Worth the tears

I watched a Canadian film, quite a while ago called, Sabah:  A Love Story.  It is about a Muslim woman who must follow her brother's orders because her father is dead.  She is treated like a child, like she has no intelligence.  She has permission to go swimming and meets a non-Muslim man she falls in love with.  In the course of the drama, we see how burdened the brother is with this culture.  It struck me that he was as burdened as his sisters, for whom he had to take full responsibility.  Oppression destroys all of us.

That being said, when men lose their humanity to such a point as to use rape as entertainment, I get angry enough to fantasize about castration.  I want to tell them,  "it's not a weapon.  If you don't know how to use it, then give it back.  You can't have one."

And as I noted before, only somewhat tongue-in-cheek, there should be honor killings.  Any man who is so dishonorable as to harass, to do violence to, to rape or torture or to hurt any woman does not deserve to be part of the family.  He destroys the family's integrity, and the basic humanity.

I have read the stories, I force myself to read the stories about rapes.  Even though it makes me nauseous and frightened, I read them.

And these girls are worth crying for.  But so are the boys who have so lost their souls that they are not even human anymore.  They lack even the tiniest bit of human decency.  What happened to them?  They can only rape if they have been raped...And since our culture disempowers us all, we have all been raped in so many ways.

And you should be sad.  We should all be sad.  This is the essence of being vulnerable.  You are empathetic and open to pain.  If ever there was a reason to cry, this incident is a strong one.

What breaks my heart is that there are so many incidents every day...so many people I know are in pain, and just trying to get through each day.

I have long been afraid to tell a story...but...I was at a fraternity at the university I attended.  I was studying with a friend.  His room-mate was also a very good friend.  At one point a creepy guy I had always disliked popped in the room and announced that they had a drunk girl in one of the rooms, and everyone was taking turns.  I was horrified, nauseated, scared witless.  Both of my friend looked embarrassed and refused to go.  But none of us spoke up for the women.  I am still ashamed of myself.  But I truly didn't know who to go to for help.  The power of the fraternities was/is immense.  And who was I.  What a lousy excuse for being a coward...I am still ashamed.  I also never studied at the frat house again.  When I worked with that friend, we met at the library.

Also in tears,

Clare