I got into a discussion on Jive Junction today (yeah yeah, I should have seen it coming), and I wanted to write a reply there, but I didn’t. I wrote it all out, I edited it, but I couldn’t press post. Because I felt too fucking scared.
Basically, I wasn’t paying close attention to the discussion, because I was multi-tasking at the time. I read the first post and dismissed it as yet another fucking pain in the arse post about how we’re overreacting, and isn’t lindy hop just… whatever. Then I skim read a bit. Then I just posted a few times and kind of lost track. But I probably should have paid more attention, because it escalated quite quickly.
I used to write quite personal things on this blog. I’d write about my everyday, my life, my feels. But I don’t do that so much any more because I attract quite a lot more readers than I used to. And that means more unpleasant comments, more emails, more interaction. Urk. All that shit is tiring.
Anyways, here is a personal post. I feel like I have to be logical logical logical. Calm calm calm. Sensible sensible sensible in these discussions. Like I have to fact check and edit and logic check. And then add a lump of self-depreciating, dry humour to deflect any personal attacks. When most of the time I’m actually trying not to cry, and I can’t help thinking about the shitty stuff that happens to me on a daily basis, just part of everyday sexism as a woman having the balls to be out in public on her own – whether that’s the bus, the dance floor, or the internet.
This is what I ended up posting:
Jump back. Feminist posts series of illogical, emotional, failure-to-listen-to-men posts about sexual harassment that don’t actually engage with the topic at hand and almost derails sensible discussion.
I can see the appeal of this approach. I might try it again in the future. #notallfeminists
It’s textbook trolling. I should feel ashamed. But I don’t. Not really. Well, only a little bit. Self-doubt. I have it.
This is what I wanted to write on JJ, but didn’t post:
So, whatevs, right? It’s not like there’s a shortage of random illogic in JJ, yeah? I reckon there’s some confusion about how we’re each using words. Predatory behaviour _is_ about sexual harassment and bullying, and grooming, and a whole host of other behaviours. Even the way you use the word ‘studios’ is culturally specific, Peter: we don’t even have that concept of ‘studio dance’ in Sydney, let alone Australian lindy hop, and the word doesn’t resonate with me the way it does with you. But I’ve lost track of this discussion. I tend to skim read most threads on this stuff because I can’t handle the scary sexism underlying a lot of the talk about this issue. Yolo.
As I said, I find it really difficult to read about and talk about this stuff, particularly in real time, because every time I write in detail about what it’s like to be sexually harassed, I get the shakes, because this shit happens to ME. I can’t be cool and logical because this stuff isn’t cool and logical for me. It happened to me yesterday on the bus, it’ll probably happen to me this afternoon when I go out, and it’ll keep happening to me, pretty much every day. Sexual harassment is my lived experience, it’s my every day.
Of course I’m distracted by my lived experience in my local scene – we all are. That’s the _point_. I have to start with my own experiences, and yet part of being a feminist is recognising that your own lived experiences cannot be generalised to the whole world. I’m on board with that. Are you?
Most of the time when I’m writing about these issues, I have to stop and edit millions of times before I post a comment. I had to wait a long time before I could post about Sarah’s story on my blog. And even now, I’d like to write more, but I can’t because I’m kind of scared shitless by the sort of fallout I’ll attract. I take a lot of care to be logical and calm when I write about this stuff, because I feel I have to be nine million times calmer than the randos who then move in and send me hate mail and horrible comments.
Because that’s what happens whenever I write about this stuff in a public forum – my ‘other’ inbox on fb fills up with nasty comments, I get unpleasant emails, I get messages from people who want to ‘initiate a dialogue’ about sexual assault with me, people come up to me in person at dance events and want to talk about hardcore sexual politics in lindy hop, and it can scare me silly not to mention just tire me the fuck out.
I know it’s not cool to devolve an internet discussion into poor-me-I’m-a-baby talk, but whatevs. I’m not 100% coherent and cool and logical all the time.
This is why I’m so impressed by those women who actually wrote whole posts about being sexually assaulted. Who recorded live videos! It’s so hard just writing about everyday ordinary stuff like being groped in the supermarket, having men stare at your body and try to make eye contact on the footpath, shouted at by passing cars, or manhandled on the dance floor. To speak about being drugged and assaulted! It’s beyond brave. It’s mighty.
