Rape: Deepening our Understanding.

Have you ever asked yourself what actually happens during rape? As a society, we tend to gloss over this. We skirt around the finer details and the points which are harder to stomach, and we lessen our own understanding of the issue, as well as the understanding of those in generations to come. I recently attended an extensive talk on the issue of rape, and I’ve decided to share some of the knowledge I gained as a result. NB: One of the things I discovered was that avoiding terminology is regressive and unhelpful, so prepare for some appropriately graphic descriptions.

As a basic clarification, 

Under section 1(1) of the Sexual Offenses Act 2003 a defendant, A, is guilty of rape if:

_ A intentionally penetrates the vagina, anus or mouth of B (the complainant) with his penis;
_ B does not consent to the penetration; and,
_ A does not reasonably believe that B consents

This means that rape is a crime committed by men, against women or other men (mostly the former). Sexual offences committed by women are not included in the definition of rape, but carry the same sentencing and are treated in the same way.


What Actually Happens During Rape?

Though every rape experience is different; every victim is different, there are some common factors. Physically, someone is being forced to do something they do not consent to. The body of the victim will sometimes react as if this is the case, making penile penetration in the vagina, anus or mouth painful and difficult. Sometimes, parts of the body will react to being stimulated in a way which seems desirable in consensual sex (i.e. lubrication), which can be incredibly confusing for the victim; it’s essentially seen as a betrayal by the body of the mind. A common response for the whole body is what’s known as “freezing” - fairly self explanatory. The sympathetic nervous system creates an adrenalin rush- telling the body to fight back or run, but this is counteracted by the parasympathetic nervous system, which creates a neuron to calm the nervous system and tells the body to relax. Any extreme case of shock, fear and trauma often results in both of these bodily reactions working in opposition to each other and the victim then being unable to move at all. It is this reaction which often later causes Post Traumatic Stress Disorder in survivors of rape. The body can’t remain in this state for long, though, and another common reaction is to then “flop”. This occurs if and when the “freeze” mechanism fails, and is one way that the body’s survival instinct manifests itself. If the threat to the victim’s safety still exists, or increases, the body is aware that any impact will cause less damage if the muscle tension is lowered and the body is limp. The parasympathetic overwhelms the sympathetic, and the victim flops. The body may experience the “fight or flight” impulse, but the question remains of whether they will do so if the attacker has been violent and/or threatening towards them prior to the assault, or simply whether they believe they are able to escape. A vitally important thing to remember about rape is that it is defined legally as “sex without reasonable belief in consent”. One of most damaging myths surrounding this issue is the idea that no consent equals the victim doing everything within their usual physical power to stop someone from violating them. The responses outlined above illustrate why this would be anything but a normal situation, and why people often are physically incapable of retaliation or escape. Emotionally and mentally, any range of things could be running through someone’s head before, during and after rape. Fear, distress, confusion, guilt and numbness are all common feelings, but shame is one which is often present and incredibly dominant. Shame is often caused by a large combination of factors, for example the way the rapist has spoken to and treated them, their own personal feelings towards sexual assault and, essentially, the attitude of society and the media towards it. The media response and coverage is something I’ll later go into detail about, but the point worth making here is that the depth and pervasiveness of shame as an emotion can be completely overwhelming and inescapable for survivors; not to mention its capacity to hinder recovery.

Rape is Not About Sex (in the way we tend to assume)

In order to really deepen our understanding of rape and rapists we, as a society, need to fully realise this statement. Another of the incredibly entrenched myths about this crime is that it’s caused by an unstoppable, desperate sexual desire. The claim that libido is to blame for rape is completely false. Rapists achieve sexual satisfaction as a result of exercising power and control over their victim’s bodies. This is why, as difficult as it is for us to accept, it doesn’t matter how the victim is dressed, how intoxicated they may be or where they are walking late at night; a rapist plans their attack long before they have sight of the person they choose to rape. This is why we must challenge the attitude of it being women’s responsibility to minimise the risk of an attack by being more conscious and selective of their attire, location, alcohol consumption etc; it’s not simply offensive, it will not work. It does not work. It can not work. This is evident in the fact that the vast majority of survivors were attacked by someone previously known to them- whether that be a past or present partner, a family member or simply a friend or acquaintance. The cause behind our reluctance to accept this fact is obvious: it means accepting that we are powerless. It means knowing that the only way to stop rape is by stopping rapists; by completely re-assessing society’s attitudes towards; sexual violence; victims of sexual violence (male and female); perpetrators of sexual violence; women in general; men in general. Wearing a less revealing outfit seems more achievable, really, doesn’t it? Another example of how rape is about the thrill of dominance and “conquering” lies within the fact that most men who have been raped were attacked by men. Heterosexual men, that is. Heterosexual men raping, usually, heterosexual men. That’s one to wrap your head around. Another issue to give some thought to is the prominence of rape in cultures where women typically wear niqabs or burqas. The idea of men being unstoppably, uncontrollably aroused at the sight of a woman in a short skirt is simply not, in the vast majority of cases, how rape happens. This myth, which applies specifically to male attackers and female victims, is one which is incredibly damaging to men in general- it paints a picture of them as moronic slaves to their sexual impulses which, all jokes aside, just is not correct.

