One Hundredth Day Stream of Consciousness

As you all know, this Saturday, the 45th president of the United States hits his 100th day in office.  This week I’ve written a fictional internal monologue of the “president” as he regards himself in the mirror on the morning of his 100th day.  I have to admit, it was difficult to break down the language enough to have it sound like the “president” could be thinking it.  My goal was to keep it up for 1000 words.  I didn’t make it.  Here goes:

 

Donald Trump, looking in the mirror, as he prepares for his day.  It is 10:00 a.m. on a sunny day in Florida.

(http://blackexplainer.com/millions-americans-see-trump-look-mirror/)

Jesus, my hair, it’s a disaster today.  Oh, the 100th day doesn’t matter.  Yes, it does!  It does matter because I’m doing great, just great.  I mean, I’m a really top-notch guy.  The hair is doing just fine.  I think I’ll play golf today, or maybe just grab some pussy, not sure.  Oh, that’s right, I’m the president.  I might have to go to work.  Who’s on my staff at Mar-a-Lago?  Maybe they can take care of this for me.  Where is Melania?  I know I saw her somewhere lately, just not sure where.  Was she on Air Force One with me?  Not that I can remember.  Hmm.  No calls from Russia today—I need to not pick up the phone when those guys call me.  But that Putin, he’s such a powerful guy.  He may not play golf, but I’m told he does ride horses.  If he calls, I’ll take it.  But if that Merkel wants me to shake her hand, no way.  I mean, she is bad, really bad.  Once I’ve got this hair combed down, I think I’ll sign a few more executive orders.  I’m told there have to be some huge Muslim countries I missed in the first ban.  And the wall, oh the wall, what a tremendous thing.  I mean it’ll keep all the nature out, and the people too.  We’ll get someone to pay for it.  I think it should be made of gold on the U.S. side.  Doesn’t that sound right?  Golden.  If those stupid Democrats shut down my government, I’ll have something to say about it.  The wall is happening, people, it is happening.  Next week, even though it’s after my 100th day, I know we will repeal Obamacare and replace it with something.  A little complicated, yes, you know, I’m told healthcare is kind of difficult, but we will replace healthcare with something, I know we will.  You know?  I wish I could have another inauguration day.  That was big, really great.  I mean, the greatest number of people ever to attend or watch an inauguration.  I am amazing.  Who doesn’t want to watch me?  I mean, I am shaking things up.  I know how to do this.  I do.  Maybe I should play a round of golf today. Hey, maybe we could replace the U.N. with just some rounds of golf and then bring the NRA along for some peacekeeping missions.  Wait, what?  That doesn’t make sense, I’m not about that pussy peacekeeping.  Okay, I will play golf today.  And then grab some pussy.  All right, my calendar is set.  I can sort through alternative facts once I’m out on the links.  As long as the goddamned media doesn’t report again on my leisure time.  Who doesn’t do business on the golf course?  I mean, the rolling greens and expensive fees are for everyone, aren’t they?  The media just needs to keep its mouth shut about my golf-playing, and everything, really.  I wonder what Frederick Douglass is up to today?  I gotta see if that guy is free to play some golf with me.  And Sally Yates?  She can go “f” herself for being disloyal to America and making America great again.  I mean, that woman, that woman makes America suck.  Damn it, this one side of my hair will not flatten down.  I wonder if I can start a nuclear war.  That would definitely put America on the map.  I mean, we’re already on the map since January 20, but I mean even more on the map.  I have to remember to tell people to make sure to buy Ivanka’s clothes.  She is so great, so–, I mean she is such a tremendous person.  My White House is a fine-tuned machine.  It really is.  I should stop by there sometime.  It’s probably an all-right place to work.  I wonder if Obama can hear me thinking?  I mean, has he tapped my mind?  No, he can’t, no, I guess just my phones.  Where is that guy?  He doesn’t seem very macho.  What’s all that crap he says about women’s rights and immigrants and blah-blah-blah?  Don’t worry about Spicer.  He’s just doing his job.  Chemical weapons?  Spicer knows what he’s talking about.  I’ll keep him front and center for now.  Helps me get to the course and whack the shit out of the ball.  That’s really what it’s all about. I can dominate that ball, I can.  Hey, I wonder if I can launch a TV show about myself.  “The President.”  I like that.  No, wait, they might not know it’s me.  How about, “The World’s Leader Making America Great Again?”  Too long maybe.  It’ll be great, top-notch.  I can hire and fire people and make money as we go.  Hmm, my skin.  It needs a little pick-me-up.  No, it’s just this damned mirror.  It must have an orange tint.  These people around me, can they not supply a decent mirror?  I’m going to have to grab their pussies.  I can, you know.  I can just move on them.  I tried to f*$k those women.  They were married.  After I play golf today, I’ll move on someone like a b*&%h.  Melania said this was okay.  Where is that Melania?  I know I had her somewhere.

