AM Leibowitz, Author at A.M. Leibowitz

“But we’re not all like that!” Part 2

Warning: Sexual harassment and assault

Yesterday, I wrote about how “not all like that” is often code for “I don’t like something about you but I’m trying not to be a jerk.” Today I’m going to talk about a different sort of “not all like that”–the kind that gets defensive when there are people “like that.”

Every day, women put up with (often in silence) all manner of harassment–on the street, on public transportation, in the workplace, in church. Catcalls, leers and jeers, whistles, groping, comments about our bodies, name-calling, angry retorts when we don’t respond. We bear it, usually because someone has told us it isn’t a big deal or that we must have “been sexy that day” or we’re overreacting. We’re made to feel alone, as though we’re the only ones who have ever experienced it, and we must somehow be responsible for it.

I’ve been there. The boy who cornered me and grabbed my breasts until I screamed for help. The classmate who ran his foot up my leg during study hall and whispered dirty things he was going to do to me. The religious authority who forced me to feel his erection. The student in my lab who gave me his assignments with “bitch” and “whore” scrawled at the top. The kid who wrote in my year book his offer to “let” me give him a blow job. The men who whistled at my sister and me on our way to the theater and called out,”Heyyyyy, ladies!” The man in the bar who put his arm around me when I wouldn’t give him my attention.

The problem isn’t just that these men and boys exist. It’s that whenever we talk about it, the automatic response from at least one man will always be, “But we’re not all like that” or “Well, I’m not like that” or “”Men get harassed too, you know.” Well, cheers to you that you’re not like that, but don’t expect me to pat you on the back and give you a gold star for not being a dick to women. Would you like to know some better responses? Here you go:

My God. I’m so sorry that happened to you.

and

Next time I see someone doing that, I’ll speak up.

and

It’s wrong for anyone to be treated that way.

and even

It’s happened to me, too. (Because it does happen to men, and that’s just as shitty, and men shouldn’t be shamed into silence either.)

Unfortunately, too many people believe that these are isolated events perpetrated by a few folks with boundary issues. It’s not, though. Millions of us have experienced these things, and they happen everywhere. I hope that when confronted with the facts, the denial and the shaming and the victim-blaming will unravel. The UK-based Everyday Sexism Project seeks to make that happen, fighting the lie that it’s not common or it’s the fault of the people on the receiving end. I highly recommend following @EverydaySexism and the hashtag #SHOUTINGBACK on Twitter.

Take a few minutes to watch this video (it’s probably NSFW; there’s explicit mentions of specific kinds of harassment, including public masturbation).

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=PBeNfSoMqjY]
Don’t excuse or minimize this behavior; don’t remind me that you don’t participate; don’t play the “what about the men” card. Please just help make a difference.

“But we’re not all like that!”

LGBTQ+

Not gonna lie, I’m sure I’ve said those exact words. Or, more specifically, I’ve muttered them at my computer screen, whispered them to God late at night in bed, and thought them angrily in my head while listening to people preach. Up until a couple of years ago, I didn’t dare speak them out loud, because to do so would mean to lose the people I hoped to help move toward change.

I admit, I’m not a huge fan of Dan Savage, but I credit him with saying something that made me take notice. He said Christians should stop hiding behind “not all like that” (I’m paraphrasing here). He specifically meant in regard to support of LGBTQI people, but I think it applies just about everywhere that -isms reside. We can’t just sit silently or straddle fences; if we’re against oppression, then we need to do something about that. (Honestly, I could just shorten that to “Fuck living in the tension.” If I never hear that phrase again, I will die happy. It strikes me as a way of trying to have one’s cake and eat it, too. Just be honest, dammit–if you’re truly anyone’s ally, spell it out; otherwise, keep your yap shut.)

Anyway, that’s not my point, really. What I want to write about is the people who wear their “Not All Like That” gold star as a way of silencing people. I’ve actually found, over the years I’ve been at this blogging thing, that Not All Like That is really code for, “I don’t approve, but I’m going to be nice anyway.” These are not hidden allies who are scared to speak up; they’re people who still believe they have the right to treat people as issues to fight over. More often than not, it’s people who are still stuck in an endless loop of “love the sinner, hate the sin” and “it’s the same as any other sin, like being a drunk” (heard that one more times than I can count at this point). My personal favorite is, “Well, I’m wired to want to cheat on my wife; you’re wired to like people of the same sex–let’s both work on our issues.” Yech.

