Sexual entitlement, supreme gentlemen, and "You"

As many likely know, “You” is a 2018 TV series which has recently risen to popularity on Netflix. It follows the story of a bookstore manager, Joe, as he obsessively pursues his love interest, Beck (often without her knowledge). While it is primarily a psychological thriller, the series exposes the dark side of the “nice guy” trope, specifically illuminating how it is rooted in sexual entitlement.

Joe has the classic “nice guy” image. He is bookish, modestly dressed, witty and respectful (as far as Beck knows). Throughout the course of the series we are lulled by his calm, rational narration as he justifies each of his increasingly malevolent acts by his love for Beck.

The “nice guy” is a popular trope, reinforced by many storylines in the media. Joe seems to realize this too. For example, he narrates as he hides in Beck’s apartment that he isn’t worried about being caught because he has “seen enough romantic comedies to know that guys like [him] are always getting in jams like this.”

This indeed echoes a scene from a popular romantic comedy, “10 Things I Hate About You.” There, a male character sneaks into a girl’s bedroom searching for personal information about her to relay to his friend. Removed from the comforting backdrop of a lighthearted comedy, we see the truly sinister quality of this behavior.

Joe’s foil is Beck’s initial romantic interest, Benji: a wealthy, arrogant, heroin-addicted former frat boy. He cheats on Beck, ignores her calls, and shows up on her doorstep late at night expecting sex. After spying on the two together, Joe resolves that Benji is not worthy of Beck. He then takes it upon himself to bludgeon, kidnap and eventually murder Benji (all for Beck’s own good, of course).

Joe’s violence is not altogether unforeseen or surprising considering his other beliefs, namely, his thinly veiled misogyny. In the opening scene when he first sees Beck in the bookstore, he notes that she is not “the standard insecure nymph hunting for Faulkner [she’ll] never finish.” This paraphrases another common pseudo-compliment: “you’re not like other girls.” This is the first of many red flags.

Next, it is immediately apparent that Joe hates Beck’s friends, for reasons colored by their gender. He scoffs at their careers (e.g., body-positive Instagram influencer), wealth, and personal lives (slut-shaming galore). He is irritated that Beck spends so much time with them, and is critical of everything from their “girly” cocktails to their weekly viewings of “The Bachelor.” He believes that “self-respecting women” should not have these interests, adding that he is the only “real feminist” whom Beck knows.

Throughout the series, this line struck me most, as it nails the toxic rationale of the “nice guy.” He is a “woke misogynist.” He thinks he is educated. He thinks he knows best, and that he is doing the right thing. These comments, littered throughout Joe's meandering narration, form the bridge between his apparently benign demeanor and his occasional violent actions. However lovingly disguised, the toxicity of this brand of masculinity inevitably seeps through.

Initially, the trope seems relatively harmless, particularly because the idea behind “nice guys” is that they are, in fact, nice. They are not threatening; they are the threatened. They are the band geek, the math nerd, whoever happens to be the antithesis to the bully and/or jock.

In classic romantic comedy narratives, these men are overlooked for the majority of the story until their love interest realizes the error of her ways and comes running to them. Examples include “13 Going on 30,” “The Lizzie McGuire Movie,” “The Princess Diaries,” and “10 Things I Hate About You” (just off the top of my head). Yet, at the root of this idea is sexual entitlement. Because a man is “nice” (i.e., not a “bro”), he is deserving of women’s attention and affection.

This idea spawns misogynistic movements, such as the uprising of self-proclaimed “pickup artists” and involuntary celibates (“incels”). These men troll online forums, demeaning women and sharing methods of manipulating women into sleeping with them. It can be easy to poke fun at these men, stereotypically donning fedoras and waxing poetic about chivalry, but their ideas still manifest in tragic ways.

In 2014, a man named Eliot Rodger went on a shooting spree in Isla Vista, California, killing six people and injuring fourteen. In particular, he attempted to target sorority houses because he felt sexually rejected by those women. He was active on pickup artist and incel sites and had posted several YouTube videos in the weeks preceding the attack, detailing his plans to murder women for their refusal to have sex with him. In his final video post, he called it “an injustice” that women were not attracted to him, referring to himself as “the supreme gentleman.”

Although Rodger’s parents reported these videos, law enforcement declined to pursue the matter or even search his apartment for weapons. Apparently, his threats did not meet the criteria for an involuntary psychiatric hold. Anyway, failure to prevent gun violence is a discussion for another time.

The point is that men who see themselves as “nice guys,” “gentlemen,” or otherwise deserving of love and sex from women, are not only problematic, but dangerous. Either predictably or in a shocking plot twist, depending on how you see it, “You” concludes with Beck’s death at Joe’s hands. He wouldn’t allow her to leave him. However he may have romanticized the story up to that point, the ending makes it clear that entitlement is not love.

Ultimately, violence underlies the culture of sexual entitlement, whether it escapes through micro-aggressions, sexual assault, or murder. Rather than downplaying or romanticizing this reality, “You” illustrates how these ideas thread together, culminating in extremes. Its haunting story underscores that violence is never a far leap from casual misogyny and entitlement.

Sexual Assault and Identity Revised, Part 2: Identity Subversion

This is a continuation of my last post. Here I will be examining more in-depth the situations introduced there. Again, I begin with a trigger warning. In this post I recount graphic jokes involving sexual assault and rape that will be dissected for their unintentional contribution to a discussion on how people subvert parts of their identities to better help communities of which they are a part, and some structural fixes to help survivors of sexual assault.

I pass no judgement about the experiences of those talked about in this piece; they were all put into an impossible situation and did what they thought was best at the time. I cannot fathom what I would do in that situation.

The first situation Kathrine Ryan addresses discusses actors who were relatively unknown (here meaning not famous), black, and female, in the context of their sexual assault by a famous, black, male actor, Bill Cosby. These assaults occurred in the 80s and 90s, a time when sexual assault victims were less likely to be believed. Because they were rarely believed, many did not report, and the two phenomena were in a feedback loop. drastically aggravating each other.

In this situation, multiple identities are at issue, and some were subverted for the benefit of others. Bill Cosby exerting his power over women ties into his identities as both famous and male, while the sexual assault he inflicts ties into the survivor's identities as unknown actors and as women. Additionally, these women said that they did not want to hinder Cosby's career because he was paving a way for black actors. These women essentially saw their identities as women as being at odds with their black identities. So, they subverted their identities as women to better serve their other identities, to benefit other constituencies. These victims did not want to feel like they were betraying the black community. That became a factor in them deciding not to report. Another prominent factor was the time the women were living in.

The second situation Kathrine Ryan addresses is an imaginary one that involves herself, a comedian who is famous, white, and female, and Tina Fey and Amy Schumer, two comedians who are both white, female, and arguably much more famous than Katherine. Fey and Schumer have also likely trailblazed the way for more women to be invited into comedic community.

This situation does not have the same race implications as the first situation, and also does not feature a subversion of identity. But, Ryan, albeit jokingly, says that she would keep quiet about a sexual assault by one of these women because of all they have done and are doing for women. In her hypothetical, she still seems willing to subvert her individual trauma for the betterment of her community, which is here aspiring female comics.

The last assault involves Kesha, a musician who is a white woman, and the trauma she experienced at the hands of Doctor Luke, a music producer who is white and a man. While this is mentioned only in passing (“Free Kesha”), it evokes a well-documented assault and legal fight involving Kesha and Dr. Luke. Kesha’s incident is completely different from the first two for two reasons.

First, Kesha reported her assault, in contrast to the first two situations I have described. Kesha even and even sued Dr. Luke for the harm he had caused her.

