Life In a #MeToo World: To My Brothers

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.

Life In a #MeToo World: Part 2 - To My Sisters

In spite of my experiences growing up in a #MeToo culture, there was a time when I would have scoffed at the current movement.  However absurd that may sound, facing the narrative and its implications was fraught with risks and felt unsettling.  Any time our views of the world topple, forcing us to re-examine our foundational beliefs, we are left floundering in quicksand with no guarantee we will regain our footing before we are swallowed up.  It feels infinitely safer to  avoid that struggle...to pull ourselves up by the proverbial bootstraps and keep moving.  That's exactly what I did for decades.  By isolating each incident, I failed to view them as part of a narrative arc that revealed an unhealthy, potentially ominous, underlying cultural mindset.  The emergence of the recent movement made it impossible for me to ignore that any longer.

When we can no longer deny the reality, what do we do next?  Where do we go from here?  That depends on where we are in our journey.  Most of us likely fall into one of the following categories:  The Unscathed, The Reluctant, The Hurting, and The Crusaders.  Each carries unique risks and responsibilities.

To the Unscathed:

To those who have managed to navigate life apart from any personal #MeToo moments, I encourage you to be thankful.   You are likely traveling lighter than many of your sisters.

Our stories might make you feel uncomfortable, suspicious, or judgmental, but it's immensely helpful if you can remain ready to listen, believe, and support us.  Chances are, behind the stories we willingly share, lurk deeper stories we are not quite ready to unearth.  Receptive hearts increase the likelihood we will eventually confront our stories in a way that leads to healing and hope.  It's particularly disheartening to have our own kind dismiss our concerns.  We need you in our corner.

To the Reluctant:

To those who hesitate to share your stories, I understand.  But I encourage you to be brave.  

Perhaps you are reluctant because you fear being branded as fragile, overly-sensitive, or reactionary.  You may be rejected, belittled, disbelieved, or ridiculed.  You might even be labeled as guilty.  Worst of all, you might simply be ignored.

Perhaps you don't share because you pride yourself in your resilience.  I get that too.  While strength is an admirable quality, silence does nothing to illuminate and reshape the culture and may even, unwittingly, enable it.  

Perhaps your reluctance stems from the deeply personal nature of your story or a lingering sense of shame.  I believe there has never been a safer time to speak up.  Some very brave souls in very public cases have stormed the front lines and shouldered these same risks to pave the way for more of us to do the same.  

Shared stories create solidarity.  Solidarity cultivates courage.  Courage breeds action.  Action fuels reform.  For the sake of those  sisters whose hurts have been more significant than ours, or who don't have the internal reserves to power through, let's be brave together.  

To The Hurting:

To my sisters who have already faced (and maybe even shared) your stories but remain overwhelmed, confused, angry, weary, or downtrodden, I'm sorry.  Don't stop fighting!  This road can be long and arduous, but you've already demonstrated that you are strong enough to survive.  Let that same strength guide you through the grieving process toward healing.  I encourage you to seek out the stories of women who have found hope and new life on the other side and add your name to their ranks!  However long it takes, it's worth the effort.

To the Crusaders:

To those who are further down the road and working in any capacity to champion cultural reform, thank you.  I'm particularly thankful for those who, without minimizing the brokenness, refuse to advocate for reform by denigrating the male population.  Doing so might feel justified.  It might even  serve to shift the balance of power, but it won't bring about a better world.  They too inherited this culture and have, to varying degrees, been shaped by or contributed to it, wittingly or unwittingly.  Alienating them is counter-productive because genuine, lasting reform will require harmonious efforts to expose both blatant and subtle mindsets, to change our vocabulary, to transform our habits, and to foster deep-seated mutual respect.  We need our brothers on our side too!  

One exemplary figure from whom we can draw courage, is Rachael Denhollander, whose efforts recently thrust her into the public eye.  After years of intense behind-the-scenes work, repeated rejection, and in the midst of continued criticism, she stays the course.  Despite accusations that she is in it for money, despite losing friends along the way, and despite being told her status as a victim sullies her advocacy efforts, she remains articulate and unwavering in her calls for justice, as well as institutional and cultural reform. The righteous anger in her voice is unmistakable, yet she is a lighthouse of grace.  Her harshest words are reserved for those in positions of authority who have created and continue to defend systems that have birthed and nurtured the conditions that allow #MeToo behavior to flourish.  She derives her resilience largely from her determination to create a safer world for women and girls.    

Imagine with me what might be if we persist.  If we refuse to give up.  If we channel our collective energy toward healing the brokenness.  As Rachael has so poignantly stated, the lives of all the little girls coming after us, are worth it.

Life In A #MeToo World: Part 1 - One Woman's Experience

Her mother, at age 4, was sexually abused by a relative.

Her innocent 7 and 8-year-old sisters encountered an exhibitionist neighbor who exposed himself to them while they were riding bikes in the neighborhood.

Her 11-year-old sister was approached by a pedophile who pulled his car up to their house under the guise of asking for help while exposing and stimulating himself.

Her 5th grade friend was sexually assaulted by a third friend's father while the three spent the night in his home.

Her intellectually disabled aunt was sexually abused as a teen by one of her trusted primary care givers.

Her 16-year-old sister was pursued and propositioned by a trusted youth pastor.

Her teenaged friends and acquaintances - well over a dozen of them - were pursued, propositioned, and abused by this same youth pastor who retained his position of authority.

Her high school Bible teacher sexually abused multiple co-students.

Her pastor sensually massaged her shoulders while teaching her how to develop film in a darkroom at age 13.

Her boss forced her against the wall and pressed his middle-aged body into hers while praising her 21-year-old figure.

Her roommate was raped and murdered in their shared home.

Her friend and co-worker was assaulted and raped in the safety of her own home just two weeks later.

All before her 25th birthday.

She doesn’t yet talk publicly about the second 25 years in order to protect those who aren’t ready for exposure, but abuses of sexuality and authority have remained a consistent thread in her narrative.  As you might imagine, she sometimes finds living and loving in that world a wearisome task. When her struggles appear to me to be unnecessarily prolonged, I step back and see the slow-growing good that signals light, and growth, and  glory, and transformation and know that even her small victories are hard won mercies.

She trusts slowly, but continues to engage the world around her.  

She is a fortress of defense mechanisms, yet labors to be vulnerable. 

She tirelessly uproots bitterness so it will not choke out beauty in the garden of her heart. 

She is predisposed to fight but desires to be gentle.

She expends a great deal of energy taming her pervasive cynicism with intentional gratitude.

She appears tough and strong and self-sufficient, but mostly to guard the underlying fragility.

She fiercely longs for that day when “everything sad will come untrue.”

In the meantime, she strives to shed light in the dark spaces and be a conduit for healing and hope for the vulnerable.

I know this about her...

Because She is Me.

Faces on a Sunday Morning

Faces on a Sunday Morning II.

by: Lori Waggoner

Near-hearty laughter escapes involuntary,

Contradicting sorrow-laden eyes.