Lesson learned

Last week, two of my fellow columnists ran stories with similar themes.

Sam Ostrowski wrote about a singular incident in which a Kilroy’s bouncer verbally assaulted him with a homophobic slur.

The reaction was huge and rightfully so. Sam’s column was poignant, well-written and tackled an issue that needs to be addressed in our community.

The very next day, a piece appeared by columnist Emma Wenninger in which she recalled an entire week full of excessive verbal attacks and slut-shaming merely for being a woman on campus. The reaction to her column was not so huge.

Being harassed is not a competition, but for what reason would our community react so differently to these two incidents, or, in Emma’s case, multiple incidents?

Why was Sam’s writing a call to action, while Emma’s was business as usual?

Even Emma herself wrote, “We’re all trying to enjoy ourselves.”

No one wants to talk about women being harassed anymore. We’re good people. We were just trying to have fun.

And while Sam’s was not the first column to ever point out casual, juvenile harassment, neither was Emma’s.

In fact, it seems like we encounter issues surrounding homophobic, racist and misogynist speech on our campus with such frequency that some weeks, our editors ask us not to write about them.

But the way words like “slut” are thrown around in this community doesn’t have the least bit to do with slut-shaming or sexual promiscuity.

It has to do with cars full of immature, disgusting little boys, circle-jerking for who wants to be the loudest, the crudest and the funniest, screaming slurs at anyone they see who dares to walk anywhere.

A friend of mine couldn’t walk home from class this last week without being rated by two strangers drinking outside. Yes, they had cards with numbers on them.

I prefer to bike around Bloomington because it is easier to cope with harassment from people who hate cyclists than from people who just hate women.

People who hate both tend to be less vocal, as coming up with one insult that targets two things can be a little tricky.

My favorite was when someone shouted to me, “Are you Lance Armstong’s daughter?” My least favorite was when I was told, “Ride that bike like a dick.” Neither make a lot of sense.

But, with all of that being said, everyone is tired of reading about women getting called “slut” and women who are afraid to walk home alone.

We’re all tired of seeing peeling posters of Lauren Spierer’s fading visage all over the town. We’re tired of hearing strikers interrupt our classes, asking us to care. 

We’re tired of being told we’re being cheated by our administration and that our classes are a waste of time and money.

We’re tired of being told that we can be better.

Well, I’m tired of being called a “slut” for walking down the street and a “bitch” for speaking my mind, while my fellow students who have openly ridiculed the homeless are defended as “sweet girls.”

I’m tired of being told I’m overreacting for wanting to see change in the situations that most closely affect myself and my peers, the situations in which I have the most control and influence.

And I am full-to-the-brim, furiously, exhaustingly fed up with letting my peers think they are allowed to behave like cruel, insolent, disrespectful jerks and get away with it.

We can bike to Uganda all damn week, but we won’t give the time of day to those who share our community, or, perhaps more accurately, upon whose community we impose.

As much as I am ashamed of my school this week, I am also deeply proud.

For every batch of students who couldn’t care less, there is a small pocket of people who are hurting enough to fight back.

This has been a dark few weeks for us, Indiana, but I know we can do better.

From the truly kind and compassionate people I’ve met in the four years I’ve spent here, I know we are better.

Good luck with your next four years.

­— alliston@indiana.edu