Thanks for this post and for creating a space for the ensuing discussion. I've learned some things from it that will be helpful.
To give a little background, I'm a high school teacher. One of my non-negotiable classroom rules that I'm constantly reminding kids of is that "'Stop' means stop."--when kids are teasing each other, either verbally or physically, any communication in any form (verbally or non-verbally) that a behavior is unwelcome means the behavior must stop immediately.
A lot of the kids are surprised when I invoke this rule, because most of them don't think about the idea that "Stop" needs to mean stop everywhere, all the time, not just in a dating situation. There's a pervasive idea, which I see in many teenage interactions (more often in male-on-female interactions than vice-versa) that it's OK to ignore protestations and requests to stop until the person intensifies the request. To me, this is the crux of the problem. It's not just a rape issue--it's a bullying issue that can lead to myriad undesirable outcomes, of which rape is the most extreme.
Oh, thank you for posting this, and for doing it in the first place! This is something I have lifelong issues with, and something I try to be very mindful of as I raise my daughter. I have fewer issues in the classroom because I teach on the college level, and my students interact with each other outside of class much less (although even then, there have been times I've had to intervene), but reading this made me very happy.
Hell, it's something I'm working on with my cat, which sounds silly and trivial until you think about how disturbing it is to have thoughts like "Well, if I pick her up and cuddle her often enough, eventually she'll get used to it and maybe start to like it" about anyone or anything. I know exactly where that concept of "if she endures it enough she'll like it and that will make it retroactively okay" comes from, and I want to uproot all instances of it.
(And she is so cute. And soft. And sometimes I just can't help myself augh augh ew.)
(If it helps any, when the boy-cat tries to lick the girl-cat's head and she swats him away, I always tell him "No means no!" and shoo him off so he can't try to push the issue.)
Yes! I am trying to teach my kids that saying stop means it will stop. (Well, more trying to teach myself that...) It is hard to override your own conditioning, even with simple things like tickling.
I have a friend of a friend whose daughter couldn't get someone to stop tickling her until she yelled "safeword" at them. Definitely brings the point home.
You know, most of the truly great frustrations of my childhood come from just not being able to get my siblings to accept, "This is a line. This is important to me. This really, really upset me, and even if you think I'm overreacting, you should stop it." And my parents did not step in, but backed the, "You're overreacting." Man, one thing I hope I don't repeat.
Tickling. Now THAT is an arena of violation that REALLY sets me off to discuss. (maybe I should make my own post). How many of us, as children, were sadistically tickled by larger people who WOULD NOT STOP and who insisted we must be enjoying it? Like orgasm in rape situations, the laughter is a physiological response that does NOT equate to enjoyment. Huge parallels with rape.
Thank you for taking boundaries, and the teaching of same, seriously with your kids. All parents should do so.
I, uh, have a really bad neck trigger to this day because of this, actually.
When I was in sixth or seventh grade, my younger brother and my best friend at the time thought it was a good idea to tie me up and tickle me. I couldn't get away, and I couldn't convince them to stop, and I was trapped and helpless for what felt like an eternity.
My neck is the most ticklish part of me. To this day, if someone touches my neck, the least extreme response will be to flinch away badly and then provide as calm an explanation of "Do not fucking touch me there" as I can manage. But I have also had full-on breakdowns where I end up curled up on the ground in a ball, sobbing.
Under extremely limited, very specific circumstances when I have given my full consent, I can repress this response--for instance, for my mother to give me a back massage. But for the most part, my body says "you cannot touch me there," because it--I--still cannot trust that if someone touches, that if I ask, they will stop, and if they do not stop, that I can make them stop.
Years ago at a party, a couple of guys decided it would be funny to pick me up by my wrists and my ankles, drag me into my bedroom, and tickle me (their brand of "tickling" involving poking me hard in the ribs). I told them to stop. I SCREAMED at them to stop. I got my hands on a stapler and a pair of scissors and tried to stab them to get them to stop. (I wasn't joking around, either -- I was fully prepared to jam those scissors between their ribs if that's what it took.) They pried my weapons out of my hands and kept tickling. When they finally did stop, I told them they were fucking assholes. And I privately thought everyone else at the party was also a fucking asshole for not stopping them.
But it wasn't until I posted about the incident in the usenet newsgroup we were all part of that one of them actually caught on that I had in fact not enjoyed it, it wasn't fun for me, and I had been genuinely terrified and miserable. He actually apologized, quite nicely. The other guy? Never said a word.
