Big bully Gaetz tries body shaming; he failed
Fat shaming, as ubiquitous as it remains, doesn’t usually make news.
Those kinds of cutting comments are most often made in small groups among people who aren’t newsmakers. Or they’re bandied about anonymously on social media by people who hide behind obscure Twitter handles.
Shaming people for their size is often wrapped up in misogyny. Typically, a man or boy attacks a woman or girl, especially one they’re threatened by or consider an easy target.
Most often victims know their bullies, and everyone else knows the drill. They may wince, or laugh or just look away, usually avoiding the eyes of the person being bullied.
The hurtful names that bullies use are well known. I won’t repeat them here. But “fat” may be the least of them.
You may recognize a bully when you see one — his character and demeanor, the way he carries himself, the bravado, the sense of privilege.
You might have been one. Or perhaps you were his victim.
You might have held your head high, as your mother told you to do. You learned this was a way to overcome hate. You minimized it.
Often victims went to school with their bullies, or worked alongside them. Sometimes, they were your bosses. They got away with such behavior, until they didn’t.
The bully’s intention is always based on cruelty, though sometimes it’s a power play, to illustrate how much he has and, in turn, how little his victim possesses.
His actions may be an act of insecurity, though I don’t want to offer much more sympathy or psychoanalysis than that.
As adults, the bullied remember their harassers. They see them at high school reunions, Facebook, church, during Fiesta.
I’ve chosen not to confront my bullies, but I’ve chosen to engage them. Some are clearly uncomfortable while I look directly at them.
It’s my hope we’ve all recovered. I’ve healed. My hope is some of them have reformed.
At least one, the worst one, has chosen to look away, pretending not to see me.
Except, of course, when someone he deems important is nearby, then his acknowledgment is full on. He’s reprehensible.
Which brings me to Matt Gaetz, the Republican congressman from Florida who may be the best recognized bully in the country just now.
Last weekend he spoke in Tampa and attacked women who are advocating for abortion rights.
“Why is it that the women with the least likelihood of getting pregnant are the ones most worried about abortions?
“Nobody wants to impregnate you if you look like a thumb,” Gaetz said.
He went on to mention eating salads and marching as an exercise regimen.
To be clear, Gaetz didn’t name Texas activist Olivia Julianna directly, at least not at first.
Olivia Julianna, who doesn’t use her surname in public because of safety concerns, responded to Gaetz’s on Twitter saying she’s “5’11. 6’4 in heels” and wears them “so the small
men like you are reminded of your place.”
She also made reference to a Justice Department investigation that alleges Gaetz was involved in sex trafficking and prostitution involving a then-17year-old girl.
Gaetz has maintained his innocence and said the investigation is part of a “criminal shakedown” of his family. He hasn’t been charged with any crimes.
Gaetz tweeted a story about their exchange with a photo of Olivia Julianna and the words, “Dander raised…”
A spokesperson for Gaetz then said, “Congressman Gaetz never mentioned the adult’s weight. Leftist media did.”
Sharing her photograph was
key to Gaetz’s bullying tactics, meant to unleash hate her way, and he was right about that.
But what he didn’t figure was that Olivia Julianna would became an overnight sensation, or that he attempted to pick on a 19-year-old Mexican American who’s already a political strategist and social media influencer and on the staff of Gen-z for Change.
By Friday evening, the Gen-z for Choice Abortion Fund had raised $1.4 million for groups working on restoring abortion rights.
In an interview with Teen Vogue, and in response to questions
about how she got the confidence to take on an elected official, Olivia Julianna credited watching professional wrestling on TV and the WWE’S scripted conflicts.
She also credited her grandmother, “My Nana got me into it.”
Bullies won’t see how powerful this story is, nor value the teaching moment it offers.
It reminds us that authority figures have to redouble their efforts to stop bullies before they become monsters — in schools, workplaces and houses of worship, in statehouses and in Washington, D.C.
Because that’s where they can inflict the most harm.