(*Note: I just found this hilarious SNL clip of Jimmy Fallon as Donald Trump interviewing himself in the mirror.)

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Witches and Warlocks

This week Fox News removed Bill O’Reilly from its roster (reported on by The New York Times here).  Finally.  After multiple complaints of sexual harassment, discrimination, and retaliation.  (*See the Gender Shrapnel Blog post on Roger Ailes and Fox News here.)  The New York Times reported: “Mr. O’Reilly and his employers came under intense pressure after an article by The New York Times on April 1 revealed how Fox News and its parent company, 21st Century Fox, had repeatedly stood by him even as he and the company reached settlements with five women who had complained about sexual harassment or other inappropriate behavior by him. The agreements totaled about $13 million.”  The New York Times reports that O’Reilly was still able to hold a meeting with the Pope this week and will not lose his book contract with Henry Holt.  Bill also keeps the $25 million (figured cited in this The Washington Post piece) that Fox News would have paid him in the upcoming year. I think Bill is doing just fine, in case you were worried.

The Chronicle of Higher Education has featured for several weeks now Laura Kipnis’ article titled “Eyewitness to a Title IX Witch Trial.”  The article, published in The Chronicle’s Review section, has given ample publicity to the publication of Kipnis’ new book, Unwanted Advances: Sexual Paranoia Comes to Campus (HarperCollins).  In this blog post, I am addressing only Kipnis’ piece in The Chronicle.  I haven’t yet read the book.  I disagree with the main points of the article, but maybe the book will offer more nuance.

In the lengthy review article (about her own book), Kipnis recounts at great length the process by which Northwestern University adjudicated a case against philosophy professor Peter Ludlow.  The case has been covered in The Chicago Tribune, Inside Higher Ed, The Chronicle of Higher Education, and The Daily Northwestern.  I’m only familiar with this case through reading these articles and therefore am no expert on it.  I understand that Ludlow was accused by an undergraduate student, who had been Ludlow’s student, of forcing her to drink alcohol and making unwanted sexual advances towards her.  Soon after this became a formal lawsuit, a graduate student (from the same department as Ludlow, but not his student) accused Ludlow of raping her.  These are the two cases at the center of this story.  Northwestern University had no policy prohibiting faculty-student relations (called “dating” by Kipnis in the Chronicle piece).

Kipnis takes issue with Northwestern University’s handling of the case in the lengthy hearings of Ludlow, at which were present the faculty panel and “three outside lawyers, at least two in-house lawyers, another lawyer hired by the university to advise the faculty panel…,” (cited here) along with Ludlow’s lawyer.  Kipnis was there in the role of “faculty support person” to Ludlow.  Her account of the hearings is supplemented by Ludlow’s file of e-mails, text messages, memos, and formal university documents.  I appreciate Kipnis’ detailed account and willingness to question Title IX proceedings that are still woefully inadequate on most college and university campuses.  She believes that the university was trying to respond to unclear Title IX guidelines and that this resulted in the “witch trial” of Peter Ludlow.

Laura Kipnis is implicated in the case as well because her earlier defense of faculty-student “dating” had resulted in a Title IX complaint against her at Northwestern.  Kipnis believes that prohibitions on such behavior are paternalistic and remove sexual agency.  I believe we need to understand this entanglement to analyze well Kipnis’ highly public (and well remunerated) opinion on this case.

