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Does The American Sociological Association Care About Survivors Of Sexual Violence?

You have my partner to thank for the above title — the product of a compromise, softening what would have been “The American Sociological Association Doesn’t Care About Survivors Of Sexual Violence” (channeling my pre-MAGA Kanye West on former President George W. Bush’s racism). Though I desperately need to prioritize recovering from a busy, sleep-deprived five days of conferencing, while also finishing up my tenure dossier, annual report, and course prep all in a couple of weeks, I find myself writing another blog post about sexual violence in sociology.

For the first time, I’ve left an ASA annual meeting feeling angry, disappointed, and defeated. Rather than my usual practice of journaling about how great the conference was, and new heights I reached in my career and journey to self-definition as a scholar-activist, I ended up launching into a Twitterstorm about whites’ defensiveness in the face of being called out (or “called in”) for being offensive toward people of color. (I recommended, instead, that whites view this as a courageous act of patience and kindness to hold you accountable, even seeing it as a gift from a person of color who could otherwise dismiss you as hopefully racist. I don’t want to get into specifics here, but suffice it to say the ASA 2018 annual meeting’s theme of Feeling Race was ironically absent from many white conference attendees’ self-reflection during the conference.)

It is the first time I’ve left the conference seriously considering letting my ASA membership lapse and not attending next year’s conference. But, I don’t want to follow the pattern of radical, marginalized sociologists who swear off ASA because it is unwelcoming and conservative, instead attending Association of Black Sociologists, Sociologists for Women in Society, Society for the Study of Social Problems, Humanist Sociology, and/or National Women’s Studies Association conferences. While I fully understand that decision, I don’t want to give ASA the pleasure of my silence and invisibility. You can’t get rid of me that easily.

One ASA staff member asked me not to villainize the organization, which is actually staffed by “allies.” (The quotation marks here reference a direct quote, not me doubting those claims, per se.) My partner asked me to ensure that this blog post be productive — not merely another condemnation of ASA. So, to honor these requests, I want to present an investigation of the evidence — does ASA care about survivors of sexual violence, or not? — rather than jumping to any conclusions (i.e., that it doesn’t).

ASA Cares About Survivors Of Sexual Violence — The Evidence

To offer historical context, ASA meetings are notorious for instances of sexual violence. Two years ago, I found myself gifted with the trust of two survivors who disclosed to me that they had been harassed or raped during prior ASA meetings. The cis male privilege that is perpetually bestowed upon me, despite my queer sexual and gender identities, had long shielded me from recognizing that sexual violence could occur even in sociology contexts. (Just last week, I finally came to terms with the sexual harassment I endured and witnessed during graduate school.) Once I knew these women’s horrific stories, I felt an obligation to call ASA’s and the discipline’s attention to what may be an epidemic, or at least the problem of victims’ fear of reporting. (At the time, ASA’s policy was to notify sociologists accused of sexual violence of the identity of their accuser[s].) In doing so, a dozen other survivors disclosed their own experiences with sexual violence to me, ranging from being choked in the middle of a crowded conference room, to groping, to invitations to hotel rooms, etc.

In the two years since, ASA created an anti-harassment working group to improve the organization’s anti-harassment policy, host workshops on sexual violence at ASA, and provide further recommendations to ASA to better address the issue and support victims. Six scholars with expertise in sexual violence were tapped to generously volunteer their time to help ASA do this work more effectively. A few members of the anti-harassment working group released essays through the organizations Footnotes newsletter:

Every conference attendee was asked to read the new anti-harassment policy and check a box that indicated they did so and agreed to follow these guidelines during the meeting. The working group created a 2-page document that explains the new policy and what to expect if one reports sexual violence, and offers resources to support survivors during the meeting in Philly and after when they return to their own campus. And, the working group hosted two workshops: 1) Bystander Intervention for Combating Sexual Misconduct in Sociology: Everyone Can Be Part of the Solution (which was cosponsored by Sociologists for Women in Society); and 2) Sexual Harassment in Professional Associations.

In addition to receiving training in handling reports of sexual violence ahead of the conference, ASA staff also passed out copies of the aforementioned 2-page document, as well as copies of Sherry Marts’s (of S*Marts Consulting, LLC) “No Means No: How to Respond to Harassment” guide. (Also see this site and this training.) I also heard several times that “sexual harassment is all ASA has been working on lately,” or “most of ASA staff members’ time has been going to this issue.” And, two ASA staff members kindly attended the Sociologists Against Sexual Violence meeting, held late at night on the Saturday of the conference.

ASA, I will give credit where credit is due. You have stepped up your game. But, it’s not enough, especially in light of other concerning actions and messages I received or witnessed.

ASA Could Care Less About Survivors Of Sexual Violence — The Evidence

I can only imagine the beast of an undertaking it is to plan and host a conference attended by 5,000+ people in a major city. I never saw a staff member sit or stand in one place for longer than an hour before running off somewhere else. To ASA’s credit, it must be incredibly difficult to also be forced to deal with the big flaming turd that was left on their doorstep just days before the meeting: several accusations of harassment were made against gender scholar Michael Kimmel in light of his selection to win the 2018 Jessie Bernard award for enlarging the horizons of the sociological study of women. And, to their credit, I fully recognize that they (as well as the anti-harassment working group and the Jessie Bernard award committee) were left to clean up a mess made by Kimmel’s own institution. With that in mind, I think it is still fair to call out ASA’s failures, at least in hopes to see a much better approach to addressing sexual violence in the future.

Weaknesses Of ASA’s New Policy And Other Documentation

I still have little hope that the anti-harassment policy will do anything to curb the epidemic of sexual violence. The new policy is a slight improvement from the previous protocol for reporting sexual violence, which seemed to automatically reveal the identity of accusers to the accused; the new policy vaguely promises that “Information will be kept confidential to the extent possible.” It seems anonymity is still not offered. Therefore, only a few brave (or naive?) victims will bother reporting. And, it is still too early to tell how many reported cases result in sanctions for the perpetrators and/or justice for the survivors. Many in the discipline are well-versed in the research that suggests that: 1) few victims report sexual violence, 2) even fewer reports are taken seriously, 3) even fewer result in sanctions for the perpetrators, 4) the reporting process serves as a secondary form of trauma, 5) retaliations against accusers are very common. ASA’s reporting system seems to mirror other systems that we already know don’t work.