Second, Kesha was willing to give up her music career in order to get justice for her assault. She was willing to subvert her identity, her career, as a musician in order to try, with no guarantee, to get justice for the sexual assault she experienced because she was a woman. She was willing to subvert her needs as a musician to seek justice. This is the only situation where the assaulted survivor gave her identity as a woman primacy over her other identities.

So, what can we learn from this thought experiment? No one should be forced to choose between parts of their identity. We as a society should be doing everything in our power to remove the barriers to reporting sexual assault. If we do that, women will not be forced to subvert their needs to help others, for some apparent greater good. Two possible solutions could help.

First, in the first and second situations, better racial and gender representation on television would have given the attackers less power. In the first situation, if Bill Cosby had not been one of only a handful of black actors on television, his career and reputation would not have been as important to the black community. In the second situation, if the dearth of female-driven comedies and writer’s rooms did not exist, Kathrine would not have felt the need to make the joke about her not to be willing to report her imaginary sexual assault. Both instances show the real-world impact of diversity in media. The more diverse we make television and entertainment industries more broadly, the less power those in that industry wield.

Second, in the first and second situations, social stigma was cited as a barrier for survivors deciding not not to report. We can remove this barrier by believing survivors when they come forward. This would lessen the stigma surrounding the experience of surviving a sexual assault, and that would surely empower survivors.

If we look at both these issues, the first being cultural and the second being structural, then we can make it less likely sexual assault will occur. When it does occur, we will have made it easier for survivors of sexual assault to report their assault and get justice.

Sexual Assault and Identity Revised, Part 1: A Tale of Two (C/K)atherines

I want begin with a trigger warning. I recount graphic jokes involving sexual assault and rape, and I will dissect these in relation to their unintentional contribution to a discussion on how people subvert parts of their identities to better help communities they are part of, and some structural fixes to help survivors of sexual assault.

I pass no judgement about the experiences of those discussed in this piece; they were all put into an impossible situation and did what they thought was best at the time, and I cannot fathom what I would do in that situation.

This analysis will be split into two posts. The first post will go over the comedic piece and why the piece pairs nicely with Catherine MacKinnon’s theory of dominance feminism. The second post will look separately at the three events Katherine Ryan describes in her stand-up special It will also show that deciding whether or not to report sexual assault often involves multiple parts of a person’s identities, and a difficult decision to prioritize one or more over others.

Recently, to blow off some steam, I was recently watching Kathrine Ryan’s 2015 stand-up special. She is a white woman, born in Canada, who now resides as a single-mother in the United Kingdom. I have been struggling with a joke I heard on the special that went:

But on a serious note, a lot of women who were allegedly assaulted by Mr. Cosby were strong, power beautiful black women like me. And when asked, ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’ Ha! In addition to the many reasons why victims don’t come forward, these women were, like, ‘Hang on a minute. Look at the times.’ Because it didn’t happen today. Though it still happens today. Free Kesha. They were, like, ‘it happened a very long time ago,’ when these were struggling, young black actresses in America, and Mr. Cosby, a black man in the ‘80s there, was dominating television. They said, ‘I didn’t really feel like it was in my greater interest to bring that man down.’ And I have to tell you, on some level, as a female comedian, I kind of get that. Tina Fey could be raping me now, and I would tell no one. Amy Schumer could be wearing me like a watch, and I would just be like thank you for everything that you do for women in our industry.

While the jokes themselves are extremely crass and many would take offense at them, they accidentally stumble into a weird analysis of intersectional feminism and subverting identities that seem to address three completely different experiences of sexual assault.

Katherine Ryan accidentally stumbled into a Catherine MacKinnon feminist critique. Catherine MacKinnon idea of feminism has been labeled dominance or radical feminism. This strand of feminism stresses that the differences between men and women has become institutionalized in our government, laws, and even our thoughts. Further this difference gives men the dominant position in society and subordinates the women.

People even start to rationalize these differences, which gives the impression that the differences occur naturally. That in turn just reinforces people’s beliefs of why these difference should be codified or institutionalized.

So, what does Catherine MacKinnon dominance feminism have to do with Katherine Ryan’s stand up? Catherine MacKinnon describes sexual assault and rape as forms of discrimination on the basis of sex. MacKinnon believes that any time a man has sexual contact with a woman, even when it is consensual, he is exerting his sex over the women. MacKinnon states that the power dynamic between the two does not allow the woman to give full consent. This is especially heightened, however, when the woman declines sexual contact, but it is forced upon her. Therefore, MacKinnon believes, that any time there is unwanted sexual contact in the form of sexual assault or rape, this contact is a form of sex discrimination, and she believes that courts and legislatures should treat it as such.

This means, that in the three situations Katherine Ryan describes, two are forms of discrimination on the basis of sex.

In the first scenario, when Bill Cosby assaulted those two women, he was asserting himself over them, and was saying that he, as a male, was entitled to them as women, because they are worth less than them. He asserted what he perceived as his dominant position in society over their subordinate position. Catherine MacKinnon would qualify this as a form of sex discrimination.

In the third scenario, when Dr. Luke assaulted and tormented Kesha, he was also asserting himself over Kesha. Dr. Luke also saying that he, as a male, was entitled to do whatever he pleased to Kesha, because she, as a woman, is worth less than he is. He asserted what he perceived as his dominant position in society over her subordinate position. Catherine MacKinnon would also classify this as a form of sex discrimination.

However, the second scenario runs into a snag. When two women are committing sexual violence against another woman, how can they be asserting their dominance over her via their sex as women?

MacKinnon is familiar with this critique. She has often been accused of articulating a feminist vision that is heteronormative with her feminism. This depiction of sexual force does not explain why men assault other men, nor why women assault other women.

But I do agree with MacKinnon that heterosexual sexual assault is a form of dominance of the male sex over the female sex.

Exposing the race and privilege shield in college sexual assault and rape cases

Brock Turner, Jacob Anderson, Cory Batey, and Tevin Elliott are young American men commonly associated with sexual assault and rape. Despite committing the same heinous and despicable crime, these men faced drastically different punishments, apparently because of their race and respective privileges.

Brock Turner, a 19-year-old white male and Stanford University swimmer, faced multiple felony charges, including assault with the intent to rape an intoxicated woman. Numerous eyewitnesses corroborated the victim’s allegations and testified that they saw Turner forcibly penetrate the unconscious victim behind a dumpster.

Although a jury found Turner guilty of multiple felony rape offenses that typically carry a lengthy prison sentence, Santa Clara County Superior Court Judge Aaron Perksy sentenced Turner to six months in the local county jail, with the possibility of release within three months. In issuing the sentence, Judge Perksy viewed Turner’s alcohol impairment, character references, and lack of prior criminal record as mitigating factors. Moreover, Judge Perksy further justified his decision to award a lighter sentence by expressing his concern around the “severe impact that state prison could have on someone Turner’s age and the adverse collateral consequences on Turner’s life from a felony conviction.”

Similarly, Jacob Anderson, a white male and Baylor University fraternity president, faced charges of drugging and raping a 19-year-old female student. Ironically, this despicable act occurred in Waco, Texas, a city commonly known as “the buckle of the Bible Belt” and at a university with a sexual assault policy that prides itself on “expecting its students, faculty, and staff to engage in behaviors consistent with a Biblical understanding that physical sexual intimacy is to be expressed in the context of marital fidelity.”

However, as James C. Moore of CNN News aptly noted, “the Bible Belt seems often to be unbuckled.” Despite the city and university’s alleged adoption of these noble Biblical ideals, the court showed lenience when punishing Anderson. 

