Issues
Home and misogyny . . .
Am I home?
Yet I find myself disjointed.
What is a place that rips off my …
The horror that open air cannot be accessed without permission
Permission denied
The demons outside my four walls that jeer, leer
And boil my core
If home is where I burn, then where do I breathe?
Amidst a whirlpool of emotions, juxtaposed desires and an array of questions, I decided to take a year off from college to regroup, travel and acquire professional experience. But that meant going home to Bangladesh first. And I had problems with that.
Dhaka is my home, yet a vivid imagination had lent me a different image of how a home is meant to be. After three years at Mount Holyoke College, a highly liberal, open environment, home had come to signify a place of freedom. But upon my return to Dhaka, I began to feel claustrophobic. I realized that misogyny was shamelessly imprinted in the culturemy culture.
For many South Asian families, misogyny blends into the standard patriarchal household management technique. This system surfaces throughout the day: as a woman, I am not supposed to stay out late, leave home for too many hours or have aggressive opinions. As a woman, my desire for middle-class women's emancipation is mocked. Rather than venting against this misogyny, I hope to capture the voice of middle-class and upper middle-class women who are required to filter their desired opinions and expose the effect returning home has on international students.
Family sticks out as the most important deterrent to shaking this status quo, and, ironically, it is responsible for the secret agony of the unfulfilled dreams of many women. Entering the role as wife and mother vacuums up the "dirt" that is women's dreams. Despite the exponential increase in female enrollment in schools in Bangladesh, their course of life is still mediated by decision-makers outside of themselves. The anxiety of having to deal with the qualms that will inevitably surface upon the mention of an unwomanly endeavor prevents these women from voicing what they would like to do: travel, work as street photographers or become professional athletes.
One of the most painful ways misogyny is manifested at home is "eve teasing." Eve teasing is a euphemism used in India, Bangladesh and Pakistan for public sexual harassment, street harassment or molestation of women by men. It is a form of sexual aggression that ranges in severity from sexually suggestive remarks, inadvertent touches in public places, catcalls, to outright groping. Many feminists and voluntary organizations have suggested that eve-teasing refers to the temptress nature of Eve, placing responsibility on the woman as a tease. When I walk down the streets, men gawk at me. These men ogle at passing women like they could undress them shamelessly with their leering eyes. Women as a result clutch on to their shawls with heads down to block out the leering. Their only credible response has become ignoring the harassment that is more commonplace than being pedestrians.
Where something as commonplace as walking in the streets continues to be a problem for women, education statistics are not a satisfactory indication of development in this casequalitative support for education offered must also be in place. In this way I continue to spot ways I can become involved to improve things "when I grow up." This is how an open-minded, accepting communal bubble such as Mount Holyoke has taught me well --- to be a critical thinker but to seek ways to support those in the same boat. And this is how my gap year is cultivating maturity in me, and to realize deeply that I cannot soar without connecting to my disjointed roots. My blood boils, but I have found the momentary solution to the claustrophobia: staying defiant of misogyny.
Dibarah Mahboob writes poetry and essays on social issues.
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