Showing posts with label street harassment. Show all posts
Showing posts with label street harassment. Show all posts

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Free Choices

The Innocent Smith Journal recently featured a couple of thought-provoking pieces discussing choices, as they relate to Muslim women who choose to wear a hijab, burqa, or niqab, and how those choices may influence how women are perceived in general worldwide. A further discussion ensued in the comment thread about whether the choice to wear a hijab, burqa, or niqab is really a free choice. The first post was in response to the recent criticism the creators of South Park faced in their decision to censor the image of the Prophet Mohammed in a recent episode, and Bill Maher's reaction to the ordeal:


Before I conclude, it should in fairness be noted that, in speaking of Muslims, we realize that, of course, the vast majority are law-abiding, loving people, who just want to be left alone to subjugate their women in peace.



InnocentSmith responds:


Notice that the punchline (Muslims just want to “subjugate their women in peace”) undercuts the distinction Maher purports to make between the “vast majority” of Muslims and Muslim extremists. Not only are most Muslims are just as wacko as the violent fringe, Maher insinuates, it would be laughable to think otherwise.



While InnocentSmith approaches the controversial topic of Islamic culture promoting the subjugation of women with a great deal of respect and tolerance for a topic so widely misunderstood in Western culture, a few questions remain. As I asked in the discussion thread:


...Of course the “regular” Muslims aren’t the same as jihadists; the remark, though, applies to most practicing Muslims. The idea that a woman should be more modest that a man, for example, is, quite simply, perpetuating misogyny.



Do most Muslim women wear a hijab, or more? I'm not sure; I admit to having only a basic understanding of Islamic cultures, and as a non-Muslim, I can hardly claim to speak on behalf of Muslim women. But as far as making the choice to cover oneself in a way that is dictated only to women, I remain unconvinced of the insistence that to do so is a free choice that is without misogynistic influence.

A simple Google search will yield many convincing arguments made by Muslim women for why wearing a hijab, or even a burqa, is less oppressive than the expectation that women in Western cultures wear clothing that is considered sexually attractive to most men. In a poem titled Object of Despair, Fahim Firfiray (Abu Omar), in observing the differences between her Muslim character, Aisha, and a non-Muslim fellow attorney, Emma, in regards to their attire, writes from her colleague Emma's perspective:


Aisha is in full hijab
With a loose all over suit
Emma's in her business wear
With accessories taboot

Emma's really quite bemused
At Aisha's godly ways
She looks Aisha in the eyes
And very firmly says

You're a smart girl Aisha
Why do you wear that across your hair?
Subjugated by "man"-kind
An object of despair

Take it off my sister
Let your banner be unfurled
Don't blindly follow all around
DECLARE YOUR FREEDOM TO THE WORLD



It's an oft-cited argument that many associate with Western feminism: To cover yourself is to be oppressed, censored, enslaved. The objection to hiding ones hair seems particularly reminiscent of the Spice Girls days-- embrace your femininity! Short skirts and tall shoes and long hair! Be smart, powerful, and sexy!

While embracing this particular brand of femininity can be empowering for many women who feel oppressed by the implications of such an image (for example, the perceived invitation to men to give sexual attention to the woman), it's problematic on a number of levels, and the argument Firfiray gave her Western character was too one-dimensional and half-hearted to take seriously.

Firfiray continues with Aisha's response:


My dear sister Emma,
Why do you dress the way you do?
The skirt you're wearing round your waist,
Is it really you?

Now that we've sat down,
I see you tug it across your thighs,
Do you feel ashamed?
Aware of prying eyes?

I see the way you're sitting,
Both legs joined at the knees,
Who forces you to sit like that?
Do you feel at ease?

I'll tell you who obliges you,
To dress the way you do,
Gucci, Klein and St. Laurent,
All have designs on you!

In the main, it's men my friend,
Who dictate the whims of fashion,
Generating all the garb,
To incite the basest passion

"Sex Sells" there is no doubt,
But who buys with such great haste,
The answer is the likes of you,
Because they want to be embraced......

They want to be accepted,
On a level playing field
Sure, with brain and intellect
But with body parts revealed

Intelligence and reason
Are useful by and by
But if you want to make a mark
Stay appealing to the eye



Aisha's almost got me here. After all, who could argue that looking "sexy" is always in the back of our minds, as women? Who would disagree that isn't always the most comfortable feeling? I certainly couldn't counter the point that men who are given the opportunity to see more of my body than I see of theirs are less likely to take me seriously as a business associate or social equal. The possibility of eliminating that possibility is, admittedly, very appealing.

Via a later article on the Innocent Smith Journal, a Muslim woman discusses how she found relief in her decision to wear a niqab to work:


“I do this because I want to be closer to God, I want to please him and I want to live a modest lifestyle,” said Ms. Ahmed, who asked that her appearance without a veil not be described. “I want to be tested in that way. The niqab is a constant reminder to do the right thing. It’s God-consciousness in my face.”


