Monday, September 26, 2011

I think I've been slut-shamed.

So the other day I had dinner with a friend.

This wouldn't be particularly noteworthy if it weren't for the fact that for the moment, at least, this friend of mine lives in Michigan.  He's there as a result of some circumstances I don't feel free to divulge because although there's nothing criminal involved, it's a situation that has been very hurtful to two people of whom I am very fond, and I wouldn't want to add to that.  All you really need to know, for the purposes of understanding this rant, is that I live within an hour of a border crossing between Canada and the United States, that I have a friend who is currently living in Michigan through no real choice of his own, and that his wife still lives on the Canadian side of the border.

And that the border guard who questioned me on the American side of the border seemed to have appointed himself a member of the Morality Police.

I realize that they have the right to ask any question, and to do practically anything, to anyone seeking to cross the border as long as they can justify it as a matter of national security.  I understand the importance of making sure that anyone entering the country is not planning to do anything illegal or dangerous while there.  But once I'd revealed that I was planning to visit a friend, and that my friend was male, there was suddenly a level of hostility in this man's questioning of me that I have rarely encountered elsewhere for any other reason.

The line of questioning went something like this:

*Where do you live?
*What do you do for a living?
*How long do you expect to be in the United States?
*What are you here for?
*Where does your friend live?
*What is your friend's name?
*How do you know him?
*But you're only here to visit him, not his wife?
*Why doesn't his wife live with him?
*Are you here to bring him something from her?
*Does she visit him often?
*I want to know why a you would be visiting a married man in the United States when his wife isn't here.

It kind of went downhill from there, though (thank goodness) he did eventually let me into the country.  As the questioning went on, I could see a sneer developing on the border guard's face.  Even as I outwardly remained calm and polite, internally I was seething.  If my friend had been female, or if I'd been a man, or if I'd been travelling with a boyfriend or husband I don't have, my intention to spend a few hours with a friend who happened to live in Michigan wouldn't have been at all suspect.  Even if I hadn't had to reveal that my friend is married (which I unfortunately had to do, as I can't lie to save my life under most circumstances, and I met him because his wife has been a good friend of mine for six or seven years), it might not have seemed overly suspicious to this guy.  But suddenly, as soon as he found out that my friend is married and that his wife lives on my side of the border, he started speaking to me like I was some kind of slut who was out to wreck a marriage, just because I had the temerity to visit a married man without the presence of his wife.

Quite frankly, because she usually only gets to see him once or twice a week, I wouldn't dream of asking if I could intrude on their time together, but that's entirely beside the question anyway because I had the distinct impression that the border guard was going to deny me entry into the country until I repeatedly assured him that I had no intention of interfering with a marriage.

It's like he thought that I shouldn't want to see my married male friend simply because he currently has to reside in a country that is not my own and because I am a woman who is not his wife.  Like he thought that a single woman who is friends with a married man can be nothing but a homewrecker.  In fact, I'm almost certain that this is what was running through his mind; it showed in his questioning and in the sneer on his face.

I've never understood this idea that people can't be friends if they have different sorts of genitalia. Maybe it's just because when I was growing up, the vast majority of the people I associated with were male; being the only female player in a competitive pipe and drum band was no cakewalk much of the time (though it did have its perks; for example, unless my family was travelling with us, I always had a room to myself when we went to the various competitions in which we played), but at least it taught me that the idea that women and men can't be friends is total bullshit.  These guys, until my depression kicked in and I started to withdraw and become more sarcastic, were my friends and I valued their friendship.  (I still miss them, but I suspect that in the worst of my depression, we all burned those bridges just a bit too thoroughly to really be friends again.)  Sure, I did develop a couple of crushes along the way, and at least one of them apparently developed a brief crush on me, but that was always secondary to what was really important: these guys were my bandmates, my friends, and an odd type of extended family.  And as we got older, I think we all benefitted from this demonstration of the fact that not everybody who's friends with a member of the opposite sex will automatically want to jump each other's bones, and that it's not necessarily a disaster even if there is an attraction, requited or not.

It's no secret that I think that Western society in general tends to put too much emphasis on the shape of our bodies, regardless of whether it's the amount of fat we've got under our skin or what reproductive organs we've got.  I don't hold any hope that this border guard had any particular moment of enlightenment resulting from our conversation; I'm sure that even though he did eventually allow me to remain in the USA, he probably remained convinced that I was just some evil Canadian slut who was hell-bent on corrupting the morals of an innocent American man and destroying his marriage.  Mind, I can't bring myself to care; people can be ridiculously judgemental about things that don't match their particular view of the world, but my concern about his opinion of me ended the moment he permitted my entry into his country.  I just wish that my intent to visit a friend wasn't automatically considered suspicious just because of our respective sexes and marital statuses.

1 comment:

  1. Beside the fact that even if you were going to hypothetically ruin a marriage, it's none of the guard's damn business, and it his not his job to prevent you from doing anything you damn well please. Homewrecking might be sleazy, but it isn't against the law, and it is no warrant for restricting a person's autonomous freedom of movement.

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