I blocked my stalker! (Internet Harassment and Street Harassment: two sides of rape culture)

About a month ago I met this guy on a stall where I was volunteering. We started talking and I could see we had a lot in common: migrants, activists, idealists. As the conversation evolved, we added each other on facebook. I thought he was a little OTT while narrating his roles and achievements in Ireland, but nothing to be worried about. Besides, I usually like to self-reflect whenever I think someone is making me uncomfortable, because that might just stem from something I find nasty about my own personality. You know. People = Mirrors. 

But then, I invited him and the whole bunch to join me in another activists' assembly. A different cause, but also related to human rights. Nobody could make it in the end, but he did. In the meeting, he began with the whole showing off stunt again, and I was definitely annoyed by them. My friend noticed that he was, indeed, strange and OTT. Meeting over, he decided to walk me home, since that was also the way to his address. As we stopped in front of my house, he appeared to be willing to get in, and I soon dismissed him saying that my place was a mess, that I'd invite him for coffee some other time, you know, NOT NOW. He was standing there trying to continue the conversation and I was massively disturbed, so I just got in and literally banged the door on his face. 

Next morning, early morning, he called me. I felt a gelid wind go up and down my spine, and decided not to pick up the phone. Then, he texted me on facebook. I replied, don't know what exactly, but always trying to keep friendliness in mind. I thought he was just being plain annoying, and that maybe he was only excited to have a new friend. I honestly relate to that feeling. You know, being a migrant, one of the first things you realize when you're away from your home country is how hard it is to make and keep new friends. As we apparently come from similar backgrounds (we are both non-white people from the Global South), I thought it could be just a natural reaction of enthusiasm. 

So I tried my best to bear with him. Like, he kept on calling for days, and I would never pick up the phone. I would, if I honestly thought he was worthy of a conversation. The anticipation of that guy going on about his achievements as an activist in Ireland made me cringe every time my phone rang. So I never picked it. I thought he would just get the message across and leave me alone. Now, there is definitely that part of me that sees myself in his actions. And I hate it. Like, I acknowledge that I too am annoying. I realize the cultural dimension of the whole "let's be friends" thing. I'm slowly learning the "Western" way, which means: keep some distance. I think I made many people cringe whenever I came across them. But you know, I realize things soon enough. And I leave people alone. I feel ashamed that I disturbed them, even though I don't think I am that level of 'too much'. After all, I've been socialized into being self-conscious at all times, and even if my culture allows for more openness, I do get back to my state of feeling inconvenient and that is good for my survival here, as I end up getting in the shell again.

Although his calls became sparse, he never really got it completely. We would chat sometimes on fb. I mean, often times I ignored him completely, but other times I just made an effort to be nice and diplomatic. Like the other day when he invited me for some seminary. I replied that I was occupied with something else, and thanked for the invitation. Never really said 'hey, but let's meet some other time'. So the other day he tried to start a conversation and I was totally not in mood for it. I couldn't, even. So I just left his "hi, how are you" hanging there, without response. 

Inside my mind, however, I always tried to be compassionate and understanding. Because I saw myself reflected in his actions. Even though I eyed the worst part of me, I did try to acknowledge and just forgive and be understanding. Sometimes we just don't realize we are being annoying. Sometimes we just don't realize we are being nosy, invasive. Sometimes we get a little attention and we are used to getting so little that we think we can overindulge in that tiny gap people give us to express whatever it is that we wish to say. It happened to me, countless times. I was lucky enough to get a few friends who sort of get it, and they set their boundaries and I am fine with that because I realize that I TOO AM IRRITATING. Some people "can't even" with me, and I took their "can't even" as an opportunity to learn and grow as a human being.

But then, there is this guy. What is it exactly that made him not realize that I wasn't keen on interacting? I mean, I gave clear signals that I did not want to deepen our friendship (never picked up the phone, sparse and short replies on fb, can't we all agree those are signs that someone is not really that interested?). Well, it really puzzles me, and I cannot fathom of any explanation other than male entitlement. Am I saying he was trying to flirt me? Not really. I don't know his intentions. I honestly believe he was just excited to have a new friend, and as I explained above, I do understand and relate to that feeling. However, when I think of his actions and compare them to mine, I do feel it boils down to our socialization into gender roles. 

Again, as I explained, I too have overwhelmed people in the past. Talking to my therapist, I came to learn that I'm not alone in this. However, what I find really disturbing in this story is the fact that I usually realize soon enough (for instance, if someone doesn't reply to my messages I just leave it there) whereas he didn't. Considering his background, which I don't think it's appropriate to expose here (hint: it involves religion), I think it is fair enough to conclude that he only did that out of a feeling that he had the absolute right to do so. I do not think it is a mere coincidence that men account for the majority of stalkers. I believe gender does play a role in that, but it appears to me that society is reluctant to point to that factor. 

