Ryan Hadeed
In my last column, I recounted an argument I had with my father over a questionable post I made on Facebook. One might think that the whole experience would have taught me a lesson and encouraged me to choose my words more carefully in the future. Alas, clearly I'm a "harden chile" because a week later, another of my posts stoked the ire of one of my parents. This time, however, it was my mother, and she called to give me an earful. In the offending post, I referred to American reality-television star Kim Kardashian as an "attention whore". Anyone who knows me is well aware of my brutally honest and very public loathing of this clan of socialites. What my mother took umbrage with was my use of the word 'whore'. I explained that in this context it describes a person who craves attention to such an extent that they will do anything to receive it.
"But still," she said, "it's not a nice word." The conversation ended with me being condescending, stating that I'm an adult, and then immaturely adding: "It's my wall and I can post whatever I want." As it turned out, this conversation would come back to haunt me and became relevant on a more personal level. My brutal honesty and public loathing have also been squarely trained on Donald Trump's presidential bid.
Recently, his campaign suffered a major public relations disaster with the release of a previously unknown recording. In it, he made some extremely distasteful comments about women and alluded to his aggressive sexual habits. It caused a major setback in his attempt to win support among the important demographic of female voters.
Within hours of the broadcast, Trump made a televised statement, offering a seemingly insincere apology. During the second US presidential debate, when the question was posed to him about the inflammatory content, he tried to minimise it by calling it locker room talk. It's left to be seen what effect it will have on his character and electability.
However, this occurrence, combined with the larger implications involving women, caused me to seriously reflect on my own (past) words and admit that they haven't always been congenial when referring to the opposite sex. Before I go any farther, I need to be clear about a few things. Firstly, I have never, neither with words or actions, engaged in or advocated sexual violence or assault. My comments are nowhere in the same realm as Trump's. If his are X-rated, mine are PG-13. Secondly, I am not speaking on behalf of all men, only about my own experiences. Have I been privy to 'locker room talk'? Yes. Have I ever participated? Sadly, the answer is also yes.
I'm not going to make the blanket declaration that all men do it, but the fact is that it does happen when women are not around. I've told a crude joke or two, and a number of my Facebook posts have even been called offensive. In fact, one such post resulted in me being called a scumbag by a founder of the local feminist group Womantra. While the insult may have been deserved, I've never allowed political correctness to dissuade me from an opportunity to combine vulgarity with humour.
However, in light of the Donald's 'Tapegate' scandal, I spent recent days wondering why I said such things and, more importantly, why I thought it was acceptable to do so.
In the age of gender equality and women's lib, both of which I support, I still choose to act like a gentleman when in the company of a lady–I open doors, I walk closest to the curb, and I get up from my seat as a sign of respect. That is because I was raised in a wholesome family with positive male role models and these are behaviours I was taught as I came into manhood. Despite that, when with the "fellas" I usually join in when the discussion turns to women and sex. The irony is, as an academic, I would rather be talking about history or politics than equate a woman's physical attributes to a KFC order of legs, thighs, and breasts. So why do I do it? As clich�d as it sounds, it's simply because I want to be accepted by the group, to prove that I'm one of them by putting my masculinity on display for the ubiquitous cheers and high-fives of approval.
Therein lies the problem. This mentality of casual sexism is so pervasive that our young men, at some point in their lives, will be inescapably exposed and possibly drawn into it. A lewd comment may not have an insidious desire to go along with it, but what locker room talk does is insult the character of the man who makes it in the first place. This isn't about taking a stand for women, but about men standing up for themselves. As sons, brothers, husbands, fathers, and mentors, we need to speak out against what defies common decency.
So my mother was right–I could have articulated my pointed without the use of a demeaning term. Instead of offering up an apology for past callousness, I will make a personal promise to be better, to respect women with my private words just as I would with public deeds. And I challenge my peers to do the same.