Dozens of feminist blogs posted about the piece, furious not just that it suggested the onus was on women not to get raped, rather than on the rapist not to assault, but also that a feminist site carried the article.
Jaclyn, after having a heated (but respectful) conversation with the site’s editor, found herself assigned to write a response article, about her own assault and the “impotent approach,” as Jaclyn put it, of pieces like Funk’s, which suggest that young women need to be warned about the dangers of drinking in public spaces. Instead, Jaclyn suggested positive and proactive approaches to curbing rape: holding perpetrators and
their
drinking accountable, promoting messages about sex that affirm pleasure, teaching self-defense, and encouraging critical thinking.
The feminist response to Jaclyn’s piece was wonderful, but it also received a tremendous amount of backlash. A bevy of misogynist and hateful respondents took issue with every way in which Jaclyn’s story diverged from the “perfect” rape victim’s story: She had been drunk, she was willingly partying with a group of male athletes, she was unapologetic about liking to drink in public sometimes, she was no helpless virgin, and she had the nerve to claim that none of these factors made the violence perpetrated against her any less heinous, or her rapist any less culpable. The message behind the astonishing vitriol of the online attacks was clear: Women who dare to take pleasure in their bodies and live their lives on their own terms deserve whatever they get.
It was at this moment that we realized there was a hole that needed to be filled in feminist discourse about violence against women—a frank and in-depth conversation about forward-thinking ways to battle rape culture.
So often it seems as if the discourse is focused solely on the “no means no” model—which, while of course useful, stops short of truly envisioning how suppressing female sexual agency is a key element of rape culture, and therefore how fostering genuine female sexual autonomy is necessary in fighting back against it. We wanted to talk about how to make the world safer for women to say no
and
yes to sex as we please.
And while the old feminist adage that rape is about not sex but power is partially true—institutional inequities surrounding gender, race, class, ability, and sexuality make a discussion of rape impossible without an examination of power dynamics—we believe that a complex conversation about sex, and the role it plays in violence against women, is absolutely necessary. After all, sex is the weapon used by rapists and by the broader systems that encourage rape—we’d be remiss if we didn’t discuss it.
The goal of
Yes Means Yes
is to explore how creating a culture that values genuine female sexual pleasure can help stop rape, and how the cultures and systems that support rape in the United States rob us of our right to sexual power. Clearly, this is just one part of a much larger struggle—we don’t believe that empowering female sexuality is
the
answer to dismantling rape culture, or that it will stop all rape, nor is sexual freedom the only cost of rape. But until we start shining a light on all the dark corners of sexual shame and blame projected onto us by American culture, we’re going to keep spinning our wheels.
Obviously, our reasons for wanting to put together this anthology are personal. Like so many other women, rape culture has directly affected our lives. Jaclyn grew up fat, loud, and Jewish in a skinny, white, Christian world, and absorbed all the messages about undesirability that were projected onto her. So, after a guy she knew sexually assaulted her in college and destroyed any sense of sexual safety in her life, she began her healing by learning to question everything she’s learned about sexuality, embarking on an ongoing process that involves keeping the parts she likes and replacing what she rejects with whatever brings her a comfortable balance of pleasure and safety. She subsequently came out as queer, learned self-defense, and become a violence-prevention educator and activist.
For Jessica, it wasn’t a particular incident as much as a lifetime of feeling like her body didn’t belong to her. Whether it was the catcalls she’d endured since middle school, the gropings on her subway ride to school from Queens, being labeled a “slut” without quite knowing why, or having bloggers write about her breasts as if there wasn’t a human being attached to them, her body and sexuality have always felt like public property. And she has always felt unsafe because of it.
But this book isn’t just about us—far from it. These visionary contributors are joining together for a reason bigger than any of us: to heal a sexual culture that is profoundly broken, and to claim a fundamental right to bodily autonomy for everyone. The world we envision is one in which genuine pleasure is celebrated—not feared, controlled, or commodified. Where the only consent that matters is the kind that’s given freely and enthusiastically. Where each person’s body, regardless of gender, is theirs to do with whatever pleases them—and to keep safe from whatever doesn’t. It’s a world that’s much harder to reach than it is to see, but that’s not stopping us from trying, and we truly hope you’ll join us.
On how to read this book...
As we were combing over the incredible essays that were to be included in
Yes Means Yes,
a problem arose. How in the world could we create categories in this book? How could we organize these works into different sections when there were so many overlapping themes, intersections of thought, and nuances? Grouping together the essays in a traditional anthology format just seemed too stifling. After all, the point of
Yes Means Yes
is to think about how all of these issues are related, and how they come together in varied ways.
So we started to talk about blogging and online feminism, and the wonderful way that hyperlinking
1
and tagging
2
allow readers to parse information and follow conversations in the particular way that
they
want to. If you’re reading a post about sexual assault, for example, and you want to read more about statistics, you simply follow a link to some. Or from that same post, perhaps you’ll be directed to a related academic article, or a way to take action. It’s this very personal way of reading that we wanted to re-create in
Yes Means Yes.