I once kicked a good friend in the head because he wouldn't stop tickling me; I kicked another friend down a flight of stairs for it. Pure reflex, both times -- fight-or-flight kicked in and my body picked "fight".
Fortunately, since then I've managed to alert pretty much everyone ahead of time that tickling me will probably get them seriously injured, so it hasn't happened again. Apparently I'm sufficiently scary that they believe me. ;)
I have very ticklish legs and some friends (and siblings) would take advantage of that fact. Mostly, I didn't protest very much because it didn't bother me very strongly, though I did warn them that if I kicked them reflexively it was their fault and that if I fell and injured myself (I'm kind of a klutz, and, yes, I do have a tickling related scar) I would never let them forget it. Mostly, though, with those understandings I was okay with it.
But I have one strong memory of being at a theatre competition with touchy-feely theatre kids in high school, and while my friends C. and M. mercilessly when for my legs, a boy from another school who was sitting next to me joined in. We immediately shut down, and I believe I let out a loud, "What the fuck, man?" (and probably kicked him in the shins). I was glad my friends closed ranks around me, but I was just unnerved -- I didn't like physical contact very much, except from a few close friends whom I let get away with things like this, and for a strange boy to tickle my thighs really upset me. He, of course, had no idea what the problem was.
To give a little background, I'm a high school teacher. One of my non-negotiable classroom rules that I'm constantly reminding kids of is that "'Stop' means stop."--when kids are teasing each other, either verbally or physically, any communication in any form (verbally or non-verbally) that a behavior is unwelcome means the behavior must stop immediately.
A lot of the kids are surprised when I invoke this rule, because most of them don't think about the idea that "Stop" needs to mean stop everywhere, all the time, not just in a dating situation. There's a pervasive idea, which I see in many teenage interactions (more often in male-on-female interactions than vice-versa) that it's OK to ignore protestations and requests to stop until the person intensifies the request. To me, this is the crux of the problem. It's not just a rape issue--it's a bullying issue that can lead to myriad undesirable outcomes, of which rape is the most extreme.
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(And she is so cute. And soft. And sometimes I just can't help myself augh augh ew.)
(If it helps any, when the boy-cat tries to lick the girl-cat's head and she swats him away, I always tell him "No means no!" and shoo him off so he can't try to push the issue.)
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I have a friend of a friend whose daughter couldn't get someone to stop tickling her until she yelled "safeword" at them. Definitely brings the point home.
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Thank you for taking boundaries, and the teaching of same, seriously with your kids. All parents should do so.
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When I was in sixth or seventh grade, my younger brother and my best friend at the time thought it was a good idea to tie me up and tickle me. I couldn't get away, and I couldn't convince them to stop, and I was trapped and helpless for what felt like an eternity.
My neck is the most ticklish part of me. To this day, if someone touches my neck, the least extreme response will be to flinch away badly and then provide as calm an explanation of "Do not fucking touch me there" as I can manage. But I have also had full-on breakdowns where I end up curled up on the ground in a ball, sobbing.
Under extremely limited, very specific circumstances when I have given my full consent, I can repress this response--for instance, for my mother to give me a back massage. But for the most part, my body says "you cannot touch me there," because it--I--still cannot trust that if someone touches, that if I ask, they will stop, and if they do not stop, that I can make them stop.
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But it wasn't until I posted about the incident in the usenet newsgroup we were all part of that one of them actually caught on that I had in fact not enjoyed it, it wasn't fun for me, and I had been genuinely terrified and miserable. He actually apologized, quite nicely. The other guy? Never said a word.
I once kicked a good friend in the head because he wouldn't stop tickling me; I kicked another friend down a flight of stairs for it. Pure reflex, both times -- fight-or-flight kicked in and my body picked "fight".
Fortunately, since then I've managed to alert pretty much everyone ahead of time that tickling me will probably get them seriously injured, so it hasn't happened again. Apparently I'm sufficiently scary that they believe me. ;)
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But I have one strong memory of being at a theatre competition with touchy-feely theatre kids in high school, and while my friends C. and M. mercilessly when for my legs, a boy from another school who was sitting next to me joined in. We immediately shut down, and I believe I let out a loud, "What the fuck, man?" (and probably kicked him in the shins). I was glad my friends closed ranks around me, but I was just unnerved -- I didn't like physical contact very much, except from a few close friends whom I let get away with things like this, and for a strange boy to tickle my thighs really upset me. He, of course, had no idea what the problem was.
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