Archive for March, 2009

What has weed done for you?

As somebody who spent a few years in college doing radio production, which fostered a weird fascination with public service announcements (and how shockingly ineffective they can be at speaking to the lived experiences of the target audience), I was interested in a recent anti-marijuana ad entitled, “Accomplishments.” This ad is part of the “Above the Influence” series (National Youth Anti-Drug Media Campaign), and it features the tag line, “What has weed done for you?”

The “Accomplishments” ad presents a quick series of “next day” stories – experiences that seem enjoyable/good/positive, or at least benign, in the moment, but later, upon further reflection (and in this case, no longer under the influence of drugs), seem disturbing and regrettable. Each actor blissfully describes the troubling results of their marijuana use (with corresponding backdrop), seemingly unaware of the moral implications of their actions. Viewers are left to contemplate the apparent disconnect between  one’s values and his or her actions under the influence of drugs.

Straight from the script:

(“What has weed done for you?”)

“I stole from my little sister.”

“I got straight D’s.”

“I left my ex-girlfriend twenty-seven messages last night.”

“I made my mother cry.”

“I let people draw on me.”

“I ditched my friends and let them find their own way home.”

First, I tend to associate these stories with the use of alcohol and other drugs besides marijuana (or, let’s be honest, a little old-fashioned stupidity). And that’s not merely a generalization, as in, “I could imagine someone doing something like that while drunk.” I have heard and witnessed countless stories like the ones above in which alcohol was a major player – and I don’t think I’m alone on that. I don’t have direct experience with marijuana (or any significant experience with alcohol), so first-hand accounts are out, but if this ad resembled the vast majority of negative marijuana stories I’ve heard from others, the script would look something like this:

“What has weed done for you?”

“I ate an entire bag of animal crackers.”

“I read Nietsche… and understood it.”
(which arguably could qualify as positive or negative)

“I sat on my couch all day” (a la “Pete’s Couch”).

I do like the “Accomplishments” technique, though, to interrogate the stories we tell that feature drug use and abuse. It seems to me that the best way to reach people with an anti-drug campaign is to open up dialogue about real-life experiences (and promote alternatives to drug use), not to tell the audience what to do. To put it simply, these campaigns ought to meet audiences where they are – i.e. not where politicians (or parents) think they are, which runs the risk, as we’ve seen with countless PSAs, of alienating the audience by treating them like they’re stupid. And if we can interject some critical thinking/reflection into the storytelling process, during which we consider what experiences of drug use/abuse mean to each of us individually, even better!

Talking about the harmful effects of a drug on the body may inspire some folks to quit (or never start), if they are especially conscious of their physical health. But in the moment, especially if a drug is really “working” for the individual, health concerns will often be set aside. The same could be said for any use of a scare tactic – i.e. the claim that using drugs could lead to some sort of catastrophic accident or traumatic event, such as a car accident, loss of a loved one, or being arrested. It is unlikely to inspire significant, lasting change in behavior. (Scare tactics may, however, draw attention to an issue, which can then be explored through other, more enlightened approaches.)

The messages that do get across to people, especially teens, are those that 1) focus on immediate quality of life issues, (e.g. relationships with friends and family, social capital, and a stable and positive sense of identity), and 2) are realistic. With regard to the “Accomplishments” PSA, I believe they hit close to home on issues that young people care about, but they failed to present a realistic picture of the effects of marijuana use (or at least conflated the effects of marijuana use/abuse with the effects of abusing alcohol and other drugs).

I have helped plan and facilitate several educational programs on making healthy choices about alcohol use, but the most memorable is an event from college that we called “Drinking Stories.” The event featured participants in the local chapter of Alcoholics Anonymous who shared their stories of addiction with a captive audience of mostly freshmen and sophomore students (one of the largest crowds I ever saw at such a program on campus). The program was very effective, and it had positive reviews from those in attendance, because it dealt with real-life experiences from people who know. It wasn’t propaganda. It didn’t embellish, over-simplify, or caricature. It didn’t need to.

I do see elements of this more honest and organic approach in the recent “Above the Influence” campaign, but clearly there is more work to be done. And perhaps larger social, political, and economic changes need to take place before we will really see honest, organic, and effective public education about alcohol and drug abuse on such a large scale.

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Other “Above the Influence” ads below. Please feel free to comment.

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Ads against hard drugs are so much easier:

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Response to Julian

Update (03.21.09): I appreciate any feedback readers would be willing to share on the proposed disclaimer below. This message would appear on individual posts related to feminism. I could also develop a similar statement for bio pages and others. Please feel free to comment at the bottom of this page.

DISCLAIMER: This post is rooted in a feminist/pro-feminist analysis, and as a result, it may lead readers to assume certain things about me politically and personally (e.g. that I am living, have lived, and will continue to live a responsible, pro-feminist lifestyle). The fact is, I committed a crime in January 2007, sexually violating a woman who was under my care as a resident advisor in college. I ask that you keep this information in mind when evaluating my comments in this post, as well as if you engage me in dialogue. Please read this post (listed as “Because you deserve to know” on the “All Posts” page) for more information.

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Update (03.21.09): Follow-up comments from Julian Real available here.

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Original Post (03.20.09):

Below is my lengthy response to Julian Real’s post from last Saturday regarding my “return to the blogosphere.” I had hoped to provide a shorter version to make it more reader-friendly, and because the taste for my blood seems pretty thick right now (so, the less I say, the better, I imagine). But this is the best I can do for now to respond thoroughly and accurately to Julian’s questions, something I feel is important as I move forward responsibly in my life. I welcome your constructive feedback and questions here, and I encourage anyone who is interested in participating in Julian’s discussion to visit his site. Please keep in mind, though, no one is obligated to read, critique, respond, give a hoot, etc.

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Hi Julian,

Thank you for sharing your questions about my return to blogging and especially for asking about how I intend to hold myself accountable and live up to my own professed values. I appreciate you “calling me out” in general – I think it’s appropriate (and you’ve done a nice job of clarifying why in your comment to Valerie). But also, it is helpful for me to know what questions people have, particularly feminist or pro-feminist bloggers who have commented on my harmful (and hypocritical) actions.

One of the problems – and for the sake of your questions, let’s leave it at one for the moment – with my “Because you deserve to know” post from August 2008 is that I took what should have merely been an apology and a brief explanation of what I’m doing to make amends and turned it into a personal narrative. In other words, I wrote on my terms, rather than directly in response to the concerns of a community of feminists (or, for that matter, a loose network of feminists of all stripes whose only common bond is a reliable internet connection and a considerable amount of spare time). That was wrong.

Now, even as I am very critical of that piece of writing, I do believe that it was heartfelt, honest, and relevant to my personal transformation. But is it something that needed to be shared in that context? Absolutely not. It was offensive. And even if my struggles as a survivor of sexual abuse (and connections with anti-rape/anti-porn activism, research, and advocacy), my confusion about violating a woman, and the identity crisis that followed was of any significance to readers, it was the wrong time, given the post’s close proximity to my sentencing. Not to mention the fact that I was only beginning to understand the personal issues involved.

