In Part 1, I presented a spectrum of male behaviors and attitudes, from violently misogynistic to safe ally. Next it is time to think about how we – as women, male allies, and society – can help men move up that scale to become increasingly safer for women. The strategies will differ depending on where a man starts out. However, using current research about change theory, we can find some concrete strategies to help us start to make progress.
The Research
Social scientists have conducted many studies about persuasion and social change, and I encourage everyone to follow these research trends. For this piece, I will focus on a few simple ideas about what works. I’m gearing this advice mainly toward men who want to become safer and to help other men become safer, but some of it applies to women as well. It also applies to religious communities – if they prioritize this issue, the men who attend will learn to be safer.
Last week while responding to a comment on my blog, I suddenly remembered a series of incidents in which men I did not know exposed themselves to me in public places. The first time occurred at a park around dusk during an outing with a group of girls. I was about 11, I may have wandered away from the group, or I may have been with others. What I remember is seeing a man with his pants down sitting on a park bench, possibly the first time I ever saw an adult man’s penis. I told or we told, but the man was not reported by the adults. Fast forward to the beautiful gardens of the Palace Schoenbrunn in Vienna where I was confronted by a penis while lost in thought when I was 19. I ran, but said nothing. In my 20s at the early showing of movies in New York City men would sit next to me and jerk off into paper bags. 
Some of the most brutal weapons ever used against me were crafted and wielded by my own hands, forged in grief and self-loathing out of the words of others. In my better moments, I recognize that while another’s frustration with me frequently may be justified, any cruel words towards me never are, and are more a reflection of their speakers’ relationship with themselves than of any facts about me.
I was at a dinner party for twelve lovingly prepared by two ex-pat friends, when the subject of Woody Allen’s most recent film came up. I don’t remember which one of them it was, because, as I said at the time, “I vowed never to see a Woody Allen film again as my response to the way he treats women in his films and in his personal life.” I was immediately challenged by–it seemed to me at the time–everyone else at the table.
“You need to take a step back. You need to take a pause, relax, reassess. Two steps back, you can see more clearly, then you can move forward.” That’s 