ASA’s efforts to educate potential and actual victims of sexual violence about how to avoid sexual violence falls into the old trap of placing the burden on victims to end sexual violence. Though the new anti-harassment policy explicitly identifies “unacceptable behaviors,” I do not see an attendant effort to educate potential or actual perpetrators to not rape, assault, or harass. I am worried that ASA is a bit naive in thinking having to read (or, more realistically, skip over) the new policy and checking a box will actually stop sexual predators from harming others. Indeed, I’m sure every perpetrator is aware that sexual assault and rape are illegal and punishable crimes. I am worried the organization fails to acknowledge power dynamics that facilitate sexual violence. For example, the S*Marts Consulting “No Means No” guide seems woefully ignorant of the fact that telling a more senior colleague “don’t talk to me” or “move away from me” won’t be as simple in the face of potential professional consequences or the real threat of intensified harassment or even physical violence. This guide seems to assume embarrassment will be enough to stop a predator in their tracks, or that others will do their job as bystanders to intervene.

Repeated Instances Of Ignoring What Survivors And Allies Want

In mid-July, I invited two ASA staff members to attend Saturday’s Sociologists Against Sexual Violence meeting in large part to be present in case attendees wished to report sexual violence they witnessed or experienced and/or became upset during the conversation. They accepted the invite and offered to provide copies of the aforementioned anti-harassment 2-page document and the “No Means No” guide. The email read: “Just let me know and I’ll make copies according to your preferences.” I declined both, expressing concern that these documents placed all of the burden on potential or actual victims to stop sexual violence and, worse, could be used to blame victims for not taking these actions. So, I was surprised to see that stacks of both documents were held out to me at the beginning of our meeting. “Well, they were already printed,” one staff member said to me, continuing to stare expectantly at me in hopes that my desire to be polite would override my desire to forgo engaging in victim-blaming. I caved, noting that I would hand them out with the caveat that these documents are as problematic as they are helpful. I feared the already tense relationship with ASA would become even worse. Essentially, ASA ignored my “preferences” and put me in a position to be an asshole or to override my convictions.

As the two ASA staff members left the Sociologists Against Sexual Violence meeting, I shouted to their backs that the doors to the Pennsylvania Convention Center were locked keeping some late-arriving attendees out.  “Well, they shouldn’t be locked until 11,” was their response. And, they continued walking off to their next engagement. What am I supposed to do with what should be when it wasn’t the case in reality? The next night, during the Sociologists for Trans Justice meeting, the same thing happened. Apparently this was not ASA’s problem — that conference attendees were locked out of the building during officially scheduled meetings.

The next day, a friend texted me about a concerning thread on the notoriously misogynistic, white supremacist, cis- and heterosexist Sociology Job Market Rumors wiki (that has since been deleted):

Mind you, these anonymous, cowardly bigots-as-colleagues have been trashing me and other scholar-activists for years (though the “Grollbaby” reference to me is new). So, this is nothing new nor is it even upsetting anymore. But, what concerns me is that someone from this cesspool of a site attended the Sociologists Against Sexual Violence meeting with the sole purpose of mocking us on the wiki. It violates our sense of trust and privacy, and went against our explicit instruction that nothing of the meeting be discussed online.

I emailed the ASA staff members who attended the meeting. I received the following response:

I am truly sorry to hear this.  It saddens me to learn of this violation of trust. Unfortunately, thought, there really isn’t anything ASA can do.  This is one of the reasons I’m not a big fan of social media.  These days we always have to be prepared for the possibility of something like this everywhere we go.

Maybe they were tired or overwhelmed or truly are pessimistic about their role in fighting sexual violence in sociology. However, I find this defeatist attitude irresponsible on their part. These two staff members sat in the meeting, faced directly with an ASA member who, through tears, said they expected much more from ASA after years of paying dues, giving up time and labor, mentoring students, etc. – what does the organization owe it its members? While I do not expect an immediate solution, I expect ASA to at least take some time to search for potential means to prevent this from occurring in the future, to signal that this behavior is abhorrent. Perhaps attending a meeting of survivors and their allies with the purpose of intimidating them online could constitute a form of harassment and, as such, should be added to the new anti-harassment policy. I cannot help but wonder whether ASA would do more if a white supremacist sociologist did something similar against race scholars of color.

I cannot help but read this is “why I’m not a fan of social media” as a feeble attempt to deflect responsibility. And, the last sentence — telling me to simply be prepared for this everywhere we go — at best reads as resignation and, at worst, reads as alluding that I should have known to expect this given the work I do.

Allusions That There Is A Right Way To Fight Sexual Violence

In light of accusations that Michael Kimmel perpetrated sexual harassment, ASA has attempted to police how survivors and witnesses come forward. Nancy Kidd, executive director of ASA, is quoted saying:

Should a complaint be filed and investigated, through us or other investigative bodies, that leads to a finding of misconduct, ASA will take appropriate action.

What we can take from this is that the anonymous @exposeprof does not warrant ASA concern. Dr. Bee Coston’s brave essay on Medium, accusing Kimmel of harassment, anti-LGBTQ bigotry, sexist discrimination, and stealing students’ work, is not of concern to ASA. Instead, ASA will take seriously reports from those who are brave/naive enough to subject themselves to a confidential-to-a-point reporting system — and, it seems, only those reports ASA deems worthy of investigation.

Through several brief interactions with ASA staff and some members of the anti-harassment working group, it became clear to me that my approach to speaking up about sexual violence in the discipline was deemed radical, perhaps radical enough to prove disruptive. Ahead of the meeting, I received a very suspicious-sounding email about the the call for conference attendees to wear white to raise awareness about sexual violence — was this to target specific members accused of sexual violence?  When I responded that we were not interested in devoting attention to any one person accused of sexual violence (when there are so many besides Michael S. Kimmel — Robert Reece, Matthew Hughey, Martin S. Weinberg, John DeLameter, Stephen M. Cohen), and asked whether they’d be willing to take part, I was told “we’ll have to see…” That was the last time we’d communicate about it.