A Texas district judge allowed Anderson to plead to a lesser charge of unlawful restraint. Under this lesser charge, the court only required Anderson to pay a $400 fine and attend substance abuse and psychological treatment sessions. Anderson faced no prison time and escaped being publicly listed as sex offender, much to the general public’s dismay.

When looking at Turner and Anderson's cases in isolation, the race and privilege undertones behind their sentences may not be readily apparent. However, when comparing their sentences to other sentences for similar crimes, the role of race and privilege becomes painstakingly obvious.

For example, consider Tevin Elliott, a 20-year-old African American male and Baylor University football player. Elliott faced charges of sexual assault and rape, charges that were practically identical to the ones fellow Baylor student Jacob Anderson faced. However, their sentences differed significantly, as the judge sentenced Elliott to the 20 year maximum. Unlike Anderson, the judge gave Elliot no opportunity to plead to a lesser charge and denied his request for probation to raise his sons.

Similarly, Corey Batey, a 19-year-old African American male and Vanderbilt University football player, faced charges of sexually assaulting and raping an unconscious woman. Although the charges and evidence provided in Batey’s case closely resembled those against Turner, the outcomes varied starkly. While Turner was convicted of multiple felony charges and sentenced to only six months in a local prison, Batey was found guilty of three felony counts of rape and aggravated sexual battery. He was sentenced to 15-to-25 years in prison.

Shaun King of The New York Daily News highlights that Batey’s sentence was “3,000 percent longer than what Brock Turner was a given for a comparable crime.” King further emphasizes this harsh racialized reality by stating that “One man is black and the other is white. I won’t even ask you to guess which is which. This is America.” Unlike Turner’s case, the judge in Batey's case failed to consider the potential impact of incarceration on Batey’s future or the presence of any other mitigating factors.

While the racial implications of these sentences are themselves deeply troubling, what is even more unsettling and under-appreciated is their negative impact on female victims. Failing to hold these men equally accountable merely because of the color of their skin and socioeconomic status atrociously devalues the pain and trauma of their victims. 

Failing to hold these male perpetrators accountable diverts the focus away from obtaining justice for the victim to crafting arbitrary distinctions between perpetrators based on characteristics completely unrelated to the crimes they commit. The disparity in treatment of perpetrators ultimately disservices the victims of rape and sexual assault by resting their violators fate on their appearance and respective wealth rather than solely focusing on the nature and circumstances of the atrocities they commit.

These sentencing inequalities build a system where victims will only receive protection and justice if their perpetrators are people of color because those perpetrators are held to a higher standard and face harsher punishments for their actions. As the Sentencing Project’s 2013 report articulated, African-American males are six times more likely to go to prison than white males. 

But the question still remains: Why should a white male be treated any differently than an African-American male if their actions are virtually identical? Why should race and privilege shield some perpetrators while condemning others to a life sentence?

If a white male’s actions are equivalent in nature to those of an African-American male, they should be equally scrutinized and held accountable to the same high standard. Treating perpetrators differently is extremely unfair to victims, especially those of white male perpetrators. It forces these victims to live in a world where their violators potentially get off scot free. 

As the victim in Jacob Anderson's case described it, “[my perpetrator] is now free to roam society, stalk women, and no one will know that he is a sex offender.” Without perpetrators of similar crimes experiencing equivalent negative consequences, how can we expect victims to experience redemption?

Bitter Flowers: Chinese street girls in Paris

In the late 1990’s, China’s economy underwent rapid growth. The Northeast region of China became the frontier of this industrial transformation. Traditional manufacturing became obsolete and as a result, the rate of unemployment became very high. Unfortunately, most of the laid-off workers were women. Many of these women flocked to Paris hoping to make their fortunes, but hunger and homelessness forced them to work as prostitutes. In 2013, French director Nael Marandin wanted to tell the story of these Chinese prostitutes in Paris. Marandin had been volunteering with the World Health Organization for more than seven years, and he regularly provides medical and legal services to sex workers in Paris. Marandin’s 2015 film, She Walks(La Marchevse), surprised many audiences because it reveals the real life of the Chinese street girls.

According to the report of Le Parisien, on December 13, 2016, Paris police found a 39-year-old Chinese female corpse in an apartment in the Notre-Dame-de-Nazareth district. The deceased woman was recognized as a Chinese sex worker. She had been beaten before she was killed. This situation is not rare in France. By 2016, the number of Chinese ‘registered’ sex workers had reached 1,300 or more in Paris. But Government records indicate that the total number of Parisian sex workers consists of between 5,000 to 8,000. Chinese sex workers take up a big part of them.

During this period, an increasing number of Chinese women went to Paris because prostitution in France was legal until April, 2016. Many of these women came to France because they and their families were poor and believed that they could make a big fortune quickly. What's more, some women are making money for a luxurious life through prostitution. Whatever the purpose, Chinese sex workers are all trapped in the same dilemma. Eighty-six percent of Chinese sex workers admitted that they suffered at least one violent act from a customer. Most violence occurred when a sex worker insisted that the client should wear a condom.

Many cases are similar to the report in Le Parisien. On August 2, 2012, a sex worker from Jiangxi, China was strangled by a Palestinian young man after he refused to pay her. Besides physical harm, Chinese sex workers' property is also in danger. It is easy for customers to rob Chinese sex workers because these women exist in very fragile circumstances in France and it is difficult for them to protect themselves.

The primary issue is that almost all of the sex workers are without a required legal residence permit and, thus, cannot call the police or contact officials to ask for help . Second, local Chinese people distain the Chinese sex workers. Even if they beg for help, it is very possible that no one is willing to intervene. As a result, sex workers are forced to bear and digest the harm that they experience from society. What they believe is that they must endure pain and sorrow because they need money for their families or themselves. No matter what happens to their bodies or their hearts, Chinese girls will bite the bullet.

Prostitution is a topic relate to many fields of law including immigration law, administrative law and criminal law. From the angle of criminal law, Chinese sex workers are exposed to sexual assault, robbery and murder every day. French law punishes pimps and customers. The regulation of la penalisation des clients stipulates that the penalty for sex worker clients can reach 1500 euros, while the 'recidivism' of repeated transactions can be fined by up to 3750 euros. But punishing pimps and customers doesn't solve the problem. Sex workers have held demonstrations to protest the government's decision because they are losing customers.

In order to maintain their livelihoods, they have no choice but to cut prices, even to as low as 10 euros per trick. Occasionally, they are forced to engage in sex without condoms. What they express is that their desire for money is greater than their desire for legal protection. However, helping sex workers make money is not the duty of law. Another way of caring for sex workers that has emerged is 'Lotus Bus' in Paris. Lotus Bus regularly sends out free condoms to sex workers. Also, this organization holds AIDS prevention activities and other helpful programs for sex workers.

Besides France’s efforts, what are other ways to deal with Chinese sex workers’ problems regarding their livelihoods and the need to keep them away from the constant threat of danger. We need to address the root of the question. The source of this story goes back to human trafficking. More resources and money need to be put into preventing and punishing human trafficking. Another problem is the conflict between legalization of sex workers and punishment for their clients. Governments can assist sex workers by setting up career training programs to improve their professional skills. Courts are able to seal or eliminate records of sex workers if they stay in the training programs for a specific period of time. Another area for consideration is legalizing the contractual relationship between sex workers and customers as has occurred in Germany. This provides a means for sex workers to sue customers who refuse to pay for their services.

Bitter Flowers, which came out in 2017, is the latest movie regarding Chinese sex workers in Paris and was featured at various film festivals, such as Busan International Film Festival. Just like the name of the film, Chinese sex workers in Paris are living with sorrow and in darkness. Meanwhile, they dress like flowers to attract the attention of potential customers. Their difficulties push them to become stronger in the frigid Paris winter, but bitter flowers also need love and care to thrive.

