.contributed by Fed Up.
DISCLAIMER: Those pieces contributed to Something.of.Substance do not necessarily reflect the views of the author or of the community. However, they are Substantial to the contributor, adhere to the guidelines and give everyone Something to think about. -S.o.S
I’m angry. I went to bed last night angry and I woke up angry. Angry and hurt. You see, my friends’ pain is my pain, too. Lives are so interconnected and experiences, though different, overlap in nature. Here’s what’s up.
I’m a graduate student. My friend’s adviser has been sexually harassing her and other students for months now. Last spring, after having had enough of hearing and not doing, I insisted that my friend speak to one of our female professors about what was happening. Our professor was horrified, and thus began the department’s half-hearted attempt to deal with a problem that’s apparently been rampant in our department for years. My friend met with the department’s liaison to the graduate school, with the department head, and with others. The liaison to the graduate school said that technically what he did wasn’t sexual harassment since it didn’t involve asking for sexual favors or threats of retaliation if tasks that were sexual in nature were not performed. Apparently, what this man does not know is that sexual harassment takes many forms.
One day several years ago, I worked in a restaurant during the summers in college. I had a boss who would stand an inch away from my face, yelling at me for no reason, and look me up and down. He didn’t do this to male employees. My father said that that, by nature, was sexual harassment. If the boss did something to me that he would never do to a male (because a male would have kicked his ass), then it was differential treatment on the basis of gender, or sex. I’ve used my father’s definition since then to deem whether or not behaviors are appropriate.
Although the specific incidents my friend reported were not overtly sexual, they have since become so. Back in the spring, after finding out that my friend would not press charges, the department said they would talk with this professor after my friend was able to change to another adviser. They were supposed to inform her when they had met with him. They either never informed her or never met with him, because he’s still up to his antics. This man teaches future teachers, and he makes jokes about having them perform sexual favors. This is unacceptable. Having seen that nothing was accomplished the first time she spoke up, my friend is no longer willing to trust the department by speaking up again and hoping they’ll do something.
I’ve been crying for her and for me too. I’ve been crying for all of the women who have been taken advantage of or hurt. I cry for myself, who never reported that I was raped, because my friends said it was better to move on and that your boyfriend can’t rape you. I knew something was wrong and that it wasn’t OK, but figured it was best to just let it go. I’m not letting anything go any longer. I’m not going to be the friend who sits there and says the problem is all in your head.
Not speaking up for my friend is not speaking up for all of the women who are affected by harassment or assault. Not speaking up for my friend is saying that it’s OK to treat women differently and to have them pack your condo for you when you move even though it’s against the graduate school rules about what students can do for their advisers. Not speaking up for my friend is condoning her adviser’s insistence that another female student unpack the boxes from his bedroom. Not speaking up for my friend is saying that it’s fine for her and other female students to have to listen to this man’s stories about his experiences in Thai massage parlors during meetings in an academic setting. Not speaking up for my friend lets him know that other women, including his wife who divorced him recently, are crazy and he’s not the problem.
He is the problem. HE is the problem. I’m not taking it. While my friend has lost her faith in the process of justice, I have not. I’m encouraging her to reconsider. Giving up is giving in, and there’s no way I’ll do that again.
I am a tenured feminist female professor. If a student came with this issue to me, my first instinct would be to toss that hot potato to someone else. And then I’d dig my heels in and see what I could do for the student.
The point is that if even I would at first want to shy away from this, other women professors would too. It might be best for women students — everywhere — to consider who might be the best advocate in their school should this happen to them or someone they know.
If you come to me, I’ll do what I can. But other women might not be as willing to lay it on the line even if they understand what is at stake. Perhaps I should amend that to especially if they understand who is at stake.
I will try in the next few days to ask around at my university and pose this as a hypothetical question. Clearly, it’s not one that is trivial. Off the cuff, I would say your friend needs an advocate who is somewhat insulated from backlash. Is there an ombudsperson? A minority students’ office? Who at your institution can advocate without fear of reprisal?
Today I went to my adviser who is a dean in the university. She was livid and is willing to advocate on behalf of my friend. I’m feeling better about this, although I wish my friend felt more comfortable to see this through. I hate that that bastard has control over her and has instilled a sense of fear.
We women have to stick up for each other, because the Old Boys’ Network hasn’t been disbanded by any means. Hopefully he will be punished appropriately… he’s a cancer to our college. I am pretty darn sure that my adviser is well insulated from backlash. I guess I need to see what happens from here before breathing a sigh of relief, though. I’d be interested to hear more about what you and your colleagues think.
I’ll see what I can find out.
Please let me know what happens with your friend? It’s hard enough being a grad student without that kind of crap.