Tired of This
Well fuck me running.
Driving home from class today, I stop at a red light. I'm waiting for the light to change, singing along with the radio. Then the six guys in the SUV next to me roll down their windows and start hooting and hollering at me.
In the immortal (paraphrased) words of Rebecca Watson: Guys, don't do that.
There are really only three reasons why guys would do this:
1. It's meant as a compliment.
2. They're making fun of the ugly chick.
3. They're drunk. Really, really drunk. Or it's 'funny'.
Either way, they were reducing me to an object. With 1, I'm pretty and/or fuckable, reducing my worth to sex. With 2, I'm ugly and/or unfuckable, again reducing my worth to sex. With 3,at this point their intention doesn't matter, I'm going to assume it's one of the first two.
And I get reminded that no matter how well I do in school, no matter what contributions I may make to my field or society now or in the future, people on the street will not consider me a person, but a woman. And one who isn't conventionally attractive, and is therefore worthy of derision as a bad woman.
Then I make it to my daily blog-reading, and see that over 100 Afghani girls and women were admitted to a hospital because their girls' school had been sprayed with poison.
Next: Elyse Anders, a keynote speaker at a skeptic conference, was approached by a polyamorous couple for sex, via a naked/rather pornographic picture on a card, with contact info. The couple then left with all speed.
Last year: Rebecca Watson is (possibly) propositioned early in the morning on an elevator at another conference. Without naming names, the next day she says, "Guys, don't do that," and proceeds to explain why not. The torrent of vile, misogynistic comments was...well, vile.
At this point, I'm beyond anger. I'm just sad, and a little pessimistic.
Postscript: At 11 and 12, I was being sexually and verbally harassed by a bunch of eighth graders (probably 13-14). I did report it, with the help of my parents, because I was scared to walk home. Something was done, but nothing changed. I didn't bother saying anything again. Men, we live with this EVERY DAY.
Postpostscript: I should note that these incidents in the main entry were all referenced or reported today.
Driving home from class today, I stop at a red light. I'm waiting for the light to change, singing along with the radio. Then the six guys in the SUV next to me roll down their windows and start hooting and hollering at me.
In the immortal (paraphrased) words of Rebecca Watson: Guys, don't do that.
There are really only three reasons why guys would do this:
1. It's meant as a compliment.
2. They're making fun of the ugly chick.
3. They're drunk. Really, really drunk. Or it's 'funny'.
Either way, they were reducing me to an object. With 1, I'm pretty and/or fuckable, reducing my worth to sex. With 2, I'm ugly and/or unfuckable, again reducing my worth to sex. With 3,at this point their intention doesn't matter, I'm going to assume it's one of the first two.
And I get reminded that no matter how well I do in school, no matter what contributions I may make to my field or society now or in the future, people on the street will not consider me a person, but a woman. And one who isn't conventionally attractive, and is therefore worthy of derision as a bad woman.
Then I make it to my daily blog-reading, and see that over 100 Afghani girls and women were admitted to a hospital because their girls' school had been sprayed with poison.
Next: Elyse Anders, a keynote speaker at a skeptic conference, was approached by a polyamorous couple for sex, via a naked/rather pornographic picture on a card, with contact info. The couple then left with all speed.
Last year: Rebecca Watson is (possibly) propositioned early in the morning on an elevator at another conference. Without naming names, the next day she says, "Guys, don't do that," and proceeds to explain why not. The torrent of vile, misogynistic comments was...well, vile.
At this point, I'm beyond anger. I'm just sad, and a little pessimistic.
Postscript: At 11 and 12, I was being sexually and verbally harassed by a bunch of eighth graders (probably 13-14). I did report it, with the help of my parents, because I was scared to walk home. Something was done, but nothing changed. I didn't bother saying anything again. Men, we live with this EVERY DAY.
Postpostscript: I should note that these incidents in the main entry were all referenced or reported today.