I would like to examine the language Kipnis uses in this piece. Kipnis remarks, “So when Ludlow’s lawyer called, of course I said yes—I was being offered a front-row seat at a witch trial.” The “witch trial” analogy seems poorly applied in the case of Ludlow, who has enjoyed great privilege and position for years.  I get that “warlock trial” doesn’t do the trick, but I’d rather go in that direction.  I also don’t completely understand the desire to witness a so-called “witch trial” because I don’t wish the pillory upon people, whether they are innocent or guilty. On the other hand, if Kipnis had made clear that her goal in being present at the hearings was to bear witness in the name of justice surrounding fraught Title IX policies, practices, and procedures, then her participation in, association with, and writings about the case to me would be more convincing.

The conflation of the term “sex” with “sexual harassment and discrimination” and “sexual violence” presents problems that weaken some of Kipnis’ arguments.  “Sex” refers to (1) biological determinations that have been appropriately complicated by gender and sexuality studies and (2) physical contact (often officially referred to as sexual intercourse, with reference to genitalia) between and/or among individuals.  Kipnis states, “I soon learned that rampant accusation is the new norm on American campuses; the place is a secret cornucopia of accusation, especially when it comes to sex” (cited in her 4-2-17 Chronicle piece).  The hyperbolic language (“rampant” and “cornucopia”) belies the realities of sexual assault on college campuses, where 2016 statistics (RAINN statistics here) still tell us that one in five women is sexually assaulted during her time at college or university.  The figures are worse for transgender, genderqueer, and gender non-conforming individuals.  Kipnis uses the bald term ‘sex,’ instead of giving it context in the hierarchical layers of colleges and universities.

Nowhere in this lengthy piece does Kipnis deal with actual statistics that speak to a culture of sexual violence, embedded in power hierarchies, on our college and university campuses.  Kipnis claims that “new codes banning professor-student dating infantilize[d]students—this wasn’t feminism, it was paternalism.”  Kipnis’ foray into questions of feminism and sexual agency is interesting and necessary, but becomes much more complicated when the professor-student relationship is added to the mix.

Professors do wield power.  We design syllabi, determine the flow of class, assign grades, vote for assignment of department awards, and write (or don’t) letters of recommendation. Undergraduate and graduate students can develop a type of hero worship (something I detect in Kipnis’ enraptured tone as she describes Ludlow) that might translate as sexual attraction.  No matter an institution’s lack of policy on “dating” (Kipnis’ oversimplified term), or “fraternization” (a charged term in and of itself often used in the workplace), a professor who gets entangled in a relationship with a student in his class or department is exercising power.  Students in the same department are often nominated for the same awards, scholarships, and grants, and therefore departments breed competition, a competition that takes on a different look and a less fair landscape if a professor is sleeping with one of the students involved.

When things go wrong in the relationship (however we choose to define it), and we know they often do, this power piece is at play.  College students are often trying to figure out sexual desires and identities, and, so, yes, questions of power and sexual agency are more than just a little complicated.  If and when students and professors sleep together, structural systems of power become even more apparent.  Kipnis’ use of the term ‘sexual paranoia,’ in this review piece and in the book title itself, trivializes this important developmental stage for 18-22-year-olds and conflates sexual exploration with sexual discrimination and violence.  Kipnis also reduces real concerns about rampant sexual discrimination, harassment, and retaliation and about rape and sexual violence to one oversimplified, offensive phrase, ‘sexual finger-pointing.’

Kipnis praises Jessica Wilson, a philosophy professor and former student of Ludlow, and Wilson’s character defense of Ludlow at the hearings.  Kipnis writes, “Like a great teacher, Wilson flipped the question [about Wilson’s own account of “unwelcome behavior” from a different former professor] around.  She’d been speaking from her own experience, she pointed out.  Yet didn’t the panelists have to ask whether she was telling the truth?  They hadn’t been there, so how would they know?  And if she were being entirely honest, she herself wasn’t sure if the disturbing thing was a professor trying to kiss her, or simply that she was getting unwanted attention that she ‘wasn’t participating in.’”  Kipnis neglects to make clear that “getting unwanted attention that you’re not participating in” can be or can easily lead to real violation.  In addition, Kipnis replicates sexualization and hero worship in her description of Wilson: “Here was a smart, attractive, successful woman from one of the top philosophy departments in North America who revered Peter Ludlow.”  She later remarks that, after Wilson completed her testimony, “it felt as if there were an erotic current in the room.”