Sexual assault and identity

I want begin with a trigger warning at the beginning of this post. I recount  graphic jokes involving sexual assault and rape that will be dissected for their unintentional contribution to a discussion on how people subvert parts of their identities to better help communities they are part of, and some structural fixes to help survivors of sexual assault.

I pass no judgement about the experiences of those talked about in this piece; they were all put into an impossible situation and did what they thought was best at the time, and I cannot fathom what I would do in that situation.

I was recently watching Kathrine Ryan’s 2015 stand-up special to blow off some steam. She is a white woman, born in Canada, who now resides as a single-mother in the United Kingdom. I have been struggling with a joke I heard on the special that went:

But on a serious note, a lot of women who were allegedly assaulted by Mr. Cosby were strong, power beautiful black women like me. And when asked, ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’ Ha! In addition to the many reasons why victims don’t come forward, these women were, like, ‘Hang on a minute. Look at the times.’ Because it didn’t happen today. Though it still happens today. Free Kesha. They were, like, ‘it happened a very long time ago,’ when these were struggling, young black actresses in America, and Mr. Cosby, a black man in the ‘80s there, was dominating television. They said, ‘I didn’t really feel like it was in my greater interest to bring that man down.’ And I have to tell you, on some level, as a female comedian, I kind of get that. Tina Fey could be raping me now, and I would tell no one. Amy Schumer could be wearing me like a watch, and I would just be like thank you for everything that you do for women in our industry.

While the jokes themselves are extremely crass and many would take offense at them, they accidentally stumble into a weird analysis of intersectional feminism and subverting identities that seem to address three completely different experiences of sexual assault.

The first situation Kathrine Ryan addresses discusses actors who were relatively unknown (here meaning not famous), black, and female, in the context of their sexual assault by a famous, black, male actor, Bill Cosby. These assaults occurred in the 80s and 90s, a time when sexual assault victims were less likely to be believed. This lack of belief then led to a lack of reporting, and the two functioned in a feedback loop. drastically aggravating each other.

In this situation, multiple identities are at issue, and some were subverted for the benefit of others. Bill Cosby exerting his power over women ties into his identities as both famous and male, while the sexual assault he inflicts ties into the survivor's identities as unknown actors and as women. Additionally, these women said that they did not want to hinder his career because he was paving a way for black actors. These women essentially saw their identities as women as being at odds with their black identities. So, they subverted their identities as women to better serve their other identities, benefiting other aspects of their communities. They did not want to feel like they were betraying the black community. That became a factor in them deciding not to report. Another prominent factor was the time the women were living in.

The second situation Kathrine Ryan addresses is an imaginary one that involves herself, a comedian who is famous, white, and female, and Tina Fey and Amy Schumer, two comedians who are both white, female, and arguably much more famous than Katherine. Fey and Schumer have also likely trailblazed the way for more women to be invited into comedic community than Ryan has.

This situation does not have the same race implications as the first situation, and also does not feature a subversion of identity. But, Ryan, even though jokingly, says that she would keep quiet about a sexual assault by one of these women because of all they have done and are doing for women. In her hypothetical, she still seems willing to subvert her individual trauma for the betterment of her community, which is here aspiring female comics.

The last assault involves Kesha, a musician who is a white woman, and the trauma she experienced at the hands of Doctor Luke, a music producer who is white and a man. While this is mentioned only in passing (“Free Kesha”), it evokes a well-documented assault and legal fight involving Kesha and Dr. Luke. Kesha’s incident is completely different from the first two for two reasons.

First, Kesha reported her assault and even sued Dr. Luke for the harm he had caused her. In the first two situations, the survivors did not report.

Second, Kesha was willing to give up her music career in order to get justice for her assault. She was willing to lose her identity, her career, as a musician in order to try, with no guarantee, to get justice for the sexual assault she experienced because she was a woman. She was willing to subvert her needs as a musician to seek justice. This is the only situation where the assaulted survivor gave her identity as a woman primacy over her other identities.

So, what can we learn from this thought experiment? No one should be forced to choose between parts of their identity. We as a society should be doing everything in our power to remove the barriers to reporting sexual assault. If we do that, women will not be forced to subvert their needs to help others, for some apparent greater good. Two possible solutions could help in these situations.

First, in the first and second situations, better racial and gender representation on television would have given the attackers less power. In the first situation, if Bill Cosby had not been one of only a handful of black actors on television, his career and reputation would not have been as important to the black community. In the second situation, if the dearth of female-driven comedies and writer’s rooms did not exist, Kathrine would not have felt the need to make the joke about her not to be willing to report her imaginary sexual assault. Both instances show the real-world impact of diversity in media. The more diverse we make television and entertainment industries more broadly, the less power those in that industry wield.

Second, in the first and third situations, social stigma was cited as a barrier for survivors deciding not not to reporting. We can remove this barrier by believe survivors when they come forward. This would lessen the stigma surrounding the experience of surviving a sexual assault would be less.

If we look at both these issues, the first being cultural and the second being structural, then we can make it less likely that there will be sexual assault, and when there is, then we can make it easier for survivors of sexual assault to report their assault and get justice.

Killing the “less dead”: Sam Little

It is an unfortunate reality that there are people who exist who find excitement and pleasure in killing. It is even more unfortunate that when these people turn the corner and become serial killers, they grow ever more aware of new methods to avoid capture. One method, however, that has remained a timeless strategy for killers seeking to remain undetected is to kill the “less dead.”

The term less dead applies to many victims of serial killers. It is used to define the people whom society has deemed less important. These are the marginalized groups - the people who attract less attention and whose faces networks decide are not worthy of broadcast. These are mostly people of color, sex workers, LGBTQ, and the poor.

These groups generally lack status and social standing and are ignored and devalued by the  community. Therefore the police tend to give only a cursory glance to the deaths or disappearances of those from marginalized backgrounds, if that. These women are the perfect victims for someone looking to kill without making headlines or attract the attention of law enforcement.

Through my next few blog posts, I will examine specific instances of marginalized women dying or disappearing at the hands of serial killers known or unknown. I will attempt to unpack how society has treated these crimes and if there has been any change in the last few years to how crimes like these are investigated. I also wish to use this space to give recognition for the victims of these crimes, many of whom have yet to see justice served against those who harmed them.

This brings me to the main focus of this first blog: Sam Little. Little is confirmed to have killed at least 34 marginalized women between 1970 and 2005. However, that number pales in comparison to the at least 90 women he has confessed to murdering during his lifetime.

Despite the fact the federal investigators in charge of identifying the victims have stated Little is one of the most prolific serial killers in U.S. history, he has not received the attention other serial killers operating around the same time have gotten.

For example, Ted Bundy was also active during 1970, the same time as Little. Bundy is a household name with countless documentaries and movies written about him (the most recent set to star Zac Efron) while Little is obscure and scarcely discussed. This is because the women Bundy killed were white college co-eds, and the women Little killed were almost exclusively sex workers of color.

To focus on his crimes in Los Angeles in particular, Little has stated in 1987 alone he killed six black women. Little then left Los Angeles to kill elsewhere, only to return between 1990 and 1993 to kill an additional five women and again in 1996 to kill four women.

One of these women, Guadalupe Apodaca, was found in an abandoned parking garage in South Central Los Angeles. This was almost exactly where the kidnappers of Patty Hearst, the famous white heiress, were gunned down in front of a media frenzy. There were no stories in the media about Apodaca’s death.

