So have you heard about this #safetytipsforladies hashtag? For those of you who haven't, it's basically a whole bunch of ironic and increasingly absurd "tips" for how not to be raped. For example: "Tell your attacker you're all out of rape and offer him a package of Ramen Noodles instead" and "Most rapes happen inside or outside. Avoid these places". If you haven't already done so, it's worth a bit of your time to go check it out because 1.) they're very funny, and, 2.) they're quite on the nose.

It's profoundly backwards that we spend so much effort in our society telling girls how not to get raped rather than telling boys how not to rape. As writer Zerlina Maxwell told Sean Hannity when she went on his show a few weeks ago:

"I think that the entire conversation is wrong. I don’t want anybody to be telling women anything. I don’t want men to be telling me what to wear and how to act, not to drink. And I don’t, honestly, want you to tell me that I needed a gun in order to prevent my rape. In my case, don’t tell me if I’d only had a gun, I wouldn’t have been raped. Don’t put it on me to prevent the rape."

That the responses to Maxwell's statements included rape threats is telling, if unfortunately not so surprising.

I get why talking about this stuff makes people feel defensive. Most men have never raped anyone, nor will they, and are rightfully horrified by the thought it it. And so it's natural to think of rape as the kind of thing that only crazy, monstrous, aberrant people do. It's easy to look at the boys who were convicted in the Steubenville trial and say "That is not normal behavior. Those boys are terrible people, and it's right that they're going to jail, but they're outliers." But as Maxwell, herself, pointed out in a follow-up piece she wrote: "The young men in Steubenville aren’t monsters.  They did something monstrous and criminal but perhaps we should begin to stop repeating the notion that “criminals” are the ones raping 1 in 5 women."

And the thing is, it's simply not the case that a woman can always prevent her own rape. Because rape happens even to women who are sober, dressed modestly, armed, and in "safe" neighborhoods. Maxwell is absolutely right that stopping rape is something that has to start with teaching boys how to see girls and women as people. Lots of parents already do this, and that's great. If you're such a parent, good on you. Sadly, many aren't.

Now, as you may recall, I'm in the process of investigating my own attitudes and trying to examine if or how I'm sexist. And here's where things become tricky for me. Far be it from me to want to sound like Sean Hannity, but while I don't think that rape is solely the province of obvious monsters and criminals, I do think that no matter how good a job we do at raising our sons and eliminating rape culture, there will always be some rapists, just as there will always be murderers and thieves. And even if at some point in the future we are able to live in a society that doesn't have a pervasive thread of blaming victims and excusing rapists, we don't live in that society now. As a practical matter, it seems like a reasonable thing to both insist that the ultimate responsibility for preventing rape lies with men, while also trying to give my daughter some tools to help recognize and avoid dangerous situations.

Several years ago, when I was on vacation in a foreign country, my rental car was broken into and several bags were stolen, including the ones that held my wife's and my passports. Now, clearly the blame for this crime lay entirely with the criminals who committed it, and that's not mitigated by the fact that we left our bags in the back seat of an unattended car, in full view of anyone who might have walked by. Ever since then, though, I've been careful to only leave things in my car if they are out of sight (in the glove compartment or trunk) or to simply take them with me, and no one has stolen anything out of my car since.

Now, let me be clear: my car getting burglarized is not at all the same thing as rape. It was not even remotely as traumatic, nor did anyone blame me for what happened. And the precautions I now take are both much simpler and far more effective than the kinds of things women are told to do to avoid being raped. It's not the same.

Furthermore, I am doing everything I know how to do to instill in both of my children the values and empathy that would keep them from being thieves or rapists, or any other sort of criminal, for that matter.

I still can't help feeling that it's not enough for me to raise good kids. And that even though preventing rape is not something that ought to be my daughter's responsibility, and that it may not even be possible, and that putting any of that burden on her might be sexist, I can't help but feel like I want to tip the odds as much in her favor as I reasonably can. And if that means telling her not to get falling-down drunk (really, something I would rather neither of my children did, for reasons that have nothing to do with rape), or to keep an eye on her drinks, or not to go out alone at night in sketchy parts of town, I have trouble feeling like that's wrong of me. And, for that matter, I don't know why I wouldn't tell my son the same things.

As a parent, I feel like my job is to teach my children how to be good people, and also to give them the skills to survive in a difficult and dangerous world. Neither is more important than the other, and both are obviously a lot broader than just preventing rape. And I think that it's possible to do these things without being sexist, and without putting the responsibility or blame on victims. But, as always, I may be missing something, so if you can see it, let me know.

"Are you cute?"

"No! I'm handsome!"

"OK, well, in any case, I love you."

"Why do you love me?"

"Why do I love you?"

"Yeah."

"Well, because you're my boy."