Kipnis also tires of “exhausted clichés about predatory males and eternally innocent females…”  I think it’s fair to say that anyone who follows the pages of The Chronicle of Higher Education, Inside Higher Ed, and the major national dailies might find these “clichés” to not be exhausted enough.  Of course it makes sense to get away from the polarized language Kipnis critiques, but college and university campus statistics and the underlying realities of sexual violence on campus are still acutely bad.  The tone Kipnis uses when speaking of the two complainants is condescending at best.  When Kipnis blames herself for not coming to Ludlow’s defense in a particularly tense moment in the hearing, she wonders if she hadn’t done so because she was “so shaken [her]self, so frozen and appalled” that she couldn’t.  This is exactly what happens to many people who have experienced aggression and assault (and to some who have witnessed it), just like the two complainants in this case had claimed themselves.  If the two complainants are deserving of scorn, I would like more information to understand why.

The strength of Kipnis’ article (and, I surmise, her book) lies in the legitimate questioning of the efficacy of legal processes in Title IX hearings on college and university campuses.  She rightly criticizes Northwestern for running hearings soaked with lawyers from all sides, hiring an outside lawyer to advise the university panel, and worrying more about image than justice (Kipnis writes: “Ludlow was bad for the brand.”).  Kipnis also says that she “was being warned off the subject,” and I am certain that was the case.  Universities have many direct and subtle means to silence unpleasant subjects and cases that sully the brand.  My simplified view of the stance that universities adopt is that they support the side that brings the fewest monetary and public relations risks.  Oftentimes this means that complainants are silenced and run off campus, and, on far fewer occasions, it means that alleged perpetrators are.

We should all be wary when a university hires outside counsel to “advise” an internal panel.  The advice provided stems from whatever is in the university’s best interest.  At that point, the university can be considered wholly separate from the complainant and the alleged perpetrator.  Kipnis points to the fraught intervention of universities in their own processes when she writes, “The university was set on getting rid of Ludlow, and the hearing was a formality.  I also knew enough about the procedures to know that the faculty panel’s vote was merely advisory; the provost would make the final call, and it had been the provost’s decision to put the dismissal machinery in motion to begin with.”  Exactly!  This is a profound problem not only because it is evidently unjust, but also because it exploits student, staff, and faculty labor and their potentially sincere belief in the benefits of university adjudicative processes.

No matter where we readers fall on matters of sexual agency and exploitation of professional power, we can certainly question the Big Brand Machine of colleges and universities, whose students and employees have become little more than additional institutional risks.

The Chronicle has featured Laura Kipnis on several occasions and for several weeks running.  It might be a good moment to consider other editorial decisions that take into account real statistics and violations of actual people.

Who’s Sorry?

Over the past ten days, I have had lots of exposure to airline companies of the United States.  As a person with a ticket to ride was being dragged off a United flight, I was trying to make it to Portland, where I would see old friends, give a talk, and meet colleagues whose work I admire.  I never made it to Portland.

On Wednesday, we were boarded onto the plane, only to sit on the runway for just under two hours and then be told that the flight was cancelled (no refunds for paid-for checked bags).  I was rebooked for the same flight the following day.  At 10:00 that night, however, I received a text telling me that the next day’s flight would also be cancelled and that I would receive notice of rebooking.  That notice never came, so I spent just over four hours on Thursday trying to get booked on a flight for Friday.  Once I had that flight, whew, I could rest easy, despite having had to juggle plans several times already.  When I arrived at the airport on Friday, the flight was delayed.  I would therefore miss the connecting flight and was told there was not one seat on any plane of any airline available to get me to Portland.

Who was sorry?  Every person I dealt with at ticket counters was a young, African-American woman.  To a person, they were knowledgeable, patient, and unfailingly polite.  They had to express to each new disappointed, frustrated, or angry customer that they were very sorry and were doing the best they could under the circumstances.  I started to think about how airlines operate.

