On Tuesday, NCAA football hall of famer and male feminist activist Don McPherson came to speak at my school, American University, as the kickoff event for Sexual Assault Awareness Month. The event was a resounding success, largely due in part to the fact that all members of varsity sports teams, fraternities and sororities were mandated to come to the event. Because many of these students would not usually turn out to an event featuring a male feminist speaker, the mandate allowed so many more students to hear McPherson’s message than usually would. And while not everyone probably came away as inspired as I was, my hope is that those who may have never thought critically about Masculinity may start to.

I want to elaborate upon some important and points McPherson made that I think are important to share with everyone.

The first is the notion that “We have all been raised not to talk about these things”. “These things” being problems such as alcoholism, drug abuse, divorce, domestic abuse, and sexual assault. I agree with McPherson that this is a huge problem. Without talking about and acknowledging these issues as serious problems within our society, how are supposed to solve them?

Second, while talking about the prevalence of alcohol as a date-rape drug, McPherson said, “ladies night should be illegal.” I fully agree with him. Not only do ladies’ nights at bars further reinforce perceived differences between men and women, but providing women with alcohol at a reduced or no cost, such as what happens at many parties, clubs and bars, only happens with one goal: the intoxication of women to the point where they are more vulnerable to sexual assault. However, I want to be clear that this thought in no way seeks to take away blame from the men who perpetrate the majority of sexual assaults. Rather, we need to think critically about the way in which men actively use alcohol as a tool of perpetrating sexual assault.

The focus of McPherson’s presentation was around the use of misogynist language within our society. He asked the males in the audience what the worst insult they could remember from their childhood. The overwhelming majority? “You play/throw/run like a girl”. What does it mean when from such a young age, boys are told that when they do something poorly (usually a physical activity), they are similar to a girl?

McPherson said that “Implicit in the statement is that women and girls are less than [boys and men]”. For him, the fact that you can call a guy any number of epithets involving animals and inanimate objects and it is positive, buy when you call a guy a woman and it becomes insulting is one of the backbones of misogyny. When women are denigrated so much that they become a male can “hit that” or “grab a piece of that”, women become simply objects of sexual attraction, and not people with their own needs, desires, likes, and dislikes. The problem does not start in high school or in college, but from a very young age, according to McPherson.

And the problem does not stop when we remain silent. For McPherson, “silence is saying that its ok”. But we know that it is not ok to refer to women as an object, to strip them of their humanity and reduce them to their physicality. All of us, feminists of every gender, need to stand up to our friends when they use misogynistic language, we need to stand up to strangers who engage in street harassment, and we need to stand up when our society’s pop culture glorifies men who denigrate women and shuns women who stand up for themselves.

Last Friday, we could not post the interview with our Badass Activist of the week, Shira Tarrant, because of power outages due to severe weather. So, as promised, we’re posting the interview now.

This interview is part of our Badass Activist Friday series. Whether social media queens and kings, creative artists, sex educators, or just kick-ass personalities, these people harness righteous anger, instigate movements and inspire cultural change. We’re here to honor them and their work, but more importantly, to highlight how we can all get up, plug in, and Just Start Doing.

Shira holds a PhD in Political Science and is an Associate Professor in the Department of Women, Gender and Sexuality Studies at California State University in Long Beach. She has written and edited several books (including Men and Feminism and When Sex Became Gender) and she has appeared pulbications such as Ms Magazine, Bitch and AlterNet, among others.

Let’s hear what she has to say!

You have a PhD in Political Science, and are now working as a writer, speaker and activist in the fields of gender, sexuality and feminism. Can you tell us a little bit about how you got there and what inspired you to do the work you are doing now?

I’ve always known that I wanted to do work that in some way contributes to positive change in the world. There are so many ways each of us can do that — through activist work, the arts, through our everyday interactions with people. Who knew my work would involve politics, pop culture and porn!

I love my work. It blends intellectual puzzles with public action for political improvement. I spend time alone when I’m writing, and I spend other time with people when I’m teaching or traveling across the country to speak at universities and community spaces. I love getting to engage with so many people and hear their stories, challenges, and successes.

I did my doctorate at UCLA, which was kind of like boot camp. The expectations in my department were seriously demanding, but this prepared me to write clearly, speak up, and to be effective in dealing with criticism that happens when you’re willing to go public with controversial ideas. I applied to grad school because I was concerned about economic, race, gender and power disparities. I wasn’t exactly sure what I wanted to do about it, but I knew I needed to take action. Now I’m able to bring new ideas or new ways of looking at issues to people and all the work is totally worth it.

You’re also a professor at California State University, Long Beach. Do your students influence your work at all? How do they surprise you, and what topics surprise them?

I’m an associate professor in the Women’s, Gender and Sexuality Studies Department. My training as a political scientist is the foundation for my activist-scholar work on gender and sexual politics. My students are amazing. Our debates about current issues and my students’ insight and questions continually inform my work. Sometimes these conversations happen in class, sometimes they happen more casually—like when we bump into each other on campus or in the city—and a lot of times the discussions happen on Facebook. It’s not like any of us get to clock out of sexual politics at 5:00. That’s why having an ongoing exchange of ideas with my students is so valuable.

When I’m writing books or articles, I often have my students read drafts to open the topics for discussion. I write about hooking up, pornography, masculinity, pop culture, and everyday sexual politics that we all experience. It’s important that I’m talking about these issues with my students. At the same time, my students’ feedback is crucial to my work. They’re savvy about personal politics and they have a lot to say.

You’ve expressed a particular interest in the field of masculinity studies, and have contributed two books (the anthology “Men Speak Out” and your own book “Men and Feminism”). Where do you see the role of men in feminism? How can we help each other? How has the field evolved from when you got started, and what still needs work?

I just participated in a panel on men and feminism last week. The event drew a full house and we ran out of time to address all the questions from the audience. This tells me that people are super-interested in exploring the issues of men, masculinity, and progressive change. Men have a crucial role to play in feminist politics. There is strength in numbers and we need all hands on deck to make serious change. There are a lot of good men out there doing amazing political work and living ethical lives. While feminism is an intersectional movement that keeps women at the center of focus, that doesn’t mean that feminism is only for women. It’s not women’s job to clean up the dirty mess of society.