It wasn’t until April 2012 when Los Angeles detective Mitzi Roberts began to enter cold cases into DNA databases that Sam Little was connected forensically to Apodaca’s murder. As Roberts began to investigate Little, she noticed a disturbing trend in his convictions and crimes. While he was sentenced to lengthy prison terms for crimes like robbing a furniture store, when Little was found guilty in 1976 of “assault with attempt to ravish” for strangling, raping, sodomizing, and beating Pamela Smith, he was only sentenced to three months.

In these instances, society sent a clear message to Little and other killers: attack women of color and you’ll get a pass, but if you try to steal property you’re going away.

Little’s victims knew this themselves. One victim, Leila McClain, who was able to escape Little before he killed her told Roberts why she didn’t report the attack to the police. She said:

Ain’t nobody cared until that white girl (Melinda LePerre; Little was acquitted of her murder) turned up dead a year later. Didn’t nobody care about a black prostitute in Mississippi. No, ma’am, they didn’t.

This reality is something Little was acutely aware of. In an interview with a reporter in December 2018, Little revealed that the reason he chose women of color and sex workers was because he knew the police didn’t investigate those crimes. He was aware the rest of society didn’t seem to care if these women died. Little explained:

 I never killed no senators or governors or fancy New York journalists. Nothing like that. [If] I killed you, it’d be all over the news the next day. I stayed in the ghettos.

It wasn’t until someone finally did care that Little’s reign of terror came to an end. It is because of Detective Mitzi Roberts that the murders in Los Angeles began to be connected to Little. Roberts’ dedication in her investigation of Little revealed not only another confirmed murder victim in LA, but also multiple survivors of Little’s attacks, including Leila McClain.

It was with this dedication, and the courage of survivors like McClain testifying, that Little was finally brought to justice in 2014. After a lengthy trial filled with criminalists, expert witnesses, police officers, and pathologists, Little was convicted of three counts of first-degree murder and sentenced to three consecutive life sentences.

Little’s crimes show us the pervasive impact racism and sexism have on the safety of women. Little was able to commit so many murders because he realized that if he killed women who society did not care about no one would even bother to look for him.

In my opinion, this case shows the importance of having women, specifically women of color work in investigative capacities. If it weren’t for the increase in female detectives such as Roberts, it is unclear how long Little would be able to remain an anonymous killer.

Although Little is serving three life sentences, there are still over 50 victims that have yet to be identified. The FBI has generated a list of these unidentified victims using descriptions from Little himself. This list can be found here.

Vagina dentata: revisiting Teeth

Mitchell Lichenstein’s 2007 cult-classic, Teeth, recently celebrated its tenth birthday. The film is polarizing for many reasons, when I first tried watching it a few years ago I didn’t make it through the whole thing because I simply didn’t think it was a good movie. The film’s pacing is sporadic, the acting is spotty at best, and movie feels amateurish. Recently I watched the film in its entirety when it popped up on Netflix. Looking back, I now realize that I originally failed to appreciate that the film was worth more than the sum of its parts and that it was accomplishing something truly unique.

Teeth is a black-comedy/horror film following the cleverly named Dawn O’Keefe, a teenager who preaches abstinence largely due to her curious case of vagina dentata. Vagina dentata is exactly what you probably think it is, her vagina has teeth. Despite the film’s plot alluding to the centuries old folklore surrounding vagina dentata, I originally dismissed the idea as a ridiculous fiction constructed to explain the film. It wasn’t until watching the film again recently that I bothered to look up vagina dentata and realized the film’s concept is based on real folktales. As the film suggests, historically the myth of the toothed vagina involved suffering women who needed the help of a male hero to break their curse. In Teeth, Dawn flips these myths on their head.

Teeth opens up with a toddler-aged Dawn sharing a kiddie pool with her step-brother, Brad. Brad exposes himself to Dawn and asks to see what her genitals look like. The next thing we see is Brad crying out in pain, holding out a bloody finger. The insinuation here being that Brad stuck his finger inside Dawn’s vagina and was bitten. The film then fast-forwards to a high-school aged Dawn leading a discussion on virtues of celibacy with her religious abstinence group. Throughout the first third of the film we see Dawn and her friends, outspoken about their beliefs, repeatedly mocked by their peers for their message. Dawn’s parents also don’t understand why their daughter is big on abstinence. We also find out that Brad, Dawn’s step-brother, grew up to be an abusive young man with incestuous fantasies.

Throughout the film we see allusions to how our society treats sex. Dawn and her friends represent one extreme end of society, an abstinent segment which speaks of the immorality of pre-marital sex and warns about damnation to those who break the rules. The school administration presents views not far removed from Dawn’s. In one scene, Dawn is sitting in a high school sexual education class where penises are on open display but all textbook depictions of vaginas are covered with patches. When a student expresses his confusion on the matter, Dawn comes to the teacher’s defense citing that vaginas need to be hidden because, “girls have a natural modesty.” The majority of Dawn’s peers represent the way that the majority of teenagers exist in our society. These students aren’t celibate but they clearly hold misogynist ideas about sex and are desperately misinformed about their own bodies, especially the women. Brad represent another extreme segment in society, the ultra-misogynist segment that’s a constant threat to women. Brad’s room is completely covered by posters of naked or near-naked women, he insists on anal sex with no eye contact, he dehumanizes his girlfriend by trying to make her eat dog food, and he repeatedly sexually assaults Dawn.

I understand the complaints of feminist critics, like those cited by Bella Artiquez of BitchFlicks. It is a little odd to have a feminist hero who doesn’t understand the first thing about her body and is repeatedly taken advantage of by nearly every male she comes in contact with. Dawn is victimized in the film’s first scene by Brad when he sticks his fingers in Dawn’s vagina. She is victimized by a boy in her abstinence group who she trusts when he forces himself on her. She is victimized by her gynecologist who invasively prods her genitals. Even when she finally has sex that is comparatively pleasant, it’s only after she’s been drugged and with a boy who clearly doesn’t respect her in any way. Like Artiquez, I don’t think that any of this should be held against Dawn when it comes to deciding how we view her. It isn’t her fault that she lives in a society that degrades women, that even the men that she trusts end up betraying her, and that neither her parents nor her teachers have taught her the first thing about healthy sex and female anatomy. In fact, I believe all of this makes Dawn even more of a compelling feminist hero. She suffers greatly in a way that countless women suffer on a daily basis yet by the end of the film she flips the script and embraces her “curse.”

After biting off the penises of a few men accidentally, Dawn realizes that she can control her condition. Sick of being taken advantage of, Dawn starts by ripping off the penis of a boy who drugged and raped her. Soon after she turns her sights towards Brad. After taking care of Brad we see Dawn essentially disappear into an unknown future with unknown objectives, the only thing clear being that she’s done being taken advantage of is no longer afraid of using her condition as a means of revenge and self-defense against men. Her condition becomes empowering rather than debilitating.

It is only now, ten years later, that I’ve been able to appreciate Teeth for the value of what it accomplished. Wesley Morris of the Boston Globe puts it nicely;

"Teeth" runs on a kind of angry distrust toward boys. It doesn't think a lot of them, in much the same way certain teen comedies and horror films don't think highly of girls. The reversal is a lot more satisfying to watch, both as a laughing feminist critique of horniness and as a gleeful inversion of the vagina dentata myth.

The film subverts not only horror-genre norms but more broad film norms. As Morris already pointed out above, in Teeth it’s men for once who are disposable. As another viewer points out, it’s also noticeable how Lichenstein had no problem portraying multiple bloody severed penises while showing very little female nudity. This certainly isn’t a norm in film as penises are almost never shown while female nudity is common.