As I noted in my opening here, one ASA staff member privately asked me not to forget that ASA is taking sexual violence seriously, and that I should recognize them as allies rather than enemies. At the time, I saw the genuine pleading behind this exchange. But, subsequently, I began revisiting the conversation as a potential threat — were they saying “don’t make an enemy out of us”?  Or, were they alluding that I am a villain here, giving ASA too little credit for what it has done so far?

A couple of members of the working group praised me for my radical approach.  But, I had to ask — what about my approach is so radical?  As I did the math — #MeTooPhD and Sociologists Against Sexual Violence buttons + a panel on addressing sexual violence + a meeting with survivors and their allies + wearing white to stand with survivors — I wasn’t able to compute what constituted radical activism. I trust that these individuals were being kind, even appreciative, but their compliments add to the sea of others’ opinions about my activism that I have been wading through for a couple of weeks.  Many fellow conference-goers stopped me to thank me and commend my bravery.  Yet, some leveled veiled criticisms that I was ignoring how Kimmel’s graduate students would be affected (what about the children!  what happens if we prevent an accused rapist-thief-bigot-fraud from working with the children!), or not-so-veiled accusations that I was leading mob violence.  (Wait — buttons, white clothes, and meetings that were a part of the official ASA program are “mob rule”?  Isn’t the mob all of the colleagues and students who protect people like Kimmel despite decades of harassing people?) I am once again frustrated by the extremely low bar for what constitutes activism in sociology.

At the opening of the second of two ASA’s anti-harassment group’s workshops on sexual violence, their previous workshop was described as a success while my #MeTooPhD panel was described as “interesting.” Sure, that could be a genuine read, but it was was much more successful than their workshop, with about 20 people having to sit on the floor or stand because it was so well-attended, and the panel featured not just one perspective on sexual violence but seven. Humbly, I take issue with the mere, potentially passive aggressive description of “interesting.”

Throwing Survivors Under The Bus That ASA Allowed Kimmel To Drive

Perhaps the most insulting to survivors of sexual violence is the handling of the Michael S. Kimmel debacle. Again, I give ASA a pass to the extent that accusations against Kimmel that were finally taken seriously emerged just days before the conference started. (Although I have heard ASA knew much earlier, and there are 2-3 Title IX investigations against Kimmel at SUNY already.) However, what the organization did in light of those accusations was far worse than simply carrying on with the conference as planned.

Ten days before the conference, a Chronicle of Higher Education article was published about new allegations of sexual harassment against Kimmel. In that article, a public statement issued by Kimmel, in which he deferred receiving the Jessie Bernard award by six months, was quoted. The article also notes that ASA agreed to the six-month deadline that Kimmel set for his accusers to formally report the sexual violence he committed to ASA. Interestingly, as Dr. Wendy Simonds noted on Twitter, ASA’s Committee on Professional Ethics (COPE) sets an 18-month time limit for reporting sexual violence; Dr. Simonds also aptly points out a failure of the committee’s guidelines to consider the risks inherent in coming forward against one’s perpetrator (especially without the protection of anonymity) and the power dynamics that prevent victims from doing so.

So, news broke that Kimmel would not attend the conference.  And, instead of receiving the Jessie Bernard career award, his public statement would be read during the ASA award ceremony.  What occurred, however, was a huge slap in the face to survivors at the ASA meeting.  First, as Dr. Simonds tweeted, the program for the formal awards ceremony still announced Kimmel as the award winner.

Sure, so, 10 days wasn’t a lot of time to right this wrong.  But, I firmly believe that the labor and costs required to fix this were well worth the effort to not still symbolically  give Kimmel the damn award. As with other program corrections, small slips correcting the honor could have been printed and included. Or, better yet, a black marker or stickers could have been used to cross out his name and image. (A non-binary individual can dream… just write “RAPIST” across his image.) I can’t imagine how triggering this could have been for his victims.

Oh — but, maybe someone verbally noted the allegations made against him, and that it remains up in the air whether he should be honored for his scholarly efforts to support women?  Thanks again to Dr. Simonds for tweeting video of the announcement:

Michael Kimmel has been selected as this year’s recipient Jessie Bernard award. He is unable to join us today. He asked us to read the following statement on his behalf. ‘I thank the committee and I have decided to defer accepting the award’.

Wait… wait!  “He was unable to join us today”? Did he call ASA and say, “sorry, can’t make it — turns out I’m a serial predator, bigot, and a fraud. Hit me up in February with the JB award”? There was zero reference to the allegations. As framed, it seemed he chose to defer receiving the award. Once again, he set the terms and ASA went along with them. There was zero acknowledgement of the survivors who have come forward. Do they get to say “sorry, can’t make it — sociology feels too unsafe, so I’m no longer attending ASA”? Nope. Kimmel’s celebrity remains intact. This was ASA’s biggest “Fuck You” to survivors of sexual violence.

To make up for this, an email was sent from ASA council the day after the conference ended:

Harassment, exploitation, and discrimination are violations of the ASA Code of Ethics and can be fundamentally damaging to the wellbeing of our community. The ASA Council is aware of allegations that have been raised about Professor Michael Kimmel and has voted unanimously to defer delivery of the Jessie Bernard Award until more is known about those allegations. In the coming months, members of Council will be working with the ASA Working Group on Harassment (formed in 2017) to conduct a thorough review of awards policies, nomination and appointment processes, and the process for reporting and responding to ethical violations.
Too little, too late. Why hadn’t this message come before or during the conference? We all read the damn Chronicle article. And, still, I wonder what the organization will do to support survivors of sexual violence. There is lipservice to the damage that sexual violence does to our intellectual community. But, there is a failure to acknowledge the damage that fumbling this work does to survivors, their allies, and the broader sociology community. There is no apology for getting this so, soooo wrong. There is no statement about what the organization will do to support, protect, and honor survivors of sexual violence.

What Would Caring Look Like?

My partner challenged me to do one more thing: articulate suggestions for what could have been done better. He’s right and throwing a tantrum “but I don’t wannaaaaa!” would be irresponsible. So, let me at least try. But, please note I am no expert. For example, I still only have the vaguest idea of what restorative justice and transformative justice are. And, I still roll my eyes when I begrudgingly add “alleged” or “accused” before calling out perpetrators of sexual violence — you know, to avoid being sued and what not.