We’re living in shifting times and there’s a lot more social permission for guys to break out of The Man Box. In other words, younger guys are coming into a world where the expectations to be hard-ass providers who don’t cry are increasingly understood as limiting stereotypes. At the same time, we still have serious wage disparities, problems with male sexual assault and violence against women, and men still face serious risk for breaking social norms. In other words, there’s been a lot of improvement but there’s still a lot of work to be done.

Another topic you’re written about extensively is the recent flurry of interest in our so-called “hook-up culture”. Where do you think this moral outrage is coming from? In your recent article you cite research done by Heather Corinna (founder & editor of Scarleteen), showing that the amount of “hooking up” that’s going on is hardly something new. So why is so much ink still being wasted on this?

Good questions! The cultural freak-outs about so-called hooking up reflect a deep discomfort with teen and young-adult sexuality. There are lots of reasons to have open, honest conversations about sexual safety, agency, and bodily integrity. But I see a lot of Reefer Madness-style shock tactic that doesn’t do the job. That just shuts down conversation instead of providing a forum for dialogue. What’s particularly concerning is when feminism — a progressive movement — takes a stance that “puts us in bed” with the conservative religious right. When politics make strange bedfellows we need to seriously re-think our political arguments.

Are you working on any new projects right now that you’d like to tell us about?

My new book is Fashion Talks: Undressing the Power of Style (SUNY Press). The book grapples with the tension between expression and constraint, the ways fashion is a way we express ourselves but, at the same time, can create political limitations on beauty, sexuality, feminism, gender, class, and cultural imperialism. Can there ever be a truly indie bridal outfit? What’s up with baby bumps as Hollywood fashion accessories? Does Gothic Lolita style subvert sexual objectification? And what do we make of the complicated politics of colonial power and steampunk?

Be on the lookout for Fashion Talks in 2012. This is the only book that features Cruella du Vil, Michelle Obama, Andrea Dworkin, and Bruno all in one collection! Also, I have to add that Fashion Talks is a joint project with my fabulous co-editor, Marjorie Jolles, a philosophy professor at Roosevelt University in Chicago. I have to give her huge thanks!

Thank you so much for your time and your great answers!

It’s Friday, and we all know what that means! Interviews with your favorite badass feminists and activists. Whether social media queens and kings, creative artists, sex educators, or just kick-ass personalities, these people harness righteous anger, instigate movements and inspire cultural change. We’re here to honor them and their work, but more importantly, to highlight how we can all get up, plug in, and Just Start Doing.

This week, we talked to filmmaker Fivel Rothberg, who is just putting the finishing touches on his documentary House Devil, Street Angel, a very personal story about depression and abuse. If you would like to support him in this, you can check out the movie’s website or the project’s Kickstarter site. But first, let’s hear some more about Fivel’s activism and his current project.

Introduce yourself to our readers! What has your journey to activism been like? Did you find your way here on accident, or was it a purposeful journey? Where do you see your role as an activist and what are you trying to achieve in your work?

I am a Brooklyn-based, Philly born and raised, father of a 13-year-old son, Noam. I’m also a media maker and I teach two courses at a small SUNY college in Long Island.  My route to activism regarding abuse, mental illness and masculinity has been an incredibly challenging one. It is a purposeful journey now, but it was a circuitous path. And it’s one that is constantly evolving as I strive to learn more about gender based violence, and in turn share my story in House Devil, Street Angel to spark dialogues about issues like abuse, depression and fatherhood. My aim with the film is to use it as a consciousness-raising tool, primarily with men.  We need to be able to learn how to talk about these issues with one another, support each other and grow as men.

Years ago, I considered myself a media activist. I helped to establish the Independent Media Center in Philly (Philly IMC) and later worked for organizations like Scribe Video Center & the Media Mobilizing Project (MMP). For a time, I volunteered with the Kensington Welfare Rights Union to produce a cable access-style TV show about poverty in Philly and the nation. I wanted to use my skills, and class and race status, to aid marginalized people in producing their own media. It’s still pretty standard in the documentary and social issue media world for people of great privilege to speak on behalf of the so-called “voiceless.” Even though access to the Internet and cheaper recording devices has revolutionized the media landscape, the paradigm remains the same. Places like Scribe and MMP flip that paradigm, and that’s what I love about them.

You’re currently working on finishing up your movie House Devil, Street Angel, an autobiographical documentary about the abuse cycle and depression. When and how did you come to decide to make such a personal film? What has the experience of making this movie been like?

It’s been insanely challenging. I completed a large portion of this film as my thesis project at Hunter College, where I graduated back in January 2011. But I didn’t want to work on it for a while after graduating because it was so emotionally draining. I recently came back to the film because I know in my heart that it has value.  And I’ve been told that it has value by my peers and advisors. Most importantly, I’m motivated by the sincere emotional responses that I’ve gotten when I’ve shown it to groups of men. Certainly, people of all genders can connect with the film, but I think it’s been particularly meaningful for men to hear someone be so open about their struggles as a father, a man with depression, a survivor of abuse and as a former perpetrator who has come around.

I first started documenting how my son goes back and forth between vastly different households when he was about two or three-years-old.  And I thought that I would eventually make a film about his experiences as a child of a very privileged white Jewish dad and a poor Puerto Rican mom.  Our families lived only miles apart geographically, but they were worlds away socially. My son’s mom also came from an abusive home; on top of that she faces additional challenges to face as a Latina, that was really eye opening too. It inspired me to work on the rights of Puerto Rican political prisoners and learn the history of one of our nation’s oldest non-mainland colonies.

After being a shitty partner, and a totally freaked out young dad, I worked on being a new kind of father to my son. When Noam’s mom and I broke up, he would spend half of the week with me and half of the week with her.  When he was about seven-years-old she moved out of Philly with Noam and her boyfriend.  I later I decided to finally leave Philly and pursue grad school in NYC. During grad school I slowly began to approach making more personal work. Judith Helfand, who made Blue Vinyl and Healthy Baby Girl, said that successful documentaries depend on intimate access to one’s subjects and as a filmmaker with few resources you are your own best subject. I didn’t have to work for years to build trust with my son or family – they’re part of the package.

