They should cry

When people do wrong things, they should feel remorse. Remorse, however does not necessarily entitle one to sympathy or public defense. This is particularly true in light of the highly anticipated Steubenville rape trial verdict that was released last week. Long story short: Two intoxicated football players were convicted of raping a girl after they spread evidence of their crime, along with their boastful laughter and smug pride, all over social media sites and through explicit text messages. They shed tears after the verdict was announced, and as a result, media commentators and tweeting 20-somethings expressed pity and understanding.

One news anchor from CNN reported: “Incredibly difficult, even for an outsider like me, to watch what happened as these two young men that had such promising futures, star football players, very good students, literally watched as they believe their life fell apart.” Two tweets I saw read: “I honestly feel sorry for the boys in that Steubenville trial. That whore was asking for it,” and “The Steubenville story is all too familiar. Be responsible for your actions ladies before your drunken decisions ruin innocent lives.”

My first reaction: “WTF?!”

I hate to break it to you, but the ability to play football or maintain a strong GPA does not justify rape. Believe it or not, when you commit such a violent and inhumane crime (and then brag about it), your life may actually fall apart. Rather than learning that raping people is wrong, media outlets and public idiocy just taught us that posting evidence of rape on social media sites is wrong. We have discovered that it is our responsibility to not drink so as to not ruin a rapist’s innocent life, and we have seen that surviving a horrendous act merits death threats from self-righteous fools. We have heard commentators ponder the lasting effects on such good boys with such “promising futures.” But what about the traumatic lasting effects on this young girl, the ACTUAL victim in this trial?

It all comes back to our current crisis of masculinity, a tension that arises because of how difficult (or impossible) it is to be masculine according to society’s standards. When “strong” men show any signs of vulnerability, or when they cry, we react as if the world has shifted on its axis! We rush to defend and excuse them, patting them on the back while simultaneously slapping them on the back to grow a pair. They have been raised and taught to act by opposing the feminine and moving away from anything considered “womanly.” The rigidity and constricting nature of our societal pressures damage all male identities that don’t conform to it. Jackson Katz, an author and presenter of anti-sexism and activism, explains how men often use violence to reinstitute their masculinity. The fact that out of the 62 mass shootings since 1982, 61 were carried out by men, is not lost on me.

Additionally, why are we so quick to defend our idolized male athletes? How we treat our Duke male basketball players is case and point. Don’t get me wrong; I fervently cheer for our team and possibly get short of breath when they walk by, but I can openly admit how ridiculous it is. In the small friendly town of Steubenville, the high school football team is also a source of pride for the community—it has won nine state championships. But being a masculine male who excels at sports does not entitle a man to public support, nor does it mean that he can do no wrong. They are not perfect, and once they make conscious criminal decisions, we still tend to find every reason to place blame elsewhere and defend our good boys. The crisis of masculinity informs our attitude toward male athletes.

Women and girls, on the other hand, have to defend their emotions for some reason (read: patriarchy). Remember the song “Big Girls Don’t Cry” by Fergie? I always hated that song, not because women and girls do cry, but because they are expected to and it comes as no surprise to society. Women tend to be seen as broken and vulnerable, and so suddenly our potential to empathize and recognize legitimate pain and suffering reaches an all-new low.

These reactions are not indicative of just a crisis of masculinity, but also a crisis of our society. Those boys are 100 percent responsible for their actions, but an even more difficult pill to swallow is this: We created those boys. We are all a part of a system that has allowed this crisis of masculinity to flourish. Our society has created circumstances that allow boys and men to think that complete intoxication means unwavering access to female bodies. We do this through popular media, explicit gender roles, ignorant politicians, policies that restrict access to resources for women, our persistent belief that rape is a joke or excuse and our never-ending passive participation in rape culture.