Byron Hurt: Why I Am a Male Feminist

The word turns off a lot of men (insert snarky comment about man-hating feminazis here) -- and women. But here's why black men should be embracing the "f" word.

Why I Am a Male Feminist
by Byron Hurt

When I was a little boy, my mother and father used to argue a lot. Some mornings, I would wake up to the alarming sound of my parents arguing loudly. The disagreement would continue until my father would yell with finality, "That is it! I'm not talking about this anymore!" The dispute would end right there. My mother never got the last word.

My dad's yelling made me shrink in fear; I wanted to do something to make him stop raging against my mother. In those moments, I felt powerless because I was too small to confront my father. I learned early that he had an unfair advantage because of his gender. His size, strength and power intimidated my mother. I never saw my father hit her, but I did witness how injurious his verbal jabs could be when they landed on my mom's psyche.

My father didn't always mistreat my mother, but when he did, I identified with her pain, not his bullying. When he hurt her, he hurt me, too. My mother and I had a special bond. She was funny, smart, loving and beautiful. She was a great listener who made me feel special and important. And whenever the going got tough, she was my rock and my foundation.

One morning, after my father yelled at my mom during an argument, she and I stood in the bathroom together, alone, getting ready for the day ahead of us. The tension in the house was as thick as a cloud of dark smoke. I could tell that my mother was upset. "I love you, Ma, but I just wish that you had a little more spunk when you argue with Daddy," I said, low enough so my father couldn't hear me. She looked at me, rubbed my back and forced a smile.

I so badly wanted my mother to stand up for herself. I didn't understand why she had to submit to him whenever they fought. Who was he to lay down the law in the household? What made him so special?

I grew to resent my father's dominance in the household, even though I loved him as dearly as I loved my mother. His anger and intimidation shut down my mother, sister and me from freely expressing our opinions whenever they didn't sit well with his own. Something about the inequity in their relationship felt unjust to me, but at that young age, I couldn't articulate why.

One day, as we sat at the kitchen table after another of their many spats, my mother told me, "Byron, don't ever treat a woman the way your father treats me." I wish I had listened to her advice.

As I grew older and got into my own relationships with girls and women, I sometimes behaved as I saw my father behave. I, too, became defensive and verbally abusive whenever the girl or woman I was dating criticized or challenged me. I would belittle my girlfriends by scrutinizing their weight or their choices in clothes. In one particular college relationship, I often used my physical size to intimidate my petite girlfriend, standing over her and yelling to get my point across during arguments.

I had internalized what I had seen in my home and was slowly becoming what I had disdained as a young boy. Although my mother attempted to teach me better, I, like a lot of boys and men, felt entitled to mistreat the female gender when it benefited me to do so.

After graduating from college, I needed a job. I learned about a new outreach program that was set to launch. It was called the Mentors in Violence Prevention Project. As a student-athlete, I had done community outreach, and the MVP Project seemed like a good gig until I got a real job in my field: journalism.

Founded by Jackson Katz, the MVP Project was designed to use the status of athletes to make gender violence socially unacceptable. When I met with Katz, I didn't realize that the project was a domestic violence prevention program. Had I known that, I wouldn't have gone in for the job interview.

So when Katz explained that they were looking to hire a man to help institutionalize curricula about preventing gender violence at high schools and colleges around the country, I almost walked out the door. But during my interview, Katz asked me an interesting question. "Byron, how does African-American men's violence against African-American women uplift the African-American community?"

No one had ever asked me that question before. As an African-American man who was deeply concerned about race issues, I had never given much thought about how emotional abuse, battering, sexual assault, street harassment and rape could affect an entire community, just as racism does.

Read the Full Essay @ theRoot.com

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Byron Hurt is an award-winning documentary filmmaker and anti-sexist activist.

50 Cent's Twitter feed: Brilliant marketing or irresponsible behavior

We want to meet the real Curtis behind the $500 million empire.

50 Cent's Twitter Feed:
Brilliant Marketing or Irresponsible Behavior?
by Mark Anthony Neal | TheLoop21

50 Cent (Curtis Jackson) has a Twitter account. Given the rather mundane content of most of his recent recordings, no one should really care. But more than 3 million people do care enough to follow 50 Cent and the travails of his rumored love bunny Chelsea Handler. He rarely has anything of substance to say—which is not to say that some of his observations aren’t funny. It is perhaps marketing genius that the rapper-mogul has become a Twitter celebrity—separate and distinct from his real life celebrity.

50 Cent’s use of Twitter is the perfect example of the ways that mainstream celebrities, particularly rappers, have sought to distinguish between their branded selves and their individual selves. For example, as Snoop Dogg continues to sell music, it was Calvin Broadus the doting, Cliff Huxtable-like father who was the star of the E!’s Fatherhood.

While California Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger rarely has to distance himself from his Terminator character, rappers are almost never given the opportunity distance themselves from their rap personas. There are also quite a few rappers who invest in those personas 24-7, because they are so lucrative.

As such, I’m grown enough to know that that the music of 50 Cent, which I largely despise, is not the sum total of the man named Curtis Jackson, who by-the-way, is worth more than $500 million. With the help of figures like Chris Lightly, Jackson has become a savvy businessman and 50 Cent’s presence on Twitter is just an extension of his acute sense of how to effectively market his persona.

Even 50 Cent’s dog—Oprah Winafree—has gotten in on the act, as 50 Cent presumably ghost-tweets the dog’s twitter alias OprahtheDog. Perhaps even Jackson’s team is behind Twitter’s @English50Cent, which translates 50 Cent’s tweets into “standard” English. As a whole there’s a Bakhtin-esque quality to 50 Cent’s tweeter presence, that suggest high satire more than utter ignorance.

Read the Full Essay @ theLoop21

A 'Precious' Debate

“Precious,” about a disadvantaged young woman played by Gabourey Sidibe, left, has sparked controversy over its meaning.

To Blacks, Precious Is ‘Demeaned’ or ‘Angelic’
by FELICIA R. LEE
Published: November 20, 2009

A reinforcement of noxious stereotypes or a realistic and therapeutic portrayal of a black family in America?

“Precious: Based on the Novel ‘Push’ by Sapphire,” the new film about an obese, poor, illiterate, young black woman who is sexually and emotionally abused, has sparked this heartfelt and at times heated debate about its meaning in the two weeks since its limited release.

Now, as it opens nationwide in 100 markets this weekend, the conversation about which black stories are told, and how, is bound to intensify, thanks to post-screening discussion groups; the cultural influence of two of the movie’s executive producers, Oprah Winfrey and Tyler Perry; and the Oscar buzz the critically acclaimed film has already begun generating.

“In some ways, it’s ‘The Color Purple’ all over again, with people writing and talking about what this film represents,” said Mark Anthony Neal, a professor who teaches black popular culture at Duke University. He was referring to the 1985 film based on the novel by Alice Walker, which was directed by Steven Spielberg and starred Ms. Winfrey.

Read full article @ The New York Times

Black Women's Health and Domestic Violence

Black men need to wake up to the facts on our women's health
by Mark Anthony Neal

October is both Breast Cancer Awareness Month as well as Domestic Abuse Awareness Month and, on the surface, the two seem to have little in common except concern for the quality of women's lives. Most men understand that breast cancer and domestic violence represent forms of crisis in the lives of black women, but I'd like to suggest that our dismissive attitude towards women's health care issues represent a form of abuse itself.

According to the Chicago Foundation for Women "violence against women and girls is a cradle-to-grave epidemic." The Institute on Domestic Violence in the African-American Community at the University of Minnesota found that black women were 30 percent more likely to be subject to domestic violence than white women and 250 percent more likely to be the subject of such violence than men. Additionally, black women account for more than 20 percent of the homicides associated with domestic violence despite only representing 8 percent of the national population.

Thankfully, there is now a generation of men, including activists and educators like Jackson Katz, Quentin Walcott, director of the CONNECT's Community Empowerment Program in New York, Ulester Douglass of Men Stopping Violence in Georgia and filmmaker Byron Hurt who are providing leadership in getting men of all races to understand their complicity in violence against women. It is still a struggle to get men to speak out against violence against women, but the aforementioned men represent tremendous growth in that regard.