So with that in mind, I began a project that I had put off for years – a doc about Noam’s experiences. Yet, I found that problematic and realized that this film opened up unresolved issues  – like how abuse, trauma and neglect made me the person and parent that I am. So that began the arduous but beautiful process that is represented in House Devil, Street Angel.

You’ve already connected with some non-profits and started showing your movie. What has it been like for you to share your work? What kind of reactions have you gotten so far, what conversations have you sparked?

Thus far, several dozen people have seen the film in its rough cut stage. And after being inspired by projects like The Line Campaign, I knew that I needed to reach out and get non-profits and leaders on board so that I could finalize it and get it out there. At the moment House Devil, Street Angel has three partners: CONNECT, a gender violence prevention organization, Voice Male Magazine, a pro-feminist men’s issue publication, and NYC Dads Group, a Meetup group for fathers in the region. I hope that groups with similar goals will join them, help spread the word about the project, and eventually use the finished film in classrooms and workshops.  This film can help generate a really powerful conversation that we as men need to have about the intersections of culture, social forces like patriarchy, and personal choice when it comes to abuse.  We have to figure out how to change. And that’s a process, not a one-size-fits-all scenario.

It’s been both fulfilling and exhausting to share this film.  I screened the rough cut, when it was called Internal Exposure, to members of NYC Dads right after I graduated in order to get feedback.  Only the organizers of the screening knew what the film was about. Most of the other dads in the audience had no idea what they were getting into. They just came knowing that a fellow dad wanted to show a work-in-progress.  I introduced the film and sat back, and listened carefully for any sign of reaction as it played.  They were utterly quiet, except for some laughs as Noam, at three-years-old, says, “I hate your camera” as he refuses to eat breakfast. Afterwards they were both eager to ask me questions about the film, and several men in the audience shared very touching stories about their experience as survivors, some with depression, and how they have had to worked to be better parents. I know my prejudice was challenged when one man, who looked like a bit of a jock, came up to me afterwards and really opened up. That was incredible.

People really get into the film and the characters. Which is pretty strange when I am a character in it, and then present for folks to ask me very personal questions. When I shared the film with the staff at CONNECT, they were supportive, but grilled me on it.  That probably happened because the film can be triggering, even to an audience that is trained in these issues, and they wanted to know if I’m on point or not.

I had similar experiences with the Men’s Roundtable at CONNECT.  And it was shown without me to a group called Hombres Dialogando (Men Dialoging), also a project of CONNECT. I was told by the group’s leader, Marlon Walker, that the film helped the men talk about how hard it is as a survivor to confront your abuser, especially when it’s a family member, and the painful feelings that happen when abusers do not admit what they did was abusive. Certainly older generations in our society do not have a conception of abuse as being beyond physical, so that adds to the process of reconciliation.

On another note, I am super excited that fellow filmmaker Sam Feder is going to work on House Devil, Street Angel in an Associate Producer or Co-producer. We’re still working on the details, but we just agreed to that this week. Sam Co-Directed Boy I Am and is now directing a documentary about Kate Bornstein called Make Me a Star.

You say in the trailer that changing our perceptions of masculinity is at the heart of the effort to prevent abuse. Can you elaborate on that?

It’s not so much changing the perception of masculinity, so much as changing and challenging the dominant form of masculinity itself– what some term “hegemonic masculinity.”

For most of my life, I was very unaware of my entitlement as a male. Just as white people are less aware of their “whiteness,” I was not conscious of my masculinity, even as it played a pivotal role in my existence. Further, as an anarchist I had this mind set that I was beyond or above all that. I’d thought about my class and race – but really didn’t consider that I could be sexist, patriarchal or abusive. Partially, that had to do with the fact that I’m an introvert at heart who has struggled since childhood with depression, self-hate and sustaining long-term friendships. In tandem, because my abuser was male I’ve had a very hard time reaching out to other men and trusting men. Those are both things that I think could have helped me be more accountable and change as a man. On top of that there’s the basic fact that as men we are not socialized to speak about these issues nor hold each other accountable. I know I’m still figuring it out. I think in the anarchist or activist community there could have been a better support network for accountability. I found a few people to connect with, who were knowledgeable about abuse, but I was utterly frightened about being castigated by the community and didn’t out myself.  And there really wasn’t a men’s group or something similar to turn to.

That said, in the broader culture of the U.S., we are socialized to do the exact opposite – suck it up, be a “man” and drink a beer if you’re upset. Or maybe share your most intimate feelings with a female friend or partner. Just make sure you don’t try that with another guy. If an average man sought out other men to talk about their fucked up behavior, what do you think they’d say? They would probably excuse it.

That’s where changing masculinity comes in. Feminism is all about freedom for all of humanity, not just women – as readers of this blog well know.  And building a feminist masculinity can be, and will be, liberatory for all genders. My film is a deeply inspired by the feminist tenet “the personal is political,” as it’s an intimate documentary with broader intentions.  I would not have the chuzpah to make House Devil, Street Angel if it were not for personal filmmakers like Marlon Riggs, Doug Block, Jonathan Caouette, Lourdes Portillo and Alan Berliner and feminist / personal / activist filmmakers like Barbara Hammer, Michelle Citron and of course The Line Campaign’s own Nancy Schwartzman. My aunt’s work in the personal and political documentary world contributed to my trajectory as well.

The kickstarter campaign for the movie is just taking off. What can we do to help you?

The best way to help immediately would be to check out the Kickstarter campaign (http://kck.st/nhmFsO), contribute and / or share it with your friends, family and colleagues.  I appreciate any kind of support folks can provide.

For the long run, please get in touch via the project’s website, join the mailing list, and look out for the final film. If you or someone you know runs a men’s group, feminist group or parent’s group for instance, on or off a college campus, please consider hosting a screening.  And thanks!

