(
lavendertook Aug. 30th, 2006 02:15 am)
Last Friday evening, I was sexually harassed--it could be called a minor level of sexual assault--in the Dollar Store of all places, for fucks sake, and I put the fucker in his place.
I went to the Dollar Store Friday evening to get a bunch of strands of silk flowers for my town LGBT group's float in Greenbelt's Labor Day Parade, and continued hunting and gathering household items, always a relaxing activity for me. A tall guy in a scarlet red muscle shirt, kept turning up, examining things right next to me, reeeeeal close, as general American standards for personal space go, three times or so--as if you can't see a long expanse of bright red hovering beside you in your peripheral vision. I felt preyed upon, wary, and alert--not a fun kind of feeling when I was all about the chilling.
About the fourth pass, after hovering, he brushed past my side. OK, this was escalating--I wasn't just being paranoid--"I'm pretty sure I'm not being paranoid," was my thought, because you never can be one hundred percent certain with these stealth tactics. The next pass, his hand just happened to brush my butt. Not a grab, so you could be 100% certain, but I could bet the next time would be.
I snapped at his retreating back, "Don't touch me again!" and he turned as I glared at him. "I didn't do anything! Geez!" he shot back (feebly) with a taken aback look, and I hope that 1% doubt flooding me as I evaluated his response didn't show as I continued to glare at him angrily, and he muttered and stalked off.
I was in there a bit longer, finishing browsing the isles and he didn't cross my path again, and I figured he was gone--until I was standing in the checkout line and I saw him stalk out of the store, nothing in his hands. You don't spend that amount of time in a Dollar Store and walk out with nothing ever unless it wasn't the things on the shelf you were hunting for. Fucking predator. Fucking being evaluated as a thing. I was not wrong, and, intellectually, I know that 100%, due to that final piece of evidence of his empty hands, but the 1% doubt never leaves. That's what they count on. And that's what they usually capitalize on. For the ones of us who gain the sureness to tell them off, there are 5 more they can count on never speaking out.
I wonder how many other women he stalked during that time, as well. For that I am sorry I didn't feel the sureness to go to the clerk and tell her to be on the look out for him (probably not effective with a tired clerk toward the end of the day) or made a sweep to make sure he still wasn't in there bothering others. I would have had to have been up to at least a verbally abusive response if I did make him know he was being watched.
I did wind up feeling empowered by this incident instead of diminished, because I did trust my instincts and told him off, mildly in words, but I know my tone and glare got the "fuck off, you bastard!" idea across--it is good to release anger at deserving parties. This was a making-up for all those times when I was younger and was more choice prey, and just couldn't be sure of my perceptions, and didn't want to take the chance of accusing an innocent man. The thing that gets me is it's taken me 40 years to be able to respond like this. That's a lot of storing up negativity from the bullying of others not properly dispensed with--more women than not have this to deal with.
I'm not a shrinking violet--I did build up the fighter in me through my 20's to balance a timid childhood, and was early on able to fend off clear sexual harassment, but the much more prevalent stealth kind, no, it's taken me this long. But I've gotten here both from building up trust in my perceptions, that sneaky predators like this helped undermine, and the constant reminder from other women telling their experiences--a shout out to
fancymcsnazsnaz--and keeping the topic in the spotlight like my vigilant friend
ginmar, and all my other feminist friends, here on LJ and off--thank you all--couldn't have come to this place on my own, and you were all there with me in my glare. (-:
And now onto World Con, and Harlan Ellison sexually harassing Connie Willis and
rachelmanija
And I'm telling my Friday's incident upon hearing about this Saturday night harassment account now, because WTF! Harlan Ellison! You goddamned misogynist bastard!!! Groping the wonderful, brilliant, and gracious Connie Willis on stage (I've talked with her on a couple of occasions--she's a total sweetheart) and trying to diminish another woman writer here as well? No, its not funny, no it's not little, yes, it is a diminishment of a woman's sense of safety in her own body that men impose on women that reverberates far past the women you individually prey upon (don't give me counter examples of gender reversal--they do happen--they are not systemic and under gird with normative ideology), and you owe big time.
Even if your apology wasn't smarmy and you penned a genuine one, it would not be adequate. Amends are necessary. Not just to the particular powerful women you used your position of power to attempt to diminish, but for contributing to a widespread pattern of sexist oppression--way to go for a supposedly progressive dude! The power dynamics that you have abused sets this world's apart from your well-known crank stunts.
You've got a podium. Educate yourself on sexual harrassment and use that podium to write about it and raise awareness. Make sure little fanboys who idolize you don't think this is an acceptable example to emulate, and that they can blow off afterwards. This is your responsibility.
If you have any conscience at all or desire to leave the world in better condition than when you took it up, do work to heal the mess you made now. You trespassed on another person's body, and you owe.