One thing that has been on my mind is for ASA to take stock of what damage sexual violence has done to the discipline. How many people begrudgingly attend ASA despite feeling unsafe — fearing seeing one’s perpetrator, being victimized (again), investing money, time, and emotional energy in to avoiding sexual violence? How many are extremely selective about when they will attend ASA conferences, and for how long? How many stopped attending ASA because it is simply too unsafe or triggering? And/or attend SWS, NWSA, or other conferences that are more hospitable to survivors? How many will not be attending the ASA 2019 annual meeting after this year’s shit-show? How many have left academia, or at least sociology? How many survivors have left tenure-track positions, contingent positions, or graduate programs? What have been the professional, interpersonal, and personal costs to survivors and their allies? How many sexual predators have gotten away with their crimes without being held accountable?

I’d like to see ASA take seriously survivors’ disclosure that they DO NOT feel safe at ASA meetings. I witnessed one survivor do so — they cannot feign ignorance. Meetings should be restructured accordingly. ASA could create a hospitality suite for survivors for upcoming meetings, hiring rape crisis counselors who are easily identifiable with a button or hat or badge ribbon during ASA annual meetings. ASA could provide a block of hotel rooms at a nearby hotel that won’t be home to conference events and/or a small fund for travel should survivors wish to stay even further away.

Perhaps those accused of sexual violence should be asked to skip the next meeting, especially if the accusers will attend.  Or, at a minimum, bar them from staying at the conference hotel.  Sure, innocent until proven guilty and all that jazz, but we have to recognize how few survivors are brave enough to come forward and how exceedingly rare it is for such reports to be false.  It means those “convicted” should be barred from the meetings indefinitely or at least for some productive length of time, at which point they should be forced to undergo some sort of training for sexual predators.  ASA should be sure that the institutions of those accused are aware, perhaps even partnering with them to go beyond addressing sexual violence that occurs during the four days of ASA’s annual conferences.

Frankly, bystander intervention training should be mandatory. Block out one session for all attendees at the 2019 meeting, the 2020 meeting, the 2021 meeting, and so on. Once is not enough for this to sink in. And, bystander intervention methods change and improve over time. Department chairs, administrators, and anyone who serves as a mentor and instructor should be required to attend such training.

Moving forward, I’d like to see ASA amplify the voice and power of survivors not perpetrators. What we saw this year is that the organization gave more space and recognition to Kimmel after a series of allegations were made against him. We saw a refusal for the organization to delete a tweet celebrating an Vox essay by Robert Reece, who called for attending to “gray areas” in obtaining consent for sexual activity and was later outed as a serial rapist and abuser. Meanwhile, ASA never engaged with his accusers on Twitter. And, I’ve yet to see any action or statements released from ASA about Matthew Hughey, John DeLameter, Martin S. Weinberg, or Stephen M. Cohen — either from/about them or from/about those who accused these men of sexual violence.

There are so many experts on sexual violence, gender and violence, sexualities, policy, and organizations within the discipline — ASA could tap more than six people to do this work.  (Compare that to the number of people on the ASA Task Force on public sociology.) Maybe it’s worth creating an ASA staff position exclusively for addressing sexual violence. And, surely, it is ASA’s job to look to other models of organizational responses to sexual violence.

That’s it for now. I’m tired, y’all. But, I refuse to give up.

A Call For Sociology’s #MeToo Mo(ve)ment

Ahead of next week’s American Sociological Association (ASA) 2018 annual meeting in Philadelphia, PA, it seems sociology’s #MeToo moment has finally arrived. Assistant Professor Robert L. Reece (University of Texas – Austin) was accused of serial rape and abuse in March — that is, after writing a Vox essay arguing that the #MeToo movement fails to consider the “gray areas” inherent in navigating heterosexual sexual activity. ASA’s Twitter account (@ASAnews) still promotes Reece’s Vox article, which — to me — is akin to promoting Klansmen’s (and women’s) views on Black people and race relations in general, and Nazis’ views on Jewish and LGBTQ Americans. ASA essentially has amplified and tacitly endorsed an accused rapist’s view of rape while doing nothing to amplify survivors’ voices.

Two weeks later, news broke that University of Wisconsin – Madison paid out $591,000 in settlements for sexual violence cases at the university. Emeritus Professor John D. DeLamater’s name was revealed as one sexual predator whom the department and university protected:

In another, sociology professor, John DeLamater, was found to commit impermissible long-term behavior harassing graduate students with inappropriate comments and touching. He was ordered to go through extensive harassment awareness training, and was no longer allowed to have unsupervised contact with students. Delamater died while the case was pending.

Later in April, Associate Professor Matthew W. Hughey (University of Connecticut) was accused of as a rape and abuse:

On August 1, the Chronicle of Higher Education published an article featuring SUNY Professor Michael S. Kimmel’s response to allegations that he has sexually harassed multiple graduate students. An anonymous Twitter account, @exposeprof, questioned why Kimmel — given his long record of perpetuating sexual violence — was selected as the 2018 winner of ASA’s Jessie Bernard career award for enlarging “the horizons of sociology to encompass fully the role of women in society.” Through his public statement, he was able to set a six-month deadline for his accusers to formally report his sexual violence to ASA. If no one comes forward (despite the limitations of ASA’s reporting system) or ASA’s Committee on Professional Ethics finds his behavior in line with guidelines for ethical behavior, he wins is prize in January. The current system of reporting sexual violence that occurs at annual meetings fails to acknowledge that few victims report sexual violence.

Beyond the award, will Kimmel still be welcome to attend ASA meetings, which many of his victims also attend? Too little consideration is given to how unsafe ASA meetings are for survivors, perhaps leading some to stop attending all together despite losing out on professional opportunities to present one’s work and to network. What justice will be served to the graduate students his sexual harassment has left traumatized? Fearful? To those whose work he has stolen and claimed as his own? Besides Kimmel, how do we address this problem in the future? There are many sexual predators whose careers continue on unaffected.

And, Emeritus Professor Martin S. Weinberg (Indiana University) is one such person. On August 3rd, I decided to break my silence about the sexual harassment I experienced as a grad student at IU at the hands of Weinberg. As far as I’ve heard, Weinberg’s sexual violence has gone unpunished by IU and its sociology department for years, if not decades. Consequently, even after the he retired, he has been accused of harassing current grad students — those who have come years after me.

