Something happened to me yesterday.
It wasn’t a “big deal”, but it happened.
And, because it wasn’t a “big deal”, I tried to push it out of my mind. I had things to do, right? Just keep going with life.
But the thing is, it is almost 24 hours later and I am still thinking about it. The sun is shining, it is a gorgeous day, and instead of being outside drinking it all in, I am inside, writing it all down. Sometimes writing things down is a way of sharing them with others. Sometimes writing things down is a way of doing a “brain dump” and getting them out of my head so that I can focus on other things. This piece is BOTH – sharing, and dumping.
If you are male, you might not understand. The whole #MeToo thing seems ages ago now, doesn’t it? That’s all finished, fixed, right?
No.
Seemingly “little” things happen daily in the lives of women. They happen so often that sometimes we don’t even notice them. The gaze as we cross the street. The smile that is not a smile of “hello” but a smile of “hey baby” (and YES, there is a difference).
But yesterday – he made sure I noticed.
I was at the local post office. It was crowded (masked and distanced, but a lot of people). I needed a special form and couldn’t find it, so I asked the old man who is sometimes assigned to work in the lobby where the forms were. He was chatting up another (female) customer, and told me where I could find the form. I found it and stood in the outer lobby to complete it before getting in line. As I wrote, he stood nearby. When I finished, he came up closer to me and said in a low voice but NOT a whisper, “Don’t forget to give me your phone number”.
I was taken aback. Rarely are acts of aggression that public and egregious.
Now, how we react depends on many factors. A major one is what was instilled in us growing up. What I was taught growing up in the homogenously white Midwest was – we respect our elders. We don’t cause a scene. We are polite.
And in that moment at the post office, that is the conditioning that kicked in. I don’t think I CHOSE to ignore him, because in my mind there were no choices, ignore him I must. So, I kept my gaze straight ahead and stood in line.
But, see, that wasn’t enough for him. Because he KNEW ME – he knew my type. He knew he was safe. So, he leaned in again and said in a low but not whispered voice, “Did you hear me??”.
His words demanded a response.
In hindsight there were many responses I could’ve given. “YES, YOU DISGUSTING OLD MAN, I HEARD YOU AND I AM NOT GIVING YOU MY PHONE NUMBER!” said loudly enough for the other patrons and mail clerks to hear jumps out now as a good choice. But, being the polite “little girl” that I am, I simply mumbled a, “Yes, I heard you,” under my mask.
Most men who commit “little acts”, like this man, know they are safe. They are willing to do them in broad daylight, in the most public of places. And they know they have the “hysterical female” excuse to fall back on. “Damn, the girl is so SENSITIVE! Anyone would know I was JOKING when I said that….”.
I share this story just to remind you of what women go through each and every day. Microaggression after microaggression piled onto the heap. No, I was not raped yesterday. Yes, I was in a “safe place”. But because of my conditioning, I did not “fight back”. I didn’t report him. And so, he will continue the behavior. And I will continue to look over my shoulder and keep my guard up – even at the POST OFFICE.
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