At dinner with friends the other night, I posed the question, "If you could only pick one issue to address for the rest of your life, what would it be?" The responses ranged across continents and species. Questions of economics, ethics and sustainability arose. Finally, after all interests had been professed, my friends turned to me, saying, "Wait Lauren, you asked this, but you haven't answered it."
My answer was short: "I want to work every day of my life to end the sexual abuse of women and girls across the globe." Unlike the group’s responses to previous answers, I was met with an uncomfortable silence. In its wake, I added, “Most obviously by abating the pernicious tide of sex trafficking, working to elevate the social status of women in the developing world and ensuring equal access to education. It’s just really important. And there is nothing I feel more passionately about.”
Despite my efforts to provide ample avenues for responsive inquiry, there was continued silence. Finally, one of my friends who had lived in Southeast Asia for two years said, “Sex trafficking is a huge problem in Cambodia.”
He didn’t quite know how to respond to my statement, but he desired to connect with my passion and to turn my feelings into something relatable for him. Another guy at the table quipped, “Yeah, but it can’t be as big of a problem as saving the elephants.”
Everyone at the table laughed. However, I took the immediate opportunity to say, “Guys, when I bring up issues surrounding gender equality, people frequently respond with jokes. Why is that?”
Another uncomfortable silence ensued, until finally one of my male friends said, “It’s because we’re trying to diffuse tension...and I guess we want to distance ourselves from members of our gender who are in the wrong. By joking about it, we think we’re making it clear that we aren’t that guy.”
Unlike the other social issues placed on the table that night for consideration, the topic of sexual abuse closed many conversational doors. The discussion of sexual abuse rarely invites open dialogue, perhaps because it is something not readily seen or acknowledged — something that happens behind closed doors. The confrontation is unfamiliar and uncomfortable for many who don't know how to grapple with the magnitude of the injustice they feel for the subject.
Surprisingly, when I place such issues on the table and in the light, I am met with a response that is both discrediting and disregarding: humor. I am not talking about malicious jokes or pointed, oppositional replies. I am talking about a very specific kind of humor that I have seen men utilize to distance themselves from the guilty of their gender but nonetheless makes light of something I take very seriously.
After dinner, my friend approached me and apologized for making light of my comment. He admitted that he was not informed enough — or as informed as he felt he should have been — and was therefore not in the position to make a “substantial comment.” I told him simply listening and asking productive questions is the most important thing he can do. I told him instead of learning statistics, he should learn how to ask questions. I believe this is the first step in helping survivors — those seeking a safe space to express heart-breaking frustration — find an ally in their fight.
I understand how difficult it is to engage in discussions on issues one does not feel they can empathize with, but that doesn't mean the conversation should be avoided or the subject should be made light of. Appreciate the passion and investment others place on such issues. If you don't know about them, don't be ashamed to admit it. Ask to be informed and invite others to expound upon their opinions and I assure you they will respond positively.
I believe those who will make headway in this tragically large field are those who have personal experience with the matter and can empathize with victims and survivors. But they can’t do it alone. They need the help of many — especially those who may not have a personal experience related to the subject.
Building this community of activists is difficult and takes time. Many victims don’t want to discuss their feelings or experiences publicly, which is both understandable and completely acceptable. But many do. And they need people willing to listen and hearts ready to be turned to a cause that deserves our utmost attention.
These people deserve our respect, our attention and our open, honest questions that will give them a platform to be heard — the most powerful gift we can give to someone. So, the next time a friend expresses frustration toward a sexist comment or experience, allow yourself to be vulnerable enough to ask questions. Give people the merit their passion deserves, and don’t make light of it — even in the most good-natured way.
Lauren’s column runs biweekly Fridays. She can be reached at l.jackson@cavalierdaily.com.
Read More
Cooking, my mother’s love language
By Emilie Kim | YesterdayDespite our different temperaments, my mother and I understand each other perfectly through the language of food.
A bite of home at Barbie’s Burrito Barn
By Sophie Guettel | 2 days agoBarbie’s Burrito Barn is more than just a restaurant — it is a testament to the dreams and hard work of its owner.
The fluffiest Swedish coffee bread
By Finn Trainer | 3 days agoWith its semi-sweet flavor and cloud-like texture, this Swedish coffee bread is a calming, delicious treat to enjoy this finals season.