As I approach this piece of writing, then, I am pleased to have a structure with specific questions – it makes it less likely (though, let’s be honest, not impossible – just look at this intro!) that I will rush off all willy-nilly with little regard for what people actually want to know, and ultimately, offend readers. So, a quick note, and then I’ll get crackin’ on your questions.

I will attempt to provide thorough answers to your questions (and those of anyone else who would like to participate in this discussion), and I am willing to answer any follow-up questions. Obviously there may be questions I would prefer to discuss privately, and there are others I can’t or simply won’t answer. But in the interest of maintaining an open and honest dialogue, I will, at the very least, explain why I am not answering a particular question. As much as possible, I may simply ask that a question be rephrased. As always, I welcome your feedback and criticism.

[M]y surprise stems in part from there being no public statement on your blog about your release from jail and what has happened to you in the last several months, taking us through your decision to blog again. Can you understand why that might concern some of those you have been linked to in the blogosphere?

In my public statement last August, I committed to a hiatus from blogging until I have been “welcomed back into a community of feminists,” which was an inarticulate, potentially misleading, and passive way of saying that I wanted to re-establish a relationship of trust and mutual support with feminists (which, along with re-building other relationships, I have begun to do) before continuing to have a “public voice” on any range of subjects.Without this foundation, I worried that the attention and emotional energy I invested in blogging might divert from holding myself accountable to feminists (and women generally), as it did in the months between the time of my arrest (February 2008) and sentencing (August 2008). In fact, as I was mum on the issue at the time I started my blog in November 2007, you could say that blogging was always, to some degree, an “escape” from holding myself accountable. However, it developed into, as I later realized, a vehicle through which I could better get to know, think critically about, and fess up to my actions in the long run, while also figuring out how those actions fit into my life and what that means for me in the present moment.

(Not pressing issues for the feminist, or perhaps any other, blogosphere, I understand, but then I again, I don’t claim to have anything particularly important to say, or demand/ask that anyone read my blog.)

In short, I don’t buy the argument raised by Hugo, despite his apparent intimate knowledge of my experiences and personal transformation (or lack thereof) during the last several months, that because blogging once enabled me to evade accountability, it can never serve any other purpose. But maybe he’s right. Maybe all of this really is for show because I’m so desperate to gain favor with feminist communities. “That horse done left the barn?” Whatever shall I do?! Or maybe one would do well to save the impassioned, arrogant lecture for another day, perhaps after getting to know or even meeting one’s subject.

If blogging is preventing me, at this point in time, from being held accountable as a man who wants to live a pro-feminist lifestyle, or if it is in some way harming other people, then I welcome that feedback (gross generalizations aside). I believe, just as it allowed me to speak publicly about my crime and the circumstances surrounding it, that blogging will allow me to be engaged in dialogue with others, while also practicing critical self-reflection. I also believe it will help me, and perhaps others, understand my experiences in a way that transcends the dualistic tendencies evident in the vast majority of commentary on my case – tendencies I have certainly been guilty of applying in the past, as I will explain. Continuing as a blogger (assuming I do), while taking care of my personal responsibilities, depends largely on establishing and maintaining strong relationships with friends, family members, colleagues, critics, and helping professionals who can, among other things, call me out when I’m not learning from my mistakes.

And just so we’re on the same page, Julian, I include you (and other bloggers who are willing to engage me, at least in part, as something more than a stereotype) in this list. I do, however, respect and appreciate that your interest, as I understand it, is simply women’s safety and well-being. While you may accomplish it inadvertently, you are not pursuing this dialogue to help me per se, and that’s fine with me.

A quick note on recent posts. Recent additions to my blog include new posts on civil disobedience, school shootings, “McJournalism,” ROTC discrimination,  as well as several (5) articles from my college years (which I believe are all clearly identified as such). I understand that a few of these old articles (3) – those dealing with various forms of feminist or feminist-inspired justice work – struck up some conflict, implying that I was “back at it,” speaking on behalf of feminism/feminists (and in doing so, supposedly pretending that I’ve never acted in anti-feminist ways). The “speaking on behalf of” business is misleading to begin with – I’m not certain I have ever claimed to speak for feminism or feminists, emphasized my perspective as a man over women’s voices, etc. But that’s neither here nor there. The point is that I did not add this material to boast feminist credentials – after all, what would that accomplish, given the fact that these supposed credentials are clearly dated prior to my crime in January ‘07? Instead, I wanted to add some complexity to a story that has been twisted, often deliberately, to make for a simple, easy-to-digest spectacle. Also, with regard to the timing, the old articles just recently became available to me.

I have no intention of blogging about feminism in the future, unless invited to do so by feminists… and even then, I don’t think it’s that great of an idea.

(Note to bloggers: the “invitation” bit is to define parameters, not because I think I deserve such an invitation, not because I have some special insight into women’s concerns, not because I am counting down the days to some magical reunion, etc. So let’s hold off on the, “Can you believe what Kyle said?!” routine. Please and thank you.)

With regard to linking, I have added links recently to various websites and blogs of interest to me, and ideally, to my readers. I have also complied with requests from a few of these bloggers to remove links to their sites. I did not mean to imply any type of relationship or association with other bloggers by linking to their work – I am not, for instance, convinced that Cara at The Curvature and I are best buddies, or that we ought to be, or that she “endorses” my work. But that’s not the point. They perceived some level of association and were uncomfortable with it, so they asked that I remove links, which I did. And in at least one case, it was a repeat request – I did not keep a record of removal requests from last year and which links I removed, so I made the mistake of re-adding at least one link recently.

In general, I can’t help but feel that the territory disputes over whether or not a person is allowed to blog, what subjects a blogger is allowed to discuss, as well as which sites a blogger is allowed to link, are unnecessary and a huge drain on resources.  With all due respect to “policing” a movement, I guess I tend to fall back on the assumption that, in moments of contention, we disagree and critique, or we simply direct our finite energies in other directions, effectively ignoring the blogger in question and his or her writings.

And this is very likely, at least partially, male privilege talking. But it’s on my mind.

I cannot imagine we will ever all agree on precisely the rights and responsibilities of bloggers, or human beings in general. So the above proposal is inevitably a compromise. But such is the nature of human existence (i.e. we make compromises or, well, we fight bitterly and die) – I can’t imagine this is a news flash for anyone reading this post. I respect, for instance, Ren’s right to “dog” me on a weekly basis for allegedly returning to my uber-manipulative ways, if that’s how she likes to spend her free time. In turn, I will probably ignore her on a weekly basis. It’s a compromise.

I have seen many concerns expressed about my unwanted “return to the feminist blogosphere,” or my “return to blogging as a feminist voice,” which I believe gives me too much credit. For one, I don’t believe free speech is up for negotiation here. I am well aware that I have lost all credibility as a pro-feminist man – that’s no secret. So I fully expect that many feminists and pro-feminist men reading my new posts (again, none of these directly pertain to feminism) may dismiss my ideas outright. And that’s perfectly fine. Dismiss it, find something better to read. But I struggle with the notion that feminists and pro-feminist bloggers feel the need to banish me, or anyone, from the “feminist blogosphere.” Again, it seems like a waste of precious resources (e.g. time and energy). And also, the whole concept of banishment here seems to suggest that I just walked right in of my own volition – since my release last month, when did I knock on the door, and who let me in?

