A bedazzled thong, Fashion Nova chain slides, and a matching tiny tube top — this made up my Convocation ensemble. I spent weeks building up my confidence in anticipation of this favorite Smith tradition. I tried getting comfortable seeing my own legs, taking time to appreciate my booty in the mirror, and reminding myself that I’m part of a supportive and body-positive community here at Smith. When Convocation came around, I was proud to eat dinner at Chuckett dining hall in my underwear.
The empowerment did not last. As my friends and I walked across the Northrop-Gillett parking lot to take pictures in our fabulous outfits, a stranger in his car beat us to the punch. His weapon of choice: a smartphone camera; his alibi: DoorDash delivery man. After several yells from across the parking lot, he acknowledged us and claimed that he was photographing a building to complete a DoorDash order — a service that usually requires drivers to photograph their deliveries at the building door, not from their car as they drive away. We argued back and forth across the parking lot until he declared that we were “bugging” and drove off.
While this was the only peeping Tom I know of that was caught photographing, there were a number of random cis men during Convocation that did not appear to have any affiliation with the college observing from the sidelines. Yet, Campus Security’s activities that evening seemed focused on busting underage drinking or unauthorized gatherings — priorities that further demonstrated our police’s ineptitude to keep the community safe. Spending the night tracking down underage students drinking to punish them feels counterproductive to campus safety and very controlling of our autonomy. If this is what the safety officers of our Historically Women’s College prioritize over protecting our body autonomy from captivation by the male gaze, our concept of safety requires serious reform.
When I became aware of the male gaze at Convocation, it didn’t matter anymore that I had spent weeks getting used to my body to feel comfortable and confident. Regardless of what I was wearing, I felt violated being nonconsensually photographed, but the feeling was especially heightened by our vulnerable presentation. While we can blame the individual for his actions that caused this, we shouldn’t forget that he is part of a society that empowers cis men to feel entitled to our gendered bodies — the same society that fetishizes and objectifies our bodies, especially as my friends and I are women of color whose ethnic and racial identities are synonymous with categories of porn.
Women of color need to be protected at all costs because our identities have been marketed to evoke sexual utility by an industry that makes our bodies readily accessible to anyone on the internet. While we are conditioned to feel vulnerable, men are miseducated to believe that our bodies are objects for them to take, distort and photograph. This is a system imposed upon us that’s designed to work against us. I dare us to unlearn what we have been taught, and see beyond the body to the being.
(Image by Emilia Tamayo, ’23)
