This post will be fairly long and likely pretty dramatic. So, fair warning.
Hello all, I am a man, 23 years of age, in Colorado. This summer I decided to take my first Women's Studies course. I am on the ground floor, I guess you could say, of this grand structure that is feminism. I have relished the learning experience. I have taken comfort in thought and there is so much thought to be had in this experience.
But I am facing some conflicts. I'm not exactly sure where I fit in with this movement. I am the spitting image of privilege. White, male, upper-middle class (dad's a doctor), college-bound. There is the obvious fact that I can't really know what it's like to be a woman in this culture, but the readings for this class have thrown more and bigger wrenches into the works. Recently we read a speech that the venerable Andrea Dworkin gave to a "Men's Movement" in the early 80's (link ) in which she, in no uncertain terms, places the blame for all sexual assaults at the feet of men like myself, particularly the "sensitive and aware" ones. She contends that our bad feelings are evasions, and the continuation of our current culture is evidence enough of our failure to commit to doing the right thing.
I think a lot of men would balk when faced with rhetoric like this. A lot of women would as well. But I was receptive of it, to a point. I have intensely connected with this class, moreso than any other class I have ever taken. I have even considered switching my major to WS (a thought my friends and family and even I find somewhat ridiculous, but it's really appealing to me) and I have always put a great deal of stock in the idea of moral truth. When I read Dworkin's piece I recognized that moral truth instantly.
But there is a problem beyond the immediate concern of how exactly I can utilize this knowledge. In her speech Dworkin delineates a clear distinction between those who directly victimize or are complicit in victimization through inaction (white, upper-class het males like myself) and those who are victimized (women). On a gut level this makes sense. But I find that I am unrepresented and unfairly denigrated by this paradigm, and not because of any indignance I might feel as someone being called out. Rather, when I was a young boy I was taken advantage of sexually. It has been a very integral part of my identity for a long time and since I've begun this course I've struggled with it on a daily basis.
And so I have a difficulty figuring out where I fit in, in this conception of the privileged versus the exploited. I certainly feel more exploited than I feel privileged, but the line is drawn. Reading the speech transcript was a powerful trigger. Dworkin says, in effect, that by virtue of my having the identity I do, I am complicit in sexual assault. I made the not-very-short leap from being complicit in the vast, terrible world of sexual assault to my own, and I was reminded of those times as a child when I was challenged by others and asked why I did not fight for myself. Now not only should I have fought for myself then, I should be fighting for everyone now .
I want to say that Dworkin is wrong, honestly, but I don't think I can. Were she alive I would write her and ask her to be more inclusive in her language, but even if she was, even if she had been then, the problem that I have would still be evident. I was born with much power, yes, and much privilege. But I feel as though that was taken from me. I don't feel like a man, I despair at the thought of being one. I know what it represents at its core, I know what it is, I've been on the receiving end of it.
So I endeavored for a short time to allow myself to cast off the identity of "man", to be something different. But I realized as I read the speech that this was ultimately an evasion of the problem, an easy , meaningless gesture to make myself for my own benefit rather than for the Good. Dworkin speaks of how self-serving a man's pain is, and I recognized that. I could no more wash my hands of rape by renouncing masculinity than a plantation owner could wash his hands of slavery by refusing to participate in it. I can't choose who I am. I can't extricate myself from my culture to spare myself. And every minute I am failing, and people are hurting in far worse ways than I ever have.
But I can't get over it. I can't accept my complicity in my heart, I can't accept my commonality with the boys in my old neighborhood. I want to run away from it. I want to exercise the fullest extent of my privilege and forget it and pretend as though living a vaguely decent life absolves me. I feel as though it is unfair. Even when I'm ruined on the inside I have to carry this. I have to swallow my agony and act as though I am powerful. I have never felt powerful. But I have never wanted for anything, either. And that's the rub of my situation. I am given a choice here. I can do what I am asked to do, and take the bitter pill and accept my blame and struggle as I'm needed, and this bleeding wound I have may tear and it may kill me as I've always feared it would. Or I could remain where I am, safe and comfortable in my narcissism, and distance myself from my experience and wrap myself in privilege.
I feel trapped, but honestly I think "trapped" is a place where more people like me ought to be. I feel like if I hadn't been assaulted I wouldn't even be considering these options, I'd simply ignore the problem. That's what privilege really allows, I think, the luxury of ignorance. I feel the same pain as so many amazing women in my life have, I feel like I see through the same eyes. I can't ignore anything. I feel like I'm being forced into a tunnel that is far smaller than I am.
So that's where I find myself, more or less. Perhaps things will become clearer in the future but for the moment this all seems quite impossible. I feel like I have to do something but I'm not sure what that is going to be.
I suppose that is an inordinate amount of complaining on my part, but I think this beats a journal and honestly I think it might help to get feedback, even if it is from the Internet.
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1) I don't think feminism should ever make men, ESPECIALLY men who want to become feminist, feel bad for being born male. That one was totally out of your hands. I think it's easy to look at the results of patriarchy and feel guilty, the same way white people may look at much of the history of Western Civilization and feel crummy for what our ancestors have done. But NOBODY should be tried and convicted based solely on their race or gender. That would be incredibly anti-feminist, no?
2) I dig what you're saying about coming from privilege, and I don't have all of the answers to your question. It's, again, easy to feel guilty for the advantages we receive based solely on race or having the "right" parents. But I think that it is foolish to imagine one can separate oneself from privilege. I think Stuff White People Like lampoons this pretty well: even if you change clothing, music, career, diet and make a few "ethnic friends," you will STILL be a white male who grew up as a doctor's son, yes? So instead of attempting to reject this privilege, I think the better route is to stay conscious of your privilege and not take it for granted. THAT'S the big problem, right? When people with privilege fail to recognize the legitimate challenges others face and only judge the world through their own, privileged framework. I also think we can all honestly desire to HELP others without first COMPLETELY empathizing with them. e.g. I have no first hand experience with genocide or gang rape or famine, but that doesn't mean I am incapable of helping victims in Darfur. You don't need to completely empathize with "the female experience" in order to work to change the patriarchy. I don't have easy "how-to" steps, in fact, I wish "using your privilege for the Greater Good" was addressed more often within feminism.