The Legal Definition and its Impact

This is of fundamental importance. Developments have undoubtedly been made during the last decade in terms of rape trials, which are particularly traumatising for the victim. For one thing, the defence is no longer permitted to use the sexual history of the accuser as evidence against them- perhaps because it was realised that the frequency of one’s sexual encounters do not correlate with one’s propensity to lie about said sexual encounters and the absence of their own consent. The Sexual Offences Act referenced at the beginning of this blog repealed almost all of the existing statute law in relation to sexual offences in order to bring it up to date. The process of reporting this kind of offence, though, is still gut wrenchingly difficult. It’s important to bear in mind the deep feelings of violation, distrust, fear and shame which any victim of rape is likely to experience. This makes reporting such a crime a terrifying ordeal, and the invasive medical assessment which is required in order to obtain sufficient evidence is one of many things which are likely to hugely exacerbate the issues faced by the victim. It’s extremely difficult to convince an entire jury beyond reasonable doubt that someone has committed rape, particularly because of the myths and misconceptions about sexual abuse which exist so prominently in our society. There is hope, though, that these can be dispelled. During a recent trial made public due to the sex offender’s footballer status, the crown prosecutor for Wales is quoted as saying “It is a myth that being vulnerable through alcohol consumption means that a victim is somehow responsible for being raped. The law is clear: being vulnerable through drink or drugs does not imply consent”. This is simple a reiteration of the laws surrounding consent, but it is a common belief that if a rape victim is drunk they are, to some extent, responsible for the crime perpetrated against them. If the attacker is under the influence, however, it’s likely to work in their favour because it’s suggested by the defence that they weren’t in control of their actions, and didn’t realise the gravity of them. 

However, this is far from an ideal case. It is incredibly difficult for someone to be convicted of rape. Obviously, it requires convincing an entire jury beyond any reasonable doubt that the accused had non-consensual sex with the victim, and obviously, this is the same process as with any other crime- except than that it’s much more difficult to obtain substantial evidence of rape. It’s like to be significantly easier if the victim reports the offence quickly, having taken the necessary precautions (i.e. not washing their clothes, hair or body in order to preserve physical evidence). Bearing in mind how a victim is likely to be feeling after the assault though, it doesn’t take a genius to understand many people’s reluctance to stride up to a police station and undergo an incredibly invasive physical examination. Not to mention the fact that many may not even be aware of the fact that they need to carry out the above mentioned preservation measures and as a result will compromise their evidence. Bearing these things in mind, you can be fairly assured that any trial resulting in a conviction was one which involved an overwhelming amount of evidence against the accused. So, presumably, the victim in this very public case did everything correctly during her allegation, and had a very strong case overall. Whilst there is plenty of public condemnation of Ched Evans, now found guilty of raping a teenager and sentenced to five years jail time, it’s been somewhat compromised by the disgusting treatment of his victim. For the last week, Twitter has been crawling with comments from those who find Mr Evan’s conviction to be entirely unfair. Indeed, how dare this nineteen year old make such an unnecessary fuss over his attack upon her, and “destroy” his promising career by holding him responsible. Many critics of Mr Evans’ victim believe her not simply to be a “drunken slut”, though it is a popular comment, but moreover she is accused of being a “liar” and bizarrely “money-grabbing” or “fame hungry”. It’s worth noting that this woman remained anonymous prior to a teammate of Evans revealing her name within an abusive tweet, which was subsequently shown accidentally by Sky News. There is an overwhelming sentiment which many of these comments share, and that is that if a woman is drunk, she is responsible. Though Nita Dowell’s comment simply echoes the legal stance on rape and consent, this seems to be one which few are supportive of. Surely the idea that a woman surrenders any of her rights after she consumes her alcohol is equally repugnant to all of us? Here’s the deal: if a woman is falling over drunk, seen staggering around a hotel lobby (being led in this case by our honourable and relatively sober footballer, and Ched Evans’ companion), she is not in a position to consent to sex. If you have any respect for that human being, whatsoever; any decency; any kindness, you do not convince, coerce or force her to engage in an act she is probably physically incapable of stopping. This is something we need desperately need to deepen our understanding of. This idea spreads to consent within a relationship- “if they’ve consented before, it can’t have been rape”- needless to say, this is false. There is absolutely nothing a person can do which in any way, to any extent justifies, explains or excuses sexual assault. It is the responsibility of both parties in a sexual encounter to establish whether they both have consent: it is not a difficult thing to establish. A rapist knows exactly what they are doing, although perhaps some do not know the degree to which it will go on to affect the lives and relationships of their victims.

