Yale Rape-Chant Video

If you haven't already, please take a second to view this video of Yale fraternity pledges chanting "No means yes. Yes means anal."

I don't have words for how disturbing this video is to me. It is distusting and vial. It is not, however, particularly surprising. My one year as a student at a University with the "Greek System" made me very well acquainted with the connection between fraternities and rape. I know that not all fraternities encourage rape in this way. But I doubt that Yale is alone in these types of practices, either.

In my opinion, Yale's response to this video was unacceptable. They called it "a lapse in judgment."

I wrote the following to Dean Mary Miller to urge her to take discinplinary action againt the fraternity in question. I encourage you to do the same. Just click this link to get started! (If you agree with me, feel free to use my language).

Dear Dean Miller,

I am writing you because I believe that you are in a powerful position to set a culture-changing precedent. My name is Eva Ball and I am the Prevention Education Specialist at the largest rape crisis center in Chicago. Thank you for taking the time to read this email.

In my experience, the connection between rape & fraternities is not a Yale-specific phenomena. And while I can understand and appreciate why Yale may take a self-protective stance on this issue and minimize the implications of this video, I urge you not to take this path. Instead, I urge you to take this as a historical moment, a moment in which Yale University takes a firm stance against rape and the systems that promote it.

I understand that there may be political consequences to taking punitive action against the Delta Kappa Epsilon fraternity. I know this must not be a simple issue for the college to address. But I beg you to consider setting an example for universities to follow in the future, and take serious action against this fraternity. Not only will you send a strong message about your priorities to your students, but you will set a much-needed precedent that could prevent countless acts of sexual violence in the future.

You have an ability to make substantial progress in the way rape is addressed on college campuses. Please do not miss this opportunity.

With gratitude and respect,
Eva

Sex, Rape and the F-Word

I am glad I was raped in 2003 as opposed to say…1963. After realizing I was assaulted a few clicks-of-the-mouse connected me to helping services on my college campus and in my hometown. Infrastructure was in place and funding was set up to help people in my very situation. To me, having these resources available was life changing and life saving.

Had I been a young woman merely 40 years earlier, my situation would have been very different. It wasn’t until the 1970s that rape crisis centers, hotlines or advocacy programs even existed. Before the 1970s a rape victim (yes, “victim” – the term “survivor” was yet-to-be coined) had few options. They were lucky if they had a friend or family member to turn to, but without any public discourse about rape and without any helping services in place, they most likely had to suffer in silence. So yeah, I’m happy to be a young survivor now as opposed to then. And I will forever be indebted to the founding mothers of the feminist anti-rape movement who got those services started.

But despite amazing feminist accomplishments the word “feminist” has a polarizing effect when uttered in mixed company. The dreaded “f” word brings up mental images of man-hating bra-burners who are driven by anger and rage. And while anger and rage are warranted when you’ve been raped or otherwise abused I’ve worked with a lot of feminists, and I would like to testify that more often than not their work is driven by love. They love themselves enough to acknowledge they deserve to be treated better than doormats, blow-ups dolls or punching bags. They love each other enough to support their brothers and sisters who've been raped or beaten or used. They love humanity enough to strive endlessly to ensure a safer world for future generations. Yet they, we, tend to get a bad name. I want to clear that up.

Regardless of your gender, if you believe that it’s worthwhile to provide helping services to rape survivors, you’re a feminist. If you believe that sexual violence is bogus and the world would be better without it, you’re a feminist. If you think women are whole people and not objects to be fucked, you are a feminist. If you’re bothering to read this blog, you’re probably a feminist. And I encourage you to claim the “f” word as part of your identity. I am honored to do so and to align myself with people who call injustice by name and dedicate their lives to fighting against it.

But just because I’m a feminist doesn’t mean I agree with all the feminists in the world. And just because I don’t agree doesn’t mean we’re enemies. We can appreciate and value one another while disagreeing. For example, an older feminist recently told me she has a staunch anti-pornography and anti-prostitution stance. I disagree with her stance because I strive to live where idealism meets strategy. In 2010 porn is down-right mainstream. It simply isn’t strategic for young feminists to work to end pornography or the sex trade. It may have been a reasonable stance in the 70s, but I don’t think it’s a relevant approach to getting work done today. But despite our differing ideologies I respect her and the work she’s done. Heck! Without her work, I wouldn't be able to do mine.

