#metoo

Ever since the recent Hollywood headlines, there has been a Facebook movement called #metoo.  If a woman has been the victim of sexual assault or sexual harrassment, the idea is that one puts the hash tag and words in a status.  My feed is flooded with #metoo by friends coworkers, acquantances and those who I know only via the connections afforded by the internet. The volume of it astounds me.

I too, could place #metoo in a status.  When I was very newly hired by a property management company my equally new boss decided one of my jobs was to take residents down to the basement to access their storage bins.  I was 19 and eager to impress.  I never thought twice about this.  I didn't even think much about the fact that after a while the same GI kept coming to access his storage.  The military folks that lived there back then always had a ton of stuff in storage. They would need to get gear out for when they were going off on a tour etc.  At any rate, my real hash tag should have been color me clueless as I saw no red flags.  Til the day he slammed me up against one of the walls and started kissing me and groping me.

I studied martial arts and had a very instinctive and effective response.  He backed off, feeling very uncomfortable.  I said for him to keep his hands and everything else to himself.  And I was okay with that.  I would be lying if I said I was afraid. during the incident. Startled, yes, and very angry.   I reacted almost without thinking and never felt like I was overpowered. But I remember being furious because the man was married with two young children and what was he doing all over me with that at home?

No, my fear came when I knew I had to tell my boss that I did not want to be alone in the basement any longer.  I was smart enough to realize that what happened once, could obviously happen again. My fear was that I would be seen as a "lesser" employee.  "Gee, can't even send her to storage, have to send a GUY."  My boss to his credit didn't say any of those things.  There was a distinctly awkward feeling to the whole conversation though and for a long time, I was sure that I had damaged my budding career by even mentioning what had happened. In retrospect, for all I know, he might have been inwardly freaking out about what *could* have happened in storage.  Or, as I feared he might have been blaming me, assuming I was sending out sensual signals while I stood in the drafty storage room.

Which brings me to why this movement is important to me.  As women we hide things.  We don't share things that can make us appear diminished or less capable. But we also don't always support those who are brave enough to come forward.  I have heard women I love say "sure, it happened to me too. It was a long time ago.  It is time to move on."  Words that are not that easy for everyone because every situation is so very different.

I have also read women I love and respect speak of the things they do automatically to ensure their safety, checking where they park, making sure their keys are out, being aware of their surroundings.  I do these things as well, but always allayed it to my many years of studying karate . . . until one of my friends pointed out that in most cases male martial artists would not survey the surroundings in this manner every time they go out.

This does not mean i am cowering in fear anywhere.  In fact, I need to write a post soon about an incident that happened on the way home from church at some point soon.  I don't hold back from involving myself if I see someone who needs help.  But I also try to keep myself safe.  It's all about balance and I guess as women we walk that tightrope an awful lot.

Mostly, this campaign has made me realize that this is NOT the world I want for my daughters.  I don't want a flood of me toos.  I want a world where they are safe to be themselves, to walk in normal places without being afraid of undue attention, to know that workplaces can and should be safe for all. And if any of my kids are non hetero this all goes double as I know from sad statistics that things are even worse then. And if the world is not kind, and the gods are harsh, and my kids someday need to write #metoo, I hope that they will be enfolded, loved and given an opportunity to heal.