The Media

The media reporting on this issue is shockingly poor. This is something I’ve always been aware of but, to be honest, have paid little attention to until my attention was brought to it at the session I recently attended. It is so hard to find good reporting on rape- this is not “good reporting” in the sense of reporting which immediately sympathises with the victim over the accused, it’s good reporting which does not employ any of the subtle (or not so subtle) tactics with which the culture of victim blaming is validated and perpetuated. Daily Mail (now the most visited news website in the world) publishes story upon story demonising those who accuse people of rape- “crying rape”- being their apparently buzz-phrase. Here are some examples. This phrase is damaging in itself, considering the connotations of childishness and the resulting trivialisation of the issue. Articles are littered with phrases and attitudes which sustain this perception of rape, and reinforce the idea that only the situations envisaged within them are valid and worthy of our attention. It’s the familiar image of a woman being jumped in an alleyway, which we’ve all associated with sexual assault at one point or another. This is an important myth to dispel, because it’s simply not what happens in the majority of rape cases, and- more to the point- no assault is any more traumatic during or after the event simply because a) their attacker was a stranger, b) they were sober and so on.

Occasionally, the media does entertain the idea that the problem might in fact be rapists, but it does this by depicting them as “inhuman” ; “monsters”, i.e. not regular people you see on the street from day to day; not our fathers, friends or brothers; not people existing comfortably within our society but something entirely detached.  Again this is regressive, because it results in our subconscious belief that not only can we take measures which effectively lower our risk of rape, but that we will be able to immediately identify a rapist. We can’t. Musa Okwonga wrote a brilliant piece which covers this issue and many others surrounding the public response to the Ched Evans case here.


Undeniably, strides have been made in recent years in order to bring attention to this issue and better accommodate victims within the legal/judicial system. Perhaps most essentially, the Sexual Offences Act of 2003, which you can read about in detail here. The conviction rate has increased, but the real issue is the attrition rate and the rate of reporting (tonnes of interesting stuff about this and related issues in The Stern Review). If we do not try to better understand rape itself, as well as the victims and the rapists, we cannot expect any improvement in those two things. If we do not address the victim blaming culture so very present in our media and our society as a whole, the rate of people being raped will continue to increase, and rapists will not be held accountable for their actions. We need to open up the discussion of rape to do this. We need to create dialogues in education, in the home, anywhere possible. We need to start with boys, and teach them that it is their responsibility to be sure that they have consent before engaging in sex. We need to realise what the legal definition of this means, and just how prevalent rape is here in the UK and worldwide. We need to appreciate just how it affects so many people so deeply, and why. We need to tackle the issue of inadequate and downright poor journalism on the topic. We need to challenge the myths and misconceptions surrounding rape and challenge the feelings of shame, guilt and self-blame suffered so extremely by victims. We need to offer our support to those people and to the organisations and services which many of them so desperately rely upon. And we absolutely can.

ahh yes, shall we all take lessons from Mr Hefner on respect for women? 

ahh yes, shall we all take lessons from Mr Hefner on respect for women? 

(Source: hall-mark, via thebeesthighs)

shewasoctober:

This made me happy.

shewasoctober:

This made me happy.

