Discussion Link and a Personal Story

On Rape and Men, a discussion by cereta.

This was linked to in a couple of places on my Flist, and I'm spreading it around as well. Because it's so true.

I'm very, very lucky in that nearly every male I've known in my life has been That Guy. The one who won't take advantage, the one who will go even further and make sure a woman in a potentially bad situation is safe. I can't count how many times men I've known have been the ones making sure a girl got home safely, or was removed from a potentially dangerous situation, who call out other men on sexist attitudes, comments and actions.

And no, I never make a point to talk about it. I never bring it up, or think of it when discussing feminist or sexual violence issues with friends. But as this discussion so clearly illustrates, we need to. We need to draw attention to the times when men Did The Right Thing, because we never, ever hear about it. And as the post I've linked to says, those men are out there.

So I want to share a story, from when I was maybe 19 or 20, and still living in Boston.

I used to hang out in Harvard Square a lot. Especially on Saturday nights, for the Full Body Cast's RHPS midnight showing. I had a nice little routine. Dinner, then catching Not The Beatles, the local Beatles cover band, and then RHPS.

One night I was dancing to the band in The Pit, and this very large, very drunk and very creepy guy repeatedly came over to me and tried to touch me. Not overtly sexual, but...enough to make me extremely uncomfortable. I'd back away, or shake my head, or plain say 'no', but it did no good. I was starting to get freaked out. And then someone taps me on the shoulder from behind. I turn and see a very short, very skinny, bespectacled bald mad with an apprehensive expression on his face. He asked me if I was being bothered and I said yes. And this tiny, timid looking man - still in his nice tie from work - moved in front of me and told the large drunk man to leave me alone, I didn't want anything to do with him, and if he didn't leave me alone, he'd be calling the police.

The drunk wandered off, and the very nice man - who's name I never even learned - told me to have a good night, and if I had any more trouble he'd be right over there enjoying the music, just go get him.

There was no expectations that I needed to 'repay' him for helping me, no judgment that I 'attracted it' because I was wearing a short skirt and fishnets, nothing but a very nice middle aged man stepping up and doing a decent, nice thing.

And I've never forgotten him, despite how much time has passed since then and now. That right there says something, I think.