Privilege and the Victimized Man

This post will be fairly long and likely pretty dramatic. So, fair warning.

Hello all, I am a man, 23 years of age, in Colorado. This summer I decided to take my first Women’s Studies course. I am on the ground floor, I guess you could say, of this grand structure that is feminism. I have relished the learning experience. I have taken comfort in thought and there is so much thought to be had in this experience.

But I am facing some conflicts. I’m not exactly sure where I fit in with this movement. I am the spitting image of privilege. White, male, upper-middle class (dad’s a doctor), college-bound. There is the obvious fact that I can’t really know what it’s like to be a woman in this culture, but the readings for this class have thrown more and bigger wrenches into the works. Recently we read a speech that the venerable Andrea Dworkin gave to a "Men’s Movement" in the early 80’s (link ) in which she, in no uncertain terms, places the blame for all sexual assaults at the feet of men like myself, particularly the "sensitive and aware" ones. She contends that our bad feelings are evasions, and the continuation of our current culture is evidence enough of our failure to commit to doing the right thing.

I think a lot of men would balk when faced with rhetoric like this. A lot of women would as well. But I was receptive of it, to a point. I have intensely connected with this class, moreso than any other class I have ever taken. I have even considered switching my major to WS (a thought my friends and family and even I find somewhat ridiculous, but it’s really appealing to me) and I have always put a great deal of stock in the idea of moral truth. When I read Dworkin’s piece I recognized that moral truth instantly.

But there is a problem beyond the immediate concern of how exactly I can utilize this knowledge. In her speech Dworkin delineates a clear distinction between those who directly victimize or are complicit in victimization through inaction (white, upper-class het males like myself) and those who are victimized (women). On a gut level this makes sense. But I find that I am unrepresented and unfairly denigrated by this paradigm, and not because of any indignance I might feel as someone being called out. Rather, when I was a young boy I was taken advantage of sexually. It has been a very integral part of my identity for a long time and since I’ve begun this course I’ve struggled with it on a daily basis.

And so I have a difficulty figuring out where I fit in, in this conception of the privileged versus the exploited. I certainly feel more exploited than I feel privileged, but the line is drawn. Reading the speech transcript was a powerful trigger. Dworkin says, in effect, that by virtue of my having the identity I do, I am complicit in sexual assault. I made the not-very-short leap from being complicit in the vast, terrible world of sexual assault to my own, and I was reminded of those times as a child when I was challenged by others and asked why I did not fight for myself. Now not only should I have fought for myself then, I should be fighting for everyone now .

I want to say that Dworkin is wrong, honestly, but I don’t think I can. Were she alive I would write her and ask her to be more inclusive in her language, but even if she was, even if she had been then, the problem that I have would still be evident. I was born with much power, yes, and much privilege. But I feel as though that was taken from me. I don’t feel like a man, I despair at the thought of being one. I know what it represents at its core, I know what it is, I’ve been on the receiving end of it.

So I endeavored for a short time to allow myself to cast off the identity of "man", to be something different. But I realized as I read the speech that this was ultimately an evasion of the problem, an easy , meaningless gesture to make myself for my own benefit rather than for the Good. Dworkin speaks of how self-serving a man’s pain is, and I recognized that. I could no more wash my hands of rape by renouncing masculinity than a plantation owner could wash his hands of slavery by refusing to participate in it. I can’t choose who I am. I can’t extricate myself from my culture to spare myself. And every minute I am failing, and people are hurting in far worse ways than I ever have.

But I can’t get over it. I can’t accept my complicity in my heart, I can’t accept my commonality with the boys in my old neighborhood. I want to run away from it. I want to exercise the fullest extent of my privilege and forget it and pretend as though living a vaguely decent life absolves me. I feel as though it is unfair. Even when I’m ruined on the inside I have to carry this. I have to swallow my agony and act as though I am powerful. I have never felt powerful. But I have never wanted for anything, either. And that’s the rub of my situation. I am given a choice here. I can do what I am asked to do, and take the bitter pill and accept my blame and struggle as I’m needed, and this bleeding wound I have may tear and it may kill me as I’ve always feared it would. Or I could remain where I am, safe and comfortable in my narcissism, and distance myself from my experience and wrap myself in privilege.

I feel trapped, but honestly I think "trapped" is a place where more people like me ought to be. I feel like if I hadn’t been assaulted I wouldn’t even be considering these options, I’d simply ignore the problem. That’s what privilege really allows, I think, the luxury of ignorance. I feel the same pain as so many amazing women in my life have, I feel like I see through the same eyes. I can’t ignore anything. I feel like I’m being forced into a tunnel that is far smaller than I am.

So that’s where I find myself, more or less. Perhaps things will become clearer in the future but for the moment this all seems quite impossible. I feel like I have to do something but I’m not sure what that is going to be.

I suppose that is an inordinate amount of complaining on my part, but I think this beats a journal and honestly I think it might help to get feedback, even if it is from the Internet.