Feminism | Posted by Camille B on 04/5/2013
The Story of the Creepy Freshman
Last night I attended the Spring Dance at my (catholic, all-girls) school. I went with a guy named Enrique Iglesias.* He is a very nice guy, and by that I mean he knows how to effectively interact with other human beings and therefore instead of babysitting him I was free to just have fun. And that’s exactly what I did. I danced and danced…and danced. Now to be completely honest I have no rhythm whatsoever. But I do love to dance even if it is just failing my arms like a drunken chimpanzee.
As I was getting down on the dance floor a prepubescent freshman started grinding on me. Again, I just want to emphasize that I dance like an inebriated primate so I have to question hhis initial attraction. “OK,” I thought to myself, “Just push him off.” So I did and I thought that would be the end of that awkward experience. But no, this kid would not take no for an answer: he came back. I repeat he CAME BACK after I already said no. (Side note- I feel sorry for whoever brought this kid to the dance). That pushed me over the edge.
What kind of deranged society do we live in? This boy who I don’t know, who never even asked my permission, feels as if he has the right to touch MY body. The world we live in today provides the environment for this kind of behavior to be deemed appropriate. Women are seen as objects created just for the purpose of satisfying males. The whole system of grinding exemplifies this absurd notion. The girl gyrates against a guy’s crotch – she is usually the only one doing any work. I have witnessed situations where the guy is actually texting while the girl is grinding on him. Don’t get me wrong: if someone enjoys grinding they should go for it. But if a girl is doing it to just to please a guy or to fit into a social situation, it’s wrong.
Getting back to my story, I kind of lost it. I grabbed the kid’s shirt, turned around and yelled in his face, “Do that again and see what happens!” I was livid. The whole situation kind of ruined my night. Maybe I should have just ignored it and moved on but I couldn’t. Even though I knew I was right, I felt I had lived up to the angry black women stereotype.** I was embarrassed.
After that I couldn’t really dance. All I heard was the music’s sexist and demeaning lyrics. Before I felt so free and happy, but suddenly I again felt like that awkward big black girl in 6th grade gym who never got picked for capture the flag. I arrived home the next morning wondering why I had let an asshole change my night. I reached the conclusion that what he had done made me feel less like a person and more like an object. This is WHY WE NEED FEMINISM: women deserve to be treated like human beings, not objects.
*names have been changed to protect individuals involved
** You know the stereotype: black women are sassy and always have an attitude…especially when they are overweight.
Originally posted on A Feminist Stuck In Suburbia
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