There are times life’s journey makes us feel like Sisyphus. Every day we roll up the proverbial rock, only to watch it fall back down, crashing our souls with every step. There are a legions of people who feel disenfranchised in this world and live the life of Sisyphus every damn day. Every day is a battle – of wits, perceptions, and judgements. I imagine there are time those people wish the rock would just roll over them. It’s easy to succumb to defeat when your spirit is trounced every day.
I’d like to tell you about a time that someone stood up for me when I was beaten down. I was in my late 20s and worked in the financial sector at the time. It was a pretty conservative kind of place, as you would imagine back in the day. I’m talking the days of suits and pumps and briefcases. I was in the office one day when a highfalutin power guy came in, lording over everyone. I did not know him but I noted how his voice boomed and his chest was puffed out. My eyes were drawn to his spit shined wingtips and gleaming cufflinks. He was boisterous and cocky, talking over everyone without waiting his turn. The receptionist asked him to wait, and as he took a step back he looked my way. In all his arrogance he felt that it was okay to start talking about my looks, my outfit, and my ass in front of our colleagues, clients, and passersby. He was ogling, trying to enlist the machismo of his peers. It was full-blown sexual harassment, and I was mortified. I was young and didn’t really know how to process this experience. I simply didn’t know what to do. I was brimming with shame and rage. I found myself tugging at my skirt, as if admitting in a twisted way that I had invited this behavior. A familiar bile and discomfort I had felt so many other times crept over me.
It’s things like this as women that we hear all the time, yet never grow used to (nor should we). I stood there, frozen, and I took it. He kept going, smirking with each leer. His peers laughed. Some joined in. The women were silent but glanced furtively at me to send a signal of empathy. I was the victim of a full blown vocal gangbang of sexual innuendo. The whole scene was completely inappropriate by any measure. I walked out, head down, shoulders sagging. I willed the tears to not well up in my eyes, for I did not want to give them any satisfaction or god forbid, more ammo. I hurried back to my office and buried myself in estate planning numbers. My productivity was shot.
Later that day, a representative from human resources contacted me. Someone whom I did not know happened to be in that office at the time and heard the whole ordeal. He stood up for me when I left. He, a peer of the vermin, called HR from his office, taking notes of all the vile things he had heard. He told that scum and his pals that he had contacted human resources about their behavior. He said they jeered him and called him a pu$$y. They claimed they were just joking and went so far to say that I should feel complimented. They acknowledged their power in the firm and knew they had nothing to fear. Sadly, that was true. Those men faced no repercussions. I, and most of my female colleagues, faced similar harassment throughout our tenure. Everyone chalked it up to “boys will be boys,” “this is how things roll in the financial world,” or “no real harm was done.” Among men and women alike, our experiences were ignored and never validated. Facing such sexism on a daily basis makes all women heroes.
While there was no justice that day, what I did have was an ally, someone who stood up for me and said “Hey, this isn’t right.” A stranger. A man whose mother must have had the same parenting philosophy I have – I want to raise my sons to not be assholes. When there is injustice, it’s important we all step in and speak up. Just because something does not affect me directly does not mean I should not use my voice or my influence. Silence is acceptance.
It’s a powerful thing to have an ally. It’s even more powerful to be one.