Lady Beware

Got an email from a coworker first thing this morning -- it was addressed to women in general to help us protect ourselves from rape. The premise was that someone had interviewed a group of “rapists and date-rapists” in prison about the techniques they’d used to prey on victims – it sounded like selected excerpts from Urban Legend Reader. The call is coming from inside the house, ladies, be more cautious!
Except wait, it’s not our work to stop ourselves from getting raped. Only rapists can stop rape. Sorry girls! Bummer about that!
It was lurid, really. There was a whole section on how serial killers often use a recording of a baby crying to try and get women to open the front door so that the baby won't get out onto the street and be run over. Hmmph. Here is a conversation regarding this fervent warning with Pashmina over email.

The first time I got this email was about 10 years ago, it goes around from time to time. I appreciate the spirit in which Joan offered it, but ultimately I think it’s dangerous to put this stuff out there. Sure, stranger rapes definitely happen, but they are the tiny minority of sexual assaults and this kind of scary advice perpetuates the myth that you are vulnerable in public and safe at home.
I also think that, though of course it’s good to be cautious, warnings that just raise the general fear level are bad for our gun-loving culture. Makes me think of the part of Bowling for Columbine where he shows a montage of evening news clips and they are all about how you should be afraid, be afraid, be afraid. It’s a very sensational email, full of murky tension like a murder mystery. Read it again with an eye for the dramatic pacing and emphasis on painting a vivid picture of brutality.
The damage of this kind of fear-poke is that it acts as a social control mechanism for women. This is all about how you are always in danger when you step outside your door and should expect to be tracked and targeted. So many of us just decide it might be better not to go out at all. And it lends weight to the “rape PREVENTION” model rather than the “rape risk-reduction” model, which really puts the blame on the victim. Like for example: The first thing men look for in a potential victim is hairstyle. They are most likely to go after a woman with a ponytail, bun, braid or other hairstyle that can easily be grabbed . They are also likely to go after a woman with long hair . Women with short hair are not common targets.
So if, heaven forefend, you are raped in the street by a stranger, it was probably because you were too stupid to cut your hair, you whore.
Do you dig me?

That’s an interesting point of view, I totally didn’t notice any of that, probably because I was getting so distracted by being scared. Except I did notice the stupid hair comment, that was just lame and similar to the whole “she was wearing a short skirt so she deserved it.” But I get what you mean about perpetuating fear in women and sort of “keeping them in the house” etc.

This is a clue that this email is sent to scintillate and scare you, and in turn to keep you safely and timidly at home: Even whole families of females on vacation without a man and very vulnerable to attack by some clever ruse. They just disappear.
Really? Really. Exactly how many whole families of women have disappeared on vacation? This is what really threatens us, what we really need to be focused on when we are trying to protect women from rape? Women in every single war end up in rape camps – American soldiers are not above the rest of the world in using rape as a tool to break down the morale of the nation they are trying to take over -- except those are third world women, they aren’t real people, and they don’t get an email.
What is the actual likelihood that if I travel with other women only we will all be abducted? Will bringing a dude along work like a magic charm to protect us? That kind of statement is itself a part of rape culture. The message is transparent: You need a man. If you don’t spend your life under male supervision you will probably be raped and killed. Your own fault, should have known better.
A lot more women are raped on vacation by their male supervision then by roving gangs of thugs.

Wait a second. I think I stopped reading the email before I got to that line. Now that is just PLAIN RIDICULOUS. Whole families of females LOL LOL LOL LOL.

Seriously! I feel like I’m being too strident, but I’m compelled. I wonder who wrote this and why. It’s always wise to question the source, right? This mythical group of “rapists in prison” has been talked about for years, was it like two guys or was it twenty? What kind of rapes did they commit? This whole serial killer summit set up sounds suspect to me.
Also wise? Look at who benefits from this information being passed around. Did this really ever save a life? I think that this sounds like a very clever dispatch from the Patriarchy to control our movement through fear.

I had a feminist weekend and I think it’s bleeding through my workday. But I’m also not wrong.

Free to Be (if you're a friend of JC)

This morning my coworker Eunice meekly slipped this on my desk next to my elbow as she passed them around Cube City.

