Response to Emma's Post, 3/30 (Had to do a new post because it got too long)

I think Emma’s last point, “that it is crucial to be educated about the portrait of an average rapist, and to dispel many of the myths about rape” is of incredible importance. I was going to write this blog post about the merits of taking individual action to both fight against rape and deconstruct the raunch culture, but now I’m not sure how I feel about it. To a certain extent, I want to say that rape is an unfortunate reality of our society and while it should be fought on a macro-level, the individual should do everything they can to fight against it, but I realized as an individual, I don’t do that in my own life.

As Emilie Morgan described in her heartbreaking story, rape and sexual assault are part of our society. While sexual assault is a horrific crime that hopefully will be reduced in the future as it is more addressed, it is currently an unfortunate reality of our world that both women and men are not always safe. Women especially face attacks on all fronts, by strangers, friends, and even loved ones. The flaws in our society need to be addressed on a macro level but as individuals, there are actions that we can take to prevent rape.

While I believe this abstractly by supporting a “we can fight this” attitude, I feel incredibly hypocritical when I emphasize personal responsibility because there are a lot of things I do personally which probably put me in risky situations. I haven’t taken karate, I don’t even carry mace. I walk home alone at night, frequently from campus to home on weeknights but every now and then on a Friday or Saturday night. I always feel guilty when I do, that it would be my fault for not using the “buddy system”. I know that I could call campus safety and request a ride from them or ask one of my friends to pick me up, but I’d rather just walk and be independent than burden my friends or inconvenience campus safety. I’m not as mindful of open drinks on the weekends as I should be. I don’t always lock my door. I walk while listening to music. So whenever I do walk or don’t lock my door, I feel guilty, like I’m not protecting myself and making myself vulnerable. If I were to be attacked, I would be at fault.

Reviewing all these things in my mind, I’m angry. I’m angry that as a woman I am physically vulnerable to attack at any moment. I am angry that I can be overpowered because I am physically weaker than a huge segment of the population and I am susceptible to attack at any moment, and that to a certain extent, it would be my fault for not defending myself. I’m angry that I was born into a culture where I am on the defensive, and even though no one would blame me 100% for an assault, it would still be a degree my fault for not protecting myself fully. I’m angry that what I “should” be doing is taking karate. I don’t want to take karate. I “should” be concerned on a Friday night for my safety - instead of having fun with my friends, that I should be actively defending the drink in my hand against date rape drugs. I’m angry that I can’t listen to my iPod when I’m walking alone because that makes me more vulnerable. I’m angry that when I walk through a parking lot at night, I have to grip my car keys between my knuckles and prepare to jab someone in the eyes.

And I’m angry that I can’t be angry without being labeled a psycho feminist. I feel like I should try to be a “nice feminist” to prove the bitter-man-hating feminist stereotype wrong. But women face rape and sexual assault as a daily burden, which I don’t believe is true for the majority of men.

So ultimately, I don’t know where I stand. I am angry at men because I’ve heard firsthand from a male (who told me this sentiment fully knowing that I am a feminist) at Colgate who told me he thinks that women often “put themselves in that situation” for sexual assault. The fact is that the majority of the rapes that occur are men raping women, and yet the burden is placed on women to act constantly on the defense.