Let’s be real. If little girls’ knees, shoulders, and clavicles are a problem for male teachers, you don’t have a dress code issue. You have a pedophile issue.
This is a super important topic we don’t talk about because we want children to listen to and respect adults. That’s what children are supposed to do.
But why?
I remember being a child and asking for a reason that X thing had to happen. “Because I’m the adult/mom/dad/teacher, and I said so!” I was told. You were almost certainly told this as well, I’d be genuinely surprised if you grew up and no one ever said this to you. Like me, you probably thought that was a complete bullshit response, but you had no power. Now, I do have power. I am in charge of my students. Every single time they ask me anything, I have a reason. If I don’t, I tell them I will find out and then I report back to them. Never, ever, will I tell them they should just go along with something because I’m an adult in a position of power over them.
“Because I hated it as a kid” isn’t my own reason. We adults are wanting children and teens to grow up thinking for themselves. They’re often criticized for making “stupid” decisions and “not thinking things through”. How can we foster a thinking environment for them when all we do is demand they mindlessly follow directions?
I remember being a child and having to hear “the talk” about “bad people” and “bad touches”. Bad touches were touches on my private parts, as well as “unwanted touches”. I have to scream “no!” if someone tries to touch me and I don’t want them to touch me. Imagine my surprise when I was pinched really hard for saying “no!” when I was told to hug a stranger goodbye. I didn’t want to hug this stranger, but this stranger-to-me was a friend-to-parent. My consent didn’t matter. “Uncomfortable touch” didn’t matter. Whatever my parents said, that’s what mattered.
“Ooooh GIRL! I’d fuck you!” some guys shouted at my from a car at a red light. I was in the car next to them, it was summer so our windows were rolled down. I shouted back something to express my extreme disinterest. This is what I normally did/do when I receive(d) unwanted attention, it’s not a big deal, and life goes on. This particular time, though, my mother was in the car. She scolded me for not happily accepting this commentary because “they’re just being nice”. She also pressured me to go to prom with an absolute creep (I didn’t go) because, “He likes you, he’s nice to you, and no one else is going to ask you anyway.” He was a creep because he wouldn’t stop talking sexually about women around me, recommending I “give it a try”, and declared “dibbs” on my body simply because we talked. Yeah, totally nice. No thanks.
This is the same person who told me to watch out because anyone can be a rapist. The same person that told me to learn how to discern who’s a good person and who’s a creep. This same person was asking me to ignore all that advice for…well, I’m not really sure why.
Even today, I’m not a very touchy person. There are people I do accept in my personal bubble, and we hug and that’s fine. But there are people I do not accept in my personal bubble, and I will give them the awkward “here’s a handshake even though you’re moving in for a hug” dance. I can do this because I’m an adult (though many adults do feel social pressure to hug when they don’t want to).
To my fellow adults, let your children decide who they consent to hugging. It is only for the sake of tradition (and thus committing the “appeal to tradition” logical fallacy) that you demand they hug people they don’t want to hug. You were in their shoes before; recall that time and respect that they don’t want to hug people sometimes. Maybe you think their reasons are stupid, maybe you don’t understand their reasoning, maybe they tell you “no reason” when you ask why they don’t want to hug grandma today. Whatever it is, respect the fact they made a command decision about their body. Do not pressure them into just going along with it because you’re the adult and it’s “rude” not to do it. That same mentality will be used against them if your child is alone with a child molester, so don’t let them have this argument in their favor.
To minors reading this, gently remind the adult in your life that you are trying to learn your bodily boundaries, and to be guilted or forced into violating your personal space by an adult you trust is upsetting and confusing for you. I can’t guarantee they’ll behave maturely when you bring it up, but all you can do is bring it up.
I was wearing this outfit today to a grocery store when I made a baby smile. I was wearing this outfit today when I threw my head back and laughed, when I sang in the car with my family, when I filled it with yummy food to keep it healthy.
I was wearing this outfit today to a grocery store when I overheard a woman telling her young daughter who was pointing and laughing that I would get what’s coming to me. I was wearing this outfit today when a woman told a man that it was the wrong kind of attention and that I was asking for someone to get me. I was wearing this outfit today when the same man stared at my body longingly and then agreed with the woman that I was asking for an attack.
I was not wearing this outfit when I was raped. I was wearing a size XXL hoodie and a pair of my mom’s sweatpants, much to the shock of the friend I told after, who asked what she’d been taught to ask: “What were you wearing?”. I feel so terrible for the little girl whose mother was teaching her at the grocery store that she deserved to be assaulted if she dressed comfortably for the weather, which was climbing above 80 degrees, or for an injury, which called for a brace and a boot that doesn’t allow room for long pants, or for her body, because it’s hers and she can put on it what she damn well pleases. I feel terrible for the man who will look me up and down as though I was a 5 for $20 steak deal he might purchase and will immediately after speak to a presumable stranger about the violent fate I deserved. I feel terrible for the woman with fabulous hair who feels she can express herself but refuses to let me do the same.
Summer is coming up. It’s hot outside. I have an injured ankle, and a tight boot and brace to wear on one leg. I will not dress uncomfortably to protect complete strangers who are so offended by an expanse of skin that they console themselves by predicting my next rape.
Stop perpetuating slut-shaming and thus perpetuating a culture of excused rape. Stop perpetuating slut-shaming and thus perpetuating a culture of insecurity, inherent shame, and body image distortion which can cause an innumerable amount of incredibly dark issues nearly impossible to overcome.
My body is mine, and I love it. It is the house I live in, with which I will someday create a family, with which I run and dance and hold the strong lungs I use to sing. I refuse to be ashamed of it for any reason, especially the reason being that this culture which glorifies sex and punishes those who have it, which encourages being sexy and then preaches that sexy girls ask for attack, has taught its people that my stomach is a sin.
Please think twice this summer before you choose to say anything at all to or about anyone who wears something they choose to wear. Please think twice before you say that a girl deserves to be raped for wearing shorts. Please try and catch yourself when you think things like that. Please be courteous and gentle and loving, and spend your effort tackling real problems. My stomach and legs are not a real problem.
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