#ME TOO
I entered high school when I was still 13. I stood 4'11", weighed 98 pounds, and had a baby face. The Johnny Cash song “Life Ain’t Easy for a Boy Named Sue” resonates with my experience.
I attended for my first two high school years a Jesuit institution in downtown Los Angeles, and commuted on the bus from the west side of town. Because our financial circumstances were such that I turned my after school work salary over to my mother and didn’t get an allowance, I manufactured a bit of spending money by hitch hiking home after school on Olympic Blvd to save bus fare.
On a regular basis, I got picked up by gay men who hit on me, sometimes very aggressively. A hand would land on my thigh or crotch. The first few times I panicked, but I got on to it. I’d play along until the next red light and then jump out of the car. The highlight of my groping history has a major ironic component. In the days of my youth, the Catholic Church was a film critic. Something called the Legion of Decency rated films. Mother was insistent that I see only films with their highest stamp of approval. One such was Cecil B. DeMille’s “The Ten Commandments”. The epoch was so long, there was an intermission. After the intermission, I reseated myself in the balcony. As the lights dimmed, I was pinned in a major grope by a large guy in the next seat. I let our a loud noise of some kind, wiggled free and fled. As a result, I missed some of the commandments.
What did I learn from those experiences? I learned that a small minority of gay men lust after adolescent boys, a lesson the Catholic Church should have learned long ago. Was I scarred by the experience? A psychiatrist might disagree, but I don’t think so. I was also traumatized by being bullied and beat up in grammar school and high school. I was frightened when I got shot at in Vietnam. My sainted mother beat me on a regular basis when my behavior displeased her. I believe that all of those experiences impacted my psyche in a salutary fashion. I have a higher level of resilience as a result.
I am not trying to discount the ME TOO movement. I find the use of power to extract sexual favors or cover sexual misconduct abhorrent. Every woman should tell her story. Every man who engaged in that behavior should be shamed and punished.
There are, however, some caveats. I have been in two situations where allegations of sexual misconduct were patently false and nothing more than simple blackmail. In one case, it worked. The hearing officer simply ignored documentary evidence. Not every accusation is true. Those making accusations should provide some corroboration if it exists. We should not abandon the presumption of innocence or due process. There are gradations of guilt. Groping and inappropriate language are not rape. Those in positions of power should suffer harsher punishment. They have sinned twice — sexual misconduct and abuse of power.
We should also face life the way it is. If I had wanted to avoid the chicken hawks on Olympic, I could have spent the money on bus fare. Young women who show up at alcohol soaked fraternity parties should wear their iron underwear and track shoes. Women who get drunk in those situations are not acting prudently. Hung over remorse is not the same as sexual assault.
My experience leads me to advise anyone who has been the victim of sexual misconduct to tell their truth and then get on with life. If someone can be fired or jailed, so much the better. If not, use the experience as a tool for emotional growth. I believe it is true that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