You are welcome!  Thanks for sharing your thoughts with us, and good luck with the project!

Feminism is an wide-ranging movement, and we at WIYL feel it’s so important to include activists working to broaden our perspectives and work in negotiating the complexity of intersectional oppressions, making the voices of marginalised groups heard. For this mini-series, we’ll be focusing on men and women who critique the gender hierarchy across all boundaries – cultures, race, age and medium.

Here’s Andre Blackman of Pulse + Signal!

Andre Blackman is an agent of change and innovation within the public health community. He is very passionate about the role of new media, mobile technology and other useful innovations as it relates to health communications and the improvement of public health in general.

Andre has been a featured speaker/commentator on a number of Public Health 2.0 related conversations around HIV/AIDS, mobile health, health disparities and new forms of health journalism. He has worked alongside organizations such as the Black AIDS Institute, Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and the Dept. of Health and Human Services to educate and promote innovation around important health initiatives and opportunities.

Pulse + Signal postulates that social media, mobile technologies and integrated offline engagement are becoming very necessary to create the effective dialogues needed for lasting impact. Can you tell us a little about why, and how, particularly in terms of talking about healthy sexual relationships, sex education and violence against women?

Absolutely, the world where we are living in now – despite having a heavy investment with technology – is still dependent on our social & very human interactions. This absolutely includes our relationships with loved ones and sexual health. The tools such as social media & mobile technology are just that: tools that help us stay in touch, communicate and manage information.

For example, I first learned about The Line Campaign after attending the Sex::Tech conference last year and getting connected with Nancy in person (offline). Then I started following the Campaign on Twitter and have been connected there virtually, staying on top of relevant news (social media). Nowadays, when I see information around filmmaking or sexual health, I send a direct message on Twitter to you all to make sure learn about it as well (real time valuable information). The awareness + action that gets spurred when all of these factors come together can be very powerful for combating tragic issues such as violence against women. These tools and channels have opened up doors that no longer can easily be closed.

Considering the use of technology is an economic privilege, to some extent, do you think the online activism that has been lauded as being far-reaching in fact necessary marginalises certain groups?

The issue of the digital divide has been ongoing for some time now – however with the advancement of mobile technology and how mobile phones are getting into the hands of most everyone, the privilege barrier is starting to decrease around technology. This is especially true if we are talking about people of color/underserved populations. The Pew Internet Project has a ton of research data on usage and access issues for various demographics. I think the bigger issue is about digital literacy and making sure that those who want to get plugged in actually know how and where they can get resources on joining the bigger campaign – I think this is the root of any sort of marginalization in the digital activism landscape.

Can you talk a little more about your experiences as a man of colour and an activist? Was there a time where you felt your issues were being overlooked by the greater majority, and how your identity and personal experiences play into your work? How do you think it informs your work from a gendered perspective?

I do remember the first time that I was overlooked unfairly – the situation has been undoubtedly seared into my memory. As one of a few people of color in the high school I attended (initially), I took part in the science fair and was excited because science was my passion then. Knowing some NIH scientists I made an effort to do something pretty impactful and started doing actual lab work around genetics. When the time came around for judging of the projects – I did not place anywhere, not even an honorable mention. It struck me as highly odd until my science teacher mentioned that the judges didn’t feel like I could do this level of science and that I probably had the work done for me. It was “above my intelligence” you could say. From that moment on I realized that sometimes things don’t always go your way because you’re smart enough or passionate enough. That moment also taught me to work even harder at things that I want to succeed at even when others (or even myself) tell me that it can’t be done.

This really became clearer after going to school for public health in college – I didn’t have that many male colleagues in my classes (I was the only one in several) and being African American set me apart even further. It seemed as if public health had a certain “face” to the field and it gave me pause to think about where this field is going as well as its faults. Much of what I’m advocating for these days in an opening up of the public health field to better ideas to improve the health of communities. Instead of one-off events in low income communities, we should be working alongside the community to develop sustainable plans. Also, incorporating other fields to come up with designs and technologies that can truly give the field an effective facelift. Diverse thinking is what I’m about because of those experiences.

Do you think healthy relationships and sexual education play into public health concerns? Do you think is is important that they do?

Public health absolutely has to do with healthy relationships, especially since it brings together issues such as mental health and sexual health. This is what I was getting at when I was discussing what public health should look like – making sure that people understand how to have healthy relationships plays a large role as to how well they do at work, how they take care of their families, how they treat themselves on a daily basis, etc. It impacts everything in the long run, which is why relationships/sexual health education is so important in the public health world. The field stems from the prevention angle so the more we can educate people, the better we can prevent them from having to be hospitalized, needing medication, etc.

Do you feel that grassroots activist organisations and non-profits are taking full advantage of the techological tools available to them? Where do you see these methods and processes going in the future?

I think the non-profit world is booming right now as far as the resources that are available now with online tools and social media. Organizations for a cause are now able to grow their donors, fellow activists and rally them around events/initiatives that they care about. The Nonprofit Technology Network (NTEN) is a brilliant source for information on how to do everything under the digital sun for a grassroots activist group or nonprofit to fulfill their mission.

In the future I see these organizations being better at being available for people to plug into as well as finding their fans, volunteers, activists. Social technologies are getting better at connecting with two aspects that I think will be even more important down the line: local & mobile.

Are there any drawbacks to technological tools, do you think they’re distancing or can be overused?

Just like any other tool (online or otherwise), they can be abused and improperly managed. Just as there are several positives about social media, if used incorrectly, can cause unwanted attention and damaged reputations. We’ve all seen situations where an individual is using a Twitter application managing multiple accounts and tweets from the wrong one – usually with a message that is inconsistent with that account’s focus, to put it gently. In my opinion though, the positives outweigh the negatives and making sure you use the tools wisely is important. Stick with a few that you see working for your cause.

How do you think we, as young activists and students can best make use of our resources to instigate and create change?

When I talk to students about jumping into a career, I usually advise them to take part in groups and organizations through internships while still in school. This is pretty much the best way to understand roles and responsibilities as well as making use of the tools on a daily basis. That way, you’ll gain a better understanding of how to use these resources to fulfill your own causes while making great relationships and contacts.

