Breaking The Ice

Right Here

I felt helpless, and a little lost, like I was in the middle of it all with a front row seat and no idea how to change it. I knew I couldn't control other people, or change how they thought or what they did, but I had a responsibility to Teej and every other woman I knew to do something about it. It wasn't that I perceived them as weak or unable to handle it for themselves, it was just that I knew they shouldn't have to. It wasn't their responsibility to have to scream and shout about what was being done to them, to ask us to respect them, it was our responsibility as men to stop doing it. It was our job to speak up, to change the culture, because we were the ones who created and perpetuated the problem.

I was well aware that when a woman speaks up about how she is treated it's seen as them being dramatic or over sensitive, but when a man does it it's seen as strength and confidence. I knew that a woman speaking passionately about things was often dismissed as too emotional, whereas a man being passionate is regarded as determination and intelligence. I was aware of the double standards, of how hard women had to fight to be respected even a fraction of men, but I never could have dreamed the kind of sacrifices that were made behind the scenes.

I thought about what Teej had said about how she'd made it this far, about how if she hadn't taken all of their shit she probably wouldn't have even been able to play college hockey, and the most fucked up thing about it was that I knew it was true. If she'd shot her mouth off in some random junior league they would have cut her immediately, not wanting the hassle of a player who had a bad attitude, and her hockey career would have been over before it started. But there was something fundamentally wrong with that.

The message being sent to not only Teej but the people she played with was simply that she didn't deserve the same amount of respect as the other players, which just left the door open for people to keep treating her like that. It spoke to the idea that she was different, that she wasn't just another member of the team, that her role wasn't the same even though they were all there for the same reason.

Men and women have different roles in life, that's just basic biology, but at what point did one of those roles become so much more respected than the other? When did we get this idea that we were somehow more superior than someone else based on our gender? That it was perfectly acceptable to expect women to offer you their body simply because you wanted it? My brain felt broken trying to process it all, not able to wrap my mind around that way of thinking, racking my brain as to what I could do to change it.

And the idea that I may have somehow contributed to the problem made me sick.

I'd had a sobering opportunity to witness the consequences of those kind of actions, seen firsthand what that culture was capable of causing, and I'd sworn to myself that I would never be someone who made anyone feel like that. I'd made a conscious effort to be respectful, to make women feel safe and secure when I was around, to hold my friends accountable for the way they treated women. But I hadn't done enough, and that was glaringly obvious.

My thoughts were interrupted as TJ's phone rang in the cupholder between us, and I watched as she reached over and picked it up, answering it as she brought it to her ear.

"Hey, B." She said. "You make it home for the holidays okay?"

"Hey, Teej! Yeah, we're just at the airport now, I just wanted to call and say Merry Christmas in case I don't talk to you guys." Brielle said, her voice coming loud enough through the speaker so I could hear her.

"Merry Christmas to you too." Teej smiled. "I'm glad you're gonna get away for a while, hopefully everything is sorted out by the time you get back."

"Yeah..." She sighed. "The cops said they're still working on it. So hopefully they figure it out so I can come home when school starts back up."

"They still don't have anything?"