We have all seen passengers lose their calm, become visibly agitated, raise their voices, and even threaten gate agents. The bigwigs (CEOs) are men (only 5% of all CEOs of all airlines in the world are women; none of these airlines are in the United States).  The pilots are usually men and usually white (see 2011 statistics from CNN here; this 2016 CBS piece reports that 6.5% of U.S. pilots are women).  The flight attendants and gate agents are usually women (in 2014, 75.8% of flight attendants in the United States were women; I haven’t yet found data on gate agents).  Men get to hide from the problems of the airlines, while their lesser-paid and more visible counterparts, predominantly women, are on the front lines.  When things go wrong—major weather systems, mechanical failures, absent flight crews–, passengers are often the last to know, and the visible front-line people are the first to have to apologize for natural occurrences and administrative mistakes that are not their fault.  In sum, the United States airline industry puts its men in the cockpit and its women in a “pink ghetto” (1983 term coined by Stallard, Ehrenreich, and Sklar and cited in this 2010 Washington Post article; historical background available here) of apology politics.

Last week Elle (even the beauty mags are getting more feminist in our current climate) featured an article by Sady Doyle titled “Women Don’t Need to Apologize Less—Men Need to Learn How to Apologize” (4-13-17).  In the article, Doyle cites research that confirms that women apologize more than men, but also expresses frustration that this is often erroneously attributed to women’s low levels of self-confidence.  She stresses that the research signals that “the disparity arises not from the fact that women are socialized to apologize ‘too often,’ but from the fact that men are not socialized to apologize at all.”  Doyle then underscores how problematic this is when a Sean Spicer needs to apologize for deeply misinformed and insanely insensitive comments about Hitler and chemical weapons and doesn’t know how to.  A life of privilege is a life of not having to say you’re sorry.  Doyle sums up Spicer’s “manpology” problem in this way:  “Sean Spicer has spent hours of his life flagrantly not apologizing for something he has clearly gotten wrong.”  The airline miscommunications I experienced ten days ago were the result of too many higher-ups exploiting too many lower-downs—their own employees and their customers.

This apology differential works in physical space as well.  You recall that I was desperately trying to get on a flight ten days ago.  When I did finally get on a flight (not to my original destination), I sat in the middle seat with men about twenty years younger on either side of me.  They were generally nice, and we shared mints and pleasantries.  Nevertheless, each assumed that the armrest was his, one constantly jabbed me in the side with his elbow, and the other rested his bare foot on my seat tray.  No apologies, no “excuse me’s,” no recognition that this shared space should be truly shared.  Meanwhile, two inches over, in the aisle, the flight attendants were moving heavy carts through tiny spaces, saying all the while, “Excuse me.  Sorry.  Watch your elbows.  Careful with your shoulders.  Please move your feet.  Excuse me.”

I offer one final example of the uneven apology culture.  A colleague of mine stated last year that she was told her e-mails were too long, “just like most women’s.”  She decided to limit her e-mails to three lines so that they would be edited for appropriate brevity and could be read more like the e-mails of male colleagues.  In a sense, her self-editing was an apology for an e-mail style she had obviously developed over decades.  I have always found this person’s e-mails to be clear, thorough, and polite, and, therefore, to not need much follow-up.  To me, this approach requires no apology.  In fact, it’s a solid way to get the job done.

Homework assignment:  Figure out how much “I’m sorry” has to do with civility impositions.

A Twisted Tale of Two Harassers (Welcome to the White House)

Last week I learned that titles like “Sexual Assault Prevention Training in the News” don’t grab readers.  Maybe this week’s title will, and certainly one of the people to whom it alludes has spoken famously about grabbing.

Mainstream and not-so-mainstream media, from People and Cosmopolitan to The Washington Post and The Atlantic, have been crackling this week due to the revelation from a resurfaced 2002 Mike Pence interview that the only woman with whom Pence will dine alone is his wife, Karen Pence.  (*Here are links to more coverage of this issue:  The Guardian, Slate, and Canada Free Press.)  As you know, Mike Pence was governor of Indiana and is now the Vice President of the United States.  His level of world awareness and understanding of gender essentialism boils down to one word: cooties.  Pence seems to believe that all women are temptresses and that he has limited ability to hold himself back from such temptation and infection.  Therefore, he will not have a meal with any women who aren’t Karen (that’s a lot of women) and won’t hire women staffers with whom he would potentially have to meet alone in the evening hours (that’s all staffers).  Jia Tolentino remarks in her The New Yorker article on the piece, “That Pence was able to do so speaks to an incredible level of inequity in the workplace; no successful woman could ever abide by the same rule.  How could you sex-segregate a thrice-daily activity and still engage in civic life?”