I'm sorry that Dworkin's writing made you feel so alienated. There is absolutely a place for you at this table.
"...But I think that it is foolish to imagine one can separate oneself from privilege. I think Stuff White People Like lampoons this pretty well: even if you change clothing, music, career, diet and make a few "ethnic friends," you will STILL be a white male who grew up as a doctor's son, yes? So instead of attempting to reject this privilege, I think the better route is to stay conscious of your privilege and not take it for granted..."
Well said.
"...I also think we can all honestly desire to HELP others without first COMPLETELY empathizing with them. e.g. I have no first hand experience with genocide or gang rape or famine, but that doesn't mean I am incapable of helping victims in Darfur. You don't need to completely empathize with "the female experience" in order to work to change the patriarchy. I don't have easy 'how-to' steps, in fact, I wish 'using your privilege for the Greater Good' was addressed more often within feminism..."
Great points!
indeed!
I think there is a middle ground. Dworkin is pretty universally regarded as way to the radical side of feminism, and very few feminists agree completely with everything she has to say. But her ideas are very valuable, and should still be taught as part of a spectrum of feminist beliefs.
However, none of what she says makes you complicit to your own sexual assault. You mentioned that you were young at the time, a minor. As a child, you don't have the social, cultural, or physical power to be considered at fault, even if you do simultaneously have some privileges because you are white male child.
I have two recommendations. First, be kind to yourself about your sexual assault. It's not your fault, you deserve to have whatever feelings you have about it, and you deserve to get help in coping with its aftermath if that's what you need.
Second, I urge you to check out feminist works that focus on intersectional analysis. Patricia Hill Collins is a good place to start, even though she focuses on Black women and won't speak directly to your experiences. The point of intersectional analysis is to show that one person has many different facets to their identity. Some of those facets may bring more privilege than others, and they may work together to create new patterns that no one would have predicted. Each person is an amalgam of different identities, all occurring simultaneously. It seems like this would help explain your struggle to reconcile all of your privilege with being a survivor of sexual assault.
Good luck, and I hope this helps!
"...However, none of what she says makes you complicit to your own sexual assault. You mentioned that you were young at the time, a minor. As a child, you don't have the social, cultural, or physical power to be considered at fault, even if you do simultaneously have some privileges because you are white male child..."
Exactly!
"...Second, I urge you to check out feminist works that focus on intersectional analysis. Patricia Hill Collins is a good place to start, even though she focuses on Black women and won't speak directly to your experiences. The point of intersectional analysis is to show that one person has many different facets to their identity. Some of those facets may bring more privilege than others, and they may work together to create new patterns that no one would have predicted. Each person is an amalgam of different identities, all occurring simultaneously. It seems like this would help explain your struggle to reconcile all of your privilege with being a survivor of sexual assault..."
Good advice. Lots of us have some privileges and don't have others at the same time. KvP, you have male privilege and I don't, I have the privilege of having never been raped and you don't, etc. Just labelling one of us "more privileged" than the other doesn't always add up.
Thanks, I will look up Collins. My instructors have already pointed out my preoccupation with false dilemmas. The habit of looking at things in terms of binaries is hard to shake.
Heavy. and though I can't relate to you experience of sexual assault, i will do my best to share what knowledge I have being a white, male, feminist ally.
Guilt, is a useless none emotion. Guilt, is itself a privilege... you have somewhat touched on this. Guilt of being a person with many privileged identities does not lessen the obviously intense traumatic experience of being the victim of sexual assault. That childhood experience will always have a profound experience on who you are today.
But I think your struggle is that now you are in man's body and you are trying relate to some experiences some women have with assault. yet your experience was inherently different though extremely awful.
You and I are the same age and we weren't even born when the speech you reference was given. Though not as much as we would have liked to have changed, there has been progress. and the anger expressed by Dworkin was channeled productively as a wake-up call to those who weren't really listening.
You are listening, you are trying to be a good ally, you are getting yourself educated. The issue, so often, is that feminism can rarely be found in the class room. And when it is, its important that those spaces be safe spaces for traditionally marginalized identities. Make sure you find a mentor who can help you unpack the hard questions about your own identity.
When I, like you, took women's studies and immersed myself in anti-oppression the two biggest challenges were the following 1) resisting the escape routes back into privileged ignorance that I was offered hourly and 2) Knowing when its my turn to sit down, listen, and offer myself as an ally first, individual activist second.
Let go of the mantle of 'i need to fight for everyone now'. You don't, you need to find how you fit into feminism... and in fighting for yourself you fight for all of us. If you are interrupting sexist jokes for someone else, you are only getting a part of the point. Allies interrupt oppressive jokes because it bothers us, it hurts us, it makes the world we want to live in less safe, and it’s wrong. We aren't knights in shining armor.
You are brave, you are on a tough journey, and the guilt and confusion will sort itself out on feminism side of things if you keep listening, keep asking questions in the right environment (like this one), and find a mentor (professor, author, like-minded friend).
"yet your experience was inherently different though extremely awful."
Though the basics remain the same, from my reading there are a large variety of circumstances surrounding rape.
Keep in mind that even though the male child's experience of rape might be quite different to a woman's experience, it might be more similar to a female child's than a woman's is.
Heavy. and though I can't relate to you experience of sexual assault, i will do my best to share what knowledge I have being a white, male, feminist ally.
Guilt, is a useless none emotion. Guilt, is itself a privilege... you have somewhat touched on this. Guilt of being a person with many privileged identities does not lessen the obviously intense traumatic experience of being the victim of sexual assault. That childhood experience will always have a profound experience on who you are today.
But I think your struggle is that now you are in man's body and you are trying relate to some experiences some women have with assault. yet your experience was inherently different though extremely awful.
You and I are the same age and we weren't even born when the speech you reference was given. Though not as much as we would have liked to have changed, there has been progress. and the anger expressed by Dworkin was channeled productively as a wake-up call to those who weren't really listening.
