My 13-year-old daughter and I went to see Jane Eyre at the National Theatreon the South Bank, a few weeks ago. It was a clear night and we walked across the bridge to catch the tube, talking about the play as we went. Jane Eyre’s strong sense of justice comes across early in this exciting production, along with her independent will and ability to make clear choices in a world where women were expected to behave in particular, passive, conformist ways.
It was pretty late when we boarded the train, and the carriage was almost full of other theatregoers on their way home. My daughter was sitting on my right and the only free seat was on my left. After a couple of stops, a man got on. It was hard to tell, but he was probably in his 30s. He cast his eyes around the carriage before declaring, quite loudly, that someone would have to move. “I want to sit opposite her,” he said, staring at my daughter.
I could feel her physically recoil beside me, hardly able to believe that he was talking about her. She looked at me wide-eyed and didn’t speak, but grabbed my hand with her smaller sweaty one. I reassured her that it was OK. “There’s a seat next to me,” I told him.
No one else in the carriage spoke or even looked at us. He sat down very close next to me and proceeded to stare across at my daughter, craning to see round me. “What’s your name?” he asked. She didn’t reply.
“Pretty, pretty, pretty,” he said.
I told him quite clearly that she did not wish to speak to him and that I would like him to stop. Again, no one else said or did anything to help or support us.
For me, this was a first. The first time I had been out with my newly teenage daughter when she was sexually harassed. I felt ashamed about not knowing whether she had already been subjected to something like this before, when I was not with her, and I felt nervous to ask – she looked so fearful.
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I also felt a sense of responsibility or fault. She had been late home from school, rushing to get changed and, as we left the house, I had grabbed a tailored jacket for her. It belonged to me and she wore it over a short, navy H&M dress, with socks and Doc Marten shoes. Her legs were bare. Maybe I should have taken a moment and insisted she wore tights? Or a longer skirt? Or trousers? So, already I was experiencing feelings of guilt and shame, and the harassment was not even aimed at me.
The incident also felt threatening and isolating. By now, we were four or five stops from our destination and my daughter had hold of my hand very tightly. I told the man we were going to move, but he got up himself and moved further down the carriage as a couple of seats had become vacant.
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Now other passengers started to look up at us, one offering a tiny smile. Although the man had moved away, my daughter seemed to feel no safer and asked if we could leave the train before our stop and walk the rest of the way home, but we didn’t.
So we were both, in our own ways, caught in a position of feeling the need to alter our behaviour, either in practical ways, or through the internal dialogue with which we are saddled every day. Girls should dress differently. Or put up with the inconvenience of changing their travel plans. All in order to suit a culture that makes women feel bad about their own choices.
I don’t experience much sexual harassment these days. I think I have reached the life phase of those invisible middle-aged, slightly greying women, who secretly, shamefully, wish for just one more cat-call to make them feel they are still desirable. At the same time, my irregular and unpredictable menstrual cycle (I’m not even sure you can call it a cycle any more) reminds me irritatingly that I am losing any utilitarian function, all while I am telling myself – indeed shouting at myself – that I am much more than a receptacle for generating life. It is a contradictory, sometimes lonely, place to be.
My child, however, is just entering this life phase. I wonder how I can help her to navigate a world in which she may feel threatened by some men. It is a difficult conversation to have and I am not even sure that my help is of any use.
I want to tell my daughter that men are wonderful, supportive, as full of complexities and joy and love as women are. I am sure she knows this anyway. But I also see that she is beginning to experience alternative ways of imagining men – menacing ways.
On the short walk back to our house, she asked what I thought she should have done if I had not been there. Go and ask another adult for help, came my stock response. “But what if I had been older?” she asked, “Like a grown up.”
I said that I thought she should not feel intimidated by that kind of behaviour and that she could politely ask him to stop, or move away herself, to sit near someone with whom she might feel safer. But in the end, you do what you do. I don’t know how she will feel or react when faced with a similar situation if I am not there. I am not even sure how I would react if it were to happen again when we are together. I already regretted suggesting he sit next to me and even now retell myself the story with a different response. There is only so much preparation you can imagine or envisage before it is there, in your face, threatening your very self. Politely asking someone to stop behaving in a threatening way may be a placatory act just as much as it may be an incendiary one.