The film remains controversial to this day with people still debating whether the film is actually any good to whether Dawn should be seen as a feminist hero or not. In the lead up to writing this post I came across a recent article by Sirin Kale of Broadly. In her article, Kale shares a conversation she had with Teeth’s producer, Joyce Pierpoline. Pierpoline mentions how people become visibly uncomfortable when she mentions she produced Teeth. She mentions how while pitching the film, she was turned down my almost every studio, with one her managers advised her against sharing the script as men run the industry and they had no interest in a film like Teeth. Even after the crew secured funding for the film, actually creating the movie continued to be difficult. A film commissioner showing the film crew potential locations refused to work with the crew as soon as he read the script. He even went as far as to warn the location managers that the film was pornographic. Additionally, the studio executives forced the filmmakers to present the film as a pure horror movie in the same vein as movies like Saw when the filmmakers wanted to present it as a black comedy. If I was still on the fence about whether I considered this film valuable or not, reading Pierpoline’s comments certainly settled it. Much like Dawn, this film was battered and abused along the way nevertheless it persisted and we’re all better off for it. Regardless of whether this film is technically a “good” film or not, it is incredibly valuable for the conversations it provokes and the norms that it subverts.

Why college fraternities are bad for boys too

Recent exposé documentaries like The Hunting Ground, have shed light on the sexual assault epidemic that has gripped college campuses across the US. Although there is no clear profile of what a sexual predator on campus looks like, statistics have shown that fraternity members are three times more likely than other males to commit rape. This is a startling figure.

In 2014, a BBC correspondent spoke to students in Boulder about the problem. Nearly all those interviewed blamed ‘frat’ culture for encouraging and justifying sexually predatory behaviour amongst their members. Significantly, no spokesperson from any fraternity or Greek Life organisation in Boulder was willing to comment publicly on the issue.

However, one frat member, Edmund, volunteered to give the BBC reporter “the other side to the story”. Edmund defended fraternities, arguing that they are often scapegoated when it comes to incidents of sexual assault. He accused the media and wider student body of misinterpreting fraternity culture. Instead Edmund insisted that college fraternities are “founded on Christian values”. 

When asked about specific instances involving fraternity members, Edmund expressed the opinion that girls who dress in what he called “extremely provocative clothing” and who drink excessive amounts of alcohol at a party are “setting themselves up for a hook-up of sorts”. Edmund was also critical of the affirmative consent requirement under American law, arguing that it means, in reality, that a boy needs a girl’s permission to “unbutton every button on her shirt”. Evidently then, Edmund believes that legally no girl should be allowed to refuse her consent if a boy wishes to undress her. That, to say the least, is a very interesting viewpoint - assuming, of course, it fairly represents what fraternities believe in! 

As far as I see, then, public statements by frat members such as Edmund - and the general frat organisation response (or lack of it) to student and media attacks on Greek life - make it easy for feminists to view fraternity culture as a threat to women. Yet, from what I’ve observed, there seems to be just as good a case for regarding fraternities as a threat to boys as well. 

One aspect of certain fraternity cultures that is gaining increasing public attention is the custom of hazing. Hazing is, apparently, a not uncommon feature of college fraternity initiation. The practice often involves physical violence, sexual coercion, forced alcohol consumption or degrading or dangerous “pranks” such as compelling frat initiates to eat vile food mixtures. All this is seemingly done in the name of tradition and “brotherhood”.

In the US, hazing is known to have resulted in the deaths of 70 male students since 2000. Notably, that figure does not include episodes dismissed as “accidents”. But what is more unsettling is the fact that alcohol and hazing related deaths now appear to be on the increase, despite the banning of such “rituals” in many states. The accounts of these deaths make deeply disturbing reading.

The BBC recently told the story of 19 year old Tim Piazza, a student of Penn State University, who died on 4 February 2017 after taking part in a hazing event for the Beta Theta Pi Fraternity. CCTV surveillance showed that Tim was given at least 18 drinks in the 82 minutes before he fell 15ft down the steps of the fraternity house’s basement. Shockingly, 12 hours were allowed to pass before his “brothers” decided to call emergency services. Medical reports found that Tim had suffered a fractured skull and irreversible traumatic brain injuries. His spleen had ruptured in multiple places, causing extensive internal bleeding and haemorrhagic shock. As a result, 26 fraternity members are now facing charges for involuntary manslaughter. Moreover, since Tim’s death, three other frat members at different US universities have died – two in the last couple of weeks. 

Understandably, stories like those of poor Tim and other victims, have led some colleges to ban hazing and Greek Life altogether. It remains to be seen whether that measure will be successful. Personally, I’m sceptical. Why? Because, to my mind, if boys as well as girls are to be properly protected, we need to recognise, above all else, that hazing is an unavoidable consequence of “hyper-masculine” environments. I know that, even in Irish colleges for example, where there is no such thing as fraternities, hazing still occurs in certain exclusively male clubs and societies. 

It seems, then, that, whilst prohibiting hazing and Greek life is certainly something that all universities should consider doing, it will probably not be enough, by itself, to protect students. We need equally to face the fact that the promises of friendship and camaraderie that fraternities and other exclusively male organisations offer is a great illusion. Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t believe that facilitating young men, at any level, to found their closest friendships on extreme physical and mental abuse is good for them, or for women. Indeed, if this is how boys are encouraged to behave towards those they are meant to call “brothers”, how can we expect them to treat girls with any greater decency?

Airing Ireland's dirty linen

Moving to America has made me realise how proud I am to be Irish. While my migration to Davis was inherently daunting, the fear and uncertainty about being so far away from home has been tempered by the genuine warmth of those who detect even the slightest hint of my accent. In many ways, it has helped me combat the sense of feeling like an outsider.

While I consider it a privilege that the utterance of my nationality enjoys a largely positive reception, my absence from Ireland has imparted on me a large deal of objectivity in it’s assessment, particularly from a feminist perspective. The reality is, although I’m proud of certain facets of my Irish identity, as a woman I’m also deeply embarrassed by it.

Earlier last week, a New York Time’s video titled ‘The lost children of Tuam’ circulated my Facebook newsfeed. This deeply poignant video documents the discovery, and subsequent cover up of a mass burial chamber, where the remains of at least 796 ‘illegitimate’ children and infants were dumped by the Bon Secours sisters in an act of what can only be described as pure sacrilege. You see, the Republic of Ireland, since its nascence in the early 20th Century, has been ensnared and indoctrinated by the Catholic Church. The result? The systemic enslavement and abuse of thousands of unmarried mothers in ‘mother and baby homes’, otherwise known as Magdalene Laundries, which were run by four religious orders of the Catholic Church and covertly financed by the Irish State.

The Magdalene Laundries have left a gaping wound across the social and political landscape of modern Ireland. Often referred to as Magdalene Asylums, they appeared on the surface to be institutions where women were expected to work in a laundry in return for bed, board and atonement for their sins. Behind this façade a different story. The nuns that ran these laundries quietly profited off washing the linen of local wealthy families while at the same time physically, emotionally and spiritually abusing these women.

They functioned as institutions for ‘fallen women’, so firmly believed to be in the clutches of depravity for daring to, or having the misfortune of becoming pregnant outside of marriage. With contraception only barely being legalised in Ireland in 1980 (another string of society the master puppeteer Church controlled), accidental pregnancies, not to mention pregnancies arising from the abhorrent acts of rape and incest, were almost inevitable. Among these “fallen women” were sufferers of mental health illnesses as well as women with petty criminal convictions, however the vast majority of those enslaved were unmarried mothers averaging at the tender age of 23.

