This afternoon, I went to the gas station to fill up the tank before going
shopping. It was in a less desirable area of town, but in broad daylight, I
figured I was safe. Apparently…not.
When I drove up, I saw a man in his 40s, covered in hair, weaving around like
he was drunk, with scribbles all over his shirt standing in the parking lot. I
figured it wouldn't be a problem, as he was near the building, while I was at
the farthest away line of pumps.
As I was trying to put my card into the pump to pay before pumping (this isn't Oregon,
dears. I gotta do it myself), I kept my eye on him to make sure he stayed away.
However, I accidentally made eye contact with him while trying to make sure he
didn't come near me. I instantly regretted it.
He came stumbling over to me, trying to talk
to me. I started signing, in the hope that he'd give up and go away. For the
first time since I could sign, it didn't work. He tried speaking with me, as he
leaned up against the pump, leering at me, slurring what little I could hear of
his words. He wanted to talk with me, he wanted to spend time with me. Yes, he
understood I was Deaf. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out what
looked like a knife set in a sheath. I almost started panicking, then and
there. He then pulled a sharpie out of this sheath, still weaving around like
he had no connection with reality, and started drawing circles all over his
shirt.
And I was still signing, trying to make him go away. I couldn't hear anyone
since I was too close to the highway, and since he hadn't touched me, I
couldn't scream or call 911…I felt helpless. And I could not make him go away. Looking
at the pump I saw a small blue button; (GOD
BLESS WHOEVER MADE THAT BUTTON) that said "help." I pressed it and the
machine blinked "A cashier will be with you soon." I turned my
attention back to finishing gassing up the car, anxiously looking towards the
building, hoping someone would come.
As I was waiting for the car to finish gassing, I looked at the guy who had
pulled into the pump behind me and was gassing his own car. I made eye contact
with him, and all he did was he just shake his head, finish gassing, and drive
off. I felt utter despair. I was ALONE.
The
pump jumped as the handle clicked open; I turned back, putting the nozzle away.
The man was still standing there leering at me and trying to talk with me,
making no move to go away.. I started trying to plan how to get away. Could I get into my car without him trying
to get in? What if he got into the car WITH ME? HOW do I get away?!
At that moment, my call for help was heard; the little blue button. The manager
came out, and instantly deduced the problem. He started telling the man to go away,
driving him away, and giving me time to get in my car and LEAVE. But before I
got into the car, I caught a tiny bit of what he was saying; he pointed to the
help button and told me that it gives him an audible alert in the store, which
he hears whenever we push it. That button may have saved my life. I pulled out
of there so fast that if I'd gone any faster, I'd have hit something.
But the rape culture aspect really came into play when I called my parents.
After seeing if I was ok, the first thing after that was, "Why didn't you
scream?" THAT is rape culture. Not, "why didn't the guy behind you step
in and help you?" Not, "why didn't the guy back off?" Not,
"why didn't the street sweeper back at the entrance step in?" No, the
first question was, "what did Kiwi do wrong?"
This
is how our culture thinks about women. What did the woman do wrong? Not, "why
didn't somebody step in and help when she was too scared to think?" And
this prevailing mentality shapes our EVERY DAY.
Let me tell you what my day is like because of rape culture. I get up and when
it's time to get dressed, I look at my clothes and say, "Is this immodest?
Will guys yell at me and whistle at me if I wear this? What am I showing? Are
these clothes SAFE?"
I go out the front door and I'm
immediately scanning, even before I turn around to lock the door, 'is someone
out there who shouldn't be out there?' I lock the door and head to the car, and
as I go through the gate to the cars, I look around, 'is there someone beside
the cars? Is the guy in his swim trunks there again? (There is no pool around here!)
Or is there a gang member there who might ask me if I'm Russian Mafia…AGAIN?"
I get in my car and lock the doors immediately, buckle myself in, and have the
car on and am peeling out of the parking lot in under two minutes. As I drive I
check my mirrors, "is there anyone following me?"
If I go to the store, I pull in, checking to make sure I'm not near a van with
a door opening onto the driver side of my car. If it's towards evening, I make
sure I park near the front and as close to a light as I can get. When I get
out, I have everything on me, and am checking to make sure no one is near my
car. I lock my car as I get out to save time, and am walking away from my car
to the store as fast as possible. I make eye contact with no men, and if anyone
is loitering, I try to make sure there is someone between me and them.
In the store, I make sure no one is following me. I keep an eye out for anyone
who looks scary, and keep track of who seems to be following me. After
checkout, I check my receipt before I get out the door, as I won't look at it
again until I get home. I get my cart to the car, checking behind me for anyone
following me. If there is someone suspicious by my car, I go back in and get
someone to walk me out, or I wait. I open the door behind me, with the cart in
front of me, so that no one can come up behind me and grab me, and they'd have
to reach over the cart to touch me. I load as quickly as possible, turn the
cart around, lock the car again, put the cart away and come back. I get into
the car, my purse already off, lock the doors, turn the car on, put it in gear,
take off the brake, and I'm out of there in under two minutes. Again, I check
for anyone following me.
This is life as a woman in rape culture. We HAVE to watch wherever we go. We
have to be on guard, because if something happens, it's inevitably blamed on
us. "Why did you go there? Why didn't you scream? Why didn't you….?"
There is always something more that we "SHOULD" have done.
Do you know there are places I don't go because I'm afraid of being raped? Do
you realize that I can't even walk outside at night, because if I'm raped then,
it's my fault? My life is governed by the fact that if I step out of line, if I
do something outside of what society finds acceptable and someone hurts me,
it's my fault. This is rape culture; the rapist gets away, but the victim is
asked why they didn't do more. And there is ALWAYS more we could have done. The
list is ENDLESS of ways you can blame the victim. And so, we live our lives
with every action we do governed by this
fear of being raped, and the fear of us being blamed for someone else attacking
us.
But let me tell you this; they're wrong. It's
not my fault if someone rapes me or hurts me when I'm in the "wrong"
place. I didn't make that guy be a creep today. Women don't force men to hurt
them. It's the men who hurt us that are wrong, but in a rape culture the victim
is always to blame. "She shouldn't have been in a bar." No, he
shouldn't have drugged her. "She shouldn't have been drunk." No, he
shouldn't have taken advantage of her when she was drinking like everyone else
was. "But she shouldn't have…!" NO! It is NOT her fault that HE chose to take advantage of a
situation in which she was vulnerable! There will ALWAYS be times when we are
vulnerable! There is no way to guard against vulnerability! It is everywhere!
The responsibility for rape and molestation lies solely on the man who assaults
the woman! NOT the other way around. But instead of realizing this, society
blames the victim. And most people don't even realize they're doing this.
Ask your mother if you don't believe me. Ask
your wife or sister. If we get hurt, it's our fault unless we follow every rule
that everyone has for being safe; and then we still did something wrong. This
is rape culture.