I don’t quite comprehend what banishment entails in this context, and I presume others are experiencing the same confusion since banishment from a particular ’sphere is so often conflated with banishment from the internet… and again, really? That’s the answer – banishing people from the internet? If it is so apparent that I truly am a monster, a narcissist, a perpetual (*insert simplistic label*), incapable of learning, growing, and engaging in any sort of redeeming personal transformation – I’ve seen this explicitly stated in countless places, but if you’re interested in the most indulgent if blissfully ignorant recent psychoanalysis, please see Hugo’s open letter -  then one could well assume that I pose no threat to the feminist blogosphere, or anyone else. I am, it would seem, nothing more than a punch line, a spectacle.

Also, I’m not so sure merely self-publishing on a blog, particularly with nothing so much as an attempt at speaking for or about feminism since my release, constitutes an intrusion into the feminist blogosphere. When did I try to sign up as a member of said blogosphere? When did I force anyone, or even ask anyone, to read my writings? And since August of last year, when I openly admitted to my crime, when have I made any attempt whatsoever to hide my wrongdoings and mislead anyone? When did I supposedly pretend that I never did anything wrong? When did I ask anyone to forgive me or forget the harm I’ve caused? When did I ask for, or imply that I am entitled to, your trust, acceptance, respect, and support? Again, I believe I’ve been given a little too much (or too little) credit.

I do appreciate the need for me to be held accountable, which is why I have not disregarded the recent round of criticism, or this line of questioning c/o Julian. What I would suggest, however, for the sake of everyone’s sanity, is that we continue with a few basic assumptions in mind. First, I will most likely live on this Earth for a fairly long period of time, and in the process, continue breathing, having thoughts, and interacting with other human beings in a variety of ways. I can sympathize with the torches and pitchforks, death threats, and all the rest, but let’s at least consider the possibility that I am not going to simply disappear, and in doing so, reinforce the perception that we as a society are clueless as to how to engage people who have made mistakes in the past (and who go on living, attempting to learn from those mistakes, and dare I say it, actually learn… it happens).

(Again, please consider interrogating the assumption that personal transformation can only occur when one disappears entirely from public view, being neatly reduced into the “offender” category, leaving the “non-offenders” in peace to make sense of things without the unpleasantness of cognitive dissonance. I am happy to leave feminist bloggers alone, and I believe I have as of late. But I will not go into hiding because my presence in any sort of public way causes you to have to think and occasionally challenge your assumptions.)

Secondly, the simple fact that I share my perspective with others does not mean that I am, or that I think I am, an expert or authority, or that my voice is more important than anyone else’s, or that I embody a particular political identity (e.g. feminist). I am a work in progress (and one with pretty significant progress left to go), and it is through my experiences over the last year or so, including my experiences in the almighty and heavily guarded blogosphere, that I have become much more in tune with this fundamental truth. This whole dilemma over me identifying with feminist politics, while having a decidedly anti-feminist act (even if an isolated one) in my past, is obviously difficult to accept. But it does not automatically mean I am posing, lying, manipulating, “trolling,” or some other convenient explanation when I publish something on my blog.

Are these acceptable assumptions with which to establish a common ground?

I do, as always, encourage criticism on the views I share on my blog. And of course, since my ethic on blogging is clearly no Ultimate Truth, I welcome others’ feedback on my decision to return to blogging. Emphasis, if possible, on what actual harm I am causing, in concrete terms. Note to Hugo and countless other pop psychologists – please stick to what and whom you know. While I appreciate that people may feel that the timing is wrong, I suspect that the timing will always be wrong for someone. So it would help me a lot to understand specific, relatively unpacked concerns regarding my return to blogging, what I blog about, etc.

And if I have somehow managed to pull a fast one on the world by openly confessing to my crime (in a very public manner) last year and discussing it openly in this context, I welcome your suggestions as to how I might ensure that visitors to my blog are well aware of my wrongdoings while not judging me based purely on that miniscule snapshot of my life.

What can you tell those of us you have known online, even if only as a fellow profeminist blogger, about how and to what extent you believe yourself to be of less danger to women than you were about one year ago?

My first reaction to this question, honestly, was to ask, “Is what I think relevant?” I could make all sorts of claims about my character, my values, my feelings, and my political views in the same way that I might have prior to violating a woman in January ‘07. I could even give a play-by-play of my efforts at personal transformation. Would that make me any less dangerous? To some extent, any claim by a man in patriarchy that he does not pose a threat (or a significant threat) to women is suspect. As a result, I’m hesitant to answer at all, and instead I think it would be more appropriate for women to judge based on my actions.

In order to flesh out some of what I have learned, I will say, for what it’s worth, that I do feel that I am less of a danger to women, in part because I am actually aware of my capacity to harm women, as well as my own inclinations toward male privilege. I have been very conscious for as long as I can remember of the potential for men to harm women, children, and other men. I have lived and breathed it for a long time – as a survivor, an advocate, a researcher, a pro-feminist ally, and a friend and mentor to abusive men and boys. But for reasons that seem fairly clear, given my psychological response to this exposure (which I don’t feel comfortable exposing to public scrutiny at this time), I was never able to face up to the fact that I’m just as capable of that sort of violence, domination, and hatred as those men who have haunted my nightmares, as well as those of people close to me.

I was ignorant, convinced that I would never feel any desire that superseded another person’s (whether a partner or a stranger), that I was somehow immune to this type of desire, a cultural norm for men in patriarchy. Obviously I’m not, and I certainly wasn’t then. But I am able to recognize that fact now and, with some help, deal with the responsibilities of being a “recovering sexist,” as Pearl Cleage put it.

What do you think would be appropriate, in terms of accountability to Womanist and Feminist bloggers, for you to do to attempt to rebuild trust, to demonstrate that sufficient systems of accountability are in place now that weren’t in 2007 and 2008?

As you might very well imagine, my initial response to this question was much the same as the last. But I realize that it is important to make clear what I think is appropriate  before comparing notes on the subject. Along the same lines as my previous answer, I feel that I need to demonstrate that I can live according to my professed values. And while I do not mean in any way to diminish the significance of the harm I have caused, I believe, and the people who know me well and have watched me grow up are in agreement, that my crime in January ‘07 was an isolated incident. It was not indicative of a wolf in sheep’s clothing who posed as an ally to prey upon vulnerable women – and it’s a long, long way from establishing a pattern of such predatory behavior. That is nothing more than a caricature manufactured by bloggers who, understandably  (but regrettably) so, know little to nothing about me or my life.

That said, it took a year-and-a-half for me to confess to a crime of exploitation against a woman, and that was only under the pressure of criminal prosecution. And during that time, I continued to present myself uncritically. Regardless of the personal circumstances involved, or whatever degree of identity crisis I was facing, my silence  was inexcusable.

Ironically, the bulk of suggestions I have received from feminists online asked that I shut up – and to be clear, shutting up was often implied under something to the effect of dying, disappearing, or being dismembered (and again, while interesting, I’m skeptical about how this sort of approach would actually solve anything, save for killing off all men, and later, any dominant group in society). I believe regaining trust is a matter of listening first and, when necessary, speaking up self-critically (for the same reason that a student does not merely read a textbook or listen to a lecture, but becomes engaged through writing, discussion, and other vehicles for critical thinking/reflection). And as I implied before, the outcome (trust, respect, support, etc.) is not the point – it’s a moral obligation. I believe I ought to be open, honest, and critical with others about my own participation in sexism and other forms of oppression – I’m young, White, middle-class, male, heterosexual, and American, so I don’t anticipate running out of experience to draw upon in this regard – and to invite feedback and criticism from the friends, family members, critics, and others I mentioned above.

While drawing upon such criticism is valuable to me, I want to avoid relying on women to “fix me.” It would be rather ironic, attempting to take the burden of sexism off women’s shoulders by adding the burden of humanizing men. So, I believe I ought to listen and listen closely to feminists, being careful not to abuse their time and attention, and of course, being familiar with feminist theory and what women have been saying about sexism for a long time. I believe I ought to accept the personal responsibility of doing whatever I need to do as a man – mentally, emotionally, and spiritually – to not harm women, and with any luck, help advance women’s standing in the world.

And as I previously stated with regard to blogging, I plan to steer clear of direct involvement in feminist and pro-feminist organizations and discussions, at least for a long period of time.

I am open to feedback here. I am not straying from others’ viewpoints to be difficult or “win” an argument. I’m trying to get my ideas out in the open to allow others to dissect and interrogate them. So, have at it, if you’re willing. And I want to be quite clear about this will I’m talking about, given the responses I’ve seen from bloggers in the past. I am not, nor am I capable of, forcing anyone to read, interrogate, and respond to my thoughts. If you don’t care, think it’s a waste of time, or simply would prefer not to be troubled by what I have to say, ignore me. Direct your attention elsewhere.

What have you learned about yourself and how it is that you violated that young woman who you had a position of authority over, not just as a man, but also as her Resident Assistant?

While my previous comments about being ignorant and in denial about my own capacity to harm women were brief, and potentially vague, they represent the best concise summary of my understanding of what happened and why. While I might have been highly advanced intellectually and politically, I was immature. My sexuality was very repressed, which again, has a lot to do with my experiences of, and responses to, childhood sexual abuse, as well as later involvements with anti-rape/anti-porn activism, research, and advocacy. In a position of authority over a woman who was incapacitated, well aware that it was highly unlikely anyone would find out, I acted on impulse and exposed her breast, and then I photographed her without her consent.

Also, this is pretty much just splitting hairs, but I should clarify, I was not the resident advisor for the victim. I was the head resident advisor for a complex with two residences halls of about 200-250 students each – Pierce Hall, which is all-male, and White Hall, which is coed. My “house” was the basement floor of Pierce with about 45 male students. I was, however, on duty for the entire complex and assisted two other staff members who were helping the female student – they called me to assist and left shortly after I arrived at the scene. If anything, my position as a leader on staff makes what I did much worse, so I’m not defending myself here. Just wanted to clarify.

Why are your name and photograph not visible on your blog as they were before your time in jail?

My name is printed on my blog multiple times within the contents of individual blog posts. However, as of right this moment, it is not printed on an “About the Blogger” page like in the past, nor is my photo available on the site. In the interest of presenting a clearer impression of what my blog is about, as well as my purpose for managing it, I set up pages with a description of the blog (with an emphasis on the meaning behind the “Road Less Traveled” title), a disclaimer (clarifying my social location and the privileges/limitations associated with it), and a comment policy. I will soon add a bio page with my name and photo. For me, who I am as a writer is shaped significantly by what I write (taking into account, of course, personal factors such as race, class, and gender), which is why I have briefly put off developing a new “About the Blogger” page as I add new material. And as you might expect, I’m trying to explore new areas of activism and service supporting peace, justice, and sustainability (outside of feminism), so for that reason, the bio is a bit of a work in progress.

Do you think it would be appropriate and responsible to post current photographs of yourself on your blog? If so, would you please post a current, well-lit photograph of yourself here and on your own blog that shows visitors what you look like currently, in 2009. If not, please explain why.

I have no problem posting a photo of myself on my personal blog. I feel that it could help readers connect with me by seeing the person whose words they’re reading – or, as the case may be, marveling at how I manage to not look bloated, being full of shit and all. With respect to your blog, Julian, I would expect that you could retrieve my photo from my blog, if you felt so inclined.

How might anyone not closely in your life know if and when you change your hairstyle, hair color, amount of facial hair change, clothing style, or weight to a significant degree, and in what town or city you live and study? If your appearance changes, who should be made aware of that, in your view?

My appearance, as well as where I live, work, and study, is not the business of anyone but those close to me. While I respect that exposing men who have commited abuse (which I support) – and then going the extra step of aggressively monitoring them (which I do not support) – may help people, survivors in particular, feel that justice has been done, I don’t believe that the actual benefit, in terms of preventing further violence, is worth the invasion of privacy. In other words, I believe the latter (privacy invasion) may undermine the former (violence prevention). I fully expect that you will disagree, so I strongly encourage your feedback.

As your question seems to pertain to the registration of “sex offenders,” a legal classification that did not apply to my case, I will share my general viewpoint on registration requirements and their utility, which may help clarify my position on who has a right to know my personal information.

(On a related note, I know there are major discrepancies between your account of why I was not required to register and the facts surrounding the case, in addition to major discrepancies between your description of the criminal charges and the facts surrounding the case… to say nothing of your bizarre speculations regarding the racial and sexual politics involved in my prosecution and sentencing – I see where you’re going, but you’ve made claims that you simply cannot even begin to back up, which undermines your position… but that is another discussion for another time.)

I believe sex offender registration encourages the general public to believe that the threat of sexual violence (although, to be clear, sexually violent crimes are only one component of “sex offenses” – there are other non-violent examples) is contained. The perception is that the only men (the vast majority of sex offenders are men, so I’ll be specific here) who pose a threat to commit sexual violence are sex offenders, or the perception is is that sex offenders are more likely than other men to commit sexual violence, hence the aggressive monitoring. The first claim is obviously false, and the second is dubious, given what we know about under-reporting and recidivism rates.

As we know, sexual violence is extremely under-reported, a phenomenon that has been studied by several feminist, criminal justice, and human rights organizations, and certainly a disturbing reality to which any advocate for SV/DV survivors can attest. If only a small fraction of cases are reported, then it would seem that we’re singling out a select few who are no more dangerous than the men who committed abuse but simply never got caught. We also know, based on DOJ statistics, that sex offenders are less likely than any other group of criminals to commit a new offense of any type (though, when they do re-offend, they are four-times more likely to have committed a new sex crime than non-sex offenders who re-offend – though I would assume such is the case with other “types” of criminals who repeat the same type of offense). So, in addition to diverting our concern away from men who have committed abuse but never got caught, we point the finger at men whose likelihood of re-offending is considerably low.