That being said, it is clear to me that the anti-rape movement is in the midst of a paradigm shift. And when the movement successfully shifts to sex-positive, I hope we can do it with the understanding and support of the feminists who came before us. Similarly, us young feminists need to understand that our work may not be relevant or even appreciated by future generations. But that is okay. Because in order for feminism to thrive we need to constantly adapt to the changing world, and we must love and support one another through those changes. (Luckily, this plays to our strengths).

I was raped in 2003 by a friend, a man with whom I’d had a previous sexual relationship. I didn’t even know that what happened to me was rape. I was never explicitly taught that I should expect to be respected in the bedroom. No one told me to expect pleasure. So it didn’t immediately occur to me as problematic that neither of these things were happening. Months later I confided in a friend that “he had sex with me” and my friend responded, “did he have ‘sex with you’? Or did he rape you?” Before that, it hadn’t even occurred to me that I had been raped. But it was healing and relieving to call it by name. Yes, he did rape me. That is why I’m crying so much of the time. That is why I lost my appetite, my joy. That is why I lost my ability to find happiness in my first true love: music. Because he raped me.

I hope that future generations can take for granted the difference between rape and sex. I hope that the status quo becomes expecting pleasure, respect and most of all, CONSENT, regardless of your gender. Because as it stands, I truly don’t think you have to be a terrible person to commit rape. All you have to do is follow the status quo.

Thankfully, things are much better than they used to be. But we’ve still got a long way to go...

See something? Say something.

I was sexually harassed tonight. My face is soaked in tears and I am feeling defeated.

I've been harassed before, plenty of times. But rather than getting "thicker skin" I feel as though the same scab is peeled off again and again, the wound growing ever deeper. I contemplate quitting my weekend job where much of the harassment takes place. But then I remember that this harassment doesn't happen because I'm a performer, because I dance in a short skirt or because my character appears to be drunk -- it happens because I am a woman. I've been sexually harassed walking down the street on a sunny day dressed to go to my grandmother's birthday party. It has nothing to do with what I wear or how I present myself. It has to do with the fact that the harasser thinks is a-okay to treat me with disrespect. Because I am a woman.

And why shouldn't he? Tonight there were literally hundreds of people witnessing the harassment, but did anyone speak up? Besides the lead singer of my band, no (at least, not to my knowledge). The fellow audience members were apparently good enough folks to not be yelling obscenities about my body, but not good enough people to shush-up or call security on the d-bags who were. So that leaves these d-bags with the message that it is okay -- it's okay to be a sexist, perverted asshole.

But it's not okay. Far from it. And I have faith that most people agree with me. Because I usually don't get harassed. I've played over 400 shows in the last five years, and despite the fact that I always wear a short dress, I always dance enticingly and my character always appears to drink Jack Daniels [coke + water = fake whiskey], only seldom does someone take those factors as an invitation for a verbal assault. So clearly it's not me -- it's them.

And if I'm correct that most people don't think sexual harassment is okay, I want to know: why do so many people condone it when it happens? Why don't more people speak up? Of course, there can be as many answers to this question as there are silent spectators, but my hunch is that most people don't speak up because they see it as normal. They see women being objectified on TV, billboards, music videos, movies and as a result, seeing it in real life may not seem shocking or even problematic.

But it is VERY problematic. Because I am a strong woman. And this shit puts me to tears. It makes me feel weak. It makes me feel like all my work to end sexual violence is for nothing. It makes me feel like I don't matter. It makes me feel unsafe in my workplace. It makes me feel like a victim. But I am a fucking survivor.

If you're reading this, you're probably my friend. And since you're my friend I don't mind asking you this favor: if you see something, say something. Please don't tacitly support sexual violence by bearing silent witness to verbal or physical assault. Speak up. Get security. Put the perp in their place. Intervene safely in a way that is comfortable to you. But for goodness sake, intervene. If you do already, thank you. Now consider taking it a step further and encouraging your friends to do the same. This shit won't stop unless we stop it.

Usually I end my posts with some words of encouragement. But they are escaping me tonight. Have you got any for me? I could use them.

I'd like to thank the members of Wedding Banned, past and present, for ALWAYS supporting me, being my advocates and never blaming me. I love you guys.