(Source: inherhipstheresrevolutions)

It is the height of irony that women are valued for our looks, encouraged to make ourselves beautiful and ornamental and are then derided as shallow and vain for doing so.
— 
Greta Christina (via fleurdelalune)

(Source: freethoughtblogs.com, via feminismfreedomfighters)

picture didn’t work on that bloody gargantuan post, did it?

picture didn’t work on that bloody gargantuan post, did it?

“I am continually moved to discover I have sisters. I am beginning, just beginning, to find out who I am.”

That’s one of my favourite feminist quotes, courtesy of the wonderful Gloria Steinem (the only person I’ve ever sent full on fan mail- unashamedly, at that).

Today the hour finally came for Friends House in Euston to accommodate an ever-growing influx of excitable and impassioned feminists. Hello, Feminista 2011.

Today’s conference had a tremendous atmosphere. In my opinion this was due to the fact that the speakers, on the whole, balanced the severity and weight of women’s issues today with positive attitudes and practical ideas with regard to future progression. 

Their were moments in which technical issues (sound, mainly) and an occasional lack of organisation in the individual talks threatened to derail or detract from the incredibly important topics raised, but in general recoveries were easily made and all problems were overcome. Such is the nature of the feminist movement.

A potential criticism of mine would have been the aforementioned lack of organisation, and resulting informality of the discussions occurring within the smaller groups. In fact, though, I think this created a wonderfully safe environment for interactive discussion and debate. The first talk I attended was by this group who aim to- as stated in their beautifully apt summary- “challenge the culture that teaches women and girls to hate their own bodies”. There were some great speakers in this group, but they fairly promptly opened up the the debate, allowing the entire room to participate. It was immediately, and sadly inevitably apparent that this issue is one experienced by every woman at one stage or another, though to varying degrees. Stories were told, tears were shed and (in my sister’s words) the whole thing escalated into what seemed like one giant self help group. Although this subject matter is often discussed, debated and publicised, it’s not often that it’s addressed by a hundred or so women in one go. That in itself was fairly cathartic, yet the underlying tone for me was one of immense dissatisfaction. Women of thirty, fourty, fifty years of age stood to address the question of whether they could ever envisage themselves being “at peace” with their own bodies. A resounding “no”. It truly exemplifies the fact that you can completely accept and comprehend that certain values are dangerous, damaging and inherently wrong, and yet attributing that knowledge to yourself internally can still seem an impossible feat.

The second seminar I attended I’ll only describe in brief, because nothing will convey quite how incredibly important, horrifying and complex this issue is other than the first hand experiences of those affected. Read their words here, you really, really need to. Listening to women who spent years attempting to navigate an unjust, unnecessarily complex system after fleeing situations which no human being should ever have to endure was so deeply affecting. This is a problem which can only be addressed by seeking alterations to our immigration system, and changing the attitudes of those who simply refuse to empathise with those desperately seeking refuge in this country. In the (rough/paraphrased) words of (let’s just call her) ‘M’, who was one my favourite speakers of the day, “We do not come to this country to live off benefits and occupy council housing. We do not have those in our countries. We come here to work, and provide for our families back home” and of course to escape the rape, abuse and fear of murder faced by every asylum seeker present.

The debate of the London mayoral candidates (minus Bo-Jo, the one no-show, naturally) could have been better placed. I wouldn’t suggest that their speeches were disingenuous or irrelevant, but having witnessed incredibly stirring and passionate articulations for the duration of the conference, I feel the closing chapter could have been slightly more focused on feminism itself (and generally more powerful). On the other hand, the fact that those debating weren’t necessarily feminists first and foremost was compensated for by the fact that these were individuals who could truly offer solutions and progress to those of us lacking direct political influence. I just wish that those individuals bringing the day to a close had been present to promote a feminist cause and not, at least in part, to win votes.