I can understand and sympathize with folks who want to be able to identify, contain, and ultimately eradicate the threat of sexual violence (I’m on their side), as well as survivors who want to expose their abusers (I’m there, too). It’s not the exposing and naming that I’m concerned about – as I’ve demonstrated in my own experiences of wrongdoing, I think men who have committed abuse ought to be called out and held accountable. But I have serious doubts as to whether the monitoring you are suggesting actually helps more than it harms.

This is probably no secret, Julian, but your utter disregard for men’s privacy – and yes, even men who have committed abuse – neglects a vital element of their development as human beings. And given your politics, I don’t expect you necessarily to sympathize, but forcing men who have committed abuse into a box, permanently labeling and stigmatizing them, and ensuring that they will never be able to move forward from (just to clarify,  not “forget” or “disregard” – “move forward from”) the terrible wrongdoings they have committed doesn’t seem like a viable path toward rehabilitation. So, at best you could say that aggressive monitoring diverts attention (and an insane amount of resources) from more serious threats, and at worst it makes it painfully difficult, if not impossible, for men to make the necessary changes in their lives to truly rehabilitate.

I am not without my own personal biases, obviously. The blogger who originally wrote about my arrest did not discover it on her own. A young man, who was a fellow student of mine in college, informed her. That in itself did not bother me – it was a matter of public record, and quite frankly, if I had witnessed such a blatant example of hypocrisy, particularly by a so-called “pro-feminist male,” I would have called him out in precisely the same way. It was when I found out who the young man was, and recalled what I had heard about him from several women who came to me as an advocate during college, that I became concerned. The young man who outed me to the feminist blogosphere was (and perhaps still is) a serial rapist.

So I’m not surprised when I realize that many of the most misogynist men I have ever met, who wouldn’t be caught dead supporting women’s liberation in any way, shape, or form, will gladly stand shoulder-to-shoulder with feminists when it comes to identifying a scapegoat for sexual violence.

Regardless of what other men have done, I bear responsibility for my actions. And I certainly anticipate that, as a result of those actions, women may feel threatened by me. And in order to approach that conflict responsibility, I will continue to be open and honest with women (and for that matter, men) in my life about my personal history, in addition to avoiding any sort of privileged access to communities of feminists/women. On the other hand, I hope you can understand my skepticism at the suggestion that keeping the world up-to-speed on my appearance and whereabouts is actually making anyone safer.

This type of discussion regarding registration and monitoring of sex offenders, whether state-sponsored or organized by survivors, raises a lot of questions that go far beyond the nature of our discussion here. So I’ll leave it at that for now. But I would be open to discussing these registration issues with you in some other venue.

CONCLUSION (?)

Okay, not really a conclusion. But I need to wrap up my side of the dialogue and give you and others a chance to respond. Thanks again for your questions.

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Why (white and male) kids kill

My initial reaction to Peter Langman’s new book “Why Kids Kill,” on the eve of the ten-year anniversary of the Columbine shootings. From the Sioux City Journal:

I was pleased to read a review of Peter Langman’s new book, “Why Kids Kill,” in the Sunday paper. As I look forward to picking up a copy of the book, I have two questions that may help us begin to better understand what factors lead school shootings to occur and how we can prevent them. But first, a point to clarify.

There is no single explanation for school shootings. Several factors have been discussed publicly – mental illness, access to guns, media violence, bullying, and lack of parental supervision, to name a few. While Langman, as a clinical psychologist, focuses on the “psychology of school shooters,” I applaud him for apparently framing that analysis within the context of larger questions concerning personal and environmental factors.

In his book, Langman profiles ten school shooters – Evan Ramsey, Michael Carneal, Andrew Golden, Mitchell Johnson, Andrew Wurst, Kip Kinkel, Eric Harris, Dylan Klebold, Jeffrey Weise, and Seung-Hui Cho. Since this sample consists only of boys, and all but two subjects (Weise and Cho) are white, why does the book refer to them neutrally as “kids,” rather than as a fairly specific population of children, white boys? If we incorporate race and gender into our analysis of school shootings, how might that influence our conclusions?

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A Quick Comment on McNuggetgate

Alright, because there ought to be a devil’s advocate in the room, but more importantly, because I love me some McNuggets from time to time, I need to defend Latreasa Goodman, the Florida woman who has been in the news lately after she called 911 about a McNugget order gone wrong.

For starters, if Harvey Milk’s killer got a reduced sentence by using the “Twinkie Defense,” I’m inclined to cut Ms. Goodman a little bit of slack since she was probably pretty hungry. She was at McDonald’s after all, so I’m going to go with the assumption that she was REALLY hungry.

As for calling 911, Ms. Goodman was reporting a crime, theft by swindle. The cashier took her money for goods (ten scrumptious McNuggets), failed to deliver, and then refused to give Ms. Goodman her money back. So I think she’s in the clear regarding the charges of improper use of the 911 emergency line.

Calling the police department’s non-emergency number would have been a better choice, given that no one was in danger. But hey, when a fast food giant runs out of a signature menu item, riots can break out pretty quick. Ms. Goodman just wanted to make sure the cops got a head start.

And yes, speaking with the manager helps, but I’m not sure from the accounts I’ve read that she didn’t speak to a manager (or a worker claiming to be the manager). So I’m nixing that argument.

In conclusion, I hope we can continue rambling on about Ms. Goodman and her bizarre behavior. It sure beats talking about McDonald’s exploiting its workers, the enormous amount of waste created by fast food restaurants, and Americans’ rapidly expanding waistlines.

Mmmm… McJournalism.

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Linky Fun: PhillyD on McNuggetgate (beginning at 1:54)

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Protest Artist of the Week: Lori Phanachone

Update (04.07.09):

Lori Phanachone’s suspension has been lifted, her dismissal from the National Honor Society overruled, and she has been re-classified as an English-speaking student. The Storm Lake School District has also,with guidance from the state, made changes to the ESL program.*

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Original Post (03.13.09):

Lori Phanachone, a high school senior in Storm Lake, Iowa, was suspended from school earlier this month for refusing to take an English language proficiency test that she considered “demeaning” and “racist.” According to school administrators, Phanachone faces further disciplinary action if she continues to resist.

See initial articles in the Des Moines Register, the Sioux City Journal, and the Storm Lake Pilot-Tribune. Details on the student protest supporting Phanachone can be found at Radio Iowa. Finally, for the visual learners among us, a video segment from KTIV in Sioux City.

The statement below is my response to an editorial in The Tack at Buena Vista University (my alma mater, which is in Storm Lake) criticizing Phanochone for being “immature” and “throwing a temper tantrum.”

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When I initially read this article, I felt compelled to relate this incident to the tradition of civil disobedience in the United States. It’s a textbook example. And interpreting the situation within that context would certainly help all of us, especially the Storm Lake School District, to make better decisions when the status quo is called into question. I will bypass those remarks, however, because I think others have made that point pretty clear.

When thinking about the Phanachone case, I do agree with Heather’s assertion that Phanachone may be immature – she is only 18, after all (i.e. not because she “showed her anger at an inappropriate time” – everyone, including mature people, does that). But that doesn’t mean she was wrong.

