At dinner, a dinner like all of our dinners. We sat down, talked about what we did during the day, and then started sharing fun stuff that happened. My friend asked me what I had done, and I told her that I watched a speech Angelina Jolie had made, and how I was so touched. Then of course, because we mentioned Angelina Jolie, I had to mention how unfairly the world treats women.
I had been surfing the web, and because I very recently became obsessed with the humanitarian Angelina Jolie was, I searched up a lot of stuff about her. Of course, the irony is that with everything I searched about her, I would see things discussing her marriage, and more importantly, her status as a “husband stealer.” It was infuriating to me, because I had also been a fan of Brad Pitt once, and I had never known about his private life until I began to research Angelina Jolie. No one ever mentioned it. No one ever mentioned how, even if the couple did begin their relationship before Brad Pitt had divorced Jennifer Aniston, something that Angelina Jolie has vehemently denied, than Brad Pitt was the one who cheated, the one who couldn't control himself.
So of course, during dinner, because I brought Angelina Jolie up, I brought Brad Pitt up, and began a tirade on how women were treated unfairly. My friend watched me with a indulgent smile on her face, because she understood me well, and knew once I began there was no stopping me. I talked about how women were branded for life by their personal life, and how men were seen by their works and their accomplishments, when my classmate turned to me and said, something to the effect of: “That’s not how it is anymore.”
For context, I talk about feminism everyday. Why, only today at lunch I told everyone about the Birth Control Movement and the Feminist Sex Wars and the Sexual Revolution to explain how sex and sex education are vital parts of feminism and the fight for equality.
So I was shocked to hear him say that. I turned to him and asked: “What do you mean?”
He shrugged and kept shoveling his lettuce down his throat. “Well, that was in the past. That doesn’t happen to women anymore.”
To which I had nothing to say. I didn’t know what to say. I turned to my mom for help, and she said: “he doesn’t understand what you’re saying. You have to explain it to him.”
And so I did. I turned to him and said: “Women are still defined by their private lives, much more than men. For example, just recently, a host of a Chinese channel, Bingbing Wang, was basically hated on for having been divorced. The comments people left to her because of this were disgusting. People called her a liar, people called her unfit to be a host, all because she had once been divorced.”
He looked at me, and went: “When was this?”
I didn’t know how the date was related, but I answered him anyway. “2021.”
“Yeah, well, it’s been a year, I think people have changed.”
To which I was once again rendered speechless. “You think society can change in one year?”
“Yeah.”
So I once again turned to my friend, who was still smiling with that indulgent smile, and suddenly felt hopeless. I had always been so adamant about feminism, and I always said so much about it, yet he still thought that society could change in one year? It made me sad. It made me want to cry. I turned to him, and tried again.
“What about the Violence Against Women Act? That was literally supposed to be renewed in 2018, but it was put off because people didn’t care that women were being hurt by domestic abuse, that children were being killed by abusive parents. It was only renewed today, and even then it was only renewed without closing the ‘boyfriend loophole.’ Still allowing people to hurt women.” I paused. “Do you understand now?”
“Sure, sure, sure. I understand.” At this point, it was obvious he didn’t want to have this conversation anymore. He obviously didn’t want to hear me say anything else, and was smiling like he was placating me by agreeing. It could not be more condescending.
I threw my hands up. “I give up.” I got up and put my plate in the sink.
“Why do you even care so much?” He asked, just as I was about to leave.
“Why do I care?” I turned back, incredulous. “You did not just ask that.”
“What? I don’t even know why you care.”
I stared at him. “Because this is my reality. This is every woman’s reality. This is our life as a woman. How can I not care?” I didn’t wait for him to answer. “Tell me, have you ever been catcalled on the streets?”
He shrugged, obviously more focused on his food than on me. “No. Have you?” He looked at me with a challenge in his eyes, as if he was daring me to say yes.
“Yes. And so have 97% (Safe spaces now 2021) of all women.” (Yes, I did have statistic off the top of my head, especially since this is one that astonished me more than any other I had read about. Most people do not, however, so I have added a citation for those of you who would like to see the source of this statistic to be able to trace. I would also like to say that I did not mention the citation in my conversation with my classmate, I added it in the writing of this piece.)
“Oh yeah? By who?”
“I’m sorry? How would I know? The literal definition of catcalling is being verbally harassed by a stranger!”
“Yeah, well, so have I.”
“What?”
“A stranger once whistled at me, too, on the street.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. He was smiling and joking, treating all of this like it was some sort of joke.
I didn’t know what to say. I still don’t know what to say. All I could say was: “You know that’s not what I meant. I don’t know why you treat this like a joke, but I really am very disappointed in you.”
He called after me: “Well, you’re not my mom, so I don’t give a damn if you’re disappointed or not!”
“No, I’m not, but…” Only I will ever know what I had to say next, because right then, he, in an incredibly immature move, placed his hands over his ears and started singing “LA LA LA LA LA” loudly, refusing to listen to anything else I had to say.
As I walked away, I could hear him saying to my friend: “I don’t even know why she wants to talk about this on the dinner table, like honestly, why can’t we just have a good dinner.”
My friend said something back that I couldn’t hear, but it probably wouldn’t be far-fetched to guess that she said something like “she’s just emotional; ignore her.”
I can’t really tell what was more disappointing in this conversation: the fact that he didn’t care, the fact that this is not the first time a conversation went like this, or the fact that I care so much yet wasn’t even able to get him to treat it seriously.
The Me Too movement has spurred another movement since its inception, one aptly named the He for She Movement. Yet sometimes I wonder if perhaps it really is impossible to emphasize with someone if you have never been in their shoes, if you have never felt the feelings they are feeling. I remember a metaphor I saw somewhere once on the Internet that I thought accurately described the female experience, the influencer comparing the feeling of walking home alone at night as a woman to being walking home alone as a man carrying all of his savings in his pocket.
I think it is high time for feminists to start emphasizing the He for She movement. The Me Too movement is powerful, and connects powerful women everywhere. But feminism has never been and will never be solely a female movement. It is a movement for all inequality. It is a symbol. So long as gender inequality exists, society can never have racial equality, or any other form of equality, because so long as women are objectified, are denied their rights, are causally dismissed, so will other minorities. It is only when we open our minds to all forms and conditions of equality will we ever truly have a society where every human being is equal.
Citations:
Safe spaces now. UN Women UK. (2021, November 22). Retrieved February 10, 2022, from https://www.unwomenuk.org/safe-spaces-now
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