An exchange between friends this morning prompted me to think about the ways in which some Christians continue to deny that there’s anything wrong because they aren’t participating in the worst of it. There were some words traded back and forth about whether or not the Church has chosen to fixate on the wrong problems in the world. I had a distinct impression of excusing religiously-based heterosexism because it’s not as bad as hate speech.

This is just an alternate form of “not all like that.” I’m not sure where the idea comes from that the Church bears no responsibility for quite a lot of anti-gay obsession. A number of prominent organizations and preachers have had pretty vile things to say about LGBTQI people, mostly in public. There are still places one can go to be “cured” of the “homosexual lifestyle.” Friends have expressed grief that they’ve been shamed–sometimes publicly–both for being LGBTQI and for being an ally. It’s easy to see where the Church has gotten a reputation for spending more time and energy on fighting gay marriage than on resolving world hunger (or hell, even hunger in our own country).

At the same time, there’s this new wave of “moderate” Christians who want to distance themselves from what they perceive as the truly evil, while still maintaining a position in which they refuse to acknowledge people’s humanity. A fellow blogger has pushed every. single. one of my buttons by continuing to act as some kind of spokesperson for the Church of Not All Like That. She’s written on such cheery methods of “reconciliation” as hugging a gay person (at random? one we know personally? not sure here) and attending a gay pride parade for the purpose of observing the people there. (Just a bit of advice: Please don’t do that. Put that way, it dehumanizes people by making them sound like wild animals you’re visiting in their native habitat.) I’ve seen similar sorts of things across my Twitter and Facebook feeds, and it drives me up the wall.

Listen. I know you Not All Like That folks mean well; I really do. But please trust me when I tell you that LGBTQI people and their allies do, in fact, know the difference between patronizing them and actually loving them. Sometimes, when you have an established relationship, you can make this work. God bless and more power to ya. But when you are a random stranger on the Internet? Don’t. Just–don’t. The words, “But I love you anyway” should not come out of your mouth or your keyboard.

It’s easy to say you’re going to love a LGBTQI person (or hug them or stare at them at Pride or write precious things about how you care for them even though you “disagree” with who they are). I recommend against saying it, though. It’s a lot more important that you do it. Your LGBTQI friends and family don’t actually require your approval to be who they are, so telling them that you “love them anyway” is not likely to further that relationship. That isn’t acknowledging anyone’s personhood, it’s making you feel better for trying hard not to be a jerk.

I’m kinda done with the whole fence-sitting thing; I have been for a long time. I don’t bother trying to engage people in conversation so I can convince them to change their position. I used to be willing to go there, but not anymore. Honestly (and I apologize for this), I was making humans into issues. There was a point at which I truly wanted everyone to stand on what I believed to be the “right” side. What I want now is for people to just be honest. I’m not interested in making space for anyone at my table–I want a whole new table where people don’t need to ask for space. If don’t want to do that, then own it. Don’t pretend you’re honoring the full humanity of others while still refusing them a seat.

50 Shades of Pancakes

Books

Warnings: The Fifty Shades series is extremely sexually explicit and involves BDSM. Because of that, and because they are not exactly well-researched or high-quality literature, I will mention things such as abuse, rape, rape culture, male dominance, sexism, relationship violence, and consensual BDSM. Also, the books began as Twilight fanfic, so I will be mentioning Twilight (which is a major squick for a lot of people just by itself).

Is it me, or is it a little obsessive to be so fixated on sex that one doesn’t want to do anything else? I understand being in love. I understand wanting to have sex. But at the exclusion of everything else whenever you’re with the person? That doesn’t seem realistic. Or healthy, actually. Increasingly, this story is coming across like it can’t decide whether it’s erotica or something else. I’m leaning toward something else.

After Christian takes Ana flying and then kisses her until she wants to forgo breakfast in favor of humping in a field, they do the most romantic thing ever: they go to IHOP. No, really. Even Ana seems surprised. It’s made even better when she describes the restaurant as smelling like “sweet batter, fried food, and disinfectant.” Thanks for that disturbing thought, Ana.

