Today I’m going to ask you to take misandry seriously, because Wesleyan University has a misandry problem. I know it’s a tough ask, but I hope after a laugh with your friends you’ll consider what I have to say, and hopefully bring along a little compassion. Although there are many other significantly more harmful forms of bigotry in American society, change is most realizable at a local level. And while not as serious as other forms of discrimination, misandry is prevalent enough in Wesleyan culture to warrant some discussion. It is common in many progressive spaces, and Wesleyan is no different. And with men making up about 46% of Wesleyan students, I believe there’s good reason to address one of the most accepted forms of bigotry on our campus.

First off, misandry is sexism, discrimination, or bigotry towards men. It’s okay to want to dismantle oppressive systems like the patriarchy, or hate the damage that toxic masculinity causes. But doing so by holding contempt for men is unproductive, and, equally as important, hateful. It forgets that not just men, but also women and non-binary people contribute to and perpetuate the patriarchy. We can’t dismantle the patriarchy if we can’t correctly identify the problem. It also forgets that toxic masculinity hurts men. I oppose toxic masculinity based on my values of egalitarianism, but also from my own selfish desire to not be confined based on my gender.

As a man, Wesleyan University is shrouded in a hostile atmosphere. For me, the prevalence of misandry is undeniable. Men are a statistical minority of students. This means that more often than not, women are the dominant gender in student culture. This means frustrations with men are often expressed through jokes. While the occasional joke from anyone is fine, these jokes eventually compound and add to the misandrist atmosphere of campus. In female-dominated spaces, it feels like almost a certainty that a man doing anything of note is talked about sexistly. It feels nearly impossible to avoid at least one comment when I’m in these spaces. I’ve heard too many variations on “Why would you, as a man, do [action]?” to count. I’m told to carry my friends’ laundry. I’m pressured to wear a certain Halloween costume like I’m an accessory. I’m “just a man.” It’s confining, and I don’t want to be confined by my gender. Many women and non-binary people probably relate to this feeling, because we’ve replicated the culture that confines them on a smaller, less damaging scale at Wesleyan. We’re further normalizing conventions of toxic masculinity that we otherwise criticize.

Although usually expressed through jokes, many people have reasoned arguments in defense of their bigotry towards men. Oftentimes the misandrist jokes are inversions of the sexism women face. It’s meant to point out the ridiculousness and unacceptability of what women go through on a daily basis. But after being heard over and over and over again, they still feel like a reflection of a bias against men. That’s because there’s a lot of animosity towards men that stems from experiencing misogyny and living under the patriarchy. And while I’m sympathetic, those prejudices are still unfair. I should be judged based on my own actions, not on systems put in place centuries before me.

While transgender, gay, and gender-nonconforming men are still recognized as men, from my personal experience they are subject to misandry less often than cisgender, straight men. This is obviously problematic. Your sexual orientation, gender presentation, and transgender status can’t make you any less of a man. While it means these men are probably subject to less misandry, it comes at the cost of a subtle denial of their identity as men.

There’s also the issue of refusing to vocally defend men. For example, there’s been a surge in vocal support for Palestinians recently in response to Israel’s bombing of Palestine to target terrorists. Despite this, many of the Palestinians killed in the bombings have been innocent civilians. Discussions in defense of these Palestinians often focus on “women and children,” with no mention of Palestinian men. It’s as if people think defending Palestinian men is a lost cause. By refusing to acknowledge Palestinian men, we cede the idea that Palestinian men are all terrorists, that their lives aren’t worth defending. There’s a long history of sexism intersecting with race to hurt men of color, and this is no different. You shouldn’t have to fear that your activism will somehow become less compelling because you recognize the humanity of men.

While I’m a firm believer in intersectionality, it’s tiring to be forced to connect men’s issues to other forms of bigotry. Something can’t just be misandrist, it has to be misogynistic, racist, or transphobic to have any serious discussion. In fact, it’s best to ignore when something is misandrist. Bigotry is just ignored if it’s directed towards men, it’s seen as an unserious issue made up by whiny men that can’t take a joke. And while everything I’ve written is something I firmly believe in and am passionate about, it would be nice to be able to criticize misandry without also connecting it to the oppression of women or transgender people. It’s equally draining to dedicate paragraphs to how misandry in Wesleyan obviously isn’t as harmful as other forms of bigotry, something practically everyone agrees on. Having to do so makes talking about these issues much less accessible.

I would also like to make it clear that the misandry problem is not the fault of women, this is the fault of us as a community. It’d be easy to just blame women, but that would be just as sexist and incorrect as some of the misandry I’m writing about. Not all women perpetuate misandry, and men perpetuate misandry fairly often. It’s typically done as a joke, but that doesn’t mean we don’t share accountability.

However, many men probably don’t recognize this culture of bigotry. Whether it be from not particularly caring about unserious sexist comments, to being afraid to speak out, it’s uncommon to hear pushback against misandry. Often, discussions of misandry will be shut down by other men that refuse to recognize its prevalence. As men, we have to advocate for ourselves. We have to recognize how we are treated and show some initiative. Although it’s scary to face judgment for caring about something so seemingly unimportant as sexism toward men, Wesleyan is also full of kind, caring, and smart people. The vast majority of people here are against sexism and bigotry. Standing up for yourself could mean getting laughed at, but just as likely your friends could respond with compassion. Don’t be an ass, but be vocal. Be respectful. Be genuine. Hopefully, it will be returned.

Michael Haybron is a member of the class of 2027 and can be reached at mhaybron@wesleyan.edu.