She's Still My Daughter

"Safe Haven" - Eng Tay

I will warn you now that this post has language in it that is offensive.  I debated whether to edit it out, but it has it's place in my experience today, and  so I have chosen to leave it in.

Last night I saw the movie North Country. It is based on a true story, and is one of the most disturbing portrayals of sexual harassment and abuse of every kind that I have ever seen. It is also a story of courage, determination and redemption of relationships.

There is a scene in which Charlize Theron's character is addressing a predominantly male crowd at a union meeting. She is unwelcome. She is being booed and yelled at and verbally abused. Her father, also an employee and union member, is at the meeting. At this point in the story, he has stood by silently as his daughter and the other female employees have been repeatedly sexually harassed on the work site. He has gone as far as to act like the victim, insisting that his daughters' determination has brought nothing but shame and embarrassment to him. As she tries to speak above the yelling, her father stands up and joins her at the microphone.  What he says next was one of the most profoundly beautiful moments of this movie.

He reminds the men that at company picnics and family functions, no one speaks to any of the wives or daughters in an abusive or derogatory way. There is no name calling. No harassment of any kind. But then they come to work, and something changes. Something in them changes. 

But, he said, she's still  my daughter.

I have been thinking about this idea for a long time. As I have been spending more time learning about the sex trade, entering into relationship with women who are caught in it, I have realized that the first step for any of us in addressing this issue is to begin to see each of these women as they were first created. Someone's daughter. Someone's wife, partner. Someone's mother. A sister. A friend.  Seeing a stranger with eyes of grace, redemption, hope, compassion requires that we have eyes that see ourselves and each other in that stranger.

Today, I had one of the most horrible experiences of my life.  I was shopping with Jen. I was driving. I stopped on the road, put my signal on and waited for the street parking spot that was about to become available. The person leaving the spot was taking his time. A few cars were gathering behind me. Parking was at a premium and it was raining sideways, so I decided to wait for the spot. Someone honked. I motioned for them to go around me. Across the street, a well-dressed man was getting into his SUV and began to pull out of his spot to go in the opposite direction. The street was narrow enough that as he pulled out of his spot his vehicle was parallel to mine. I was not in his way, he was not blocked from driving in any way. He then rolled down his window and said this. "You're causing a fucking line of traffic, you cunt".  I think he repeated it. As he drove away I rolled down my window, said "excuse me?" and yelled at him to watch his mouth.

I don't know how to describe how I felt. I was enraged. My heart was pounding and I had so much adrenalin pumping through me that I felt like I was on fire. I found myself looking around the street for him. I knew that if I saw him I would have been in his face in a second. I felt assaulted, like someone had slapped my face. I was shocked. I felt degraded. But mostly I felt deep, deep anger.

Who talks like that?? Who speaks like that to a stranger? To anyone? I haven't been able to stop thinking about that man today. I wonder how it would feel to put himself back into that moment, and instead of seeing a stranger, seeing his wife or his daughter or his sister. I wonder how he would feel to have his wife come home, enraged and in tears, having to tell him that another man referred to her as a "cunt". I wonder if he would have the same look on his face as my husband did today.

If even for a brief second, I think I was given a glimpse into something much bigger than that moment on the street today. And I hated it.

I want to have eyes that never, ever see just a stranger. And I, too, want to be seen.

Comments

[robert]

That was assault, plain and simple assault. Just this week, I sent your husband a comedy clip of George Carlin "The 7 words you can never say on television" which is basically a piece mocking our mores and sensitivities to certain words. He makes the point that words are just words and that being appalled or offended by them is silly. He goes on to say the thoughts or intentions behind a word may be bad but the word itself is just a word. I tend to agree and thought the piece was genius but your experience shows how words can be used as weapons, scarring weapons. This should never have happened. I'm sorry this happened to you.

[leslie]

I often wonder if it makes people feel better to talk to others like this. I wonder if he gave it a second thought, laughed about it or felt any remorse at all.

I would be constantly thinking about it too. Sorry you had to deal with that.

[bobbie]

oh sarah, thank you for including the language - it's much more powerful. i am sorry you had to endure such horrible treatment. words can be weapons. this kind of male seems to think of women as only body parts - he probably treats all women the women in his life like urinals. the instant rage he expressed over something so incidental is truly shocking.

it makes me sad for the females in his life - what horror he must pour out on them in day to day life.

thanks for the tip on the movie, sounds like a must see.

[stephanie]

I too have appreciated seeing movies recently that are strong social justice messages.
Your experience was horrifying! As Robert said - this is a clear assault. Does that man even wear any shame in knowing he assaulted a woman? I am enraged by his conduct but also by the fact that he gets away with it!
Thank you for writing about this - it needs to be addressed.
I love how your heart sees the women of the DTES as named, belonging in relationship with community and how much you give them in what you are doing.

[lynne]

What Robert said: yup assault for sure
What Leslie said: I'm sorry you had to hear that too
Bobbie: I like the urinal analogy, that's what it is.
Steph: I too love how the women of DTES are given love, honor and a name.
Sarah: my heart was pounding as I read the post. Not sure if it's because I was so mad that he would say it, or more that such an angel should have to hear it.

[Cathie]

My heart is pounding now too. I felt like it was being said to me. Kind of like - "if you have done it to the least of these...you have done it to me". I continue to try and teach my boys that words have power and when they occasionally say something that is inappropriate I pray that they will understand and will one day grow to be men who will treat women and speak to them as they should be spoken to. Peace to you today, Sarah. Cathie

[Connie Knighton]

Dear Sue,
Rob and I were going to watch North Country last night but I couldn't handle the theme...just then. Some other time, I thought. Then this morning, I got time to read a few blogs and here you were writing about it. And writing about your experience of abuse, which came, suddenly, out of the blue, in the midst of what must have been, I assume, an otherwise pleasant day, despite the rain.
And I thought...abuse doesn't happen when we are feeling 'up to it.' Abuse is a gratuitous explosion of feelings and actions inflicted, often, when a victim could not anticipate it or prepare for it. And always, abuse happens when a victim is powerless to avoid it. I wonder if the helpless rage one feels when trapped by an abuser hurts more than a fist in the face. Dear God.
Bless you for the work you do. Bless you for the understanding this post creates.
Love,