(scroll down for English translation)

El otro día, mi pareja y yo estábamos mirando una comedia en la cual uno de los personajes principales iba a ser la dama de honor en la boda de su ex pareja. La women-slapcomedia continúa a través de una series de incidentes cómicos cuando de repente la dama de honor abofetea a su ex (y futura pareja al final de la película). Yo me encontré a carcajadas por la bofeteada e incluso pensando que la otra persona se lo merecía por haber sido tan desconsiderada. Pero segundos después comencé a cuestionar mi reacción. Ignorando mi propio consejo de que tenía que relajarme porque es solo una película, me puse a analizar la situación. ¡De todas maneras cuestionar mi posición acerca de quien se merece una bofetada me parece razonable! Me molestó que esa bofetada sea tan casual—casi normal. Nadie se disculpó. ¡Solamente sucedió! El hecho de que se trataba de una pareja del mismo género no cambio la sensación incómoda por la agresión. No es la primera vez que veo una  bofetada ocasional, al contrario estuvo presente en todas las telenovelas que seguí de adolescente y adulta. Incluso he visto bofetadas en novelas americanas como All My Children (Todos mis Niños), General Hospital (Hospital General) y también Modern Family (Familia Moderna).

Me puse a pensar de cuando hablamos de abuso en las relaciones, siempre hablamos de la presencia del poder y control como patrón de conducta. Algunos de nosotros creemos que un solo incidente de abuso no es suficiente para calificar a la relación de abusiva. ¿Sería entonces apropiado que nos riéramos si una persona recibe una bofetada sólo una vez? ¿O estas bofetadas ocasionales que vemos en las telenovelas y películas nos llevan a aceptar la violencia que ocurre en las relaciones reales? Personalmente, yo creo que las bofetadas ocasionales que vemos en la televisión promueven violencia y en algunos contextos contribuyen a varios sistemas de opresión. Ahora, ¿deberíamos de parar de mirar las películas y telenovelas que tanto nos gustan porque esto ocurre? Independientemente de la respuesta, me gustaría alentar a las personas a reconocer la bofetada ocasional la próxima vez que la vean. Incluso tal vez puedan hablar con alguien acerca de ello. Quizás pueden decir, “que buena película o episodio pero ¿qué pensaste de la bofetada?

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My sweetie and I were watching a romantic comedy the other day in which one of the main characters was asked to be the Maid of Honor for her ex—a woman she is still in love with. The plot continues through a series of comic events that lead to the Maid of Honor suddenly slapping the bride (her ex- and future lover)! I caught myself laughing and even thinking that the person at the end of that slap deserved it for all the pain she had caused. But then I started to question my reaction. I decided to ignore my own advice that I should relax because it’s just a movie. After all, questioning one’s judgment of who deserves to be slapped seems to me to be a reasonable standard to have. It bothered me that the slap seemed so casual—almost acceptable. It just happened. No one even apologized! The fact that it was a same-gendered couple did not make it any less troublesome to me. I am not unfamiliar with the occasional movie slap—they are ubiquitous to the telenovelas I watched growing up. I have also seen them on All My Children, General Hospital, and even Modern Family.

It got me thinking, when we discuss abuse in relationships we always talk about power and control as a pattern of behavior. Some of us believe that a one-time incident is not enough to call a relationship abusive. So, is it ok to laugh if someone gets slapped just one time? Or do these occasional slaps in the movies and telenovelas lead us to accept real-life violence in relationships? Personally, I believe that the occasional slap does promote violence and oppression. Now, should we stop watching the movies and soap operas that we enjoy so much because of it? Either way, I would encourage you to acknowledge a slap the next time you see it. Maybe talk to someone about it. Say, “What a great movie/episode, but what do you think about that slap?”

My introduction to the domestic violence movement was as a volunteer in a battered women’s shelter. It was founded in 1976, just a few years after the first battered women’s shelter in the U.S. It was a product of its time. We were explicit about our feminist politics. We saw our work as part of a larger agenda for justice that took on patriarchal power, institutional racism and state violence, and all forms of oppression and domination.

The shelter itself was a hundred-year-old house, with every available nook and cranny made into space for another bunk bed or more towels or canned food. We were scrappy and resourceful. We didn’t turn anyone away.

On the other hand, it didn’t occur to me back then to think about how our physical space set up survivors to have very limited control over their lives day in and day out. Multiple stressed-out families sharing bedrooms, too few bathrooms, and one small kitchen inevitably led to conflict, and then rules intended to manage the conflict, and then conflict over the rules. Not exactly a recipe for liberation.

Advocates in Washington State have been thinking about how to change shelter for the better. The result? Building Dignity: Design Strategies for Domestic Violence Shelter, a web-based tool-kit for making shelter spaces that help support our mission.

For me, watching this work unfold was a kind of revelation. The kind where you hear an idea for the first time and it instantly seems completely obvious. Shelter is a life-saving refuge. But our hope and vision has always been that shelter is more than a place for women to flee from danger. It is also a launching pad into a life after abuse. A place to restore dignity, reclaim choices, and rebuild relationships that have been eroded by violence. Building Dignity is chock full of creative and practical ideas to make this happen.

Earlier this year, our executive director, Nan Stoops, was invited to be the keynote speaker at a conference organized by the Hawai’i State Coalition Against Domestic Violence. Her assignment: outline a five-point plan for ending violence against women and girls.

Here is the next installment of her speech. (Or jump to: Part 1Part 2Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6)

Point #1: Bring the past forward

Our work to end violence against women is rooted in the women’s liberation movement of the 1960’s, in particular the efforts to secure reproductive rights. Early organizing strategies were learned from the Civil Rights, Labor, and Anti-War movements, where work was launched by personal testimony about violence, oppression, and dehumanization. Many of us remember the 60’s and 70’s as an angry, energetic, and passionate time.

I think we are in another period of unrest. While the big issues have evolved into the 21st century, they appear to be very familiar. And we have a great opportunity to bring what we’ve learned into the present with a more nimble and visionary approach to our social justice work.

We must remain vigilant about reproductive rights. There are three times as many anti-choice bills in state legislation this year as there were in 2010. Anti-choice campaigns are controlling and hateful, and shameless in their strategic manipulation of race, class, and immigration.

The wars are taking a tremendous toll on our communities. Not only are we faced with the devastating effects of war on families, we are also suffering from the economic and political fallout caused by years of troop buildup and declining morale. Women around the world continue to be both the victims and tools of men’s war against each other. I hope we are working to support the families of returning troops, and I also hope we are joining in global organizing against militarization and U.S. domination.

Civil rights for immigrants are being dismantled. The war on poverty has been completely lost. And technology has added elements of speed, invisibility, and recklessness to the exploitation and abuse of women and children.

Over the past 30 years, we have developed an increasingly complicated rhetoric about our work to end violence against women. It’s so complicated that sometimes I’m not really sure what I’m talking about. So I want to suggest that we return to plain talk. Plain talk about what happens to women. Plain talk about what we are doing and what we want in our future. We need not care about being impressive. We need only care about being heard.

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