“The best protection any woman can have is courage.” – Elizabeth Cady Stanton
1. Initiation
When I was in sixth grade, either God or genetics saw fit to gift me with the most developed body of any girl in the school. I didn’t think much about it, having the mind of a child, but I happened to catch the eye of Bobby, an entitled fifth-grade boy on the playground. He approached me, smirking, pinched one of my breasts, and ran away, laughing with his posse.
I walked home that afternoon, angry, frustrated, violated, and powerless. I spoke of the incident to no one, but the anger in me conceived a plan for his next attempt.
Within a week, he sidled up to me and repeated his action. I, towering above him, pulled my arm back and slapped his fifth-grade face so hard his glasses flew off. He avoided me after that. Honestly, it was one of my best days in sixth grade.
2. Shame
The small Christian college I attended had a lovely wooded campus. On pleasant evenings, I went for a quiet walk along the unlit sidewalk. The security guard, a kind seminary student, usually happened to catch me on his rounds, and we enjoyed a walk together.
Then one of my close friends told me, in detail, of her sexual assault on those same dark grounds. I knew she wasn’t the only one, but not once were we alerted to the danger. The small student body could hardly have kept secret the identity of the victims, and the shame would surely have compounded the pain of violation.
I realized that my security guard friend was quietly protecting me. And I wondered—if the assaulted women had not been taught to bear the shame of sins that were not their own, if we had been made aware of our peril, how many more assaults might have been prevented?
3. Compliance
In my first post-graduation workplace, I assumed I was entering a world of adults. The maturity I expected in my workmates turned out to be fairly non-existent. The Bobbys had gotten older, but not necessarily more mature or respectful. The rules for women had changed though. Off-color comments were ignored, greeted with pleasant laughter, or even met with like-minded comments.
The company hosted monthly dinners for management and sales force. It was a monthly occurrence for me to be “accidentally” groped and regularly propositioned. “He’s just drunk,” I told myself. “He won’t remember this tomorrow.”
When I tired of politely fending off the propositions of a fellow manager, I complained to my boss, explaining what I felt was a violation of my dignity. He sat at his desk, looking out the window as he composed himself, hardly able to contain his laughter, as he promised to “talk” to his employee.
What had happened to that angry sixth-grade girl who so decidedly defended herself?
4. Cognitive dissonance
I had been taught to be “nice” and untaught to follow the impulse that caused young me to slap Bobby’s face.
Somewhere during my socialization process, I learned that men were more important than women, that the worth of a woman was dictated by her body, and that I was responsible for protecting myself while simultaneously guarding the egos of the men I worked with.
I wondered, “If I am an equal, why do I feel like a victim? And why do I have the responsibility to avoid or to politely decline?”
5. Truth, exposed
Like the little boy who exclaimed that the emperor had no clothes, women eventually began to speak, not just to one another, but publicly, about the disrespect they had endured. As their voices gained momentum, what had been “no big deal” became a very big deal. Men lost their jobs, their respect, and ultimately, their power.
And I, fully indoctrinated, looked at some with sympathy. “The rules have changed, guys, and they’re retroactive,” I thought.
6. Deprogramming
Now out of the work force for years, I see the hope for an equality that never before existed. Men and women must learn a new normal: women must learn to demand respect, and men, to give it.
I’m proud of the young me who had the courage to slap Bobby and sorry for her gradual loss of self-esteem. Now, I have seven granddaughters, and I am hopeful for their future.
Marcia Thomas lives in a suburb of Chicago with her husband of 39 years. She has raised four handsome, self-actualizing sons. She has found healing in exploring her story in the presence of others and treasures the opportunities she has to be that presence for others. She is surprised and pleased to find that the glad work of healing does not have a retirement age.
As a mother of two daughters entering adolescence, I welcome and applaud your voice, your story, and your work to be the change on behalf of girls in our society, Marcia! THANK YOU!!!
Thank you for sharing…I too have a similar story. Now as a mother of a daughter and 2 sons I am hopeful for their future too…and it’s not just because I’m raising my daughter in a different world than I was raised, but also that I am raising my SONS to be different too💛
I was the tallest person in sixth grade. I also had the biggest boobs, the skinniest legs, and wore black horn-rimmed glasses. What a combination. The boys were fascinated with my breasts – never touching – but looking. They were embarrassed when caught and turned to ridicule calling me “bird legs” and “four eyes.” A nice, quiet, polite, unassuming little lady learned to defend herself, and the first incidents of shaming stopped. Around the same time, another incident happened; this time with an adult. He didn’t just look. I told my mother, and my face was the one that was slapped when she told me not to mention it again. The adult had told me if I told they would think it was my fault. The slap convinced me he was right. It took years filled with a lot of anger, resentment, guilt before that cat came out of the bag again. Forgiveness came well into adult life, and I can love and be kind to my little self again. Thank you for sharing your story. It dredged up something I rarely think about. I have a daughter and granddaughter, and I take the responsibility for raising them to be filled with self-esteem, self-awareness, self-worth, and courage seriously.
Back in the late 90s, after he accosted me in his office, I filed a sexual harassment complaint against my manager, a beloved, tenured executive. The ensuing investigation revealed another 12 women who had endured abuse at his hands, some of them for years. This manager was terminated, yet my future with this company was over and within the year I lost my job in a “your position has been eliminated” action. I do hold hope that the multitude of issues that contribute to this behavior is s-l-o-w-l-y changing. Thank you for such a thoughtful piece.
Marcia – Like a breath of fresh air, your piece reveals what so many of us have endured as women in a culture that looks the other way far too often when women are used and abused by disrespectful entitled males. Thank you for “slapping” this topic for us with your words. As a grandmother of eight granddaughters my hope is that they will learn to use their words, courage, strength, tenacity, and healthy self-esteems to help foster and create environments of mutual respect. I also hope that our two grandsons will learn that women are to be treated with the utmost respect and never preyed upon. Your powerful words remind us and inspire us to create change for the better. Thank you, once again, for writing.
There is a calling for wise and caring mentors ! Your words are clear … glad you use them for the concern of
our young people in a time such as this.