Rape, Sex and the Grey Area

It’s common for sexual assault survivors to disassociate (leave their bodies) during a sexual encounter. And we know as many as 1 in 4 women are survivors of sexual assault. (FYI -- Staci Haines’ book A Survivor’s Guide to Sex is a phenomenal resource for partners of/survivor’s dealing with this issue). But I imagine that many women who are not sexual assault survivors struggle to remain “present” and fully enjoy sex as well. After all, women's pleasure is all-but-disregarded in our culture. I can make arguments about why this is the case (male orgasm is needed to make babies, female orgasm is not), but I’d very much like for it not to be case. Because, to borrow from a sister’s post: “women are rarely encouraged to experience pleasure or taught how to do so, which relates to rape culture in that women often do not expect pleasure from sex and therefore consent to touch that they do not particularly want, or consent for reasons of convenience or guilt.”

Because women are not taught to expect pleasure it becomes normal for women to have sexual encounters that are not pleasurable. Given these circumstances, the best-case scenario is that these women will have unfulfilling sex lives. The worst-case scenario is that sexual violence will be normalized to them. Neither sound fun to me, but the latter is particularly problematic.

A 2009 study by East Carolina University, Virginia Tech and University of Houston found that when women do not acknowledge sexual violence as a violation they are more likely to be revictimized.[1] Basically, if you don’t call rape “rape” you’re more likely to be raped…again. Despite this, our culture encourages women to believe that in many cases rape is actually just “bad sex.” I've seen this confusion play-out in countless friends and clients who've disclosed to me over the past eight years. (I want to be clear here: I am not critiquing individuals for choosing to name/not name an experience “rape.” I am critiquing the culture that encourages this confusion between rape and consensual sex). Failing to value women’s sexual pleasure enables rape culture and renders sexual violence invisible and even permissible.

So, women: we need to learn to expect pleasure from our sexual encounters. We need to support our sisters to do the same. We need to stop slut shaming one another. When we're not getting the pleasure we expect we need to speak up about it. We need to get comfortable voicing our needs before, during and after a sexual encounter. We need to practice enthusiastic consent that is mutual, active and ongoing.

Partners of women: we need to know that our orgasm does not mean a sexual encounter is complete. We need to speak up, not only about our own desires but inquire about our partners' as well. We need to stop slut shaming, too. We need to be able to hear that what we've been doing hasn't been working, and we need to be ready to make changes going forward. We need to practice enthusiastic consent.

Consent can be a confusing thing, as such there may always be grey area between "sex" and "rape." But I'd like that grey area to shrink. One way to do that is to fight against the sexist and heterosexist notion that sex is/should be about men's pleasure. If we can cool-off our slut shaming and expect enthusiastic consent and pleasure from all actors in a sexual encounter we'll be on the right track. Plus, we'll be having a really good time.

Of course, no matter what we do or what our culture tells us, there will be people who enjoy raping other people. As far as I know, rape has occurred in all cultures throughout history. And I can't know with certainty that changing the way our culture views rape or sexuality will significantly diminish the occurance of rape. But I think it might and I believe it's a worthwhile effort. We may not be able to change people's biology, but we can change what they're taught to view as "normal." And I have great hopes that if we're taught that women's pleasure IS normal and coercive and/or drunk and/or forced sex IS NOT, that much rape would be prevented -- or at the very least, not be tolerated. What's happening now isn't working. 1 in 4 is WAY too many. We need a change.


[1] Psychology of Women Quarterly, 33 (2009), 34-42.

Sex, Appeal and Self Acceptance

To find someone "sexy" is to find them appealing. This person leaves you wanting more -- one more glance, one more touch, one more thrust. You want conversations to last a little longer, your smiles to linger, your goodbyes to be postponed.

Popular culture tends to view "sexy" in very narrow terms. If you Google Image Search sexy woman or sexy man you'll see what I mean. A picture is worth a thousand words -- and these pictures show us that sexy women are skinny, white, sexually available, docile, "feminine" creatures. "Sexy men" on the other hand, are also white, but "masculine" -- big, muscled and sexually aggressive.

These qualities may be what mainstream media finds sexy -- but are they appealing to you? Perhaps they are (and that is totally okay). But I'd guess that most readers find a broader spectrum of attributes to be appealing. Even my male, heterosexual, non-feminist friends like women who voice opinions and showcase their personality. The alternative is just, well, boring. And it's my understanding that my friends who like men (myself included), like men who may or may not have muscles, but definitely have emotional intelligence.