I went to the Dollar Store Friday evening to get a bunch of strands of silk flowers for my town LGBT group's float in Greenbelt's Labor Day Parade, and continued hunting and gathering household items, always a relaxing activity for me. A tall guy in a scarlet red muscle shirt, kept turning up, examining things right next to me, reeeeeal close, as general American standards for personal space go, three times or so--as if you can't see a long expanse of bright red hovering beside you in your peripheral vision. I felt preyed upon, wary, and alert--not a fun kind of feeling when I was all about the chilling.
About the fourth pass, after hovering, he brushed past my side. OK, this was escalating--I wasn't just being paranoid--"I'm pretty sure I'm not being paranoid," was my thought, because you never can be one hundred percent certain with these stealth tactics. The next pass, his hand just happened to brush my butt. Not a grab, so you could be 100% certain, but I could bet the next time would be.
I snapped at his retreating back, "Don't touch me again!" and he turned as I glared at him. "I didn't do anything! Geez!" he shot back (feebly) with a taken aback look, and I hope that 1% doubt flooding me as I evaluated his response didn't show as I continued to glare at him angrily, and he muttered and stalked off.
I was in there a bit longer, finishing browsing the isles and he didn't cross my path again, and I figured he was gone--until I was standing in the checkout line and I saw him stalk out of the store, nothing in his hands. You don't spend that amount of time in a Dollar Store and walk out with nothing ever unless it wasn't the things on the shelf you were hunting for. Fucking predator. Fucking being evaluated as a thing. I was not wrong, and, intellectually, I know that 100%, due to that final piece of evidence of his empty hands, but the 1% doubt never leaves. That's what they count on. And that's what they usually capitalize on. For the ones of us who gain the sureness to tell them off, there are 5 more they can count on never speaking out.
I wonder how many other women he stalked during that time, as well. For that I am sorry I didn't feel the sureness to go to the clerk and tell her to be on the look out for him (probably not effective with a tired clerk toward the end of the day) or made a sweep to make sure he still wasn't in there bothering others. I would have had to have been up to at least a verbally abusive response if I did make him know he was being watched.
I did wind up feeling empowered by this incident instead of diminished, because I did trust my instincts and told him off, mildly in words, but I know my tone and glare got the "fuck off, you bastard!" idea across--it is good to release anger at deserving parties. This was a making-up for all those times when I was younger and was more choice prey, and just couldn't be sure of my perceptions, and didn't want to take the chance of accusing an innocent man. The thing that gets me is it's taken me 40 years to be able to respond like this. That's a lot of storing up negativity from the bullying of others not properly dispensed with--more women than not have this to deal with.
I'm not a shrinking violet--I did build up the fighter in me through my 20's to balance a timid childhood, and was early on able to fend off clear sexual harassment, but the much more prevalent stealth kind, no, it's taken me this long. But I've gotten here both from building up trust in my perceptions, that sneaky predators like this helped undermine, and the constant reminder from other women telling their experiences--a shout out to
And now onto World Con, and Harlan Ellison sexually harassing Connie Willis and
And I'm telling my Friday's incident upon hearing about this Saturday night harassment account now, because WTF! Harlan Ellison! You goddamned misogynist bastard!!! Groping the wonderful, brilliant, and gracious Connie Willis on stage (I've talked with her on a couple of occasions--she's a total sweetheart) and trying to diminish another woman writer here as well? No, its not funny, no it's not little, yes, it is a diminishment of a woman's sense of safety in her own body that men impose on women that reverberates far past the women you individually prey upon (don't give me counter examples of gender reversal--they do happen--they are not systemic and under gird with normative ideology), and you owe big time.
Even if your apology wasn't smarmy and you penned a genuine one, it would not be adequate. Amends are necessary. Not just to the particular powerful women you used your position of power to attempt to diminish, but for contributing to a widespread pattern of sexist oppression--way to go for a supposedly progressive dude! The power dynamics that you have abused sets this world's apart from your well-known crank stunts.
You've got a podium. Educate yourself on sexual harrassment and use that podium to write about it and raise awareness. Make sure little fanboys who idolize you don't think this is an acceptable example to emulate, and that they can blow off afterwards. This is your responsibility.
If you have any conscience at all or desire to leave the world in better condition than when you took it up, do work to heal the mess you made now. You trespassed on another person's body, and you owe.
From:
no subject
Harlan Ellison is a complete tool. Some story of his, "Croatoan" I think, is anti-choice in the extreme.
And, yeah, reading Gin will help. One must think in these situations "WWGD?" :) It would probably involve the phrase "Chist on a pony".
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Bleh.
btw, you should post more.
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TY. I will try. (-:
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I know from reading his non-fiction that he worked very hard in the early 70's advocating in favour of passage of the Equal Rights Amendment. He also put his money where his mouth was by refusing to speak or lecture in states where the ERA had not been ratified (unless it was to lecture specifically about the ERA). I know that his politics are definitely pro-feminist. Hence my confusion.
My best guess is that while he is intellectually feminist, his impulses are still stuck in the 30's-50's era he grew up in. Sort of like Isaac Asimov, who also grew up during the Depression, who was definitely a feminist, but whose last few novels, IMO, had a rather smarmy feel to them whenever it came time to describe a woman's body.