What struck me in the article is that the author “completely agrees” with the substance of Phanachone’s criticism of the test itself, testing requirements, etc. Yet she harshly rejects that criticism for the method with which the student expressed it, just the same as the school has done apparently. I think it makes sense, given that schools in the United States emphasize (and perhaps over-emphasize) obedience, but this fixation on method over substance is a very dangerous approach. It effectively ignores Phanachone’s fair criticism, and applied consistently, it narrows already restrictive space for students to pursue conflict resolution.

What do students do when they feel that their concerns are not being heard and they have run out of peaceful methods for “getting heard?” The short answer: potentially offensive, even harmful, things that seem reasonable from the student’s perspective in a position of subordination. And to be fair, ripping up a test, and Phanachone’s previous protest of answering every multiple-choice question with C, are fairly benign acts of civil disobedience.

Educators may not agree entirely with Phanachone’s methods, but that’s really not the point. They have a responsibility to listen and respond to students’ views, rather than squashing them – there is plenty of gray area to explore here through negotiation and open dialogue. And what better opportunity for a student to learn the “appropriate” methods for social change that we all seem to prefer than being engaged in a decision-making process on school testing requirements.

On a final note, I do not mean to condemn the Storm Lake School District for their actions, even though I believe I have raised important questions about their response. I don’t know enough, based on the Des Moines Register article, to develop an informed criticism. And perhaps it goes without saying, but this situation carries implications far beyond policies at the institutional level.

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Also, an excerpt from an editorial by Dana Larsen at the Storm Lake Pilot-Tribune:

“This school helped to produce a young woman who has eloquently and courageously stood up against what she feels is wrong. It has helped to produce other students of such loyalty that they will stand up for their classmate even if it means discomfort and maybe punishment for themselves. It has engaged a caring community enough that people will talk about and debate the situation. Uncomfortable as that must be for school and district leaders, it’s a hell of a lot better than the educational apathy you would find in a lot of places.”

Well said! I especially appreciated his praise of the school for their role in producing students like Phanachone and her peers. We tend to manipulate stories like this one into us vs. them, good people vs. bad people, dualistic thinking. But the fact is, there are a variety of ways to resolve the interpersonal, institutional, and policy questions at stake here peacefully, particularly because there is so much overlap regarding the needs and interests of the stakeholders. In other words, taking sides is neither logical or necessary.

Phanachone – who, by the way, has been kind, mature, and diplomatic when discussing her personal ordeal publicly – did not oppose the school when she refused to take that test. I’m not even sure what that means, but I saw that assumption demonstrated again and again when I made the mistake of reading online comments (in some cases, “school” being substituted with “America,” “God,” or “Reality”). She opened up a very important dialogue about education, language, and culture, a dialogue that I hope will continue in Storm Lake and in other Iowa communities that have read about this situation.

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You scratch my back, I’ll discriminate against your students

Update (04.02.09):

Interesting discussion from the Rachel Maddow Show on “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” featuring Gen. Colin Powell, who supports a review of the policy (potentially leading to a repeal), and Former Secretary of the Army Clifford Alexander, who rejects the policy outright.

My favorite lines, c/o Former Army Sec. Alexander:

“Would we ask, at this particular point, for a Muslim to act like a Jew?”

“Would we ask for a Buddhist to act like a Catholic?”

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Update (03.18.09):

The ROTC proposal passed at BV and will begin this fall. No plan was declared publicly, however, as to how the University intends to reconcile the federal government’s anti-gay “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy with its own policy not to discriminate on the basis of sexual orientation.

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Original Post (03.13.09):

When I read last week that my alma mater, Buena Vista University (BV), was pursuing an ROTC program on campus, despite the obvious inconsistencies between the federal “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy on gays and lesbians in the military and the University’s commitment to non-discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation, I was a little shocked.

Don’t get me wrong, I recognize the advantages of having such a program on campus, especially in terms of recruitment. And while I’m not particularly enthused about what the U.S. government does with its military, how much of our taxes it spends on the military, etc., I don’t have any problems with the ROTC per se. The military, like any other organization, needs leaders, and the ROTC clearly has a well-established tradition of providing them. But for me, even with these advantages, we ought to be concerned about any educational institution that is willing to shrug off its commitment to diversity and social justice because the federal government says so.

I was very happy today to see that a BV student is speaking out against endorsing a bigoted policy like DADT. Given obvious discrepancies between campus policies on discrimination and DADT, she asks, “How will these two policies work together if the ROTC program is implemented?”

Rather than entirely rejecting the ROTC proposal, Bishop takes a diplomatic approach, calling on the University to inform students of the risks associated with ROTC membership and DADT, and proposing that BV use its relationship with ROTC officials to add leverage to the cause of repealing DADT. Most importantly, Bishop seems to emphasize that the University make an unequivocal statement regarding its position on discrimination: “This is the University’s chance to stand up loud and proud for diversity.”

The links above refer to a 3/6/09 article in The Tack regarding approval for ROTC by the Academic Affairs Committee at BV, and Bishop’s 3/13/09 editorial in response. My comment to Bishop’s editorial is below.

Excellent work, Chloe! If you were to poll the campus, I think you would probably find that a majority of community members do not support “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.” It’s an unjust federal policy, one that unfairly disadvantages gays and lesbians, not to mention hurting the armed forces. After all, the “best and brightest” are surely not all straight.

For that reason, it does seem confusing that the Academic Affairs Committee of Faculty Senate approved the ROTC proposal earlier this month, endorsing and committing institutional support to a military program that actively discriminates against gays and lesbians. As you made quite clear (and forgive me, I don’t have a BV catalog handy to quote the policy exactly), the University has a non-discrimination policy that includes sexual orientation. And, with all due respect to Dr. Evans and his proposed addition to that policy that would “accommodate concern over the conflict of the policy,” I fail to see a compromise between two policies, one campus and one federal, that are polar opposites.

Frankly, I like a non-discrimination policy that doesn’t accommodate a discrimination policy. How about you?

I agree wholeheartedly with your conclusion, Chloe, that the University ought to “stand up loud and proud for diversity.” But I would take your suggestions a step further and argue that BV ought to tell the ROTC, “We will gladly host your program on our campus as soon as “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” is repealed,” just as many responsible, socially conscious educational institutions already have.

And with any luck, ROTC officials will join the many gay rights activists, current and former military personnel, college students, and many other citizens who are pushing Congress and President Obama to repeal “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.”

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Virginia Tech and Building a Culture of Peace

I am hoping to expand upon this post through a series of posts on violence in American society, particularly the common reactions we as a society have to violent acts – in the article below, I discussed a recent school shooting, but there are a variety of violent episodes (to say nothing of routine acts of violence that don’t make the 5 o’clock news) that have reshaped our views on a whole range of issues, carrying social, political, and spiritual implications. Without delving, at this stage, into the many questions we ought to consider regarding violence in our culture and our responses to it, I will explain one of my primary concerns in relation to the Virginia Tech school shooting in 2007.

