Sexual harassment didn’t exist when I began college 42 years ago. Unless you count the time I asked for help and my criminal science professor kissed me on the lips and or the time my communications professor asked me on a date.
Did the harassment damage me? I’m not sure but I do know I never asked a professor for help again, even in graduate school, and never believed professors who praised me.
Sexual harassment also didn’t exist when I began my career 38 years ago. Unless you count the ad exec who sniffed, “We don’t hire women writers” or a boss who came in my office every morning and asked, “Are you ready?”
I’ve asked my female contemporaries about their experiences. Everyone agreed that we didn’t think much about it or talk about it at the time. We were too busy working.
And oddly enough we did not share the names of our male allies. The men who helped us. Encouraged us. Taught us. Like good brothers. Or good fathers. Maybe we thought that if we talked about one, we’d need to talk about the others.
Did the harassment damage me? I’m not sure but I do know I never asked a professor for help again, even in graduate school, and never believed professors who praised me.
Sexual harassment also didn’t exist when I began my career 38 years ago. Unless you count the ad exec who sniffed, “We don’t hire women writers” or a boss who came in my office every morning and asked, “Are you ready?”
I’ve asked my female contemporaries about their experiences. Everyone agreed that we didn’t think much about it or talk about it at the time. We were too busy working.
And oddly enough we did not share the names of our male allies. The men who helped us. Encouraged us. Taught us. Like good brothers. Or good fathers. Maybe we thought that if we talked about one, we’d need to talk about the others.
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