Ana says what the rest of us are thinking: “What the hell is Christian Grey doing in IHOP?” (Okay, not in those exact words.) Given what we’ve seen of him so far, it does seem a little strange. Still, that could be a great set-up for something romantic and fun…except that it’s not.

That’s one of the biggest problems I have with the awful writing in this book. So often it seems like we’re going to get more, and then the author leaves us cold. All of these great lead-ins end up being disappointing filler between sex scenes. Instead of Ana and Christian taking this opportunity to get to know each other, all they do is imply that they’d both like to go at it like rabbits in the middle of IHOP.

Fortunately, the server interrupts them and gets all flustered when she sees Christian. Of course. I mean, it’s not like this happens every time Ana and Christian go out together because we all need to be reminded how hot he is. We’re spared Ana’s usual jealous rage over it this time, but after the server leaves, we get Ana’s whining, which makes up for it. She apparently thinks it’s unfair that he “disarms” women.

He’s apparently both confused and not confused about this. He says it’s just his looks. Ana explains that it’s more than that, to which he replies,

You disarm me totally, Miss Steele. Your innocence. It cuts through all the crap.

I don’t know about you, but that doesn’t sound like a compliment.

When they finish their meal, Ana offers to pay. I just love Christian’s reply:

Are you trying to completely emasculate me?

Yes, Christian, that’s exactly what she had in mind. She obviously knew that her offer to pay would make you feel very, very tiny inside. I’m so glad we have this book, or we might never advance the cause of feminism, which has a clear goal of emasculating men by having women pick up the tab.

Naturally, Stalker Christian knows where to drop Ana off. Instead of being completely weirded out by this, she’s disappointed that he can’t take her back to his hotel room and have lots of kinky sex. She thinks,

Why do I want to spend every single minute with this controlling sex god? Oh yes, I’ve fallen in love with him, and he can fly.

Well, all righty then.

After several pages of annoying chit-chat, emails, and phone calls, Ana discovers that Christian has phoned her while she was accepting a job offer. When she calls him back, he tells her he has to leave because of a “situation.” She’s relieved that even though he sounds angry, it’s probably not at her. On the other hand, she recalls that the last “situation” he dealt with was her virginity, which makes her think,

Jeez, I hope it’s nothing like that.

The chapter concludes with another series of exasperating emails. The thing I hate about these emails is that they read exactly like things people send in real life. That is, they really only make sense to the participants. I hope Christian explains to Ana what she says in her sleep, because I don’t think I could take another round of Gmail.

Notable News: Week of June 8-14, 2013

Cool Stuff, Links, Odds 'n' Ends

Happy Friday! Here at our house, this is the last Friday of the school year (for the kids, anyway). They’re done as of next Wednesday. I’m glad, because I need a vacation. The nice thing about the school calendar is that just when I’m starting to feel burned out, we get another break. I’m going to be making the most of mine, that’s for sure.

Here are the cool (and not-so-cool) things I read this week:

1. The “question” of consent

Dianna Anderson has a fantastic post on dignity and not treating people as questions to be answered. She rightly points out the inherent problem of calling consent a question and where the Church must tread lightly in regard to ideas open to debate. Ironically, the same day I read this post, I read another one in which the writer cheerily talks about wanting to interact with “the gay community” in order to demonstrate how loving she is–all while simultaneously referring to “the gay lifestyle” as being outside God’s perfect design. Guess that writer didn’t read Dianna’s post first.

2. The “question” of breadwinning wives

I highly recommend you make time to read all of Danielle’s response to Mary Kassian’s post on breadwinning wives. I particularly liked the second part, My Marriage Is Not a Form of Prostitution. In parallel, I’ve seen couples treat marriage this way outside of the career/financial angle–a lot of people seem to think that it’s an acceptable transaction to trade sex for goods and services. I’m not convinced that’s a healthy view of marriage.

3. Questions for N. T. Wright

If you’re a fan of Wright’s work, you may be interested in his responses to readers’ questions on Rachel Held Evans’ blog.

4. The “question” of women teaching

This is a great read from Laura Ziesel about the illogical view of women as “more easily deceived.” I have long held that not only can we not determine exactly when a boy is too old to be taught by a woman (many churches arbitrarily use 18), we also have the stupid view that a 70-year-old life-long woman of faith cannot teach a young, inexperienced barely adult male of 18 or 21. Now there’s another one–that women, being weaker and more easily deceived, should probably not be teaching children, either. What a load of manure; thanks, Laura, for pointing that out.