As we saw regularly in the months following 9/11, perhaps best exemplified by the common question in mass media, “Why do they hate us?” (ignoring countless other, much more important questions that could help us prevent such tragedies in the future), many Americans tend to be baffled by violence in society. For whatever reason, we simply cannot put the pieces together, more often than not turning one violent act into a cycle of ever-escalating violence. We fail to see the pivotal role that violence and domination plays in American society, leaving us unable to put violent acts in a context that can help us reflect and draw meaningful conclusions.

The below article was published in The Tack (Buena Vista University) on April 20, 2007, just a few days following the horrific Virginia Tech massacre. As a college student at the time, I was deeply aware of the confusion, tension, and fear felt by the campus community – the events at Virginia Tech that week radically altered our expectations of safety and security. We were terrified at the realization that no campus or community was immune to the sort of chaos and devastation we witnessed in Virginia on television, in newspapers, and via the blogosphere. All the while, however, we were in an excellent position to build a culture of peace instead of reacting to violence with further violence.

Months after writing my article, I stumbled across one by Svi Shapiro entitled, “Virginia Tech: Education and a Culture of Death,” which presented a similar argument much more clearly and in greater detail. As soon as I can find a link, I’ll post it here.

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Earlier this week, the nation was shocked by reports of the worst school shooting in U.S. history at Virginia Technical University in Blacksburg, Virginia. There is no right way to respond to a tragedy such as this. I merely hope that it is something each and every one of us thinks about very carefully in relation to our experience of a culture that fosters violence.

I challenge you to put off placing blame – not until after all the evidence is in, but until we have reflected upon the intimate connection we have with violence in America. While placing blame may help us find a sense of closure and safety following a tragedy, this process turns out to be rather evasive. It is probably the most tried-and-true method of a distinctly American model of conflict management.

We could blame Viginia tech for not responding quickly enough, as well as for not seeing this event coming, considering the 23-year-old Cho Seung-Hui’s student conduct record. We could blame various media outlets for irresponsible reporting. And of course, our most convenient target for blame is cho Seung-Hui himself who carefully and methodically ended the lives of thirty-three women and men (including himself) and devasted the lives of countless others.

As disturbing as this event has been, I don’t think we should be very surprised by the tragedy at Virginia Tech. We live in a nation that embraces violence and domination. It is embedded in our popular culture, our relationships, our justice system, our media, and perhaps most ironically (as we tend to rely on rhetoric about “liberty” quite a lot), U.S. foreign policy. So, if we are really going to be honest about placing blame, we need to look in the mirror.

Understand what I’m saying. I am not trying to defend a murderer, or even begin to suggest that this conflict was handled perfectly by Virginia Tech, law enforcement, and our American media. There is a lot of work to be done to ensure that colleges and universities can better respond to, and more effectively prevent, this sort of tragedy from happning. And without question, our media system could see serious improvement.

Yet, as we reflect on a tragedy that is still very much fresh in our minds and weighing heavily on our hearts, allow me to suggest a starting point for moving forward. Let’s stop placing blame on all the usual suspects, and instead, confront the larger culture of violence we live and breathe. I’m not interesting in hearing from you what everyone else “out there” has done wrong. Let’s take responsibility for our personal and collective participation in a culture of violence.

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“Love Without Fear” and Strip Clubs

DISCLAIMER: This post is rooted in a feminist/pro-feminist analysis, and as a result, it may lead readers to assume certain things about me politically and personally (e.g. that I am living, have lived, and will continue to live a responsible, pro-feminist lifestyle). The fact is, I committed a crime in January 2007, sexually violating a woman who was under my care as a resident advisor in college. I ask that you keep this information in mind when evaluating my comments in this post, as well as if you engage me in dialogue. Please read this post (listed as “Because you deserve to know” on the “ARCHIVES” page) for more information.

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In April 2006, alongside other members of Students Against a Violent Environment (SAVE) at Buena Vista University, I helped organized a series of educational programs and public demonstrations to recognize Sexual Assault Awareness Month (or as we called it, “Love Without Fear” Month). At the beginning of the month, SAVE sent out a press release with information on the month’s activities, which included, for the first time in the organization’s history (to my knowledge), a protest at a local strip club. The Tack presented an excellent feature article and helped us engage the campus community, but at the very end of the article, a student was quoted as saying, “What does a strip club have to do with violence against women?”

Given that the other head advocate and I were leading SAVE in directions that were unprecedented – before we took on leadership positions, the organization’s role was strictly providing one-on-one support to survivors (i.e. very little peer education and virtually no activism) – we clearly needed to respond to the question publicly. I feel pretty confident that many other students, including our own members, were wondering just why we were so concerned, as rape victim advocates, about a “titty bar.” The letter to the editor below provides a brief answer to that question – it appeared in the April 21, 2006 edition of The Tack.

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An important question arose in the April 7 edition of The Tack in an article about SAVE’s “Love Without Fear” Month – what do strip clubs have to do with violence against women?

Strip clubs, along with the sex industry as a whole, support a system in which women’s bodies are literally bought and sold. For many women working in the sex industry, their participation is not by choice, or it is based on unjust circumstances. For a woman whose livelihood is based on playing into men’s sexual fantasies, that means internalizing the message that men have the right to control her body and that she has the duty to serve them.

So why would SAVE protest at a strip club? Because we don’t support the buying and selling of women’s bodies. We don’t support a system of patriarchal oppression in which women are deemed commodities to be controlled by men. Whether the outcome of such a system is domestic violence, date rape, or any other act of hatred committed against women, SAVE wants to make the message clear that we do not support it, especially at a time when pop culture seems to celebrate sexism.

SAVE’s upcoming protest at Hot Shots is not an attempt to speak out against sex or sexual expression. We want to support sexual expression that is free from domination, and we hope the BVU campus community will join us in that effort.

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Being a “real man”

DISCLAIMER: This post is rooted in a feminist/pro-feminist analysis, and as a result, it may lead readers to assume certain things about me politically and personally (e.g. that I am living, have lived, and will continue to live a responsible, pro-feminist lifestyle). The fact is, I committed a crime in January 2007, sexually violating a woman who was under my care as a resident advisor in college. I ask that you keep this information in mind when evaluating my comments in this post, as well as if you engage me in dialogue. Please read this post (listed as “Because you deserve to know” on the “ARCHIVES” page) for more information.

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Originally published in The Tack (Buena Vista University) on December 9, 2005

I ask you today to tell me what it means to be a “real man.” With changes in the way we think about gender roles and masculinity, and challenges from feminists and other anti-sexist groups calling into question men’s position of privilege in society, how does this affect the way we definne manhood? How do men think about themselves?

I have grown up in a world with very few male role models, and that impacts how I think about myself as a man. Growing up in a culture of woman-hating, I have grown up with men and boys whose worst fear is to appear feminine, who refuse to give up the masculine pose.

Whether they are trying to be the tough guy, the sexual colonizer, or Mr. Indifferent, I fail to see anything authentic in these men. And whether I like it or not, I have learned some bad lessons from them.

