I've never considered myself an active feminist by any means. I've never engaged in feminist activism nor have I ever raised my voice meaningfully on behalf of women, even in one of my thousands of pointless social media bits. This doesn't mean I'm not supportive. I was raised to treat all people, regardless of gender, race or religion with the same respect I would grant myself. I'm also aware of the deeply institutionalized sexism that has arguably grown stronger in its subtlety the term was ever coined. I consider myself utterly supportive of women in their oppression, I've just never felt I've done enough to warrant the title of "feminist" the same way many more heroic and outspoken people have done so.
It's not even something I think about every day, but an encounter with a friend over the weekend awakened a surprisingly acute sense of awareness and empathy for the women in my life and those that I see every day around Los Angeles. I've become accustomed to visiting L.A. bars to see many of musically oriented connections play just about every month. These connections are often young women who have migrated to this crazy city after growing out of small towns with a much less exciting reputation. They come in search of a glamorous career or at least some proximity to glamour. To the uninitiated, Los Angeles may seem like a dream world.
Long story short, it's quite the opposite. It can be described more appropriately as a dense, overpopulated and overpriced battleground where the harshest realities of capitalism, greed and the grim side of human nature are displayed in all their gory glory. There's only space for a small percentage of our inhabitants to "make it" and this forces everyone to climb over each other just to make a comfortable living. We don't just strive to make a living out here, we strive to be known. Narcissism is the epidemic at the heart of our city. I'm being hyperbolic, but unfortunately there's much truth to this.
It doesn't take a genius or L.A. native to understand that young women who come to L.A. in search of the glamorous life are almost immediately exposed to predators of all varieties. This city features the most colorful and expansive cast of mentally ill drug abusers, sleazy entertainment figures and your garden variety "douche bags" who smear gallons of cologne made of testosterone. All of these archetypes crave even the thought of a young woman for nefarious reasons. They have a vast repertoire of nefarious tricks to play upon a woman's naiveté in order to gain a dominant access of her beauty.
My friend is a guitar player from another country who came to LA just to play her music and hopefully forge out a career. That makes her a needle in a haystack here, but I do admire her drive and genuine passion for the craft. One of her regular activities is busking out on the boardwalk at Venice Beach. When she hinted that she runs into creeps on the boardwalk on a regular basis, I wasn't at all surprised. Unfortunately, it almost seems as if it's become the sad way of life here when a young woman does little more than walks out in shorts and naturally attracts the leers, catcalls and come-ons of one out of every ten male strangers.
I'm familiar with the narrative. However, I never really felt it until my friend described an experience from the day before in which she was provoked into a fight by a man who was trying to talk to her and became offended when she elected to keep playing music instead of devoting herself entirely to a stranger. He apparently responded to the rejection by putting pizza in her tip jar, prompting a physical altercation. She also recounted another experience in which a drug user broke a hole in her prized guitar. As a guitar player myself, there is no greater offense and no other option to cope other than physical retaliation.
I have my own complicated relationship with women in which I often find myself easily offended when spurned by them when I'm simply trying to be friendly or express romantic interest in an innocent manner. Being a minority often considered "invisible" in this country, I guess I've developed a sensitivity to being coldly dismissed, at no one's fault but my own. Sometimes it's difficult for me to accept the distance of others when I know my intentions are true.
This is of course, a completely unfair assessment of surface level relationships between men and women. Men have no right to force women into their lives and women have no obligations to engage with anyone unless it's their own personal wish. This is such a simple concept but as a man who is no stranger to rejection and the resulting bitterness, I often have a hard time remembering this. But my friend's story was so heartbreaking, it evoked an empathy within me where I was suddenly placed in a visceral situation in which I could fully identify with her.
I stopped viewing my friend as a woman for a moment and just thought of her as a person. A person who wants nothing more than to explore their passion for art. She has no ulterior motives or intent to hurt anyone. She just wants to play music for people. That is inherently noble, whether you're a man or a woman. Why then should she be subjected to strangers disrespecting her or stealing her time for their own pleasure? Why should she feel obligated to heed to the most unsavory lunatics who may even intend to physically harm her?
It was only my third time meeting this person but from the way she spoke, I could tell her barriers had significantly strengthened since I'd last seen her. In just a few words, she gave a complete insight into her current mentality. I could sense that she was fed up with men being drawn by her sexuality and continually crossing the line of rudeness into being plain threatening. For the first time I can remember in awhile, I wasn't at all critical of this girl's interaction with me. I didn't care whether she was being rude to me or not. My heart really hurt for her.
Women are judged much more harshly by their looks, to the point where their personalities or intelligence are completely cast aside. Asians have it hard in our own way, but I will never comprehend how it feels to be a woman. It's a grave injustice for someone to be robbed of their opportunity to simply be a person only to be judged in such a demeaning manner. There's the old cliche of women being "objectified" which has incurred a backlash of its own. I think a more appropriate analogy would be "animalizing" - treating women as subservient pets whose purpose in life is specifically to serve the happiness of men.
I'm not sure what specific effect this will have on my own life, but hopefully the next time I try to talk to a girl only to be cast aside, I will keep in mind that girl has probably been approached and perhaps threatened by ten other men that week and how is she to know I'm any different?
-J
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