5. Questions for a couple coping with chronic illness

This is an interesting interview with a couple in which the wife has endometriosis. I appreciate the wisdom in recommending that the Church develop healthier ways to talk about sex and relationships, especially given the fact that it’s never one-size-fits-all.

6. The “question” of PDA

Yeah, I admit I’m one of those people who prefers that couples not stick their tongues down each others’ throats in public or grope each other under their clothes on the beach. But a little kissin’? Heck no, that doesn’t bother me. It makes me just want to scream whenever I see someone on social media write,

I’m not homophobic, but I really don’t need to see two guys kissing.

I get it that some people don’t like PDA, but until everyone starts pointing it out when they see a het couple doing it, then those people really need to keep that thought to themselves. Anyway, go read this article about couples who were asked to leave for PDA and then try to tell me it’s not homophobia.

7. Love isn’t a question

My fellow writer Aaron Smith has written a beautiful guest post over on Registered Runaway’s blog. He says it all; I have nothing to add.

8. A question of point of view

Novelist Adrian Smith explains using second person. I do it all the freakin’ time, on this blog and in casual speech, but I’ve never written a story in second person. When done well, it’s good; when done poorly, it’s awful. See if you can make it work. (See what I did there?)

9. The “question” of modesty

Oh, dear Lord, here we go again. We women don’t know what we “do” to men. Apparently, they have to repeat the internal mantra, “Don’t think about boobs don’t think about boobs don’t think about boobs dammit I’m thinking about boobs.” This just seriously creeps me out, because I don’t think I know any men who really have these issues, but a few who do have managed to convince a whole generation of young men that they do, too. So gross.

10. A question for Cheerio-despising racists

At the end of this spoof of the Cheerios ad with the biracial couple, the question is: “What? Now this is a problem?” Go watch it and share the funny with your friends.

11. A story with a question

I’m not entirely sure what happens after the end of my story for Fiction Friday. I’ll let you decide.

Have a great weekend, everyone!

Dad

Marriage, Other Relationships

Father’s Day is this Sunday. Whether you have a dad, are a dad, or fill a fatherly role in someone’s life, I hope your day is meaningful.

This story is a little sadder than my usual. This isn’t an easy day for me, and I imagine it’s not for many others as well. No worries, I’ll be back with something lighter next time.

Note: Please don’t read more into this story than I intended. I had several requests to write more about the people from my previous stories in this “world,” and I hadn’t done one about Chad, so I thought I’d start with him. Don’t worry, he’ll have less drama in a future installment, I promise. Also, don’t assume you know what’s underneath his troubled relationship with his dad. I intentionally left that ambiguous, because I wanted it to be relatable. I’m not even sure I know that just yet; Chad hasn’t confided in me.

Isaac Blesses Jacob, deatail. Govert Flinck, 1638.

Chad woke to the sound of the shower. He stretched lazily and blinked a few times to clear the sleep-induced blur from his eyes. He ran a hand over his face and sat up, remembering what day it was. He winced, thinking that as an adult, he really shouldn’t still let it get to him. He threw back the covers and slipped out of the bed, then began pulling the blankets back into place and smoothing them down. He flopped down on his back, his legs hanging off the edge of the bed, and threw one arm over his eyes.

The shower stopped and the door opened. Steam and the scent of soap wafted out, and Chad breathed in. He let himself smile a little as he propped himself up on his elbows. From where he was situated on the bed, he had a clear view into the bathroom. Al stepped out onto the bathmat to dry off. The familiar curve of his spine and the lines and planes of his body were comforting. He looked over and caught Chad’s eye.

“See something you like?”

“Always,” Chad replied, but only half-heartedly. Understanding flickered between them.

Al rubbed at his hair to dry it. From under the towel he asked, “Are you going to call him?” He finished and pulled the towel around his hips.

“I’m not sure.” Chad closed his eyes. He could hear Al rummaging around in one of the drawers, probably looking for his razor. Chad reopened his eyes just in time to see Al starting to shave. “It’s just…” Chad wasn’t entirely sure what it “just” was. It had been easier when he hadn’t had to think about what it would mean. “He hasn’t really been–you know.”