The short film gives a voice to some of the survivors of this particular mother and baby home in Tuam. One man painfully detailed that when his mother had gotten pregnant outside of marriage “the priest in the parish got to hear about it and told her parents that it was an awful disgrace. That she couldn’t be seen out because she’d be a bad influence”. I assure you, this was not an isolated incident. We have to remember that practically until the turn of the 21st Century, the Catholic Church ruled supreme in Ireland. A priest paying attention to a particular person or a particular family was akin to God himself sitting down with you for tea. This monopoly on society meant that a priest telling a family how disgraceful their daughter was would often garner a visceral reaction of shame and disgust, resulting in their ‘beloved’ daughter being coerced into a mother and baby home in order to escape the toxic scrutiny of the insular Irish society. Almost always the families were told the same lie; “the nuns would look after her there”.

While the government closed this particular mother and baby home in Tuam in 1961, it continued to operate similar homes across the country right up until 1996. I wouldn’t have enough space in this post to fully detail the abuses women faced at the hands of the supposedly ‘trusted’ clergy, however at least 23,000 unmarried women were put in these homes and forced to give up their infants. Whether they were starved, neglected, left to fester in their own waste, smothered, beaten or illegally bartered off to rich American families, their children were most brutally punished for being the fruits of a perceived union of ‘sin’. They were punished for the innocence of their mere existence.

I was born a year after the last laundry was shut. However, growing up in a supposed ‘post-laundry’ landscape doesn’t rid the horrors from Irish memories or consciences. In 2013, our former Taoiseach Enda Kenny was moved to tears in the Dáil while issuing a formal apology to all women whose suffering had long gone unnoticed. This apology was accompanied by a plan to provide reparations to the few remaining survivors of the laundries, with the Church so piously refusing to contribute.  However, it was not until February 2017 that the mass grave in Tuam was addressed by Kenny in the Dáil;

“No nuns broke into our homes to kidnap our children. We gave them up to what we convinced ourselves was the nuns' care. We gave them up maybe to spare them the savagery of gossip, the wink and the elbow language of delight in which the holier than thous were particularly fluent.... Indeed for a while it seems as if in Ireland our women had the amazing capacity to self impregnate”.

While State-issued apologies can do little more than affirm an injustice was committed, I struggle with the fact that my country propagated such a disgraceful, inhumane treatment of women merely because society deemed them to have "fallen". It’s a topic I can do little justice to in a blog post other than highlight its existence. However, to end almost where I began, in times such as these when I find myself marooned from home undergoing bouts of homesickness, I can’t neglect this. As a feminist, my national pride is wholly eclipsed by the embarrassment flowing from my country’s acts against women, and no number of Americans warmly telling me what percentage Irish heritage they are will ever override that embarrassment.

DeVos and campus sexual assault

President Trump's Department of Education chair Betsy DeVos recently made headlines by rescinding the Obama administration's guidelines for campus sexual assault investigations/adjudications, as set forth in the so-called "Dear Colleague Letter.

DeVos decided to do so after meeting with multiple stakeholders/advocacy groups including, most controversially, "men's rights" groups and advocacy groups for the wrongfully accused. For example, one group she met with was Stop Abusive and Violent Environments, which advocates for increased due process rights for those accused of sexual assault on campus. The group was recently "labeled misogynistic by the Southern Poverty Law Center after it published a set of 'key facts' about domestic violence that said 'female initiation of partner violence is the leading reason for the woman becoming a victim of subsequent injury.'" It is incredible that an agency tasked with promoting the civil rights protections and anti-sex discrimination provisions of Title IX would actively seek the opinions of such an organization.

After repealing the Obama-era guidelines, DeVos put new interim guidelines (in the form of a Q&A) in place. Citing due process considerations, the guidelines now allow campuses to choose between the preponderance of the evidence standard and the clear and convincing evidence standard when investigating allegations of sexual assault.

I have actually been surprised by the public criticism of the preponderance of the evidence standard of review. Multiple news outlets, including USA Today, the New York Times, and The Atlantic have published editorials and opinion pieces supporting the decision to move toward a stricter standard of review in campus sexual assault investigations. While I support a fair review process, I also recognize the various reasons a preponderance of the evidence standard is appropriate for campuses. First, campus investigations aren't criminal investigations, and thus the preponderance of the evidence standard (which is used in civil proceedings) seems more fitting. Additionally, colleges and universities have an interest in protecting their students (both the accuser/survivor, and other students on campus) and should be able to do so by making their own determinations of whether or not student conduct violations have occurred. Why should allegations of sexual misconduct be held to a higher standard of review than other student conduct violations?

Most importantly, in my view, the preponderance standard places the accuser and the accused on more equal footing. This latter consideration is especially critical in sexual assault cases where there may already be a tremendous power imbalance between the accuser and accused and where social stigma and skepticism attaches to survivors from the moment they come forward.

While ample room exists for improvement in other aspects of campus investigations, I don't believe that the preponderance of the evidence standard is the problem. Heightening the standard of review would make it even more difficult for survivors to get a meaningful resolution and might further deter survivors from reporting sexual assaults.

Another troubling component of DeVos' interim guidelines is that it opens the door to informal resolution such as mediation. As I learned from watching The Hunting Ground, universities have a strong financial incentive to gloss over incidents of sexual violence that occur on campus. Despite this recognized conflict of interest, the interim guidelines fail to provide any details on how a mediation should be carried out. This is problematic, since universities have a strong incentive to steer parties toward informal mediation, rather than dealing with a more difficult (from a public relations standpoint) adversarial process. Furthermore, doesn't mediation intuitively signal that each party carries some blame or, alternatively, that there is no liable party? What message does this send to perpetrators who, through mediation, may evade meaningful punishment for their actions? Will mediation deter perpetrators from engaging in sexually assaultive conduct in the future?

Additionally, although a sexual assault is treated as a civil rights violation under Title IX, the fact is that the underlying behavior was sexually violent conduct. As a result, survivors of sexual assault often experience feelings of trauma, confusion, shame, and internalized guilt. Is a face-to-face mediation between a survivor and a perpetrator appropriate in the aftermath of a sexual assault? Are college administrators equipped to protect survivors and prevent additional trauma during the process?

Overall, I feel DeVos' interim guidelines signal that the current administration is more concerned with the rights of the accused than those of the victims. Furthermore, these new rules are a solution to a problem (false accusations) that is overestimated and overblown... only 2%-10% of rape accusations are estimated to be false. Compare the dubious concerns over a false accusation epidemic with the very real and demonstrable epidemic of campus sexual assault. Given the data, it should be clear that campus sexual assaults - not false accusations - are the larger problem. Thus, Title IX policies and procedures should be written in a way that leads schools to effectively and meaningfully address sexual assaults. Rather than giving campuses more leeway, we should give clear and detailed guidance for all schools to follow. This would would encourage consistent treatment of cases across campuses and make it more difficult for disingenuous institutions/administrators to sweep sexual violence under the rug.


A number of Democratic lawmakers have recently put forward legislation that would make certain advisory guidelines of the Dear Colleague Letter (including use of the preponderance of the evidence standard) actual law. Unfortunately, given the current political climate, I have little optimism of their efforts succeeding. Nevertheless, if and when Congress decides to codify guidelines for dealing with campus sexual assault, one can only hope it considers the purpose behind Title IX: to allow students equal access to education, with meaningful protections from sexual harassment and violence... not to shelter institutions or the accused.

Got any bruises from your last beating? Here’s how to hide them with makeup!

On November 23rd, 2M TV aired a makeup tutorial segment featured on their morning TV show Sabahyate. It is safe to say that usually, makeup tutorials do not get a lot of attention in the mainstream media or create any uproar. Although, this time, the tutorial went viral on the Internet and numerous newspapers published articles about it.

