Hands off, buddy.
The coworker whom my students tell me makes them sit on his lap if they want a pass to the office or restroom. The same man who forwards revolting pornographic images to the male staff members and sometimes all of us.
I have never been raped. For this I am grateful. But I, like far too many women in this country and the world, have had a wide variety of experiences involving sexual harassment.
It doesn’t have to be huge to be harassment. It doesn’t have to involve physical contact, though it can. The myriad ways women are made to feel uncomfortable and threatened is completely ridiculous. And it has to be talked about more — not just the extreme examples, but the small ways that school and work environments are made hostile.
A fellow teacher at the small high school where I worked: “Do these pants make me look like I’ve got a hard on? Right here? See?” Uncomfortable moment, as I’m not really wanting to stare too hard at his groin. But he keeps asking, standing differently, and thrusting.
An unknown student grabs my butt as I walk through a crowded hallway in high school. I don’t turn around, embarrassed, wondering if I’m being made fun of. Every time I’m in that spot again, for the next two years, I walk faster.
The principal at my first teaching job with his frequent stories of underwear-free girls sitting in the front row of classes when he was a teacher. I’ve never heard someone say beaver so frequently in a professional environment.
The lead server at the restaurant where I’m the hostess who comes up behind me, pins my arms down, and pretends it is funny as I try to escape. The terror I feel as he laughs and gropes me, in front of the rest of the staff, churns my stomach.
The community college student in my class who follows me to my car, stays after class to talk each week, and has no personal boundaries. He talks endlessly about wanting a woman like me and takes no hints — at first subtle, then more overt — about creeping me out. I finally have to make sure I am never alone with him, as I worry something will happen.
The coworker whom my students tell me makes them sit on his lap if they want a pass to the office or restroom. The same man who forwards revolting pornographic images to the male staff members and sometimes all of us.
The woman who works in my building and graphically describes anal sex, with and without lubrication, in the elevator and common areas. When I try to avoid her, I am mocked for being squeamish.
Hostile work environment. Those are the key words. If I don’t feel safe because of your words or actions, if I feel sexualized and threatened even in instances where you aren’t saying anything because of past behavior, how the hell am I supposed to do my job?
