REFLECTIONS OF THE WEEK
In search of the “bad” men?
Only a few weeks ago, the #MeToo campaign conquered social media. It took just a few hours to spread and become global with women around the world, including almost every woman I know, adding their names to the movement. It was easy to join in, add my status to it, but the emotions that came flooding afterwards stayed for days. Once the anger and the hurt brought up by the stories and the memories faded, a realisation seeped in.
My Facebook also had a lot of responses from men in the first few days—not necessarily about their #MeToo stories, but more about their reaction to seeing the vast outpour about experiences of abuse and harassment from the women around them. They spoke about taking a stance against this. So, I was enthusiastic, if not excited when I saw the #HowICanChange campaign come about. You probably never even heard of it, because it barely made a chink in the armour.
I did however share my #HowICanChange status: what my role can be to become a less abusive person. I believe that all human beings are capable of abusing their power—men, women, and children alike, because everyone has some power. And if we are not aware of the power and privilege we hold over others, we will surely misuse them, intentionally or not. I thought this was what all these men on my friend list were waiting for—a chance to think about what they can do and be. To say the least, it has been a disappointing week.
Let me explain here, that I mention the hashtag campaigns to showcase how differently I saw people, largely the male population, react to issues around sexual harassment and abuse. Somehow it is easier to show support and sympathy, to give kudos to us "strong, powerful women" who have "been through so much" and still thrived. But, there is very little, if any response when they are asked to think about their own role in this scenario. Most will outright deny ever having benefitted or misused their privilege; many will even say that they don't know anyone who treats any woman like that.
So, they come and ask us where these men who abuse women are. They write about how this is not a women's issue, but an issue men need to deal with; about how lucky they themselves have been to be raised by strong women, so they have always respected women. But, what they don't do is to pause and let these stories affect them, to enter them. What they don't do is to listen, and think about what this means. The stories are not just about being held down and raped, or being punched in the face, or being followed from the bus stand.
These stories are also about a time, when he was a teenager, sitting with his buddies in class and rating the girls based on their looks; and if the girls happened to hear about it they would definitely take it as compliment, right? The stories are also about that time, when he laughingly said to his girlfriend that, "if I want something, I make sure to get it". It wasn't a threat of course; it was about their love story. But he didn't notice that her smile disappeared from her eyes and remained strained on her lips, while her mind raced trying to figure out if this was a sign of trouble. The stories are about the time when he argued with his wife and wanted to make it up to her that night, but he didn't notice the tear at the corner of her eye when he turned around and went to sleep.
These stories are not only about the ones that make newspaper headlines, they are also about the everyday lives of women—the strong ones, the loud ones, the soft ones, the silent ones. These men are not walking around masking their "evil faces"; they are probably just like you and me, who many times never even realised how they affected others in this manner. Especially when many of these issues were not talked about, were not taught. But with time, they have grown up and become a better man, a good husband, a wonderful father—just like you.
You—my open-minded, feminist allied male friend—you ask me, where these "bad" men are? Because you want to help me fight them? But I remain quiet, because if I was being honest, I would say: my worry is not the bad men "out there"; I don't deal with them every day. I worry about all the other men—the men who are in my life; mainly because I love them, I care for them. The men in my family, the ones I am friends with and work with, the ones married to my sisters and friends, the ones raising the little girls and boys I love, and hope for them to see a better world. These are the men that disappoint me, that causes me pain, because they are all good men, and they want to be part of the better world we are all talking about.
But they will not pause, they will not reflect and ask themselves the tough questions. They will not realise that the most important stance they can take is the one of recognising their own privilege and the ability to abuse it. Maybe they think they will be lesser beings if they admitted to this, that maybe we will judge them and hate them. Little do they know how strong we are and how we can only get better together when we create space for each other. Little do they know how strong they can be once they have shed the insecure cloaks they hide under. These are the men who make me cry. Because, they will not look in the mirror and ask: can you think about a time when you were THAT man?
Tasaffy Hossain is Founder, Bonhishika-unlearn gender.