It's nearly time for the next installment of the
Down Under Feminist Carnival.
Hoorah! Each carnival gives me a plethora of new reading material and if I'm lucky, a few new blogs to subscribe to. The next carnival is hosted by
Penguin Unearthed, who wants to have a focus on feminism/women in the workplace. In celebration of this, my regular post in the Case of the Mondays series is all about why I thank my lucky stars in being free of corporate culture and regulation in the workplace as it relates to my gender.
Have you ever been sexually harassed in the workplace? I have. Have you ever reported sexual harassment in the workplace? I haven't. In yet another case where I wish I could go back in time and tell my younger self to follow what I knew was right, instead of staying quiet to avoid making waves, I can recall multiple times I've been sexually harassed in the workplace. I can recall working in bars, being harassed by patrons. I can recall working in restaurants, being harassed by diners. I can recall working in a call centre, being harassed by heavy breathers and sexually explicit phone calls. I can recall working in an office, being sexually harassed by a client. What smarts the most, in retrospect, is that I can recall working in an office and being harassed by a co-worker.
For most of the examples where I was sexually
harassed, the behaviour was not threatening in a violent sense, nor was it particularly memorable or traumatic for me. There was only one example where I was made to feel threatened. I worked in a pub where a patron kept asking me out. My polite refusals made no difference. On the man's next visit he pointed out I had better "keep being nice" to him, because if he wanted to he could [insert sexually explicit example here] anytime he wanted. He'd seen my car in the parking lot (thanks to personalised number plates gifted to me by relatives) and could wait out there until I finished my shift. I reported this incident to my supervisors immediately, which resulted in him being thrown out on his ear and subsequently banned from the venue. Security escorted me to my car from then on. I was entirely satisfied with how the issue was dealt with, even if I remained nervous and skittish until I finished work there. Unpleasant to experience, but certainly in relation to how my workplace dealt with it, I was satisfied.
Other instances have ranged from drunken propositioning over the bar, wealthy men who confuse waitress with prostitute (never work a private dining room at the
MCG), or lewd and
inappropriate comments about myself personally. In all of those cases I felt, at the time, secure enough to deal with each man in a way which
extricated myself from the situation and prevented it happening again. In none of those examples did I report the incident to a superior. Now here comes the kicker. In one office I worked in I can recall two specific incidents of sexual harassment, both related to one another. First, I will point out that I was 19 at the time and working my first full time job after pulling out of my first university degree. I'd gone to work for a very wealthy accounting firm doing reception work and was very green. In the third month of my employment a regular client came in to the reception area. He said his usual friendly hello, I called the senior partner he was there to meet with and showed him in to the meeting room.
While I was getting him his cup of tea, he did his usual jovial questions about how my day was unfolding. Then as I
lent beside him to put his tea on the table he rubbed my lower back and asked how I felt about older men. I froze. He took this as a sign of compliance and lowered his hand towards my buttocks. Zinging with tension, I jerked away and made some off-hand joke about my boyfriend being older, giving him (and I) the out to pretend his question had just been friendly banter. I practically ran out of the office. When I sat back down at my desk I felt physically ill. I wondered what I had done to provoke his actions. Was I too friendly? Had I crossed the line of office behaviour? I concluded that I must have done something to send him the signal I was interested. My co-worker, a woman much older than I, was horrified when I told her and demanded I speak to the partner who handled this client. She was
adamant that it should not happen again, to me or any of the other staff.
Can anyone guess what happened next? I went to my meeting with the senior partner (his name was on the letterhead, so you don't get more senior than him). I explained, mortified throughout, what had
occurred. When I reached the end, I was relieved to find my employer smiling. All I could think was 'okay, maybe I'm not going to be in trouble or get fired'. Senior partner, well into his fifties, then launched into a speech about keeping clients happy. About how it was my job to 'greet' customers and 'put them at ease'. He told me he'd known said client for over ten years, that he was essentially a lovely man, that he had a daughter my age. Now, at this point, I was beyond
embarrassed. The message was clear; I had misinterpreted the actions of a valued client, but more than that, what I was accusing him of was something that was
part of my job. It was my job to make light banter about whatever he wanted to, and flirting was a part of that package. The fact that I had felt sexually harassed, or even just plain uncomfortable, was mitigated by the fact that he had a daughter my age (meaning he couldn't possibly have wanted to act upon it, perhaps? I still don't understand that part). This was all horrible. It was all, unequivocally, wrong. What happened next was worse. Senior partner then proceeded to tell me in paternalistic tones that he had noticed, since I started working there, that I was at a really lovely stage of life, progressing from being 'a girl to a woman'. That I should appreciate compliments and advances from men, seeing as how they were an affirmation of the 'lovely lady' I was blossoming into. Many romances started in places such as the office, and perhaps I should be more gracious about the attentions shown to me.
Here's the bit where I go back in time to my former self, remember to put pepper spray in my pocket that day, pull it out as this
soliloquy ends and spray the whole can into his face. That, or have the good sense to sue for sexual harassment. Instead, in the reality of 1999, I mumble an apology, leave the office with my cheeks burning red and work out the remainder of the day humiliated by the whole experience. In the hours following, I feel like the stupidest person on earth. I'm completely conflicted and have very mixed messages from the whole ordeal. I have one very clear emotion, though. I am ashamed. Ashamed that I made a big deal out of what the client did, ashamed that I thought he was coming on to me when my senior partner thought otherwise, ashamed that even if he was coming on to me, who was I to refuse a 'friendly' advance, ashamed of the attention that had been drawn to my body and my self, which I had only just begun seeing and exploring in a sexual way. By the end of the week I was so humiliated that I couldn't bring myself to go back to work there. I was convinced that everyone knew and that the senior partner's condescending smiles were proof that I was just a very misguided young girl. I phoned in my resignation, never returned, never asked for a reference. I made up some crappy excuse to my parents and never told anyone the extent of what had
occurred.
I'm sure I'm not alone in describing the feelings that this left me with. I'm sure plenty of us have had similar experiences or dealt with it in similar ways. I'm sure that my desire to turn back the clock and tell my younger self that my unease with the situation was real, that I should be true to my innate feeling that something was wrong about all of it. That I should listen to myself instead of letting my employer manipulate me to save himself drama and
aggravation. Ultimately, it's one experience that opened my eyes, even if I didn't realise or act on it the way I could/should have at the time. It is also just one example of a culture of misogyny and boys protecting boys which I strongly believe still exists today. That incident was nearly ten years ago, but I doubt it would be any less likely in 2008.
So thank god I don't have to deal with such bulls**t anymore. I wish it was because the culture of workplaces had changed, but that's not how it is. If there is any less sexual harassment in the workplace, or any less covering-up by more senior male staff, it is because of fear of litigation or a tarnished image. It is not because there is more respect for women, nor is it because there is more recognition that the behaviour is
inherently wrong. Me, ten years later, is unlikely to receive the same treatment, but most likely this is because the confidence (and defensiveness) with which I approach the same situations is worlds apart than me at 19, a glaringly obvious target as someone far less experienced at handling the attentions of males in more senior positions than I. I'll be happy to go and work in an office again when I have the confidence not only that a) I won't be sexually harassed, but b) that my
colleagues and superiors will have the depth of
character to respect that I have a right to work free from such behaviour and will act accordingly.
