When I first sat down to write this article, I was going to write about the objectification of women and women alone. After all, women are disproportionately the victims of objectification. But last night, I was walking home with a guy friend of mine and realized that women were not alone as victims of objectification.
Before I came to the United States, I had never experienced catcalling. It just doesn’t happen in Singapore. Also, anytime I went abroad, I was usually with my family, which includes my father, or with male friends. This distinction matters.
I only ever get catcalled when I am alone or with a group of females. If there is a guy with me, I am spared the agony. This, to me, is all the more demeaning. It makes me feel defined by the men in my life. The thing that is most worrisome is that if a man is walking with me, other men withhold their obnoxious “compliments.” Do they feel that restraint when I am walking alone? No, because they believe that no one will question or challenge them if they yell out.
It also bothers me that no one who hears a catcall speaks up. Personally, I just keep walking because I am afraid that if I say anything, they may try to hurt me or my friends. But I wonder, why is it that no one else around says anything?
In Singapore, more likely than not, you’re going to have an old lady nearby who hears it and begins a rant about respect, marriage and a lack of manners. The rant will proceed to take at least 30 minutes, full of broken English and Singlish slangs, all coming to the same conclusion that the boy is disrespectful and brings shame upon his parents by behaving this way.
I kid you not, old aunties in Singapore are terrifying, and they are everywhere with our aging population. They are also very effective in dissuading behavior of this sort. It is one of the many things that exemplifies how public objectification of women in Singapore is culturally unacceptable. It just generally does not happen, unless people are intoxicated.
That’s not to say women are not objectified in Singapore. It is just manifested in different ways. Old uncles leering on the bus, for example. They never say anything, but, as someone who has been on the receiving end, it’s creepy as hell. Objectification of women is rampant, but just not as pronounced. Its glaring presence here was another aspect of my culture shock.
Apparently it’s a shock for guys too. My guy friend that I mentioned earlier is an exchange student from Europe. He is incredibly good-looking, which is just a fact. However, he has been repeatedly told that he’s really good-looking, and that is all he’s ever been told.
Last night, he mentioned that it felt really weird because he has never had his looks been commented on so much back home, and he felt like his character was being overlooked. I told him that at least now he knew what girls felt like when catcalled.
He agreed that it was far less than desirable. I understood that a part of him felt a little uncomfortable discussing objectification as a male, but it is a necessary conversation to have.
While it is universally understood that objectifying women is bad, sometimes we forget that it’s not acceptable to objectify men either. We like to assume that because they are men, they should be able to take care of themselves. Therefore, it is acceptable to objectify them — that is not fair to men or women. The double standard just breeds excuses for men to do it to women, while telling us to take it as a compliment.
The first time it happened to me, I turned in shock toward the man and asked him if he was actually talking to me. Bad idea. He thought it was an invitation and started to excessively flirt with me. I was honestly just confused. I walked away quickly, breathing heavily with the realization that I was just catcalled.
I am old enough to understand the complexity of the issue and I deal with it. But in the back of my mind, I think of the young teenage girls who are just starting to realize their identities as women. It pains me to think that it is in this world, these young girls will have to negotiate their value as a person and how their sexuality fits into the equation.
To my future daughter, I hope my generation does not fail you, and if we do, I hope you value yourself enough to know better. To my future son, I hope I will teach you well enough to give women the utmost respect, which they deserve.