Also, go ahead and start writing for a blog – either one that already exists around your subject area or start your own. Don’t be afraid to ask to write a guest blog post or reach out to leaders involved in your cause. With these tools and resources, the barriers to access individuals and groups are very low, so take advantage of it!

You can find Andre’s thoughts on public health and innovation through his blog, Pulse + Signal and via Twitter as @mindofandre.

Feminism is an wide-ranging movement, and we at WIYL feel it’s so important to include activists working to broaden our perspectives and work in negotiating the complexity of intersectional oppressions, making the voices of marginalised groups heard. For this mini-series, we’ll be focusing on men and women who critique the gender hierarchy across all boundaries – cultures, race, age and medium.

So without further ado…

Here’s Matt Ignacio of the National Native American AIDS Prevention Center (NNAAPC)

Matt Ignacio, M.S.S.W., is a member of the Tohono O’odham Nation, a federally recognized Native American Tribe located in Southern Arizona. As a public health consultant, he has over 16 years experience promoting sexual health and drug user health advocacy, working mostly with minority populations. He most recently worked for the National Native American AIDS Prevention Center (NNAAPC) as the Director of Training and Development. Most recently he graduated as a fellow from the Center for Progressive Leadership Fellowship Program – Colorado State office in 2010.

You work specifically with HIV prevention and queer health issues – can you speak a little bit about how consent, sexual assault come into your work?

When working with Native American, Alaskan Native and Native Hawaiian (herein ‘Native’) communities, issues of: sexual assault, consent/rape, and domestic violence certainly come into play when trying to promote sexual health and wellness. Assault, rape, and violence are NOT traditional Native values. These acts can create tremendous amounts of shame and stigma for the victim. As a result, these acts often go unreported. Furthermore, on some of the Reservation and rural communities I’ve worked with, reporting these crimes to law enforcement not only negatively impacts the victim, but also negatively impacts immediate and extended family members as well. In some situations, it can also negatively impact the entire community! A way to address these issues is to provide culturally-specific education and empowerment opportunities, as well as providing culturally relevant resources and linkages to care.


Are your personal experiences and identity important to your activism? Can you speak a little more as to how or why?

My experiences and identity are critical to my activism. Most of us have experienced some form of discrimination – the color of our skin, our sexual orientation/identity, where we are from, how we were raised, etc… I’ve certainly experienced and witnessed discrimination. Rather than sit back and be silent, I’ve had opportunities to be mentored by, work with and befriend some very outspoken Native leaders. They’ve all instilled the value of helping those most in need and to speak up and speak out for folks who do not have a voice. At the end of the day, my hope is that I’ve helped others do the same.

Sexual health is important for all, but what are specific problems that Native Americans, particularly those who identify as queer run into regarding education? What are the barriers to them speaking up, or getting access to the information they need? (Do you think that the dialogue around sex education can marginalize the experiences of minority youth?)

To a large extent, there continues to be a lot of stigma towards queer-identifying individuals in Native communities. Historically, every community member (gay, straight, etc…) had a value – a place or a role within the community. Today, for whatever reason, albeit historical trauma(s), colonization and/or adopting religious values – things have changed. This often makes it difficult to educate all Native community members in an honest and engaging way. As you can imagine, it is very difficult for those who are queer to access correct and life-affirming information. Interestingly, over the past decade, I’ve seen amazing Nation-wide movements by queer-identified Native people through community-based organizing, HIV/AIDS prevention efforts and political involvement and investment. It’s an exciting time!


Tell us about some people, activists, artists, writers, who inspire you, and how!

I’m inspired by and try to learn from leaders who fearlessly take action and lead by example. By no means am I fearless. In fact, it’s something I have to work on all the time. My parents and relatives are also prime examples of people who inspire me. I’m always fascinated by their stories of survival, resilience and humor. There’s a lot to learn from our own histories.

What have been the most rewarding and frustrating experiences working to advance getting appropriate, and culturally relevant information to ethnically and culturally diverse groups and minorities?

Some of the most rewarding experiences I’ve had advancing culturally relevant education is when individuals take the information I’ve presented to them, such as sexual health information, and then share it with their families or larger community. If I can play a small role in starting a dialogue that otherwise would not take place between friends, family and community – I’ve done my job. As far as ‘frustrating experiences,’ I suppose the length of time it takes to create lasting positive change. As progressively-minded people, we want change overnight – or at least I do! I have to remind myself to slow-down and learn from the process, not just from the outcomes.

What are the best things we as young readers, writers and activists do to ensure our sex education is meeting our needs and those of others? Any words of advice?

For myself, I force myself to ask the difficult questions and support those with little or no voice. We can’t meet our own sexual health needs if we don’t ask the difficult questions to our educators and/or health care professionals. Second, there is strength in numbers! Supporting those who are often ignored or overlooked is incredibly powerful, meaningful and socially responsible.

So without further ado…

Here’s Joseph Vess of Men Can Stop Rape!

Joseph Vess is Men Can Stop Rape’s Director of Training and Technical Assistance. In this role he conducts dozens of trainings, workshops and presentations around the world every year, building the skills of professionals to engage men and boys and guiding MCSR’s Men Creating Change (MCC) program. Before joining MCSR, Joe was a community organizer and educator at the DC Rape Crisis Center, where he worked with young adults and college students, LGBTQ populations, and communities East of the Anacostia River to explore grassroots, community-based solutions to sexual violence.

How did you first get involved with MCSR? How did your personal experiences play into your decision to get into activism, prevention and education?

I first got involved as a volunteer, doing weekend programs with high school men we work with. I started doing more and more, worked at the DC Rape Crisis Center for a while, and came back to MCSR about 4 years ago. I got into it primarily because of my experiences with women I care about. I have been involved in social justice work and activism for many years, but it wasn’t until I was almost 25 that I began to develop a good understanding of men’s violence against women. Around that time two things happened: a friend of mine told me about how she was sexually assaulted in college, and I began dating a woman who shared with me many of her experiences of discrimination, harassment, and just the general garbage she has to put up with as a woman. It really bothered me that these things happened, and I realized that as a man speaking out about these issues I could have an even larger impact because there weren’t (and still aren’t) enough men talking about this. And what we always heard from women about how we could contribute was, “talk with other men.” In that respect and in so many others, we as men who do this work are truly standing on the shoulders of giants, the amazing women who have been doing this work for centuries. They still lead the way and make everything I do possible; my debt to the women who have taught me is incalculable.

