If we ignore harassment, we’re part of the problem
I have some bad news. You probably know a man who’s harassed or abused women, and you probably didn’t do anything to stop him.
This is a harsh fact, and I know that some of you will hate me for pointing it out.
Yet in light of our national reckoning with the fact that some powerful men in the workplace have gotten away with abusing and mistreating women for too long, it has to be said.
The #MeToo movement has resulted in a flood of stories from women who felt compelled to keep their agony private because we live in a world that requires it.
As with all fledgling social movements, it’s gained vocal supporters and detractors — people who believe it’s past time for the status quo to change and those who believe it will never be the right time. But a far larger category of observers seems to be those who feel aghast but don’t know how to react or what to do. This feeling of uncertainty is understandable. All of this has been happening, all around them, for most of their lives. Yet they didn’t stop to think about it. They certainly didn’t confront it while it was happening. I’ve been on both sides of this equation. On the one hand, I’ve held jobs where I was sexually harassed by men who had the power to decide my paycheck and my position. I’m well acquainted with the special kind of powerlessness that comes with that situation — and how that powerlessness is exacerbated by (usually male, occasionally female) colleagues who either
dismiss or downplay the bad behavior of their friends, their bosses and their co-workers.
The experience affected my life, my relationships, my willingness to trust — and I know that I was one of the lucky ones. I’ve seen other female friends be ground down by harassment and abuse in workplaces, to the point where they felt like making a career change was the only sensible choice.
The fact that every woman I know has a story like this means that these men exist, well — everywhere. It means we all have them in our families and our circles of friends. It’s just math.
But the pervasiveness of the problem doesn’t make it easier to deal with. Which brings me to the other side of the equation. Occasionally, I’ve had the misfortune to learn that a friend or acquaintance has behaved horribly — and I’ve been unsure about how to handle it.
The first hurdle is believing that there’s something to the accusations.
If you struggle with the first hurdle, then this is where your work needs to begin. (And boy, does your work need to begin.)
Once I’m over the shock, I actually find it relatively easy to believe that someone I know is capable of doing something wrong. But then what? The next step is where I’ve flailed in the past.
Do I confront the person, or do I avoid him like the plague? Do I tell every woman who may be in contact with this guy? Do other people believe this, or has everyone else decided it’s just fine?
Lots of difficult questions come into play when it’s someone you know. Things that feel obvious in the abstract suddenly feel incredibly complicated. We all want to believe the best about the people we know. In the face of evidence to the contrary, the easiest thing to do is to ignore it. No more. If there’s anything I’ve remembered over the past two months, it’s how predatory behavior thrives when no one’s willing to challenge it. So I spoke to some psychotherapists and anti-assault advocates. They shared some advice about how to deal with the harassers you know. Have the courage to use it. Follow the survivor’s lead. Take your cues from what the survivor wants, not from what you want. Does she want to press charges? Support her. Does she want to go public with her accusations? Support her. Does she not want to endure the scrutiny that would result from a public airing? Support her.
Sometimes confrontation is necessary.
Sometimes an acquaintance can, and should, just be written off entirely. But sometimes you have to interact with a harasser or an abuser on a regular basis. If you know the perpetrator well and feel safe enough to speak to him, don’t shrug off his behavior. Choose a moment when you’re calm and the environment is safe. Then ...
Address the issue sensitively, but firmly.
Try saying something like, “I’ve seen things about your behavior with women that are unacceptable. I don’t want to talk to you about it —” avoid being dragged into the harasser’s defensive arguments! “— but I want you to know that this is a problem, and you can talk to someone who could help you with it.”
If there’s anything I’ve remembered over the past two months, it’s how predatory behavior thrives when no one’s willing to challenge it.