Sexual Harassment - Not Time to Back Off

In the past few weeks I have heard remarks from other women related to sexual harassment that deeply concern me. Each time the speaker somewhat jokingly, somewhat flippantly, commented on how they had better not do some particular action, lest they be accused of sexual harassment. In light of the upsurge in sexual harassment allegations and revelations, I would appreciate the concern around the issue, except that the comments were expressed in such a tone as to make light of the issue. They gave the impression that they found the whole thing overblown to the point of being ridiculous.

I do not understand how any woman could find this issue overblown. I see the growing pushback against the charges raised against powerful men as a serious threat to the limited progress made in addressing a grave issue. For women to make light of the problem undermines the effort to hold men (and, in fewer but equally important cases, women) accountable for their actions. How many women have so thoroughly imbibed the kool-aid of male power and privilege that they will side with the accused rather than supporting the credibility of the accusers? I certainly think there must be a process to assess and evaluate the charges raised. Unfortunately, we cannot count on the courts or systems of arbitration to act without bias, because the history of our society is one of silencing and discounting the voices of women. (A history that extends well before our country was formed.) The simple fact is that, when placed side-by-side, our culture will give more weight to the voice of a man than a woman. The playing field is not level.

The power in this dynamic between the harasser and the harassed lies primarily with the harasser, particular when that person is male, as is the case in the majority of incidences. The system works to silence the voice of the accuser in order to protect the status quo, which means to protect the power and privilege of men. Sara Ahmed, in her excellent book Living a Feminist Life, reminds us:

“Sexual harassment works—as does bullying more generally—by increasing the costs of fighting against something, making it easier to accept something than to struggle against something, even if that acceptance is itself the site of your own diminishment.” (141)

When a woman makes light of sexual harassment issues, she chooses to accept the status quo and, in consequence, contributes not only to her own diminishment, but to the continued diminishment and silencing of women across the board.

This is not an easy problem to solve, because the solution lies in a fundamental transformation in how people view and treat one another. More specifically, it involves a radical transformation in how men perceive and treat women. In the contexts in which the comments referenced above were made, the concern was whether what many would consider an innocuous gesture would be classified as sexual harassment. As I think of the question, my response would be that it depends on the context and the power dynamic, and would be integrally related to the issue of consent. In my work environment, or in any other environment in which I am interacting, an unsolicited touch or embrace from a man would be unwelcome. At the very least, I would prefer that he ask me if he could offer a hug, or other physical contact. Casually touching me would be most unwelcome and I would consider it inappropriate and harassing.

At the same time, I would respond differently were the individual a woman. In general, I am open to the type of physical contact women most often share in their interactions: a hug, or a gentle touch on the arm or shoulder. I can see how, in certain contexts, this too could be harassment. Context is vital, as is an awareness of the relational dynamic (including the power differential at play in the environment.)

I have had to become more aware and sensitive of my own behavior in this regard. I am, by nature, very physical. I like to give and receive hugs and always have. I express my interest, care and concern with a hug or a light touch on the shoulder or arm, and do not mind when other women do the same with me. For me, it establishes a connection. When I was in college, I used to give hugs to everyone I knew when I would run into them on campus (and it was a small campus, so you frequently ran into your friends.) Looking back on that, I realize that I was not being sensitive to whether the other people welcomed my hugs. I rather forced them upon people. I understand know that this was inappropriate of me and am ashamed of my past behavior. Now, when I want to offer a hug, I will ask or in some way indicate that I would like to offer a hug, and wait to see whether it is welcome. With my closest friends, I don’t always do this because we have established the connection that says this is, or isn’t, welcome. I know, for example, that one of my coworkers does not like being hugged and I have trained myself to respect that boundary. I cannot be offended when my offer of an embrace is declined. Some of my friends welcome them sometimes but not always. Other friends freely welcome and offer them in return. Each individual is different and respect for each person requires me to honor our mutual boundaries.

Which brings me back to the topic of sexual harassment. The painful truth is that too many men (specifically) do not recognize or honor the boundaries women establish. They act as though they have the right to treat women as they please and that women should consider themselves honored to receive their attention. The power and prerogative rests with the men. This must change. We, as women, can push for change by refusing to remain silent in the face of harassment. We can support one another in voicing our stories. We can demand justice, and even more we can demand that men change how they perceive and treat us. Because all the laws in the world won’t mean much until men actually begin to see us as fully human, fully equal and fully worthy of the same respect and dignity they demand for themselves. We women cannot afford to uphold the status quo by silencing the voices of other women, or by making light of sexual harassment as a serious issue. Our voices are just beginning to be heard. It’s not time to quiet them. It’s time to get louder still. 

Finding My Way to Hope

Sometimes it feels like the picture can’t get any bleaker. I think in particular of the shit show that is our national (and state!) political situation, with elected representatives disregarding the interests of the majority of their constituents and the needs of the poorest, most marginalized members of our society. At times like these, hope begins to fade.

Christmas, or more inclusively the winter holiday season, has always resonated for me with the message of hope. The last couple winters I didn’t feel much hope and even less joy. This year, despite the pervasive gloom in society, I am finding my way back to hope. I no longer locate that hope in the person of a baby ostensibly born on Christmas night. I find it in the hearts of the many amazing people in my life; in the friends who have supported and cared for me over the past couple years of my journey; in the people I know in my community who refuse to concede to the voices of hatred and discrimination. I see it in the lives of those who pour out their time and energy to make the world a better place for others. I don’t look outside of this world to save it. I look at what we bring, at what we can – and must – do, if we want a world in which peace and justice prevail.

I am grateful that my life is filled with ambassadors of hope. We are not unaware of the obstacles confronting us. We recognize that we face a relentless struggle. Yet we do not give in to despair – though it tempts us strongly at times. I’m realistic enough to acknowledge the darkness that seems to deepen all around. I’m pessimistic enough to wonder at times whether the struggle is worth it. But I remain optimistic enough to believe that the goodness I see around me can and will prevail, though it may do so at great cost. I hold on to hope. As we were reminded in last year’s blockbuster film Rogue One: Rebellions are built on hope.

This week two buds of hope blossomed in my personal garden. The first snuck up on me unexpectedly one evening this week, when I felt the inclination to play holiday music for the first time in two years. I pulled up one of my favorite holiday albums and let the music wash over me. In the days since then I have found myself adding other albums to my playlist and letting it accompany me as I go about my daily tasks. This is a small, but very significant step for me.

The second bud blossomed yesterday, nourished by the same spirit of hope that renewed my desire to enjoy seasonal music. I began the day by hanging holiday lights around my carport, and finished the evening hanging lights in my living room and kitchen with the help of a dear friend. I love the way it brightens the dark nights of December. Even if they aren’t as dark in Southern Arizona as they were in Northern Russia, I love the symbolism and significance of lights shining in the darkness. Now as much as any time in my life, I need that symbol.

I’m still reshaping and reowning what these holidays mean for me. I’m still not entirely comfortable with tying it all to Christmas, with the strong religious association that has for me. I may well adopt the Festivus label for my holiday! I’m only beginning to recreate what this holiday season looks like and means to me. I am glad that I can take the first steps to reclaim it this year, embracing the message of hope and the symbolism of light shining in the darkness. We are that light. As the christian bible reminds us: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”