Men, feminism, and suspicion: a report on our NWSA panel

I’m in Atlanta, taking a break from presentations at the National Women’s Studies Association meeting. (I also need to get away from the exhibitor’s hall, before I buy so many books that I won’t be able to fit them in my suitcase home.)

Brian Jara, Tal Peretz, and I were the panelists for a discussion entitled Men in Anti-Sexist Activism: Problems and Potential. Brian teaches gender studies at Penn State; Tal, a graduate student at USC (and former student of Brian’s) is writing a dissertation on men doing feminist work. Our panel ran from 8:15-9:30AM — which meant a 5:15AM start for those of us whose body clocks are on Pacific time! The three of us had anticipated having ten to fifteen folks come to hear and participate; we were thrilled that more than forty showed. At the beginning, we asked the audience to pose questions for us about men and anti-sexist activism. Most of the questions asked for suggestions for more ways about recruiting men into doing anti-sexist (and explicitly feminist) work; others asked about ways to address the “white knight” or “pedestal” phenomenon, the dynamic in which men expect praise merely for being males doing this kind of work.

Brian noted that he’s fundamentally suspicious of men who come into his women’s studies classes and get involved in feminist clubs on campus. This isn’t out of his territorial desire to be the only male feminist (the one who can soak up the approbation); rather, it’s rooted in his experience of seeing so many men come into this work with motives ranging from the sexually predatory to the expectation that women’s studies is an intellectually undemanding “easy A”. Tal and I echoed Brian’s concern, acknowledging our own experience encountering men in feminist spaces whose motivations for being there are less than salutary. At the same time, we stressed the importance of encouraging men to explore feminism and start doing feminist work. The point, as I emphasized in my brief oration from the table, is to frame the reality of that suspicion as a reason for more men to get involved in anti-sexist campaigns in the classroom, on campuses, and in the “real world.”

I’ve written before about the “guilty until proven innocent” dynamic, most recently in this post on the “Schroedinger’s Rapist” question. We’ve got to recognize two things, I reiterated today: first, the reasons to fear men are legitimate, grounded in tragic reality more than in unjustified paranoia. Second, that sense of being feared, of being viewed as a potential predator at worst and cluelessly insensitive at best does real damage in the lives of an extraordinary number of men. We underestimate the degree to which young men are cognizant of the way in which they are constantly viewed with suspicion, and we often fail to take account of the toll that exacts on psyches and self-esteem. A great many young men work desperately hard, with varying degrees of success, to prove their “safety” and trustworthiness to a select handful of women. (Frequently, though not always, there is a sexual agenda that drives that effort.) Few young men recognize the solution lies in transforming an entire culture; an individual commitment to being a “good guy”, no matter how sincere and consistent, will do little to change a world in which many, perhaps most, women are raised to fear — again, with good reason — a great many, if not most, men. What’s “in it” (anti-sexist work) for men is not of course just the chance to be trusted, what’s in it for all of us is freedom from sexism, objectification, harassment and sexual violence.

To one degree or another, I’m increasingly convinced — and I reiterated this this morning — that male feminists have got to be fearless about doing work with young men. We spend so much time agonizing about ways to craft and shape a feminist message that will appeal to men, worrying about either “going too easy” or “coming on to strong”. We worry about the ways in which we might reinforce male privilege by using that very same privilege to gain access to traditionally male spaces (like fraternity houses) in order to carry a feminist message. It’s very easy to get caught in analysis paralysis, in which the anxiety about not doing it right becomes, if not incapacitating, at least immensely limiting. I noted that I’ve been working with young men around issues of sexuality and violence prevention for more than twenty years, and teaching women’s studies courses since the mid-’90s. I’ve “done it wrong” over and over again, and been challenged and held accountable by my allies for the ways in which the message I’m carrying doesn’t go far enough, or reinforces unhealthy traditional notions, or goes dangerously close to “triggering” the survivors of abuse and violence. I’v revised my syllabus and my presentations over and over and over again, and intend to keep revising until the day I retire from this work. And as any reader of this blog knows, I’ve taken my share of criticism — sometimes heated — for my approach to feminism both in the classroom and in outside justice work. Some of that criticism has been unfair, some of it has been spot on and helpful. But the one virtue for which I will give myself credit is a willingness to hear that criticism and use it discerningly to get better as a teacher and a speaker and a male advocate for feminism.

All three of us ended by noting that there’s an enduring paradox in doing men’s work in feminist spaces. When men come into feminist spaces, the danger is that we refocus the discussion away from women and onto men, who already dominate the discussion in the “outside world.” There is a danger that men will co-opt and take over feminist work — and in getting paid to teach women’s studies, for example, as both Brian and I do, potentially depriving a woman with similar qualifications from a job in the field. Those are legitimate concerns. At the same time, when men withdraw from feminist space (either out of hostility or an exaggerated reverence for preserving an all-female environment) we make it all the more difficult to build the kind of community we need to build in order to bring about lasting change. Men doing men’s studies without dialogue with and input from feminist women are missing something essential. To a lesser but still real extent, the reverse may well be true.

We’re looking to create a subgroup within NWSA on “masculinities”, and Brian collected dozens of names from interested folks. It was a stimulating and exciting talk, and I’m looking forward to more.

Back to the exhibit hall and the sessions.