On swords, violence, and victim culture.
This is a slightly cleaned-up version of something that I wrote earlier tonight on 750words and decided I wanted to share. I'm not sure how controversial it may turn out to be, but it's several 2ps on several vexed subjects. Swords, self-defence, and why I don't like the way I was raised.
*****
"Aim for the head!"
The voice is that of one of the veterans at my swordfighting group, as I line up to practise a simple longsword drill move with a fellow fighter. My opponent and I look at each other, exchange the special glance you only give to someone who is about to attack you with your free consent; the mutual agreement of I trust you, let's go. He swings. I swing.
I can't manage to aim for his head. Something in me makes me aim instead for his blade as it comes in, a three-foot length of cold steel arcing towards me. I block him, but it's awkward, the point of my blade off-line, aimed at the ceiling as I stop his sword clumsily. I shake my head and back up from the move.
We step back, line up again. He swings. I swing. This time, although my eyes flinch closed as I put the cut in, I force myself to do as our trainer told me. Aim for the head.
The crash of our blades colliding is like poetry. I blink and realise that not only did my block protect me perfectly, my sword is exactly where it's supposed to be. I grin at my opponent. It's true - as long as you aim for the other guy's head, it will work. What was so hard about that?
What was hard about that is that "aim for the head!" is advice that practically no woman in our society, at least not if her childhood and adolescence have followed an average path, has been given before in her life. I was raised, like millions of other girls, to regard violence as alien territory. I was given to believe that it was a bad thing to begin with, and when it did occur, it was the province of boys and men. Physical aggression was an instinct I was trained to control, suppress and resist. Don't get into fights. Don't hit bullies, no matter what they do. Don't threaten people. Don't raise your hand to anyone. Don't swing or wield a heavy, sharp, or otherwise potentially dangerous object, even in play. You might hit someone - and we couldn't have that.
The only place where this message got mixed at all was when I was told about assault and rape. My parents, teachers and all the other sources of advice society offers taught me, though without much clarity, that there were people out there who would try and overpower me and hurt me, attack me, maybe even kill me. If this happened to me, then and only then was violence okay. It was okay to kick, knee a guy in the groin, bite, whatever - but my aim must be to get away and run. It was taken as read that any attacker would be stronger than me, that my only chance would be to fight dirty and flee. That it was enough, in a situation like that, to escape. That it was my responsibility to avoid those situations ever arising - don't walk down dark streets, don't wear short skirts, don't get drunk in public, all the traditional advice - but if they did arise, I should expect to be at a disadvantage, and would have to rely on some sort of magical fairy who protected Good Girls to briefly lend me the strength and stamina to fight free and run. That that would be the only choice, and the only chance, I had.
Great. Unfortunately for so many women the world over, the Good Girl Fairy doesn't exist. After years of being told to eschew violence at any cost, you try calling on the killer instincts nature gave you, in the middle of a situation that you've already been led to believe is effectively hopeless for you. Nine times out of ten, it doesn't work. This is why women who are attacked freeze up, why they "go along with it" for fear of their lives or because they think they have no choice. The mental block that's in the way of actually aiming a blow at someone with intent to harm them is, for many women, huge. And even if you can get past that in the heat of the moment, you then run into the problem that if you're an average woman, you probably have no idea how to use your body as a weapon. How do you throw an effective punch? Where's the leverage point that will let you break a grown man's wrist if he doesn't let go of you? Precisely how do you bring your foot down in order to fold an attacker's knee joint backwards? These are things that the Good Girl Fairy will not teach you in the heat of the moment. They are formulae from an alien science, doctrine you have never memorised, and you can't make them up on the fly. You will lose fights not because of some inevitable law of nature, but quite simply because you were never taught how to win one.
And this is why when a trainer I trust told me to try and take a friend's head off with a longsword, even in what was effectively play, my instincts still attempted to prevent me from doing it. And this is why I'm going to keep going back to those swordfighting sessions until I can aim a sword full-tilt at the head of another human being and not have to close my eyes when I do it. And not just because it feels amazing to swing a sword and feel it connect cleanly with another weapon's edge, to live the elegant mathematics of body and blade that teach flesh and blood that they are powerful. But because learning to aim for a friend's head in a controlled and safe environment is slowly stripping away years and years of wrongly-taught conviction that I am weak, that I am vulnerable, that I am a victim waiting to happen. I am not a victim. I refuse to be one ever again.