With that in mind, in lieu of sections that group essays in a traditional front-to-back reading format, we’ve identified themes throughout the book (listed below). Every essay has multiple themes (described below), and at the end of each work, we’ll list other essays with those themes. After reading Latoya Peterson’s essay, “The Not-Rape Epidemic,” for example, if you want to read something else about youth sexuality, you’ll be directed to excellent contributions from Heather Corinna (“An Immodest Proposal”) and Hanne Blank (“The Process-Oriented Virgin”). But if you want to follow up about another theme Peterson addresses—say, the role of government in policing female sexuality and perpetuating rape culture—you can skip to a different essay instead.
Think of it as a “choose your own adventure” anthology! This way, it’s
you
who creates the narrative in
Yes Means Yes;
you are in control. We figure if we’re going to create a new paradigm for the way we talk about rape, what better place to start than with the structure of this very book?
So we ask you now to imagine a world where women enjoy sex on their own terms and aren’t shamed for it. Imagine a world where men treat their sexual partners as collaborators, not conquests. Imagine a world where rape is rare and punished swiftly.
Welcome to the world of
Yes Means Yes.
Themes:
ELECTRIC YOUTH
What’s more exciting than discovering and exploring your sexuality for the first time? How about doing it in a world that doesn’t poison the well before you take your first sip? These essays envision a world where young people can develop healthy sexual identities, free of violence, media manipulation,
and
shame.
FIGHT THE POWER
The U.S. government, especially its military and justice systems, relies on the control and violation of women’s sexual autonomy to maintain the status quo. Read these essays to explore what we’re up against institutionally and what’s required to make change.
HERE AND QUEER
Rejecting shame and claiming female sexual power can be liberating and dangerous, and so can acting on desires outside the boy/girl norm. These essays do both.
IS CONSENT COMPLICATED?
Once we move beyond “no means no,” what does consent mean? Essays on this theme cut through the confusion, getting real about what we should be getting consent for and when, what consent sounds and looks like, and why it matters.
MANLINESS
Women aren’t the only ones who need a different relationship to sexual power if we’re going to stop rape. Male sexuality is in dire need of an overhaul, and these authors want to help start that process.
MEDIA MATTERS
Does the media affect how we define our cultural beliefs about sex and rape? It sure does. These pieces show you how and why, and what to do about it.
MUCH TABOO ABOUT NOTHING
When it comes to women, sex, and rape, there are many things we’re not supposed to even think about, let alone do. These writers go there, replacing myth and misunderstanding with power, pleasure, and safety.
RACE RELATING
Few bodies are more closely policed in this country than those belonging to women of color. These authors have been there, and they want to lead us all somewhere better.
SEXUAL HEALING
Lots of us know what’s wrong with sexual culture in the United States, but what would it look like if we made it right? Step into these alternate Americas, then get to work making it happen.
SURVIVING TO YES
Visions of the future are crucial if we’re going to create the world we want, but in the meantime many, many women have already lived through sexual violence, and they’ve got a lot to say about fighting back, reclaiming sexual power, and dismantling the cultures that supported the violence against them.
THE RIGHT IS WRONG
It’s simple: The Religious Right (not the same as individual people of faith, mind you) wants total control over women’s bodies, and it doesn’t stop short of encouraging violence. These writers expose their pervasive traps and map out our escape.
1
Offensive Feminism: The Conservative Gender Norms That Perpetuate Rape Culture, and How Feminists Can Fight Back
BY JILL FILIPOVIC
“Rape, ladies and gentlemen, is not today what rape was. Rape, when I was learning these things, was the violation of a chaste woman, against her will, by some party not her spouse. Today it’s simply, ‘Let’s don’t go forward with this act.’”
—Tennessee State Senator Doug Henry, February 2008
SENATOR HENRY IS RIGHT: Rape today is not what it once was. Raping your wife is now a criminal offense. A rape survivor’s sexual history cannot be used to discredit her in court. Acquaintance rape (or date rape) has gained greater visibility, and the stranger-in-the-bushes model of sexual assault is no longer the only one we recognize. And feminist activism around sexual assault has been phenomenally successful—rape crisis centers have been built, laws have been changed, and men’s assumption of power over women has been challenged. As a result, sexual assault rates have steadily decreased, and survivors have greater resources.
But there remain creeping challenges even to the modest gains that anti-rape activists have achieved. The most effective—and perhaps the least visible, at least where rape is concerned—is the right-wing offensive on female autonomy. While religious conservatives are obvious foot soldiers in the War on Sex and in the anti-abortion and anti-contraception movements, their role in maintaining and even promoting rape culture is too often overlooked. In truth, the organized religious right—which, to be clear, is not the same thing as individual religious or conservative Americans—is waging a culture war that is about much more than which god you pray to or whether you value fetal life over reproductive choice. It is a war over the most basic of values: the human rights to bodily autonomy and self-determination, the role of women in society, and the construction of the family. And while abortion and same-sex marriage are the hot-button political issues, rape is smack dab in the middle of the battle. The conservative status quo is most threatened not just by traditional anti-rape laws, but by putting the onus on men
not
to rape, and by a feminist model of enthusiastic consent, in which women are viewed as autonomous actors empowered to request
or
decline sex—a model where “no” is respected and “yes” is an equally valid response.