“You remember what my dad said his father was like. I still think he’s not too crazy about it, but at least he keeps his mouth shut during family dinners.”

“It’s not exactly the same thing.”

Al wiped his face on the hand towel and leaned back so he could meet Chad’s gaze. “I know.”

“After what happened, he wouldn’t even come to the wedding.” Not that Chad had been surprised, really.

Chad turned over so that he was lying prone with his face in the pillow. There wasn’t much to say. It was just a phone call, but it seemed like significantly more at the moment. Chad heard Al walk out of the bathroom and turned his head to peer at him. Al yanked off the towel around his waist, folding it and threading it over the rack on the back of the closet door. He pulled out his clothes.

“It’s really up to you. Not much going on today, other than dinner at my parents’ house at five.”

“Mm-hm.”

“We can just have a quiet day, if you want.”

“Mm-hm.”

“Or I could wait until you fall asleep and paint your toenails red and draw a fake mustache on your lip with a Sharpie.”

Chad pushed himself up a bit. “You’re a jerk.”

“Just making sure you were listening.”

Chad threw the pillow at him, but he missed. Al just laughed and went back to getting dressed.

Neither of them said anything for a few moments. Eventually, Al said, “Okay if I tell Paula we’ll take the kids overnight next weekend? Kyle’s out of town and she wanted to go to that women’s thing at her church.”

“Oh, God. I hope it’s every bit as fun as the men’s version I went to last week.” Chad sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

“I’m sure it will be even better. Why’d you go, anyway?” Al paused in buttoning his shirt, his head to one side.

“Because Kyle told me it was going to be awesome, and then he bailed. I was stuck with a bunch of middle-aged men going on about how hot their wives are.”

“I didn’t know Kyle had promised to go. He was with Dad and me at the new house.” Al resumed his buttoning.

“Yeah, well, that’s Kyle.” Chad shrugged.

“Sure is. I’ll give him hell for you next time I see him.”

“Nah. It wasn’t all bad. Remember that guy Bill I mentioned? He asked if I wanted to catch the game with him in a couple of weeks. I guess his company gets free tickets every year, and his wife hates baseball.”

Al rolled his eyes. “Better you than me. Anyway, what do you want me to tell Paula?”

“You can tell her we’ll do it.” Chad chuckled. “You know they only like coming here because we feed them ice cream and let them stay up late.”

“And put on DVDs of the Muppet Show. Don’t forget that.”

“I’m surprised that hasn’t gotten us a lifetime ban. You know how Paula is about ‘adult humor.’” Chad threw in air quotes for emphasis.

“There are worse things we could let them watch,” Al said, shrugging.

“Oh, like half the crap you enjoy? Good thing Paula doesn’t know about those.”

Al reached out to swat at Chad, who rolled out of his reach just in time.

“You want me to make breakfast?” Al offered.

“Maybe. I’m not really hungry.”

The bed dipped a little as Al sat down. “Hey.”

“What?”

“You know you don’t have to do this.”

“Call, you mean?”

“Yeah.”

“I know. But maybe if I do…”

Al shook his head. “Don’t do this just because you think you have to or because you think something will change.” He reached out and put his hand on Chad’s arm. “I’m not going to think less of you if you don’t. Do what you need to, but do it for yourself.”

“Okay.”

“I want to go get some coffee. You want to shower first? Should I wait for you before I eat?”

“Nah. I’m just going to take some time.” He knew Al would understand what he wasn’t saying.

“Sure.” Al leaned in for a brief kiss, then rose from the bed. “I’ll see you down there in a bit.”

Once Al had closed the door behind him, Chad glanced at the clock. It was a few minutes after eight, which meant it was plenty late enough. He reached for his phone. His hand was shaking slightly as he pulled up the number from his contacts. The phone rang twice before he heard a familiar voice on the other end.

“Hi, Dad?” He cleared his throat. “It’s Chad.”

Refelction, Not Influence

Women, Writing

Warnings: Mentions of rape, violence against women, objectification, and domestic abuse. Description of a rape scene.

As some of you know, I do some unpaid work proofreading. I love it, because I’ve been able to work on some incredible pieces. I’ve also met some terrific authors (and even got a signed copy of a book out of the deal–win!). It’s a way for me not only to make connections like that, but to improve my own writing as I learn what’s good–and what’s not.