These latest exposures have given birth to a #MeTooSociology thread on social media, especially on Twitter. On this thread, you’ll find:

So, now we’re talking. This is sociology’s #MeToo moment, just under a year after the #MeToo movement exploded nationally (that is, over a decade after Tarana Burke launched this movement in 2006), and eight months since The Professor Is In’s survey went viral, collecting over 2,400 entries.

Our moment… A moment isn’t long enough, in my opinion. “Sociology’s #MeToo” Moment” implies that this moment will pass. By next year’s ASA conference in NYC, sociologists will be buzzing about some other controversy. Indeed, the Sociologists Against Sexual Harassment (SASH) — later renamed the International Coalition Against Sexual Harassment (ICASH), launched in 1992, seems to have died out in the past few years. Yet, here we are in 2018…

Sociologists Against Sexual Violence (SASV)

To prevent letting this #MeTooSociology moment end, I call, instead, for a #MeTooSociology movement. Given our critical investigation of power, gender, sexuality, and organizations, sociologists are in excellent position to raise public understanding of sexual violence and to inform laws and policies to support survivors and pursue justice on their behalf. And, we have at our fingertips sociological knowledge and resources to eliminate sexual violence within our own ranks. For example:

  • See Dr. Adia Harvey Wingfield’s (Sociologists for Women in Society president, Southern Sociological Society president-elect, and [in my opinion] the next president-elect of ASA) Conditionally Accepted blog post on the ways in which universities facilitate sexual violence. (Also see Dr. Bedelia Nicola Richards’s Conditionally Accepted blog post on the ways in which universities facilitate white supremacy.)
  • See Dr. Debra Guckenheimer’s suggestions for what perpetrators (like Kimmel) should do once their sexual violence has been brought to light.
  • See Dr. Hephzibah Strmic-Pawl’s suggestions for action that the discipline should take to effectively address sexual violence.
  • See my blog post arguing that when departments, universities, and professional societies fail to address sexual violence in academia, they pass the burden on to individuals to work with or around (or avoid) those perpetrators.

Yet, since news broke of then-presidential candidate Donald J. Trump’s taped admission of perpetrating sexual violence against multiple women, sociologists have been noticeably absent from national discourse on sexual violence.  This silence is even more suspect now as a national movement has taken shape (#MeToo), and initiatives focusing on the issue specifically within academia have been launched (#MeTooPhD). In fact, even in the discipline as multiple perpetrators have been identified and victims have voiced their experiences, most sociologists have done little beyond discussion of this epidemic. While public statements are an important first step, sustained action is needed to dismantle the systems that facilitate sexual violence.

ASA has created a working group on harassment, tasked to develop a more stringent anti-harassment policy for ASA annual meetings.  (But, are policies and trainings enough?) The group is also hosting two workshops at the 2018 annual meeting. (See the full list of events related to sexual violence at next week’s ASA conference here.) However, a group directly affiliated with ASA is constrained in its ability to hold the organization accountable for effectively addressing sexual violence. And, I am worried that these efforts continue to view victims as subordinate-status heterosexual non-Hispanic white cisgender women without disabilities and perpetrators as senior-level heterosexual non-Hispanic white cisgender men without disabilities. We must recognize sexual violence as one manifestation of any system of oppression, including sexism, cissexism, heterosexual, racism, xenophobia, classism, ableism, fatphobia, ageism, and religious intolerance. And, more importantly, we must be attuned to sexual violence at the intersections among these systems of oppression.

In light of these issues, Dr. Shantel Gabrieal Buggs, Dr. Hephzibah Strmic-Pawl, and I propose creating an independent initiative: Sociologists Against Sexual Violence. Broadly, this group would serve to address sexual violence in and through sociology. We cannot effectively achieve our goal of using sociological insights to end sexual violence while it continues to happen within our own ranks. Ideally, we should be a model discipline for the entire profession, and be at the forefront of national discourse on this epidemic.

Some specific ideas we have for addressing sexual violence through sociology:

  1. Amplifying the work of sociologists who do work on sexual assault, rape, sexual harassment, stalking, and intimate partner violence. This can include putting experts in touch with the media, creating a database of experts, and creating a blog that features accessible blog posts on key sociological insights, new research, and sociological critiques of current events. This public sociology initiative can also include offering concrete steps for organizations to address sexual violence, for bystanders to intervene when sexual violence occurs, for victims to know what options exist for them, and for potential victims to protect themselves against the threat of sexual violence. Particular emphasis should be placed on an intersectional understanding of sexual violence.
  2. Work to create new opportunities for research on sexual violence, including conference sessions, special issues in journals, and funding opportunities.
  3. Contribute to and support the #MeToo movement.
  4. Compile and publicize research briefs on sexual violence to serve the work of non-profit organizations, activists, lawyers, and schools. For example, raise awareness about how organizations actually facilitate sexual violence.
  5. Issue amicus briefs for court cases on sexual violence.
  6. Create a public syllabus with crucial readings for the sociological, intersectional understanding of sexual violence.
  7. Create a database of resources for teaching on sexual violence.

And, some specific ideas that we have for addressing sexual violence in the discipline:

  1. Contribute to and support the #MeTooPhD initiative.
  2. Conduct a survey of survivors in the discipline to assess the pervasiveness of sexual violence in sociology, the professional and health consequences of sexual violence for victims, and the social location and professional status of perpetrators of sexual violence. One crucial question is whether survivors of sexual violence limit their participation at annual meetings, or forgo these meetings all together. (Many women attend Sociologists for Women in Society exclusively for this reason.)
  3. Host workshops on sexual violence at ASA meetings, particularly on bystander training.
  4. Create safe spaces for survivors at ASA meetings (e.g., a hospitality suite just for survivors, morning meditation/prayer for survivors).
  5. Host trainings for department chairs to address sexual violence.
  6. Conduct a survey of departments to find out whether and how sexual violence is being addressed, and the effectiveness of measures currently taken.
  7. Push ASA to improve its reporting system for sexual violence, and the measures used to hold perpetrators accountable. Assess how useful this system is for sexual violence in the discipline that does not occur at annual meetings.
  8. Protect sociologists who pursue advocacy and activism on sexual violence from professional harm and public backlash.
  9. With every initiative, devote special attention to the discipline’s most vulnerable members, including graduate students, junior faculty, contingent faculty, and those at the intersections of multiple systems of oppression (e.g., women of color).

