Have you ever heard the term “rape culture” used before? I hadn’t until my college years, but it really came into my consciousness with what’s happened in Steubenville, Ohio since last August and with the media reports I’ve read.
What is rape culture? It is conceptually used to describe a society whose culture allows for the normalizing and integration of rape and sexual assault into daily life. I’ve tried to answer for myself if I think American society meets the criteria of a rape culture, and I’m unequivocally pushed to say yes—pushed mainly by advertisements in print and on television, music, and humor from different types of friends (from men and women, young and old, of all backgrounds) I have that excuse, explain away, or make fun of those who rape, are raped, or who defend raped people.
Does this sound okay to you, educated reader in a college community? Likely not. And that might be just because you’re reading an opinion article about this. But is it okay at a party on a Friday night between young men? How is this polite, daytime representation of rape culture that I read about from any American news outlet any different from the often (but not always) “bro” humor I hear in my life? It might wear a Fox News mask, but it’s the same thing; in a culture where rape and sexual assault are so problematic in terms of legislation, the status quo is to avert the horror of it for someone else, to a sociological “other.” From underclassmen, upperclassmen, either in parties at Uppers or with my friends at rehearsal, even the most accepting kinds of environments I’m proud to be in allow for jokes and an unfair representation of victim blaming and deflecting responsibility from perpetrators.
It’s not like I don’t understand why people do this. When you start to look at rape culture, even if you don’t agree with what it’s called or why or how it is what it is, it’s horrifying. For me, it took radical feminist friends whom I took seriously, which can be hard to do, and a bit of reading to start to see connections between the actual act of rape and the jokes about it. Reading someone writing “kill all men” from a radical feminist perspective hurt, but I was taking the words literally when the message was this: nobody ever seriously wants to kill all men. But when twenty-something college students make jokes about how much of a slut a girl is because she dresses in a way that “tells” us that she likes having too much sex; this seems acceptable to joke about. This is what my feminist friends are calling American society out on, the tendency to trivialize the problems that women go through.
It’s rape culture. And people notice.
What’s so hard about allying myself with feminists and with openly opposing rape culture is not ideological. I’m right there with any feminist ally or feminist herself (or himself, if you’re open to believing that men can be feminists) in terms of what I see and believe. It’s the anger I feel that shakes me. I used to wonder why feminists seemed so angry when I was a young teenager. Now, I wonder how come more people aren’t enraged or, after so much activism, just completely exhausted with the fight. I’ve been fighting this fight for so short a time, and yet I’m already so tired of having to explain that yes, I am a man who allies himself with feminism and that, no, rape is never the victim’s fault or that yes, indeed, the statement “boys will be boys” is trivializing and deflecting blame from those who rape or sexually assault. Anybody can be a rapist, but why do women bear the brunt of the culture’s shame?
To come back to Steubenville, do you know how many news organizations have expressed (or have let viewers express) their concern for the two young boys’ futures, without any mention of that of the sixteen-year-old girl? Have you looked on Twitter to see how many Americans have tried to redefine rape as that which happens only when you’re sober? Have you seen how many people have called the victim a slut, a whore, or have claimed that she was “asking” for digital penetration because she was drinking? Having a conversation about rape culture is difficult, and it’s been perhaps the most difficult global and long-standing conversation I’ve entered into since getting into college. The two key things I’ve learned: nobody is going to educate you about rape culture—so many of those who are fighting it are too tired or jaded to think we’ll change your mind or behavior. Second, no matter what your belief is about a person’s experiences, being an ally to a victim is of utmost importance, not being funny at the expense of someone’s assault or shame. The awful reality about being either a victim or an ally is that, as it stands in contemporary America, you’ll have more chances than you could ever expect to be one.