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Tag Archives: cultural insanity

I didn’t “let you do anything,” sir (a declaration)

I am one of the many women you brushed up against in line. One whose waist felt your arm slither around and hold a bit too closely as you helped me into a vehicle. A female whose body you leaned into for a hug instead of a handshake, pressing your hand into my back so that my chest came into harder contact with yours. Those are my legs you ogled in a meeting because I dared to wear a pencil skirt. It’s my laugh you heard when you told me the racy joke. My big brown eyes that looked away over a lip-sticked smile when you made the flirtatious suggestion.

None of what you did was wanted.

None of it appreciated or invited.

But, like the Republican presidential candidate, I’m sure you believed one of two things: (1) she’s giving me cues that she wants this or (2) I can do this because I’m me and she’s her.

And did I kick up about it? Did I slap your face? Go to HR? Write a blog post, even? No. So that must mean I wanted it, right? Must mean I enjoyed it? Must mean you’re allowed to be this way.

No. Here’s what really happened:

You stared at my legs. I asked myself why I didn’t put on the slacks because I knew I had a meeting with men today. Then I berated myself for the idea of changing a completely acceptable wardrobe just because you can’t focus on business in a business meeting. Then I thought about moving to another seat, one that wouldn’t give you such a good view of my knees. Then I berated myself again for thinking of how to accommodate your ridiculous actions and how un-Sheryl Sandberg that is of me. Then I thought about just taking the bull by the horns and interrupting the entire meeting to say, “If you could stop staring at my legs, I’d appreciate it,” but then all the other men in the room would either think I was an ice queen or suddenly also become aware of my legs and the other women would withdraw from me, grateful it wasn’t them but eager to not be put in the ice queen territory, too. And then I needed to stop allowing myself to care that you were ogling me because I had valid contributions to make to this meeting that would be helpful to the project, so I turned away and worked.

Or let’s talk about how you do business hugs instead of handshakes – only with the women, of course, because you’re “a hugger.” So, you throw your big arm around my shoulders and pull me in, pressing my breasts against your chest and holding me there until you’ve gotten your fill, talking the whole time about how good it is to see me and how you’re looking forward to being a part of this project, blah blah. Since I didn’t slap your face, I must have “let” you, right?

“…they let you do it,” Trump told Billy Bush. “You can do anything.”

While you were busy getting your cheap feel, here’s what I was thinking: If I say something right here, right now, will I lose my job? Will this project go south if I embarrass him and he quits? He matters more to this than me because he’s the one with the money/prestige. If he leaves, his funding leaves, too and then we’re back to square one on this. Does it really matter if he feels my breasts for a few seconds if, in the end, we get the project done and it makes a positive difference in the world? My comfort level isn’t as important as getting the job done. This is just part of it. Part of working in a male-dominated industry. You don’t want to be “that” woman who can’t work with men and get along or you’re done in this industry, Rebeca. Be a grown-up. Smile. Overlook it. Stay focused on the mission. Laugh.

I did.

I smiled. I laughed.

You took that as acceptance and possibly even encouragement.

It’s no wonder you are confused by the female outrage over that Trump video. You’ve been hugging and ogling for years and you know dang well that women are fine with it because none of them has ever objected and most of the time we smile and laugh right along with you, right?

Let me clear things up here.

I fake smile and fake laugh so I can do my job.

I fake smile and fake laugh so that I can be effective in my role.

I fake smile and fake laugh so that I don’t get fired.

I fake smile and fake laugh so that I have relationship capital.

I fake smile and fake laugh so that you’ll keep working on the task.

I fake smile and fake laugh so that I don’t slap you.

I fake smile and fake laugh so that I can be a team player.

I fake smile and fake laugh so that the situation will end and I can get back to business.

I fake smile and fake laugh.

And you see and hear acceptance, even invitation.

 

If Donald Trump becomes president, your belief system on this will be exemplified by the leader of the free world. Suddenly, the sexual innuendo, flirting, hugs, touches, and ogling will be even more acceptable because, hey, that’s how the president gets things done and it worked for him, right? Married to a topless model, living in the White House, millions in the bank – the guy is the epitome of Man of the World and what man doesn’t want to be that?

So I wanted to be clear right here, today. Make a declaration, even.

You touch me, you flirt with me, you treat me as a sexual being that you are entitled to access, you’re getting called out on it. It shouldn’t require me to sacrifice my career, but that’s a length to which I will go now. Why now? Because the threat level has risen with every defense of Trump’s behavior that I have read on Facebook and Twitter or listened to on the radio or watched on television since that video came out.

I don’t walk in a room and stare at your penis. I don’t crack jokes about its size or call it by derogatory names because I’m not thinking about it at all. I don’t picture how you would be in bed. I don’t try to determine if you want me. I do not even care that you are capable of sex. I’m not interested. At all. Ever. Even a little bit. No, not even that much. The door is closed. There is no crack in it. No window for you to climb through.

Your sexual nature is not wanted.

Not even if you’re famous.

Not even if you’re rich.

Not even if you’re the Republican party’s nominee for President of the United States.

You want to work together like two adults who are talented, intelligent, resourceful, and can get the job done? Bring it. Let’s do this thing. I am all over that like white on rice. You wanna joke and kid while we work? Absolutely. I love a fun workplace. You wanna explore ideas and brainstorm about how we can do this job better, how we can enrich the culture of this country with the stories we bring them? Holy heaven and hottest hell, yes, I am down for that.

But check the rest of it at the door. I’m not going to quit genuinely smiling just because you walk in the room and mistake it for sexual invitation. I’m not going to quit genuinely laughing because you find it sexually attractive. I like to smile. I like to laugh. That’s for me, not you. That’s me enjoying the amazing life I get to lead and the adventurous career I have – it isn’t an invitation for you to be a part of it in any way but a colleague.