Overall though, an excellent way to spend a Saturday. I’m filled with admiration and appreciation for those tirelessly fighting for their respective causes and furthering women’s rights with conviction and determination every single day. Completely motivated to get off my arse and do my bit, because really, if you’re talking the talk…

Personal highlights include; Sandi Togsvig, and her brilliantly sharp and funny speech, not lacking in seriousness or passion either - a great start to the day. The WAST choir’s performance. Many of the issues covered in the mayoral candidate debate, and the oratory skills of Ken Livingston in general, who I thought was rather good. Everything said by Kat Banyard (founder of UK Feminista, author of The Equality Illusion - which is why/how I became a feminist - and all round inspiring woman), I never requested my high five, but it’s probably better that way. Oh, and Samira Ahmed, who did a truly fantastic job chairing the closing debate (and just tweeted me, so we are now effectively BFFs).

An additional shout out to the vast array of organic, fair trade, locally sourced and vegetarian/vegan food and drink available in the cafe. Not the woman who served me, though, she had something of an attitude.

Thoroughly recommend this event to anyone and everyone. This was my first Feminista conference, and it most definitely will not be my last. It’s one of the only events of its kind at this scale, and it’s so important to discuss and debate these issues in a public forum and celebrate the fact that feminism is still fully alive and kicking in a non-confrontational space (well, sort of). Well organised, well presented, informative, shocking and inspiring.

fem

In the words of Sandi Toksvig, Be bold when you declare ‘I am a feminist’”. Bloody will.

Heading to Feminista 2011 tomorrow morning.

Hollaaaa

Burning the Veil.
On October 26th, hundreds of Yemeni women began setting alight their veils in protest against the dictatorship of President Saleh, and the extreme violence visited upon those partaking in the current uprising. This is apparently a traditional protest though one which is very rarely carried out. As the clothing was set ablaze they could be heard chanting “Who protects Yemeni women from the crimes of the thugs?”. 
Since Tawakel Karman won the nobel peace prize this year, much more attention seems to have been paid to these inspiring groups of exclusively female protestors who continue on relentlessly in the battle to reclaim their basic human rights.
The nature of this protest can be easily misconstrued, as women’s veils are often a hot topic on the feminist agenda. It seems, asides from the aforementioned reference to women lacking protection, that this is a fairly general appeal, after all the women pictured continue to wear their veils. Regardless, this is a wonderful example of women getting involved in political warfare in a fairly unlikely environment, and taking a bold stand against injustice.
As a feminist in the western world, we inevitably receive criticism from anti-feminists because of the fact that women’s rights are not seen as so much of an issue in this part of the planet. I firmly believe that the UK has a long way to go before we exist in a truly egalitarian society, and that applies to sex, race, dis/ability and so on. However, it’s painfully apparent whilst women in certain countries are unable to vote, drive, work and so on that those areas are far further from sexual equality than we are. This doesn’t really work, as an anti-feminist argument, though. The more informed you are on issues of this nature, regardless of the locality, the more likely you are to advocate women’s rights, to call yourself a feminist, and hopefully actively support women in those situations, as well as focusing on the problems wherever you may live.
The problem with the concept of banning the veil which is a topic covered in the media currently due to the recent french ban on niqabs and burqas (see here for different types of veil, as the names are commonly misused) is that it’s seen as a religious tradition, and being that feminists usually oppose being told what to/not to wear by an authority, it’s certainly dangerous ground. There are many reasons, though, why people may challenge the convention - both from a women’s rights perspective and in terms of general practicality (for example the complications faced in identifying a criminal, should they have worn a veil whilst committed the crime).
It’s an incredibly complex issue, and infringing upon the rights of religious groups to practise common conventions is something which anyone would be reluctant to do, particularly as it often negatively impacts upon people’s sense of identity and isn’t often seen to contribute towards a greater good. I’m not a fan of anyone being told what they can and cannot wear, or how they must represent themselves, or how they must act in society and what role they must play, but this is an issue which should be debated at length, and whilst conventions should be challenged, it must be done with tact and empathy.

Burning the Veil.

On October 26th, hundreds of Yemeni women began setting alight their veils in protest against the dictatorship of President Saleh, and the extreme violence visited upon those partaking in the current uprising. This is apparently a traditional protest though one which is very rarely carried out. As the clothing was set ablaze they could be heard chanting “Who protects Yemeni women from the crimes of the thugs?”.

Since Tawakel Karman won the nobel peace prize this year, much more attention seems to have been paid to these inspiring groups of exclusively female protestors who continue on relentlessly in the battle to reclaim their basic human rights.

