“Hope you don’t think boogeymen are the only abusers…it’s niggas” – Jay – Z (kinda)
I have conversations with a friend of mine about gender inequality almost everyday. But seeing as how she’s typically 100 percent correct, I don’t argue back valid points as much as spew back juvenile thoughts that end up displaying just how conditioned I’ve allowed myself to become.
To quote Shawn Carter: “I could blame my environment but, ain’t no reason why I be…” A mixed cocktail of male supremacy, rape culture, hypermasculinity, ghetto culture, victim blaming, victim shaming and a host of other problematic views helped shape me. In this regard I am not alone. I’d imagine most black males who grew up in places like I did, on the west side of Gary, Indiana, have been conditioned in the same way.
Luckily and stubbornly I’ve learned better. This piece is an attempt to start doing better.
Naturally the tragic story of Kenneka Jenkins has been heavy in our conversations this week. For the record, as I write this, no details have been confirmed by authorities other than her death.
We can only hope the truth is revealed promptly, but the response by many to what is perceived to have taken place is beyond disheartening. Whatever doubts I had about the existence of rape culture and male absolvement were put to bed the second I logged into Facebook on Monday afternoon.
The first post I read brought up a code subscribed to by many, a drunk code if you will: never leave your drunk or inebriated friends for any reason. “If we came together we leaving together,” one post said. I had no clue what the post was referencing until clicking the ‘Justice for Kenneka hashtag.
Searching the hashtag on Twitter and Facebook revealed a seemingly never ending barrage of tweets and statuses, most of which directed at either Kenneka’s friends (who were allegedly partying with Kenneka only to end up leaving the hotel with Kenneka’s car and cell phone but no Kenneka) or at Kenneka herself for selecting them as friends.
Admittedly, these suggestions didn’t bother me at first. I agreed with them in fact. I mean after all, how could choosing friends wisely be bad advice? It’s what I’d tell my daughter if I had one. But after a bit more scrolling I finally came across confirmation that Kenneka was dead, found in a freezer and assumed to be raped and murdered beforehand.
Once the element of rape and murder entered the conversation — whether true or not, I felt troubled by the overflow of victim blaming. Even still I was fighting my own urges to do the same. To believe that had better decision making by Kenneka could have somehow prevented the outcome. In this particular situation though, criticism of the friends is somewhat plausible as they are assumed to, at the worst, have had a hand in the cover-up, and at the very least, according to Kenneka’s mom, not have been fully truthful or forthcoming with details regarding Kenneka’s disappearance.
Still, I was quite surprised to see such little public angst towards the males whom they believed to be rapists and/or murderers in the situation.
The question I originally faced myself with was what would I tell my daughter so that she might avoid such a situation. That eventually transitioned into what I would tell my son. I have this problem with thinking everyone automatically knows right from wrong particularly when it comes to sexual consent. I, mistakenly, assume all guys seek enthusiastic consent as avidly as I do.
Statistics certainly disprove that.
In this sense, by shaping my view of rape culture around the fact I don’t rape or assault, is there any difference between me and the white moderates I so often criticize for not denouncing the racist acts of their fellow caucasians? Isn’t their refusal to acknowledge what infuriates us most in our racism conversations with whites? T?
When black women call black men terrorists of the black community, my first reaction is defensiveness. I auto pilot into my feelings and argue up a storm but the simple fact is we are. But rape culture is a global issue that transcends race, culture and nationality.
The largest problem with rape culture is that as a whole, we’re convinced it doesn’t exist. In fact, we vehemently argue against it. Problems must be identified before they can be solved. Many steps must be taken.
Here’s a simple one to start with.
1. Name the real problems: Violent masculinity and victim-blaming. These are the cornerstones of rape culture and they go hand in hand. When an instance of sexual assault makes the news and the first questions the media asks are about the victim’s sobriety, or clothes, or sexuality, we should all be prepared to pivot to ask, instead, what messages the perpetrators received over their lifetime about rape and about “being a man.” Here’s a tip: the right question is not, “What was she doing/wearing/saying when she was raped?” The right question is, “What made him think this is acceptable?” Sexual violence is a pervasive problem that cannot be solved by analyzing an individual situation. Learn 50 key facts about domestic violence. Here’s one: the likelihood that a woman will die a violent death increases 270% once a gun is present in the home Remember, a violent act is not a tragic event done by an individual or a group of crazies. Violence functions in society as” a means of asserting and securing power.”