Thanks to organizations like Susan G. Komen for the Cure, the foundation behind the pink ribbons and wrist bands so prominently featured during Breast Cancer Awareness Month, society is beginning to grapple with the disproportionate effect of the disease on black women, who, while less likely to get the disease than their white peers, are far more likely to die from it.

There are lots of reasons for the discrepancies between black and white women, but I'd like to highlight the roles that black women play as caretakers and nurturers in our communities. Also, black women are seemingly more willing to address the high incidence of hypertension and prostate disease among black men, often at the expense of addressing their own health issues.

Ironically, few black men seem to take the same interest in black women's health concerns or their own health issues for that matter. Men have been socialized to think of diseases like breast cancer, fibroids and osteoporosis, as simply examples of "women's diseases." Some men are likely to dismiss diseases that disproportionately affect women, because they were told as boys that it was "mommy's time of the month," distancing them from women's health issues. Nevertheless, black men must take greater responsibility in increasing their awareness of diseases that afflict their mothers, sisters, daughters, wives and friends.

For example, some studies have shown that 80 percent of all black women suffer from some form of fibroid disease, yet most black men are oblivious to the effects of the disease. Could you imagine a disease that afflicted 80 percent of black men that black women would be largely ignorant of?

In many ways our willing ignorance about black women's health issues represents a form of abuse. As healthcare issues remain critical to black America, it is incumbent on black men to get serious about finding out about the diseases that affect the women in our communities with the same passion that some of us have begun to address domestic violence.

Originally Published @ theGrio.com

Make In Plain: Reading Nas’s Letter to ‘Young Warriors’

special to NewBlackMan

Make In Plain: Reading Nas’s Letter to ‘Young Warriors’
by David Ikard

So rapper Nas wrote an open letter to black male teens that condemned the senseless killing of honors student Derrion Albert and issued a plea to young black men to stop taking their social frustrations out on each other. He writes passionately:

“Killing each other is definitely played out. Being hurt from the lost of a love one was never cool. Dear Young Warriors fighting the wrong war! I know that feeling, that frustration with life and needing to take it out on someone, any one. But we chose the dumbest things to go the hardest for. I remember seeing deaths over 8 ball jackets, Filas, and name plate chains. Deaths over ‘he say she say’!!!!! ‘I’m from this block or I’m from that block”, or ‘my moms n pops is f***ed up now the whole world gotta pay!!!”

Even though Nas’s words hit home for a great many black and brown folks that are forced to contend with such violence on the daily—either from each other or the criminal justice system—there were several feminist groups that were quick to indict his gesture. Referring to Nas as a “washed up” and “sorry azz” rapper, blogger Sandra Rose refused to post his open letter on her blog, writing

“Here’s a man (and I use the term loosely) whose violent lyrics helped contribute to the environment that bred the wild children who opened up another child’s head with sticks and laughed while doing it.”

On the politically progressive website whataboutourdaughters.com—whose expressed raison d'etre is “to use economic power to impose economic sanctions on those who are producing destructive images of black women and girls”—the acid attacks on Nas continue. Zeroing in the Nas’s reference to young black men as “warriors,” one blogger writes, “Let’s call these people what they are URBAN TERRORISTS! Their war is against US—innocent black civilians trying to make our way in the world the best way we know how.” The terms “savage” and “savagery” emerged time and again as references to these young urban black men on other blog entries. This is not to say that there weren’t other blogs that avoided such jabs because there were. The most insightful engaged our nation’s preoccupation with thug images of black masculinity, a preoccupation that works directly to undermine the presence and productivity of honor students such as Albert.

I focus here more on the acidic ones because as a black man invested in progressive antisexist, antiracist, anti-capitalistic models of empower, I don’t see how these gendered attacks against Nas and young urban black men help us initiate the kinds of substantive dialogue about hyper-black masculinity and culturally sanctioned violence against black women that we advocate.

There is no debating that Nas’ patriarchal rhetoric reinforces the hyper-black masculinity discourse that is partly to blame for why these young men acted out in the vicious ways that they did. But, he clearly does not see that. Even though he does not possess the critical and historical frameworks to fully understand his complicity in the status quo, he clearly knows that something about the ways that black men are thinking about their manhood and expressing their anger is wrongheaded. He also knows—and is indeed trying to fend off with his references to this young men as “warriors”—that the tendency in the public domain is for our nation to write these boys off as “savages,” “thugs,” “urban terrorists,” and the like.

However impolitic is his expression of concern, Nas is rightly trying to refocus the debate on the patterns of structural inequality that encourage such black-on-black violence. Rather than attack the brotha’s language and shortsighted patriarchal politics, we should reach out to him. Send him what Mark Anthony Neal’s calls a “black feminist care package,” including books by scholar-activists like Barbara Smith, Angela Davis, Patricia Hill-Collins, Michael Awkward, Nellie McKay, Mark Anthony Neal, and Joan Morgan. We should think of this intervention as—dare I say—a “teaching moment” for Nas and the male-centric black communities.

And, since good teaching is always a two-way street, we should also remain open to what we can learn from Nas and those brothas and sistas that come out of these environments. Indeed, street literacy in the form of understanding how black masculinity is performed and read in certain ‘hoods can be a matter of life and death. However productive and smart we might think our theories for resolving these problems are, if they are divorced materially from the realities on the ground, then they are essentially bankrupt. If someone is hungry, she is more likely to hear and appreciate your theories about resolving her hunger after you address the most pressing concern and give her something to eat. No matter how smart or useful is your theory for resolving hunger, if you skip this vital step, you lose the interest—and perhaps even the respect—of your audience.

Suffice it to say, that if our goal is to reach out and help transform our communities on issues of gender and violence, then its high time that we start “keeping it real” about the limitations of our vantage points and theories. To riff on Mohandas Gandhi’s poignant words, “we have to become the change we want to see” in black communities.

***

DAVID IKARD, Assistant Professor, Ph.D, University of Wisconsin-Madison (2002), specializes in twentieth century literature (with a specialty in African American), black feminist criticism, hip hop culture, and black masculinity studies. In 2007, he published his first book, Breaking The Silence: Toward a Black Male Feminist Criticism and was also awarded a Ford Postdoctoral Fellowship. His current book length project reconsiders rigid identity-focused approaches to African American Literature with an eye towards developing expansive critical models of black humanity.

For Every Chris & Rihanna, There Are Dozens of Cases Like This

from The Washington Post

Charges Are Filed In Triple Stabbing
D.C. Family Says Woman's Boyfriend Has Violent History
By Matt Zapotosky and Hamil R. Harris
Washington Post Staff Writers
Monday, March 23, 2009; B01

For years, family members feared that Erika Peters's volatile relationship with her live-in boyfriend would end in tragedy, her sister said. The family was so worried that they developed a code with Peters's oldest son so he could surreptitiously communicate with them.

On Saturday, Peters's sister Kimberly Trimble said, Erik used the code, telling his grandmother, "The sky is blue," to alert her that something was amiss. Hours later, police broke into his family's apartment in the 2000 block of Maryland Avenue NE to find him, his brother and his mother with stab wounds, police sources said. Peters, 37, and her younger son were dead. Erik died a short time later.

Police announced yesterday that they had charged Peters's boyfriend, 44-year-old Joseph Randolph Mays, with the triple slaying. To family members, the announcement came as little surprise.

"We knew about him beating the kids, but she wouldn't leave," Trimble said. "I don't know if she's scared of him or what the case may be." Trimble said she did not think that Peters ever sought a protective order.