(Pence with the only women with whom he trusts himself to interact)       (http://canadafreepress.com/article/pences-dinner-arrangements-with-women)

What Pence is doing technically is not harassment, but discrimination.  He is discriminating against all women and limiting their professional advancement because he is afraid that he will harass them.  Actually, that gives Pence too much credit.  I’m guessing he is just afraid that he is too weak not to have sex with all of these women who so obviously will be throwing themselves at him because he is so desirable.

Tolentino states that Christian evangelicals often invoke the “Billy Graham rule,” which, Tolentino writes, is a refusal to “eat, travel, or meet along with a woman” and which “stems from a story that the famous pastor told about walking into a hotel room and finding a naked woman, bent on destroying his ministry, sprawled across his bed.”  While Tolentino appropriately detects some hyperbole in this account, it might be helpful to imagine the gender roles reversed.  What if a famous woman minister returned to her hotel room after a night of preaching to the masses and found a naked man sprawled on her bed?  I hardly think she would have the luxury of separating herself from all encounters with men in order to avoid scandal.  This version of the story would likely have her limiting encounters with this individual man out of fear of assault, not out of fear of scandal.  Of course, the Billy Graham rule also seems to limit contact with any non-Christians, thus violating Title VII based on not only gender, but also religion.

Pence’s ego drives the decision to discriminate, just as Trump’s drives him to harass and assault.  (*See The New York Timestranscript of Donald Trump’s comments about women.)  As you can see, we have here not the Tale of Two Harassers, but a White House of virulently white, pro-Christian, pro-male men.  Pence castigates women (limits hiring, work access, and promotion of women in high-level government) because he doesn’t trust himself, and Trump speaks of violating women because they are mere objects for his consumption.  Again, Pence alienates women with a weird version of pedestal politics: his wife Karen is somehow pure through her singular connection to him, but all other women are just Biblical temptress bots.  Trump alienates women by verbally and physically harassing them individually and en masse, thus training women to raise red flags around him, while also cementing their place as the non-hireables.  These two powerful men distance those who are unlike them (non-white; non-man; non-Christian) and, in particular, privilege their power in the public sphere over everything else.

As I write in Gender Shrapnel, these behaviors have broad implications for people of color, non-Christians, and women as individuals and as members of specific groups.  Individuals who experience the Pence-type discrimination and/or the Trump-branded harassment are limited in their horizontal movements, that is, their movement through the work day.  These individuals won’t be invited to power lunches or golf games, where networking and decision-making take place, and they might have to actively avoid a harasser whose physical presence threatens, looms, and impedes work production.  Discriminatory and harassing behaviors also suppress vertical movement, or the ability to advance in the workplace through good work, collaboration, and professionalism.  Members of groups offered protections under Title VII law can sense themselves as further limited by a group identification (or, importantly, a perceived group identification) that is undervalued or even actively discriminated against.  The Title VII protections are often difficult to enact, especially in conservative judicial districts in many areas of the United States.  Nothing like having the White House be the beacon of bad (and illegal) behavior.

It was the worst of times; it was the worst of times.

(But at least we have late-night comedy and The Onion:  http://www.theonion.com/article/mike-pence-asks-waiter-remove-mrs-butterworth-tabl-55661)

Sexual Assault Prevention Training in the News

The Chronicle of Higher Education reports (3-31-17) that Brandon E. Banks, a former Vanderbilt University student and football player charged in a rape case from June, 2013, has spoken at several universities to student-athletes about sexual assault.  This subsequent Chronicle piece [4-2-17], titled “Victim in Vanderbilt Rape Case is Shocked That a Suspect Is Speaking on Campuses,” says that at least five universities have hosted Banks. Banks has visited these campuses in conjunction with Tyrone White, who is described in the earlier Chronicle piece as “a motivational speaker and former coach who organizes speaking events.”

White’s website underscores the main theme of “winning in life.” In addition, the website bills one of White’s speaking programs with the headline, “Say ‘NO!’ to Hook-Up Drama: Skills to wisely navigate intimate relationships.”  One of the bulleted points on the side states that students will learn “how to get appropriate help if the ‘drama’ becomes violent.” The use of “drama” as a term for sexual assault or sexual violence is deeply problematic, as is the inclusion of a speaker who is currently facing sexual assault charges.  I’m not saying that there isn’t something to learn about these situations and quite possibly from these individuals, but I am saying that the programming seems more than insensitive to victims’ rights in general and very specifically to the young woman who is alleged to have been the victim of “multiple counts of aggravated rape and other charges” (Chronicle, 3-31-17).

