Hallway to Nowhere

Tag: Harvey Weinstein

  • Smiling Faces

    Smiling Faces

    I’ve thought long and hard about this this blog post. Finally I decided that I needed to write it. Last Saturday something happened at the local farmers market that I find disturbing, both on a personal level and as a commentary on how men feel free to interact with someone they perceive as female. I have been struggling with whether or not to write about this, for to do so makes it public. But I think this deserves to be talked about. The more women and others allow men to do this, the more they will do this, either because they think it is acceptable or because they believe they will not be called on it. So:

    I was having a conversation with several vendors I know. One (a man) jokingly said of the other that she was looking for a man. News to me, but whatever. I was taken aback at how he said it, though. It was sudden and inappropriate. That began the sorry slide of  continuing remarks of a supposedly jocular tone that were related to dating and or sex. Now this person is older than I am and knows I’m queer. I do NOT know what possessed him to do this. We’ve always been very cordial. I was helping him sell some of items that day in an informal manner, as I have hithertofore liked him and what he manufactored. I tried to laugh what he said off.

    But I can’t. He wasn’t overtly lewd, just enough suggestive to make me uncomfortable, but that it happened at all has now changed the way I see him AND the farmers market. He is no longer a person around whom I feel comfortable. He is moved from my “safe” list to my “unsafe” list. And, sadly, his actions and words have made the FARMERS MARKET, a place which had been one of my most favorite places in Abingdon, now a place where I know that I still have to be on guard. It was naive of me not to have been otherwise.

    Part of me wants to go on a rant. To say: What sort of world is this where a woman (I know, I don’t ID as female,  but still get defaulted that way) can’t fucking GO TO THE FARMERS MARKET without being subjected to some utterly obtuse male thinking it is fine to make sexually suggestive comments? And also: Hello, Harvey Weinstein???  You’d think especially NOW he’d have better sense than to do this type of thing? And so on. But I’m not going to do so. I’m too saddened and disapponted by what transpired. But I could not let it go with saying something. Now I have.

  • I Was Assaulted As An Undergrad (No Catchy Title)

    This is my Harvey Weinstein story. I’ve never revealed this before. When I was in my first semester of college, a very young undergrad (age 16), I was sexually assaulted by a professor. Not only was he much older that I, married, he was also an administrator.  He was not a prof in any of my classes but did run one of the programs in which I was enrolled. We had met at a party for the Honors College that I attended. (Just in case you are wondering, there was no alcohol or drugs at this gathering. ) We talked about literature. He mentioned that he lived not far from my apartment, and asked if I was interested in babysitting his son. I said that I would like to meet his son first, as he had indicated he had some  disabilities, and I wanted to be sure I could physically cope with whatever was necessary. We agreed on a time to meet in the afternoon the next day.

    I walked to his house. Now keep in mind that this was in the mid-70s so pre-cell phone and pre-PC. I really had no way to vet this guy other than to ask around and I had no reason to think I needed to do that. I mean, he was a person I would assume I should trust- an admin and a respected prof. So I blithely went off alone and didn’t mention to anyone where I was going. After all, I expected that his wife and son would be there. What was to worry about?

    I should have worried. I arrived there to find him alone. He said his wife and son would be home soon. I thought, “Okay”. He took me into his study…how cheesy, right? We went in there and he pulled out a book to hand to me. He dropped it. I leaned to pick it up, the next thing I know, I’m on the floor with him on top of me…thinking WTF??? He’s a big guy and I’m not. He’s trying to kiss me; I’m turning away, and saying NONONONO. He keeps saying, “You came here, you came here, you came here….” Inside my head is the words NOT FOR THIS NEVER FOR THIS and he’s unzipping his pants but then the we hear a noise outside. His wife and son had returned. I’ve been saved. He whispers, “You wanted this this, you know.”

    The next day I found a gift-wrapped copy of the Necronomicon had been delivered to my apartment, along with a note that said that he and his wife had an arrangement. If I tried to tell anyone what happened, she would say that I had seduced her husband. I was shaking as  I read the note.  I didn’t tell anyone. I just unenrolled from anything having to do with him, avoided him on campus, and made sure to tell my friends to do the same.

    Looking back, I’m can see now that he was a predator plain and simple. I’m sure I was not the first student he had pulled that babysitting routine with and unfortunately, because I did not tell anyone, I was not the last. Why didn’t I tell? Because I didn’t think anyone would believe me. I was a  very young student. He was a reputable venerable professor in a postion of power and privilege.  And I feared losing my early admission and having to return to high school.  And I didn’t want to be seen as a victim. And I was ashamed… it gets turned around into, “that I allowed this to happen to me.”