Read the Full Story @

Guest Post: Esther Armah on Rihanna & Chris Brown

special to NewBlackMan

THE NEXT IKE AND TINA?
by Esther Armah

“Yo! Check this out! Rihanna all battered, dyamn! She look like Tina musta did!.” The scene is a New York library session with a group of high school teenagers. Young women and men scramble over chairs to get to the computer screen where the young man is seated. One teenage boy, hand over his mouth, points and creates rapid fire scenarios around the image. Another laughs. Others point at her bruises. And there are those who are quiet, shocked at the picture. Bruised, battered, busted, Baijan singer Rihanna, eyes closed, is their focus. This is the picture that travelled the globe, followed by an affidavit that colored in details from the alleged assault by her pop star boyfriend Chris Brown. Raucous and rowdy, the librarian hushes them. Blame is thrown around like a ragdoll. Some blame Rihanna. Two question Chris Brown. Words like forgiveness, money, light-skinned beauty, provocation are slung, momentarily explored, discarded. They go quiet. The teenager who found the image on the computer shouts: “They like the new Ike and Tina?!”

Really? Chris Brown = Ike. Rihanna = Tina. Really. Tina Turner? Living legend, she of ‘Proud Mary’, and ‘Nutbush City Limits’ fame. She who endured violence at the hands of Ike throughout her 16 year marriage. And Ike? He of flashy clothes, musical vision, fierce musical independence and creativity. And later of voracious cocaine use and legendary temper fame. He who ended up in and out of jail. Both brought to life courtesy of Oscar worthy performances by Angela Bassett and Lawrence Fishburne in the July 93 film ‘What’s Love Got To Do With It?’ Still, how frightening that Chris at just 19 and Rihanna at just 21, should be doomed to a relationship marked by nearly two decades of cycles of violence as told in her biography ”I, Tina”. Tina left. In the end. She went on. She got strong. She healed. She recovered. She spit in Ike’s eye with each step of her success. Ike became the focus of ridicule. Broke, a self-imploding sad dude, high on stories of has-been glory, continually denying the violence and for whom many showed more than a little contempt. Tina & Ike. We know Tina’s story. We’re still learning Rihannas’. And that of every other black girl who knows Rihanna’s bruises intimately, and who has stared in the mirror at unrecognizable features.

The numbers say that most often a Tina would be dead at the hands of the man who she shared the aisle, vows, a gold band and a bed with – or a Rihanna who shared an intimate space with her alleged abuser. The number one killer of African-American women ages 15 to 34 is homicide, at the hands of a current or former intimate partner, according to the American Bar Association’s Commission on Domestic Violence. The same study showed Black females experienced intimate partner violence at a rate 35% higher than that of white females, and about 22 times the rate of women of other races. Every number is a personal tale, a truth hidden, bruises covered, pain buried. Brenda Thomas’s book ‘Laying Down My Burdens’ shared her own behind the headlines story of a 15 year violent relationship – one that she finally escaped, but whose scars she carries. A new report “Black Girls in New York City; Untold Strength and Resilience,” by the Black Women for Black Girls Giving Circle (BWBG), a funding initiative of The Twenty-First Century Foundation and the Institute for Women’s Policy Research (IWPR) revealed violence remained a major fear for young black girls - and that they expected to have to protect themselves.

To the high school teenagers in that library, I wonder what Ike and Tina represent. Their laughter isn’t easy. Or comfortable. But it is there. Their eyes tell a separate truth from their laughter. They check one another’s reaction before offering their own. Older women watch them, unimpressed. Their conversation spins and spits at the video vixening of black women. They lament how these young women have been “ized” and “fied” - categor-ized, demon-ized, vili-fied, sexual-ized. I watch too. Not just these women, but depictions of us right across myriad forms of media. We have become comatose cuties, walking wounded, part of the living dead wrapped in the kind of fly fabulosity that shields external bruises and hides broken hearts and souls – even as popular American culture elevates the broken and celebrates the aristocracy of mediocrity. Back at the library. Two generations of women. One turns in horror to hear the one behind it shrug and ask what the big deal is? Other women rail against each other. Fast girls, good girls, bad girls, brown girls, light girls - the labels signify whether the violent treatment was apparently deserved. Smart women, hood chicks, Afrocentric activists, weave on crew, corporate cuties – notions of how women should and shouldn’t behave to avoid being on the receiving end of violence are too often tempered with – but she shouldn’t have, or why did she, or she should’ve known……….The generations part – each slightly disgusted by the other.

BROKEN MANHOOD = REAL MAN?
Chris Brown points to a deeper conversation – the one about manhood and masculinity and what that means in America. It reeks of the beginnings on this land of a people for whom the legacy of the lash and the lynch have become seamless and intimate parts of their relationship with this soil and one another. We are on intimate terms with violence. That experience continues to haunt via the nightmares of young women whose reaction speaks of their socialization in the acceptance of violence. What kind of man is he? Thug. Hood. Aggressive. Sexy. The marriage of aggression with manhood is an integral part of patriarchal America. Ike was a badboy, a cocaine user, a man in charge of his woman. That equaled sexy. A real man. Chris is seen as a sweet boy, a young man, a good man. So Rihanna must have provoked him, so said so many. Chris Brown’s persona was that of the good boy, the sweet man, the clean cut image, the anti-gansta sweetness of r’n’b. That affected folks’ conclusion that he “simply wouldn’t go off like that without dire provocation.” Another truth? Violent, troubled men are using women’s bodies as battlegrounds. They are the places where their internal wars are waged, their rage is poured, insecurity is fought, disrespect is mastered, pain is smothered. And then society – us, we, you, me, he, she – weighs in with versions and visions of how it happened, whose truth and whose lies linger, whose fault it is, what she should do, how he should act, that he should be forgiven, that she should know better than to provoke, that he was provoked. Manhood, masculinity and violence in America are so intimately intertwined, that to talk about violence and men is to have a conversation and exploration about what it is to be a man in America – and around the world. Add to that the protective posture of black folk when it comes to the brothers. They face such vulnerability due to the various assaults by society. So they are protected. Trouble is the way we protect young black men has been and continues to be via the sacrifice of young women. Add to that the created persona of celebrity, where image is truth, perception is everything. And versions of yourself can be packaged and sold as part of the commodification that is so much of today's black music – sometimes genius, sometimes tragic. Action around manhood does exist. Conversations about black manhood are present and live right here in New York – and across the States. Examples? ‘The Masculinity Project”, a major offering exploring the complex dynamic of manhood via film, exhibitions, personal testimony. The 10-city “State of Black Men National Townhall Meetings” tour in 2004, the 2007 “Black and Male in America, a 3-Day National Conference” followed up with monthly all male forums in Brooklyn that explore topics such as spirituality, physical health, mental wellness. All these events denote black male activists’ commitment to exploring masculinity – and the link between that and violence. And then there are the books. The most recent such as the moving and thoughtful “Be A Father To Your Child:Real Talk from Black Men on Family, Love and Fatherhood”. Edited by writer and activist April Silver, and featuring short stories, essays, interviews and poems by 25 men - a mix of activists, musicians, writers, educators and poets. There's also “The Beautiful Struggle,” by Ta’Nehisi Coates to name just two. Other books like “Black Pain: It Only Looks Like We’re Not Hurting,” by Terrie Williams reveals the untold story of black folk and depression, a sometimes contributory factor to violence. So often, domestic violence and its condemnation or discussion is led by women. In New York men like award winning film-maker Byron Hurt have been engaged in exploring masculinity and its association with violence, and his upcoming annual event “Stand Up…and Speak Out”, an annual conference in New York on May 21 and May 22nd organized by “A Call To Men”, an organization committed to ending violence against girls and women continues that work. He is one of many, many male activists right here in New York doing this work around manhood and masculinity in America. Movements of men are a welcome - and much needed - addition to the voices of women raised in continued protest and condemnation around relationship violence. For the daughters and the sons who are witnesses and who navigate this troubled terrain, this work is precious.