My Dear Co-Workers:
I am putting together a newsletter for my church for our discipleship ministry. I thought it would be a good idea to place in the newsletter how different individuals view and define discipleship. Please help me by giving me your definition of discipleship. I need your definition to come off the top of your head. That means do not use a dictionary, thesaurus, or the internet. Participation is not mandatory but would be greatly appreciated. If you can, please complete and return to me by the end of today. Many thanks to you. (Eunice) Do not attach your name.

Within minutes, this email appears from my workfriend Pashmina: i’m not going to lie: I don’t even understand what discipleship means. I seriously don’t. I’m kind of annoyed that this was passed around.

We had to do a lap around the office to talk about it. ‘Cause, really, what can you do? I’m a Dianic-Wiccan-leaning Pagan, she’s a culturally-Muslim Agnostic. We both figure this woman means no harm, but we’re both offended. It’s not like this is the first time the assumption of Christianity has come up.
Ultimately we decide to just ignore it, not make a fuss but not participate. What’s interesting is how I felt when she gave it to me. My first reaction was to write something for her! Like, say “I’m actually not Christian, Eunice, but this is what I think discipleship probably means”. I could probably give a pretty god definition, actually, I grew up in a Protestant denomination called “Disciples of Christ” and all.

Here’s the really fucked up part: Some part of me feels embarrassed not to be a Christian. I feel like my existence is just sort of rude.

This is the insidious damage the Christian guise of the patriarchy inflicts. I’m swimming in the American national identity, a pollutant in the sea of Christianity, the presumption washing over me until I feel like this is just how well-mannered people conduct themselves; it’s propriety to be part of a church. Like saying “I’m not Christian” is sort of like saying “I watch a lot of porn”. Both of these are true, but it’s not polite to mention either one at work.

So the question I have is the origin of this shame: Am I embarrassed because Cube City is a casually Christian environment that makes me feel like an outsider by omission? Or is this a symptom of growing up Christian and still feeling the tentacles of guilt that come from leaving the Church?
Well, I don’t so much have guilt about leaving the Church, I really, really don’t. It’s more like growing up Christian gives me some insight into how this little memo from Eunice happened and some empathy for her. I’m certain, 100% certain, that she never thought it would offend anyone. She’s just asking, right? She said you don’t have to do it, right?
I can see her good intentions. I can picture the newsletter committee trying to work on their issue, in the windowless church office or the fellowship hall, after the opening prayer, over sugar cookies and Styrofoam cups of grape juice. I can imagine their excitement about Eunice’s great idea to ask her officemates to define “discipleship”, the earnest attempt to incorporate an outsider’s point of view. I don’t want to put her down, she’s trying to create something. She’s part of something that makes her feel special, she’s a contributor. Somehow I’m not able to be annoyed with her, even though this memo is hers alone, not an office-sponsored request.

But here’s my damage: These Christian assumptions feel like an army of termites trying to eat into my identity and make it rickety. Like a casual, even unconscious, but insidious way to break me down, erase me.

The office Christmas party that seems to last the whole month of December, with religious symbols all around, and coworkers (seriously, this happened) are offended when I say “Happy Holidays”. Religious posters on the walls of offices. The pressure to be a Secret Santa. Bible quotes in email signatures. Devotional booklets or Bibles on 5 of the 9 desks in my area. The office closing early the day before Easter. Inviting coworkers to church-sponsored events over email. Church fundraiser order forms in the lunchroom. Everyone here apologizes when they say “Oh my God!” as though it’s a cuss word and says “God Bless You!” when you sneeze. A what’s-your-zodiac-sign conversation where two people at the table said “I don’t believe in that, I’m Christian.” The anti-Halloween “Devil’s Day” discussions I’ll overhear starting soon. Our information and referral operators ask “Do you belong to a church?” when people call looking for help. Every third person wishing me a motherfucking Blessed Day.

Each of these examples seem so petty – it’s harmless, why get all upset because people feel strong in their faith? They didn’t ask if you were Christian when they interviewed you, right?
Ok, true, it’s not like anything illegal is happening here. People are just expressing their personal beliefs. But it’s far from harmless. To me, it just makes it a hostile environment. When I say “I’m not Christian.” I get the startled, scandalized “oh!” And a glare like I have three heads and eat babies.

Which I do, but still.