It wasn’t until this tour, targeted at student-athletes (described just as “athletes” in the 3-31-17 Chronicle piece), brought White and Banks to Louisiana State University that members of a university community raised objections.  The e-mail invitation to the event reportedly featured Banks’ imminent sentencing as a reason to attend the talk.  This seems to exploit both alleged perpetrator and victim.  The 3-31 Chronicle piece appropriately signals that the e-mail invitation assured potential attendees that the session would be over before the start of the NCAA national championship game for men’s basketball.  (You can learn about sexual assault, guys, but we won’t take up too much of your valuable time.)

According to the Chronicle, Tyrone White billed Brandon Banks as “not [the victim’s] hero” and highlighted the increased difficulties in Banks’s life since the incident.  Faculty at LSU perceived this whole invitation as “a tone-deaf mistake by the athletics department” (Chronicle, 3-31-17).  This is certainly true, but the invitation is more than just tone-deaf.  It reveals a continued desire to focus on the alleged perpetrator’s changed life, instead of that of the victim’s, to give the alleged perpetrator a microphone and public mode of reconciliation at the cost of the victim, and to reinforce old gender scripts that cast woman as victim and man as her savior.  Let me put it bluntly: Imagine you were raped by four men, some of whom photographed the assaults, and then you saw reputable universities inviting one of those men, his sentencing for felony charges imminent, to share his wisdom about sexual assault cases.  I believe you would be retraumatized by the original incident and the lightness with which it was considered by several universities (don’t worry—you’ll make it on time to the Final Four, folks!).  I believe you might think you might have a little more to offer in the realm of sexual assault prevention training.

The Chronicle (3-31-17) reports that faculty members were concerned about the following related issues: the University was booking an “untutored, ungraduated athlete who is on the brink of standing trial for a felony”; the University didn’t go to the root of the problem; the presentation seemed to lack scholarly grounding; faculty members would like more collaboration on these issues between athletics and academics.  These faculty concerns, echoed by many LSU students, are valid and should be considered an important part of prevention programs.  The “hero” and “winning” rhetoric touted by White reinforces hypermasculinist behaviors and casts women as victims.

Chief of Naval Operations, Admiral John Richardson, issued a statement on 3-14-17 that called his “team” to solve the problems of “disrespecting women by crude jokes, wisecracks, sexual harassment, and in its worst manifestations, sexual assault—a serious violent crime.”  Richardson says that “in teams, there are no bystanders.  We are all in.”  While on the face of it, these might seem like noble or appropriate words, they again reinforce gender scripts (the “respect” model, or the woman-on-the-pedestal model).  More importantly, these words are accompanied by a fierce us-versus-them rhetoric, exemplified in these statements: “We definitely don’t allow anybody to disrespect another teammate—we close ranks and protect”; “…to remain the world’s most powerful Navy we must be 100% focused on staying ahead of our competition…”; “There is no room in our Navy for toxic behavior.  It makes us weaker, and cedes advantage to the enemy.”  The “fighting words” model of sexual assault prevention might not be the best way to get people talking about actual violence.  In addition, as I say throughout Gender Shrapnel in the Academic Workplace, in the current climate, statements that invoke zero-tolerance policies tend to be full of bluster and bravado and hypocrisy.  We continue to tolerate sexual discrimination, harassment, retaliation, and assault—all the time.

In fact, these issues and their emphasis on bystander intervention underscore some of the shortcomings of current approaches to sexual assault prevention.  Bystander intervention is of fundamental importance, but it cannot be the only approach to solving the problem of sexual violence on campuses.  Some programs based on bystander intervention ignore root causes of gender-based violence and neglect to link sexual assault to patterns of sexual discrimination, harassment, and retaliation.

Women’s and gender studies scholars and students have a lot to offer to organizations seeking to provide sexual assault prevention training, staring with undoing gender binaries and age-old gender scripts.  For example, see the AAUW’s tool kit for sexual assault prevention.