All Men
The news about the abhorrent behavior of Cesar Chavez has stirred the collective fury of women not felt since the Me Too movement exposed the extent of abuse. Women who have been touched. Women who have been groped. Women who have been raped. Unwanted sexual battery and attention which often starts before a child can even conceive of what is happening to them permeates the lives of most women. It is like a wound that never quite heals over and a constant reminder of our worth in the eyes of many: a target for the male gaze, a tool for sexual gratification and an opportunity for power exertion.
Choruses of “not all men” arise whenever our shared ire is roused. Sometimes it feels like “all men” when this rampant abuse is constantly being revealed, even in spaces where it is least expected. Why are we surprised anymore? Priests, teachers, scout leaders, intellectuals, directors, actors, politicians, doctors, coaches, fathers, uncles, grandfathers, brothers. It’s almost like nowhere is safe. Because nowhere is.
Clearly it isn’t all men who rape women. But it is all men who could stop this rape culture. But they don’t. Instead, they ask us why we don’t smile at them when we walk by them on the street. They wonder why we don’t accept their compliments on our physical appearance and how it pleases them (or the insult when it doesn’t). Why can’t we “take a joke.” As women age and become invisible to the male gaze, we begin to see with clarity that the currency of beauty and attractiveness is not only fleeting, but also corrupt, because the only thing it buys is either attention or assault. We may temporarily buy access to power with this currency, but its value may be revoked by the dispenser at any time.
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Delores Huerta lived in the shadows of the work and achievements of Cesar Chavez. In typical patriarchal fashion her achievements were largely erased while Chavez’ was exalted and celebrated. She understood the critical work of raising the working standards for laborers was contingent on her quiet support of Chavez and the suppression of her repulsion at the repeated violation of her body (and soul). For 75 years she held this violence in her body in service to a movement she believed larger than her.
So many women are holding violence in their body in service to something (or someone) else. Their church, their family, their workplace…something else. And even if they don’t feel the need to protect some entity, there are reminders everywhere the cost of ending this service. Doubt. Ostracization. Marginalization. Violence. Concurrent to the reminders of the cost of revealing abuse of our bodies and the minimizing of our truths is the plethora and bombardment of evidence of how widespread this abuse is. Every day it seems another scandal is revealed and there is a collective and public outcry at its disclosure. Meanwhile, the continuum of violence and assault against female bodies rages on in the quotidian of everyday life. From a “harmless” comment to a leering look, the collective male gaze amongst the guys who know their shared ogling at attractiveness is something they may openly engage with little concern of retribution. Look no further than the ascension of an admitted and convicted sex offender to the highest office in the world to illustrate how this corrupt power structure permeates our society.
And the truly diabolical part of this is we groom females to comply by teaching them at a young age that the most important traits of femaleness is compliance and beauty and the ability to draw that very gaze. We are surrounded by imagery of the ideal woman, and she is beautiful, thin and always smiling. Often, her body resembles that of a child. The glorification of pre-pubescent bodies is rampant and supported by the media, Hollywood and child beauty pageants. The child body represents innocence and compliance: the currency of weak men.
It is the power structure of society that creates this mess and it is the power structure that must dismantle it. However, as Audre Lorde so eloquently noted: The master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house. But I implore the decent men of good will: use your tools to end this malpractice of humanity.
While it may not be “all men” who rape, it is all men who hold up this structure, along with the women who benefit from proximity to this power. I could write another essay on the fallacy of this position some women cling to, but that is for another day. Suffice it to say, in the long run, few women thrive under the myth that they are protected by their relative positionality to power. However, there is a societal machine grinding to keep women believing in the possibility of its promise. By the time they realize that they are subject to the whims of those in power, it is often too late. And they have sacrificed their sisters and daughters in pursuit of an apparition.
More women are stepping out of the shadows and sharing their truth. They are extraordinarily brave and it is more than we should ask of them considering the historical record of victim-blaming and the consequences they bear by coming forth. But it’s going to take more. Women’s marches and Me Too testimony have barely moved the mark. It’s going to take those “not all men” men to step the fuck up and actively fight a culture that objectifies and diminishes women. Don’t look the other way at your leering friends. Stop laughing at their demeaning jokes. Stop conforming to a power structure that demands women’s worth be measured by beauty and compliance. If you are not actively fighting this scourge, then yes, it is time to recognize: it is all men.
