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empathy and feminism
Aug. 17th, 2009 08:18 pmI don't always agree with Bitch, Ph.D., but this post about empathy really resonated with me.
Especially:
(I'm sure some of my female friends are going to say: it's not scary for me! I'm perfectly happy making friends with strange men on street corners after midnight! And I am happy for you. I am delighted for you. But that's not a reason to discount the experience of the many, many women for whom this is frightening -- and the many, many women who have experiential reasons to be frightened. I did the calculations: thirty percent of my close female friends have been raped. If you add in people who fought free of a would-be rapist, the number raises to forty-five percent. Their fear is not hysterical -- oh, I hate that word -- it's rational. But that's a post for another day.)
Anyway. It's a good read.
Especially:
A couple nights ago, I had gone over to the house of my dear friends to celebrate my engagement and was coming home late. I was almost home, standing at the corner waiting for the light to change, when a man approached me.
Guy: Excuse me?
Me: Yes? What?
Guy: What's your name again?
Me: I didn't tell you my name.
Guy: Oh, well, hi. What's your name? [holds out hand]
Me: Look, I don't want to tell you my name, and I don't want to talk.
Guy: Why not?
Me: It's late. [looks at phone] It's 12:30 am. I don't want to talk to you.
Guy: But I'm just being friendly. [holds out hand again] What's your name?
Me: Do you have any idea what it's like to be walking around as a woman in this city, late at night? It's scary. It's late and I want to get home and I don't want to talk to you.
Guy: [stares at me]
[stares some more]
[backs away]
[retracts his hand]
Guy: I can respect that.
Me: Thank you. Have a good night. [light changes, I cross the street and go home]
It was really bizarre—I could really see him actually considering, what is it like to be a woman walking around late at night in the city, trying to get home? Answer: it's scary, and it scary enough that you don't want to talk to anyone you don't know, no matter who they are or what they're about.
(I'm sure some of my female friends are going to say: it's not scary for me! I'm perfectly happy making friends with strange men on street corners after midnight! And I am happy for you. I am delighted for you. But that's not a reason to discount the experience of the many, many women for whom this is frightening -- and the many, many women who have experiential reasons to be frightened. I did the calculations: thirty percent of my close female friends have been raped. If you add in people who fought free of a would-be rapist, the number raises to forty-five percent. Their fear is not hysterical -- oh, I hate that word -- it's rational. But that's a post for another day.)
Anyway. It's a good read.