TRAUMA = DOLLARS
Healing. The healing is the universal word and work much needed, but also much maligned. Healing developed a bad rap. Even as it continued to be crucial. Healing got turned out like a whore by a pimp. Trauma became an industry, laid out on its back by publishing pimps who sniffed the green in the drama and spewed forth lecturers, authors, wannabe wannabes all espousing that delivery of demons lay in self love. The young women who called me after my special live radio show on violence talked about that. Some were pissed. They asked of self-love, where do I get that? Who can give me that? What would it look like? No glib notions for them. Explanations, they wanted. Break it down, they demanded. Explain where we get that, they asked. What would it feel like? And they were not satisfied with trite answers. One woman offered; ‘saying ‘you need to love yourself” is not helpful’. She continued: “clearly I don’t. I don’t know how. “ Don’t tell me what to do, show me how to do it.” Some young women spoke about the hypocrisy of healing from a previous generation. They spoke about a place where healing was little more than a conversation that sold books, created lecture circuits, and glibly paraphrased lives, experiences, complexities into neat caged sentences. The clarity of crap dominated pages of work. That’s what they thought. And they didn’t like it. It didn’t help them. Their anger at this industry for the apparently traumatized prompted suspicion and levels of contempt. They wanted answers, facts, details. And then there was a generation of women that admonished their youngsters to put away the pity party and pull themselves together. So some became silent. Or they lied. Or denied. Or built shields and armor. Learned behavior poured from breast to mouth, via the broken love of procreating previous generations doing the best they could with what they had. Healing? What did a road to recovery even look like?

ROAD TO RECOVERY……..Long and winding road…
Kyra, Ceillise, Nyema and La-vainna. Spanning a decade – from 11 to 21, each endured violence at the hands of a boy or a man. All were featured on the live radio specials for Wake Up Call, a morning talk show I host on WBAI99.5FM over a two week period. A media appetite for blood and gore prevails when it comes to domestic violence stories. Battered women, and those that batter fulfil the gory-ometer level where the news has more drama than dramas. Recovery is less sexy. It makes fewer headlines. Provokes less discussion. Sells fewer papers. Means less viewers. Equals loss of listeners. But that’s where the real work is. Erica Ford of L.I.F.E., a non-profit organization based in Queens that deals with troubled young people between the ages of 13-24 typically on the receiving end of some form of violence speaks about committing federal dollars to this work of practical healing that is long and often difficult. Her project is specifically devoted to the holistic healing of these youngsters. But it ain’t just federal, how about community dollars, ask some? Real ones, not punk dollars, states one young woman. Just as they wanted real recovery, not punk healing. They don’t want to hear what they call the proclamation healing. The proclamation without the acceptance. Not the: “I will never raise my hand to a woman again,” which one young lady likened to an alcoholic swearing they would never take a drink again, but then getting a job in a bar. Especially since, she explained, many still want to negotiate what violence means – and that no bruising or battering meant that violence hadn’t taken place. “They still negotiatin’, while I’m tryin’ to clean myself up from the pain.” Some of these younger women accused older generations – and since they are in their early 20s, they meant anyone over 35 – with hypocrisy about the notion of healing. Some explained they feel sacrificed as they listen to women negotiate acceptable levels of violence from men towards women, and then chastise their behavior. They question this notion of role-models. One said “y’all still want educated thugs, and I ain’t know the difference ‘tween an educated thug and a violent dude. Most thugs got smarts, so when dude smacks me, then yáll wanna know why I choose him. Cos you did, cos y’all did.” With recovery, these women, these witnesses to the violence between adults they love, despise and fear ask: What does a man who used to hit a woman and says he doesn’t now – where is his program? Alcoholics got a 12 step program, regular meetings, drug addicts got rehab? What about rage? How does he deal with the triggers that prompt his rage to turn into a closed fist and then a black eye? Where does he go for his sessions to tackle that rage.? What happens before rage becomes a closed fist against smooth chocolate, caramel or mocha skin that becomes a bruised, black eye – and worse? And the young men say little or nothing, struggling to control emotions but refusing to engage in any external source to quell feelings that may ultimately erupt and turn a woman into that statistic about homicide quoted earlier. One young woman said: ‘my dad had a ritual. Before he ever laid a hand on my Mama I saw there were a bunch of things he would do, so I had maybe five minutes to get outta there or find somewhere to take cover’. Others described the violence as uncontrollable and explosive. One said: ‘disagree with my Pops, expect to get a slap, then another then another, then it was on.’ Another explained: “Pops would, like black out, he wasn’t himself anymore. I wanted to ask him, where do you go? Why can’t you control where you go? If you say you’re not going to hit any more what did you do to change that?” Acceptance maybe one thing. Recovery is the next – and that is the patient, diligent, difficult, persistent work of therapy and more. Blame, like judgement, paralyzes and silences. Young women’s bodies cannot continue to be a battleground for the righteous indignation, pain and rage of black men. Young women are not just asking men to stop. They want us to heal, to do the work. All of us. Them, their men, their parents, their community. Are we willing to hear this call to practical healing? La-vainna Seaton is 17. Her friend approached her at school. Explained her boyfriend hit her. Asked for advice. What should she do? La-vainna told her: ‘where there is love, abuse cannot exist’.

***

Esther Armah is an award-winning international journalist, a radio host, a playwright and an author. Armah host 'Wake Up Call' on WBAI99.5FM New York and the tri-state area and ‘Off The Page’ on WBAI99.5FM. Every FIRST and THIRD FRIDAY of the month. 11am – 12noon.

Bakari Kitwana on Rihanna, Chris Brown and Partner/Domestic Violence

from NewsOne

A Hip-Hop Response To Chris Brown & Rihanna
By Bakari Kitwana

For nearly an entire week, the Chris Brown/Rihanna alleged abuse incident has dominated major news media headlines. Unfortunately, these sensationalized reports did less to elucidate the national epidemic of violence against women and more to cement into our national psyche the idea that the new face of domestic abuse is young, Black and hip-hop. Instead of accepting sole responsibility for one of America’s most neglected pathologies, young Americans should turn this tragedy into an opportunity.

In the last two election cycles, hip-hop led the way in making involvement in national elections fashionable among youth. Hip-hop political organizers could do the same in extending that influence into the arena of public policy with the goal of establishing an innovative solution to abuse that shifts the way the nation thinks about its treatment of women.

The election of President Barack Obama, with young people across race supporting him long before even the African American community’s vote was solidified, marked the first political victory for this generation. Two-thirds of the 23 million young Americans 18-29 who voted in the 2008 presidential election voted for Barack Obama. These same young people taking the lead on a public policy solution to end dating violence would be an important second act.

Contrary to public opinion the hip-hop community has a long history of resisting the status quo of domestic abuse, misogyny and gender inequity. From books like Tracy Sharpley-Whiting’s Pimps Up, Hos Down and films like Aishah Simmons’ No! The Rape Documentary to organizations like the Center for Young Women’s development and Industry Ears, Inc., there is an emerging hip-hop generation leadership that has its finger on the pulse of a change agenda for women.

Such an agenda is reflected in the nearly 5000 comments posted on Blackplanet.com responding to Chris Brown and Rihanna newsone.com updates. The overwhelming mood of these comments was that the Black community needed to separate itself from stereotypes of domestic violence. Blackplanet.com members even spontaneously created online discussion groups to address the issue.

The media’s obsession with the Chris Brown/Rihanna incident, alongside a new administration that seems to take the debt it owes young voters seriously offers young political organizers a rare opportunity for this generation to take the lead on dating and domestic abuse.

Read the Full Essay HERE

More Rihanna & Chris: A Lawyer's View

special to NewBlackMan

Domestic Violence: A Lawyer's Notes
from Brian Gilmore

Watching the Chris Brown-Rihanna fiasco continue to unfold, I am remembering my days as a lawyer at a local DC law firm where on more than one occasion, I was a lawyer in domestic violence cases. These cases are not my most enjoyable moments as a lawyer but the experience did afford me the unique perspective of working both sides of a domestic violence tragedy: the victim and the perpetrator.

It is important to point out at the beginning that the fact that it is now rumored that Chris Brown and Rihanna are back together is not strange to me; this is typical. I also resist calling Rihanna an "idiot" as some have done already or calling her "foolish" for her alleged decision to accept Brown back into her life. If Rihanna had walked away forever, or if Brown had issued a public apology announcing he was wrong and that he would not approach her ever again, I would have fainted. Domestic violence, and the reasons behind the incidents, and the destructive relationships, is very complex, and needless to say, awfully difficult to understand.

