(no subject)
Dec. 4th, 2007 11:55 amAs our ministers prepare to retire, they're re-delivering some of the sermons they consider to be their greatest hits from the past. On Sunday, Phyllis preached a sermon she'd given on the fourth anniversary of the Ecole Polytechnique massacre, in which fourteen female engineering students were killed by a gunman who announced that he hated feminists. She talked about the massacre in detail, and the complexity of issues involved: should we think of it as a random act of evil by a deeply sick individual, or as part of a massive epidemic of violence against women?
She brought it home and made it personal, from both sides: she talked about being raped when she was thirteen years old, and she talked at length about the experience of finding out that one of her close friends ("a good liberal Unitarian-Universalist") had beaten both his wife and his daughter. She talked about how hard it was to report him, and how no one in that family - even the victims - will speak to her anymore. She talked about the necessity of taking action even when the problem is overwhelming and you know your actions probably won't be enough.
At the end of the sermon, she placed fourteen white roses in a vase while her husband and co-minister, John, read out the names of the fourteen women killed in Montreal. Then the congregation was invited to come forward and place additional roses in the vase in honor of other survivors or victims of violence against women. We closed with one of my favorite chants from the hymnal:
I know this rose will open
I know my fear will burn away
I know my soul will unfurl its wings
I know this rose will open.
It was one of the most intense services I've ever been to. I cried and cried. But it didn't just feel dismal. It felt like important emotional work.
Afterward, I've found myself stuck with one piece of the story that I hadn't known before. The Montreal gunman walked into a classroom and ordered the fifty male students and professor to leave. After they did, he shot the nine women who remained. It horrifies me to think of all of those men filing out of the room, knowing that they were leaving their classmates to be murdered. I can't help but contrast it with the elderly professor at Virginia Tech who blocked the classroom door with his body, sacrificing his life to give his students time to escape out the window. What would have happened if they'd tackled him? Sixty to one makes such different odds than nine to one.
Then I thought about all the times I've read in a news report about female hostages being released while men continued to be held. I've never asked myself whether women in that situation were wrong to leave.
I still don't know the answer. To either scenario.
She brought it home and made it personal, from both sides: she talked about being raped when she was thirteen years old, and she talked at length about the experience of finding out that one of her close friends ("a good liberal Unitarian-Universalist") had beaten both his wife and his daughter. She talked about how hard it was to report him, and how no one in that family - even the victims - will speak to her anymore. She talked about the necessity of taking action even when the problem is overwhelming and you know your actions probably won't be enough.
At the end of the sermon, she placed fourteen white roses in a vase while her husband and co-minister, John, read out the names of the fourteen women killed in Montreal. Then the congregation was invited to come forward and place additional roses in the vase in honor of other survivors or victims of violence against women. We closed with one of my favorite chants from the hymnal:
I know this rose will open
I know my fear will burn away
I know my soul will unfurl its wings
I know this rose will open.
It was one of the most intense services I've ever been to. I cried and cried. But it didn't just feel dismal. It felt like important emotional work.
Afterward, I've found myself stuck with one piece of the story that I hadn't known before. The Montreal gunman walked into a classroom and ordered the fifty male students and professor to leave. After they did, he shot the nine women who remained. It horrifies me to think of all of those men filing out of the room, knowing that they were leaving their classmates to be murdered. I can't help but contrast it with the elderly professor at Virginia Tech who blocked the classroom door with his body, sacrificing his life to give his students time to escape out the window. What would have happened if they'd tackled him? Sixty to one makes such different odds than nine to one.
Then I thought about all the times I've read in a news report about female hostages being released while men continued to be held. I've never asked myself whether women in that situation were wrong to leave.
I still don't know the answer. To either scenario.
no subject
Date: 2007-12-04 11:54 pm (UTC)It is interesting that there is a high level of tolerance for violence against boys and men (just as there has been traditionally a high level of tolerance for domestic violence against women or parental violence against children). There is often an assumption that men either brought it on themselves, deserved it, or can fight back, in ways that women/children cannot - since the assumption is that women and children are "weak" and men, well, aren't.
This was brought home to me when a good friend told me about how he was routinely beaten up at school from age 7 to age 9 by boys 2-5 years older than him. Once, they broke his arm. And no one did anything about it because "boys will be boys", "he needs to toughen up", "he brings it on himself by being a smart ass".
Violence begets violence. Those who feel weak prey on those they view as weaker - be they other men, or women or children.
This was a fitting service for the 16 days of activism against gender based violence.
no subject
Date: 2007-12-05 12:00 am (UTC)I'm well aware of how patriarchy affects men. I still stand by my comment that I've never seen men singled out for slaughter (I should clarify, in a North American context) in the way the women students were during that massacre.
no subject
Date: 2007-12-05 12:20 am (UTC)I still stand by my comment that I've never seen men singled out for slaughter (I should clarify, in a North American context) in the way the women students were during that massacre.
This is true, although I also can't think of any additional examples in which men were released in order to single out women for slaughter. Montreal seems to be a singular example.
I was thinking, more generally, about whether any moral qualms attach to accepting a reprieve knowing that others are put in greater risk thereby. I'm not sure that the motives of the attacker make much difference to the victims, although they certainly may to the survivors.
no subject
Date: 2007-12-05 12:29 am (UTC)What about the girls murdered at the Amish school recently? And of course the girls at Platte Canyon high school just a week or two before?
no subject
Date: 2007-12-05 01:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-05 01:31 am (UTC)