I've really struggled with how to keep moving forward with the resistance after I published my book. The stories that needed to be told were hard, left me completely vulnerable, my #MeToo stories.
My #MeToo stories are the only way I learned compassion for W. Kamau Bell after I read about being a tall black man harrassed in the United States, for Michael Eric Dyson when he was put face-down on the pavement by a police officer while his wife and child watched. He had a broken tail light. And I still had to work to make the connection so I could feel compassion for them. A lot of other courageous women telling their stories helped me make that connection. I didn't want to make that connection. I wanted to keep sleeping, cover the lid back over all that shame and pain. I didn't want to see the struggle for black America because if I could feel their pain, I would have to acknowledge my own.
My #MeToo stories are full of shame. Brene Brown would having something to say about that, wouldn't she? I cringe when I read a woman's story and the comments are all the same things that people said to me when I told them my anguish over being harassed. It was awful. What was I wearing? Had I flirted with this man? How much did I have to drink? What did I do to deserve the treatment I got? Why didn't I say anything sooner?
Those questions shut me the hell up for more than thirty-four years. Yes, I said thirty-four. Some of the stories I've barely told my husband, my shame ran so deep. The thought of having all those stories bound into one book seems exhausting, excruciating, completely vulnerable.
Yet, I keep coming back to these stories when I think of how to #resist. I know that for the current poser in the White House, misogyny is one of my primary reasons for fighting against him, that along with his continual debasement of the office, his disregard for ethics and morality, and the way he seems to want to crush the Constitution.
But there are many people much more qualified than I am to argue the Constitution. As for ethics and morality, I think my stories touch on what allowed a man like Trump to enter the Oval Office along with the help he needed from Putin. People like Trump run companies, become bosses, are allowed to run rampant in school hallways, grabbing and assaulting people as they go.
So, I'm going to try to find a little courage to tell my stories about being harassed in the United States. Like with Michael Eric Dyson's story, it might help to open our culture up to change just to hear what happened, how many times these things happened.
Can you tell I'm nervous? I'm really nervous. This could be a total catastrophe, laying myself bare for any old troll to torture me. With my book, I've already been called pathetic for thinking Trump is a problem, promiscuous because Planned Parenthood helped me when I was a young woman, and one guy insulted my hair but he blocked me before I could respond to tell him that comments about my ugly hair didn't constitute a good argument for having Trump in the White House.
Despite these comments, I'm still standing. So, I'll get right on it. Really, I will.
Thank you for listening, jules
My #MeToo stories are the only way I learned compassion for W. Kamau Bell after I read about being a tall black man harrassed in the United States, for Michael Eric Dyson when he was put face-down on the pavement by a police officer while his wife and child watched. He had a broken tail light. And I still had to work to make the connection so I could feel compassion for them. A lot of other courageous women telling their stories helped me make that connection. I didn't want to make that connection. I wanted to keep sleeping, cover the lid back over all that shame and pain. I didn't want to see the struggle for black America because if I could feel their pain, I would have to acknowledge my own.
My #MeToo stories are full of shame. Brene Brown would having something to say about that, wouldn't she? I cringe when I read a woman's story and the comments are all the same things that people said to me when I told them my anguish over being harassed. It was awful. What was I wearing? Had I flirted with this man? How much did I have to drink? What did I do to deserve the treatment I got? Why didn't I say anything sooner?
Those questions shut me the hell up for more than thirty-four years. Yes, I said thirty-four. Some of the stories I've barely told my husband, my shame ran so deep. The thought of having all those stories bound into one book seems exhausting, excruciating, completely vulnerable.
Yet, I keep coming back to these stories when I think of how to #resist. I know that for the current poser in the White House, misogyny is one of my primary reasons for fighting against him, that along with his continual debasement of the office, his disregard for ethics and morality, and the way he seems to want to crush the Constitution.
But there are many people much more qualified than I am to argue the Constitution. As for ethics and morality, I think my stories touch on what allowed a man like Trump to enter the Oval Office along with the help he needed from Putin. People like Trump run companies, become bosses, are allowed to run rampant in school hallways, grabbing and assaulting people as they go.
So, I'm going to try to find a little courage to tell my stories about being harassed in the United States. Like with Michael Eric Dyson's story, it might help to open our culture up to change just to hear what happened, how many times these things happened.
Can you tell I'm nervous? I'm really nervous. This could be a total catastrophe, laying myself bare for any old troll to torture me. With my book, I've already been called pathetic for thinking Trump is a problem, promiscuous because Planned Parenthood helped me when I was a young woman, and one guy insulted my hair but he blocked me before I could respond to tell him that comments about my ugly hair didn't constitute a good argument for having Trump in the White House.
Despite these comments, I'm still standing. So, I'll get right on it. Really, I will.
Thank you for listening, jules
No comments:
Post a Comment