Ladies, Let’s Get Our Act Together

When it comes to sexual harassment, reform begins with us.

On my other blog I offered some thoughts on the recent expose of sexual harassment in the world of children’s publishing.  Several well-known, best-selling authors, and a few publishing executives—all of them male—have been called out by name for inappropriate sexual comments and unwanted advances, such as ogling, groping, and hounding women for dates (“My wife is totally fine with it”).

Exposures of harassment in any sector begins with a spark, and in children’s publishing the spark was a piece published on Medium.com by children’s author Anne Ursu.  Straightforwardly titled, “Sexual Harassment in the Children’s Book Industry,” the article reported the results of an online survey Ms. Ursu ran from December to January.  She received almost 90 responses, all reporting some form of uninvited sexual attention.  Her report is well-written and well-thought-out, carefully defining terms (like “sexual harassment,” which could use some defining) and steering clear of sensationalism.  She lets the personal experiences of her respondents speak for themselves, and I don’t doubt any of them.

These men should be called out and dealt with.  But as #MeToo reels from one cultural corner to another, I’d like to signal time-out for a little woman-to-woman talk.

Many of the plaintiffs framed their reactions to unwanted sexual advances or comments this way: “I felt small.”  “I was humiliated.”  Even, “He broke me.”  There were no reports of rape or violent assault; this rhetoric is in response to juvenile behavior.  Stupid remarks.  Unfunny jokes.  Silly innuendo.  Conversational gambits they should have grown out of in junior high.

Let’s think about that: certain men are acting like pigs, and we feel small?

Certain men are acting like pigs, and women feel small?

The smallness, the helplessness emerges over and over.  “Society has taught us to gaslight ourselves,” wrote one respondent.  From another: “a culture of toxic masculinity and misogyny” is stacked against them.  Anne Ursu herself summarizes an unwelcome encounter this way: “He sees you as an object, and thus you feel like an object.  He treats you as fungible, thus you feel fungible.  And ashamed for ever thinking you were anything else in the first place.”

Whoa.  I mean, whoa.  “An object”? “Fungible”? “Ashamed”?  Again, a few men are stomping around in the barnyard, and this is how we feel?

Don’t get me wrong; I understand the feeling, especially for a pretty, sparkly twenty-something hoping to make her mark in the business.  I’ve felt that way myself—up until age 30 or so.  Then I started to toughen up.  Not to excuse the jerks, but if a jerk is making you feel small after a certain age, you need to work on your feelings.  More importantly, work on your feelings before that certain age.

The standard solutions for sexual harassment have to do with protocols, guidelines, and consequences.  Those are practical steps that can do some good.  When it comes to underlying principles, though, they get a bit unreal.  “We need to upend the way we think about sexual harassment,” Anne Ursu says, meaning: “We need to put the harassed first.”  “Zero tolerance,” writes one of her respondents.  “There needs to be a top-down prioritization of people’s safety and basic humanity over the prioritization of profit.”

In person-to-person interactions, we are the first responders.

Here are 13 Reasons Why that’s not going to happen, in any way beyond lip service.  When has it happened?  Ever?  In some religious and charitable organizations, yes, but not in any business, or not for any length of time.  Because if profit is not prioritized, the business fails.  Corporate culture can still be humane, but safety and basic humanity are not why publishers—or anyone—are in business.  Nothing will really change until the reforms come from the ground level as well as the top.  Otherwise, it’s like expecting FEMA to show up before the first responders do.

In person-to-person interactions, we are the first responders.

In addition to teaching young women about balance sheets, networking, negotiating, and time management, we can teach them to stand up for themselves.  There’s no need to be shocked or humiliated at boorish behavior—some men (a minority) are boors.  A woman in the professional world needs to recognize this.  She needs to expect decent behavior from her male peers (and superiors), but not be devastated by indecent behavior.  A woman in the work world needs to settle this with herself:

I am a person of worth; I have abilities and something to contribute, and I will not let anyone convince me otherwise.  I will gladly accept constructive criticism; I will not accept diminishing comments.  I will look people in the eye.  When a man complements my appearance, I will smile, say thank you, and change the subject.  If he complements my breasts or derriere, I will stare at him coldly and change the subject.  If a clever put-down is called for, I’ll think up a few and have them ready.  If push comes to shove, I’ll shove.  Maybe even literally.  I can’t, in the end, make anyone respect me.  But no one will keep me from respecting myself.

Women have their own forms of power, and I’m not talking about marching in the streets with big signs.  We are not helpless, we are not less than human, we are not without effect.  Much of the harassment will stop when we stop accepting it, or looking to other power structures to stop it for us.