As long as we live in a culture where profitable sales and presumed security are based on shaming our most human parts, we will live in a culture where violence to our beautifully embodied selves is acceptable and expected. The antidotes to shame are affirmation and celebration. We can and we do gather to mourn our losses, resist our oppressors, and celebrate our passionate and loving selves. We need to affirm one another’s sticky, sultry, messy, and miraculous humanity in every possible way. We need to celebrate often, and well. Not just yearly and in large gatherings, but day by day and person to person. Shame is the first betrayer, but love can, and will, overcome.
If you want to read more about HERE AND QUEER, try:
• What It Feels Like When It Finally Comes: Surviving Incest in Real Life BY LEAH LAKSHMI PIEPZNA-SAMARASINHA
• Why Nice Guys Finish Last BY JULIA SERANO
If you want to read more about MUCH TABOO ABOUT NOTHING, try:
• How Do You Fuck a Fat Woman? BY KATE HARDING
• Who’re You Calling a Whore?: A Conversation with Three Sex Workers on Sexuality, Empowerment, and the Industry BY SUSAN LOPEZ, MARIKO PASSION, SAUNDRA
If you want to read more about SURVIVING TO YES, try:
• Sex Worth Fighting For BY ANASTASIA HIGGINBOTHAM
• Killing Misogyny: A Personal Story of Love, Violence, and Strategies for Survival BY CRISTINA MEZTLI TZINTZÚN
19
Why Nice Guys Finish Last
BY JULIA SERANO
SEXUALIZATION AND INTIMIDATION haunt all of us who move through the world as women. I have had men talk over me, speak down to me, and shout angrily at me when I’ve tried to deflect their unwanted passes. Strange men have hurled catcalls and sexual innuendos at me, and have graphically described what they’d like to do with me as I pass by them on city streets. I’ve also survived an attempted date rape. And frankly, I consider myself lucky that nothing more serious than that has happened to me. Needless to say, like all women, I have a great interest in bringing an end to rape culture.
Having said that, being transsexual—having had the experience of navigating my way through the world as male prior to my transition to female—has given me a somewhat different take on rape culture than the view that is often taken for granted among many cisgender (i.e., non-transgender) women. From my perspective, much of the existing rhetoric used to describe and theorize sexual harassment, abuse, and rape is, unfortunately, mired in the concept of “unilateral sexism”—that is, the belief that men are the oppressors and women are the oppressed, end of story.
Some of those who buy into unilateral sexism believe that men are inherently oppressive, dominating, and violent. Others believe that the problem is rooted in patriarchy and male socialization conspiring to condition men to become sexual predators. While there is certainly some truth to the idea that men are socialized to be sexually aggressive, even predatory, this is not the only force at work in their lives. Male children and teenagers are also regularly and explicitly reminded that they should be respectful of girls and women, and are often punished severely for picking on, or “playing rough” with, their female peers. Further, the men-are-just-socialized-that-way argument fails to explain the countless men who never sexually abuse or harass women in their lifetime.
The truth is that rape culture is a mindset that affects each and every one of us, shaping how we view and respond to the world, and creating double binds for both women and men. I call this phenomenon the predator/prey mindset, and within it, men can only ever be viewed as sexual aggressors and women as sexual objects.
The predator/prey mindset creates many of the double standards that exist in how we view female versus male sexuality. For example, on numerous occasions I’ve heard heterosexual female friends of mine ogle some man and make comments about how he has a nice ass. While one could certainly make the case that such discussions are “objectifying” or “sexualizing,” what strikes me is that they don’t
feel
that way. But if I were to overhear a group of men make the exact same comments about a woman, they would
feel
very different. They would
feel
sexualizing.
Similarly, if a male high school teacher were to have sex with one of his female teenage students, we would all be appalled. The incident would clearly
feel
like statutory rape to us. However, when the roles are reversed—when the adult teacher is female and the teenage student is male—it generally
feels
like a completely different thing to us. While it still fits the definition of statutory rape, we often have problems mustering up the
feeling
that the boy has been violated or abused. In fact, after one recent high-profile case, comedian Bill Maher joked that such teenage boys are “lucky,” and the audience broke into laughter.
What these anecdotes reveal is that the predator/prey mindset essentially ensures that men cannot be viewed as legitimate sexual objects, nor can women be viewed as legitimate sexual aggressors. This has the effect of rendering invisible instances of man-on-man and woman-on-woman sexual harassment and abuse, and it makes the idea of woman-on-man rape utterly inconceivable. It’s also why women cannot simply “turn the tables” and begin sexualizing men. After all, if a woman were to shout catcalls at a man, or were to pinch a guy’s ass as he walked by, her actions wouldn’t mean the same thing as they would if the roles were reversed. Her actions would likely be seen as suggestive and slutty, rather than intimidating and predatory.
Because of the predator/prey mindset, when a woman does act in a sexually active or aggressive way, she is generally not viewed as a sexual aggressor, but rather as opening herself up to being sexually objectified by others. This is why rape trials have historically dwelled on whether the woman in question was dressed in a revealing or provocative fashion, or whether she met with the man privately, and so on. If she did any of these things, others are likely to view her as inviting her own sexualization, as “asking for it.” The underlying assumption is that women should simply know better—they should recognize that they are prey and men are predators, and they should act “appropriately.”