When I told a male acquaintance about what had happened, he asked if I had told the man that my daughter was 13. I had not and began to wonder why. I think, on reflection, it is partly because that is personal information and I wanted him to know as little about her as possible.
But also partly because, whether you are 13, 18 or 47, sexual harassment is never OK. Somehow, if I had declared her age, it would almost have been saying that it would have been more acceptable in five years’ time. And it would not have been. I don’t have any clear or easy answers to these sorts of questions, other than to reinforce the point that neither my daughter, nor anyone else’s daughters, should have to feel fearful or ashamed of their bodies, and neither should they have to change their behaviour to avoid these feelings of shame.
In the end, then, I look to one of my own heroines, Jane Eyre, who probably had it about right in her response to Mr Rochester when he tries to tame and control her, and mould her into what he thinks he wants her to be.
“I am no bird and no net ensnares me,” she says. “I am a free human being with an independent will.”
Yeah, that would be awful. I hope like hell I can raise girls who will tell an asshole like that, in a loud and clear voice, "Stop bothering me". I feel awful for that kid and that mom. I'm not ready for that lesson yet
"Hello babies. Welcome to Earth. It's hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It's round and wet and crowded. On the outside, babies, you've got a hundred years here. There's only one rule that I know of, babies-"God damn it, you've got to be kind.”
Post by 2curlydogs on Nov 24, 2015 14:58:32 GMT -5
There would have been other words than "“There’s a seat next to me,” coming out of my mouth from the get go. High on the list would have been "Go fuck yourself, you pervert."
Post by mrsukyankee on Nov 24, 2015 15:19:09 GMT -5
It was such a British response, unfortunately. And on the underground, late at night, it can be very intimidating as you are completely shut in with these assholes. People rarely help in these situations as they are hoping not to get involved or beat up. I personally have no problem saying something most of the time but it still scares me a lot.
Post by omgzombies on Nov 24, 2015 15:22:11 GMT -5
It's easy to say you wouldn't put up with it. But I know I've put up with it. Made myself smaller because I wasn't sure how much danger I was in. Smiled politely and looked for a quick and quiet exit strategy. I hope age and maturity have given me more strength and a louder voice. But until you're there, and in the thick of it, wondering if anyone would actually help if it escalated? I'm lucky that I haven't had to deal with that sort of behavior in a while.
It's easy to say you wouldn't put up with it. But I know I've put up with it. Made myself smaller because I wasn't sure how much danger I was in. Smiled politely and looked for a quick and quiet exit strategy. I hope age and maturity have given me more strength and a louder voice. But until you're there, and in the thick of it, wondering if anyone would actually help if it escalated? I'm lucky that I haven't had to deal with that sort of behavior in a while.
It was such a British response, unfortunately. And on the underground, late at night, it can be very intimidating as you are completely shut in with these assholes. People rarely help in these situations as they are hoping not to get involved or beat up. I personally have no problem saying something most of the time but it still scares me a lot.
Yes, it's so hard. One morning DH was riding the tube and a man started masturbating and was trying to head toward some women in the carriage. He and some other people blocked the man's path, but he tells me he was absolutely afraid of what might happen to him. Did the man have a knife, for example.
The authorities were aware of the incident and perversely, DH's train was stuck behind other trains that were being stopped and searched. The man was apprehended 2 stops after DH boarded.
Post by DesertMoon on Nov 24, 2015 17:04:46 GMT -5
My husband works for the TTC toronto transit and he said when women are being harassed he will shout on the com that he needs to stop harassing his passengers, if he persists, he kicks the man off. He's does this atleast twice a week. Which is IMO a lot.
My husband works for the TTC toronto transit and he said when women are being harassed he will shout on the com that he needs to stop harassing his passengers, if he persists, he kicks the man off. He's does this atleast twice a week. Which is IMO a lot.
