SlutWalk, Sex-negative Culture, and Why Sexual Freedom Matters

I am planning to participate in Vancouver's Slutwalk on May 15th. For those of you who are not familiar with Slutwalk, it began as a demonstration in Toronto following a police officer's comments that women should 'stop dressing like sluts in order to keep from being victimized'. For more information, see this link: http://www.slutwalktoronto.com/

I have often thought about these sex-negative and misogynistic views that are so deeply embedded in our society. We, as a culture, seem to accept that women are responsible for any violence inflicted upon us for daring to step out of our traditional gender roles of passivity, modesty and chastity. When a woman is sexually assaulted, it is far too common to hear someone say 'she had it coming' in that self-righteous tone. As though wearing a short skirt, or walking alone after dark, or drinking more than one glass of alcohol, or simply being attractive, are somehow criminal offenses that require the torturous punishment of rape.

The threat of rape is a tool of control used against women to keep us in our place. Men are expected to be able to walk the streets freely, even though, statistically, men are more at risk of general violence in public than women. Women are more at risk of violence from people we know. However, as a woman, it is hard to escape from the perception that rape can occur at any time. I remember when I entered my teens I felt my world become smaller. My developing body became hyper-sexualized. Simple actions and movements were suddenly commented on in a negative, invasive way. I started wearing baggy clothes to hide my curves, which, by the way, didn't protect me from the constant barrage of sexual harassment from boys at school and creepy men on the street. I was envious of my brothers. Their worlds grew when they hit puberty. They were able to, gradually, walk the street freely, while I was expected to be even more careful. I was taught that, as a woman, I was vulnerable to sexual assault and should conduct myself accordingly.

Never mind that it is completely impractical a great deal of the time for a woman to never walk alone after dark. I have always relied on public transit. I work as a server, which means I have always worked odd hours. Should I then always have a buddy to walk with me, even if I am the only server working a particular shift? Should I forego working and allow the state to support me rather than risk walking alone to the bus stop or to a waiting taxi? Never mind that I often prefer to be alone. I am a social being, but I crave time with my own thoughts. Do I deserve to be raped because I like to walk country roads without a male escort?

When I lived in Edmonton, I was active in the poetry scene. The Raving Poets had regular readings in the evening. I would take the bus to and from the readings. If I had decided that I would rather not walk alone at night, I would not be able to express myself through sharing my poetry with an audience, and that audience would miss out on my words. Can we, as a culture, afford to restrict and stifle the voices of half of our population?

What bothers me most about these restrictions we place, unquestioningly, on women, is that it gives dignity to rapists, harassers and abusers. It sends the implicit message that these miscreants are more deserving of occupying public space than women who are just going about their daily lives. I know that many people who accept these restrictions on the behavior of women do not see it that way, but there is no real getting around it. We cannot oppose violence against women while making violence the woman’s fault. We cannot keep women safe by essentially keeping women under strict curfew and informal house arrest.

It seems that our culture encourages the trivialization of harassment and violence against women. In my teens and early twenties, I was subjected to a considerable amount of harassment and violence. I have been stalked, beaten, and have fought off potential rapists. Although I have never been raped in the traditional understanding of it, I have experienced coercive sexual situations where I performed sex acts I did not want in order to prevent further or potential violence.

After leaving an abusive partner and escaping stalkers, I went back to school for upgrading. I remember talking to the director of the multimedia program at the school, a man I liked and respected. During the conversation, I mentioned that I previously was too afraid to go to school because of sexual harassment I encountered. He proceeded to discount my claims, saying that ‘generally women who encounter harassment are excessively flirtatious.’ I was shocked into silence.

Every time we imply that a woman deserves it, we contribute to a culture of silence. I was vocal about my experiences with harassment in my early twenties. After constantly being asked ‘what were you wearing?’ and told that it was my own fault, I decided to be quiet and suffer in silence. Men would follow me home from school asking me to give them blowjobs. Men would yell obscenities from their cars. Once, a man put his hand up my skirt while I was walking home. Did I mention that this was in the middle of the day?

When I look at these problems, it is clear to me that our cultural disrespect for and revulsion towards sex is at the centre of it. This disrespect and revulsion is founded largely in our religious heritage. Sex became equated with sin, and women with lust and temptation. Therefore, sexual women are seen as tempting men into eternal damnation. When sex becomes cut off from our essential humanity, divorced from all the beauty and tenderness and passion that are intrinsic to sexuality, it becomes easy to demonize the sexually expressive woman as an agent of sin.

I am very encouraged to see this mindset changing in the West. The proliferation of interest in spiritual sex is one example. Another is, of course, the large-scale challenging of these assumptions about the role of women.

We need to find a different approach towards sex and gender if we are ever going to be healthy. Women need to be able to own our sexuality without fear of violence or slut-shaming. Men need to be able to express their full range of emotions without fear of being labeled weak or unmasculine. People need to be able to be comfortable with the fact that we all exist somewhere on the sexual spectrum between gay and straight, male and female, without being afraid of violence or ridicule. For this to happen, we need to see sex as basically good, natural and part of our essential humanity. When we feel that sex is sacred and beautiful, the perversion of it through coercion and violence will inspire healthy, righteous anger. We will rise up and fight for our right to sexual expression, which can only flourish in the absence of violence and the presence of support, education, healthy communication and trust.