But there were secular motivations, too. In her job, she worked with all-male teams on oil rigs and in labs.

“No matter how smart I was, I wasn’t getting the respect I wanted,” she said. “They still hit on me, made crude remarks and even smacked me on the butt a couple times.”

Wearing the niqab is “liberating,” she said. “They have to deal with my brain because I don’t give them any other choice.”



The absence of leers, gropes, and harassment that followed Ms. Ahmed's decision to wear a niqab undoubtedly brings with it a feeling of liberation and empowerment. But should it? And was her decision to wear a niqab really influenced in any way by "secularism," or could we be more honest in calling the motivation "sexism"?

This sentiment, the one about how empowering it feels to hide your face and body under layers of cloth so that predatory men don't sexually harass and assault you, is a temporary solution to a huge and systemic problem. Women everywhere are consistently told that they are responsible for the harassment they encounter, sexual assault, and even their own rapes. More often than not, women's clothing choices are the basis for these accusations.

Several months ago, Thúy-Lan Võ Lite from Equal Writes wrote a piece for Feministe about India's new female-only traincars, called Ladies Specials, a new option for women who want to avoid the rampant sexual harassment, leering, and groping that they regularly fall victim to on their daily commutes. While, like Ms. Ahmed's situation, the separate train cars are a good temporary solution to the rampant sexual harassment and assault that occurs daily on public transportation all over the world, Thúy-Lan succinctly concludes:


...It’s great that these trains are giving women a safe space. But it’s also important to note that the Ladies Specials are only a temporary solution; for real social change to occur, something must be done to stop the catcalling men.



Indeed, it must. It's time we stop making women responsible for their own oppression, and start holding harassers and abusers accountable for their oppressive behavior. If a Muslim woman wants to wear a niqab, the reasons shouldn't have to include finally feeling like she's able to be respected because men are prevented from seeing her face and body. For a Muslim woman to take into consideration the sense of entitlement these men feel toward women's bodies takes the freedom from that choice.

Monday, October 26, 2009

Random thoughts about where I live

I live in Minneapolis, Minnesota.   It's taken me awhile, but I love it here. Everything that I need or want in my daily life can be found in Minneapolis, and best of all, I don't need to drive to get to any of it.

Driving, and the ability to choose not to do it, is a big deal to me. Like most people of my generation, I have been a licensed driver since I was 16. I easily accepted that in order to get to work and go out and visit friends and family, I needed to drive everywhere. I needed to pay a car payment, I needed to get insurance, and I needed to make sure I had gas money. I was used to the idea that my car could break down at any time and I'd need to come up with yet more money to fix it.

Jesse, my boyfriend (whom I live with), has a car, but I never replaced my 5th car when the transmission finally died. I didn't feel the need to: my job provides a deeply discounted MetroPass, which allows unlimited use of all public transportation, and deducts the $20 automatically from each paycheck. I don't even notice the deduction. Since I live in Minneapolis, work in Minneapolis, and my social life is in Minneapolis, I rarely drive anywhere. I use my MetroPass to get nearly everywhere and save driving for going to my mom's house, which is about 20 miles away in a northern suburb.

Just this summer, Jesse and I decided to get bikes. It only made sense, as everyone we knew commuted by bicycle regularly, and according to Wikipedia, Minneapolis has the 2nd largest population of bicycle commuters. Bike trails are all over and the city is, for the most part, impressively bike-friendly.

The other day, Jesse and I needed to go to St. Louis Park, a nearby suburb of Minneapolis. He asked me to drive because he was having knee problems. I drove approximately 3 blocks, and Jesse asked me to pull over and switch places with him. I guess driving is not like riding a bike; I do not know how to do it well at all anymore. I'm also paranoid behind the wheel, especially on freeways. It's gotten so bad that when we go to my mom's, Jesse drives (the majority of the commute is via freeway) and I cover my eyes with my hands.

Becoming a cyclist (or, trying to) has been a fun adventure. It's getting a bit too cold for my comfort now, so I'm back to the bus, but hopefully I'll get braver as I get more used to it. I still go out of my way to find a bike lane and freak out about traffic, but I'm slowly growing more comfortable with being on the road.

...Which brings me to my larger point. Since buying a bike, I have begun to absolutely loathe my neighborhood. There is an odd lack of awareness of bicycle laws and rights on this side of the river, and I don't know what to do about it. I am supposed to ride in the street, but no one in their cars believe this to be true, and as a result, they taunt me and swerve too close to me and honk. In addition to this, I cannot ride the 5 blocks to the grocery store by myself without being harassed and threatened. It's incredibly frustrating, and it makes me ride my bike less often than I would otherwise. Even leaving the neighborhood to get into more bike-friendly areas is panic-inducing. I realize that I am often more paranoid than most people, but the fear is there when it shouldn't be.