"Know why I love myself?"

"Why's that?"

"Because I'm stinky!"

"Because you're stinky?"

"Yeah!"

"OK. Well, can't argue with that."

"I'm so stinky!"

A little context, first. Slate ran an article last week about dress codes. Also, a few days ago, a friend of mine reblogged this Tumblr post, which is, as things are usually defined, NSFW. (Whether or not such images ought to be considered safe for the workplace is a topic for another day.) These two items don't directly relate to one another, but both have to do with the concept of enforced modesty.

In case it is not clear from the title of this post, I do not support enforced modesty.

Here are some things that I believe that ought to be fairly non-controversial from a feminist standpoint:

• A woman is entitled to wear whatever she wants. There is some wiggle here with respect to the legality of public nudity, but at the very least, women ought to be allowed to be as clothed or unclothed as men are allowed to be.
  
• Regardless of what a woman is wearing, it is my obligation to be respectful and treat her like a human being in any and all interactions I have with her, not like a sex object.
• Regardless of what a woman is wearing, my actions are my own responsibility. As a man, I am, frankly, offended by the notion that men are incapable of controlling themselves around an unclothed woman.
  
• No one facet of a person's appearance or behavior can give a complete picture about that person, and it is very easy to be wrong when ascribing motivations to other people. Thus, no solid conclusions can be drawn about the amount of self-respect a particular woman has based solely on the way she dresses.

However, I also know that we live in a society that consistently broadcasts the message that the sole or most important qualities a woman has are her appearance and sexuality. You can see this in the kinds of stories we tell in our mass media. You can see it in the way advertising markets to both men and women. You can see it in the way we talk about our celebrities. You can see it in the kinds of articles that fill major women's magazines.

(For whatever reason, the publisher of Self magazine sent us a free copy last month. Flipping through it, it might as well be called "Your Only Purposes In Life Are to Be Pretty and Attract a Man" magazine. That it's actually called "Self" magazine was deeply troubling to me. I asked Juliette if we could please not keep magazines like that around the house when Eva is old enough to read or recognize what's going on in the pictures.)

Given how pervasive and powerful this message is, I think that most women who dress in certain particular styles are doing so in order to attract a certain type of male attention and, further, that the reason they are trying to attract that male attention is because they feel that beauty and sexuality are their most important qualities. This isn't based on any study that I've read. I don't have any numbers to back this up. It is, if we're being generous, an educated guess.

I'm very ambivalent about what this all means, though. In general, I don't treat a woman differently if she is dressed provocatively. I neither ogle nor chide. But I also don't really approve.

Of course, my approval is neither here nor there for most of the women of the world, and furthermore, I'd be way out of line for me to say anything on the matter. When it comes to my daughter, though, I'm not sure.

I wrote a piece last year about the mental struggle I have with this idea, and in responses online and off, I had women of many different sociopolitical viewpoints tell me that I should quit worrying about it, and that it's OK for me to set standards for both of my kids. Nevertheless, I worry both about the morality of telling a girl what she can wear and the practical effects of paying too much attention to her appearance.

What I've settled on--albeit uncomfortably--is that I will continue to tell my daughter that she's cute and pretty, but that I'll also tell her that she's smart, strong, funny, helpful, kind, honest, or any other adjective that applies. And that I can set reasonable standards for her dress that neither require her to wear a burqa but might, for example, require that her skirts cover her entire bottom, at least until she's an adult--once she goes off to college, if she wants to, say, go to a Pimps 'n Hoes Ball (that is actually a thing) then it'll be up to her to figure out what that means to her. And it'll be on me to make her know that she can make her own choices without changing my opinion of her.

That seems like a perfectly reasonable and non-sexist stance to take, to me. But I still can't help feeling like there's something wrong with a man telling a woman or girl how she can dress.

I've been thinking a lot over the past few days about what it means to be a good man, whether that is something I can legitimately call myself, and who gets to decide.

Juliette thinks I'm being ridiculous. "You're so good," she said to me, "and it's crazy that you're letting this get to you so much."

The "this" that she's referring to is that someone told me over the weekend that I'm sexist. It turned out that this person's opinion of me was based in large part (though perhaps not entirely) on a misunderstanding we'd had several years ago, one which was my fault. I apologized and tried to explain better, and as far as I know we've now reconciled and have agreed to let bygones be bygones. Still, it's been eating at me ever since.

A man protesting that he's not sexist after an accusation of such always sounds to me a lot like my son when we tell him that he's acting like he's tired--no matter how strenuous his objections, it's usually not long before he nods off. He's sincere and honest in his objection, but he just doesn't have the perspective to know. I don't believe that I'm sexist, and I do believe that I'm a good man. I don't know how to prove that to someone who claims I'm not, though, and I suspect that the reason it bothers me so much is because I worry that they're right.

