What We Choose To Enforce

Late, and excited to see an old friend and her Mom for lunch, I neglected to pull my seatbelt on in the 400 metres between Shoppers and Guys Bakery. The car was probably still beeping at me as I was pulled over. I buckled up as soon as I stopped. 

THE SEATBELT

When the police officer approached, he told me it was a seatbelt infraction and I confessed that I had just put it on. He made me do a breathalyzer asking if I had anything to drink in the last 15 minutes. I said no. It was noon. It took me 3 tries to complete the test as apparently I don't breathe the way the little machine needs me to.  

He handed me the garbage from the breathalyzer machine, first the piece of plastic that covered the little straw thing, then asked me to remove and dispose of the straw as well. He then retreated for the appropriate 10 minutes that is deemed enough time to make you consider your offence and be aptly deterred from doing it again. 

I thought about that as I sat on the roadside in the spotlight of shame with the police lights flashing behind me. I felt the tactics meant to elicit this response in me and couldn't help but note how effective they were. Then he returned with the consequences of my illegal behaviour. A $211 fine.

It struck me that we are fully capable as a society of influencing, over one generation, the automatic habits of a culture. We are fully capable of enforcing laws that would make us all feel safer and stop doing stupid things to put ourselves and others in danger. As the police officer reminded me twice, seatbelts are simply a non-negotiable and I shouldn't need the reminder. True.

It also struck me what we choose not to enforce in our society.  Rape and sexual assault have been in the news again for the way our cultural, institutional, and legal systems choose to just let that one go. We don't dole out consequences for that, or bother to shame perpetrators. We will, however, easily allow victims to bear the burden of both. 

THE RUNNER

Funnily, I had another traffic event this week in which I was in the wrong. I pulled up to an intersection and the hood of my vehicle crossed over the first crosswalk line. At that particular spot I know by habit you can't see left unless you pass the official stop line. A runner was just coming down the sidewalk and crossed in front as I waited. He was steamed at me for being in the crosswalk and stopped at my driver's window to give me a piece of his mind, ending with "I see you do this all the time, lady". I have no idea how to verify that, as I mostly drive my little car and that day was driving my husband's vehicle. 

Again, so easy to chastise me for my admitted traffic violation. I want to say I did not almost run him over. I watched him cross in front of me and mouthed "sorry" as he stepped around the front of my car, before he stood at the window I unrolled, and put me in my place. 

This encounter enforced the idea that we are capable of policing each others behaviour. We know when people are out of line and apparently can show vigilance in upholding obvious rules. We are capable, but where do we use this ability? Where do we not? 

Do you imagine this man is confident and comfortable pointing out infractions when it comes to how people treat each other, especially when it comes to women or minorities? Do you think he ever calls out a buddy for a lewd joke, or is willing to risk his social status to stand up for something that clearly is a violation of someone else besides him?

I wonder? Because like our cultural, institutional and legal systems, our day-to-day enforcement of rules tends to completely neglect a whole category of injustice. Anytime that injustice is done to a woman, her reputation or her body, everybody is happy to turn a blind eye. 

From the big systemic coverups we have seen at Hockey Canada and Cornell, to the misogynistic joke that everyone laughs at, as a society we have decided that we value tight traffic laws but go light on rape. 

TINY CASUAL MISOGYNY THAT SLIPS BY US DAILY

Both of these events came on the tail end of usual, casual remarks that remind us daily of what we care about and what we don't. A really good friend laughed over dinner about the "crazy lady that started the protest against the Oilers" but didn't really follow that whole Hockey Canada case so doesn't know much about this Formenton player and what all happened there.  And then the Shane Gillis SNL monologue calling women whores for their gym wardrobe was the big joke last weekend. Consider me reminded. 

Needless to say, I see the easy way women are constant collateral damage in a world where it isn't part of our psyche to shame or have consequences around it. 

These were the small glimpse I was given into what we and our systems will stand up for. And sadly, who and what we won't stand up for. 

WHAT WE COULD ENFORCE

Here is what I am considering as possible tools: 

• Name the act, not the person. “That joke isn’t funny to me” is maybe a better approach than “you’re a misogynist.”
• Ask a question and let it sit. “What’s funny about that?”
• A calm sentence, then stop. This one is so hard for me, because I want to lash out. But the pause works, like the time I sat waiting in my car for my ticket.
• Be the second voice. The first person to speak pays the highest social cost, and the second pays much less. Good men are especially powerful here because the room listens to them differently than it hears women. I am hoping for some great second voices if I am brave enough to be the first. 
• Know when to stay silent. And... like I was compliant in my traffic encounters, there are places we would be risking our own safety in speaking out. Practice Ahimsa, non-violence, for yourself as well. 

I know my feminine rage is capable of burning things down, and I know who it would hurt: the really good men I surround myself with and the women who don't want to be around when I cause a fuss.

HOW YOGA COMES IN

I’m asking how we practice Ahimsa and Satya. These come from the 8 limbs of Yoga. The first limb, the Yamas, offers five ethical restraints. The first two are Ahimsa/Non-Violence and Satya/Truth. These two have always been taught as essential to practice together. One without the other is in effective. 

Non-Violence without Truth is the surface conversation that never touches on anything real. It is "nice" and not honestly helping anything except always avoiding any discomfort.

Truth without Non-Violence can be a sword, cutting people as it is spoken.

Truth told without cruelty, that is our goal. Here’s what I noticed from getting pulled over. The officer never raised his voice, he told me my infraction, let the shame sink in for 10 minutes, and gave me the $211 consequence. It was calm, specific and completely routine. That’s what I want for the things we let slide: an orderly, routine process where it gets called out, over and over again until it is the default reaction of a whole population. A little shame and social consequence to break the silence that currently allows predation of women. 

I want to be the brave one in the room who calls out the inappropriate joke. I’m still learning how. And to the good men reading: you are the ones who can use these tools to back me up when I am brave, and to be the voice when no one else is. A single “not funny” from you carries weight it can’t carry from me. Say it calmly. Say it once. Say it every time.

Can you add to this conversation? Where is this happening well? What was said? What did YOU say? What changed the energy in the room to make women feel safe? Tell me in the comments.