The neighborhood I live in now is fairly new to me. Jesse and I moved there in August with his younger brother, into the upper unit of a large duplex owned by a married couple that Jesse knows fairly well. Downstairs is a good friend of Jesse and his brother's. It's a great setup; basically we live in a miniature dorm, only it's actually giant and newly remodeled and spacious. We can hang out with our neighbor, everyone has privacy if they want it. The only problem is the neighborhood.

It's not a safe area for anyone. No one in the house is willing to walk around alone at night, and the only place that delivers to us is Pizza Hut, which is conveniently located two blocks away, but it's no one's favorite. Before we moved, our downstairs neighbor warned us to be careful when pulling into the driveway through the alley, because sometimes people would be loitering in the alley and they would mug you.

We haven't run into any problems parking in out own driveway, but the warning was surprising.

As a result of buying a bicycle and hating my neighborhood, I have found myself wanting to move to Uptown. This is a rather embarrassing thing to admit, though, as I always used to make fun of Uptown residents and the people who hang out there. I mean, it's always so fun and easy to make fun of self-righteous hipsters and self-described punks.

Prior to recent developments, Uptown was a place for young artists, musicians, and the like. It was defined as a trendy place to live for young hipsters and artists and had a slew of independent restaurants, coffee shops, and other businesses. In the past few years, though, Uptown has changed dramatically. If you read the Wikipedia link provided, scroll down and read what they have to say about recent gentrification and the Uptown artists relocating to Northeast Minneapolis. Uptown is now where young, wealthy professions live. In other words, yuppies in condos.

Now, I am not necessarily complaining about the "yuppiness" (although I'm not going to try and tackle gentrification in this post). I am not really old enough (or cool enough, some might say) to truly remember Uptown fondly for what it used to be. I hung out in Uptown occasionally, to go to various bars or restaurants or live shows, but I was not immersed in the culture. Most of my going-out activities were located in Downtown Minneapolis. I spend more time in Uptown now than I did in years past because more of my friends and acquaintances live here these days. This means that the majority of the time, I am actually hanging out at people's houses or apartments, during the day, and not just bar-hopping. I have also made the journey into Uptown on my bike. Uptown is much, much more bike-friendly than my current neighborhood. In fact, it's preferred, as driving and parking in Uptown is unbelievably frustrating for a person like me, if not nearly impossible.

I also feel a bit of apprehension at admitting that the reason I want to move to Uptown is because of how much I dislike my current neighborhood. Where I live is a predominantly black neighborhood, and it's very easy to cross the line between wanting to feel safer in one's neighborhood to disliking the fact that people of color outnumber you, whether you mean to or not.

I asked Jesse the other day how he perceived what I was saying, and my intent, when I expressed my dislike for our current neighborhood. He understood that I did not want to leave because I don't like that the neighborhood is predominantly black, but because I'd rather be in an area that better accommodates my own lifestyle. That is, bike-friendly areas, locally-owned independent coffee shops and restaurants, local food co-ops and art fairs. I'd rather be in an area where I can ride my bike to the local grocery store and not get verbally harassed and threatened in the 5 blocks it takes to get there. Whether it was because I'm white, a woman, or just the next person to ride a bike down the middle of the street, I'm not sure, but no one should have to feel threatened simply running an errand in their neighborhood. It's frustrating, and it makes me feel resentful and afraid. I'm not used to not being able to walk around as I see fit, when I want. What's more frustrating is that I knew this before moving. I knew that I'd be sacrificing personal freedoms in order to live in a huge, remodeled house with awesome landlords and a familiar neighbor. And I thought I'd be fine with it.

I'm so afraid that I'll be judged as a racist for wanting to move from my predominantly black neighborhood into a predominantly white neighborhood that it took me a long time to even mention it to Jesse. I don't know why; I am clearly not moving because of the color of my neighbors' skin, but because of my distaste for not feeling like I can have as much freedom as I would like. But it's hard to discuss things like this with anyone when I read blogs like Feministe and Womanist Musings, where criticizing anything that can be associated with any oppressed group of people is almost always interpreted as an "-ist" action. I know my reasons for wanting to move aren't racist, and I shouldn't need validation, but I did, and I do. It's why I asked Jesse immediately if he thought I was racist. Now, Jesse's white and while he is a rational, reasonable and progressively-minded person, a person of color would obviously be a better judge of what is and is not racist against them, but it's not like I can just go up to the next person of color that I see and ask them if they think that my desire to move to Uptown is a racist one.

Well, I guess that ultimately, I know my own intentions better than anyone else. And it's certainly not like my moving would hurt anyone's feelings. And anyway, I'm here until August, at the very least, so... yeah. I'd better get used to it, I suppose.

In the meantime, biking, bussing, or even -- heaven forbid -- driving to Uptown and sitting at a coffee shop while I type at the internet isn't so bad. Incidentally, I think I've found a new favorite place to hang out.