You are listening, you are trying to be a good ally, you are getting yourself educated. The issue, so often, is that feminism can rarely be found in the class room. And when it is, its important that those spaces be safe spaces for traditionally marginalized identities. Make sure you find a mentor who can help you unpack the hard questions about your own identity.
When I, like you, took women's studies and immersed myself in anti-oppression the two biggest challenges were the following 1) resisting the escape routes back into privileged ignorance that I was offered hourly and 2) Knowing when its my turn to sit down, listen, and offer myself as an ally first, individual activist second.
Let go of the mantle of 'i need to fight for everyone now'. You don't, you need to find how you fit into feminism... and in fighting for yourself you fight for all of us. If you are interrupting sexist jokes for someone else, you are only getting a part of the point. Allies interrupt oppressive jokes because it bothers us, it hurts us, it makes the world we want to live in less safe, and it’s wrong. We aren't knights in shining armor.
You are brave, you are on a tough journey, and the guilt and confusion will sort itself out on feminism side of things if you keep listening, keep asking questions in the right environment (like this one), and find a mentor (professor, author, like-minded friend).
It sounds to me like you're in a pretty normal state of mind given all of that you're reading and thinking about for the first time. A period of guilt and frustration and sometimes wanting to just walk away from it all is, I think, to be expected. But it has to be a phase, not a place to get stuck in, because if you don't go beyond these emotions, then you will walk away from this work. And if you walk away, you probably won't be hurting yourself much, but you won't be doing anything in solidarity with the individuals and groups who are targets of systematic and institutionalized oppression.
So, here are my thoughts. I would encourage you to look up Allan G. Johnson online and start with some of his work. Why? Because he's a white man, like you, and he's been thinking deeply about issues of interlocking privilege in our society based around race, class, and gender.
Now I'm certainly not saying that it's okay to just read a white man's writing when so much has been written by women and men of color and by white women. That would be a sad, sad thing to me. However, I'm suggesting you check out his work, if you haven't already, because it seems like you're in a place where you need to identify with another white man who is doing this work. I guess the reason I'm suggesting this is because, for me as a white woman, Ruth Frankenberg's writing about whiteness and privilege was a really important work.
And of course, reading is critical, but it's not enough. Is there an organization you can find that you'd like to volunteer for? Find one and sign up. Do some work where you can feel comfortable, but also challenge yourself-- challenge yourself to follow, to listen, and to support the work of women. It may surprise you how honestly hard it is to be in a support role if you're accustomed to aspiring to something "better."
And I am so, so sorry for all you've been through. I wish you all the best.
Thanks.
About getting involved, I don't know exactly. Today I inquired about volunteer work around my campus, I've got an appointment tomorrow with a coordinator of such things and I I think I'm going to start working with either the Campus Feminist Alliance or some other organization that calls attention to and provides aid for people who have had similar experiences to mine. I have felt compelled, partly because I worry about how much time will pass before this feeling of revelation and possibility retreats from me, and partly because this is obviously a very personal issue for me. It remains to be seen in what capacity I'll be able to serve, I don't know if I'll have the strength for direct victim advocacy.
Thank you for this honest, moving piece. I think you answered your own question about what you can do to help. Use your privilege as a platform for the cause. You said yourself you have a desire to be a WS major. It seems the only thing that's holding you back are others' reactions?
Like your comment, that's exactly what I try to do,use my privilege as a lever against the patriarchy you can do a lot of damage from inside, time to get busy cutting up some guts!
On becoming a women's studies major:
I took a women's studies class in my 3rd year of college. I loved it and would have loved to take more classes. But, I had one more year of classes before graduation with a degree in engineering. I loved my major, so ditching that was not an option.
My choice was a simple one. It was not feasible to get a minor in women's studies or even to take more classes (senior year of engineering classes was rough). I have accepted that I am privileged enough to be in my chosen field, and therefore should go into that field and help make changes from within.
By recognizing your privilege, you are already doing a lot. With your privilege, you are able to enter spaces that others in the feminist movement cannot. You are able to reach out to people who would not want to hear it from other feminists. You have great opportunities to make change. And even if it is small change, like talking to your friends and family, it is still good.
"That's what privilege really allows, I think, the luxury of ignorance."
Indeed. Great post, thank you for sharing your experience.
I'm 23, white, male, middle class (though my dad's a lawyer) and also the former victim of a sexual assault too. I'm glad to know you're out there working through this too. I hope it helps you to know you're a part of a significant group of white males that take feminism and privilege very seriously. It certainly helped me that I wasn't treading on uncharted or rarely-crossed earth for my demographic.
Just a note of input: My college didn't offer a women's studies concentration of any sort until after I graduated last year. I realized, as soon as they announced it that I'd give anything to have gotten an opportunity to be a women's studies major. If I started college again today, I would do so. This is not to say that you should or should not, but know that it is not ridiculous. Male women's studies majors can offer a distinctive voice in their professional worlds (both within and without academia) and it will certainly set you apart from the crowd in your career endeavors.
You know it's odd that I've only met one other admitted male victim of sexual abuse, and I met him only a few days ago, when it came up in class. That 10 years or so without knowing anybody similar to myself was pretty isolating.
But yes, I'm one of a few men in my class, even if I am the only one with my particular identities. I wonder sometimes if I would have been so involved with this class had I not been abused, as if the lens through which I perceive the world had been permanently skewed by the experience. To a point I think it has, but I was always a meek child (probably the reason why I was targeted) and it doesn't really matter, does it? It doesn't do me any good to daydream about not carrying this around with me.
I don't think it's the reactions of others, ultimately. When I transferred to my middle-of-the-road state college from a community school, like most kids at one point or another I was poised to become a Philosophy major. I had really, really loved my first Ethics class, I couldn't stop thinking about it. So I decided I'd go into Philosophy.
But the further I got into the discipline the more archaic it got and the further I got from the sort of thinking I enjoyed. I wasn't particularly adept at understanding more technical aspects of the art (epistemology, etc.) so I decided that I was just in for exasperation if I continued, and I shuffled over to Poli Sci.
ANYWAY, I'm at the point now with WS that I was in with Ethics way back when. But this feels better. I don't have to be a genius / rock star to make a difference in WS, and it looks to contain a whole lot of ethical considerations, which is my bread and butter. Plus there's the sexual assault angle, which I am very close to, and I think if I ended up doing something in that area I could really find a purpose.