In fact, the fact that Brown was communicating readily with Rihanna almost right away tells me that one critical component was already absent from the case: no stay away order was probably ever entered in the case. This was Rihanna’s first mistake and perhaps a mistake by the authorities as well who should have issued one anyway until they understood what was happening. The stay away order would have let Brown know this is over and this is serious.

Working domestic violence cases is among the most difficult things I have done as a lawyer. This is because ethical obligations rule the day and not your personal feelings about domestic abuse. Domestic violence in America is epidemic and it is especially horrific in the black community. Most of the cases I had involved men attacking women so I won’t engage in fantasy. The issue is further impacted in Black America due to poverty and dysfunctional family arrangements. In other words, the problem is worse than most of us are willing to admit.

If you don't believe it: take a visit to the D.C. Superior Court to the domestic violence daily courtrooms or to the courtrooms set aside for domestic violence in most major cities. It is disturbing the number of cases that are handled each day. Even more disturbing (from a personal standpoint) is that most of the cases where I stood in for the accused, nothing ever happens. The accused gets a slap on the wrist, if that, and the victim goes home sometimes hoping to get back with the accused quickly.

In D.C., domestic violence is assembly line litigation. There are so many cases, the court has set up a system where the accused can agree to the CPO ( a stay away order) and no hearing is held. You can be out of the courthouse in a few hours with that one. The parties consent to a stay away order and all is well again. The judge will read the consent order and then the clerk will announce the next case.

The consent order will reflect the fact that there is no admission of any wrongdoing. The accused must stay away from the victim for one year. This, on many occasions, does not happen.

Sometimes, the accused and the victim have already starting talking again by voice mail, text messages, or through other people. They might be “back together” by the afternoon following the court hearing.

Sometimes the victim, the half careful victims, despite impending reconciliation, get the stay away order anyway just in case their significant other gets violent again. They can then invoke the order and get the person away from them quickly. The really careful people get the order and also insist upon a hearing to put the violence on record.

As for the accused, most of the accused take the consent order without admissions quickly if they can get it. It keeps the evidence of their foul behavior off the record and it might allow them to resume their relationship anew. I suspect that Chris Brown would love it if Rihanna never actually goes on record about anything. If she doesn’t say anything, there isn’t anything except tabloid reports and rumor.

On the other side, representing victims is not easy as well. While it is not necessary usually for a victim to have a lawyer, sometimes they do need one especially if the accused has a lawyer. But the major problem here is usually by the time the case arrives into court, the accused and the victim are cozy again.

In fact, you might file the case or the victim might file the case, and then the accused, receiving the paperwork, will spring into action.

Somehow, they will open the lines of communication again. They might open the lines before the papers calling for them to appear in court to answer the charges are served. Usually, the initial allegations will also include a temporary stay away order that lasts about 2 weeks.

Once the accused receives this order they cannot call the victim but perhaps one of the victim’s friends will call, or a friend of them both, someone might be available to get the couple talking again. This happens all the time and sometimes it is the victim’s parents who feel that the accused, their significant other, is a good person. It doesn’t help that the parents know the accused well.

And this is where the difficulty begins for the lawyer.

The victim, despite the pain and suffering, feels hurt and dumped. They want to reconcile on many occasions. People are telling them not to pursue the case; others are telling them to go all the way. Have a hearing, make a record, show the world what a rat he really is. They are, therefore, torn and a part of them does not want to cooperate while another part wants to make the person pay.

My most difficult task as a lawyer was always to try to get them to follow through all the way and pursue their complaint. Usually, the accused would ask for a continuance to locate counsel. This would buy them time to work behind the scenes.

I hated this part of the cases because to represent a victim is always much more satisfying than representing someone who actually engaged in violent conduct against another. In fact, some of the accused abusers I assisted, were, in my view, individuals who lacked any redeeming qualities.

The court would enter the continuance and would also keep the temporary stay away order in place. The accused could not call the victim or even contact them through anyone. But that didn’t stop the games from beginning, very dangerous games.

The next two weeks would be simply about people putting pressure behind the scenes on the victim to not appear in court in two weeks and let the complaint go away quietly. If you don't appear, the case will die. I have seen men mumble in the hallways letting their former lovers see them hurting (allegedly hurting) for the pain they have afflicted. It is one of many clever moves that men use at the courthouse to stop the wheels of justice. Imagine, the perpetrator seeking sympathy. They probably should seek counseling and treatment for deep seated problems.

But still it would play out. The victim would be told: it was all a mistake. The person didn’t mean it. You don’t want to cooperate; they might throw them in jail and what would happen then. If there are children this is even more complex because the argument is made that the children would lose their father and would also lose any chance at child support if the person was incarcerated.

This, I admit, would be tough but in most cases, it is better to be alone and poor than remain in an abusive, destructive relationship. Children are hardly a reason to go soft on an abuser.

As a lawyer, I would call the victim, my client, every few days and remind them of the court date, and ask them if anyone has tried to get you not to appear. Of course, they would almost always say: “no.” Of course, I knew this was not the case. I would urge them to go all the way.

And days later, in court, when they did not appear, I knew what had happened. Friends and family members had intervened or they had simply decided to forgive the person and let it go. I grew tired of it.

Regardless, I don’t know how many times I have had to advise the court that the victim, my client could not be located and would not appear. On occasion, I was cursed out by associates or parents of clients because I insisted that they come to court. They clearly did not get it. The case would be dismissed and everyone would get back to their lives.

Of course, weeks later, or a year later, the victim would call again and tell me that they had been beaten again, and this time they will go all the way and the cycle would start again. I wish I could tell you that they would go through with the hearings and appear. On occasion, the second incident reported was enough and the woman would ask for a full hearing or at least for the court to enter a stay away order.

Or on the other side, an accused would call because another stay away order had been issued against them. It would be the same person or if you know the system like I know it, it would be your client, the serial batterer, who had beaten a different woman this time, and this time the government wanted to prosecute.

I would refer them to a criminal defense attorney.

Those were the moments that caused me to stop doing domestic violence cases (on both sides). Too many lives lost, too much I could not control, too much drama for this lawyer to understand.

Of course, the Chris Brown-Rihanna saga, like any domestic violence situation, will play out in its own unique way. It is hoped that it does not end like these cases usually end.

***

Brian Gilmore, a poet and a lawyer, lives in Takoma Park, Md. He can be reached at pmproj@progressive.org.

Rihanna & Chris? A Missed Opportunity?

from New America Media

Chris Brown, Rihanna and Reality
by Elizabeth Méndez Berry
Mar 01, 2009

What happened between Chris Brown and Rihanna on February 7 is still unclear, and we will probably never know. What is clear is that relationship violence persists, largely ignored except when photogenic stars are involved.

For black women ages 15 to 29 —Rihanna’s demographic— homicide is the second leading cause of death, after accidents, according to the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. A woman’s most likely murderer is her current or former romantic partner.

The problem is widespread: the U.S. Department of Justice recently reported that in 2007 intimate partner assaults on women were up 42 percent. Sadly, the response to Brown and Rihanna reveals why this goes unchecked: more time is spent attacking the individuals than tackling the problem.

On the one hand, some in the media convicted Brown instantly. Presumed guilty in the court of public opinion, he lost lucrative endorsements and radio play. After the story broke on Feb. 9, there was a dominant point of view on two gossip sites with a mainly white female readership. Commentators on TMZ called Brown “a piece of garbage,” “a thug,” and “a vampire.” At PerezHilton: “You cannot take the hood outta these rats. Enough said.”

Other fans launched a ruthless defense of the impeccably packaged good guy via a smear campaign against the self-professed bad girl. On Bossip and Necole Bitchie, two sites popular with African-American women, many argued that a racist media had railroaded Brown. Instead, they tried and convicted Rihanna. Sample comments: “Caribbean women are crazy, she probably cut him." “This is a classic case of B.B.W syndrome BITTER BLACK WOMAN!!! She is straight trying to ruin him."

