Image from Rihanna’s Man Down video.
One of the reasons why I write about my experiences with street harassment, and the gendered and raced aspects of violence and the threat of violence, is to create a space to talk about how Black women historically and currently have to fight for the right to not be touched without consent by strangers AND people they know.
I often tell Black men, I don’t want you touching US without our consent and I don’t want the police touching YOU without your consent.
In simultaneously theorizing power, gender and race, most of the times- they get it. Other times they look at me like I am batshit.
@Dopegirlfresh has a post up at Feministe (follow her here) about how her eleven year old play niece *Brianna experienced sexual harassment and the threat of sexual violence, defended herself, YET, the police was called on the play niece.
It is powerful because @dopegirlfresh demonstrates the psychic violence that occurs when children are not protected from being assaulted by OTHER children or adults, it demonstrates how adults can be complicit in children being dominated, it demonstrates how Black bodies can get entangled in a criminal justice system when they have been in fact victimized and are in need of assistance. «<My inner lawyer just came out.
Dopegirlfresh writes,
To realize that Brianna had already internalized the idea that she was not worthy of protection (even by her own means) was absolutely heartbreaking for me. Already? She already knows nobody will give enough of a fuck? I felt betrayed. I felt all of the rage from my own experiences with street harassment and groping. I identify all forms of unwanted touching, especially in what I call the bathing suit areas, as sexual assault. And sometimes I forget that not everyone does. But, whether you think of these actions in a particular way or not, I have to ask: WHAT THE FUCK? Why make the child responsible when they’ve come to the clear realization that adult intervention is needed? Isn’t that your job as a fucking camp counselor or group leader or whatever title you’ve got?
At which point do we realize as little Black girls that other people will not give a fuck?
What happens to our sense of self when that happens?
How do we cope? What impact does that have on our sense of OUR sexualities?
*Name was changed to protect her identity.
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At which point do we realize as little Black girls that other people will not give a fuck?
I realized at 9 when while walking down the street, grown men would holler and approach to talk to me and everyone continued on as though that’s normal behavior. I realized at 15 when he grabbed my thigh on a subway as I was trying to get off. I realized at 17 when I was raped. It’s hard out here for a black girl.
What happens to our sense of self when that happens? How do we cope? What impact does that have on our sense of OUR sexualities?
For a while, I thought the street harassment was normal. All the black girls I knew experienced the same thing and there were no everyday models pointing a different way. Later on I changed my behavior, consciously and unconsciously. New routes home to avoid the corner full of guys, stopped wearing short skirts, stopped wearing shirts with slogans on them, etc.
Later in college, I turned to sex, alcohol and food as coping mechanisms. Unhealthy ones, but ones that dulled the pain for a while. Finally, when I realized everything else wasn’t working I went to see a psychologist. Individual and group therapy helped a lot. What also helped was realizing that I wasn’t the only one who’d gone thru similar experiences. Sharing by other black girls on tumblr, blogs, etc was a comfort in knowing that I wasn’t the only one who had experienced these things.
My sense of self initially diminished and shame is tricky shit to navigate, to a healthy place with a secure sense of self. One in which I trust myself and I trust others. But once I got it back and felt whole, not unbroken, it’s amazing. I’m discovering genuine happiness and the awesome power of a healthy relationship.
My God Honey.
Thank you for being honest. One of the things that I know about my blog is that while people may never, or rarely say it,
they appreciate it when I/you write honestly.
This is so powerful. I have a couple of other blog projects in the pipeline and I am so grateful that you shared because it reminds me that we can and WILL create spaces for each other to share our stories, and move on with our lives.
I wish you courage and hope and I am glad you are a reader AND a consistent commenter.
#ummhmm.
With Black Feminist Love,
~Allcity.