Filed under: art, business, Gender politics, theatre | Tags: harassment-versary, sexism, sexual harassment, theatre, women at work
One year ago, I posted this blog about my experience of sexism in American Theatre. The response it got was overwhelming and generated a whole host of other thoughts about my experience. (Here, here and here, for a start.) A year later, the initial post still gets a view or two a day but mostly the dust it stirred up has settled.
So I thought I might kick it up again because the past year has given me a great deal to think about. Because there’s so much, I’ll be celebrating my harassment-versary in installments.
Part One: The Job
Many people wanted to know what happened with the Job. The immediate effects are recounted here but what came after is trickier to sum up.
Short version: I haven’t worked there since.
Long version: After the initial phone calls from the managing director in which he expressed hopes that I would continue working there and in which he let me know what actions were being taken, after all the teaching artists suddenly received employee handbooks (including a sexual harassment policy) and after plans for a sit-down with the big bosses of the organization and the man I’d called out were made (for a future date, sometime before my next meeting there): nothing much happened. Due diligence by the organization, lawsuits averted, asses covered and then it was a matter of waiting.
Months went by before I was scheduled to come in for the next round of work and I realized that if I was going to have this promised meeting, I’d have to arrange it myself. And I found I did not want to work there enough to do that. So I skipped that first work commitment (this is the advantage of working At Will) and I had enough work elsewhere to turn down the next round of work, too. Given the choice between working at a place where I’d experienced sexual harassment and working at a place I hadn’t (yet. . it ‘s never too late!) I went with the place I felt welcome. And while all of this lacks the dramatic punch that many readers longed for (“Did you get a heartfelt apology?” “Did you sue?” “Did you quit in a blaze of glory?” “Did he get fired?”) I think it’s likely that this is how a lot sexual harassment stories go.
I’ve done a lot of reading and listening and thinking about women in the workplace in the last year. One thing I discovered was that women are a lot less likely to report sexual harassment than they think they are. That is, every 8 out of 10 women who read my blog and thought “I’d totally report that guy!” probably wouldn’t have in reality – for a lot of good reasons. (But my hat’s off to those who have!)
Why is this sort of culture so pernicious? There are dozens of reasons but one likely contribution is a psychological concept called Learned Helplessness. That is, people who encounter a failure enough times will simply become unable to do anything. (Watch the video at the end of this great article about the idea.)
This makes me think about the myriad ways women encounter sexual harassment throughout our lives and how we learned that it’s just a part of the culture so there’s not much we can do about it. Girls are fetishized as sexual objects before we are even aware of what sex is and the culture constantly reminds us that we are only as valuable as we are sexually desirable. After a lifetime of being unable to stop the wolf-whistles, cat-calls, unwanted touches, aggressive innuendo and inappropriate jokes, many of us have learned to feel helpless when someone crosses a line. Because someone crosses a line almost every day of our lives and if we spent all our time fighting it, when would have time to do our hair? (Ha. Kidding. I mean, when would we have time to become brain surgeons!?)
But the Learned Helplessness effect isn’t just a factor in the initial response to harassment. In other words, it’s not just in whether or not you say something in the moment, it’s also in what you choose to do later. And it doesn’t have to happen to us personally for us to learn the consequences of speaking up. Women in my generation saw what happened to Anita Hill as we were growing up. And every day now you can see what happens to women who speak up about injustice. When Lindy West talked about rape jokes, she received a barrage of threats of both rape and death. Anita Sarkeesian became the target of an organized on-line hate campaign just because she decided to make videos about women in videogames. Silence becomes a much safer response to all of this in a culture of trolls.
Should I have stayed and fought? Maybe. If it were a job I really wanted, I would have. In my case, the frustration and disrespect that plague my profession as a whole are such that I’m doing everything I can to get out of it and get my own businesses off the ground (this and this.) I don’t have time to teach one guy and one organization how to handle me and my case better. I have better things to do. (Like my hair! Ha. No actually, seriously, we have a photo shoot for my show and the hair takes a wicked long time.)
My suspicion is that many many businesses lose their women this way. A work environment becomes hostile or just uncomfortable and rather than making a point of why they’re leaving, women will just go. More and more women are starting their own businesses, becoming entrepreneurs. That’s exciting on one hand and a wake-up call on the other. If I were a big business, I’d be concerned about a culture that encourages women to leave it.
Did I do the right thing? For me, I did, yes. Did they do the right thing? For the most part, yes. Could they have reached out to me again? Yes. Would I still be working there if they had? Maybe. Do I want to be? Not really, no. So it’s all fine. I mean, aside from the fact that the dude has what is probably a six figure job and I’ll be lucky if I clear $20,000 this year. But I’ll save the post on the economics of sexism for another day.
Next up: Part 2 of my Harassment-versary Special:
Progress report on Women in American Theatre
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