The nature of this protest can be easily misconstrued, as women’s veils are often a hot topic on the feminist agenda. It seems, asides from the aforementioned reference to women lacking protection, that this is a fairly general appeal, after all the women pictured continue to wear their veils. Regardless, this is a wonderful example of women getting involved in political warfare in a fairly unlikely environment, and taking a bold stand against injustice.

As a feminist in the western world, we inevitably receive criticism from anti-feminists because of the fact that women’s rights are not seen as so much of an issue in this part of the planet. I firmly believe that the UK has a long way to go before we exist in a truly egalitarian society, and that applies to sex, race, dis/ability and so on. However, it’s painfully apparent whilst women in certain countries are unable to vote, drive, work and so on that those areas are far further from sexual equality than we are. This doesn’t really work, as an anti-feminist argument, though. The more informed you are on issues of this nature, regardless of the locality, the more likely you are to advocate women’s rights, to call yourself a feminist, and hopefully actively support women in those situations, as well as focusing on the problems wherever you may live.

The problem with the concept of banning the veil which is a topic covered in the media currently due to the recent french ban on niqabs and burqas (see here for different types of veil, as the names are commonly misused) is that it’s seen as a religious tradition, and being that feminists usually oppose being told what to/not to wear by an authority, it’s certainly dangerous ground. There are many reasons, though, why people may challenge the convention - both from a women’s rights perspective and in terms of general practicality (for example the complications faced in identifying a criminal, should they have worn a veil whilst committed the crime).

It’s an incredibly complex issue, and infringing upon the rights of religious groups to practise common conventions is something which anyone would be reluctant to do, particularly as it often negatively impacts upon people’s sense of identity and isn’t often seen to contribute towards a greater good. I’m not a fan of anyone being told what they can and cannot wear, or how they must represent themselves, or how they must act in society and what role they must play, but this is an issue which should be debated at length, and whilst conventions should be challenged, it must be done with tact and empathy.


Why I Am a Male Feminist

By: Byron Hurt

The word turns off a lot of men (insert snarky comment about man-hating feminazis here) — and women. But here’s why black men should be embracing the “f” word.

When I was a little boy, my mother and father used to argue a lot. Some mornings, I would wake up to the alarming sound of my parents arguing loudly. The disagreement would continue until my father would yell with finality, “That is it! I’m not talking about this anymore!” The dispute would end right there. My mother never got the last word.

My dad’s yelling made me shrink in fear; I wanted to do something to make him stop raging against my mother. In those moments, I felt powerless because I was too small to confront my father. I learned early that he had an unfair advantage because of his gender. His size, strength and power intimidated my mother. I never saw my father hit her, but I did witness how injurious his verbal jabs could be when they landed on my mom’s psyche.

My father didn’t always mistreat my mother, but when he did, I identified with her pain, not his bullying. When he hurt her, he hurt me, too. My mother and I had a special bond. She was funny, smart, loving and beautiful. She was a great listener who made me feel special and important. And whenever the going got tough, she was my rock and my foundation.

One morning, after my father yelled at my mom during an argument, she and I stood in the bathroom together, alone, getting ready for the day ahead of us. The tension in the house was as thick as a cloud of dark smoke. I could tell that my mother was upset. “I love you, Ma, but I just wish that you had a little more spunk when you argue with Daddy,” I said, low enough so my father couldn’t hear me. She looked at me, rubbed my back and forced a smile.

I so badly wanted my mother to stand up for herself. I didn’t understand why she had to submit to him whenever they fought. Who was he to lay down the law in the household? What made him so special?

I grew to resent my father’s dominance in the household, even though I loved him as dearly as I loved my mother. His anger and intimidation shut down my mother, sister and me from freely expressing our opinions whenever they didn’t sit well with his own. Something about the inequity in their relationship felt unjust to me, but at that young age, I couldn’t articulate why.

One day, as we sat at the kitchen table after another of their many spats, my mother told me, “Byron, don’t ever treat a woman the way your father treats me.” I wish I had listened to her advice.

As I grew older and got into my own relationships with girls and women, I sometimes behaved as I saw my father behave. I, too, became defensive and verbally abusive whenever the girl or woman I was dating criticized or challenged me. I would belittle my girlfriends by scrutinizing their weight or their choices in clothes. In one particular college relationship, I often used my physical size to intimidate my petite girlfriend, standing over her and yelling to get my point across during arguments.