Read the Full Essay HERE

Chatting Up Chris & Rihanna...Again

from WNYC's Soundcheck

Pop Violence
Wednesday, February 25, 2009

The lives and lyrics of pop music are filled with domestic violence. The latest chapter: an alleged assault involving pop stars Rihanna and Chris Brown. Today we discuss the history of abuse in pop recordings -- and in real life. We're joined by Elizabeth Mendez Berry, a music journalist who has written about domestic violence in the hip-hop industry, and Mark Anthony Neal, professor of African-American studies at Duke University and author of the blog NewBlackMan.

Soundcheck blog: John Schaefer on Chris Brown and Rihanna

Listen HERE

A Black Male Feminist’s Guide to Anti-Misogynist Black Politics

special to NewBlackMan from CanWeBeFrank

A Black Male Feminist’s Guide to Anti-Misogynist Black Politics
(AKA: Why We Can’t Support Chris Brown)
by Frank Leon Roberts

Plain, Conversational Responses to Misogyny:

Misogynist Myth 1:
“Chris Brown is a good kid. Something must have really pushed him over the edge. He does not deserve to be dragged through the mud like this. Black men are always being represented as extra-sexist, which isn’t fair. Overall Chris Brown is great role model for black men. ”

Whenever we dare to critique black male sexism or misogyny, we are immediately told that such critiques are "wrong" because they run the risk of representing black men in a "negative" light. The time has come to move beyond these sort of Clarence Thomas politics. When black men---regardless of their class, sexual orientation, or profession----abuse a woman, it is intolerable, unacceptable, and must be aggressively denounced. Period.

We know this story all too well. When Clarence did it, it was “Anita’s fault.” When O.J. did it, it was “white people’s fault.” When R. Kelly “did it” it was those “jealous hoes’ fault.”

When will be allowed to denounce black male misogyny without fear of losing our Blackness membership card?

Misogynist Myth 2:
Rihanna must have “Provoked” It. She “asked” for it.

Sometimes I wonder how black people would respond if white people suddenly started offering “justifications” for our antebellum, slave ass-whippings. I can just imagine it now, “Well Kunte actually deserved that bloody lash because I told his sneaky ass to stop stepping out of line in the cotton field!”

I’m being dangerously facetious here, but my point should be well taken. There is no such thing as a “justification” for an act of sexist violence. In the moment that a man’s hands come down upon a woman’s body, they are immediately rooted (even if inadvertently) to a longer history of sexism and misogyny; to a history which has systematically preconditioned us to believe that physical violence is both a sane and natural way to put a woman “in her place.”

If we are to move beyond the cults of sexism and misogyny that run rampant in many black romantic relationships, then we must free ourselves from the egregiously problematic notion that casual male violence against women is ever “justified.” Particularly when it involves a 6’2, 180 pound man against a 5’8, 120 pound (a size “2”) woman.

Misogynist Myth #3:
Well, both of them were in the wrong. Why are we focusing exclusively on Chris Brown’s wrong-doing? Clearly this man needs help. Should’nt we be trying to support Chris Brown and make sure that he gets the help that he needs?

Any politics of social justice that does not begin with a concern, first and foremost for those MOST disadvantaged (i.e. the BATTERED rather than the BATTERER; the ABUSED rather than the ABUSER; the VICTIM of Violence rather than simply the Perpetrator of it) is misguided, and surely doomed for failure. I continue to believe in the utility of a "bottom's up" approach to social justice.

Therefore, we should refuse to let our "concern" for Chris Brown's "needs" silence our outrage, disgust, and/or disapproval of his misogyny.

Can I get a womanist, feminist Amen? A Witness?

***

Frank Leon Roberts is a Scholar-Critic. He is currently a Ph.D. candidate at New York University, where he specializes in African American and African Diaspora cultural studies. He graduated from NYU in 2004 with a B.A. in African American Studies and in English and American Literature where his mentor was historian E. Frances White. For Spring 2009, he is teaching in the Department of Social and Cultural Analysis at NYU (Gender and Sexuality Studies Program.)

Kevin Powell on Domestic Violence: Rihanna and Chris Brown

special to NewBlackMan

Rihanna/Chris Brown:
Ending Violence Against Women and Girls (The Remix)
By Kevin Powell

Writer's note:
Given all the hype and controversy around Chris Brown's alleged beating of Rihanna, I feel compelled to post this essay I originally wrote in late 2007, so that some of us can have an honest jump off point to discuss male violence against females, to discuss the need for ownership of past pains and traumas, to discuss the critical importance of therapy and healing. Let us pray for Rihanna, first and foremost, because no one deserves to be beaten, or beaten up. No one. And let us also pray that Chris Brown gets the help he needs by way of long-term counseling and alternative definitions of manhood rooted in nonviolence, real love, and, alas, real peace. And let us not forget that Rihanna and Chris Brown happen to be major pop stars, hence all the media coverage, blogs, etc. Violence against women and girls happen every single day on this planet without any notice from most of us. Until we begin to address that hard fact, until we all, males and females alike, make a commitment to ending the conditions that create that destructive behavior in the first place, it will not end any time soon. There will be more Rihannas and more Chris Browns.

In my recent travels and political and community work and speeches around the country, it became so very obvious that many American males are unaware of the monumental problems of domestic violence and sexual assault, against women and girls, in our nation. This seems as good a time as any to address this urgent and overlooked issue. Why is it that so few of us actually think about violence against women and girls, or think that it's our problem? Why do we go on believing it's all good, even as our sisters, our mothers, and our daughters suffer and a growing number of us participate in the brutality of berating, beating, or killing our female counterparts?

All you have to do is scan the local newspapers or ask the right questions of your circle of friends, neighbors, or co-workers on a regular basis, and you'll see and hear similar stories coming up again and again. There's the horribly tragic case of Megan Williams, a 20-year-old West Virginia woman, who was kidnapped for several days. The woman's captors forced her to eat rat droppings, choked her with a cable cord and stabbed her in the leg while calling her, a Black female, a racial slur, according to criminal complaints. They also poured hot water over her, made her drink from a toilet, and beat and sexually assaulted her during a span of about a week, the documents say. There's the woman I knew, in Atlanta, Georgia, whose enraged husband pummeled her at home, stalked her at work and, finally, in a fit of fury, stabbed her to death as her six-year-old son watched in horror. There's the woman from Minnesota, who showed up at a national male conference I organized a few months back with her two sons. She had heard about the conference through the media, and was essentially using the conference as a safe space away from her husband of fifteen years who, she said, savagely assaulted her throughout the entire marriage. The beatings were so bad, she said, both in front of her two boys and when she was alone with her husband that she had come to believe it was just a matter of time before her husband would end her life. She came to the conference out of desperation, because she felt all her pleas for help had fallen on deaf ears. There's my friend from Brooklyn, New York who knew, even as a little boy, that his father was hurting his mother, but the grim reality of the situation did not hit home for him until, while playing in a courtyard beneath his housing development, he saw his mother thrown from their apartment window by his father. There's my other friend from Indiana who grew up watching his father viciously kick his mother with his work boots, time and again, all the while angrily proclaiming that he was the man of the house, and that she needed to obey his orders.

