You know you're working in a patriarchal society when.

"You know you're working in a patriarchal society when the word feminist has a weird connotation. -- Self-proclaimed feminist and actress Ellen Page

It's happened once again: my friend Jackie posted a link to one of my recent posts, only to be met with unnecessary hostility from her guy friends. I don't particularly care to talk about it, but I will because there's some chance that it could be helpful to other feminists who have faced harassment or criticism.

"Criticism" is probably too good a word for the facebook comments my post got. In one of them the commenter related an experience with a 'crazy feminist' he had worked with who had 'prattle[d]' on so much about 'sexist conspiracies' that she'd 'ruined' feminism for him, and thusly couldn't read things like my blog. But then he said that of course he was a feminist 'on principle'. Right.

I chose to respond because I was infuriated by his lack of regard for his so-called friend, which I said in my response. I told him that it's not feminist at all to equate feminism with insanity, paranoia, and lack of logic, to treat his friend so poorly, or to blame a woman for ruining feminism for him. I told him that if he can't be a feminist, he should at least try to have good manners.

His response to this was to delete his comments, send me a very nasty personal message, and then block me. His message called me a narrow-minded fanatic, and said that my blog is 'not compelling -- but what the hell, traffic is traffic.'

I'm going to force myself to admit something: it hurt. Even though I know that there's no reason to take anything this jerk says seriously, it hurt.

I don't like to admit it for a few reasons. First, because if I admit that he got to me, it feels like he wins, even though he clearly loses, having exposed himself as a sexist jackass. Second, it feels like me saying that I'm wrong and that he's right, even though I know that what he did is wrong, and know that I stand by my blog. Finally, I hate to admit because I've been indoctrinated to believe that to be hurt by something like this is a sign of weakness, and weakness is feminine and thus bad.

I also don't like to admit that the entire experience of several days of back and forth with this immature individual has made me feel a bit reticent about blogging. What does it say about me and my convictions if one ignorant wank can affect me so much? Again, it feels like he wins.

But after thinking about it a lot, I've come to the conclusion that it's important to be open about how you feel and challenge the notion that such emotions are shameful, and that it's perfectly acceptable to be hurt. It's acceptable to be scared, because publicly proclaiming feminist ideas comes with the occupational hazard of getting shot down, and maybe you're worried that you can't handle it.

It's depressing that the word 'feminist' always seems to be met with this kind of comment. Once you accept that it's part of what you've signed on for as a feminist writer, performer, activist, or feminist anything, it becomes a question of how to deal with it. And so if you'll indulge me, I'll share how I've coped.

1. Talk about it. Don't be afraid to tell your friends that some sort of sexist comment hurt you. Let them support you and trust it when they agree with you. And if they don't support you, well, find someone who does!

2. Think about it.. Don't be afraid to consider what a comment says, or how it makes you feel. You're entitled to those emotions, and you'll probably learn something from them.

3. Respond -- or don't. Every situation, and every feminist, is different. Sometimes answering your critics is the right thing to do, and sometimes it isn't. A smart, sassy response can feel satisfying, but then so can quietly knowing that you're confident enough to not say anything back. It really depends on what's right for you.

4. And when all else fails: Remember that these comments do mean something. That you're upsetting chauvinists, scaring them with your willingness to call out sexism and your talk of demanding equality from them -- probably means that you're doing something right.

Musicians speak out against violence and sexism

In the past month, I've been to three musical performances, and at each one, I got to witness performers taking a stand against sexual violence, sexist language, and hate crimes. Allow me to take a moment to publicly commend each artist and band for doing so:

1) On September 18, I saw Zombie Dogs and Slingshot Dakota play at the Glass Door in Brooklyn. I was surprised when drummer Tom Patterson interrupted Slingshot Dakota's set to speak at length about sexual assault within Brooklyn's punk and underground music 'scene'/community. When I say at length, I mean at length. He spoke for at least ten minutes about how important it is to address these issues, not only for individual survivors, but also for the health and well-being of the entire community. I'd never seen anything like it before at a show, and it was kind of amazing. Props to Tom for saying what so many people can't or won't.

2) On October 9 I was lucky enough to see The Gossip at Terminal 5. In the middle of the band's set, there was some kind of skefuffle up in the front, and from where I was standing on the side, I couldn't really see or hear what was going on. Vocalist Beth Ditto interrupted the show in order to take charge of the situation and mediate. After a few minutes of quiet, wherein Beth spoke to some people in the audience, out of nowhere we all heard her say, "Why would you call her a cunt? I wouldn't call you a faggot, I don't know you!"

It seems that there was some friction and shoving between some guys at the show and the girls who were standing behind them. Beth took a few minutes to explain why it is never appropriate to call a woman a cunt, "unless it's like your best friend, and then sometimes it's funny." It became a running theme for the rest of the evening, as Beth reminded the audience every few songs how un-friendly and un-neighborly namecalling is, not to mention hurtful.

3) On October 17 I went to see Death First and Zombie Dogs at ABC No Rio in Manhattan. On the very same day, a march and rally were scheduled in the College Point area of Queens, where Jack Price, an openly gay man, was recently harassed and then brutally beaten.

Death First vocalist Jessy took some time to talk about the march and rally. She briefly explained what had happened, and why the march and rally had been organized. And she told the audience that Death First might not have any songs specifically about gay bashing, but that she thinks it's really important to approach everything she does "with non-violence".

In case it isn't clear, I dig this trend. I like when the musicians I see and listen to are brave enough to speak out against injustice, and I like when the music I listen to has a political and/or social message. Is there really a point to music that doesn't contain a message of some sort?

I didn't experience revelations or epiphanies or anything like that at any of these events. I'm already aware of these issues of sexism, violence, and, gay bashing, and I already denounce the perpetrators of these crimes, as well as the systems that support and perpetuate these crimes and that allow the perpetrators to go unpunished.

But it still struck me what a huge difference musicians can make when they talk about these issues. If these moments were meaningful to me, what could they have meant to other people in the audience? What could it mean for a kid who's been assaulted or harassed, but can't articulate what she or he has experienced? What could it mean for a young person who wants to talk about these problems, doesn't know how or where to start?

As Tom Patterson of Slingshot Dakota said, the only way to deal with these problems is to talk about them and keep talking about them. If musicians are able to start these conversations and help to keep them going, well, that could only be a good thing for those of us who are struggling every day against violence, sexism, and other types of oppression and discrimination.