In the video, the makeup artist explains how to hide traces of domestic violence and demonstrates how to effectively apply concealer and foundation on bruises. While the artist is applying cosmetics on a woman’s fake bruises and marks, she and the host casually make the following statements, among other advice:

Make sure to use loose powder to fix the makeup, so if you have to work throughout the day, the bruises don’t show.
After the beating, this part is still sensitive, so don’t press.
We hope that these beauty tips help you carry on with your normal life. (The Washington Post)

2M is Morocco’s national TV channel owned by the Government of Morocco. According to 2M TV's website, they wish to promote gender equality and the deconstruction of gender stereotypes in their programs and policies. 2M even has publicly available guidelines in which they acknowledge the  national channel’s impact on Moroccan society and commit to value and present women’s image in a way that advocates for gender equality.

The show aired two days prior to the UN’s international day for the elimination of violence against women. Apparently, Sabahyate’s decision makers thought it would be timely and appropriate to broadcast a tutorial about hiding traces of violence. However, as soon as the segment was posted on the Internet, social media responded rather virulently. Moroccan people, as well as others, wrote outraged Tweets and posts. More than 3,000 people signed the Change.org ‘Don’t cover domestic violence with makeup’ petition that was launched in reaction to the segment. The petitioners wrote:

As Moroccan women and as feminist activists in Morocco, and in the name of all Moroccan people, we denounce the message of normalization with violence against women.

Two days after the show aired, on the international day for the elimination of violence against women, 2M released a statement on their Facebook page. The channel thanked the citizens who showed their vigilance through social media and explained:

Management believes that this segment is completely inappropriate and displays a lack of editorial understanding due to the sensitivity and seriousness of the subject of violence against women.
This approach is in total contradiction with the editorial identity of the channel and […] the commitment of 2M for 27 years in favor of the defense of women’s rights.

Considering the media’s influence and role as a national TV channel, it is somehow comforting to see that 2M reacted quickly and issued this apology statement – or 'clarification' as they named it. It is also somehow uplifting to witness social media’s force as a positive tool to denounce this type of insidious message. Perhaps this internet buzz could lead to more awareness about the issue of normalized violence, in a similar way to the Salvation's Army's ad campaign in which they used the Dressgate buzz to condemn abuse against women (more on this in this blog post).

Violence against women and domestic violence are sadly common phenomena. In Morocco, a 2015 national report found that almost two out of three women have suffered from gender violence. Of these two-thirds, 55% reported conjugal violence. In the US, according to The Huffington Post’s statistics, one in four women will be victims of severe violence by an intimate partner in their lifetimes, and a woman is beaten every nine seconds. These shocking statistics highlight how critical it is to raise awareness, to reject violence in any form and to take action. The makeup tutorial made violence look like it was an acceptable part of a woman’s everyday life. The show’s promotion of concealing bruises contributed to victim-shaming instead of blaming the person responsible for the beating. The video made it seem normal to camouflage bruises as part of a beauty routine. It is absolutely not normal and should not be presented as such.

How to Respond to this Election - Part I "Everyday Activism"

The results of the 2016 election of Donald Trump had been affecting me for over a week before I found a way to articulate my sentiments about it. “Found a way” is incorrect; my emotions, one day, spilled out of me in a torrent of words that rushed like a river ice-floe. Along with many others in this country, I had been alternating between grief and helplessness, between anger and resentment, between despair and hope for seven days and then, finally, I spoke.

Though it was just to my partner Ben, alone in the car, what a relief it was to say:

“I’m despondent to live in a country who has elected a leader that, despite his feeble arguments to the contrary, has indicated that misogyny and sexual assault of women are more than OK with him. I’m terrified that my beloved compatriots from marginalized racial and ethnic groups can now be openly discriminated against and that all our efforts to reform police racism and ethnocentrism may be slowed. I'm sad that queer people might soon struggle to see same-sex partners in the hospital. I'm anxious for the future of our environment. And . . .” There were tears in my eyes now, “Last Tuesday I woke up believing that a woman could ascend to the highest position of power in this county. On Wednesday, I found, to my disbelief, that she can’t. Not yet. And perhaps she never will in my lifetime. I feel like women will be second-class citizens for much longer than I expected.”

I couldn't believe my own words, but there they were sitting between us as we speed around the curve of the 101 North into the Mission district of San Francisco. When we got to the Mission, I looked around at the brilliant multi-faceted community of that neighborhood. I thought of all the aspects of humanity that I love there. My thoughts went something like:

LGBTQIA folks of the Mission remind me that love and relationships can reach beyond prosaic boundaries. Thinking about them, I hear the opinions of Trump nominees like Steve Bannon and Jeff Sessions echoing around my head. Rich cultural traditions bring amazing art, food, spirituality, and diverse thinking to the Mission. My stomach turns when I think of the sheer panic that many immigrants will now live in. The variety of race, skin tone, ethnicity, and background in collaboration makes the Mission a space of kinship and appreciation across differing experience. I am filled with anguish about the highly racist environment our president-elect seems to be vivifying. According to recent scholarship, American Latinas (the Mission is a highly Latino and Chicano community) have "rapidly surfaced as prominent contributors to the educational, economic, and cultural wellbeing of not only their own ethnicity, but of American society and the consumer marketplace." Despite the dynamic, impressive contributions that Latinas make to my world every day, all I can think of is how to respond to the devastation those women must feel.

Ben and I sat at dinner in sullen silence that night in the Mission, depressed about our nation.We'd chosen a lovely little restaurant to eat at, but we could only stare out at the vibrant neighborhood that we love, which suddenly felt under siege.

Over the next few days, I had the luck to be researching for a Mediation paper. The research largely focused on the work-arounds, negotiations, and maneuvers women have used to navigate the age-old imbalance of power in a "man's world". In my research, I discovered Professor James C. Scott, a political scientist who argues that everyday forms of resistance "are an integral part of the small arsenal of relatively powerless groups." He gives examples such as "foot-dragging, dissimulations, false compliance, feigned ignorance, desertion" and more that can act as potent negotiating tactics for those out of power.

I loved this idea! While I cannot deny Donald Trump's impending presidency because it's happening whether I like it or not, suddenly, I realized I could respond to it. I could respect our government, but at the same time, I could find my own "everyday forms of resistance" in keeping with a long female tradition of doing so. I was heartened to see that Jill Filipovic in Esquire, Matt Taylor in Vice, Jaya Saxena in the Daily Dot, and staff at Seattle's The Stranger have all been publishing hope along similar lines.

So, I intend to use this blog post and my subsequent post to recommend some ways that those of us who feel powerless, who feel overwhelmed --who believe in our government, but not in the hatred and small-mindedness that it seems to be sanctioning-- can react and respond.

Part I "Everyday Activism"

Here is a small list of the #smallacts that have gained traction. Perhaps our small acts can make meaningful, loving, large ripples.

1. Consider donating to Planned Parenthood in Mike Pence's name, as 50,000 people have done.
2. Learn how to talk to children about hate speech, as this new Equal Justice Society guide recommends.
3. If you live in California, consider volunteering/being an ally at one of the UC's AB540 offices, such as the Undocumented Student Center here at UC Davis.
4. Contact your senators to oppose Trump nominations and appointments of people who have disgraceful civil rights records (for example).
5. Support mayors who intend to keep their cities Sanctuary Cities.
6. Keep apprised of Trump's intention to scale back environmental regulation, and perhaps volunteer with orgs like the American Lung Association to raise awareness about clean air.
7. Remember that women all over the world are being oppressed, and may struggle with much greater persecution than people of female gender here in the US. Consider supporting women's rights in Rwanda, in Nigeria, in Bangladesh, and all over the world.

These are just small things, but they have helped me keep my chin up. I hope they help you too.

Stay tuned for Part II "Get Legal" !