Perhaps the most traumatic tale for me these past few years was the vile murder of Shani Baraka and her partner Rayshon Holmes in the summer of 2003. Shani, the daughter of eminent Newark, New Jersey poets and activists Amiri and Amina Baraka, had been living with her oldest sister, Wanda, part-time. Wanda was married to a man who was mad abusive-he was foul, vicious, dangerous. And it should be added that this man was "a community organizer." Wanda tried, on a number of occasions, to get away from this man. She called the police several times, sought protection and a restraining order. But even after Wanda's estranged husband had finally moved out, and after a restraining order was in place, he came back to terrorize his wife-twice. One time he threatened to kill her. Another time he tried to demolish the pool in the backyard, and Wanda's car. The Baraka parents were understandably worried. Their oldest daughter was living as a victim of perpetual domestic violence, and their youngest daughter, a teacher, a girls' basketball coach, and a role model for scores of inner city youth, was living under the same roof. Shani was warned, several times, to pack up her belongings and get away from that situation. Finally, Shani and Rayshon went, one sweltering August day, to retrieve the remainder of Shani's possessions. Shani's oldest sister was out of town, and it remains unclear, even now, if the estranged husband had already been there at his former home, forcibly, or if he had arrived after Shani and Rayshon. No matter. This much is true: he hated his wife Wanda and he hated Shani for being Wanda's sister, and he hated Shani and Rayshon for being two women in love, for being lesbians. His revolver blew Shani away immediately. Dead. Next, there was an apparent struggle between Rayshon and this man. She was battered and bruised, then blown away as well. Gone. Just like that. Because I have known the Baraka family for years, this double murder was especially difficult to handle. It was the saddest funeral I have ever attended in my life. Two tiny women in two tiny caskets. I howled so hard and long that I doubled over in pain in the church pew and nearly fell to the floor beneath the pew in front of me.

Violence against women and girls knows no race, no color, no class background, no religion. It may be the husband or the fiancé, the grandfather or the father, the boyfriend or the lover, the son or the nephew, the neighbor or the co-worker. I cannot begin to tell you how many women-from preteens to senior citizens and multiple ages in between-have told me of their battering at the hands of a male, usually someone they knew very well, or what is commonly referred to as an intimate partner. Why have these women and girls shared these experiences with me, a man? I feel it is because, through the years, I have been brutally honest, in my writings and speeches and workshops, in admitting that the sort of abusive male they are describing, the type of man they are fleeing, the kind of man they've been getting those restraining orders against-was once me. Between the years 1987 and 1991 I was a very different kind of person, a very different kind of male. During that time frame I assaulted and or threatened four different young women. I was one of those typical American males: hyper-masculine, overly competitive, and drenched in the belief system that I could talk to women any way I felt, treat women any way I felt, with no repercussions whatsoever. As I sought therapy during and especially after that period, I came to realize that I and other males in this country treated women and girls in this dehumanizing way because somewhere along our journey we were told we could. It may have been in our households; it may have been on our block or in our neighborhoods; it may have been the numerous times these actions were reinforced for us in our favorite music, our favorite television programs, or our favorite films.

All these years later I feel, very strongly, that violence against women and girls is not going to end until we men and boys become active participants in the fight against such behavior. I recall those early years of feeling clueless when confronted-by both women and men-about my actions. This past life was brought back to me very recently when I met with a political associate who reminded me that he was, then and now, close friends with the last woman I assaulted. We, this political associate and I, had a very long and emotionally charged conversation about my past, about what I had done to his friend. We both had watery eyes by the time we were finished talking. It hurt me that this woman remains wounded by what I did in 1991, in spite of the fact that she accepted an apology from me around the year 2000. I left that meeting with pangs of guilt, and a deep sadness about the woman with whom I had lived for about a year.

Later that day, a few very close female friends reminded me of the work that some of us men had done, to begin to reconfigure how we define manhood, how some of us have been helping in the fight to end violence against women and girls. And those conversations led me to put on paper The Seven Steps For Ending Violence Against Women and Girls. These are the rules that I have followed for myself, and that I have shared with men and boys throughout America since the early 1990s:

1. Own the fact that you have made a very serious mistake, that you've committed an offense, whatever it is, against a woman or a girl. Denial, passing blame, and not taking full responsibility, is simply not acceptable.
2. Get help as quickly as you can in the form of counseling or therapy for your violent behavior. YOU must be willing to take this very necessary step. If you don't know where to turn for help, I advise visiting the website www.menstoppingviolence.org, an important organization, based in Atlanta, that can give you a starting point and some suggestions. Also visit www.usdoj.gov/ovw/pledge.htm where you can find helpful information on what men and boys can do to get help for themselves. Get your hands on and watch Aishah Shahidah Simmons' critically important documentary film NO! as soon as you are able. You can order it at www.notherapedocumentary.org. NO! is, specifically, about the history of rape and sexual assault in Black America, but that film has made its way around the globe and from that very specific narrative comes some very hard and real truths about male violence against females that is universal, that applies to us all, regardless of our race or culture. Also get a copy of Byron Hurt's Beyond Beats and Rhymes, perhaps the most important documentary film ever made about the relationship between American popular culture and American manhood. Don't just watch these films, watch them with other men, and watch them with an eye toward critical thinking, healing, and growth, even if they make you angry or very comfortable. And although it may be difficult and painful, you must be willing to dig into your past, into the family and environment you've come from, to begin to understand the root causes of your violent behavior. For me that meant acknowledging the fact that, beginning in the home with my young single mother, and continuing through what I encountered on the streets or navigated in the parks and the schoolyards, was the attitude that violence was how every single conflict should be dealt with. More often than not, this violence was tied to a false sense of power, of being in control. Of course the opposite is the reality: violence towards women has everything to do with powerlessness and being completely out of control. Also, we need to be clear that some men simply hate or have a very low regard for women and girls. Some of us, like me, were the victims of physical, emotional, and verbal abuse at the hands of mothers who had been completely dissed by our fathers, so we caught the brunt of our mothers' hurt and anger. Some of us were abandoned by our mothers. Some of us were sexually assaulted by our mothers or other women in our lives as boys. Some of us watched our fathers or other men terrorize our mothers, batter our mothers, abuse our mothers, and we simply grew up thinking that that male-female dynamic was the norm. Whatever the case may be, part of that "getting help" must involve the word forgiveness. Forgiveness of ourselves for our inhuman behavioral patterns and attitudes, and forgiveness of any female who we feel has wronged us at some point in our lives. Yes, my mother did hurt me as a child but as an adult I had to realize I was acting out that hurt with the women I was encountering. I had to forgive my mother, over a period of time, with the help of counseling and a heavy dose of soul-searching to understand who she was, as well as the world that created her. And I had to acknowledge that one woman's actions should not justify a lifetime of backward and destructive reactions to women and girls. And, most importantly, we must have the courage to apologize to any female we have wronged. Ask for her forgiveness, and accept the fact that she may not be open to your apology. That is her right.
3. Learn to listen to the voices of women and girls. And once we learn how to listen, we must truly hear their concerns, their hopes and their fears. Given that America was founded on sexism-on the belief system of male dominance and privilege-as much as it was founded on the belief systems of racism and classism, all of us are raised and socialized to believe that women and girls are unequal to men and boys, that they are nothing more than mothers, lovers, or sexual objects, that it is okay to call them names, to touch them without their permission, to be violent toward them physically, emotionally, spiritually-or all of the above. This mindset, unfortunately, is reinforced in much of our educational curriculum, from preschool right through college, through the popular culture we digest every single day through music, sports, books, films, and the internet, and through our male peers who often do not know any better either-because they had not learned to listen to women's voices either. For me that meant owning the fact that throughout my years of college, for example, I never read more than a book or two by women writers. Or that I never really paid attention to the stories of the women in my family, in my community, to female friends, colleagues, and lovers who, unbeknownst to me, had been the victims of violence at some point in their lives. So when I began to listen to and absorb the voices, the stories, and the ideas of women like Pearl Cleage, Gloria Steinem, bell hooks, Alice Walker, of the housekeeper, of the hair stylist, of the receptionist, of the school crossing guard, of the nurse's aid, and many others, it was nothing short of liberating, to me. Terribly difficult for me as a man, yes, because it was forcing me to rethink everything I once believed. But I really had no other choice but to listen if I was serious about healing. And if I was serious about my own personal growth. It all begins with a very simple question we males should ask each and every woman in our lives: Have you ever been physically abused or battered by a man?
4. To paraphrase Gandhi, make a conscious decision to be the change we need to see. Question where and how you've received your definitions of manhood to this point. This is not easy as a man in a male-dominated society because it means you have to question every single privilege men have vis-à-vis women. It means that you might have to give up something or some things that have historically benefited you because of your gender. And people who are privileged, who are in positions of power, are seldom willing to give up that privilege or power. But we must, because the alternative is to continue to hear stories of women and girls being beaten, raped, or murdered by some male in their environment, be it the college campus, the inner city, the church, or corporate America. And we men and boys need to come to a realization that sexism-the belief that women and girls are inferior to men and boys, that this really is a man's world, and the female is just here to serve our needs regardless of how we treat them-is as destructive to ourselves as it is to women and girls. As I've said in many speeches through the years, even if you are not the kind of man who would ever yell at a woman, curse at a woman, touch a woman in a public or private space without her permission, hit or beat a woman, much less kill a woman-you are just as guilty if you see other men and boys doing these things and you say or do nothing to stop them.
5. Become a consistent and reliable male ally to women and girls. More of us men and boys need to take public stands in opposition to violence against women and girls. That means we cannot be afraid to be the only male speaking out against such an injustice. It also means that no matter what kind of male you are, working-class or middle-class or super-wealthy, no matter what race, no matter what educational background, and so on, that you can begin to use language that supports and affirms the lives and humanity of women and girls. You can actually be friends with females, and not merely view them as sexual partners to be conquered. Stop saying "boys will be boys" when you see male children fighting or being aggressive or acting up. Do not sexually harass women you work with then try to brush it off if a woman challenges you on the harassment. If you can't get over a breakup, get counseling. As a male ally, help women friends leave bad or abusive relationships. Do not criticize economically independent women because this independence helps free them in many cases from staying in abusive situations. Donate money, food, or clothing to battered women's shelters or other women's causes. Do not ever respond to a female friend with "Oh you're just an angry woman." This diminishes the real criticisms women may have about their male partners. American male voices I greatly admire, who also put forth suggestions for what we men and boys can do to be allies to women and girls, include Michael Kimmel, Jackson Katz, Charles Knight, Mark Anthony Neal, Jelani Cobb, Charlie Braxton, and Byron Hurt. Of course standing up for anything carries risks. You may-as I have-find things that you say and do taken out of context, misunderstood or misinterpreted, maligned and attacked, dismissed, or just outright ignored. But you have to do it anyway because you never know how the essay or book you've written, the speech or workshop you've led, or just the one-on-one conversations you've had, might impact on the life of someone who's struggling for help. I will give two examples: A few years back, after giving a lecture at an elite East Coast college, I noticed a young woman milling about as I was signing books and shaking hands. I could see that she wanted to talk with me, but I had no idea the gravity of her situation. Once the room had virtually cleared out, this 17-year-old first-year student proceeded to tell me that her pastor had been having sex with her since the time she was four, and had been physically and emotionally violent toward her on a number of occasions. Suffice to say, I was floored. This young woman was badly in need of help. I quickly alerted school administrators who pledged to assist her, and I followed up to make sure that they did. But what if I had not made a conscious decision to talk about sexism and violence against women and girls, in every single speech I gave-regardless of the topic? This young woman might not have felt comfortable enough to open up to me about such a deeply personal pain. My other example involves a young male to whom I have been a mentor for the past few years. He is incredibly brilliant and talented, but, like me, comes from a dysfunctional home, has had serious anger issues, and, also like me, has had to work through painful feelings of abandonment as a result of his absent father. This, unfortunately, is a perfect recipe for disaster in a relationship with a woman. True to form, this young man was going through turbulent times with a woman he both loved and resented. His relationship with the young woman may have been the first time in his 20-something life he'd ever felt deep affection for another being. But he felt resentment because he could not stomach-despite his declarations otherwise-the fact that this woman had the audacity to challenge him about his anger, his attitude, and his behavior toward her. So she left him, cut him off, and he confessed to me that he wanted to hit her. In his mind, she was dissin' him. I was honestly stunned because I thought I knew this young man fairly well, but here he was, feeling completely powerless while thoughts of committing violence against this woman bombarded his mind and spirit. We had a long conversation, over the course of a few days, and, thank God, he eventually accepted the fact that his relationship with this woman was over. He also began to seek help for his anger, his feelings of abandonment, and all the long-repressed childhood hurts that had nothing to do with this woman, but everything to do with how he had treated her. But what if he did not have somebody to turn to when he needed help? What if he'd become yet another man lurking at his ex's job or place of residence, who saw in his ability to terrorize that woman some twisted form of power?
6. Challenge other males about their physical, emotional, and spiritual violence towards women and girls. Again, this is not a popular thing to do, especially when so many men and boys do not even believe that there is a gender violence problem in America. But challenge we must when we hear about abusive or destructive behavior being committed by our friends or peers. I have to say I really respect the aforementioned political associate who looked me straight in the eyes, 16 long years after I pushed his close female friend and my ex-girlfriend into a bathroom door, and asked me why I did what I did, and, essentially, why he should work with me all these years later? American males don't often have these kinds of difficult but necessary conversations with each other. But his point was that he needed to understand what had happened, what work I had done to prevent that kind of behavior from happening again, and why I had committed such an act in the first place. Just for the record: No, it has not happened since, and no, it never will again. But I respect the fact that, in spite of my being very honest about past behavior, that women and men and girls and boys of diverse backgrounds have felt compelled to ask hard questions, to challenge me after hearing me speak, after reading one of my essays about sexism and redefining American manhood. We must ask and answer some hard questions. This also means that we need to challenge those men-as I was forced to do twice in the past week-who bring up the fact that some males are the victims of domestic violence at the hands of females. While this may be true in a few cases (and I do know some men who have been attacked or beaten by women), there is not even a remote comparison between the number of women who are battered and murdered on a daily, weekly, monthly, or yearly basis in America and the number of men who suffer the same fate at the hands of women. Second, we men need to understand that we cannot just use our maleness to switch the dialogue away from the very real concerns of women to what men are suffering, or what we perceive men to be suffering. That's what step number three in the seven steps to ending violence against women and girls is all about. So many of us American males have such a distorted definition of manhood that we don't even have the basic respect to listen to women's voices when they talk about violence and abuse, without becoming uncomfortable, without becoming defensive, without feeling the need to bring the conversation, the dialogue, to us and our needs and our concerns, as if the needs and concerns of women and girls do not matter.
7. Create a new kind of man, a new kind of boy. Violence against women and girls will never end if we males continue to live according to definitions of self that are rooted in violence, domination, and sexism. I have been saying for the past few years that more American males have got to make a conscious decision to redefine who we are, to look ourselves in the mirror and ask where we got these definitions of manhood and masculinity, to which we cling so tightly. Who do these definitions benefit and whom do they hurt? Who said manhood has to be connected to violence, competition, ego, and the inability to express ourselves? And while we're asking questions, we need to thoroughly question the heroes we worship, too. How can we continue to salute Bill Clinton as a great president yet never ask why he has never taken full ownership for the numerous sexual indiscretions he has committed during his long marriage to Senator Hillary Clinton? How can we in the hip-hop nation continue to blindly idolize Tupac Shakur (whom I interviewed numerous times while working at Vibe, and whom I loved like a brother) but never question how he could celebrate women in songs like "Keep Ya Head Up?" and "Dear Mama," on the one hand, but completely denigrate women in songs like "Wonda Y They Call U Bitch"? What I am saying is that as we examine and struggle to redefine ourselves as men, we also have to make a commitment to questioning the manifestations of sexism all around us. If we fail to do so, if we do not begin to ask males, on a regular basis, why we refer to women and girls with despicable words, why we talk about women and girls as if they are nothing more than playthings, why we think its cool to "slap a woman around," why we don't think the rape, torture, and kidnap of Megan Williams in West Virginia should matter to us as much as the Jena 6 case in Louisiana, then the beginning of the end of violence against women and girls will be a long time coming.

Kevin Powell is a writer, activist, and author or editor of 9 books. A native of Jersey City, NJ, Kevin is a long-time resident of Brooklyn, NY, where he ran for Congress in 2008. He can be reached at kevin@kevinpowell.net.