Learning how to be a man for me, as well as for many of my fellows, meant learning how to see women ot as human being but merely as connected physical parts which I am to possess and control. I have learned how to hold my emotions in and distance myself in relationships.

I have learned how to act out aggressively in order to express myself and how to define my worth only by my ability to be in control. In short, I have learned how to fit a carefully constructed and rigid definition of manhood in such a way that dehumanizes others and also works to dehumanize me in the process.

Worst yet, these lessons have come with a securing mechanism. Along with a feeling of entitlement to women’s bodies and women’s minds, and an obsession with toughness and control, I have learned how to ignore these simple realities. I have been trained to not see my position of privilege and to reject those who might question it.

When I think about being a man, I feel sad. I think about all the rotten lessons I have learned and how the woman-hating “boys’ club” has instilled in me all their rules, norms, and values. When I think about my patriarchal training, it makes me anything but proud to be a man.

I don’t like living in a world in which men abuse themselves and others in the name of what’s manly.” I don’t like living in a world in which I’m reminded every day that that which is feminine bears no worth unless it can be controlled, manipulated, and exploited by men. I don’t like living in a world in which men get off on degrading women and attempt to justify this act as a right. This obsession with being “real men” strips from men any sense of authentic identity. It robs from us our own experience of life – our compassion, empathy, and love.

If men cannot come together to create an all-out rejection of sexism, if we cannot throw out the privilege we maintain from the oppression of women, and if we cannot throw out the ridiculous lessons we’re taught about being real men, then I think we need to call for an end to manhood. After all, what good does it hold for any of us?

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A male college student on “The Rag”

DISCLAIMER: This post is rooted in a feminist/pro-feminist analysis, and as a result, it may lead readers to assume certain things about me politically and personally (e.g. that I am living, have lived, and will continue to live a responsible, pro-feminist lifestyle). The fact is, I committed a crime in January 2007, sexually violating a woman who was under my care as a resident advisor in college. I ask that you keep this information in mind when evaluating my comments in this post, as well as if you engage me in dialogue. Please read this post (listed as “Because you deserve to know” on the “ARCHIVES” page) for more information.

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As a college student at Buena Vista University in Storm Lake, Iowa, I had the privilege of working with a feminist student organization known as ERASE, which stood for something like “Educating for Respect, Activism, Support and Equality.” Don’t quote me, but that must be pretty close. The group engaged in consciousness-raising on campus, concentrating on a wide range of feminist concerns, while also building bridges with the campus LGBT organization, the rape victim advocacy group, a women of color group, and the women’s studies program.

One of ERASE’s many outreach efforts included a monthly newsletter known as “The Rag,” a by-women-for-women publication. Responses to the newsletter were mixed. Women (and a few male readers) who “got it,” including the writers’ commitment to bold, honest, and unapologetic woman-centered analysis and commentary, seemed to find a lot of meaning in it. Others found it too “controversial,” though they never really made clear what was so controversial or why. But at least those folks were content with not “getting it” and simply looking the other way when ERASE members would distribute copies in the student center. However, a small but vocal minority of students, led by both men and women, made the case that ERASE was engaging in sexist discrimination by publishing a newsletter that would not accept male writers. And since the bare-bones funding with which ERASE sustained its newsletter came from student government, and therefore, tuition costs, these students felt especially aggrieved.

Fortunately, no formal action was taken against the organization, which is at least a bit surprising since other social justice groups that were accused of “reverse discrimination” did not escape this fate (in addition to regularly having to make a case as to why Student Senate ought to give a “special” or “advocacy” group the same funding as a “regular” organization). I like to imagine that my editorial helped people come to their senses and appreciate the significance of a BWFW newsletter on campus (in a society in which the playing field in media, print or electronic, is far from level), but I’m not quite that optimistic. More likely than not, ERASE’s critics simply moved on to some other perceived threat to all things patriarchal.

On a related note, about a month prior to writing this editorial, I was in conversation with ERASE members about contributing a pro-feminist voice to the newsletter, if they were interested (I was not aware at the time of the group’s BWFW commitment). The initial response was positive, but of course, after discussing the matter as a group, ERASE declined my offer to write. I guess I could have been upset – I could have even claimed that I was being discriminated against. But instead, I thought for a moment and considered that men have had a stranglehold on our popular imagination as a society for too long. Women need space of their own, and frankly, I don’t think a monthly newsletter is asking too much.

“A male college student on “The Rag,” originally published in The Tack on November 18, 2005

Have you read “The Rag,” the new by-women-for-women newsletter published by ERASE? It brings me incredible joy to know that we have young feminists on campus who are creating a space for women in which they can express themselves and reach out to other women in the campus community, particularly as women’s voices, yet today, are ignored, excluded and trivialized.

Yet we see some interesting and particularly revealing defensiveness from a few men and women on our campus, outraged at ERASE’s attempt to speak out and spark social change. “They can’t publish a newsletter without letting men write – that’s discrimination!”

Let us not forget the usual response to ERASE, which is that they are a “man-hating” organization. Sounds like an interesting controversy to discuss. The trouble I find with the claim that ERASE is just a bunch of man-haters, which is supposedly expressed through their commitment to providing “The Rag,” is that I wonder if people, particularly men, are really listening.

As a college male, I recognize that many of the issues women have to bring to the table may actually be quite threatening to me. Whether it’s the countless women who are discriminated against in the workplace, sold into sexual slavery all over the world, raised to constantly question their sense of worth, or simply forced to live in a society in which their oppression is eroticized and then mass-produced for men in a multi-billion dollar industry – these women’s lives and their stories bother me, as they rightly should. They bother me because I benefit from women’s oppression.

I might not have learned it as part of my patriarchal education, but I live in a society in which my pleasure is supported by women’s pain. It’s not hard to imagine how hearing the honest and straightforward messages presented in “The Rag” can be very difficult and can indeed reshape my outlook on life.

My response, though, which can be pretty influential considering the amount of real power I have as a man in a patriarchal society, is what becomes important. Should I respond to feminist sentiments promoting equality and justice with defensiveness and anger – perhaps claiming that it’s really men who are oppressed? Or perhaps I should consider recognizing the role I play in oppressing women and then ally myself with feminists to correct that injustice.

Men can always try the response, “I’m not a bad guy,” and hey, I believe you. I appreciate your role as a good guy. In fact, if you have taken the time to get in touch with your emotions and maybe even become sensitive to women’s concerns, then you should be very proud of yourself – you have begun to overcome your patriarchal training.

What I can tell you, though, is that, while listenign to women’s concerns and supporting them at heart is a tremendous step in the right direction, you are wasting their time and your own if that is the end of your journey. And don’t just take it from a pro-feminist male. Open up your ears for women’s voices in “The Rag” and from other sources.

If you want to be part of the resistance, just look around you. How welcome are we to women’s concerns when we shriek at the thought of women creating a space for themselves? How open are we to facing the realities of women’s lives rather than dismissing them?

Gain an education while you’re at BVU. ERASE would love your support. The university offers several courses in women’s studies. And while we may be surrounded by expressions of patriarchy, it is also not difficult to find feminist movement on campus. Seek it out and support equality!

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