Thursday Short Poem: Bhatt’s “Dear Jungle”

Posted on September 3, 2009 by Hugo Schwyzer

We are a people who love nature when it’s safe and pretty; tempted to “Bambi environmentalism” time and again. Sujatta Bhatt calls us out in this fine offering.

Dear Jungle

The safest place for you is in the greenhouse now.
The animals have to stay in the zoo.
The birds have their own cage
which is somewhere else, far away;
and the snakes live in the snake house.
I’ve sprayed the mosquitoes;
there’s no point in keeping them.
I’m sorry the butterflies died too.
It was an accident.
Don’t be sad. I’ll visit you every day.
I’ll wear my new tropical outfit, helmet and all.
I’ll bring biscuits and Darjeeling tea, just for us.
My dear jungle, please understand
my love for you; how I need your jungly jungliness;
oh, how shall I live without your green,
green rawness all over me.

Holly dyed her hair: more on myths of female frailty, our fear of women’s anger, and what happens when the truth comes out

Posted on September 2, 2009 by Hugo Schwyzer

I posted earlier this year against the “myth of female frailty” and the lie that “one mistake will ruin your life”. The topic of that myth arose again this week when I met with one of my former All Saints youth group kids, “Holly.”

Holly, whom I’ve known since she was in eighth grade, is now headed into her senior year of high school; she’s 17. When I first met Holly, and indeed for the next several years, Holly “presented” outwardly as the pretty, outgoing, poised and popular blonde whose passage through adolescence seems almost unfairly graceful. Holly was much sought after as a friend (and more) by boys and girls alike; at our Wednesday night youth group meetings, I often saw not-very-subtle attempts by kids of both sexes to sit on “Holly’s couch” and be near her.

Of course, Holly was far more than the walking embodiment of a stock American stereotype. Not only was she exceptionally bright and a particularly talented writer, her childhood had been touched by tragedy and loss to a degree that set her well apart from most of her peers. A few — a very few — of her friends got to know the depth of that loss and its impact on Holly’s life; I was one of the small group of adults to whom she also regularly turned. I watched her struggle with the disconnect between how the rest of the world perceived her and how she felt on the inside, and we talked often about her frustration with the realization that she was the object of desire, admiration, jealousy, and envy when for the most part, she felt out of place and frequently lonely. Holly’s is not an unfamiliar story — at its most extreme, call it the “Richard Cory” phenomenon after that famous Edward Arlington Robinson poem so loved by generations of misperceived adolescents.

This summer, Holly broke up with her first serious boyfriend, got her first lead in a play, and let go of a great many of her old friends. When I met with her earlier this week, her long blonde hair was mahogany brown. Despite the heat, she wasn’t wearing the short skirts that had been her trademark since junior high school. She wore corduroy pants, a t-shirt, and a vest. Not a trace of make-up on her face, but when we met at a local coffee shop, there was a sense of real happiness behind her eyes. Holly’s making changes; the outside shift reflects an inner transformation — and the brunette tresses a greater willingness to expose to the world the darker, more complex aspects of her personality. Continue reading →

I Really Like Big Guys: “More to Love” and the desire to feel small

Posted on September 1, 2009 by Hugo Schwyzer

I wrote about More to Love, the Fox reality show, just over a month ago. One theme in more recent episodes (h/t Jenn Pozner) is that many of the plus-sized women on the show are attracted to large men who make them feel “small” and, presumably, more feminine. I wrote about that subject on November 29, 2006, and that post appears below.

I was talking to a female friend of mine yesterday; she’s just started dating a new fella, and the budding relationship appears promising. My friend is about 5’8″, and her new boyfriend is 6’5″. I knew her last boyfriend, who was her height — and so, as we chatted, I asked her if the height differential in this current relationship made a difference.

“Yes, I suppose it really does”, she said. “Being with a man so much taller and bigger makes me feel smaller, more feminine. Being in his arms feels wonderful because I feel the difference between us so much more than with Jack (her ex).”

My friend, who knows I teach feminism, asked “Do you think that makes me less of a feminist, wanting a man who can wrap me up and make me feel so feminine and protected?”

Almost from the start of 2006, the broad feminist blogosphere has been engaged in an intense period of self-criticism, culminating in October’s infamous “waxing wars.” I have no interest in reviving a lot of talk about feminist credentials. But my friend’s sense of delight in the size differential between her and her new guy — and her mild discomfort at what that delight might symbolize — is worth a post.

Of course, y’all know I’m going to share the inevitable personal anecdote. In college, I had a huge crush on a gal who lived in the same co-op as I did. She was my height (6’1″) and a broad-shouldered swimmer who had started her college career on an athletic scholarship but who had tired of the intensity of the competition. She was the consummate jock, and if I could be said to have a “type”, it was always the very athletic, tomboyish women. “Lisa” and I tried a romantic relationship, but it ended quickly; my interest in being more than friends exceeeded hers.

Lisa told me, even before we started dating, that she had doubts about our chances together: “I really like big guys”, she said; “I’m a tall strong girl and I like being with a man who makes me feel petite and feminine.” She liked dating tall linemen, and I was going through one of my “skinny stages”. I was already taking women’s studies classes at that point, and in order to make my case, I quite shamelessly used what I thought were sincere feminist tactics, saying something like:

“Lisa, you only want a stronger, bigger man, because you’ve been brainwashed by a sexist culture. You’ve been taught to be uncomfortable with yourself as a tall athletic woman, and so you want to be with an even bigger guy who can make you feel more traditional. You’re surrendering to the patriarchy!”

