There’s something I don’t like about the phrase “rape culture.”  It’s not that I think it doesn’t exist or that I want to turn a blind eye to the problem.  Rather, I feel like it is a misnomer that breeds confusion and skeptism.  Rape culture is not just about rape.  In fact, most of the time it is not.  It is about objectifying women.  Objectifying of women can lead to rape, but more often it appears in the form of  little acts of disrespect and harassment that strip a woman of her feeling of humanity.

I think a lot of people don’t realize how much these sorts of dehumanizing experiences can affect a person… especially if they’ve never been the target of one. But they shouldn’t be minimized, even if they never escalate. People seem to think that sexual harassment is “no big deal” so long as it doesn’t culminate in rape. “You got catcalled? Groped at a party? Leered at by a gang of guys on the street? Get over it… it’s not like you were raped. Boys will be boys, right? Stop being so uptight.” Talk like this needs to STOP. Harassment is not a little thing. Here’s one of my own stories to illustrate.

I was on the train on New Years Eve in Germany, heading home from a party. Obviously, there was likely to be plenty of drunks out and about, but I was going home before midnight, so I felt pretty safe. Plus, I am usually confident in myself and my ability to control an adverse situation. The train was almost entirely empty, but a young man came up to me and started trying to speak to me in German. My German is not very good, but I could marginally communicate with his slurring accent. He kept saying “I think you’re really pretty” and “I like you”. I could guess where this was going, but I just said “okay” coolly, ready to rebuff any advances. “Will you give me a Silvester kiss?” he asked before long. I told him flatly “no. I don’t want to. I am not interested. I do not like you,” all in clear German. He kept negotiating. “But I like you. Come on, it’s New Years Eve. Why not? Why don’t you want a kiss? I think you’re pretty.” I was getting angry. Since when did me being pretty obligate me to kiss anyone? How dare he treat me like I was being a frigid bitch just because he wanted something I was not willing to give him?

He finally fell silent for a while and I thought perhaps he had gotten the message. I was staring straight ahead, hoping my stop would come soon, when he reached his arm around me and tried to reach down the neck of my shirt. I grabbed his hand before he could sneak his feel and jumped up from my seat with a loud “NO”. I was furious now, and a tiny bit scared. I hadn’t thought that he would actually try to force something on me, even if it was a weak attempt. Memories of a close-call with rape from a so-called friend 10 months before flashed through my head. I suddenly felt upset with myself for letting the situation happen to me, as if it was somehow my responsibility to prevent promiscuous men from approaching me. I stood a few feet away, keeping an eye on my backpack that I had left on the seat beside him in my haste to move away. I told him again that I don’t want anything to do with him and he’d better leave me alone. I was speaking English now because I was too pissed to think in German. Being unable to communicate well left me feeling even more out of control, but as I sized him up, I was relieved at least that I was pretty confident I was stronger than he was.

My stop finally arrived and I stepped forward carefully and took my backpack. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Will you shake my hand?” I stood uncertainly for a moment, certain that this was a trap. But it flashed through my mind: “if I were a man, would I be scared to shake this man’s hand?” I knew the answer was no, and that pissed me off enough to brace myself and impulsively offer my hand. He seized it and started to drag me forward, reaching for my face to try to force a kiss on me. I was prepared though, and I planted my feet, grabbed onto his shirt with both hands, and threw him back into his seat. It turned out I was stronger after all. I flipped him off and turned and stalked off of the train.

In the end, I wanted to feel triumphant for having humiliated him. But I didn’t feel triumphant. I felt dirty and embarrassed and angry. “I should have punched him,” I thought. “Then he would have REALLY gotten the message.” And then the even uglier voice started: “I should have avoided the situation entirely. I shouldn’t have let a young man sit next to me on the train. I shouldn’t have talked to strange men. I should have come up with a stronger way to say ‘no’. I should have found a way to project my disinterestedness before he even talked to me. I shouldn’t have been on the train on New Years Eve alone. I shouldn’t expect anything better if I put myself in situations where drunk men might see me.”

And that is the worst part. I honestly started feeling like it was my fault that someone couldn’t respect my body and my very-clear wishes. I started feeling like it was justified for men to view me as an object. And that is why it left such an impact on me for the rest of the night and the following days. I was embarrassed to admit the details of what happened when I explained it to my friends because I was afraid that they would tell me “well, what did you expect?” That’s honestly how I felt.  Women should expect to be treated like objects.
It was just a minor incident. I wasn’t hurt, and the drunk idiot didn’t get his kiss in the end. But it still hurt me emotionally and left me feeling conflicted and angry long after I thought I should have gotten over it. That is the terrible impact of a culture that objectifies women… it hurts to be treated like an object.  It hurts to have another human being treat you like your will, humanity, and self is secondary to their momentary desires.  It hurts because that isn’t how we treat people.  It’s how we treat things.

Folks, let’s stop treating harassment like something innocent and harmless and treating victims like they are overreacting for asserting their personhood.  Harassment is serious.  It may not be rape, but anyone who is willing to violate a person’s humanity with their words, is at risk of violating their humanity with their body.  The two things are connected.  That’s why rape culture isn’t just about rape.  It’s about objectifying another.  It needs to stop.