COLUMN: "Confessions of a Sometime Man-Hater"

From Margo Shea's "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised," Fall '92 Rebecca West, 1913 · Sometimes the high-pitched screams of experience drown out the even-toned murmurs of reason. There is a part of me that celebrates the vacant Theta Xi fraternity house, that returns the stares of gaping windows with grins born in gloating satisfaction. It's like when your next door neighbor turns off her stereo after blaring the Chile Peppers for six straight hours. You're too tired too be ecstatic. But I, and lots of other women I know, are glad the house is empty. But there is great relief in the knowledge that no more catcalls will be launched from their porch, and that I won't feel that gnawing, unarticulated fear - born of experience - on my way to Van Pelt library or class or to meet a friend. At first, I wasn't entirely comfortable with my satisfaction, which comes at the expense of Theta Xi's house, the central unifying space the brothers' shared. People who like to consider themselves reasonable, rational egalitarians feel uncomfortable passing judgment on a group, a house, a community. I myself have tried to avoid blanket statements and generalizations. Sometimes, though, we catch ourselves...slipping. "I hate men." Reason tells us that hating men is the most ludicrous concept in the world. Your dad is a man, your brother, your swimming coach, your best friend. Do you hate them? No. So what's your point? Things happen - ordinary, mundane things. Your male friends tell you that feminists are just bitter, ugly women who can't get a date. Or the only reason you want to change things in the world is because you're unreasonable and naive - "the touchy feely thing". Or the only reason you're mad at them for leaving the seat up again is because you're premenstrual. Other things happen - violating, threatening things. And these things happen to women at the hands of men. And they happen at Penn. And they happened at Theta Xi. And try as I might, I cannot forget. And I am not sure I should forgive. It was a Friday night two years ago, and we wanted to go dancing. We'd heard Theta Xi had good music, so three friends and I decided to join the mobs of people out to find fun, or at least distraction, behind the doors of the Locust Walk fraternities. The party was fine. It was easy for me to get lost in the music, in the energy, the rhythm, the beat. But as the clock moved closer to 2:00 am, I could feel a new tension in the crowd, a stir I didn't understand. When someone mentioned, giggling, that the brothers' stripped naked at the striking of the 2:00 hour, I said, "Well, I'll just get out of the way." I did not get immediately incensed. I did not storm out of the fraternity house in righteous rage. I left the room. I just had no desire to watch. Ten minutes later, I reentered the room. I watched as a naked man maneuvered my friend Mimi towards the wall, his body pressed tightly against hers. Mimi, an exchange student from Britain, was less sober than I was, and she seemed stuck. "Why is she with that man?" I screamed. "Well, we weren't sure she wanted us to intervene?" "Would you want to be in that position?" And I walked over, said,"Pig! Go find somebody else to attack." I hardly heard him, as he called me a bitch. I took Mimi to a corner of the room, to see if she was OK. All she said was, "Thank you. I don't know what I would have done." "We weren't sure she wanted us to intervene..."? Not all men at Theta Xi attack women. Maybe they don't all strip down at the strike of two. But you know what they say about one bad apple? It doesn't help to hear, according a recent poll of college men, that 55 percent of them would rape a woman if they were sure they could get away with it. Yeah. That's about one out of two. It's easy to keep silent, to pretend things don't affect you. Its like not wearing clothes in the winter because you wish it was summer?and then you wonder why your ass keeps getting frostbitten. But, this stuff happens to so many women, so many nights, for so many years. Catcalls come, not from construction workers, but from fellow classmates. Men at Smoke's think its OK to fondle women's breasts. And the women hesitate, unsure if it was OK for men to do that. My one evening at Theta Xi does not come up in conversation. I do not automatically equate male with rapist. Not even male with insensitive, or disrespectful. But I am happy the house lies empty, full of potential. There's been a lot of talk these days, not only of diversifying Locust Walk, but of working to create a more communal campus atmosphere at Penn. That inclusive atmosphere won't be a case of spontaneous combustion. There's some making up to, folks! Voila! A womens' living and learning program in place of Theta Xi, and we are a more pluralistic, respectful campus? It will be more complicated than that. But we have to start somewhere. Hint! Hint! No, I don't spend all my days worrying about how I am a victim of men. I have better things to do. You deal with the world you got, because whining doesn't make it better. But sometimes, you get tired. And sometimes you get frustrated. And sometimes, you get angry. So, the high-pitched screamer in me says, "See Ya, Theta Xi!" The even-toned voice within says that it's OK to get angry, to feel afraid. It's OK to talk about it, to let people know about things that happen on our campus which affect our lives, our perceptions of others, our feeling about Penn. You have to try to change things, to understand other points of view, to respect peoples' rights and priorities even if you don't share them. So even if you always had a blast at Theta Xi, if you never have a problem with men, (perhaps you are one, and if you are, Congratulations for getting all the way to the end of this column - maybe there's hope for you yet!), maybe it's summertime for you, now. But, your winter is coming, eventually, and maybe a little understanding on your part will pay off when it comes time for us to deal with the problems which affect your life. Zora Neale Hurston once said, "Grab the broom of anger and drive off the beast of fear!" So, if you gotta say, "I hate men", say it. Then, put the broom back in the closet and keep on going. Because,maybe we've come a long way, baby, but there's still a long, long way to go. Margo Shea is a senior Urban Studies major from Meriden, Connecticut. "The Revolution Will Not Be Televised" appears alternate Thursdays.