There might have been one or two grains of truth in what I was saying, but it was evident to both of us that my exhortation was colored less by a commitment to feminist principle and more by naked self-interest. And I had no reply when Lisa told me off, saying (and this I remember more vividly than my own words):

“Don’t be an asshole and assume that what I want stems from my oppression as a woman. If you were a real feminist man you would never try and channel my feelings and desires to serve your needs, and you’d never try and use feminism to guilt me into being with you.”

That was an uncomfortable “aha” moment, and it taught me an enduring lesson. Few things are more indefensible and pathetic than a self-proclaimed male feminist using the rhetoric of gender justice to try and “get” a woman to be attracted to him. Been there, did that, grew out of it. Continue reading →

Tuesday Anniversary Poem: Auden’s “September 1, 1939″

Posted on September 1, 2009 by Hugo Schwyzer

Today marks the 70th anniversary of the start of the Second World War. All sorts of international commemorations taking place, but the obvious thing to do here is print W.H. Auden’s wonderful September 1, 1939. It’s below the fold. I love with all my heart the final lines; I too am a creature of Eros and dust, longing to show an affirming flame. Continue reading →

Reprint: “No right to be assumed harmless” — more on men and suspicion

Posted on September 1, 2009 by Hugo Schwyzer

This post needed reprinting in light of yesterday’s response to Melissa McEwan. This post below originally appeared in September, 2006:

In my "letter to a young pro-feminist" post of September 6, 2006, I wrote:

Don’t be hurt or frustrated if you encounter people who are initially suspicious of your professed egalitarianism. In our deeply sexist culture, men are "guilty until proven innocent." That’s our own damned fault, frankly, and the sooner we cheerfully accept the burden of proving ourselves innocent, the better off we’re all going to be. (I’ve blogged about this before.)

Rex commented:

I really can’t agree with you on "guilty until proven innocent". Males are not born sexists, homophobes, rapists, or what have you.

Sorry, but I’ve read far too many articles and reports about countries and cities in those countries where "guilty until proven innocent" is the default operating standard and it’s nothing short of hell.

And Jeremy replied, nicely:

Yes, the principle "innocent until proven guilty" is vital to a free society, but it only applies if you are in court being charged with a crime… you do *not* have the right to be assumed harmless. If I’m walking home late at night and a woman takes the trouble to keep her distance from me, well, it really sucks that she’s acting as though I’m a potential threat but guess what, I just have to deal with it. I *don’t* have the right to demand that a passing stranger treats me the way I would prefer them to.

The bold emphasis is mine, not Jeremy’s. It’s an important point he makes, and a good one.

I wrote a few years back about the frustration of the "good guy" who is judged by the actions of others. I wrote:

First of all, the obvious point is that women’s intuition, while not entirely the stuff of myth, is not so powerful that it can automatically separate "good guys" from the bad. No woman can walk down the street and as she passes a man, know with certainty that he isn’t a threat. Given the high incidence of rape and assault and harassment and other forms of mistreatment, a woman would be a fool to leave herself continually vulnerable. The old adage "Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me" seems to apply here. When a simple smile is so frequently misunderstood and construed as a sexual invitation, American women generally do have to operate on the assumption that men are guilty until proven innocent.

I stand by that today.

When I hear my brothers complaining that women don’t smile enough at them, or don’t respond to their "innocent hellos", I am reminded of my white friends who are bewildered and indignant when people of color point out their white privilege to them. Men who complain about being "guilty until proven innocent" are demanding to be seen as individuals, separate from their perceived sex and the history that goes with it.

While "innocent until proven guilty" is an excellent guideline for courtroom proceedings, it doesn’t translate nearly as effectively into public life and relations between the sexes. When men complain that women are suspicious of their intentions merely because they are men, they are forcing women into the role of the district attorney, the one shouldered with the burden of proving guilt. In a society where women, rather than men, are overwhelmingly the victims of harassment and assault, those who have suffered most are the ones being asked to lay aside their prior experience and knowledge and approach each new male in their lives with a blank slate, free from judgment. That’s a hell of a weight to ask women to carry, and a hell of a risk to ask them to take, again and again and again.

In our culture, where rape and harassment and abuse are so common, men have lost the right (if it ever existed) to insist that women should be able to differentiate (in a matter of seconds) between the harmless and the threatening. A man is entitled to a presumption of innocence from a jury in a courtroom, but not from his classmate with whom he tries to strike up what she ought to know is just an innocent conversation!

Is it frustrating to be viewed with suspicion merely because of one’s sex? Heck yes. (Is it frustrating to be viewed as a sexual object merely because one is young and female? Ask around.) Men ought to be angry that they need to "prove their harmlessness". Indeed, they ought to be enraged! But our anger is rightly directed not at women who have been the victims (individually and collectively) of predatory males, but at those men who have "poisoned the well" for everyone else. Rather than demand that women "smile more" or "trust more" or "just know that I’m a good guy", men need to channel their frustration at being "pre-judged" into a commitment to end what it is that causes women’s suspicion in the first place.

Holding other men accountable, challenging sexist and objectifying language and behavior in yourself and in other males (whether or not women are around) is the single most effective thing men can do to change the culture of "guilty until proven innocent." Rape, assault, and harassment are allowed to flourish not merely through the actions of a few "bad apples", but through the unwillingness of the "nice guys" to challenge other men. Silence is, in practical terms, tacit consent and approval.

There’s more to being a "good guy" than not raping women. Good guys hold themselves and other men accountable, in public and in private. That’s a high standard to meet, particularly for the young. But it’s only by meeting that standard that men can help to change the culture.