Sara Conklin, Washington, DC, USA, SSH Blog Correspondent
This weekend I was feeling particularly enraged about a viral video called Dear Fat People by YouTube comic, Nicole Arbour. In this video of self-proclaimed satire, “fat shaming” is heralded as something of a favor to people; if you can shame people enough, they might just lose weight.
I don’t know what universe Nicole Arbour lives in where shaming any person in any matter is considered a service to society, but I am proud to say I don’t live in the same one.
Unfortunately, the internet isn’t the only place where body image harassment exists. My first blog post was about an incident of street harassment I experienced where the line between objectification and sexism was blurred with a spewed statement of body hate.
This is a scenario that happens all too often – sexualized hecklings with specific references to one’s appearance and particularly, a woman’s curves.
I should be clear that it is neither my goal nor do I have enough time to discuss the myriad of ways in which people of all sizes and genders experience harassment in public spaces. But what I can begin to consider are the ways in which women of a certain body type experience public harassment differently, and I can do so by reflecting on my own experiences.
As Nicole Arbour so unabashedly points out in her gruesome video, plus-size women (or as I will start referring to as women) can be treated like public property, as if our bodies incentivize more of an invitation than others. A harassment perpetrator might feel like it is their privilege to point out a descriptive observation that they just don’t like, i.e. “move that fat ass along.” Melissa A. Fabello the Managing Editor of Everyday Feminism, points out that, “So long as people believe that ‘concern trolling’—harassing and threatening people under the guise of being concerned for their health;—is acceptable, attitudes like this one will not only exist, but also thrive.” Perhaps even to the extent of a “well-intentioned” blonde on YouTube projecting hate to hundreds of thousands of viewers.
In the words of another YouTube comic, Meghan Tonjes, that video was “lazy comedy wrapped in health concern trolling tied in a f***ing privilege bow.”
The sad truth: the street harassment I have experienced is most often directly related to the size of some part of my body or the way an outfit fits on it. So, what is the difference between being harassed by a comedian’s video online and being told to move my fat ass on the street? Not a lot. Both perpetuate and let flourish the notion that “calling out” people who don’t fit a certain qualifying personal descriptor makes them less than and makes them a target for words used to demean people. If you don’t believe that’s even possible, check out the brilliant photographer Haley Morris-Cafiero who captured reactions to her body in public.
We need to shake up the idea that all harassment is the same stereotype: a come-on from the guy in the hard hat to the girl in the short skirt. Truthfully, harassment in public spaces comes in more varieties than we have words to describe it. But, what is lacking in variety are the tools to combat harassment that is guised as body shaming.
I’m always reading articles about women who have witty and poignant comebacks to street harassers. I’d like to think of myself as one of those women. On most days I have an allegorical potluck of shutdowns in my head. But why, when I am directly insulted about the size of my body, do I fall silent? I feel powerless. Perhaps more of our empowering messages to women don’t always require literal references to situational street harassment. It might start at a place deeper-rooted and intrinsically engrained — It might start with body acceptance. It’s worth thinking that if I loved my whole self a little more and was aided in this self-actualization by the world around me, the allegorical potluck could be reeling with comebacks of body positive statements instead of contrived defense mechanisms.
Truthfully, my body does not occupy nearly enough space to be of such a mental occupation to you. Yet, every time you make a comment in regards to it, there is a power dynamic shift. I won’t stand by and let anyone feel powerless because of the way someone sees them. I’m worth more than your lazy and privileged comments in any public space, online or otherwise.
Sara works in fundraising events at an organization that empowers women who face homelessness through recovery, wellness training, and housing. She runs her own photography company (saraconklinphotography.com) and a popular website that seeks to connect the world through pictures, sarapose.com.