"I don't have to be a genius / rock star to make a difference in WS,'
Careful here. being a male ally in your on campus group or by becoming a women's studies major will come with a new set of responsibilities and challenges.
First, don't underestimate the level of difficulty WS can present at its hire level. The amount of critical self reflection and acedemic knowledge required can be staggering. You may enjoy it more but it doesn't mean you don't have to be a 'genius'.
Also, you may be the only or one of few male identified persons on your on campus group. Student newspapers, administrators, ect will love to jump to you for interviews or comments. Remeber in most cases you are ally and should not be the centre of attention. Listen careful, tread carefully, and offer yourself as a resource and don't take the lead unless its is decided that on that issue your identity will help the cause for the group.
"Also, you may be the only or one of few male identified persons on your on campus group. Student newspapers, administrators, ect will love to jump to you for interviews or comments. Remeber in most cases you are ally and should not be the centre of attention. Listen careful, tread carefully, and offer yourself as a resource and don't take the lead unless its is decided that on that issue your identity will help the cause for the group."
I've quoted the above because it goes somewhat with the point I want to make. A lot of people have been saying use your privilege. I think we should always be very careful about using privilege granted to us. Do not blindly accept the advantages of privilege. If you find yourself in a position where you are given preference over someone on the sole basis of privilege and you can do something about it, then do something about it. You should be on the look out for these situations. Think, if you are offered a position of preference on this basis and you can show what is happening to those offering you that privilege you should show them.
In the quoted text the situation refers to feminist issues. There will very likely be women who have greater knowledge than you on feminist issues, since you are new to WS. If asked to give comment, deferring to a feminist with more experience is the right thing to do.
In summary, denying yourself privilege is the right thing to do if it removes privilege on the whole.
Caveat 1: Do not deny yourself an opportunity to archive/shine where you might reasonably considered the best candidate.
Caveat 2: If denying yourself the opportunity simply defers the benefits of privilege to another member of the privileged class a rethink may be required.
I will certainly try and avoid becoming the locus of attention. Recognizing privilege is always a daily struggle. I certainly worry about, say, going into academia and having to, for lack of a better word, "compete" in the field, and perhaps being given preference because of my identities.
One of the things that I noticed in my class was that I have a tendency to intellectualize a lot of things, and thus will sometimes "play the expert", and dominate discussions. That is definitely something I need to be conscious of moving forward, as it could present a problem. I think I have, and I hope I can continue to have, people in my life who can keep me honest and call me on my bullshit. But when it comes to my personal experiences I am very conscious that I can only really speak for myself and I try to make that clear.
Anyway, it was certainly a poor choice of words on my part. What I should have said in fewer words was that I don't mean to downplay the complexity or the rigor of the discipline, but I feel far more comfortable with the material and the aims of what WS has to offer me than I have with my previous pursuits, and I feel like I have a purpose with it.
Geez, I really feel dumb after having posted that "rock star" quote. Sorry y'all. I have a serious case of the Bidens.
Don't feel too guilty about it. One of the good things about feminism is that everybody has a part to play. In that respect you don't need to be a rock star.
Andrea Dworkin stinks. i disagree with all of the comments of hers that you quoted. She does not get to make you feel badly about yourself for who you are, if you yourself haven't taken any of the negative actions (as opposed to statuses) that she suggests "evil men" do.
She was the ultimate sex-negative feminist and advanced a lot of harmful theories about the non-inclusion of men and the criminalization of pornography, and I don't think you should let her define what feminism is to you.
Just as I have made my way and found my own feminism, so can you, and you're totally allowed to skip her in the canon. Feminism is the striving to make women equal to men in our society, and as long as you're doing that, you're doing it.
I hope that you continue to heal, and that you feel more included. There is a place for us as men at the feminist table.
DoGooderLawyer,
I have to wonder if you see the bitter irony here. You (a male) just declared a revolutionary and influential female author fundamentally wrong about feminism. You (a male) conspicuously ignore the Dworkin-related remarks of every poster that preceded you and exclusively address the other male. You (a male) declare her completely irrelevant to feminism. You misquote her. Badly. And for your final demonstration of your own sense of entitlement, you grant permission to another male to ignore her.
Do you see your arrogance? You, a male, enter a feminist space and re-define feminism expressly so you don't have to feel bad about yourself. The privilege you enjoy is breathtaking; we see that pesky, self-serving sense of entitlement to appropriate any and every and all things female that Dworkin identified and Solanas could no longer forgive.
I addressed the diarist, who is male, and talking about how he feels as a male about Andrea Dworkin. If I had commented on some of the other comments and ignored them, that would have been ridiculous, but I didn't, I addressed myself to the diarist.
I, a male feminist, enter a feminist space, knowing that I don't agree with every piece of feminist (or progressive, or anti-racist) literature I've ever read, and that there are many feminisms. Mine does not include Andrea Dworkin as I find her to be hateful, anti-sex, and divisive. Clearly, what the diarist has read from her has hurt him so deeply as to inspire this diary. Thus, I told him that that are many other feminisms out there besides hers, and yes, he can ignore her.
I maintain that just because I am a male does not mean that I cannot critique certain feminist authors. Clearly, those who disagree with me should absolutely do so, and explain why, but my genitalia does not make my opinion invalid in a feminist space.
I think the idea is, in normal space, no one should be ignored. And to ignore someone while expecting not to be ignored yourself is not something that everyone can get away with. So to say that AD can be ignored is sort of... an ugly way of saying that you don't agree with her.
I do also think that it is worth reading things that you don't agree with, that really push your bounds, as long as you have the emotional strength to listen to what is being said. What would we feminists do at all if everyone ignored what they didn't agree with?
Also, if you read "getting off; the end to masculinity and pornography" by robert jenkins (I think) it's great! and makes sense of a lot of the anti-porn biz. Makes you never wanna see the stuff again.
Thanks for the rec on Jenkins, I appreciate it, and your nuanced comment.
You could critique feminist authors. But you didn't.