Can you tell us a bit about the unique role of men in the fight against sexual assault and rape? Do you think feminist activism has underestimated the potential of men as allies and how you think we can better involve them?

I don’t think feminism has underestimated the potential of men as allies, I think as men we haven’t stepped up and played the role we can and should. I think the feminist movement is still finding the most effective ways to engage men, but the desire has always been there. In terms of men’s role, I think the main thing is that men are playing a role where by and large we weren’t before. Beyond that is the fact that men are often socialized to listen more to men than women; so as men doing this work, our role is to support and back up the things women have been saying to reinforce that message, and to help other men be better able to hear women’s voices. It’s often surprising for men to hear another man speak out against violence against women, so that means it is very much our responsibility, and a tremendous opportunity, to do so.

What do you think are the most prevalent attitudes of young college males regarding sex, consent and boundaries? Why do you think these are the way they are?

That’s such a huge question to answer because I think that college men, like all men, are all over the map with this stuff. One unique thing I’ve noticed recently in many places I go is that many men are disenchanted with their opportunities to have relationships with women, in whatever form. Guys who are looking for a long-term female partner are disenchanted and frustrated by a culture they see as prioritizing hook ups. Guys into hook ups wish that hook up culture was more healthy, with less of a reliance on alcohol as a social lubricant. Questioning and gay or bisexual men are bothered by the heteronormativity and lack of opportunity to explore their sexuality. So many of the men we work with very much want to practice active consent, have good boundaries and positive, fulfilling sex lives, but many feel that they don’t have good opportunities or role models for it, so they’re searching for the best way to do it. I think many are hopeless about the situation, many are resigned, but more and more are actively seeking and exploring, and really taking agency in creating healthier spaces on their campuses and in their communities.

What is the most surprising thing you hear when educating young men, or the thing that gives you most hope?

The answer to both is that most men aren’t happy with the way things are in terms of men’s relationships with women. Men want to have friendships with women, not just sex or relationships. They want to be able to have sex without feeling like alcohol is the necessary third ingredient. They want to have gender-equitable relationships and friendships and families, and they don’t want the women they care about to live in fear. The challenge for all men is that we’ve often been told that we shouldn’t care about these, or that it makes us less of a man to care about these things. More and more men are rejecting that, and realizing that the dominant stories of masculinity and manhood just plain don’t serve us, in fact more often than not they hurt us, and the people we care about. No one is benefiting, when you get right down to it.

Do you feel like sex-positivity is an important part of your work? Is it difficult to include considering the wide range of people and opinions you encounter?

Sex positivity is incredibly important. Sex is a natural and healthy part of life, and unhealthy attitudes toward it are part of the reason that so many men (and women) are unhappy with relationships. I want to support the men I work with in having whatever kind of sex they want with whomever they want—provided it’s consensual. For some people that means no sex, for others that means gay, lesbian, bi, hetero and more, all across the spectrum. So sex positivity looks different for different people, and we believe in supporting all of those options, again, provided it’s consensual. For me that’s the most important thing. But I believe having a positive attitude toward sex goes right along with actively practicing consent with your partners.

What frustrations have you encountered in your work? Or questions that you wish people would ask but don’t? Feel free to add anything else you’d like to say.

Honestly, there’s not much I find frustrating in what I do. I am incredibly lucky and privileged to spend pretty much every day working with amazing women and men who are doing so much to create a better, more gender-equitable world. When I get frustrated I just think about the great impact the college men I work with are having on their campuses, and are going to have as they go out into the world. I think there is currently a bit of a backlash against re-imagining masculinity and gender equity, but I don’t think it is sustainable. We know what the future looks like, and we’re not going back.

I’ll admit that I live in a bit of a feminist bubble. Many of my close friends are self-identified, active feminists; I kill an absurd amount of time reading feminist blogs; I’ve interned and volunteered for organizations focused on women’s issues. Although it is a bit of a myopic perspective, I’ve come to see most issues as feminist vs. virulent misogynists; Gloria Steinem cited at press conference in November 2009 that “more women self-identify as feminist than Republican,” but I’ve encountered a shocking number of sexist females in the past few months abroad.

The worst part about this particular brand of sexism is that it isn’t sexism in the strictest and most dangerous sense of the word, but more of a self-defeating attitude and acceptance of rigid gender roles. I’ve heard comments ranging from “The skiers were really good, even the women” to “He should get the last piece, he’s a boy.” The most common anti-female attitudes from females, however, are about acceptable careers for men and women. My Belgian friend told me over coffee and quiche one day (Sweden is delicious) that she felt torn between male and female aspirations. “How so?” She responded that she loved “women things,” like cooking, cleaning, decorating, and, one day, raising a family, but was “like a man” in that she went to business school, studied hard every day in the library, and aspired to be a bigwig at a financial corporation one day. Her ambition was commendable, but did it have to be framed as a “man thing?” Can’t it just be a thing?

Her thoughts, however, are more likely to reflect a reaction to stereotypes than sexism; a bit of the response could have been lost in translation as well. More antagonistic to the aims of feminism is the “one of the boys” mentality. Being told that you’re “like a guy” is often used as a compliment, one that many women strive to receive. If masculinity is praised, where does that leave femininity? An article on Jezebel, “Dudeliness is Next to Godliness,” put it perfectly:

The disturbing implication of considering logic, being fun, and having a sense of humor to be in the realm of dude-dom is that what’s left for ladies is the dreary opposite. If men are logical, then women must be illogical. If men are carefree and exciting, then women must be boring. If men are hilarious, then women must be perennial wet blankets who hate laughing and fun. If having masculine qualities is a positive, then is possessing feminine qualities a negative, and is anyone who is acting wack therefore performing ladyhood? To make matters worse, I know more than one woman who wears her “I’m not like those other girls; I’m just like one of the guys!” badge with pride, who agrees with the public consensus that girls are just terrible and they’re ideal. They’re special and superior, like a man. They use the “I’m a dude” excuse to exempt themselves from any number of standards to which women are subjected- they use their guy-ness to avoid being slut-shamed, to explain why they aren’t overdramatic or overemotional.

