful, more powerful than me! Don't I understand that?

(This last bit, I think the two buttoned-up gentlemen would agree with. Which is why I got mad.)

When dealing with a creeper, I don't give a good goddamn about acting like a lady. (I don't in general, but.) I don't mind grossing out a persistently creepy man so he'll be repelled or embarrassed and leave me alone. I'll spit on the sidewalk, make an ugly face at them, invent an obscene gesture, do a weird dance. I go wild, in a way that's more "Wild Kingdom" than "Girls Gone Wild". I enjoy seeing the look of shock on their faces. "Hey! No fair!" it seems to say. "You're not allowed to do that! You're not acting like a woman anymore!"

And when I do that, I get to break out of the box labeled "girl object" for a little while. If I laugh, if I spit, if I make eye contact and a crazy face - I surprise them. I make them realize I wasn't what they thought. I'm bigger, stranger, braver, and funnier than they imagined. They are so shocked when this happens. I don't care about retaliation - I'm not trying to wound them or get back at them, or defend my honor. I don't need to bring out the big guns, because their leering is just not as scary or tragic as they think it is. I simply want them to know I am here and I am laughing.

But if I walk by tight-lipped and offended, and stare straight ahead, and pretend to ignore them... the heckling increases. The dirtiest things that have ever been said to me were delivered when I tried to ignore someone. A guy wants attention, I ignore him, he gets angry, sees me as a "stuck-up bitch", and amps it up - I ignore him, he becomes enraged, it gets more intense.

The worst thing about silence is that it's passive; it telegraphs fear. It turns me into a china doll, immobile and pinch-lipped and perfectly feminine. And they think I am afraid, and treat me as if I am. If I am silent, if I pretend to ignore someone that's bothering me, I give in to his reality. I submit to the assertion that I am whatever he thinks I am. With my silence, my refusal to engage, I confirm that I am mute, and his desire is voiced. And I become an object all over again.

So I don't ignore, but I don't attack, either. I refuse to play the game on his terms. I flip the dynamic between us into something absurd or funny or grotesque, and make him see the world through MY eyes. Maybe one of these days when I pull a funny face, one of those Dark Lords of Romance will crack up laughing, and not take themselves so seriously. Who knows.

So. Ahem. Harrumph, koff koff, etc, OBAMA

These articles on the Onion are funny because they're just kind of true, in a sad, blunt, slightly scary kind of way. It's the "hysterical laughter" brand of funny.

On last night's election:
Nation's Women Wake Up Relieved To Find Selves Still In 2012

After Hurricane Sandy, re: the growing awareness of climate change:
Nation Suddenly Realizes This Just Going To Be A Thing That Happens From Now On

In other news,
LAST NIGHT'S ELECTION! IT HAPPENED! IT IS REAL!

Y'all, I was filled with the spirit of voting. Filled with it! But after two hours in line, outside, I was too tired to do ambitious things like "stand up" or "talk". I walked to my friend's house, and we rang in the new election year eating cheesecake on the floor* and drinking whiskey. And then OH MA GAH...!

After the initial flailing, texting, and subdued whinnying, I started to realize how many progressive reforms had passed as well. Gay marriage? In multiple states? A lesbian senator? Pot, legal in two states? Had I been hit on the head and sent back to Oberlin, land of the hippies?

It's almost like... all of the stuff we've been caring about, so fiercely, is starting to become real. Eeeeep. Add that to the crazy Narnia snowstorm that's rapidly forming outside as we speak, and everything is seeming a bit magical and eerie. Watch out for freak storms, progressive reforms, or fauns with scarves and little nubby horns...

* We were lying on the floor, not eating cheesecake off of it. We had plates. Not forks so much, but. Plates.