"She stinks" is a schoolyard insult, not the withering intellectual critique you purport to defend.
"Feel free to ignore her" is not a literate explanation of why she deserves schoolyard insults.
You silenced her, trivialized her, diminished her, reduced her to absolutely irrelevant.
Dworkin loved men intensely - just look at her marriage to John Stoltenberg. Considering how often she explicitly described this, I cannot understand how someone who actually enjoys any familiarity with any of her work could come to any other conclusion. All claims aside. (For that matter, she loved sex, too.)
The diarist referenced one of her most painfully simple speeches. Frankly, you yourself might find yourself personally squirming under that same uncompromising inquiry: If you're such an egalatarian feminist, why are you here telling us? If you share these feminist goals, why aren't you out there telling other males? Because let's face it: most of them simply will not listen to us.
Any more than you will listen to Andrea Dworkin, I guess.
Drawing from Marilyn French, in "The War Against Women," - why don't you start a men's feminist movement? Why do you feel the need to come here and correct me, to set me straight about trauma / rape / feminism? Or did you both just completely miss the part where I described my own life of trauma that begins in childhood and continued until only two years ago? Are you really receptive to female input, or do you just think you are?
Your genitalia is representative of the entitlements and privileges in life which you enjoy and I (and Dworkin) do not, and never will. It is your personal ticket out of vulnerability that was exploited in both Dworkin and myself - her, until the day she died (of being raped. Did you know.) Are you questioning the connection beetween male genitalia, the fact that males are typically bigger and stronger than females and the fact that males make females suffer for it every second of every day everywhere on earth? Do you honestly call yourself a feminist while treating that reality as the subject of debate?
One of the privileges you enjoy because you are male that I and Dworkin do not is the ability to barge in and decide who gets credibility and who gets ignored. Obviously you must be unaware that Dworkin herself was the victim of multiple rapes, assault, trauma, abuse, domination, battery, prostitution. If you were aware of that fact, and as concerned with the emotional well-being of the diarist as your defense implies, maybe you wouldn't have been so cavalier about publicly blowing her off.
And speaking as a victim myself, the diarist would probably find a lot of solidarity in Dworkin if he could relinquish the privilege of not having to feel vulnerable, and give her a chance.
I personally found Dworkin when she was referenced by abuse recovery authors. She said the same things Lundy Bancroft and Charlie Donaldson do. If she's such a wingnut, why do abuser-treatment specialists echo her?
Twisty Faster is my hero.
I can't find anything that says Andera Dworkins died as the result of being raped. Where Did you find that?
When I found Andrea Dworkin, I was searching for healing. The wounds that sex work and rape inflict on the psyche are as severe as returning from war. The fact that no abuse recovery author addressed the systemic monstrosity that formed the fabric of my daily life only made my situation seem like a ridiculous cosmic aberration.
Andrea Dworkin sounds just like me when the PTSD isn't plunging me back into that waking nightmare. If she stinks, that's because the truth stinks. It can stink, and still be the truth. She saw the world with every scrap of illusion ripped away. Prostitutes lose the tiny luxury of illusion - our reality quite literally rips it away. She saw what I saw, what all prostitutes confront: each individual male's personal ugliness extrapolated and multiplied into the universal expansiveness of inglorious patriarchal monstrosity.
No single raindrop thinks it is to blame for the flood. Andrea Dworkin dared to identify hatred towards women as a trait, then recognized that trait's existence as commonality in males. And she had the audacity to directly blame each and every individual male for ultimately saturating the world with misogyny.
Seriously, it discourages me that even here, Dworkin is identified as way-out-there radical. Here of all places she should be considered perfectly normal. She should, in fact, serve as a standard of normalcy. A new, healthier normalcy.
Furthermore, if it's accusations of misandry you want to level, Valerie Solanas makes Dworkin's uncompromising statements of fact sound like wishy-washy simpering. I've discovered that when I'm in the throes of trauma-induced misandry and androphobia, Valerie Solanas sounds exactly like me. It was uncanny to hear myself almost verbatim, predated by twenty years. Even then, neither Solanas nor myself are actually warmongering vessels of hatred. It is impossible to express just how much of SCUM is the inarticulate sound of a creature in relentless pain. I recognize those sounds.
Food for thought, perhaps, for the privileged white male whose rebellion against relinquishing even the tiniest portion of his male privilege (specifically, acknowleging that it exists) threatens the solidarity he has begun to find and ultimately started this conversation.
Much as I might feel where Dworkin comes from (and as much as you might admonish me for claiming that), I disagree with your basic assertions.
I will be blunt. I find it telling that in your commentary so far you have neglected to acknowledge what I identified as probably the most significant aspect of my identity, which is my victimhood. I will not deny that my other identities confer to me a degree of privilege. A relatively lesser amount given my lifelong struggles with confidence and mental illness, but a significant privilege nonetheless.
Nevertheless, your failure to acknowledge that seems especially telling of your (and to a lesser extent, Dworkin's) misandrist worldview. Are the coexisting identities of "male" and "victim" so untenable? From what little I've read of the philosophy it certainly seem to indicate such. Gender can only be the most important consideration in a misandrist / misogynist worldview. I can only imagine how difficult it must be to even consider that you and I have something very deep held in commonality.
But we are both victims. And I do sympathize, and I wish you to be spared of the pain that you feel just as I wish my own away. But hear me when I say this: Your misguided sanctimony is meaningless to me. Do not deign to use sexual assault as a cudgel against me, I have been cut deeper than you will ever reach. When you speak of the "inarticulate sound of a creature in relentless pain" I know exactly, exactly what that is, and it is not an excuse or a license, not in the slightest, for you to oppress me. I know what it is to feel boundless rage against the universe and the people in it.
But it is precisely because of my hurt that I was able to ignore my fear and my anger, because the world does not revolve around me, and the world does not and should not contort itself around my feelings, even when my feelings get so large and they consume me. That "me me me what about ME" is a privilege. There are other people here on earth who have the same hurts as I do and they deserve to be healed more than I deserve to have my hate validated. I cannot delude myself into thinking that this is Star Wars and there is some grand struggle with clearly delineated opposing sides, nor can I delude myself into claiming knowledge of "innate properties" of people.