While saying that one is following a “male” career path did create a gender dichotomy, it did so without claiming that one aspect is “good” while the other is “bad.” The pedestal upon which male qualities are placed as girls declare proudly that they “hate girls” and can hang with the bros, places a normative quality to the issue. Besides, what does it mean to be “one of the guys?” As Morning Gloria states in her article, “There are subsets of every population that are insufferable. Women aren’t insufferable as a population and neither are men; people are across-the-board flawed and collectively a pain in the ass. Bitches aren’t crazy; human beings are crazy.”

This insidious, underlying yet ubiquitous female sexism raises several important obstacles in the struggle of shaking misogyny from society. First and foremost, there needs to be greater solidarity among women if we ever hope to make progress. If women themselves shirk away from feminism, vehemently declaring that they believe in equal rights, but that they aren’t- gasp!-feminists, how do we stand a chance in convincing more antagonistic groups that misogyny exists in today’s culture, and that it needs to be eradicated? As Tina Fey quips in Mean Girls, “You all have got to stop calling each other sluts and whores. It just makes it okay for guys to call you sluts and whores.” Claiming to “hate girls” and striving for masculinity only validates harmful attitudes towards women, particularly in the fight for issues of consent.

Secondly, this form of sexism creates a paradox in which women are held to certain gender roles- the aforementioned cooking, homemaking, etc.- while they are simultaneously expected to pursue a certain level of masculinity, to be “one of the guys.” Worst of all, this ideal is often perpetuated by women themselves. Invoking the genius of Tina Fey once again, the situation reminds of me the 30 Rock episode “Sandwich Day,” in which Liz Lemon, chasing her ex-boyfriend through an airport in hopes of emotional closure and perhaps romantic reconnection, is stopped at security, and can only pass if she throws away her sandwich, a sandwich she has been waiting all day, and year, to enjoy. She frantically shoves the sandwich into her mouth, explaining whilst maniacally chewing that, “I can do it! I can have it all!” When forced to choose between traditional feminine and masculine goals, the boyfriend and the sandwich, a symbol for her career and personal fulfillment, she opts for both. How many times have we found ourselves at this hypothetical airport? I know I have scarfed down the proverbial sandwich many times. But can we have it all? Can we follow dreams that have traditionally been reserved for men while retaining our femininity, whatever that means to us personally? Can we shatter the glass ceiling with a pair of stilettos? I think so. It will just take a bit of solidarity.

I’m from Tucson, Arizona.  This is not something I readily admit to people, especially those I meet for the first time here in Chicago.  This is mainly because I don’t want anyone to assume I’m a racist, homophobic, gun-toting, birther meth addict just because my state (like many others) is widely criticized for housing a fair number of ‘em.  In fact, by and large, Tucson is far more politically moderate than most of the rest of Arizona.  So when I sat down with a cup of tea to read the news on Saturday, my stomach hit the floor.

Twenty-two year old Jared Loughner opened fire at a community event in a grocery store parking lot not far from my neighborhood in Tucson on Saturday afternoon, killing six people and wounding 14 others.  Among those killed are Judge John Roll and a nine-year-old girl with the face of a little angel.  Democratic Rep. of Arizona, Gabrielle Giffords, was shot in the head and is alive and in critical condition, at the same hospital where my nephew was born.  She is the third woman in Arizona’s history to be elected to Congress.  Loughner was apprehended at the scene and was charged with attempted assassination in court on Monday.  Apparently, he went to Pima Community College (PCC), where my brother is earning his degree.  In September, Loughner was suspended for multiple disruptive incidents leading to campus police intervention.  At the time, PCC recommended that Loughner “obtain a mental health clearance indicating, in the opinion of a mental health professional, his presence at the College does not present a danger to himself or others.”  No word yet on how that panned out or why the recommendation didn’t come with a court order.

In the wake of violence, it’s natural and understandable for people to search for reasons why someone would do such a thing.  Following an inappropriate but understandably heated comment from Sheriff Clarence Dupnik, many writers and radio hosts are blaming “toxic” rhetoric from the political right.  In the New York Times, Paul Krugman wrote that the vitriolic language and escalating tension from the far right is at fault for inciting violence.

Last spring Politico.com reported on a surge in threats against members of Congress, which were already up by 300 percent. A number of the people making those threats had a history of mental illness — but something about the current state of America has been causing far more disturbed people than before to act out their illness by threatening, or actually engaging in, political violence.

Krugman names Glenn Beck and Bill O’Reilly as potential culprits.  Others have highlighted Sarah Palin’s use of that problematic target graphic.  In an article for The Guardian, Jessica Valenti points out that this persistent rhetoric of violence in politics is a cornerstone of our culture’s obsession with violent masculinity.  It’s clear that eliminationist rhetoric has skyrocketed in the U.S. since swaggery man’s man George W. Bush employed such charmingly medieval epithets as “evildoers” and “crusade” to justify war and, as Susan Faludi demonstrates, exploited our country’s Puritanical ideals about the gendered roles of protector and dependent to pursue it with such zeal.

But as long as we’re identifying potential causes of violence, I think we also need to take a closer look at the culpability of broader systems that continually fail to provide adequate and widely accessible mental health care to people in need.  Let’s talk about the estimated four million Americans who are believed to have severe psychiatric disorders.  Let’s talk about how few of them have emotional support from friends or family, and how when they turn to the state for help, they get stuck in a revolving door and usually come out empty-handed.  Let’s talk about the serious lack of federal funding for mental and behavioral health.  Or the fact that, even if you have insurance, odds are it won’t cover mental health.  Or, you know, we could talk about how the American Dream is sort of crumbling under the reality of our recession, and maybe the pressure is weighing on some people more heavily than others.  Let’s ask how many missed opportunities there were to keep Loughner from hurting these people.

