MY STORY OF SHAME

Every time he pointed his finger at her and said, "You should be ashamed of yourself" (which was multiple times), I cringed and my heart sank like a stone.  I felt myself folding in on my myself, like a child punished for a wrong I barely understood or never even committed.  Shame.  What a powerful and destructive emotion to carry.

Last night's Presidential Debate was a spectacle unprecedented in American politics, as were the events leading up to it.  History can record (it's all on video) the onslaught of disgusting and reprehensible words of the Republican candidate for president in 2016 throughout this campaign.  I won't repeat the litany.  But last Friday, a videotape was released wherein he uses vulgar language about women and boasts about his conquests, saying "when you're a star, you can do anything."   He admitted to being a sexual predator and committing assault.  Of course, now he says he never did it, it was just "locker room banter."  His big defense is to accuse President Bill Clinton (who's own sexual escapades were litigated 20 years ago) of doing much worse, and then showed up at the debate with women who have accused Bill Clinton of assault to throw Hillary off her game.  Classy move.  Punishing Hillary for what her husband did.  Yes, women need to take responsibility and be punished for the behavior of their partners, I forgot.

All of this has brought up a long-buried incident in my own life.  I was 25, working at the medical center where Hub was in medical school.  My boss, 22 years my senior, was a renowned professor, foreign-born, urbane, and demanding (but with a smarmy smile that belied his cruelty).  I was a secretary; actually I was more like a "clerk", my immediate supervisor was the secretary.  I made coffee and typed and answered phones.    I thought myself mature and savvy; but I was no match for him and looking back I see I was naive and timid.   

He often had me come into his office to "take dictation", but he spent a lot of time critiquing me, trying to help me be more sophisticated.  He offered suggestions on clothing, make up, hair, and one time he told me not to move my face so much because it would create wrinkles.  He asked personal questions about my marriage and offered helpful hints for a "good relationship".  I listened uncomfortably, tried to laugh it off (without moving my face) and was relieved when I was excused to go back to my desk.  (Think "Mad Men" -- those were the days when this type of thing was commonplace and not "reportable".)  

One day he asked if I would be a participant in a study he was doing on a new type of stethoscope.  I said I would.  He stood up and locked his door, so we wouldn't be interrupted and he could concentrate, he said.  He then proceeded to lean in and listen to my heart, so close to my face I could smell and feel his breath on me.  Then he said he needed to test it on the femoral artery.  This is located in the groin area.  Why I didn't run from that room then and there is a mystery to me.  I felt trapped.  I felt intimidated and I felt like I would NOT behave like a scared rabbit.  I was trying to be strong.  He asked me to lower my slacks just a bit so he could access the area.  I did.  He asked me to slouch down in my chair.  I did.  He placed the stethoscope just so and listened, taking notes on a yellow legal pad.  Then he said he had what he wanted and told me I could go.

I was shaken.  I was sick to my stomach.  I did tell my supervisor and she was sympathetic, but helpless to do anything.  We agreed I didn't have to go to his office alone anymore and she would run interference for me.  (Some time later, she told me the study was legit and he got other subjects to participate, but no part of the process involved the femoral artery.)

Not long afterward he insisted on taking me out to lunch at a fancy restaurant in downtown Chicago to thank me for a project I'd completed for him.  I don't know why I agreed to go; maybe to not let him intimidate me; maybe to try to overcome the shame I felt in his presence.  I had toughened up with him and likely felt I could "handle" him at this point.  So I went.  Lunch was fine, although he criticized the outfit I chose to wear that day.  Afterward he said he had taken a room at a hotel for the weekend to get some work done away from his family and he needed to pick up some paperwork there to take back to the office.  I was trapped.  Once in the room, he lay down on the bed and encouraged me to sit near him.  I refused.  He told me he loved me, over and over.   I told him he was crazy and I wanted to leave.  He reached out to touch me, and I rebuked him.  I told him I would scream if he tried to touch me again.  He became angry, told me I was acting like a child.  He grabbed his briefcase and headed for the door.  I followed.  In the taxi ride back to the office I ignored him, wouldn't answer his questions, or respond to his benign comments.  He acted as if nothing had happened.  Finally, in anger, he told me I should thank him, because now I knew the depth of my commitment to my marriage, having been "tested".  

I told my supervisor and another doctor in the department who I liked and trusted, a good man.  But he did nothing.  Within a month I left to go to work in another department for a kind, respectful, and caring doctor who I still admire to this day.  

Shame.  Writing about this (I've actually only told a handful of people about these incidents since they happened around 1975) makes me so sad for that naive young woman, so sad for there being no place to go with my story at the time.  Was I a willing participant?  I guess so...if an older man in a position of power taking advantage of an obviously naive young woman defines "willing".  I relate to Monica Lewinsky in this regard, so yeah, Bill was definitely an asshole in that respect.  I've heard she's felt ashamed too of her naivety.  Shame makes you want to hide.  Shame makes you hate yourself for who you are, not what you've done, or what was done to you.  It's soul destroying.

So, when a 59 year old man (his age when the video was made in 2005) says the things he said about women he's tried to seduce and/or grope without their consent, that is a man who objectifies, feels entitled, and is absolutely unrepentant and uncaring.  He is a shame-making machine.  He is dangerous.  And he is running for president of the United States.  If there is shame to be felt, I wish it would start with him.  But it won't.  In fact, he shamelessly trotted out women (who he was using for his own means) to humiliate Hillary and then pointed the "shame on you" finger at her.

Too many women have stories like mine to tell.  Every woman has been objectified in some way at some time.  All women must rise up and keep fighting this fucking shit.  Vote as if your life depended on it.

At least, that's the view from here...©