Navigating Armitage

Yesterday, my friend Guylty wrote a brave post to share some of her past experiences with sexual harassment. She also invited her readers to follow her example if they wanted to do the same. Thus, I’ve decided to write about my own. However, I don’t have access to old photographs to accompany the stories. Sorry!

The Back Room

My mother’s favorite cousin lived in a small town an hour away from us. Her husband owned the only food market there and was a successful businessman, respected and admired by his community for his kind demeanor and honesty. My parents would visit them twice a month and buy their groceries from them.

I remember the first time as if it were yesterday. My father was holding my hand when we walked into the market. I was wearing a pretty dress, Mary Jane shoes and bobby socks with lace on the edges. “Uncle” C saw us come in and came over to greet us. He asked my father, “Why don’t you leave her with me so she can help me sell candy to my customers?”. After a moment of silence my father asked me, “Would you like to stay here with your “Uncle”? I said yes. So, he went upstairs to join my mother and her cousin’s family.

Fascinated by all the items on the shelves, I let the man hold my hand and take me over to the front counter, where he grabbed me by the waist and lifted me up to put me next to the glass jars of penny candy. He let me choose one (I picked the cherry flavored hard candy that looked like a flower) and said he’d be right back. I sat there sucking my treat while he went and locked the store’s entrance.

He came back and stood facing me. “Do you like your candy?” “Uh-huh”, said I. He kept talking to me and suddenly began to unzip his fly. Then he put his hand on my thigh and…you can imagine the rest. While he was doing this, he kissed me so I wouldn’t spit out the piece of candy and scream for my parents. I was crying. Once he was done, I did take the candy out of my mouth and threw it on the floor. “I’m going to tell my Mommy!” He grabbed me by the shoulders and said, “If you tell anyone, I will throw your mother down the stairs and kill her.” I believed him. At the time, I was three years old. After that Saturday, he decided to take me to the store’s back room. The abuse escalated and continued until I was seven. #pervert

The Rock Concert

I was very excited when my parents gave their permission for me to go to the Kansas rock concert with a good friend from the National Honor Society when I was 17. The band was very popular, Dust In The Wind was one of my favorite songs and I felt very grown-up. We had a terrific time until the moment we were walking out of the stadium and a cute boy came out of nowhere and grabbed my crotch. I turned around, ready to punch whoever it was, only to see about seven guys leaning against the wall, laughing at me and blowing kisses. I was livid! My friend got scared and begged me to let it go, even though there were tons of people around – including Security. To my eternal regret, I walked away. #asshat

The Dorm Hallway at the Ivy League University

It was my first Thanksgiving break at the University. I was living at a dorm(itory) building (a.k.a. housing) in the North part of Campus, where I felt safe because it was an “all-girls” dorm. I remember deciding to visit the room of a friend who lived in the same hallway, to see if she wanted to go watch the Macy’s Parade on TV. Knock, knock, knock…I realized she had gone home to Texas for the week. I was about to write a note on her board when a male voice called my name. It was George, her boyfriend. (Mind you, he wasn’t supposed to be there at all because men were not allowed in the building.)

He began to talk to me and suddenly invaded my personal space as if he was about to kiss me. I put on my “don’t you make me hurt you” face and he smiled. “What’s wrong?” I asked him to move back because he had me against the wall. “I want to kiss you.” I said, “That’s not funny. You’re M’s boyfriend and she’s my friend. What are you playing at?” He replied, “C’mon, you know you want it!”

“WHAT? Get out of the building now!” The next thing I knew, he was carrying me under his left arm as if I were a sack of potatoes and kept walking towards my room. I screamed and screamed, but nobody came. Since I had left the door open (thinking myself in a safe place), he went in and threw me on my bed. I used the momentum to bounce right back out of the bed (still have no idea how) and began to scream, “NO, NO, NO, NO!” while I pushed him out the door and locked it. I told him to leave or I’d call Security. He left. I didn’t call because I thought my friend would not believe me and I’d be shunned (she was skinnier than me). #horndog

The Office

My first full-time job was at a company that sold major office equipment, a.k.a., computers, fax machines, photocopiers and postage machines. I was in my early twenties and eager to make a good impression and act like a professional. I was very happy at that small, family-owned place…until he was hired.

The man was a salesman in his 40’s. He was married and had three children. He thought he was all that, with his charm and ‘awesome’ skills of persuasion. I thought he was ancient. At first, he would comment on how nice my outfits or my hair looked. I didn’t like it but I didn’t want to be rude, so I’d say thank you and keep working at whatever I was doing. I thought he’d take the hint and stop.

He didn’t. I’d be typing on my computer (my desk faced the entrance) and he’d sneak behind me like a panther, lean over and ask, “What are you doing?”. I was not amused. When that didn’t work, he decided to escalate things and start rubbing my shoulders. I stood up and faced him. “What is wrong with you?! Do not touch me again. Go away. I’m busy.” He replied, “Don’t be like that. Have dinner with me. I know a really nice restaurant.” My answer? “You’re married and are almost old enough to be my father.” He laughed and said he wouldn’t give up. Of course, I wanted to tell the manager but was afraid he wouldn’t believe me. After all, I didn’t look like a Supermodel; I had curves. So, I kept quiet.

The next week, he approached my desk, extended his hand to show me six pennies and said, “Want to have six with me?”, pronouncing it like “sex”. He was smirking, waiting for my answer, when I noticed his manager coming my way. I played dumb. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t catch that. Would you repeat what you said?” He did, to the astonishment of his boss, who immediately tapped him on the shoulder and said, “In my office – NOW!” He looked at me in panic. I smiled.

Needless to say, his boss yelled at him for a long time, made him apologize and informed me the man would be fired if he ever said anything improper to me again. Problem solved. He never proposition me again. #creep

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If you’re still reading, thank you. Like my friend said in her post, it’s important for us to tell our stories. The time to speak up has come. I hope this helps someone. Please remember that our children need to be taught to respect each other’s bodies; we must teach them about consent. Sexual harassment shouldn’t be what’s “normal”. It’s a travesty, and a crime.