The day I place blame for rape at the feet of an entire group, that is the day the clock counts down to when I end up throwing blame in the face of a victim. When I do that, I am raping them again, just as Dworkin rapes me again with her ham-fisted language, just as you rape me again by bringing your self-righteous bullshit to this discussion. Again, I see the truth of Dworkin's piece (not that men are responsible for rape, but they are responsible for nothing being done about it, which is not exactly the same) and I'm sorry you've suffered as you have. But I wanted to throw this out there so that if you're going to parade your ideology of violation and hatred around, you'll know what it means. Ignore it if you wish, fuck it, you can celebrate my victimization as some grand fucking universal karmic correction if you're so inclined, but you can't feign ignorance.
a few things:
1. identifying first and foremost with victimhood-- a lot of people feel this way because the privileged parts of identity are often normalized so you are taught not to see them or identify with them overtly. I think as you continue to read up on these issues, you will find that the first part of the battle is confronting what are the truly significant parts of your identity. Certainly, being a survivor of sexual assault will factor in to you life, but does it really shape your life more than being... American (if you are) and living in the US (if you do) does? Who can say, but you see my point, right?
maybe read "becoming an ally" by anne bishop
2. I know you said you have trouble thinking outside of binaries... and I get that. But the world is not divided between oppressors and oppressed. You can have a foot in both groups. Male and Victim are perfectly tenable. I don't think anyone was saying that. Also, don't get lost in words like 'privilege' and 'oppression' which, said over and over, tend to lose distinct meaning. Read up on how systems of oppression work and interlock, and I think much of this will make more sense.
3. A lot of things seem harsh the first time around, but after digestion and a second reading, you may realize that there is truth in it. So keep reading, keep thinking, keep on keepin' on.
It's pretty simple.
All men are not rapists, and Dworkin never said they were.
All rape victims are not female, and Dworkin never said they were.
99.99% of rapists are male.
If you're not one of the rapists, why don't you get out there and stop them? Why are you telling ME who does and doesn't get raped, who does and doesn't rape, who is and is not to blame? What do you think I can do about ANY of it?
It's unfortunate you read my description of yourself and myself as otherwise-allies through the lens of some sort of attack. (In all honesty, I've never once had any male respond any other way, at least the first time. I don't know why it happens, just that it does.) No one here thinks you're a rapist, no one here thinks you bear any fault for what happened to you. The only functional difference between you and I is: now you're big and strong and they'll listen to you. I'll never be big and strong and they might listen to me but only if you make them. Why can't we be a team? Can't you see anything other than me (us) versus you (them)?
THAT is what Dworkin said.
She said so, in that particular speech, in other speeches, in books, over and and over and over. Almost verbatim. If you're on our side... be on our side already. There's nothing ham-fisted about it: just because you FEEL accused doesn't mean Dworkin was accusing you of anything except perhaps failure to empathize, failure to see it on your own, failure to act and actually be on our side. Yes, OUR side - your side and my side and her side. Those are tiny, tiny failures - as small as my failures to recognize my own white privilege, right?
Point of reference: Back in the days of Some-Of-My Best-Friends-Are-Black, all white people did not necessarily believe in the inferiority of black people, but until the ones who didn't believe stopped cooperating with the ones who did, they were all to blame as far as the black people were concerned.
And why should this be different, again? This is actually worse, considering how many men were victims of it as children.
Never read Andrea Dworkin I might check her out.
I do know a prostitute from my work as a volunteer with NOW and Planned Parenthood. She is actually a nice lady and doesn’t seem at all bitter etc. Of course she chooses to be a prostitute (for whatever reason) I suppose if you were somehow forced into it that could be pretty hellish and you might meet a lot of the worst kind of men, however you have to admit it’s not guys with their shit together that are using prostitutes (with some exceptions for the naive) it’s sexists, perverts, the crips and hells angels none of whom are working to end patriarchy as the OP is.
I love Andrea Dworkin!
Anyways, I think you need to look at the two issues apart from one another.
1. You, as a white upper middle class man.
2. You, as someone who was sexually abused as a child.
They are both part of your past and upbringing, but the issues attached to each of those things are very different. As a child, you were seen differently by the world then you are now. I'm sure what happened to you in the past continues to have a horrific negative impact on your day to day life, but the statistical chances of you being sexually abused by another man RIGHT NOW as an ADULT MAN are VERY, VERY LOW. It is not impossible, but more likely than not you will not be sexually abused by another man now that you are grown up.
However, if you were a woman your statistical chances for being sexually abused by a man would still remain high throughout your adult life.
You WERE in a vulnerable state. You still ARE a victim who went through something horrific. But you are no longer in as vulnerable of a state as you were as a child.
Andrea Dworkin didn't believe in gender by the way. Call yourself whatever gender you wish. Its not important in the grand scheme of things.
What is important is that you go out and RAISE HELL for the people who sexually abuse women and children. You don't have to do anything illegal, but stage protests, condemn your male friends when they buy/view sexist pornography, be loud about your views!
Feeling guilty does absolutely nothing for anyone, raising hell for the people who sexually abuse others does!
Best of luck to you!
That's something that I've thought about as I've gone through the process of exploring my volunteering options vis a vis sexual violence. What I've been pushed towards, and what I think I'd feel most comfortable with, is participating in a survivor's panel that gives presentations around campus, sharing our stories and providing info about sex assault. But it's occurred to me that perhaps I wouldn't do much good in that capacity.
Diversity is a fair goal but what purpose would my being, in all likelihood, the only male-identified person on the panel serve? You're right in that the odds of men being raped are minuscule at best compared to women (which isn't to say it does not happen - I think the possibility of it being more frequently encountered in the gay community has been raised, though I am not sure of the veracity of that claim) I have never met a man who has admitted to being raped as an adult. I have met a few recently, however, who admit to having been molested or abused as children, which seems to be the norm as far as victimized men go.