So I think this is it: I felt stalked. Trust me, for me to say that I felt stalked, things were really getting out of hand. I think I'm extremely cool in that respect. I am generally unassuming and my level of tolerance is way higher than most of my friends'. I think there is a cultural element to that, as well. Now that I live in the West, I realize the stereotype that Latinos are very passionate is not altogether wrong. That can convert in the way we see relationships, and I'm well aware that what is little to me may be too much to most of my (Western, usually white) friends. So yes, even with all the societal constructs in mind, I felt stalked. And intimidated. And unsafe. 

Last evening, the last straw finally hit me. I went online and saw there was a message. When I looked at it, I couldn't really believe what he was saying: "Your cover photo is hilarious one… reminds me about you :D". I took a moment staring at that word. Hilarious. I looked at my cover picture and saw absolutely nothing hilarious about it. In fact, I only decided to go for it because to me it is beautiful, artistic and serious. Not even in my wildest dreams could I ever have conceived of the image I paste below as hilarious. 

So I just asked him: "Hilarious?" 

And he gave me the answer: "Bitch in the shower - lol! ;)" "Funny picture :D" 

Driven by a sense of complete disbelief and powerlessness, I went ahead and blocked him. I managed to take a screenshot of the interaction, but now I regret that I did not capture all conversations. I mean, they weren't that many, but there was that one when he came to my inbox to give me feedback on a video I'd shared. It is basically a contemporary dance video I love. I feel it is about the struggles involved in relationships. He saw it as explicit sex. I thought it was down to his own worldview, and tried not to bother much, then. Now I realize I should have blocked him straight away, instead of just waiting for things to escalate this way. 

But yeah, that's what happened. After I blocked him, he came up with a second profile (????) to give me an 'explanation', which reads "The picture was sexy. But I was joking as a friend. I was not flirting. I think there is a misunderstanding. Good night friend :)". To which I replied "you are not my friend. Please don't talk to me again". And then I blocked this second profile as well. But at that point, I was feeling intimidated and unsafe again. So I decided to deactivate my account. I didn't do that with a detox in mind. I did that because I was afraid he would pop again and be inconvenient again. Isn't this terrible? Isn't this exactly what men are used to doing while harassing women on the streets?

Now, I understand he was telling the truth: this is not about flirting. Who on Earth would think this is flirting, anyhow? It is clearly about making the other person uncomfortable. It is clearly about power. I would easily place his actions on the same category as street harassment, which is something that has nothing to do with flirting and courtship. It is about power, about putting women in their place. When he made a comment about my cover picture, he wasn't really being my "friend". He probably thought that since I posted something 'sexy', I'm out there to take shit. That puts me automatically in the category of the 'whore', because if I expose myself that way, then I should obviously acquiesce to his nasty remarks. 

Well. I don't really know what else to say and this text is long enough, so let me leave you with my questions: Why can't we just move beyond hierarchy and treat everyone, I mean EVERYONE, with kindness and respect? Why is it that he saw me as not respectable enough in order to go ahead with his sick comments? Why do we still insist on hierarchizing women this way, deeming them as deserving respect or not according to their capacity to keep silent and hide themselves? How does the public/private divide normalizes rape culture? What does the 'perfect victim' narrative tell about our whole culture, a culture where disrespect towards those outside the norm is, unfortunately, a given? 

Was I 'asking for it' when I posted that picture?

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Irish Pubs

Getting ready to meet friends. After a long battle in front of the mirror to get her eyeliner right, she is finally set to go. Her lips lustrous with magenta, her face under layers of makeup to appear 'natural' and confident, her hair particularly having a bad day, but that wouldn't deter the fun, anyway. 

Before leaving home, a last glance at the mirror, one final chance to give up on the whole deed. No more isolation, she says to herself. I should go out and have fun. Remember, surrounding yourself with people is a good way to keep the ball rolling and away from depression. 

And so she goes, a heart filled with optimism and a mind tainted by hesitation. She knew there was nothing really wrong with aiming to be around people, yet the feeling of inadequacy appeared to be an impending nightmare she was soon to push to the very back of her head. 

At the pub she meets her friends. They talk, dance, drink, have fun. She is not really used to drinking, but the new experience feels just fine to her. As far as she could recollect, she was really young when she'd completely given up on alcohol. Well, the situation has changed, all thanks to Ireland and its Guinness awesomeness. 