I don't believe that you can make women safe by teaching them "don't get raped", and I don't even believe that you can make them safe by teaching men "don't rape". I believe that you can make women, that you can make everyone, safe by teaching them what violence is, what it can do, and how to use it responsibly, the same way we teach how to use electricity and fire and sharp objects and motor vehicles. I do not want my safety to depend on sticking within narrow, prescribed behavioural limits that (allegedly) won't "provoke" an attack on me from men whose self-control is having no corresponding demands placed on it. I do not want it to depend on my ability to run away. Nor do I want it to depend on men graciously deigning not to hurt me - because rape and assault are about power, and if my safety hinges on someone choosing not to exert power over me, I am still powerless by definition. No. I want my safety to depend on the fact that if someone does attempt to harm me, I have the knowledge, the will, the aggression - in short, the power - to make them wish they hadn't bothered. Because that way, not only will I be safe on my own terms; but anyone who does attack me will learn something about the limits of their own power, and that trying to abuse that power has immediate and, ideally, painful consequences.
And while I'm sure this suggestion will scandalise some people, I refuse to let their disapproval change my mind on this. Disapproval can do me no harm. Rape, assault, domestic violence - these are the things that can do me harm, and it's these that I want the confidence and knowledge to defend myself against. And that I would love to see every woman - yes, and man, too - in the world have the confidence and knowledge to defend themselves against. I am not "a violent person". I don't want to learn these skills so I can start fights on my own account, or so I can assert dominance over other people. I want to learn them so that I can play-fight with my friends for fun - but also so that if anyone starts a real fight with me, they won't ever again have me at a disadvantage. And while, yes, I'm aware that I can't carry a sword in the street, the sword moves aren't the real lesson here.
The real lesson is that despite being "only" a woman, I am strong enough to defend myself, if I study and practise to find out how. The real lesson is that my body as nature gave it to me is able and willing to be used as a weapon. The real lesson is in getting past that wall in my mind that makes me constitutionally unable to "aim for the head".
Because that wall is what makes me, and a million women like me, a victim waiting to happen.
Aim for the head, my friends. And if, when you try, you find out that you can't do it? Find someone, somewhere, who can teach you how.
*****
Laters,
Rath
*****
"Aim for the head!"
The voice is that of one of the veterans at my swordfighting group, as I line up to practise a simple longsword drill move with a fellow fighter. My opponent and I look at each other, exchange the special glance you only give to someone who is about to attack you with your free consent; the mutual agreement of I trust you, let's go. He swings. I swing.
I can't manage to aim for his head. Something in me makes me aim instead for his blade as it comes in, a three-foot length of cold steel arcing towards me. I block him, but it's awkward, the point of my blade off-line, aimed at the ceiling as I stop his sword clumsily. I shake my head and back up from the move.
We step back, line up again. He swings. I swing. This time, although my eyes flinch closed as I put the cut in, I force myself to do as our trainer told me. Aim for the head.
The crash of our blades colliding is like poetry. I blink and realise that not only did my block protect me perfectly, my sword is exactly where it's supposed to be. I grin at my opponent. It's true - as long as you aim for the other guy's head, it will work. What was so hard about that?
What was hard about that is that "aim for the head!" is advice that practically no woman in our society, at least not if her childhood and adolescence have followed an average path, has been given before in her life. I was raised, like millions of other girls, to regard violence as alien territory. I was given to believe that it was a bad thing to begin with, and when it did occur, it was the province of boys and men. Physical aggression was an instinct I was trained to control, suppress and resist. Don't get into fights. Don't hit bullies, no matter what they do. Don't threaten people. Don't raise your hand to anyone. Don't swing or wield a heavy, sharp, or otherwise potentially dangerous object, even in play. You might hit someone - and we couldn't have that.
The only place where this message got mixed at all was when I was told about assault and rape. My parents, teachers and all the other sources of advice society offers taught me, though without much clarity, that there were people out there who would try and overpower me and hurt me, attack me, maybe even kill me. If this happened to me, then and only then was violence okay. It was okay to kick, knee a guy in the groin, bite, whatever - but my aim must be to get away and run. It was taken as read that any attacker would be stronger than me, that my only chance would be to fight dirty and flee. That it was enough, in a situation like that, to escape. That it was my responsibility to avoid those situations ever arising - don't walk down dark streets, don't wear short skirts, don't get drunk in public, all the traditional advice - but if they did arise, I should expect to be at a disadvantage, and would have to rely on some sort of magical fairy who protected Good Girls to briefly lend me the strength and stamina to fight free and run. That that would be the only choice, and the only chance, I had.