I was raised by a single mother, who is one of the strongest and most hard-working people I've ever known, and who is, more than any other single person, responsible for who I am today. I'm the husband of an amazing and intelligent woman who, among other things, has more academic honors and advanced degrees than I'm likely to ever have. I'm the father of a daughter who I want to grow up to be an empowered and confident woman, who I never want to be kept from accomplishing something because of her gender. I'm also the father of a son who I want to grow up to be a respectful and fair-minded man. It's important to me that I live up to my responsibilities to them all.

I think about sexism a lot, both in the context of society at large and my own behaviors and attitudes. There are a lot of things about the treatment of women about which I am outraged and offended. I know for certain that I am not a pig--that if I am sexist, it is not obvious. But it doesn't have to be obvious. I find that I don't always agree with the conclusions of feminist analyses that I read, or that I come away with more questions than answers. I tell myself that being a man doesn't invalidate my perspective, that it's good to be balanced, that I do not believe in intellectual orthodoxy, or in limiting the rights of people to hold opinions or engage in discussions. But maybe I only think that because, as a man, I'm used to a certain privilege. Maybe I am, underneath a veneer of enlightened manhood, actually the kind of asshole that I want not to be.

So I'd like to take the opportunity to use this space to explore some of my attitudes and beliefs about women, feminism, and sexism. Over the next few weeks or months I'm going to take a look at the subtleties and details, the things that aren't obvious. I'll try to explain my point of view, and ask the questions that I can't resolve for myself. You can feel free to join in via the comments--ask your own questions, give your answers to mine, express your support, or tell me how and why I'm wrong. All I ask is that we keep it civil.

This might be a terrible idea, and I'm more than a little nervous about what I might find out about myself. But I think it's important for me to do this, because I want to be a good man, and if I'm not, I need to know.

In 2012, I shot 2759 frames of personal photography. That is, I kept that many frames--I actually shot a great deal more. Most likely that's too many, and it would probably be wise for me to go back through the year's photos and trim the collection a bit. Before I do that, though, I thought it would be fun to take a quick walk down memory lane with a selection of my favorites from the past year.

As it happened, going through my photo library, I found rather a lot that I loved. I tried to keep the set as concise as possible, but I still ended up with 35 pictures that I adored too much to leave them out. Perhaps my internal editor still needs more discipline, but then, this isn't meant to be the set of my best photos of the year, just of the ones I liked most. Some of these I've posted before, some I haven't. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.

In roughly chronological order:

Eva wants to know where the heck her daily photos have been all week. Don't worry, Eva, we'll be back on track soon enough.

I've made a few more changes to the site layout, mainly in order to better accommodate mobile browsing. (For those of you who are into the design side of things, I've switched from my old static, fixed-width layout to a responsive layout, using the 1140 CSS Grid framework.) If you normally view the site on a large monitor, the differences should be fairly minor, but hopefully things will look better on small monitors and on phones.

As always, let me know if you encounter any problems. There are a few bugs I'm working out with the photo galleries--which are going to undergo a complete overhaul in the near future anyway--but apart from that everything should be working. One note: you may need to refresh your browser in order to properly load the new layout.

"Daddy."

I turn around, not surprised to see Jason standing in the door of our home office. This is about the tenth time he's gotten out of bed--to go to the bathroom (twice), to tell us something, to get a kiss from where he bonked his head, or any other excuse he could think of. At 10:30, it's long since past the time when he should have been asleep.

"You need to go to sleep," I say.

"I can't go to sleep because I'm scared with my music turned off," he says.

"Then turn it back on."

"I don't know how to turn it on."

I stand up and walk him back to his room. "You need to get in your bed and stop getting up," I say. He jumps onto his bed, flopping sideways atop a pile of blankets and stuffed animals.

Flicking on the light, I see that the little CD player on his shelf has been turned off. "Yes, I see that it's off," I say, "and nobody else was in here, so that means you must have done it. That's not OK, Jason." I speak sternly, but not harshly, and I do not raise my voice as I hit the button to restart the CD.

"You're scaring me," he says in a quiet voice.

"What?"

"You're scaring me and you're making me sad."

I just look at him for a second. I know that this is just what he says when he doesn't like what I tell him, that he is not actually scared of me. I know that the tears welling up in his eyes are from frustration, not fear. He doesn't know how much his words cut me.

"I'm sorry, but you need to go to sleep right now."

"I don't know how to go to sleep!" he insists.

"Close your eyes and go to sleep," I say, closing the door.

"I'm sad and I'm not tired!" I hear him shout, and then he begins to wail. I know that he is tired, that he needs to sleep. I know that he will be out in a matter of minutes. I know that I have to say these things to him, that I have to set limits and boundaries, that it is what he really needs. I know that I am being firm but not mean, that I am doing what I am supposed to be doing.