I had internalized what I had seen in my home and was slowly becoming what I had disdained as a young boy. Although my mother attempted to teach me better, I, like a lot of boys and men, felt entitled to mistreat the female gender when it benefited me to do so.

After graduating from college, I needed a job. I learned about a new outreach program that was set to launch. It was called the Mentors in Violence Prevention Project. As a student-athlete, I had done community outreach, and the MVP Project seemed like a good gig until I got a real job in my field: journalism.

Founded by Jackson Katz, the MVP Project was designed to use the status of athletes to make gender violence socially unacceptable. When I met with Katz, I didn’t realize that the project was a domestic violence prevention program. Had I known that, I wouldn’t have gone in for the job interview.

So when Katz explained that they were looking to hire a man to help institutionalize curricula about preventing gender violence at high schools and colleges around the country, I almost walked out the door. But during my interview, Katz asked me an interesting question. “Byron, how does African-American men’s violence against African-American women uplift the African-American community?”

No one had ever asked me that question before. As an African-American man who was deeply concerned about race issues, I had never given much thought about how emotional abuse, battering, sexual assault, street harassment and rape could affect an entire community, just as racism does.

The following day, I attended a workshop about preventing gender violence, facilitated by Katz. There, he posed a question to all of the men in the room: “Men, what things do you do to protect yourself from being raped or sexually assaulted?”

Not one man, including myself, could quickly answer the question. Finally, one man raised his hand and said, “Nothing.” Then Katz asked the women, “What things do you do to protect yourself from being raped or sexually assaulted?” Nearly all of the women in the room raised their hand. One by one, each woman testified:

“I don’t make eye contact with men when I walk down the street,” said one.
“I don’t put my drink down at parties,” said another. 
“I use the buddy system when I go to parties.”
“I cross the street when I see a group of guys walking in my direction.” 
“I use my keys as a potential weapon.” 
“I carry mace or pepper spray.”
“I watch what I wear.”

The women went on for several minutes, until their side of the blackboard was completely filled with responses. The men’s side of the blackboard was blank. I was stunned. I had never heard a group of women say these things before. I thought about all of the women in my life — including my mother, sister and girlfriend — and realized that I had a lot to learn about gender.

Days after that workshop, Katz offered me the job as a mentor-training specialist, and I accepted his offer. Although I didn’t know much about gender issues from an academic standpoint, I quickly learned on the job. I read books and essays by bell hooks, Patricia Hill Collins, Angela Davis and other feminist writers.

Like most guys, I had bought into the stereotype that all feminists were white, lesbian, unattractive male bashers who hated all men. But after reading the work of these black feminists, I realized that this was far from the truth. After digging into their work, I came to really respect the intelligence, courage and honesty of these women.

Feminists did not hate men. In fact, they loved men. But just as my father had silenced my mother during their arguments to avoid hearing her gripes, men silenced feminists by belittling them in order to dodge hearing the truth about who we are.

I learned that feminists offered an important critique about a male-dominated society that routinely, and globally, treated women like second-class citizens. They spoke the truth, and even though I was a man, their truth spoke to me. Through feminism, I developed a language that helped me better articulate things that I had experienced growing up as a male.

Feminist writings about patriarchy, racism, capitalism and structural sexism resonated with me because I had witnessed firsthand the kind of male dominance they challenged. I saw it as a child in my home and perpetuated it as an adult. Their analysis of male culture and male behavior helped me put my father’s patriarchy into a much larger social context, and also helped me understand myself better.

I decided that I loved feminists and embraced feminism. Not only does feminism give woman a voice, but it also clears the way for men to free themselves from the stranglehold of traditional masculinity. When we hurt the women in our lives, we hurt ourselves, and we hurt our community, too.

As I became an adult, my father’s behaviour toward my mother changed. As he aged he mellowed, and stopped being so argumentative and verbally abusive. My mother grew to assert herself more whenever they disagreed.

It shocked me to hear her get in the last word as my father listened without getting angry. That was quite a reversal. Neither of them would consider themselves to be feminists, but I believe they both learned over time how to be fuller individuals who treated each other with mutual respect. By the time my father died from cancer in 2007, he was proudly sporting the baseball cap around town that I had given him that read, “End Violence Against Women.” Who says men can’t be feminists?

Byron Hurt is an award-winning documentary filmmaker and anti-sexist activist. Follow him on Twitter.