The black liquid tastes very strong, but she finds it delicious. She feels way too modest to go for a full pint, though. It's usually little by little, mainly for a reason: as she is not used to drinking, the process is rather slow. And the beer is no longer chilled after a few minutes, so she'd rather have small glasses. People love pulling her legs over those half pints. She feels funny, but never angry, as this is some very light and friendly mockery, after all. 

The lady is always happy when she's around friends. It feels comfortable and familiar. Yet, pubs are those kind of places she struggles the most with, in order to be at ease with herself. There is something inherently sad about this experience, she thinks. There is nothing more fulfilling than being around her dear ones, but nothing feels more awkward than standing here, now. Maybe I should just leave? 

But she didn't. Instead, she's looking around, feeling sort of amused. So many different people who also appear to be exhaling sameness. She ain't bored - no. Trying to find stories behind all those laughters, she begins a genuine appreciation of human interaction. Look, that guy, he looks just like Thomas Müller. Except that he is shorter? Maybe he gets annoyed when people tell him that. He seems to be having good craic with his pal, though. 

Anyway. She is now eyeing a girl's carmine hair. Ain't she fabulous? I love it that many girls here get this hair color. It's not so common in Brazil. I heard it's hard and expensive to maintain, though. As Scarlet moves away from that smoking patio, the lady looks around, trying to find someone else to observe from afar. The general scene feels loud and slightly overwhelming to her. That's when a friendly voice of a stranger cuts through her random thoughts. 

Yer doing it wrong. 

What am I doing wrong? 

Yer not supposed to drink while chewing gum. 

She laughs. He laughs back at her. As he walks away, another voice reaches out to her.

Where are you from? 

Brazil. 

Oh! I am so sorry. 

Oh don't be, she says, and looks around, trying to spot her friends. It's funny how <where are you from> is the first question everyone asks her in pubs. She then gets ready to answer to the next standard query. 

And what brings you to Galway? 

She takes a deep breath. While exhaling, her whole tale of disempowerment springs to mind and the lady, as usual, decides to keep it short. 

Women's studies. 

Interesting. And what do you do in that field? 

She goes on about gender, globalisation and human rights. If only she knew what's to come next, she would probably have kept things even shorter. Like, what brings you to Ireland? English. End of story. Yeah, she should probably stick to language. Better than housewife-ing, anyway. 

He asks her name, and it sounds pretty entertaining to him. I will probably never remember your name, he says. I will remember yours because it's quite simple, she replies, looking around, trying to find someone else to observe. The conversation with the not-so-stranger-anymore appears to be kicking in. 

He seems nice, she thinks, oblivious to the fact that no white man has ever been really kind to her. It usually goes on like: oh, this conversation is very interesting! Up until she starts feeling like a peacock being observed at a zoo. That's when things get a bit more complicated, because she tries to be understanding of the fact that she does look exotic after all. She gets reminded of how dutch men get celebrated in her family, and even laughs at the memory. 

But girl, make no mistake. You may be laughing, but it's not the same thing. The Dutch back home get confetti thrown at them simply because they are perceived as somewhat superior. You, my friend, are a sample of the second sex - prone to objectification - and also a genuine (black) representative of the third world - susceptible to exotification. In the interest of survival, she usually dismisses the reality check, though, and just laughs with people. 

So that night, that's what she did. She laughed, and she laughed. 

Can I touch your hair? 

Well, at least he's asking before touching it. *Laughs* 

Your hair is beautiful. The springs feel so soft, and... obedient. Look, it stays right where I left it! That's amazing! 

*Laughs* 

Your hair is the perfect frame for your face. 

*Laughs* 

You are very pretty. 

Thank you. *Laughs* 

So pretty that I am horny right now. 

Her eyes widen, and words fail her. So she laughs. 

And laughs, and laughs, and goes away. 

In the comfort of her bed, she promises herself, probably for the millionth time, that she will never set foot in a pub again. Someone once said that Brazilians are great craic. Like, they get the Irish pub culture pretty well, and that's awesome, yay! 

Pretty well, she puffs. Way too well. 

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World Cup of Sexism

I'll start this post with a friend's story. Thaís is my blog partner (I collaborate in a Brazilian feminist blog, Ativismo de Sofá) and I was pretty horrified when she told me what's happened to her, recently. She was walking down a street in Belo Horizonte, the capital city of Minas Gerais, in Brazil. Well, we all know it's World Cup season. Belo Horizonte is now hosting thousands of eager foreign tourists who are up to having a great time and enjoying themselves in Brazil. 

Thaís, just like myself and most Brazilians, loves World Cups. She was all set to have a great time back in BH, but that didn't quite happen and the reason is very simple: sexism. The system consistently reminds women that public and private are completely separate spheres and we are not welcome in the former, but 'naturally belong' in the latter. That's a subtle, yet powerful way to perpetuate gender inequalities. As you might be wondering what exactly has happened to Thaís, well, she got catcalled. Street harassment, pure and simple. Gringos (foreign men) felt entitled to describe to Thaís, in details, the hard way they would fuck her. Gringos wearing English jerseys somehow felt it appropriate to scare a woman in broad daylight. 

Those gringos were not expecting a reaction from Thaís, though. I'd give two reasons for that: 

1. street harassment is territory demarcation: it's men telling women that they should be scared of going outside; it's men telling women that they do NOT belong in the public realm; it's men feeling entitled to a woman's body because she's dared to get out of her home. It's not about genuine appreciation of a woman's beauty: it's about power, and everybody knows that.

2. it's Braseeeeeel, guys! C'mon, men are obviously sanctioned to objectify Brazilian women because whoop! LATINAS! They love it! There's even GQ magazine teaching men how to harass Brazilian women because we are supposedly keen on violence. Besides, Brazilian women idolize European men and are clearly anxious to hear insults on the streets, because an insult coming from a deity isn't actually abuse, but a compliment, right? 

Well, wrong. Thaís answered back and she did it beautifully, by letting them know how sexist they were. She frowned and yelled back at them. They got clearly astonished. Thaís kept on walking, her head up straight, but her heart was broken. She went home and told us the whole story. We were all glad she reacted, but extremely saddened to hear yet another story of everyday sexism. 

The above narrative is one example of many others that might be happening at this very moment. Those guys were just unlucky to mess with a feminist. What happens, though, when they do make advancements towards women who do not necessarily bear the label? Well, Sabina's example is pretty representative, I guess. 

Sabina is a news reporter from São Paulo, and she was working when a Croatian tourist found it appropriate to stop by and kiss her on the cheek. I will give you a minute to let that sink in: a woman is out presenting the news when a guy suddenly pops and drops an unrequested kiss on her cheek. Her reaction? Well, if you speak Portuguese and see the video, you'll realize that she wasn't exactly comfortable with the situation. She, however, acted friendly, because FRIENDLY is what the world expects from us. We should be docile, and accept the act of "admiration". We should keep quiet and if we protest, we are prone to all sorts of backlash, because the "poor guy" was just being nice to her, after all. 

I know it sounds pretty obvious, but I do need to say that this guy wouldn't have done so in his own country. There is an element of othering in the whole story that feels disturbing to me. Furthermore, Marília Moschkovich, a Brazilian cyber activist, hit the nail on the head when she stated: "Sabina Simonato did not ask for nor agreed with the kiss, however light her reaction might have appeared to us". Women pay the price for the world's refusal to talk about consent. 

There's many reasons I am happy with this world cup. Vibes are so good on my timeline that I genuinely felt homesick, after many years away from Brazil. I agree with the many posts that are praising the event, claiming it to be the best world cup ever, or something of the sort. My friend Thaís still enjoys the world cup and she still appreciates the matches. Those jerks won't take that away from her. Nor will they take away my joy in seeing so many people I love having fun. However, the fact that we are having fun will not prevent us from voicing our dissatisfaction with a system that blatantly strips women off their very humanity. #Yesallwomen is our perennial hashtag, and we'll hush no more. 

Just so you know, a Portuguese tourist apparently found it so cool that the Croatian kissed the journalist that he decided that he too should be invasive. Rape cases related to the world cup are slowly making their way into the news, too. That's patriarchy at its best, unfortunately.

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Misogyny is informing much of trans-activism in Brazil

It is with immense sadness that I'm writing this post today. I want to let the world know that misogyny has been informing (at least some of the) trans-activism in Brazil. I'm also hoping to touch some trans-activists with my text. 

No, I am not a radical feminist. Some people seriously look at me and wonder if I'm at all a feminist, to be honest. I for one like to define myself as a zen-feminist. I seriously believe in the power of inner balance to counter the discursive practices that dehumanize women since ancient times. 

The thing is, hatred disturbs me badly. Let me tell you that transphobia disgusts me. It really does. I feel miserable every time anyone tells a trans woman that she is not actually a woman. That for some reason, she is not entitled to womanhood, whatever that is. It breaks my heart, and I think feminism should be radically inclusive of trans-individuals. 

However, I do understand the sense of hostility between the two sects (radfems x trans-activists). And… I also comprehend the fact that trans-activists may get aggressive at times. I know it's not easy to have your choices confronted within activism, by and large by radical feminists. There is one thing about radfems that trans-activists in general don't get, though. To be clear, I'd like to speak precisely about the Brazilian radfems I know.

The radfems I know are NOT monsters that should be mocked and ostracized. The radfems I know are people with feelings, and they are extremely concerned about all women. The radfems I know are, however, suspicious. If we look at the way women have been treated throughout history, doesn't it seem reasonable for them to be cautious and distrustful of the new paradigms that have taken over the feminist terrain? I'd think so. 

I was aghast when a trans-activist I used to follow and hold in high regard got engaged in the discussion I expose below (translation mine).

Random woman (as far as I know, she's a teenager, but I've no confirmation on the age): I have nothing against you guys, but understand you will never be women, you'll never menstruate or bear a child, you'll never have to go through what women experience. 

Trans activist: Hi darling! There is one thing we call subjectivity. I am me, you are yourself. The only thing I strive for is to become a better version of myself, and in that you're failing, regressing. There's women who do not menstruate (by means of choice or not) as there's women who can't or don't want to have children. Take a look at some history books and you'll see that this general notion that a woman is BORN to have kids is wrong. During feudalism, the nobles did not raise their children, the task was given to a slave (wet nurse) as soon as the child was born. Where is the maternal love? This need for bleeding or having kids that patriarchy tries to shove down your mind only limits you as a woman. Did you know that a great deal of postpartum depression is derived from this feeling of frustration? From not loving the child like film/media/society preach? From not having had that "instant" shock of unconditional love? Free yourself from sexism and help liberate other women too, there is nothing wrong in not bearing a child/not desiring one. If nothing I've just said made up your mind, take your vagina from between your legs and have it framed on your wall! If your vagina is at the core of your completeness… or you could go vampire and drink your menstrual blood, as it makes you so happy as a woman. I go through all a woman experiences and I can tell you one thing… MISOGYNY hurts! 

One of her followers: Beautiful response. I must confess I wouldn't have had such patience, class and elegance. But you know what? I feel sorry for people who live trapped in a genitalized world. They understand nothing about gender and human subjectivity. This sexist girl will obliterate the freedom of her kids in the future. 

Trans activist: If there was an option like 'tear off her ass' I'd have just done that. 

Believe me, the above interaction took place on a page with 40k+ followers. If someone, anyone, is willing to engage in activism, then educating is paramount. I can't see any educational tone in the response given by the trans activist in question. Apart from the very flawed argument of 'look at the feudal aristocracy', that leaves like ALL my ancestors of color and their struggles behind (isn't feminism also about raising awareness on the erasure of unprivileged women from the history books?), it undertakes a very cynical type of misogyny. The trans activist ends up backfiring, as she couldn't get away with essentialism without engaging in hatred towards women. 

I'll take it as win that she did delete the thread. It gets me thinking, however, that she did that in order to protect herself from some lawsuit, not exactly because she regrets somehow. I don't wish to foster hatred towards anyone. It's just not my nature. It's not how I choose to function as a human being. But the moment I saw that conversation I knew I needed to voice my concern. 

I'm a cis woman (and so far have no problem with the designation). I obviously menstruate. The fact that I bleed in tune with the lunar calendar does not make me more entitled to womanhood than a trans-woman. However, I do believe women who experience femininity in terms of menstruation and bearing children shouldn't be ridiculed like that. This is a huge disservice to the whole cause of feminism, and I'd urge all feminists to actually love women. Like, for real, resentment won't take us anywhere. I'm all in for pointing how essentialism hurts us all. I'm totally supportive of highlighting privileges. I think it's counterproductive, though, to shame a woman. Any woman. 

Print of what happened

UPDATE: I received the following information from Giselle Alves, a radfem friend of mine: "The page exposed the name and picture of a 13 year old girl. This is a crime according to Article 18 of our Children and Adolescent Act. There is no excuse for such behavior. Especially when we consider that the page deletes/blurs names of men. Isn't it a coincidence that they are exposing a teenager? Secondly, I don't follow the page, but four friends shared the post. The girl has been exposed. The crime has had high proportions. This post served as a means for misogynous of all sorts to expose what they really think. Meanwhile, any comment or reasoning from women were promptly deleted and such women ended up banned from the page. This has a name, and it is silencing, and it is rooted in misogyny. The page admin not only said she wanted to "tear off" the girl's ass, a man followed her by suggesting they should spank the girl. This is hatred. Other equally violent comments have followed since. This is anything but pro-women activism". 

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