He doesn't know what it means to me when he says I scare him, or that I make him cry. He doesn't know that I have seen men rage and been afraid, or how much it matters to me that I never become a figure of fear to my children, that I never have and never will raise my hand to them in anger.

I don't know how not to feel like a failure when he accuses me. But I know that I do the best I can, and that has to be enough.

Dear Eva,

I wanted to write this to you yesterday, but unfortunately we were a day late getting home from our trip to Maine, so my very first birthday letter to you is belated. You don't know, of course, since you can't read and don't know what a birthday is yet, but my hope is that someday when you're older you'll understand how much I loved you when I wrote this to you, and how much I still do.

Today, the day after your birthday, hasn't been the best day for you--you're still tired from the time change, on top of which you're fussy from getting your shots. But you still squealed with glee when you splashed in the bath, and when we shook our heads at each other in the mirror afterwards, and when I combed your hair, and when I handed you to your mother. You have only six teeth right now, so your smile is perhaps a bit unfinished. But it is beautiful, like everything about you, and all the more so because you're so free with it. I hope you always will be. I wonder if you will.

I wonder a lot of things about you. I wonder what you'll look like when your hair grows out. I wonder what kinds of things you'll be interested in--will you like princesses like the other girls we know, or will you like swords like your brother? Or both, maybe? I wonder what you will talk about when you learn to talk. I wonder what will inspire you to take your first steps.

I sometimes wish I could see the future, to be able to know what our story will be. But none of us get to do that, and maybe it's better that we can't. I'll tell you this, though: before you came, I thought I knew a bit about parenting and babies and childhood, but at every turn you've surprised me, from your sunny disposition to your easy sleeping to the fact that you're a good eater. Getting to know you and getting to be a part of your story so far has been one of the best things in my life, and I can't wait to see what happens next.

I love you, baby girl. Happy birthday.

[Editor's Note: I've pinned this post to the front page for the duration of the sale, but new updates will continue to be posted below.]

For the first time ever, I've decided to hold a print sale. From today through the end of the month I'll be offering the 18 images you see below, so if you've ever thought to yourself "Hey, I really wish I could own a Mike Sakasegawa print," now's your chance. I'm including images from several ongoing series as well as a bunch of singles. (Note: you can click on each image to see a larger version.)

Halo Big Sur, CA 2010 10" x 15" on 12" x 18" sheet	Lake Morena Lake Morena, CA 2010 10" x 12.5" on 12" x 16" sheet	Frog Pond Shutesbury, MA 2010 10" x 12.5" on 12" x 16" sheet
Well Worn Shutesbury, MA 2010 10" x 15" on 12" x 18" sheet	Garden Carmel Valley, CA 2012 10" x 15" on 12" x 18" sheet	Sand La Jolla, CA 2012 10" x 12.5" on 12" x 16" sheet
Sunbeam Big Sur, CA 2012 10" x 15" on 12" x 18" sheet	Into the Blue Again From Series "Quality Time" 2010 10" x 10" on 12" x 12" sheet	Doctor's Office From Series "Quality Time" 2012 10" x 13.3" on 12" x 16" sheet
Just Keep Swimming From Series "Quality Time" 2012 10" x 15" on 12" x 18" sheet	Socks (Jason) From Series "You Were Here" 2011 10" x 15" on 12" x 18" sheet	Sweater (Juliette) From Series "You Were Here" 2012 10" x 15" on 12" x 18" sheet
Untitled Del Mar, CA 2012 10" x 15" on 12" x 18" sheet	Untitled Carmel Valley, CA From Series "It Forgets You" 2011 10" x 15" on 12" x 18" sheet	Cherry Pits 2012 10" x 15" on 12" x 18" sheet
Silver Sorrento Valley, San Diego, CA From Series "Stochasm" 2010 10" x 15" on 12" x 18" sheet	Folding La Jolla, CA From Series "Stochasm" 2012 10" x 15" on 12" x 18" sheet	Bars Big Sur, CA From Series "Stochasm" 2012 10" x 15" on 12" x 18" sheet

The details:

• Prints are digital C-prints, sized as noted above, on Fuji Crystal Archive paper.
• Prints are signed, uneditioned, and unmounted.
• All prints are priced at $60 US.
• Orders that will be shipped to California addresses will have sales tax applied.
• Domestic shipping via UPS is included in the price.
• International shipping is available at additional cost.
• Orders must be paid via PayPal.
• Rather than printing and shipping each order as it comes in, I'll be collecting orders through August 31 and then submitting the entire run to the printer at once. I expect orders will start shipping in the second week of September.

[Ordering info removed.]

Looking forward to hearing from you!