If you are interested in helping to launch this movement — whether it be the Sociologists Against Sexual Violence initiative or take another form — please join Dr. Buggs, Dr. Strmic-Pawl, and me during our meeting at ASA: this Saturday (August 11), 8-10pm EST in Pennsylvania Convention Center room 104. We welcome ideas for the structure this group will take, what its vision and values will be, and who will lead it. If you are unable to attend, please contact us by email either ahead of or immediately after the meeting. There are a few workshops on sexual violence at ASA that you should also check out.

On Sunday, 8/12, we ask that you wear white to help raise awareness about sexual violence in sociology.  The three of us will be handing out #MeTooPhD and Sociologists Against Sexual  Violence buttons at the ASA and Society for the Student of Social Problems conferences, and the ASA Section on Sexualities preconference this Thursday and Friday.

As Dr. Wingfield noted in her SWS statement this morning:

As many of you know, our discipline is having a public reckoning with the issue of sexual harassment and abuse. As the #MeToo movement has shown (and as many of us already know), no industries are immune from the problem of those in power abusing it to harass those in subordinate positions. This issue within the field of sociology is not a new one and there have been conversations about this for years. In fact, SWS was initially founded because of the lack of support for women and nonbinary people in ASA. It seems old issues die hard.

We are overdue for this reckoning. We are overdue in making our classrooms, departments, universities, committees, professional societies, and conferences safe, free from abuses of power, sexual violence, bias and discrimination, and other unethical behavior. We are overdue for recognizing and redressing the “brain-drain” that our discipline experiences in lost productivity, skipped conferences, terminated collaborations and mentoring relationships, and other ways in which individuals have to make difficult decisions about how to interact with (or not) perpetrators who walk around freely and continue to be rewarded and protected. We are overdue for putting this silly “activism versus academia” debate to rest and actually putting our insights to use to end this epidemic on our campuses and beyond.

#MeTooSociology – will you join us?

Sociologists, #CiteBlackWomen: Wear Your T-Shirt On Saturday, August 11, 2018!

Wear your Cite Black Women t-shirt on Saturday, August 11th!

Sociologists attending one or more of the upcoming conferences in Philadelphia, PA in August — Association for Black Sociologists, American Sociological Association, Society for the Study of Social Problems, Sociologists for Women in Society, Association for the Sociology of Religion, Society for the Study of Symbolic Interaction — please take part in the #CiteBlackWomen t-shirt campaign.  Purchase your “Cite Black Women” t-shirt immediately so that you can take part.  We will wear our cool t-shirts on Saturday, August 11th.  Besides taking part in this important cause, doing so is a great excuse to dress a bit more casual for the day. And, the proceeds go to the Winnie Mandela School in Salvador, Bahia.

(And, while you’re at it, please plan to wear any piece of white clothing on Sunday, August 12th in solidarity with survivors of sexual violence in our discipline. And, keep an eye out for #MeTooPhD and Sociologists Against Sexual Violence buttons. See more info here.)

Growing evidence points to yet another way in which Black women’s contributions are devalued and ignored: academic citation rates. Unfortunately, even for those Black women academics who are able to thrive despite subtle and overt efforts to push them out of academia, their work is undercited relative to their white and male counterparts. To put it bluntly, the extent to which one’s publications are cited is a form of professional capital. So, this means that Black women are at yet another disadvantage when it comes to merit reviews, tenure, promotion, awards, grants, invitations, etc. — all of which also translates into yet another mechanism producing racial and gender disparities in income, power, and influence. It is yet another way in which Black women are not recognized for their intellectual and creative works, not compensated for their labor, and not considered worthy of learning from.

To quote the campaign’s founder, Dr. Christen A. Smith (@profsassy) of the Transformation Silence Collective:

It’s simple: Cite Black Women. We have been producing knowledge since we blessed this earth. We theorize, we produce, we revolutionize the world. We do not need mediators. We do not need interpreters. It’s time to disrupt the canon. It’s time to upturn the erasures of history. It’s time to give credit where credit is due. 

To be clear, these racial and gender disparities in citation rates undermine the advancement of new knowledge. So, why call for political action to address this matter?  Because “[c]itation is political.” This t-shirt campaign is, of course, just a start. But, every movement starts by bringing light to the issue.

The campaign’s broader goals are to encourage academics to make the following commitments:

  1. Read black women’s work.
  2. Integrate black women into the core of your syllabus.
  3. Acknowledge black women’s intellectual production.
  4. Make space for black women to speak.
  5. Give black women “the space and time to breathe.”

Beyond buying and wearing the t-shirt, I call upon my fellow sociologists to intentionally and actively counter the systemic erasure of Black women academics’ work. Cite them. Assign their work. Hire them as consultants. Pay them for their labor. Nominate them for awards and elected positions. Include them on conference panels. Invite them to speak on campus. Become familiar with their work, and use whatever your privilege to amplify that work.

Further Reading About The #CiteBlackWomen Campaign:

Events Related To Sexual Violence At The American Sociological Association 2018 Annual Meeting (Philly)

For my fellow sociologists planning to attend the 2018 annual meeting of the American Sociological Association in Philadelphia, I have compiled a list of meetings, workshops, paper sessions, and roundtable presentations related to sexual assault, rape, sexual harassment, intimate partner violence, the #MeToo movement and other activism to end sexual violence.  You may download a PDF version here or see the full list below.  These events will also be listed in an upcoming issue of Footnotes.

WEAR WHITE ON SUNDAY, AUGUST 12TH TO SUPPORT SURVIVORS OF SEXUAL VIOLENCE.

Meetings

Sociologists Against Sexual Violence – a proposed new group

Sat, August 11, 8:00 to 10:00pm, Pennsylvania Convention Center, Level 100, 104.

Organizers: Eric Anthony Grollman (University of Richmond) and Shantel Gabrieal Buggs (Florida State University)

Given their critical investigation of power, gender, sexuality, and organizations, sociologists are in excellent position to raise public understanding of sexual violence and to inform laws and policies to support survivors and punish perpetrators. Yet, since news broke of then-presidential candidate Donald J. Trump’s taped admission of perpetrating sexual violence against multiple women, sociologists were noticeably absent from national discourse on sexual violence. This silence is even more suspect now as a national movement has taken shape (#MeToo), and initiatives focusing on the issue specifically within academia have been launched (#MeTooPhD). In fact, even in the discipline as multiple perpetrators have been identified and victims have voiced their experiences, most sociologists have done little beyond discussion of this epidemic. While public statements are an important first step, sustained action is needed to dismantle the systems that facilitate sexual violence. This meeting is open to sociologists who are interested in brainstorming short- and long-term strategies to address sexual violence both in and through sociology.

