For better or worse, rape culture has become an increasingly popular topic of conversation in both feminist and non-feminist circles alike. From politicians shooting themselves in the foot to survivors being empowered to speak about their experiences, conversations about sexual violence have pushed their way to the forefront of sociopolitical discourse.
Let me pause here to say that I define rape culture as a culture in which rape and sexual violence against oppressed and sexually-vulnerable people are systematically excused, tolerated, or condoned. One does not have to actually assault someone to perpetuate rape culture: one may contribute to rape culture by participating in victim blaming, by diminishing the importance of consent, by making or excusing "rape jokes," or simply by denying the existence of sexual oppression. Rape culture is also perpetuated by other kinds of attacks including sexual harassment and the use of sexually oppressive language.
I also wish to clarify that rape culture does not only affect women. Any number of oppressed people are likely to find themselves vulnerable to sexual attack at one point or another. Cis-women receive a large portion of attention in this area, but LGBTQ folks and incarcerated people are also highly vulnerable to being attacked or oppressed as a result of rape culture. And while heterosexual cis-men are occasionally assaulted by female attackers, patriarchy continues maintain the hierarchies that perpetuate the cycle of sexual violence, even when the assault is perpetrated by women.
That being said, this whole "nice guy non-rapist" thing has got to stop. On more than one occasion over the past week, I have been engaged in deep and respectful conversations about rape culture only to have the thread hijacked by some guy's pious remarks about his status as a "non-rapist."
One such incident was a Facebook thread where a person had inquired about the needs of assault survivors in health care. The original poster was a health care worker and wanted to know how she could provide respectful and compassionate care to folks with a history of sexual assault. A respondent replied by sharing her experience in detail: a survivor of an abusive relationship that included many instances of rape and emotional abuse, she spoke candidly about how she feels the health care system has failed her. Others came forth to offer support, sharing our own experiences about times we've felt violated in one way or another. The conversation was absolutely enlightening, respectful, and supportive. There was a sense of camaraderie and sisterhood even though many of us didn't know each other in real life. Then came the Hijacker.
"Can I just say I'm really happy to be a part of this conversation. I'm proud to say I'm not a rapist and I never will be. I don't understand how a guy could do that to someone." And just like that, the conversation was over. No one responded. No one continued to share.
It's difficult to navigate this kind of thing. On the one hand, wasn't he just offering his support? Wasn't he just vocalizing his appreciation that our conversation was happening? Wasn't he just, dare I say, being
nice?
I'm positive that these are things he thought he was doing, and in that respect it's very difficult to tell him not to do them. But whether the he knew it or not, his entry into the conversation was unwelcome. It hijacked a situation where people with shared experiences were listening to and learning from one another. It silenced us, and his claims of being "a part of this conversation" just added insult to injury. However, to tell him these things - to suggest he butt out - would likely be met with hostility, not to mention those cries of "I was just being nice" that fatigue me to no end.
And again, I don't doubt he felt he was doing a good thing by letting us know he supported us and had no intention of raping any of us. But you can't argue with results: these kinds of comments - whether it's a guy saying he's not a misogynist or a while person saying they're not racist - always bring conversations about oppression to a screeching halt. It violates the safe space that individuals with shared experiences have built for their own use. Not to mention, it smacks of masturbatory self-importance, a person's way of acknowledging that oppression exists while summarily excusing themselves of any way they might have contributed to it.
Now one could argue that this was Facebook, and doesn't everybody have the right to comment? This is true, however, just because you
can doesn't mean you
should. There is value in silencing yourself to make space for voices that are usually silenced. Those of us with a certain amount of privilege find this a difficult pill to swallow. We've known our entire lives that we have the right to free speech. We should speak our minds and anyone who tells us otherwise is violating our rights. But again, just because you can doesn't mean you should; you can make space for others to claim that same right simply by curbing your claim to it.
So the next question here is likely to be, if you shouldn't speak up in these conversations, what should you do?
Put simply, you should learn that you don't get a medal for not being an asshole. You should accept that you don't deserve thanks for being an ally, but rather see your desire to be an ally as a charge to never stop examining your role in the oppression of others. Most of all, however, you should shut up and listen. You should make space for other voices, and you should do so because it's the right thing to do, not because people will thank you for it (they won't).
But if you still have that desire to get rewarded for your valiant efforts at not being a rapist, I can offer you this:
