The Good Guys: Jackson Katz and A.R. Moxon

It’s true, not all heroes wear capes. And not all linguists use their powers, or their white male privilege, for good.

But then there’s Jackson Katz. Right out of the gate he cites feminist linguist Julia Penelope. I didn’t even know there was such a thing nor had I heard of her. But his TED talks and speeches have spawned widely shared posts that trace social tolerance of gender violence back to language. He lambasts the passive voice in which we say things like,

“We talk about how many women were raped last year, not how many men raped women. We talk about how many girls in a school district were harassed last year, not about how many boys harassed girls. We talk about how many teenage girls in the state of Vermont got pregnant last year, rather than how many boys and men impregnated teenage girls.”

While the flaming bag of dog shit that was the Kavanaugh hearing burned for days, (in which Kavanaugh was both the flaming bag and the fool trying to stomp it out), a good many folks posted an exercise Katz does with groups to illustrate female hypervigilance in our attempts to keep ourselves safe. And while men, especially powerful men, continue to get away with abusing women, and until Katz’s linguistic insight changes how we talk about that abuse, we will continue doing what we can to protect ourselves and each other.

There will always be men like Kavanaugh. And the senate hearing was emotionally exsanguinating. It is therefore crucial to our emotional wellbeing and ability to leave the house to remember that there will always be men like Katz too.

And so, good sir, to this exhausting list I add a few personal anecdotes and wisdom shared from friends.

Not only do I not run alone at night, I typically run with one of two male friends – even during the day. Both of them are minorities and one of them feels equally protected by my white skin. He and I run close to  each other protect ourselves from the danger specific to our own vulnerability.

When I turned 16 my dad gave me a rape whistle for my birthday and taught me the routes to the city police station and the Oregon State Police. I didn’t think the rape whistle was a strange gift. My family valued pragmatic gifts. And I was certain I wouldn’t remember the way to either police station but I didn’t think that was strange either. That was just the world women and girls live in. It didn’t seem unfair or outrageous. It felt no different than getting my AAA membership in case I got a flat tire. Bad things can always happen and the best we can do is to be prepared to prevent it when possible and mitigate damages when not.

My dad told me that if I felt like I was being followed I should just drive to the police station. Anyone with bad intentions would get scared off. He also told me that if I got pulled over but suspected for any reason that the man who posing as a cop that I was to explain that he could follow me to the nearest police station but I wouldn’t be getting out of the vehicle for any reason.

We know to never leave our drinks unattended at parties or in bars. We actually take our drinks to the bathroom with us. Ew. And we are still patiently waiting for that rape-drug detecting fingernail polish we’ve been hearing about for years.

In addition to meeting new dates in public places, we also text our friends the time and place. We drop pin the address if we’re going to his place. Dating can be exciting. What if he’s The One? Also, he might be a rapist. Or a murderer. Or both. We don’t text our mothers the address because we don’t want them to have to worry about one more thing. But we text our friends, our support network, our ad hoc dating committees, so they can tell the cops where to start looking if things go sideways.

I have also learned valuable tips from Law and Order: SVU. Exfoliate your throat and neck regularly so forensics can lift fingerprints if you get strangled. Remember to pull hair out by the root so they can extract DNA. Try to scratch hard enough to get an assailant’s skin under your fingernails.

And so, dear men. We need you to not rape us. We need you to intervene if you see someone else raping us. We need you to fight for us politically. We need you to vote out predator politicians. We need you to ditch your misogynist friends in order to change the casual climate of what’s “ok” to joke about. We need you to follow The Rock Test. We need you to listen to us without judgement when we confide in you. We need your compassion when we trust you enough to ask you to be part of our healing process. We need you to not get defensive and #notallmen us. And if you won’t listen to us, maybe you’d be willing to listen to another dude. I recommend Jackson Katz.

But if a man trusted by both the military and the sports industry to train their most valuable commodities is too legit for you, perhaps a twitter thread about getting kicked in the nuts is more relatable for you. Read A.R. Moxon’s  entire thread – @JuliusGoat.

And so, my hat’s off and my heart is full of gratitude. Mr. Katz and Mr. Moxon – this world weary woman salutes you. From the safety of my home.