Workshops

#MeTooPhD: Addressing Sexual Violence in and through Sociology

Sat, August 11, 10:30am to 12:10pm, Pennsylvania Convention Center, Street Level, 104A

Organizer and Presider: Eric Anthony Grollman (University of Richmond)

Panelists:

  • Irene Shankar (Mount Royal University)
  • Shawn McGuffey (Boston College)
  • Karen Kelsky (TheProfessorIsIn.com)
  • Bethany Coston (Virginia Commonwealth University)
  • Leslie Jones (University of Pennsylvania)
  • Hephzibah Strmic-Pawl (Manhattanville College)
  • Nicole Bedera (University of Michigan)

Ways to effectively prevent sexual violence and support survivors of such violence in multiple contexts in sociology, including classrooms, departments, conferences, research abroad, and online. And, ways that we might use sociology to support broader movements to end sexual violence around the nation.

 

Bystander Intervention for Combating Sexual Misconduct in Sociology: Everyone Can Be Part of the Solution (Organized by the ASA Working Group on Harassment; Cosponsored by Sociologists for Women in Society)

Sun, August 12, 10:30am to 12:10pm, Philadelphia Marriott Downtown, Level 4, Franklin Hall 9

Organizer: Kathrin Zippel (Northeastern University)

Leader: Sharyn J. Potter (University of New Hampshire)

How to intervene as engaged bystanders before, during and after instances of sexual and relationship violence, stalking and harassment.

 

Sexual Harassment in Professional Associations

(Organized by the ASA Working Group on Harassment)

Sun, August 12, 2:30 to 4:10pm, Philadelphia Marriott Downtown, Level 4, Franklin 13

Organizers: Kathrin Zippel (Northeastern University) and Erika Marín-Spiotta (University of Wisconsin – Madison)

Panelists:

  • Alexandra Kalev (Tel Aviv University)
  • Frank Dobbin (Harvard University)
  • Justine E. Tinkler (University of Georgia)
  • Erika Marín-Spiotta (University of Wisconsin – Madison)

Drawing on research on and experiences with harassment prevention in workplace organizations, we will discuss what steps professional associations can do to promote a professional, learning and working environment free of harassment.

Paper Sessions

  • Sexual Assault and Intimate Partner Violence: Explanatory Factors Across Multiple Contexts; Mon, August 13, 8:30 to 10:10am, Philadelphia Marriott Downtown, Level 4, Franklin 13
  • Gender, Social Movements, and (In)Justice; Mon, August 13, 4:30 to 6:10pm, Philadelphia Marriott Downtown, Level 4, Franklin Hall 6; Jaime Hartless – “#MeToo and the Silence Breakers: Managing Allyship and Incorporating Intersectionality Without Derailing Activism”
  • Gendered Violence, Sexual Harassment, and Title IX; Tue, August 14, 2:30 to 4:10pm, Pennsylvania Convention Center, Street Level, 111B

Roundtable Presentations

  • Informal Discussion Roundtable Session; Sun, August 12, 10:30am to 12:10pm, Philadelphia Marriott Downtown, Level 5, Salon G; Table 9; Judith A. Richman – “The ‘ME Too’ Movement challenging male abuses of power: Addressing the psychotherapy arena”
  • Section on Communication, Information Technologies, and Media Sociology Refereed Roundtable Session; Sun, August 12, 10:30 to 11:30am, Pennsylvania Convention Center, Street Level, 103B; Table 05. Identity and Influence in the Digital Landscape; Leslie Jones – “#MeToo and the Digital Black Feminist Critique of Colorblind Feminist Politics”
  • Section on Social Psychology Refereed Roundtable Session; Mon, August 13, 2:30 to 4:10pm, Philadelphia Marriott Downtown, Level 5, Salon D; Table 1; Kaitlin M. Boyle, Jennifer Turner, and Tara Elizabeth Sutton – “Feeling Sexual Harassment and Microaggressions in Graduate School: The Role of Negative Emotion in Disordered Drinking
  • Section on Sociology of Sex and Gender Refereed Roundtable Session; Tue, August 14, 10:30am to 12:10pm, Philadelphia Marriott Downtown, Level 5, Salon H – tables 13 (Intimate Partner Violence) and 17 (Sexual Assault, Trafficking, and Street Harassment)

On Being Gender Agnostic

Team T

Academics, raise your hand if you have trouble sitting down to write in the morning?  Now, how many of you find that your procrastination stems from trying to figure out who you are in this world?  I do — and, today is one of those days.  In being a good little solider in NCFDD‘s Faculty Success Program bootcamp, I set aside this time to prepare my keynote speech — “Blogging for (a) change in higher education” — for next week’s Media Pre-Conference, ahead of the American Sociological Association annual meeting.  Instead, I am blogging (for a change) because my head, heart, and spirit are stuck this morning in the question, “who am I?” — at least with regard to gender.

I acknowledge that I am a bit self-absorbed, less because of arrogance or egotism, but more because of fear, self-doubt, and anxiety about my survival and success.  I am incredibly self-aware and reflexive, perhaps to a fault.  I am constantly trying to find meaning in the world, and to make it a better place.  My gender identity, though, is frequently up for internal debate because I lack a clear, static sense of who I am.  Is certainty about one’s gender identity a privilege afforded exclusively to cisgender people — those people who wake each day knowing who they are, and who go to bed each night having had their identity affirmed through every interaction and by every institution they enter throughout the day?  Once again, I canot get right to my work challenging patriarchy, cissexism, heterosexism, and racism out in the world because I’m consumed trying to figure out who I am in the world.  So much for the unlimited supply of cisgender male privilege I was promised when assigned male at birth.