So what purpose would I serve in a volunteer capacity? I don't think I'm in a place where I can be an effective direct advocate, attending to hotlines and interfacing with victims shortly after their experiences - there are too many triggers involved. I don't know if I'll ever be that strong. But if I go around sharing my story, what purpose would that serve? I do recall the feeling of isolation that came along with having to deal with assault internally, alone. I would think that is a common experience among victimized men, and perhaps that is a feeling that could be alleviated by my presence? I don't know. If the purpose of the panel is prevention then I think there is very little reason for me to be there. They could just as easily rattle off statistics from a book in my stead.
Regardless I feel as though I should be doing something. Part of it is for my own benefit, I should say. I feel like if I participate in these things it will hurt less, or at least help me to handle it more effectively. One of the big draws of the panel for me is that it is a support system as well as a means of supporting others.
Blunt: Andrea Dworkin is essentially regarded as a laughable loon by the small mainstream audience that has even heard of her. Among casual feminists, she is recognized as a generally misguided woman who spouted divisive, hateful, and unreasonable rhetoric. Even here, in one of the most hardcore feminist groups in the world, she is regarded as a very radical feminist. Andrea Dworkin is wrong, on almost every point. She is the Cotton Mather of the feminist movement, and she has not the credibility or intelligence to make you feel bad about anything.
It is likely that were I to delve further into the writings and oratory of Dworkin I would find many things to vehemently disagree with, but I do not think that she is so wrong in this particular speech, at least in regard to her fundamental assertion.
Actually, I think if you read more of Dworkin's writings you would really like her. Have you read "Intercourse" yet? I admit, I haven't read everything she has written, but I know that she did write/speak about child sexual abuse.( I'll get back to you on that one!)
With regards to your previous reply to me.
The panel idea sounds like a good one. I mean, I am not you and I do NOT want you to go through something that might cause you to relive the rape. So if you think that telling your story might cause you pain, don't do it.
With regards to the diversity thing, I don't really see it as a diversity thing at all. It is a panel for survivors of rape and you are a survivor of rape. Just because you are not a woman does not mean that your story is any less valuable to the overall story of rape. It may have happened in the past, but when it happened you were just as vulnerable as all of the other survivors.
Statistics from a book are not nearly as powerful as real people speaking. When people can connect a social problem with a real person, it becomes more "real" to them. If it is a panel, can't they also ask you questions in a Q&A session? A book cannot answer people's individual questions!
If the hotline would be too triggering for you, don't do it.
I guess beyond that, confront people when they do things that upset you. If people you know are saying/doing things that are making light of rape, confront them! Its hard, but when people are confronted about their actions they tend to rethink them (especially if they are confronted by a friend). It may not seem like much, but it can be extremely powerful.
So yeah, good luck with the panel! Don't feel guilty, and don't give up!
I'll get back to you with more Dworkin stuff!
Thanks a lot. I'm interested in reading more Dworkin, but I might have to wait until I have support that I can bounce my reactions off of. That speech rendered me quite sullen for about a week.
thank you for an incredibly thoughtful post. Perhaps you will find this useful:
from two books, becoming an ally, by anne bishop, and teaching for diversity and social justice.
Allies are distinguished by several characteristics:
•Sense of connection with other people, all other people;
•Grasp of the concept of social structures and collective responsibility;
•Lack of individualistic stance and ego, although they have a strong sense of self;
•Sense of progress and change
•Understanding of they own process of learning; their realistic sense of their own power;
•Their grasp of ‘power-with’ as an alternative to ‘power-over’
•Honesty, openness, and lack of shame about their own limitations;
•Knowledge and sense of history;
•Acceptance of struggle;
•Understanding that good intentions do not matter if there is no action against oppression;
•knowledge of their own roots.
“When learning about yourself as an oppressor, the experience is by definition hidden from you, because part of the process of becoming a member of an oppressor group is to be cut off from the ability to identify with the experience of the oppressed. It is this lack of empathy, this denial that anyone is hurt (at least, anyone viewed as fully human) that makes oppression possible. When the oppression is not part of your own experience, you can only understand it through hearing others’ experience, along with a process of analysis and drawing parallels… understanding one’s own position as an oppressor, without being completely immobilized, also requires a balance between understanding oneself as an individual and as part of a collective reality… with so little understanding of ourselves as part of a collective entity, it becomes very difficult to figure out our own responsibility for patterns larger than ourselves.” 112-113
-Bishop Becoming an Ally
Characteristics of an Ally:
•feels good about own social group membership; is comfortable and proud of own identity
•takes responsibility for learning about own and target group heritage, culture, and experience, and how oppression works in everyday life
•listens to and respects the perspectives and experiences of target group members
•acknowledges unearned privileges received as a result of agent status and works to eliminate or change privileges into rights that target group members also enjoy
•recognized that unlearning oppressive beliefs and actions is a lifelong process, not a single event, and welcomes each learning opportunity
•is willing to take risks, try new behaviors, act in spite of own fear and resistance from other agents
•takes care of self to avoid burn-out
•acts against social injustice out of belief that it is in her/his own self-interest to do so
•is willing to make mistakes, learn from them, and try again
•is willing to be confronted about own behavior and attitudes and consider change
•is committed to taking action against social injustice in own sphere of influence
•understands growth and response patterns and when she/he is on a learning edge
•understands the connections among all forms of social injustice
•believes that he or she can make a difference by acting and speaking out against social injustice
•knows how to cultivate support from other allies.
-Adams et al Teaching for Diversity and Social Justice
Thanks for the recommendations, in this comment and in your others. I've been given a lot to think about!
KvP:
I would strongly recommend you start with John Stoltenberg instead. You'll probably relate to him a lot better, for one thing, and he is not confrontational like Dworkin. Also...
John Stoltenberg is Andrea Dworkin's husband.
Yes, husband.
Quite a contradiction for a man-hating banshee. Try "Refusing to be a Man" if you can find it.
It's not surprising Dworkin is too intense for you; any victim will have difficulty reading what she wrote. She refused to allow the luxury of euphamism to soften the reality of our situation. Our situation, you and me and her. All three of us. Yes, Andrea Dworkin wasn't just talking TO you, she was talking about you, too.