The meaning of sexy has been depersonalized. It has been co-opted by corporations with something to sell. But what you find appealing is personal to you. Realizing and discussing this distinction can diminish the number of people who work tirelessly to attain impossible beauty standards. Virtually (if not all) personal attributes are appealing to someone. We need to encourage one another to just be yourself, and look for someone who finds you appealing. Confidence is appealing. Confidence is sexy. All aboard the just-get-busy-loving-yourself-and-appealing-things-will-come-your-way train! Choo! Choo!

Gender and Sexual Violence

Before I get into the "meat" of this post, I want start with a quick Biology/Sociology lesson: "Sex" is a biological term that refers to the bits you were born with (penis, vagina or intersexed). "Gender" is a sociological term that refers to identity. Check this out for a useful (and pretty awesome) visual definition.

Okay so...when folks talk about sexual violence its common to use the pronoun "she" for the victim/survivor and "he" for the perpetrator(s). This is not without understandable reason. After all, the majority of survivors are women and the vast majority of perpetrators (98-99%) are men. (It is important to note that while most perpetrators are men, most men are not perpetrators). But despite the statistics, I think our use of gendered pronouns (in general and in terms of sexual violence) warrants some examination.

Previous posts have discussed barriers to "coming out" as a rape survivor. The fear of not being believed or of being blamed are two barriers that can impact survivors of all genders. But for survivors who aren't women, common myths and misconceptions make it even harder to come forward.

For example, some folks believe that a man will be "turned gay" if he is raped by another man, despite the fact that there is zero scientific evidence which supports that theory. And plenty of folks believe that it's not even possible for men to be raped (even though 1 in 6 boys will be sexually abused or assaulted before their 18th birthdays and that 1 in 10-33 men will be sexually assaulted within their lifetime).

For transgendered people the barriers to coming out as a survivor can be even greater. (Transgender is a new term to lots of folks. In short, it describes folks whose biological sex is not "in line" with their gender, as it is traditionally understood. If you're unfamiliar or would like more information please check out these sites). In addition to dealing with myths about rape, transfolk have to deal with prejudices against their very identity. Medical staff, legal officials nor the general population are given sufficient training about the specific needs of trangendered people. As a result, trans survivors may be met with misunderstanding, or worse, blatant bigotry when they seek support.

Since it's arguably harder for people who aren't both biological females and sociological women to come out as survivors, I think our movement needs to go out of it's way to give men and trans survivors more of a voice.

We, as a movement, have tended toward using language that indicates 1) only women get raped and 2) only two genders exist. In doing so, we are effectively erasing the experiences of many survivors. So let's cut it out already!

I propose we change the way we talk about rape. First of all, don't assume all survivors are female (or that all perpetrators are male). And when you talk about gender (in terms of sexual assault, or in general), change your language slightly to say things like "all genders" instead of "both genders." Of course, this is just a start. There is much more work to be done before trans and male survivors will have ready access to the support they deserve. But I've learned to appreciate "baby steps." So let's have at it!

Thanks to the very fabulous Cat for your help with this post (you really are VERY fabulous)!

Lady Love!

I've been lucky to be surrounded by supportive women throughout my life. Whether personally or professionally, the women in my life have been a major source of security and strength. So it always comes as a bit of a shock to me when I hear women say things like "I don't trust women," or generalizations like "women are catty." But maybe I shouldn't be surprised. After all, that is what we're taught to believe...

Through multiple sources, the media included, women are taught to mistrust and be "catty" toward one another. We are taught to keep secrets from one another -- to be nice to each others' faces then talk trash behind our backs. We're taught that we can build ourselves up by cutting each other down. And many of us believe what we're taught, at least some of the time. As hard as I try not to, I sometimes catch myself entertaining petty and useless notions about other women.

So I have to ask myself: who benefits when we cut each other down? I've got some theories (the billion + dollar cosmetics industry, for one) but rest assured we -- women as a group -- do not benefit from these catty antics.

So let's cut it out already! Let's choose to be happy for our sisters who are reaching their goals. Let's speak up when we hear women call each other nasty names. Let's defend our gender when we hear sweeping and negative generalizations about us.

I'd wager that our own insecurities are at the heart of catty behavior. So I can't help but wonder: if women spent as much time building each other up as we currently do cutting each other down: how many of our insecurities would be shifted to securities? I'd like to find out.

Let's not beat ourselves up for doing what we've been taught to do. Let's just stop doing it! Let's treat each other with love and claim sisterhood as the legacy of our generation.