Skip to main content

#MeToo (too many times)


I've had many discussions in recent weeks with people that have had a huge spectrum of feelings and viewpoints about the revelations that women have been harassed, assaulted and raped. And many of these were revealed for the first time by the women, some of incidents that happened more than 20 years ago. For the first time in their lives, the women have said that they chose now to reveal because they felt 'safe' or 'supported'.

 In one recent conversation (just after the Harvey Weinstein/Charlie Rose revelations), I was part of, a man asked "Where's the evidence?",
 to which a woman said, "It's just not fair. I mean these women can say whatever they want and ruin these men's lives."

 I held my tongue.

 Another woman said, "I think they're just looking for their 15 minutes of fame."

 The conversation continued around me, but I couldn't hear what they were saying because my heart was racing and blood coursing loudly. Incredulous, I took deep breaths and prayed for the right moment and the right words. As if on cue, that moment came and I hope the words were right. (I'm going to paraphrase what I said):

 "I have to interject here and let you know that I empathize with these women. One of the reasons the women are speaking out after all these years is because there seems to be a sea-change and it now feels safe to speak out about this. The men's lives may be ruined now, but the women's lives were often ruined years ago and they've had to live with the shame and shattered careers or worse. And I think if women were 'just looking for 15 minutes of fame' there would be easier or safer ways to do that."

 Silence. And I could hardly look them in the eye, but I took another deep breath and pressed on.

 "I am one of those women. I was raped in college, molested at 9 and again at 12. I endured sexual harassment from managers and discrimination in the workplace - even a manager that would grab my breasts and make lewd comments. At my annual review after I'd had a particularly stellar year, I was told that my male co-worker would be getting the top accounts because he had a wife that didn't work and two children, while I didn't have any children and my husband was an attorney."

 I looked around the room, at each face, and said, "I wouldn't have shared this a year ago, because I would have felt scorned and isolated. But now that so many other women are sharing their stories, and so many are similar to what I've endured through my life - I feel the safety of numbers by saying, Me Too. This is they way it was, but light is being shone on those dark days, so it doesn't have to be that way ever again. Not for me, or any woman in this room. Or my daughter or nieces. Or my sons or any man in this room."

 #MeToo, way too many times.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

It's not a popularity contest, but ...

You don't know me . . .

I stopped blogging for awhile. I know some might think that I was being lazy, or overly-involved in some community or school venture or in the middle of some really good books or projects. While all of those are true, that's not the main reason. I stopped because it felt strange to be somewhere and have someone refer to something I wrote. It was like they knew a secret about me (though secrets are not usually published on the Web) that I hadn't shared with them. Though in reality I had shared because I wrote it on the blog.  Truth be told, I don't know who reads this - I have a smattering of followers but a lot more readers. Blogger lets me see how many page views for each posting and I can even tell the referral site. The most I have had for any post was 152 and I've had readers from as far away as New Zealand (thank you Gretchen) and Alaska. Most readers are referred through Facebook. I know that if I were more diligent, I could market the crap out of the blog ...
Post a Comment
Read more

The amazement of children

I am a kid magnet. Especially little ones in strollers, my fellow four-wheelers. They will look at me, then my 'stroller', then back at me. And I waste no time in striking up a discussion with these fellow captives of the four-wheel system that has us at the mercy of whomever may be pushing us around. For those that are verbal, I like to compare our 'strollers'. One such young man, at the March in D.C. pointed out that I had two really big wheels and two really small ones, but his transport's wheels were all the same size and then he counted (it was adorable watching him squirm around in the stroller to look at the wheels behind him!) eight wheels. "Pus," he lisped what I assume was 'plus', "I have a hood." He proudly grabbed the stroller canopy and pulled it forward and backward. Yep, he had a much superior ride and I told him so. Then he said, with not a hint of awkwardness, "You're big for a stroller." His mother was ab...
Post a Comment
Read more

Rolling, Rolling, Rolling

I put my pride aside and got my ass off the grass and into the wheelchair. {I spent a couple minutes deciding whether to put an exclamation mark after that declaration or to put the period after that statement. I think the period better suits my mood about getting said ass into the wheelchair!} On July 4, Saugatuck has a wonderfully unique parade that includes quirky participants like the artsy-fartsy campers at OxBow art colony and the LGBT members of a local foundation along with the more traditional participants like Girl Scouts, fire trucks, and local politicians. It had been a couple years since I had been to the parade, this year, though, my Mom and sister were in town and I wanted to take them. So we loaded up in the van, including Kerri's wheelchair and my own. Once we parked, John asked if I wanted to use my chair and I initially balked but then remembered that it can be a long, hot parade and it might be better to have a place to sit. So, I acquiesced and took the cha...
2 comments
Read more