That reminds me of this social experiment Inside Edition posted last month. A woman pretended to be drunk during the day. She walked around asking for help, saying she was trying to find her friends and he phone was dead. They wanted to see what men would do, and unfortunately, not a single man offered to help. What they did do is pretty appalling. www.insideedition.com/headlines/12645-woman-pretends-to-be-drunk-what-happens-to-her-is-shocking
That reminds me of this social experiment Inside Edition posted last month. A woman pretended to be drunk during the day. She walked around asking for help, saying she was trying to find her friends and he phone was dead. They wanted to see what men would do, and unfortunately, not a single man offered to help. What they did do is pretty appalling. www.insideedition.com/headlines/12645-woman-pretends-to-be-drunk-what-happens-to-her-is-shocking
Post by iammalcolmx on Nov 25, 2015 9:52:46 GMT -5
When I was 16 I was helping my Momma at the Picnic the City would have honoring employees. One of the Police officers started hitting on me. My Mommas co-workers said " E, you see this grown man hitting on your baby?", my Momma said to him " Uhhhhhhh I work in HR, YOU WILL NOT GET PAID!" I felt disgusting/embarrassed when grown men would hit on me, when I was a child.
When I was 16 I was helping my Momma at the Picnic the City would have honoring employees. One of the Police officers started hitting on me. My Mommas co-workers said " E, you see this grown man hitting on your baby?", my Momma said to him " Uhhhhhhh I work in HR, YOU WILL NOT GET PAID!" I felt disgusting/embarrassed when grown men would hit on me, when I was a child.
I distinctly remember the first time a grown ass man checked me out - I was out to dinner at a crab shack on vacation with my mama and some of her friends, and there was a table full of college age guys who kept eyeballing me to the point where I felt kinda uncomfortable. When my mama noticed she just yelled "KEEP YOUR EYES OFF OF MY BABY" across the place. I luv her.
It's easy to say you wouldn't put up with it. But I know I've put up with it. Made myself smaller because I wasn't sure how much danger I was in. Smiled politely and looked for a quick and quiet exit strategy. I hope age and maturity have given me more strength and a louder voice. But until you're there, and in the thick of it, wondering if anyone would actually help if it escalated? I'm lucky that I haven't had to deal with that sort of behavior in a while.
Yes, this. I've dealt with perverts on transit before and it can be so terrifying because there are times where you have no where to go. Some asshole cornered me on a Metra train when I was with my nine month old baby alone. He kept trying to touch her, he was making weird comments, he placed his huge bag in front of me so I couldn't move, and he didn't leave until the conductor came by and I asked for help. No one would look at me when it was happening, no one said anything to him, and people ignored me when I asked for help with getting out of the seat because he was blocking me in. It was very scary. You also never know if people will have a weapon, which makes it even worse. When it's happening, you are sitting there terrified with your heart beating out of your chest.
Post by DesertMoon on Nov 25, 2015 10:30:01 GMT -5
My husband says if anyone has any problem of any bus or transportation to let the bus driver know, it's part of their job and they can handle it if you want. There are also cameras and things if you need the footage for any reason.
It's easy to say you wouldn't put up with it. But I know I've put up with it. Made myself smaller because I wasn't sure how much danger I was in. Smiled politely and looked for a quick and quiet exit strategy. I hope age and maturity have given me more strength and a louder voice. But until you're there, and in the thick of it, wondering if anyone would actually help if it escalated? I'm lucky that I haven't had to deal with that sort of behavior in a while.
Yes, this. I've dealt with perverts on transit before and it can be so terrifying because there are times where you have no where to go. Some asshole cornered me on a Metra train when I was with my nine month old baby alone. He kept trying to touch her, he was making weird comments, he placed his huge bag in front of me so I couldn't move, and he didn't leave until the conductor came by and I asked for help. No one would look at me when it was happening, no one said anything to him, and people ignored me when I asked for help with getting out of the seat because he was blocking me in. It was very scary. You also never know if people will have a weapon, which makes it even worse. When it's happening, you are sitting there terrified with your heart beating out of your chest.
That sounds so scary! I would have just started screaming until someone looked at me.
What really pisses me off is my husband says BFing women get harassed sometimes ironically mostly by old ladies. He suggests the sit priority seating so they don't get stuck in the back.
