The #metoo movement has finally taken of in India. For now it is restricted to a certain class of women..the educated, working women with a support system, even if the support system only includes 'some' friends, family, few colleagues and fewer women. The backlash has been quite strong with vitriol and shame thrown at them from different quarters. The naming and shaming has become breaking news everyday. So is the news of the 'victims' filing criminal defamation cases. Knowing the country as I do...many women who want to speak up will never say a word because of the lengthy court processes and the continued 'shaming' and 'whispers'. The whispers are deadly.
We've been conditioned to always question the woman. We wonder what it was about her that was inviting to the man. And if the man in question is a friend or a relative, we try to find a thousand reasons the woman could be wrong or worse lying. More damaging is when we forgive these men...let's not make a noise and destroy his career, his life....but let's live with the disgust. Somehow if the effect isn't physical and we show no signs of trauma...it doesn't matter. It can be swept under the rug.
I've experienced my own share of lechers/ harassers. Men who think it's okay to harass you because you are alone, who think they can get away with it. There was this professor who set up a 'meeting' in his house to discuss the final year project and who thought it was okay to greet me shirtless dressed in just a lungi/sarong. It was also 'okay' to meet me alone (having sent his wife and daughters away). Even at that young age, it was clear to me as I entered his house that the meeting wasn't going to be about my thesis. I stood in the living room, told him that I was 'okay' without his help and walked out. Stood near the door, refused to sit and walked out. I knew I would be failed or that I'd get a bad grade. I did. That was my only C. I choose not to talk about it as I reasoned with myself that nothing happened and that talking about it would only make my parents more protective about me. I also know that if I had complained to the university, the first question would've been ..what happened?
Nothing happened, but what if?
Nothing happened and yet over a decade later I think about it and the disgust is as vivid as it was then.
I was also blessed to be in a position where my parents would've believed me, made sure the professor got taught his lesson and never sight his sights on me again. I had a choice and the space to be okay with a bad grade.
Not everyone has this choice. Not everyone can be okay with a bad grade or a repeat semester. Not everyone can afford to lose a job or the hard fought for freedom to work, to go out, to travel alone. So we keep quiet. And they get bolder, on the lookout for someone weaker to prey on.
There was this other time when a stranger thought it was 'okay' to run his hands down my back to 'protect' me from falling off a median. I thought it was okay that I throw a stone at him when he denied having touched me inappropriately. I was happy I hurt him physically . That if I ever thought about that incident again, it won't be with shame but with a gladness that I stood up and got my revenge. That maybe the next time he tried it with someone he might also remember that stone that landed on his back.
However, there was this other thing though that irritated me more. More than the guy. While the guys around me chased him to rough him up without asking any questions, this woman took it upon herself to comment on my clothes. She said that maybe if my top had sleeves the guy wouldn't have been tempted. I wanted another stone, I wanted her to walk away from me so I could throw that stone at her. I walked away instead. Too angry to do anything about her. It's women like her who make things worse. Victim shaming and blaming. And we have a million of them now, questioning the women who have spoken up. Wondering if they did something to invite, to provoke. The whispers have begun too, the " I've heard stories about her" , the " I know how she got the job", the "she is making noise because of a personal vendetta". The whispers never cease. In a society that looks askance at women speaking up or standing up for themselves, and be okay with men who lech, rape and harm women, we need to stand together. We need to name and shame. We need to fight. We must learn not to forgive, for forgiveness only gives them the space and courage to continue. We need to tell our ' protectors' to teach the men in their lives that it is not okay to harass a woman because you felt like it or because you thought she was easy or deserved it.
I wish that when there comes a time when I have to stand up for the victim and go against a close friend or relative , I would do so.
It is difficult to get past the ingrained feeling of shame. Difficult to call out loved ones. But we must. To protect ourselves and the others.
We've been conditioned to always question the woman. We wonder what it was about her that was inviting to the man. And if the man in question is a friend or a relative, we try to find a thousand reasons the woman could be wrong or worse lying. More damaging is when we forgive these men...let's not make a noise and destroy his career, his life....but let's live with the disgust. Somehow if the effect isn't physical and we show no signs of trauma...it doesn't matter. It can be swept under the rug.
I've experienced my own share of lechers/ harassers. Men who think it's okay to harass you because you are alone, who think they can get away with it. There was this professor who set up a 'meeting' in his house to discuss the final year project and who thought it was okay to greet me shirtless dressed in just a lungi/sarong. It was also 'okay' to meet me alone (having sent his wife and daughters away). Even at that young age, it was clear to me as I entered his house that the meeting wasn't going to be about my thesis. I stood in the living room, told him that I was 'okay' without his help and walked out. Stood near the door, refused to sit and walked out. I knew I would be failed or that I'd get a bad grade. I did. That was my only C. I choose not to talk about it as I reasoned with myself that nothing happened and that talking about it would only make my parents more protective about me. I also know that if I had complained to the university, the first question would've been ..what happened?
Nothing happened, but what if?
Nothing happened and yet over a decade later I think about it and the disgust is as vivid as it was then.
I was also blessed to be in a position where my parents would've believed me, made sure the professor got taught his lesson and never sight his sights on me again. I had a choice and the space to be okay with a bad grade.
Not everyone has this choice. Not everyone can be okay with a bad grade or a repeat semester. Not everyone can afford to lose a job or the hard fought for freedom to work, to go out, to travel alone. So we keep quiet. And they get bolder, on the lookout for someone weaker to prey on.
There was this other time when a stranger thought it was 'okay' to run his hands down my back to 'protect' me from falling off a median. I thought it was okay that I throw a stone at him when he denied having touched me inappropriately. I was happy I hurt him physically . That if I ever thought about that incident again, it won't be with shame but with a gladness that I stood up and got my revenge. That maybe the next time he tried it with someone he might also remember that stone that landed on his back.
However, there was this other thing though that irritated me more. More than the guy. While the guys around me chased him to rough him up without asking any questions, this woman took it upon herself to comment on my clothes. She said that maybe if my top had sleeves the guy wouldn't have been tempted. I wanted another stone, I wanted her to walk away from me so I could throw that stone at her. I walked away instead. Too angry to do anything about her. It's women like her who make things worse. Victim shaming and blaming. And we have a million of them now, questioning the women who have spoken up. Wondering if they did something to invite, to provoke. The whispers have begun too, the " I've heard stories about her" , the " I know how she got the job", the "she is making noise because of a personal vendetta". The whispers never cease. In a society that looks askance at women speaking up or standing up for themselves, and be okay with men who lech, rape and harm women, we need to stand together. We need to name and shame. We need to fight. We must learn not to forgive, for forgiveness only gives them the space and courage to continue. We need to tell our ' protectors' to teach the men in their lives that it is not okay to harass a woman because you felt like it or because you thought she was easy or deserved it.
I wish that when there comes a time when I have to stand up for the victim and go against a close friend or relative , I would do so.
It is difficult to get past the ingrained feeling of shame. Difficult to call out loved ones. But we must. To protect ourselves and the others.
No comments:
Post a Comment