It’s easy to blame sensationalists like Palin, Beck and O’Reilly for extreme behavior.  But obviously not everyone who listens to them will take a semi-automatic weapon on a murderous rampage.  It’s easy to label Loughner a “nutjob” and tuck him away under maximum security somewhere.  Then we can just forget about him since he’ll no longer be a threat to society — that’s what we do with criminals, “out of sight, out of mind,” right?  It’s a lot harder to assess the serious flaws in those institutions responsible for providing the kinds of social services that prevent violence from happening in the first place.  Doing so requires massive policy reform and fundamental soul-searching in the ways our country treats those afflicted with mental illness.

Krugman also writes,

The vast majority of those who listen to that toxic rhetoric stop short of actual violence, but some, inevitably, cross that line.

I have a serious problem with calling an incomprehensible tragedy like this “inevitable”, even if it’s to make a broader political point with which I might agree.  Sorry, no, this was not inevitable.  I will say it again and again and again: Violence is never inevitable.  Watch the news in the next couple of days: we will start hearing reports from friends and family lamenting early warning signs, maybe we’ll hear about the bureaucratic red tape Loughner may have faced if he did seek help.  I am personally very distraught about the shooting, as I’m sure are many of our readers.  But this violence was absolutely, 100 percent preventable.  As we learn more details about the circumstances surrounding that day, I encourage readers to think carefully and critically about the failed systems that allow Loughner and others to fall through the cracks.  As always, I encourage readers to challenge the ways in which our culture facilitates and contributes to acts of violence, and I encourage readers to promote positive social change.

Please send your thoughts and prayers to those whose lives have been impacted by this tragedy.  If you are inspired to make a positive gesture at this time, Rep. Giffords’ husband has suggested making a charitable donation to one of her favorite charities.  If you are thinking about hurting yourself or someone else, or if you’re in crisis and need help, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255).  If you’d like to share any thoughts or personal experiences with mental health services, please do so in the comments — this is a safe space, we value and welcome your input.

Photo by Charlotte at flickr.

As a feminist and an activist, I deal with a lot of ignorant and hateful people. When I tell people that I am a Women’s Studies major, I either get an eye roll or a lecture on how it is a useless area of academics. Recently, Miranda posted a great piece that touched a few buttons of men in the comment section. They don’t think men can stop rape. It was typical: nasty “you little ladies do not know what’s what and I (a self considered highly intelligent superior male) have to educate you in the error of your ways” thing, and it got me thinking about people who oppose actions taken in the movement against sexual assault/abuse/rape of women. Opponents of preventive education, anti-rape education, and ending violence against women and the social tendency to blame survivors often focus on three main myths:

1. That few women are victims of sexual assault/rape/abuse.
2. That people who are survivors of sexual violence are ever, in any way, at fault or instigators of the violence.
3. That rape cannot occur in a relationship or with someone with whom the victim has had sex with before.

If you have been reading this blog than you are well aware of this, hopefully. Getting this across to some people, however, proves problematic. It is quite disheartening at times. I do get frustrated- and at times think what is the point? Why bother when obviously some people will not change?

But some people do change. People learn and grow and get new perspectives every day. It has dawned on me that I am an activist because I believe that people can change. If I did not, there would be no reason to blog or organize or protest. And so I want to build on  a recent trend in our pieces here of leaving you with the impetus to do more, to bring about action. We will be highlighting more this September and from now on about local and national movements to end sexual violence, empower survivors, and share voices.

People change- and I believe that myths can be destroyed.

Photo via AMC TV.

Confession: I have hopped aboard the A-line skirt and Gimlet bandwagon and am completely addicted to Mad Men. More specifically, though, Christina Hendricks, who plays fiery secretary Joan Holloway, is a solid source of intrigue. The curves! The sass! I find the way that character carries herself and flaunts her confidence sexy and enviable, and Hendricks is also the focus of one of the most resonating and powerful scenes in the show: the episode where Joan is raped.

In this episode, Joan’s fiance drops by the office after hours to visit her. Upon his suggestion, she reluctantly takes him on a tour of her boss’s office, where he begins to kiss her. Joan hesitates, playfully pushing him away, telling him that she doesn’t want to have sex. His advances become stronger (as does her resistance)- until he finally pushes her on the ground, violently hikes up her skirt, and renders Joan’s attempts to stop him into resigned passivity. She lies on her back, emptily staring into the middle distance.

At first I was upset, shocked, and frustrated that the writers completely dropped the rape subplot. But Joan’s silence, and her unwillingness to fault her fiance for his actions (they eventually wed), reflect the stories of thousands of survivors and tell a larger story about women and sexuality.

Christina Hendricks, in an interview for British GQ, described her favorite scene from Mad Men. She mentioned the scene in which Joan, while conducting a focus group for lipsticks, uses a two-way mirror to reveal just as much of her body to the onlooking men on the other side as she chooses. “She’s controlling the women – she has more knowledge than them – and she’s also manipulating the men at the same time,” Hendricks said. While Joan is hardly a feminist, she has a deliberateness to her sexuality. Though she is working within the misogynistic confines of the office, she still finds a way to be treated with respect by the men inside of it, conveying an unstoppable strength as she struts from desk to desk. She is also a proudly sexual being, comfortable with her body and okay with having flings with coworkers because she wants to. But when she doesn’t want to, as we see in the scene with her fiance, that power that she holds becomes her downfall. The look in her eyes as she is pinned to the office floor perfectly conveys that sense of betrayal.

Women today are still in Joan’s office. We are often told that our worth stems only from our bodies, our beauty,  and our willingness to be sexual objects. We often try to reach, against our better judgement, the ideals of our society- and they are thrown back in our faces when we are raped or sexually assaulted. Our outfits, demeanor, and looks are often used to justify our worst experiences.

Joan’s rape, and the context surrounding it, is no different from what we experience, and must fight against, today.