Passive voice is commonly and protectively used when we talk about our experiences of sexist or sexual violation. It’s a very effective deflecting strategy whether used by politicians to evade responsibility or by women when we try to name what has happened to us. I’ve recently read the feminist dystopia “Native Tongue” set in a world where the U.S. has repealed the 19th Amendment, which was maybe a little too close to home to read this year. The author Suzette Haden Elgin does a wonderful job of exploring a community of female linguists who create a language for themselves because words engendered in patriarchal societies cannot express the ways in which girls and women experience the world. It’s fascinating how having that language available to them transforms the women themselves.
The daily violations and micro-aggressions that women endure are a symptom of a much bigger problem of hatred for and violence against women usually perpetrated by men influenced by a culture of toxic masculinity. Every now and then, there are individual or groups of men who tackle male violence but, as with any movement, the trick is in sustaining momentum. Joe Biden has done a lot to highlight the horrendous sexual violence against women on college campuses, and I admire his letter to the amazing young woman who survived and triumphed over the vicious yet pathetic Stanford rapist. However, I recall Biden’s role in the Anita Hill hearings, which makes him partially responsible for preventing a full exploration of Clarence Thomas’s behavior toward other women over whom he had power. This must not be forgotten because violence against all women matters, not just white women.
It can be extremely frustrating to have to frame arguments to placate and motivate the more powerful sex. With the efforts republicans made to distinguish themselves from Trump last fall, for example, I was frustrated that the best they could muster as argument was the old “I have a daughter” dodge: “I have a daughter so I think rape is bad.” (No, really?) Or, “As a father, I care about this issue,” which carries the implication of male primacy (if I did not experience a father’s feelings, I would not care about sexual assault) and also harks back to the patriarchal notion that rape is a crime against whichever male owns or is responsible for the “damaged” girl or woman. That being said, we won’t improve as a species until we can feel in the abstract, for people we don’t know personally but care for because they are suffering human beings deserving of our compassion.