Great. Unfortunately for so many women the world over, the Good Girl Fairy doesn't exist. After years of being told to eschew violence at any cost, you try calling on the killer instincts nature gave you, in the middle of a situation that you've already been led to believe is effectively hopeless for you. Nine times out of ten, it doesn't work. This is why women who are attacked freeze up, why they "go along with it" for fear of their lives or because they think they have no choice. The mental block that's in the way of actually aiming a blow at someone with intent to harm them is, for many women, huge. And even if you can get past that in the heat of the moment, you then run into the problem that if you're an average woman, you probably have no idea how to use your body as a weapon. How do you throw an effective punch? Where's the leverage point that will let you break a grown man's wrist if he doesn't let go of you? Precisely how do you bring your foot down in order to fold an attacker's knee joint backwards? These are things that the Good Girl Fairy will not teach you in the heat of the moment. They are formulae from an alien science, doctrine you have never memorised, and you can't make them up on the fly. You will lose fights not because of some inevitable law of nature, but quite simply because you were never taught how to win one.
And this is why when a trainer I trust told me to try and take a friend's head off with a longsword, even in what was effectively play, my instincts still attempted to prevent me from doing it. And this is why I'm going to keep going back to those swordfighting sessions until I can aim a sword full-tilt at the head of another human being and not have to close my eyes when I do it. And not just because it feels amazing to swing a sword and feel it connect cleanly with another weapon's edge, to live the elegant mathematics of body and blade that teach flesh and blood that they are powerful. But because learning to aim for a friend's head in a controlled and safe environment is slowly stripping away years and years of wrongly-taught conviction that I am weak, that I am vulnerable, that I am a victim waiting to happen. I am not a victim. I refuse to be one ever again.
I don't believe that you can make women safe by teaching them "don't get raped", and I don't even believe that you can make them safe by teaching men "don't rape". I believe that you can make women, that you can make everyone, safe by teaching them what violence is, what it can do, and how to use it responsibly, the same way we teach how to use electricity and fire and sharp objects and motor vehicles. I do not want my safety to depend on sticking within narrow, prescribed behavioural limits that (allegedly) won't "provoke" an attack on me from men whose self-control is having no corresponding demands placed on it. I do not want it to depend on my ability to run away. Nor do I want it to depend on men graciously deigning not to hurt me - because rape and assault are about power, and if my safety hinges on someone choosing not to exert power over me, I am still powerless by definition. No. I want my safety to depend on the fact that if someone does attempt to harm me, I have the knowledge, the will, the aggression - in short, the power - to make them wish they hadn't bothered. Because that way, not only will I be safe on my own terms; but anyone who does attack me will learn something about the limits of their own power, and that trying to abuse that power has immediate and, ideally, painful consequences.
And while I'm sure this suggestion will scandalise some people, I refuse to let their disapproval change my mind on this. Disapproval can do me no harm. Rape, assault, domestic violence - these are the things that can do me harm, and it's these that I want the confidence and knowledge to defend myself against. And that I would love to see every woman - yes, and man, too - in the world have the confidence and knowledge to defend themselves against. I am not "a violent person". I don't want to learn these skills so I can start fights on my own account, or so I can assert dominance over other people. I want to learn them so that I can play-fight with my friends for fun - but also so that if anyone starts a real fight with me, they won't ever again have me at a disadvantage. And while, yes, I'm aware that I can't carry a sword in the street, the sword moves aren't the real lesson here.
The real lesson is that despite being "only" a woman, I am strong enough to defend myself, if I study and practise to find out how. The real lesson is that my body as nature gave it to me is able and willing to be used as a weapon. The real lesson is in getting past that wall in my mind that makes me constitutionally unable to "aim for the head".
Because that wall is what makes me, and a million women like me, a victim waiting to happen.
Aim for the head, my friends. And if, when you try, you find out that you can't do it? Find someone, somewhere, who can teach you how.
*****
Laters,
Rath