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http://wordweaverlynn.livejournal.com/303142.html?view=2659110
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Way to insult the others who also grew up in that era. It's always the powerful and priviledges who seem to claim ownership of their time and who get to use it as a reference and an excuse, never the masses they've exploited, isn't it?
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"Now, apparently Harlan Ellison is a feminist, God help us all. The Bob Packwood of SF. "
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That's a really good point.
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Absolutely correct. Whether they're harassers or outright stalkers, these guys specialize in knowing exactly where the line of plausible deniability is. Part of their craft is knowing that, even if they can't get a grope, they can still exercise power over you by making you shaken and uncertain.
Fuckers.
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I must admit even with all of my sensitivity training, I never got the whole impact of the rape problem until the sexual assault training I had to take last drill.
They explained (along with a fairly intense video reenactment) about how most of the rapes were predators using our social culture as "cover." They weren't out hiding with ski masks, but using sleazy tactics that always gave them a way out. Moreover, they took advantage of their victim by guile, using only enough force to get their way but at the same time always making the victim question their own judgement.
The best way to fix it is to educate in the short term while figuring out a way to alter the culture. If we'd remove their cover, they'd have a harder time staying hidden.
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I don't know if I like them telling you there's this whole separate class of predators "over there somewhere," rather than predatory behavior normatively encouraged in frat culture, teen movies, and the like--it's more a gradual slippage from what's normatively tolerated and still often lauded as "boys will be boys" behavior. But you read Gin, too, so you know all this already.(-:
From:
no subject
I had my own moment like this yesterday - I'd been to the doctor, and the handicapped access bus that I'd reserved to take me home couldn't get into the handicapped "loading zone" because someone had parked there (it's a standing only zone - car, bus, whatever, the driver is only supposed to be in that zone while dropping off or picking up a disabled passenger).
So I'm managing to get out to where the bus had to stop instead with the assistance of the driver and my partner, and along comes the driver of the parked car. So, I addressed him in my loudest voice, basically asking him why he was parked in a loading zone for disabled people where he wasn't supposed to be parked, and concluded my little diatribe with "You, sir, are a fucking asshole."
I felt good.
As for Harlan Ellison - it's always a profoundly difficult thing to process when someone who has done work of any kind that you like or admire turns out to either hold beliefs you abhor, or behave in person in ways that are profoundly fucked up and wrong. I've been through it I don't know how many times, and learning about Ellison's behaviour toward women (I hadn't heard of actual incidents befure, but in retrospect, there is something in the autobiographical bits and pieces in so much of his non-fiction that makes none of this all that unsurprising to me) just makes me very sad to discover that another person I had admired on account of their work turns out to be an asshole I'd rather not have anything to do with in real life.
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http://wordweaverlynn.livejournal.com/303142.html?view=2659110
I think he must be practicing to play Iago, or Professor Quirrel, or the snarling unmasking soliloquy of any of a million villains in really bad B movies.
And ty. Sometimes you can't though and you have to be ready for them to snarl back, and it can be dangerous, so you have to be up for it. I think if the exchange went any further with me telling him off, then the "fat cow" type insults would have come flying, so I would have had to be up and ready for them.
And go you for getting a good one in. (-:
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Yes, I saw that piece of crap elsewhere - methinks Mr. Ellison is trying to juggle too many disparate and mutually exclusive rationalisations in the air at once: "I didn't really do hardly anything, but what I did was a bad thing and yet it's OK becasue that's just the kind of impish rascal I am, and besides it was provocative stage theatre but at the same time just a child-like impulse becasue I just knew that's what Connie was doing a set-up for and besides, I'm an ardent feminist who'd never do anything like that to my old and very dear friend Connie who deserves what I did to her because she's been tormenting me for 25 years but you can't say you saw me do it because I didn't."
Give me a break!
Re: speaking up
Yeah, we have to think of our own needs and vulnerabilities in choseing when to speak up, and speak up wisely, but even if we only do it when we're fully prepared and in situations when we feel safe enough/strong enough to proceed - that's going to make a difference if we all do it under those conditions, every time.
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I think it's good for people to let Connie Willis know they think she would be justified to tell him off or kick HE in the crotch, but don't like seeing some of the "she should have done" out there--her way was right as well.
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I mean, I was safe when I spoke out to the man who was parked in the drop-off zone - I was not only 100% in the right, but both my partner and a semi-official person in a uniform (my bus driver) were right beside me and it was a public street in broad daylight. But it was still hard for me to speak. For those of us who can, to speak out when we're not safe, is a courageous and important thing, but not everyone can do it. But even just to restrict our speaking out to when we are safe, would make a huge difference.
And you're also, I think, quite right about how some people are projecting their own preferred courses of action onto Connie Willis - it is completely up to her how she chooses to handle the incident.
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Yes, I'm alive
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I am too! We must be twins separted at birth!
And I'm ready to kick that fucker Harlan Ellison, too.
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Ty. And all your posting on the subject has helped make me sure enough to throw it back, so ty.
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