Speaking as one victim to another, I still cannot read more than a few paragraphs at a time before I am overwhelmed with rage and hate and pain. Dworkin isn't raping me, she's merely reminding me of being raped. Projecting responsibility onto her or blaming her in some roundabout way is a disservice to us all.
The difficult thing is, if you can avoid that knee-jerk reaction, you would see that Dworkin was talking directly to you in so many writings: she had a LOT to say about abuse of children, especially children like you. She explained the connection between the abuse of a helpless child who grows up to be a man, how his maleness offers him an option between being helpless and vulnerable (too small and weak) or strong and powerful (an adult human male.) She explained that it is that connection - so many males as children were abused who as adults live with silent trauma is left untreated. These are the ones who intend no harm, but these otherwise "natural allies" cannot bear identifying and reliving their own trauma by acknowledging the ongoing abuse of women. So the nightmare drags on, for us. She emphasized the importance of reaching out, of ending the stigma, for its human value - the stigma enforces your silence, stops you from speaking against the patriarchy that wounded us both.
Incidentally, the speech you linked to explicitly addresses you, not me. She asks you if you are so sympthetic, why tell her? She is only a woman. I am only a woman. We can do nothing. We are still helpless; we did not grow up to become men. We grew up and we are still helpless and powerless. You have all the power; other males would listen to you. They will not listen to us. Why aren't you telling them?
And by the way, Andrea Dworkin cannot rape anyone. She died five years ago, of myocardia contracted from being horrifically attacked and raped in 1999.
I appreciate what you're saying here, and I'm sorry that I came out so angry before. But surely you have to understand what it is that I meant by saying that Dworkin (and you yourself) had re-victimized me. Baring your experiences to people makes you very vulnerable, and while people are not often re-victimized physically, the humiliation of assault IS often revisited by people who belittle their experiences, question their accounts or their intentions, etc. It's one of the reasons why rape goes unreported so often - The "criminal justice" system is set up to be cruel to victims. But this is something I assume you know.
In my post I alluded to having my manhood placed above my victimhood by others, and being asked "why didn't you do something about it?" as though the mere fact of my being male was somehow supposed to be an adequate protection against childhood abuse that I stupidly did not invoke, or that I should "be a man" and "suck it up" now. Which is what I heard from Dworkin, intentionally or not - I am placed on the outside of victimhood and the inside of manhood, and the latter trumps the former. I would very much like to read Dworkin's ruminations on childhood abuse, but here she is placing me in a difficult position that you have efficiently sketched.
Ultimately however I doubt that I can wield much power with regard to changing the minds of my fellow men. Perhaps there is some credibility that I am assigned simply for having male genitalia, but beyond that there is a culture of masculinity that one has to adhere to before being admired and feared and heard. I don't fit into this culture. I cry often and publicly. I have long hair. I am generally meek and I've always gravitated more towards the qualities that girls were expected to exude - conflict-averting, cooperative, empathetic, emotional. Put me in a room with average boys my age and I stand out in the way I present myself, and that puts me at a disadvantage, because I'm not immediately seen as part of a group they can interface with and consider. I'm not what they want to be, so why would they listen to me?
Beyond that, I think the stigma attached to my abuse is another complicating factor. There is that idea that men are not victimized, so if a man is victimized, is he really a man? I've encountered this uncertainty my entire adult life from all sorts of different people. People don't expect to see raped men and thus they don't really know how to react or how to categorize me. My parents, regrettably, never knew how to deal with me, so they didn't and they just went on as if I had never been hurt. To say I'm a man and therefore I have power is too simple, unfortunately. I'm a freakish, damaged boy, easily separated from the pack and marginalized because of the trauma I suffered (it's not the culture that ain't right, it's the boy!). I'm not Jack Welch or Barack Obama, some potent figure that demands consideration. People want to look away, and they do. I don't know how to get the message out but I'm going to try through this speaker's bureau thing in the Fall. I want to get men unstuck but I'm not sure if I have the power even in a few cases. I'm one shaggy man against a titanium web of reinforced-yet-comfortable tradition.
As for Dworkin having a husband, it does not surprise me actually. I did not take her stridency as having to go with celibacy or lesbianism or cat-hoarding any of that stuff wrongly associated with radical feminism. After all, there is no shortage of men in relationships who have stormy and problematic rapport with women. Why should their female analogues be any different? But I do realize that Dworkin is not so easily pigeon-holed into misandry, nor are you, despite your handle. Again I apologize for writing out of turn and in anger before.
I forgot to add that I am of course saddened to hear of Dworkin's death. She died far too soon.
Ok, I finally found something about Andera's cause of death. I could find nothing that directly linked her heart condition to her rape in 1999. Though she did personally blaim it on the date rape drug,
Myocarditis is caused by bacteria or an infection.
I think it's pretty irresponsible to make that connection, it obfuscates the truth of her death and makes it a rallying point of dubious origins.
Yes, we can really around her as a feminist, as divisive as she may or may not be, but let it be because we respect her and her contribution to our discourse, not because of what you seem to think might have happened, or what she might have thought happened, as I remember Andera was not a doctor.
She was a wonderful writer, though flawed as anyone else.
And to the OP:
All I can personally suggest is to make sure you yourself remember your privilege, don't feel guilty, as that is an inherently privileged thing, but stand next to your feminist friends and compatriots and remember always service to the community and your groups is always, always accepted and that is a great way to fight the good fight so to speak.
Some of Dworkin's last writing referenced the incessant infections and sickness she suffered from after the 1999 attack; her memorial, as well as some of the writing of her spouse John Stoltenberg, also reference this. Myocardia describes infection of the cardiac tissue and usually results from infection advancing into the bloodstream.
It's impossible to make a direct connection between the 1999 attack and her passing in 2005. She died of an infection that she didn't have before she was raped and couldn't get rid of afterward. Did she contract it from that rape? Maybe we ought to ask the rapists who drugged her, cut her and brutalized her. As for rallying points, I personally could care less. Andrea Dworkin made the world a better place. The fact is, she's dead and the people who raped her are probably still alive and well.
Splendid. Thank goodness no anonymous, unprosecuteable males will ever face the possibility their unknown names will be tarnished with the accusation of manslaughter as well as rape.