I started this post as a reaction to watching ALLEN v. FARROW, a documentary series on HBO. It affected me deeply on both a personal and social level. I watched it, then stepped back to corral my emotions and thoughts into something coherent.
And what I have found is for me this goes so far beyond whether I believe Dylan Farrow (I do) or if I like Woody Allen films or think he’s a cultural icon (I don’t, and didn’t before the media storm)
Let me enter my personal bias. I am a victim of child sexual abuse. I’m not here to divulge details, just to state that the trauma I experienced at a young age had repercussions. I am an adult now, and have learned to cope and live with it. That is not to say that it never affects me.
Watching the home movies of Dylan Farrow had me crying and shaking. It’s in her eyes. The same confusion and pain I know so well.
This should never happen to a child.
Any child.
Never.
But it does. More frequently than we care to admit.
This documentary speaks to something else as well, something pervasive and made obvious by fame, but remains an insidious contributor to so many abuses.
Because something else happened while I was contemplating what to say.
A man went on a shooting rampage, killing eight people, mostly Asian women.
A white man.
Now, I have very little experience with discrimination. I am white. I am ostensibly Protestant (agnostic/atheist), I have privilege. I am aware of it. I try every day to be a better advocate and a better listener to those who experience the world differently.
And this, to me is the connective tissue between Dylan Farrow’s story and a random shooter.
Privilege.
It is an unfathomable blanket that excuses all sorts of abuse. It speaks of a disregard, a dehumanization, if you will, of anything the privileged feel entitled to.
My abuser felt privileged to my body.
Dylan Farrow’s abuser felt privileged to use hers, then use his wealth and influence to paint himself as a victim.
The shooter felt entitled to go on a rampage and take lives. He felt entitled to take his pain out on others. He was armed and dangerous, ready to continue to make others pay for his problems. He was privileged to arrest without incident or escalation. A sheriff’s department spokesperson claimed the murderer “it was a really bad day for him and this is what happened.”*
Excuse me?
I am not going to go into the racial inequality inherent in everything about the shooting incident, though I sorely want to, but I will keep it to the focus of privilege.
It is our cultural belief in a man’s, and in America particularly the white or wealthy man’s privilege to control the narrative, to dictate who is worthy to be heard, to ignore those that don’t serve their power.
The riot on the US Capitol, the fear of immigrants, this push for abortion control, the disrespect for women leaders, so many shootings, – there are so many I can’t even think of them all, even discounting the police bias controversy. (I support those brave men and women in law enforcement who are committed to safety and their communities- I believe they outnumber the monsters like Derek Chauvin, but there is work to be done.)
I believe the dynamic is changing.
Yet the more it changes, the more the good old boys react and lash out. They clutch to economic control, funneling money through the government to influence policy. They do it hiding behind religion and religious freedom as they push policies that control women’s bodies, threatening female body autonomy while scarfing down Viagra. They do it through the media and education, subtly propagating the idea of a society where everyone knows their place.
It’s ostensibly excusing a murderer for his sexual issues, issued that would be brandished as a weapon had he been anyone else. And let’s not forget, he had a bad day. (So many words and not enough.)
Is it religion? I do think religion did play a crucial role in setting up gender dynamics and assuring control remained in the male sphere. But I know many who are staunch in their faith, who are committed to respecting all humanity regardless of gender, sexual orientation, or pigmentation.
Is it testosterone? Does the male hormone really make men power-hungry nymphomaniacs? I don’t buy it. I know too many men who don’t view women as little more than walking, talking sex dolls. I know too many people who respect their fellow humans.
For a long time, my abuser controlled my life. He controlled my body. The abuse colored the way I viewed the world. My trauma did not occur on a global stage, yet my abuser felt the same entitlement to control the narrative. I could not say anything until I was forced.
I admire Dylan so much. So very, very much. While she was betrayed by a system that perpetrated her abusers lies, she found her voice, she reclaimed her power, and has not backed down.
My road was quieter, but I did the same.
And now, I believe society is reclaiming its power. Those who were abused by a system that serves the privileged few at the expense of the many are speaking out. They continue to fight.
They need to be listened to. They need to be believed. The abuse exists.
We have to stop blaming the victims.
We have to stop excusing the perpetrators.
He had a bad day.
Not as bad as those he murdered, or their families.
Not as bad as those who feel targeted or are afraid of being targeted.
We need to stop and listen and learn.
We can do better.
We MUST do better.
*Quote from Yahoo news.
Nancie Abuhaidar 