Over the weekend, I had the misfortune to have a chapter land in my lap that made me feel sick and violated. The writer sent what, on the surface, appeared to be an interesting combination of mystery and either urban fantasy or science fiction (this was the first chapter; it was hard to tell). It turned out to be some kind of erotica, supposedly with “BDSM” themes. Yeah, not quite.

After the first two pages, I started to feel uncomfortable, though I couldn’t pinpoint why. At first, it just sounded like the main character was imagining what it would be like as a dom. I’ve seen that before, but this just read…differently. After a second read-through, I figured it out. This guy wasn’t just thinking about being a dom in a particular relationship, he seemed to be applying this fantasy to all women. That is, he liked the idea of women–not exclusively a partner–being incapable of movement and unable to speak.

I set that thought aside, though, because I’m not well-versed in BDSM lifestyle/culture and figured perhaps the writer was expressing things badly. It’s been known to happen (ahem, Fifty Shades, anyone?). That is, until I read further. A strange woman appears at his door, looking for someone else. In the process of “comforting” her, he begins to fantasize about what he wants to do with her. Again, this made me uncomfortable, that a man would be incapable of meeting a woman without sexual interest. Clearly this is a person who sees women as existing solely for the purpose of fulfilling his sexual fantasies.

In the last scene of the chapter, the main character is waiting in a reception area and begins fantasizing about the secretary (of course). He imagines himself hauling her across her desk and assaulting her with a knife, slicing her nipples, and forcing her to have sex with him. The way the scene is written, it’s clearly intended to be erotic rather than terrifying. Let me tell you, it absolutely scares the shit out of me to think that a strange man would come into my workplace and imagine himself brutally assaulting me.

There are a number of people who will probably tell me that it’s “just fantasy” or that it’s okay because it’s fictional and no one’s really going to imitate that behavior just because they read it in a book. I’ve heard the same arguments about Fifty Shades, and they don’t hold any water for the same reason.

Stories like Fifty Shades or the rapey fiction I read last weekend are not cultural influencers. It’s probably true that no one’s going to first read the book and then act in the same fashion. Rather, these books are a reflection of what’s already happening. Women are already in abusive relationships, being manipulated and led to believe their partners love them or that they can “fix” their partners if they do all the right things. Women are already being objectified and raped. These are not things that are caused by reading a book.

The real problem is that books like these condone the behavior; they make it seem acceptable under certain circumstances. When abuse is sold as romance, it makes the abuse appear to be acceptable. Domestic abuse is okay, as long as a woman understands it’s because her partner only did it because he loved her. When rape is sold as eroticism, it justifies a view of women that we are playthings. It’s all right to fantasize about tying up and raping strangers at knife point, as long as one doesn’t actually do that in real life. It isn’t a matter of life imitating art, it’s the other way around–and not in a way that points to the behavior and says, “This needs to stop.”

If either of these stories were clearly defining the abuse and fantasy-rape as Very Bad Things, I would champion them and demand everyone read them. It’s entirely possible to point out societal ills in a manner that condemns the behavior, while still allowing the characters to see things differently than the readers. To Kill a Mockingbird does this perfectly in the narrative of the rape trial woven throughout the story. We can see the racism, but many of the town’s residents are incapable of such insight. The important thing is that we’re not supposed to side with them. We’re not supposed to see them as the heroes of the story, and we’re rightly indignant when people in real life also fail to understand why it’s wrong.

It’s a far, far different thing entirely to create characters who enforce violent, abusive behavior. What a difference it would make in both of the stories I mentioned if the end result were for the abusers to be recognized for what they are. Unfortunately, that’s not the case, and the consequence of both is reinforcement of a culture that is violent towards women.

Writers, this is my challenge to you: Don’t fall into the trap of believing your words have no subtext. Words mean things, and not just individually. Collectively, we can send messages that perhaps we don’t consciously intend. Be purposeful with your words; examine yourself and your work for ways in which you’ve upheld stereotypes or reflected cultural norms that might be best left in the trash where they belong. You, writers, are better than the ugly violence that some are selling as acceptable.

“But we’re not all like that!”

50 Shades of Pancakes

Dad

©June 14, 2013 ABMitchell

Refelction, Not Influence

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