I am a Resident Assistant in Brett Hall on the College Ave campus, and as an RA I believe my job is not only to protect my residents and keep them involved but engage with them in a mutual experience of social education and self-awareness. Recently I made a bulletin board on manspreading, which is the practice of taking up a lot of space on public transport so as to cover more than one seat. The bulletin board focused not just on manspreading, but on other ways privileged people take up space. It’s important to note that people are privileged according to their race, gender, sexuality, religion, ability, citizenship, class, language, and age, and they can take up space in multiple ways. For example, as a woman, men as the privileged majority have taken up physical space by expecting me to move out of their way when I walk down the sidewalk, and as a white person, I as the privileged majority have taken up intellectual space by hogging talking time in the classroom.
On the bulletin board, I stapled a New York Times article from last December about the MTA’s ad campaign against manspreading. The board was meant to be an exercise in thinking about privilege and things we can do to counteract privilege, so when I saw that within 24 hours someone had stapled to the board this Newsday article about how women manspread too, I was initially disappointed. The student who put that article up seemed to be missing my point completely – that manspreading is a problem because it is a way privileged people (men) take up space out of a sense of entitlement, whether it is conscious or not. Yes, women may take up space on public transportation, but in a lower frequency and with more willingness to move when they see someone needs a seat – at least in my experience. Surely we can differentiate between being a privileged asshole and a general human asshole. But the Newsday article had successfully made me think about privilege, just as the board had intended to do. Is it counterproductive to label the behavior of imposing one’s privileged body in a public space as specifically male? Is the term “manspreading” inherently an act of calling out, instead of calling in (which is what RAs are supposed to do)?
Language matters, as any social experience will tell you. The words we use have a very particular meaning, not just in their denotation but in their connotation as well. For example, if I reference “the n-word,” you know I am not talking about “nitrogen” or “Nickelback” but an offensive racial slur. If I speak about a transgender person using their incorrect pronouns, I am ignoring their identity in a harmful way. Language can have negative repercussions, depending on how it’s used. I think Zoe Jewel has a point when she writes for The Guardian, saying that the term “manspreading” unnecessarily genders the issue. “Manspreading” implies that the action of spreading your legs is unfeminine, reinforcing the gender dichotomy – something we are currently learning how to deconstruct. After all, sexism harms all people, some in more visible ways than others. Yet without the naming of an issue, we cannot process it, comment on it, and react to it.
Another important question the Newsday article made me consider was whether arguing about language is where we should be spending our energy. Yes, the term “manspreading” is problematic, but does that knowledge help us address these acts of physical intimidation or teach us how to challenge privilege? Furthermore, it may be important to recognize entitled acts of space-taking as privileged and wrong, but are there more pressing issues we should be focusing on? “Manspreading” may just be a first world white feminist problem, one someone like me has the time to write an article on because I don’t face threats of sterilization or genital mutilation on a daily basis. Within my own marginalization as a woman, I must remain cognizant of my various privileges as a white, educated, healthy American.
What I want my residents to take away from the “manspreading” bulletin board is the habit of self-examination. In committing to social justice, we must commit to the continuous education of how we are oppressed and how we participate in the oppression of others. We must be aware of the language we use and how it affects others. We must also be open to being wrong, moving past defensiveness, and understanding how we can be better in the future. As an RA, I only hope that my residents will continue to participate in these conversations, whether in larger contexts or on their hall bulletin board.