What should be becoming increasingly clear is that the predator/ prey mindset enables the virgin/whore double bind that feminists have long been rallying against. Women, as prey, are expected to play down their sexuality—to hide or repress it. Good girls, after all, are supposed to be “virgins.” Women who do not downplay or repress their sexualities—that is, who do not act like prey—are viewed stereotypically as “whores.” As stereotypes, both “virgin” and “whore” are disempowering, because they both frame female sexuality in terms of the predator/prey mindset. This is why reclaiming their sexuality has been such a double-edged sword for women. If a woman embraces her sexuality, it may be personally empowering for her, but she still has to deal with the fact that others will project the “whore” stereotype onto her and assume that she’s inviting male sexualization. In other words, a woman may be personally empowered, but she is not seen as being sexually powerful and autonomous in the culture at large. In order for that to happen, we as individuals must begin to challenge our own (as well as other people’s) perceptions and interpretations of gender. We must all move beyond viewing the world through the predator/prey mindset.
To do that, we must examine an issue that has traditionally received far less attention: the ways in which the predator/prey mindset complicates the lives of men. Trans perspectives (those of trans women, trans men, and other transgender-spectrum people) can be really vital in this regard, as many of us have had the experience of moving through the world as both women and men at different points in our lives, and thus can consider the male position without undermining or dismissing female perspectives (and vice versa). In thinking about these issues, I draw heavily on my own experiences being raised as a boy, and as a young adult who was viewed by others as a heterosexual man (as I am primarily attracted to women). It is not my intention to speak on behalf of all men, both because I never fully identified as male at the time, and also because I had a very specific and privileged male existence (for example, I am white and middle-class). It will take the experiences of other trans folks and cisgender men to fill in the whole picture.
Just as it is difficult for women to navigate their way through the world, given the fact that they are nonconsensually viewed as prey, it is often difficult for men to move through a world in which they are nonconsensually viewed as predators. When I was male-bodied, it was not uncommon for women to cross the street if I was walking behind them at night, or to have female strangers misinterpret innocent things that I said as unsolicited sexual advances. It is telling, I think, that I had to deal with the predator stereotype despite the fact that my appearance was about as unthreatening as it gets: I was a very small and unmasculine/androgynous man. Bigger and more masculine-appearing men have to deal with this stereotype much more than I ever did. Perhaps no issue exacerbates the male predator stereotype more than race. I have heard several trans men of color say that they feel that the male privilege they have gained since transitioning has been very much offset by the increased visibility and the societal stereotypes of black men as predators that others are constantly projecting onto them.
While the predator stereotype affects men’s interactions with women, it probably has an even greater impact on their interactions with children. When I was male-bodied, I found that if I were to interact enthusiastically with children, women would often give me dirty looks. A trans male acquaintance of mine recently told me that the greatest loss he experienced upon transitioning from female to male was his ability to interact freely and enthusiastically with children. He teaches young children and has found that he’s had to modify his whole approach—for example, keeping more distance and not being as effusive or affectionate with his students as before—in order to avoid other adults’ viewing him as creepy or suspect.
Obviously, men make up the overwhelming majority of sexual predators. But that does not mean that
all
men are necessarily sexual predators. It is important for us to keep in mind that the men-as-predator stereotype is exactly that—a stereotype—and it creates obstacles that all men must navigate, whether they are predators or not. This is especially true for those men who are additionally marginalized with regard to race and class. Given how destructive and injuring sexual abuse and violence are to those who experience them, I wouldn’t dare suggest that it is the (potential or actual) victim’s fault for propagating these stereotypes. At the same time, the truth is that we cannot begin to have an honest discussion about how to dismantle rape culture unless we are willing to acknowledge the negative impact that this stereotype has on those men who are not predatory.
The predator stereotype also complicates and constrains male sexuality. While many feminists have discussed how the sexual object/prey stereotype creates a double bind for women in which they can only ever be viewed as either “virgins” or “whores,” not enough have considered how the sexual aggressor/predator stereotype might create a similar double bind for men. Having experienced this dilemma myself firsthand, I have come to refer to it (for reasons that will be clear in a moment) as the assholes/nice guys double bind. “Assholes” are men who fulfill the men-as-sexual-aggressors stereotype; “nice guys” are the ones who refuse or eschew it.
Just as women receive mixed messages in our culture—some encouraging them to be “virgins,” others encouraging them to be “whores”—men receive similar mixed messages. As I alluded to earlier, male children often receive lots of explicit encouragement to be respectful of women. Even in adulthood, men who make blatantly sexist comments, or who suggest (in mixed company, at least) that women are “only good for one thing” will often be looked down upon or taken to task for it. So when it comes to their formal socialization, boys/men receive plenty of encouragement to be “nice guys.”
The problem is that boys/men receive conflicting messages from society at large. This informal socialization comes mostly from the meanings and expectations that are regularly projected onto women and men, especially in the media and within the context of heterosexual relationships. Just as women are expected to fulfill the stereotype of being sexual objects in order to gain male attention, men are expected to fulfill the sexual aggressor stereotype in order to gain female attention. In other words, they have to act like “assholes.” Granted, this isn’t true in
all
situations. For example, in the progressive, artsy, and/or queer circles I inhabit nowadays, men who act like “assholes” don’t get very far. But in the heterosexual mainstream culture, men who unapologetically act like “assholes” tend to thrive.