Miss Nevada and Self-Defense

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by Julie Baldwin and Katie Robison
The Corner with a View
Laughter is Love

Trigger warning: rape discussion

Miss Nevada, Nia Sanchez, is the the new Miss USA. Sanchez made headlines when she advocated women learning self-defense as a way to defend one's self against sexual attack. Miss Nevada is a fourth degree black belt in taekwondo, and her response is being construed as "victim blaming". Let's discuss why this is not a "win" for rape culture, but a practical measure for all women.

The Washington Post reported,

Miss Nevada, the ultimate winner, was asked about the epidemic of sexual assault on campuses. Rumer Willis inquired why colleges have “swept it under the rug.” 

This is actually a serious question. 

“I believe that some colleges may potentially be afraid of having a bad reputation and that would be a reason it could be swept under the rug, because they don’t want that to come out into the public,” Nia  Sanchez said. “But I think more awareness is very important so women can learn how to protect themselves. Myself, as a fourth-degree black belt, I learned from a young age that you need to be confident and be able to defend yourself. And I think that’s something that we should start to really implement for a lot of women.”

The comment the writer of the aforementioned article followed up by saying,

This is not a bad answer, although the problem of prevention isn’t a simple question of confident women learning self-defense techniques against Stranger Danger (Sanchez’s professed specialty). For one, it usually isn’t a stranger. For another, the onus shouldn’t have to be on women to become self-defense experts. It’s on everyone to establish a baseline of consent.

But the general backlash is clear: Sanchez is victim blaming.

Invading the Man Cave

By Joy Pullmann

My dad is in the basement as I write, grinding something that reverberates throughout the house. He and my husband are taking a week to finish as much of our ugly basement as possible. The plans are glorious: a guest room and second bathroom. But the process has so far been pretty messy. 

Having my dad around for a week is unusual, as he and my mom live eight hours away, so the differences in our house are pronounced enough for me to observe them. One is the voracity with which he and my husband can and do talk football. I'm treated to stacks of football talk when my brother-in-law visits every few weeks, too, and again the difference in conversation in our household is jarring. I never knew there could be so many details and statistics to pore over in such a basic-looking game. I mean, it's a bunch of fat guys smashing into each other repeatedly. But not to my men. It's psychological, social, tactical, physical, and more. I suppose I get this detailed and loquacious when you get me talking about literary criticism or education theory, but not about many "girl things" like cooking or crafts, both of which I enjoy. Perhaps I just don't know comparatively many detailed things about sewing or baking.

It's not just football, though. My husband and some of his man friends also like to intricately discuss theology, which also is a signal for me to leave the room before I pass out from boredom. I don't think theology is necessarily a manly topic like football quite evidently is, but at least in our seminary town, more men get into it than women.

There's been some talk on the Internets lately about "the male friendship crisis," or that men's relationships have deteriorated over the past several decades. Some people say it's because men just need to become more like women: more apt to discuss people and feelings rather than objects and ideas. Others say it's because there's nowhere men can go be men together and let down their guard without the unnerving presence of women. I'm sure there are many combined reasons, but if we're picking between two I lean towards the latter.

Here's Bill McMorris in The Federalist:

The erosion of “male space,” as psychologist Helen Smith convincingly argued in her otherwise problematic book, “Men on Strike,” has played a key role in the social isolation of men. “Our culture has steadily made it almost obscene for men to congregate on their own together,” Smith writes. “Men are discouraged and actively made fun of or denied the ability to be in all-male groups by the law and by the disapproval of certain segments of the culture.” 

One thing that never occurs to Wade is that women have an easier time forming intimate relationships because men aren’t trying to elbow their way into their heart-to-heart sessions. Men do not enjoy this luxury in the days of public shaming against the likes of (formerly) all-male Augusta National. 

I have a friend—a close one in fact, but we’d never say that aloud—who no longer goes to bars because he can’t enjoy a drink with Rihanna playing in the background. 

I used to be one of those women who disdained "man time." In college, my then-fiance was really into the idea, partly because he was in a men's music fraternity (dry house and an actual reason for getting together, so quite different from the typical frat scene). I was an equal opportunity disdainer, because I've never been much for "girl time," either. "Why do people who happen to have the same body parts have to feel a unique connection?" I thought. Plus, it was offensive to be excluded based on my body parts. I felt like the guys were essentially holding a secret club I couldn't join. So I tried a few times, but was either so thoroughly bored or disgusted I gave up that idea. Man time, like football and theology to me, really isn't that fetching.

Besides, being a man is, in its essence, membership in a club women can't, by definition, join. It's the same for being a woman. No man can understand what it's like to birth a child or have a period. Women will never as a class have high upper-body strength or facial hair (thank goodness). So maybe it's time to just let the men be men together.

Image by Tal Atlas.

In Defense of Emotions

By Mary C. Tillotson

Image by Alin Klim

When I was a sophomore in college, I dated a guy, and it wasn't a great relationship. I spent a huge amount of energy struggling with an intense desire to not be dating him alongside an inability to find a good reason why I shouldn't. "I don't want to" is selfish and therefore not a good enough reason (I reasoned) because that was based on emotion.

I spent the beginning of my senior year sighing to a friend that I was having the hardest time in the world getting over this other very attractive man. He was smart, mature, from Michigan, good with kids, and surrounded by plenty of other like-minded women at a college 500 miles away from me, and would graduate two years after I did.

When he asked me out later that fall, I was more relieved than anything else. Oh good. Now I don't have to get over you. We've been married for a little more than a year, and marrying him is one of the best decisions I've ever made.

In both cases, my emotions were right on (hindsight, and some friends I didn't listen to, told me the first guy had a lot more growing up to do), and my reason was off track. I've done some maturing since then, and I've come to realize that my strong hunches are generally on target. It sort of bothers me: like most people, I want to think I make rational decisions instead of emotional decisions. But, at least with me, my emotions are usually wiser.

Let's go back to college for a minute. I remember hearing some people say that women shouldn't learn Greek, or shouldn't earn Ph.Ds, or that women were generally less rational than men. All of this bothered me to the core, and I think much of it came out of the overeager liberal arts college student's zeal to save the world via Aristotle.

I think it's stupid to say women shouldn't learn Greek or earn Ph.Ds; if you're a woman and you want to, go for it. It's wrong to think of women as crazy, hormone-ridden creatures that can't be trusted with anything important or meaningful. It's inaccurate and insulting to think of women as a little less intelligent than men, or not quite up to speed.

But I'm haunted by the fact that my hunches are a better decision-making guide than my reason. It's not just relationships -- it's basically any big decision.