Yes, this. I've dealt with perverts on transit before and it can be so terrifying because there are times where you have no where to go. Some asshole cornered me on a Metra train when I was with my nine month old baby alone. He kept trying to touch her, he was making weird comments, he placed his huge bag in front of me so I couldn't move, and he didn't leave until the conductor came by and I asked for help. No one would look at me when it was happening, no one said anything to him, and people ignored me when I asked for help with getting out of the seat because he was blocking me in. It was very scary. You also never know if people will have a weapon, which makes it even worse. When it's happening, you are sitting there terrified with your heart beating out of your chest.
That sounds so scary! I would have just started screaming until someone looked at me.
What really pisses me off is my husband says BFing women get harassed sometimes ironically mostly by old ladies. He suggests the sit priority seating so they don't get stuck in the back.
I probably would have if the conductor hadn't come by at that point. I get really stressed out in situations like that and often shut down, which is really terrible in and of itself but is even worse when your kids are with you. It's something I've been working on a lot since then.
I really hate old ladies sometimes. I don't remember ever receiving a rude comment about BFing from an old lady, but I've gotten plenty of other comments. They can be obnoxious.
That reminds me of this social experiment Inside Edition posted last month. A woman pretended to be drunk during the day. She walked around asking for help, saying she was trying to find her friends and he phone was dead. They wanted to see what men would do, and unfortunately, not a single man offered to help. What they did do is pretty appalling. www.insideedition.com/headlines/12645-woman-pretends-to-be-drunk-what-happens-to-her-is-shocking
You know, I am not saying people shouldn't help other people, but i really hate the "what would you do" type shows that try to have gotcha moments with people in various situations. There are a million reasons why people may or may not help someone in these situations. Some are shitty reasons and some may be valid.
My husband says if anyone has any problem of any bus or transportation to let the bus driver know, it's part of their job and they can handle it if you want. There are also cameras and things if you need the footage for any reason.
This isn't true on the DC Metro. Because the dude driving the train was of no help when I had a confrontation with a man who decided to ask me " Why do you talk so white?". Thank god for the Postal Worker who pulled out her knife.
That reminds me of this social experiment Inside Edition posted last month. A woman pretended to be drunk during the day. She walked around asking for help, saying she was trying to find her friends and he phone was dead. They wanted to see what men would do, and unfortunately, not a single man offered to help. What they did do is pretty appalling. www.insideedition.com/headlines/12645-woman-pretends-to-be-drunk-what-happens-to-her-is-shocking
You know, I am not saying people shouldn't help other people, but i really hate the "what would you do" type shows that try to have gotcha moments with people in various situations. There are a million reasons why people may or may not help someone in these situations. Some are shitty reasons and some may be valid.
I mean that's true, BUT, there's no excuse for men trying to make out with a drunk woman, or get her to go back to their hotel room.
That reminds me of this social experiment Inside Edition posted last month. A woman pretended to be drunk during the day. She walked around asking for help, saying she was trying to find her friends and he phone was dead. They wanted to see what men would do, and unfortunately, not a single man offered to help. What they did do is pretty appalling. www.insideedition.com/headlines/12645-woman-pretends-to-be-drunk-what-happens-to-her-is-shocking
You know, I am not saying people shouldn't help other people, but i really hate the "what would you do" type shows that try to have gotcha moments with people in various situations. There are a million reasons why people may or may not help someone in these situations. Some are shitty reasons and some may be valid.
On an individual basis, absolutely, but I think they tend to show a trend. It's like a case study in qualitative research. One event? Okay, that's an anomaly. But multiple events? That's a pattern. So the video doesn't say, "Every man out there is more likely to take advantage than help," but it does demonstrate that women repeatedly are in vulnerable positions.
'Smile!' How a villain's phrase in 'Jessica Jones' exposes modern-day sexism
Just 30 minutes into the series premiere of "Jessica Jones," the title character, in flashback, is shown at a table in a high-end restaurant. It’s a version of Jones we’ve never seen before, polished and pristine, an evening gown replacing her traditional jeans. But the most significant change in our heroine’s appearance is the complete lack of fire in her eyes.
“To our anniversary,” Jones’ companion utters as their food arrives, “You’ll love it.”
“I will love it,” she parrots.
