Another of the reasons I do not work with ‘feminist’ or Women’s Studies faculty is that so much of their energy seems to go into justifying the boorish behavior of men. “He means well,” they say, “and he is surely struggling with his behavior and attitude.” The rejoinder “Consider what he did” falls upon deaf ears.
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Another reason I disagree with the Twelve Step movement is that they do not encourage people to leave abusive relationships. “S/he will only get into another one,” they say. In the first place I find that terribly condescending – that is to say, abusive. In the second place I note that people who are in one abusive relationship may be in two or more – at home and at work, for example. Getting out of one such relationship may in fact show them that abuse has an exterior. It may help them see how to get out of the other. They may also live in an entire culture where abuse is the norm and non-abuse the exception.
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I do not like the way women my age treat teenagers – they are so snide and condescending it makes me want to cringe. I just told the dueña of my ceramics studio that I did not want to have to watch her speak to the resident seventeen year old in the tone she uses to her. The dueña said she speaks to her in that tone because she likes her. My stomach turned over, and my shoulders and lungs froze. I wanted to take my lovely, newly glazed Japanese tea set out into the concrete yard and throw it piece by piece against the wall. I resisted that temptation by promising myself I would write this post.
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I do not like having to engage in, and parry teasing by the lady’s husband, either. He thinks it is amusing banter but I think it is abuse when not just a distraction. I try to laugh at him, make him see the silliness of his ways, because I have already paid for this month’s kiln use and I do not want him to ruin my things. He wants us to “talk” about my disagreement with his behavior but I think that is just another attempt on his part to take up my time.
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When I was a small child my brother used to bully me and my mother would egg him on with an eerie grin. I protested but it was explained to me that since I was older and smarter than my brother I owed him the opportunity to bully me. To protect myself, I should pretend it was not happening. This would make it stop.
Then I went to school and boys bullied me. My mother did intervene and understand when some girls bullied me. But she said bullying by boys was a compliment. It was something to be glad about, even grateful for. Something to grab onto and negotiate with.
When I found out in the second half of the fourth grade that marriage was not obligatory, I felt the strongest rush of relief I have ever felt in my life. If I did not marry, I would not have to share living space with a bully.
Nevertheless I may now be sharing studio space with two. It makes me jittery for the reasons I have already explained and also because I suspect these two people are acting out with or on me the tensions in their marriage.
That, of course, is what my parents did, and when I find this replayed I am ready to use any weapon I have against the perpetrators – the larger and the more destructive, the better.
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I still need to learn better ways of dealing with abusive people. Negotiating with them is not the answer, and just ignoring them or pretending one is not, or should not be affected is no answer, either. I find myself trying to ignore or negotiate with abuse for all too long a time. Then consciousness of what is happening breaks through in white hot rage and I am capable of advancing upon people as my father did, and hitting them right where I know it will most hurt with precise and damning words enunciated perfectly through my sharpened teeth.
Witnesses sometimes tell me I have been justified in my reactions but I know when they have been out of line – too mild or too strong – by how I feel physically.
Axé.
coldhearted scientist وداد 