Thanks for letting me set the record straight here. Whew, I feel lighter already, knowing I won’t have to have those internal debates anymore.

Now, let’s get to work.

 

 

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The Hillary Outcome: Use Your Words

 

Setting aside that a female will finally be in the White House (YAY! – not that I’m thrilled Hillary is the standard bearer), I’ve at last put my finger on what I dread about four years of a Clinton presidency. And, in naming it, I’ve realized it’s not altogether a bad thing.

Photo credit: HillaryClinton.com

Photo credit: HillaryClinton.com

The entire nation will be forced to pay attention to word choice again. Remember the hours that were given to debating the meaning of the word “is” when the Clinton/Lewinsky stuff went down? It’s already starting with Hilary. Every time she has referred to herself as the “first female presidential nominee” she has been careful to include the phrase “from a major party” as well. That makes it true. Those who ignore the tacked on phrase raise all kinds of hullabaloo on social media about how this is yet another lie from Hillary. But, well, it isn’t – not the way she said it.

And this is how it’s going to be for four more years. She’s going to say something. Everyone will lose their minds talking about how it isn’t true. Everyone else will scream back the exact words she said and how they are, indeed, true. And no one will come any closer to speaking about and working on things that matter.

We’re going to spend four years dickering over semantics.

Four years.

Discussing word choice.

Parsing terms.

I’m a word lover, which makes the coming reality a not entirely bad scenario. I’m thrilled we will pay attention to our language and (hopefully) say what we mean or (at the very least) realize that SHE said exactly what she meant.

But I’m sad that we’re going to lose sight (if we ever had it) of poverty, income disparity, racial tensions, sexual harassment in the workplace, terrorism, human trafficking, hunger, and other serious issues rampant in our nation. That will be the loss of the Clinton presidency: ability to have a truly national conversation regarding situations that matter.

And that leaves me sad because one thing women in the workplace are known for is an ability to get everybody to the table, talking, working together despite differences.

How ironic that the first female presidential nominee from a major party lacks the one characteristic necessary to govern modern-day America.

 
 

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How Do We Respond to Confederate Flag Fighting and Other Brouhaha?

Okay, y’all, this flag debate has gotten past a momentary foolish distraction from a very real tragedy to dangerous levels of cultural cleansing of an entire people. Apple, Sears, Wal-mart…the rebel flag is even being removed from the car made famous in “Dukes of Hazzard”, the General Lee!

Girl with a laptop on the table

Is anybody else feeling as scared and undone and confused and exhausted as I am? Anybody spending way too much time in mental debate about whether to post something on FB or just let it go?

Ignorance is ruling the day because, in our media-obsessed culture, the loudest voice is granted “truth” status. Bandwagons increase exponentially when just enough lemmings hop on. Tipping points come early if the speaker knows algorithm tricks. The illusion of “rightness” is granted when the “views” or “comments” or “likes” numbers go up … which creates truth by perceived public opinion.

Seriously. Think about that. We’re determining truth about history – hard facts – by how many people agree with them.

We’re determining truth by people.

People who we truly love, but who don’t believe this if we disagree with them. On anything. Agh! So frustrating!

Consider yourself for just a second. Do you know everything about everything? (Me, neither.) Have an eternal view of existence so that all your judgment calls have proper perspective? (Don’t I wish.) Know what’s coming tomorrow, next week, next year, two generations from now? (If I did, this blog would be $2.99/minute to read.)

And yet we’re relying on each other to decide who gets a presence in the public square and who doesn’t? To “officially” determine what happened in history and why? We’re okay that opinions, screamed and repeated enough, become the “true” story of an entire people?

Are you kidding me?!

We don’t do this here. This is America, where we lay down our lives for the right of our fellow citizen to voice an opinion we do not agree with. An opinion we may even hate. Here, the standard is to talk and listen. We are not a country that silences with force those with whom we disagree.

Or, we weren’t a few days ago.

But there is comfort and it is this: Real Truth, lived one life at a time, one day at a time, one relationship at a time, speaks for itself. It cannot be silenced.

Truth, lived, cannot be silenced.

I’m not a consistent living example of it – only Jesus can claim that – but I am a consistent believer in it and a consistent get-back-up-and-try-again walker in it. And I truly believe that this is more powerful than screaming back at an angry mob.

So, I’m going to follow a quote I put on Facebook just a couple of weeks ago before the current cultural chaos began:

“There’s no spirituality in opposing a fool. We need only spend enough time on the matter to discern that [the individual]…is a fool and then get on with what God is doing.” (Eugene Peterson, Leap Over A Wall)

I’m putting the screamers in my rearview and continuing to be about what I’m about.

Acting justly.

Loving mercy.

And doing my dead-level best to walk humbly with my God.

I’m supposed to ask you at this point to “share” this or comment on it or link back to it on your own blog if you agree or have a reaction. That’s what I teach to writers, so they can amass a tribe and be able to get their viewpoint into the world. Put an ask at the end of your post. Because that’s the way of the world in which you’ve been placed. It’s being wise as a serpent yet innocent as a dove.

But I don’t want you to share or like or comment or link this post to get people to agree with me or you so that it’ll appear we have the loudest voice.

I only write this today because I needed to give myself permission to let the swirling arguments alone in favor of living in the real world. I needed to say out loud that my silence online isn’t a reflection that I don’t care about what happened to my believing brothers and sisters in Charleston.

I care too much to do anything but keep living.

And I thought maybe somebody else might need permission, too.

 

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