“Then smile.”
To our horror, Jones obliges, cracking what may be her first smile of the series, a toothy, empty grin that reminds audiences how narrow the distance is between a smile and a grimace and introduces us instantly to the most innocuous and incisive cultural critique that Marvel television has launched to date.
The instruction itself, as delivered to Jones, is sinister, not merely because of the overtones of abuse and manipulation, but because similar well-meaning scenarios play out in the real world time and again each day. What makes this situation special, however, is how it's treated within the narrative of its source material.
The Netflix series follows failed superhero Jessica Jones, played by a steely Krysten Ritter, by now employed as a full-time private investigator, part-time alcoholic, and serves as a haunting flashback to a memory (and a man) Jones can’t seem to wrench herself free from.
The man in question is Kilgrave, shrewdly portrayed by David Tennant, whose powers of mind control are often used to nefarious ends. Kilgrave's single-minded obsession with Jessica begins years before and only intensifies once she manages to break free from his grasp.
If the "Jessica Jones" series was the type of show to have a catchphrase line for each character, "Smile," would be Kilgrave's. The instructions to "smile" appear in both the “Alias” graphic novels, written by Brian Michael Bendis, as well as in the series that adapts them, but outside of that mainstay, the series often opts for a much lighter hand as far as the depiction of manipulation goes.
While Bendis’ version of the villain orders Jessica to strip (or dress in a schoolgirl ensemble while naked women writhe in the background), the TV version instructs her to smile. The seemingly less invasive direction is transformed into a nuanced example of everyday sexism, grounding the comic book fantasy into modern-day reality.
By insisting that Jessica smile, Kilgrave is aping an action so culturally prevalent that it’s spawned a campaign to end gendered street harassment called “Stop Telling Women to Smile,” as well as spurring dozens of Internet think pieces.
The message is coming through loud and clear to “Jessica Jones” audiences as well.
Telling a woman, particularly a stranger, to smile presumes unearned familiarity. Worse, it implies a right to dictate behavior. Perhaps, however, the most unnerving aspect is how frequently the endeavor is entered into with the best of intentions.
When asked specifically how much of the framing of “smile” is inspired by modern misogyny, show runner Melissa Rosenberg laughs before responding, “Let’s see. 100%” Rosenberg continues, “This is a character who is not defined by her gender. But those of us of the female persuasion, our lives are certainly informed by our gender and the misogyny around us.”
Moreover, Kilgrave’s powers bring matters of consent to the forefront, not merely by showing him taking over the minds of both men and women, young and old, but by digging into his confusion about his own abilities.
“I never know if someone is doing what they want or what I tell them to do,” Kilgrave cries to Jones, when confronted over the repeated incidents of rape and abuse. In attempting to justify his powers of persuasion, Kilgrave serves as an exaggerated representation of perceived consent.
The cluelessness that often underscores unintentional harassment does not seem to be lost on Rosenberg, as later episodes in the season will attest to. In the midst of a heated argument, Kilgrave attempts to explain away his treacherous actions. He even goes so far as to apologize for his sins, even as he doesn’t believe he’s truly guilty of them, saying, “Whatever you think I did to hurt you, I’m sorry.”
It’s telling that with all of the issues that “Jessica Jones” tackles, including PTSD, rape and abuse, it has chosen to make its arch villain something of a throwback to an antiquated misogyny in which he is pathologically unable to take responsibility for his actions.
When Kilgrave tells Jessica to smile, it’s disturbing not because he controls her every thought and action, but because it’s a situation that resonates with many women, sans superpowers.
“Jessica Jones” is revolutionary because in acknowledging casual misogyny and exaggerating its most destructive tendencies, it exposes the pervasive toxicity therein. It does all of this without making a show of its politics, instead resting easy on the knowledge that all too many women will relate to the subtleties of its premise.
I remember getting cat-called and whistled at down in Cabo San Lucas when I was 15 and walking with my family. It started in the airport by the waiting cab drivers and went all week long. It was so embarrassing, especially with my family standing right there as we walked through town. I don't get what men see out of doing that to anyone. Are they really under the impression that women will stop what they are doing and walk up and ask them for a date?