ATTN: Stupid People on the Internet

I was pleased to see this post turn up on Jezebel today, because as someone who had similar experiences  several times over the course of my life as a teenage girl I know that it's absolute bullshit to be shamed for your body when all you're doing is trying to be comfortable. However, I was not pleased to read the slew of shamey-victim-blamey comments that followed the piece. Are you serious Wendy? When a young woman decides to open up to you about the first time she's ever felt ashamed of her sexuality, it is not the appropriate time (as if there's ever an appropriate time!) to suggest that she's overreacting or deserved what she got.

Harpies take on Pollan's bullshit

God I love this blog. The Pursuit of Harpyness is full of super thoughtful, intelligent, funny women with enviably sharp critical thinking skills, and now they're the latest "ladyblog" to call out Michael Pollan for his nonsense and point out the overall weirdness that is the new food movement's attitude about women. All I can really say about that right now (supposed to be awake for work in 5.5 hours, aaaah) is WORD.

A big fat DISLIKE post

Getting hit on always makes me feel embarrassed and uncomfortable--it pretty much never strikes me as a flattering or pleasant experience. No matter how nice dude-in-question is about it, I always come away feeling weird. Sometimes even ashamed. I think it's because I don't like the reminder that because of who I am and how I look, I'm seen as being sexually available. I think this is also why I'm so creeped out by the concept of "dating." To me, the ideal relationship, sexual or otherwise, comes first from friendship or at least good conversation. But here I am today, squirming at the thought of someone coming into my workplace and spending a few days assessing my physical attractiveness while only speaking to me enough to order a cup of coffee. Spending a few days looking at me before deciding that I'm worth his time or inquiry.
I feel like these situations ruin nice people for me. Dude-in-question seemed like a perfectly nice, quiet person, who I would have been more than happy to exchange friendly small talk with or whatever. Navigating other peoples' flirtation is sometimes just part of my job, and that's usually not so bad because it's not exactly personal. It's easier to shrug off. But then this particular dude had to go and ask if I had a boyfriend and about how old I was and about what I was studying (all to determine whether or not I was available/desireable), making me feel vulnerable and small and stupid. Making me feel like a piece of scenery--an object. And then of course, because just being awkward wasn't enough, he had to tell me that because I'm a student I'm not even living in the "real world" yet. Two of my least favorite kind of dude-interactions combined--hitting on me and condescending to me at the same time. And this was the first conversation I had today.

Just now I tried to tell a male friend of mine about it, in the (misguided) hope that he would commiserate with me or at least find the story funny. Instead, he just told me that I need to get used to this kind of shit because I work "in a public place." Now I just feel worse. There are some things I'm willing to get used to in order to do my job effectively (see: dealing with flirtatious customers, getting yelled at, having people make comments about how I'm dressed and my hair color and my piercings, earning thousands of dollars below the poverty line, cleaning up other peoples' garbage, deflecting rudeness, etc.), but I refuse to accept that interactions that make me feel like my safe space and my bodily autonomy have been ignored or violated are something I should just accept. The thing is, I have to deal with that kind of interaction constantly, be it sexual harassment on the bus or nice guys asking about my relationship status at the coffee shop, and it always makes me feel like shit. It's not just something I'm expected to deal with at work, but it's something I'm expected to deal with in every aspect of my life, in every space I occupy...and I don't want to. Why should I have to? My friend that said this to me didn't mean to be a jerk and he didn't mean to make me feel bad. He just lives in a world where, as a man, unwanted sexual advances (which are probably less frequent for him than they are for me, if I may venture a guess) don't involve the same weird power dynamics, the ones that make it okay to suggest I'm immature even while expressing interest in me, the same ones that make it okay for strangers to ask me questions about my personal relationships to what they hope is their own benefit. The dynamic that allows "what do you study" to come after asking me if I have a boyfriend.

Now I'm just comforting myself by thinking that maybe dude-in-question is secretly a pickup artist enthusiast who was just talking about to real world to "neg" me for "The Game." That would actually take this from crappy to hilarious in no time.

Michael Pollan and I Are Offcially Breaking Up

Michael Pollan. Seriously. Stop it right now. I want to like you! I want to believe everyone who says you're the savior of food in America! That would make my life so easy. But instead I keep noticing that you have a hard time wrapping your head around feminism's role in the U.S.'s approach towards food over the past 50 years, and you don't seem to be all that interested in the complexities of women's relationship to food either. Other people have called you out about this, thankfully. Plus you seem to have some freaky grudge against vegetarians, who you claim are naive and sentimental. Just shut up and eat the $10 local grass fed burger you guys!

Ugh

Can we seriously never have a conversation (on the internet or in a group of people in person) about female genital mutilation/cutting/circumcision without SOME fool-ass-fool jumping in with "But what about male circumcision?!" Stop it. Actually, this applies across the board to all conversations about terrible things that happen to women. Is it really so frightening that sometimes we take a few minutes to not talk about dudes and/or their penises?

Lessons!

I'm learning more than I ever really hoped or expected to about just how tightly people cling to privilege. The situations I've been dealing with lately have mostly been about white privilege, but in confronting these ugly little debacles male privilege has come up too. I've questioned a few people lately on comments they have made, and more than one of them has taken the "you are just too emotional to argue with" approach--obviously as a confident woman I have no grasp of rationality. And then of course there's the flare of anger, the instant defensiveness, the "why don't you mind your own business." Because you see, women can be such nosy bitches, and somehow when you posted that Facebook status you didn't really mean for anyone to comment on it, let alone challenge your problematic ideas expressed therein.
These people know that the tactics they use to respond to me will shut down any real attempts at conversation. I really think they know that they're wrong, somehow. When they get called out, somewhere in there they know that they've said something fucked up and don't know how to justify it, so they skirt the issue. They make it about me. They make it about me because they convince themselves that I'm attacking them, that I'm trying to be rude or to hurt them or to make them look stupid. I couldn't care less about any of that. What it's really about is the world we live in that normalizes and encourages white privilege and male privilege, and a whole host of other unsavory attitudes that systemically contribute to the abuse and oppression of others. I hate that world. I hate seeing it reflected back at me in people I know. Teachers of mine have told me that the most important part is planting that first seed of consciousness, the thing you say that pierces the surface and gets carried around, turned over, periodically examined, occasionally making its presence obvious and uncomfortable. That's when it starts to make a difference.
For now maybe I'm clumsy. I don't always express myself like I want to, though the words come easier now in conversation and in type. I'm getting better at controlling my anger, but I still feel the heat in my face and the shiver in my voice when I know I'm about to go somewhere ugly. But I've decided I can deal with a little extra anger and discomfort--it's worth it. And you know what, white dudes in my life? You could stand to be a little more uncomfortable too. Think of how shitty it can feel when you're being challenged, or getting called on your nasty comments, or being asked to check your privilege, and I can guarantee you that the people you trample on every day without ever noticing feel a lot worse than you do in that moment when you realize you're wrong.
So I'm trying. I'm trying to be a better advocate for myself and ally for others, and someday maybe I'll actually get to consider myself an activist. But I'm still learning, and it's still hard.

Dislike

I am seriously not a fan of when supposed feminists make really awkward and generally shitty comments about race and class. Stuff to the tune of "maybe our country is kind of racist sometimes but not NEARLY as much as it is sexist."

Playing the oppression Olympics is never a good choice--it is insensitive, it is ignorant, and it is all too easy of a cop-out. Don't do it.

I'll probably pursue feminist topics on here in more depth in the future. Tonight's not the night though.