You see, I recall as early as age 5 that my sense of gender does not align with the sex I was assigned at birth.  After openly writing about my gender as a journey, and my developing sense of being non-binary, my mom commented that she doesn’t recall me telling her (in my 5 year old voice) that I should have been born a girl.  I found girls my age to be incredibly interesting in their depth, complexity, and compassion; boys seemed one-dimensional in their desire to connect purely on a detached, physical level through sports.  In hindsight, perhaps being a girl in a boy’s body was the best I could come up with to name what I later realized was a queer sexuality.

In 2003 — the year I turned 18, and transitioned from high school to college — I passed the coming out test with flying colors.  After years of hiding in the closet, I left it and never looked back.  But, upon taking courses in sociology and gender studies, I began to realize my uniqueness was not limited to being a male-assigned-at-birth who is sexually and emotionally attracted to men.  I found my attraction to masculinity extended beyond its expression in cis men, and that my attraction to maleness was not limited to those with a masculine gender expression.  And, I began recognizing that the category of (cis) man was incredibly narrow for all of my queer fabulousness — or that it didn’t fit at all.  So, I went off to graduate school proudly identifying as genderqueer to account for my queer gender identity.

I won’t once again rehash the role the traumatizing chapter of graduate school has played in my gender journey.  Let’s just say mainstream sociology is not a place that welcomes playing with, fucking with, or transitioning gender.  I have grad school to thank for putting me back in the closet, at least in terms of being genderqueer.  I have slowly come out again quite publicly, now as non-binary in large part because I have begun to recover from that trauma.

But, if anything, I feel as if I have been hiding in plain sight.  To the extent that people have internet access and actually give a damn, they can easily find that I am non-binary.  I’ve written about it and I sign my emails with a note that I use they/them gender pronouns.  There are even a few pictures of me in various states of drag.  I have even gotten comfortable enough to share pictures of myself donning various gender expressions to personalize my lectures on gender identity and expression.

You know — but, the joke is on me, because you can easily forget.  I dress like a dude — partly because of comfort and partly because of fear of violence and discrimination.  I don’t want to admit that the slow genocide of Black trans women is perhaps one factor that has held me back from owning trans womanhood.  Though I don’t quite feel comfortable in the category of cisgender man, I present as such on a daily basis, and am rewarded accordingly.  When I put on a suit each day next week at the sociology conference, I’ll easily pass as a cis man, perhaps even white in a certain light, and maybe even straight if I’m not feeling particularly excited or chatty.  I hesitate to fuck with gender at the conference for fear it will be seen as too political (somehow more political than is any other gender expression), for fear it will distract from my message, and for fear of harassment.  But, I feel I remain complicit in misgendering myself by not being non-binary “enough.”  What’s a non-binary unicorn to do?

Fear of others’ reaction aside, I cannot seem to get passed the heavy emphasis on proving my gender identity through my attire and appearance.  My partner has the exclusive pass to see what’s in my pants, but the entire world will take me at my word that I am “biologically” male (with all of the required parts) because of the masculine attire I wear.  But, I’m afraid no one believes I’m genuinely non-binary because I don’t look it.  I don’t don a queer, colorful hairstyle (umm, thanks a lot early onset baldness).  I don’t wear make-up or nail polish (meh, too lazy).  I only seem to wear feminine clothing on special occasions (it’s fun for a night, but seems really impractical otherwise).

My preference for masculine attire has less to do with the gender I wish to express than simply being comfortable in loose-fitting clothes. Unlike other non-binary folks like Jacob Tobia and Alok Vaid-Menon (of Dark Matter Poetry) who frequently share fab pictures of themselves, I generally don’t feel compelled to express my non-binaryness through dress.  For me, it’s about how I feel in my spirit, my mind, my politics, and how I relate to other people.  Frankly, I’m non-binary in all of the ways you can’t readily see on the outside.

Maybe this is also connected to race and body size.  (You have got to read this essay by Ashleigh Shackleford on the complex intersections among gender non-conformity from Blackness and fatness.)  When I Google images of non-binary, I see dozens of images of thin white androgynous people; I don’t really see anyone who looks like me.  And, of what I see, I am drawn to people I assume to be female-assigned-at-birth in masculine or butch attire; my eyes skip over the (thin white) likely male-assigned-at-birth individuals in feminine attire.

The best I can do to make sense of this complexity is a sense of agnosticism about gender.  In my heart of hearts, I’d rather not constrain myself to a particular gender category or gender destiny.  The two main options — woman and man — suck.  I’ve thought, these days, it would almost be easier for me if I just identified as a trans woman; increasingly, Americans know at least something about trans people.  (Like my father, the average person likely would respond, “non-binary?  what the hell is BINARY?)  But, I have realized I am not a trans woman because I am not interested in attempting to authentically perform the rather constraining category of woman.  And, the category of man is pretty shortsighted, too.  There’s always agender, but I can’t wrap my head around not identifying in gendered terms despite not being able to opt out of the gender system.

There is no escaping being gendered and doing gender!

How ridiculous this all seems when I am well aware that gender is a social construction.  Drawing from the Thomas and Thomas theorem, to which many intro sociology students are exposed, if people define gender as real, it is real in its consequences.  There is no physical or biological basis for gender.  Yet, it is a fundamental organizing principle in society; gender shapes and constrains every social interaction, social institution, and every individuals’ sense of self.  Even if I decide I simply don’t believe in gender, I can’t escape its influence in my life.  And, pretending to be “gender-blind” would be just as dangerous as is trying to be “color-blind.”

So, I’m left with three options: 1) identify as a cis man (because I easily read as one), but queer the hell out of the category where possible; 2) identify as non-binary, and define for myself what that entails and what that looks like (if anything); or 3) do nothing, and just awkwardly move from gendered interaction to gendered interaction.  I’ve gotta say though, I’m pretty lazy about getting dressed in the morning.  I suppose I can live up to my declaration to keep playing with gender and to do gender boldly (to boldly go where no queer has gone before?), but, as a gender agnostic, I keep wondering whether there is more to gender than its expression in clothing, hair, and make-up.  Can’t I be a woman today, even if I’m wearing a loose black t-shirt and bagging blue gym shorts?  Can’t I be non-binary without dressing like a skinny white androgynous hipster?  Can’t I be a man, even when I’m rocking a blonde bombshell wig, a sexy red dress, and knee-high boots?

More questions than answers, as usual when I’m reflecting on this gender journey of mine.  But, at least I can get to work now.  Thanks for reading.