ME TOO, Part One

I was ten or eleven when I stayed with my paternal grandmother for a week. She had been a widow for four years and was dating a neighbor. One day, the neighbor invited me to walk with him about a mile to the cemetery because he wanted to tend to his wife's grave. My grandmother gave us her blessing, and off we went.

I don't remember what we were talking about, but it seemed innocent and friendly during our walk to the cemetery. When we got to the gravesite, the man began hoeing the sprouting weeds. Suddenly, he stopped and told me how pretty I was and that I would be beautiful when I grew up. He put his arms around me and started caressing my flat chest, telling me I would one day have lovely breasts. I was confused and frightened at the same time. I finally broke away from him and ran back to my grandmother's house as fast as I could. I was given a Bible and instructed to stay in the back bedroom.

Soon, the man approached my grandmother's front porch. My grandmother, all 4'10" of her, came out of the house with the shotgun aimed at his head. She yelled, "You come around here anymore, and I will shoot you. When I tell her father about what you did, he'll probably shoot you himself." The man hurried off, never to be seen again.

I don't know if she ever told my father or not, but she kept me close to her for the rest of my visit.

He'd be over 110 years old by now. Otherwise, I'd have to pay him a visit.

Twenty-five years later, I was a few months pregnant when I traveled to New York City on my monthly business trips. I fought nausea the entire three-hour flight to LaGuardia from Dallas.

I had already learned that morning sickness was a misnomer. Pregnancy wasn't any fun. It was a 24-hour-per-day ordeal for me. I had to fight tears and exhaustion daily, if not hourly.

My usual routine was taking a bus to and from work daily. It was rare to find a seat anywhere. I hung on to the overhead bar in the center as the bus was heading back to my hotel after the end of a long day. As usual, we were packed into there like sardines. I was beyond exhausted.

The man standing next to me kept getting closer and closer. At first, I thought he might be having difficulty with his balance. It soon became evident that he rubbed his penis next to my thigh. I was horrified and kept elbowing him. He persisted.

At the next stop, I hurried off the bus. Tears streamed down my face as I quickly headed to the hotel. I could not believe someone would behave in such a manner.

I thought I was very mature, but as I reflect on my reaction to this predator, I realize how naive I had been. I was only 28 and had grown up in a small town. I had flown in an airplane for the first time in my mid-twenties, so my monthly trips to New York City still left me in awe.

If something like that happened today, I'd yell at him at the top of my voice and call the police.

Several years later, my habit was to run a few miles in the early morning hour before sunrise while my daughter remained asleep. The streets were deserted at that time of the morning. There had been news stories about women joggers being abducted and raped when they ran. I decided to buy a small .22 pistol and strap it around my waist with my tee shirt over it. It hadn't been a week or two until I heard the sound of a man in boots running behind me. He was not dressed as a jogger. I always wondered how I would react if my life were threatened. I soon found out.

I abruptly stopped, turned around while pulling out my gun, and faced the man. "You better get the f*** out of here," I screamed. I think he almost had a heart attack. I wouldn't have cared if he did, as he disturbed my early morning jog, and it infuriated me. The look on his face was one of terror. He abruptly made an about-face and ran in the other direction.

I no longer carry a gun when hiking or taking long walks, but I don't often go when it's dark. Heck, I don't even own a gun anymore.

There have been many times in my career when men in power were sexually inappropriate either to other women I knew or to me, but I learned to handle them. One of the CEOs of a healthcare system I worked for had a reputation for pursuing female staff. When he patted one of my female employees on her bottom at a hospital-sponsored event for physicians and in front of several doctors, she came to my office to tell me about it. I promptly went with her to HR and emphatically stated that I would make sure she found a lawyer and went to the Press unless they took immediate action. And, we would "double down" if he tried to retaliate by telling me to fire her. She still works for that hospital. Unfortunately, several other female employees told me he had contacted them at home and wanted to take them to dinner "to discuss their careers." I put a stop to that, as well. grrrr

I hear men questioning why women don't come forward more frequently and promptly. The CEO mentioned above still works for that same healthcare system. Men like him believe that their positions make them immune to being fired. After all, in their minds, it's "his word against her word." They use their positions of power to manipulate and assault women. Women are afraid of losing their livelihoods. I have no doubt that I only knew a fraction of the many women this man has inappropriately touched and/or approached.

I think about African-American parents who train their sons to keep safe from racist, rogue police that would love nothing better than to abuse or even kill someone of a different race. It is disturbing that such a conversation occurs when their sons are young. As a parent, you see this young, innocent face and dread telling them that there are evil people in this world.

We must teach our daughters to be vigilant about predators and people who might harm them at a young age. We have to inform them that the predator might be someone they know. Our role is to keep them safe. It isn't easy because you know you're changing their innocent perception of the world, but the message is always the same. No one has a right to touch them; sometimes, the perpetrator starts slowly by befriending them. They must tell the other person that whatever they try is not okay and quickly get away from them.

We have to share with them that sometimes girls or women feel shame about being touched inappropriately. They think that somehow they brought it on themselves. We have to repeatedly reassure them that it isn't their fault, and they must seek someone they trust, hopefully a parent, about what happened.

Most importantly, they have to know we will always love them. No matter what.