My first week of job training has officially been completed! I survived! It wasn't terrible at all, in fact I really enjoyed it but I am definitely happy it's over; it was a really heavy week.
I am starting to work for a women's domestic violence shelter in the area and in order to begin working, I had to complete a certain number of hours of training. I am officially now a Sexual Assault Advocate and a Mandated Reporter. It's a little heavy knowing now that I have these responsibilities- essentially 24/7- but it's a good burden to carry.
Training condensed a lot of information into a short 24 hours and at the end of each day, we spent the last 15 minutes devising a strategy for ourselves to 'self-care' and decompress from the day. Easier said than done. The first 3 days were fine for me and then on the last day, I left training feeling very... angry.
We had spent that day discussing sexual assault and childhood sexual assault. We then discussed safety planning and how women who have left a domestic violence situation need to prepare themselves. Some preparations included switching supermarkets, parking in different areas, changing bank accounts... And I thought about how predictable my routine is. I am at Target at least once a week. I am addicted to frozen yogurt and am there at least once a week. I coupon at the same CVS on the regular. I am a creature of habit.
Why did this particular moment in our training make me so angry? We had discussed so many more intense subjects and yet this safety planning discussion was the one that stuck with me the most.
I think the reason was that I reached a boiling point. I was just so... pissed. Why should the woman have to change where she shops? Where she parks? Why can't we simply tell the man to stop hitting his wife?!!?
Is it really that complicated?
Apparently, yes it is. And it made me think of male privilege and all the times I have felt so uncomfortable or violated by men in my life. About all the times I am walking, minding my own business, and a man passes me and smacks his lips at him. About all the men who feel the need to tell me "You're a pretty girl, why don't you give me a smile?". About all the times I felt the uncomfortable touch in a bus or a metro train. And it angers me.
I am educated. I have traveled the world. I read books that (sometimes) don't have pictures in them.
And even if I did none of the above, the same is true: JUST BECAUSE I AM A WOMAN, YOU DO NOT HAVE THE RIGHT TO DEMEAN ME AND TREAT ME AS IF I AM JUST ON THIS PLANET FOR YOUR SHEER ENTERTAINMENT OR PLEASURE.
I DO NOT owe you anything. Not a smile, not a response to your inane questions or pick-up lines. Nothing.
You see how I went from 0 to 60 there?
And it is exactly how I feel. Why do I need to change the way I dress? To make sure my skirt is long enough, my boobs are tucked in enough, my make-up is not too dark.... Why can't you just control yourself and treat me like... a human being? This is not such a revolutionary concept, but unfortunately today- in the year 2012- we still need to be reiterating this.
So if you ever see me on the street walking one day, and I look angry or upset, don't ask me for a smile because chances are you are the reason why I am not smiling in the first place.
