Part 3 in a series. For context: Part 1: One Woman's Experience, and Part 2: To My Sisters
You, my Brothers, are
under fire. Probably from multiple angles, depending on how many of these
descriptors apply to you: straight, white, American, wealthy, Christian. You
might be assumed to be a homophobic, racist, xenophobic, intolerant, misogynist
seeking to actively oppress...merely by belonging to any of those categories.
That, of course, is unjust. It's tiring to have the worst possible motives
assigned to you at every turn and is therefore NOT my intent to pile on or bash
you, individually or collectively, for your maleness. The fact that you are a
man does not make you The Enemy.
At the same time, we
would all be foolish to deny that the current heightened conversation around
privilege and power, specifically as embodied in the #MeToo movement, has risen
out of and is legitimized by the negative life experiences of countless women,
and cannot be ignored. This volatile, hyper-sensitized "new world"
likely feels unsettling and unfamiliar. You may not know how to navigate it,
but discomfort and uncertainty are the perpetual companions of change and we
desperately need change. The reality is that the women of the #MeToo movement
as a whole, gain nothing from turning the tables and demoralizing or minimizing
you. That doesn't mean some won't try to do that, but many of us have fathers,
husbands, sons, and male friends we care deeply about, and are not out to
destroy men. You are not only a necessary agent in fostering the change we
seek, but you may be our most crucial ally. We need you.
Because I also fit
some of the descriptors above (white, American, Christian), I too have
experienced how difficult it can be to hear...I mean REALLY hear...narratives
other than my own and which my own experiences seem to invalidate. It's
uncomfortable. Unnerving even. Those narratives usually come from someone who
is wholly "other" - other race, other nationality, other gender,
other generation, other social strata, other belief system - and otherness can
be hard to access in meaningful ways. That "otherness" springs from
disparate experiences which have shaped our view of and our way of being in the
world. We operate inside belief systems and cultures that are so familiar to us
that we DON"T EVEN RECOGNIZE how our beliefs, words, attitudes, and
actions can hurt others. We acclimate to what we know and become blind to the
ways our system diminishes, ignores, silences, or even denigrates the voices of
those who cry out against it. Is it even possible to step outside of our norms
to hear, see, and understand the other? I believe it is, but not without great
effort and intentionality.
What can you as a man
do? Have you been put in a no-win situation? I don't think so. Here's how you
might begin:
Learn to Listen
Entering into
another's perspective starts by hearing them. Only through listening, WITHOUT
DEFENDING MYSELF OR A SYSTEM THAT IS SAID TO FAVOR ME, and listening again, and
listening again, until I hear and feel what
my brother or sister feels will I begin to understand the need for change. I
encourage you to hold back your urge to defend, counter-attack, or dismiss.
Instead:
- Meditate on the
stories and quotes of those with whom you disagree.
- Check your
instinct to ignore stories that elicit an immediate "that can't be
true" or "that's a mischaracterization" or "that's
hyperbolic" from your heart or mouth.
- Remind yourself
that just because you would never do such a thing, doesn't mean no man
would or hasn't. Remind yourself that many likable, highly-regarded men
have proven to be unapologetic scoundrels.
- Pay special
attention to those whose narratives make you squirm. In that place where
you don't WANT to listen, is the place your ears can be trained to really
hear.
- Resist the
temptation to latch onto narratives of women who deny a problem exists and
then claim it as the only possible truth ("aha!...here is a
REASONABLE woman who should be listened to!") merely because her
perspective coincides with your own. As I pointed out in a prior post, our
reasons for doing so can be various and potentially complex (mine
certainly were). The fact that some women have either not experienced any
abusive behavior from men, or have denied, suppressed, or overcome it,
does not nullify the grief of countless women who have been abused,
rejected, oppressed, put out, silenced, dehumanized, or otherwise poorly
served by the prevailing culture.
Labor to Understand
Rather than lament
your cause, embrace the opportunity at hand. You have the chance, perhaps for
the first time ever, to personally and collectively experience what it means to
be oppressed. Do you realize that the current cries of "everything we do
now is scrutinized and misinterpreted" or "we can't even exist in the
world without accusation and assumption of guilt" or "my motives are
assumed and questioned at every turn" are cries of
"voicelessness" and a primary defining experience of the oppressed?
Being disregarded, mocked, caricatured, and silenced are chains which women of
the #MeToo movement are striving to break. You are being handed a golden
opportunity to CREATE THE MOST GOOD out of this difficult moment by genuinely
UNDERSTANDING what it means to be innocent and have aspersion cast on you.
Seize the opportunity to learn the beautiful painful lesson of deep-seated
empathy by entering into others' experiences of oppression. Use this
opportunity to gain the wisdom that comes from being pushed down.
Look in The Mirror
Are you innocent?
Perhaps. Even if you have no egregious violations of women in your history, I
encourage you to examine your own heart for previously unrecognized beliefs,
perspectives, attitudes, or assumptions, that minimize, objectify, trivialize,
utilitize, or otherwise overtly or subtly leave (or put) women "in their
place." Be brave enough to topple the status quo. Shine light in every
corner to expose dark deeds and don't refuse to acknowledge what you find.
Labor to recognize the ways personal attitudes and institutional systems have
intentionally or inadvertently fostered conditions that have allowed so many
misdeeds to thrive.
Live in Love
A life of love moves
beyond listening, learning, and looking in the mirror. A relentless underlying
desire for healing and peace and reconciliation demands more. In the same way
my black brothers and sisters need me (because I am not black) to
help break the bonds of systemic injustice; just as refugees need me (because I
am not displaced) to help break the bonds of exile; my sisters all around the
world and I need our Brothers (because you are not women) to help
break our bonds.
This is exceedingly
difficult as it requires sustained attention, dismantling of assumptions, an
endless well of empathy, and the desire, will, and energy to change. It is
wearying, and sometimes feels impossible. But I don't believe it IS.
At this moment in
history, the greater burden is on you, Brothers. And I believe many of you are
up for the challenge. I believe we can move toward each other with wisdom and
genuine care so that we can all move toward that place of shalom we long for.
1 comment:
The greater burden is ours, and I believe men should hold themselves first and foremost accountable to the highest virtues and standards of excellence. And not just because we've caused the situation in which we now find ourselves embroiled. But I wonder if the same counsel you so eloquently laid out above is perceived by others (non-white, non-male, non-Christian, non-American) as being equally applicable to them. Anyone, regardless of ethnicity, sex, age, religious affiliation, et al., willing to abide by this counsel, will find themselves both a part of the problem and a part of the solution. Everyone has suffered injustice, whether systemic or not. The real question is whether we are all willing to treat others justly. I'm not sure there can be healing without it.
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