I remember his name. I would never say it here. That is a function of appropriate behavior, which I hope I exercise, and I know – he did not.
My teacher would call me sweetheart; worse, it was the way he looked at me, and then came too close. The way he touched, or did I only imagine it?
I was 12 or 13. I wore my hair long, usually straight and loose. Sometimes I pulled it to the side in a pony tail or braid, tied with brightly colored yarn. It was a style that was popular though I didn’t wear it often; for one thing, he would corner me as the class was filing out, then lift the tip of the braid, making some sort of a remark.
Or he would stare. Saying nothing at all.
Occasionally, his fingers would brush my breasts. My discomfort told me this was a violation, but school itself was pressure enough. I needed to stay focused. To ignore whatever “this” was. In any case I had no words for it, and no specific instruction in disallowing it.
He was a beefy man with a shock of silver hair. He had a sharp edge to his manner, and scowled when he was displeased. He wore spectacles typical of the 1950s though this was the late 60s, and his authority was never questioned.
Inappropriate Touch
This was a time before sexual harassment. This was a time before sexual anything was openly discussed, much less the evolution of our insistence on (excessively?) politically correct language and its enforcement.
This was about discomfort, approaching a boundary, never transgressing – or so I thought – but nonetheless leaving me vulnerable and unsettled.
Isn’t that in itself a transgression?
Now I wonder if I was the only one with whom he crossed this line. If there were others. If he did more than touch their hair or brush their breasts.
Terms of Endearment
Some have called me sweetheart and I’ve been irritated. Some have called me honey, and I’ve hated that. Any number of cute names may be exchanged between family members or intimate partners, and no problem. But out in the world?
I give that a big, fat no. It’s out of the question, in my opinion. And the only way to stop it is to put a stop to it. To speak up.
But do kids and teenagers try to do just that? Don’t we still send our children mixed messages in the life skills we teach – telling them to protect themselves and their personal space, but not to talk back or disrespect their elders?
And what about women who say sweetheart to a child? Or men, for that matter, because it’s what comes naturally and it genuinely means nothing at all? How do we know the difference?
The Diminutive Dear
I am on the receiving end of “dear” from time to time by those who are older, or who presume to be my elders. To me it feels diminishing rather than diminutive, and I think this is the so-called term of en-dear-ment which annoys me the most.
It carries with it the weight of the 50s generation – mid-century mores and generational entitlement. The sort of “kids should be seen and not heard” attitude which, no doubt, was part of my confusion when my teacher came too close, allowing himself to touch my hair. Invading my personal space, and leaving me paralyzed.
I couldn’t say anything.
I didn’t dare say anything.
Appropriate Space
In our various environments we may use the same terms with one person and they are amused or delighted; with another, we may offend. Context matters. An individual’s experience matters.
I find political correctness to be both a burden and a step in an appropriate direction. It nibbles on our freedoms, but it strives to ensure respect. And more – the sanctity of that sense of personal space.
In our private lives what we call each other is the business of individual transactions; I will determine if the use of a term offends me, and I will determine if I can – or should – take exception to it.
As adults, we pick our battles.
Language and Co-Workers
When dealing with language and behaviors in the work place, we find ourselves in land of sexual harassment policies, company policies, and the unwritten rules of engagement that make sense in a particular professional setting.
I recall being on a team some years back in which the jokes flew along with sexual innuendo and language that might offend some; we were all having a great time and when the propriety police cracked down, it impinged on the nature of our interactions. Everything was less fun.
Obviously, we adjusted. Ironically, had there been use of terms like dear and honey – that would’ve been fine (albeit an eyebrow might have been raised depending on the scenario), but it wouldn’t have been fine with me.
Teaching Kids What to Say and What to Hear
How do we even begin to teach our children what to say and how to interpret what they hear?
- How do we teach our boys what they cannot do or say, even in jest?
- How do we teach boys and girls both to tell us about anything that makes them uncomfortable?
- How do we not restrict natural speech patterns in the process?
- Who gets to draw the line?
As for my own experience when I was 12, I counted the days until the end of the year when I would no longer have to worry, to feel embarrassed, to feel – somehow – belittled. I never spoke up. I wouldn’t have know what to say, nor to whom I could have said it.
© D A Wolf
Ugh, that is just awful!!!! I’m sick to hear that and sorry; it is a shame that children have to deal with this and really outrages me.
I was at work, when this happened to me and I reported it to my dept head and she encouraged me to sweep it under the carpet and she would just talk to him. I was like 20 years old, but I remember feeling, that wasn’t enough.
I have worried about this subject with my own son, what he can say and not say and do and not do and what would happen if anyone did anything to him. All I can do is teach him the boundaries and teach him what to say if someone were to violate those boundaries. I tell him, there are NO secrets and you tell me anything and everything.
You know – I’ve only thought of this behavior a few times over the years, and it never went beyond sensing that some boundary was crossed and being both creeped out and somewhat intimidated. I was also very aware that this man held the power to give me lower grades if I got on his bad side (and as an A student, that was important to me, even then).
It is only as an adult woman and a parent that I realize how utterly inappropriate the behavior was – the looking, and the brief moments of physical contact in particular.
It sounds like you have covered it with your son, bleu. But when kids get older, they sometimes hesitate to “tell all.”
It’s so hard to know what is the right amount of vigilance (especially as pertains to language; I think actions are a bit easier). I also worry about our going overboard with so-called political correctness. I do realize that some use terms like “sweetheart” and “dear” with absolutely no intent to dismiss, but to me, the terms remain dismissive.
(How do you handle terms of endearment in your household?)
As a man I am very aware of these things and have been concerned about what I can or can’t say. It is irritating for us too because it sometimes feels like there are handcuffs upon us.
In work environments I am cautious about what I say to women. I have friends who are attorneys who advise us never to compliment women on anything that be misconstrued. That means don’t say you like her hair or her outfit. Don’t say you look good today etc.
All of these are things that women can say to men without the same concerns that we have. That is not to suggest that this is any sort of a competition or that what you said is invalid because it is.
It is just a comment on what it sometimes feels like on the other side.
I really get your point, Jack. In fact, when I was working on an all-male team (for a number of years) – very long hours, and very productively – the language and joking that we all indulged in was completely acceptable to all of us. Perhaps it’s a matter of context and how well you know the people you’re talking to. Personally, I find the “no compliments” policy to be an example of that fine line that must be hard to walk for men. I love a compliment! But the same words from one man, offered as a pleasant remark, are received very differently in another tone, and from a manager.
One never knows what will offend others in language, but I think the rules on touch are well defined. Back then though, I think this would be a lose, lose situation for both parties. Now I think in most places it would be handled very succinctly and quickly. These are sad things that most of us are not equipped to handle.
I often think pretty girls have it the worst, but my brother, who was considered so cute that he was called upon to be a ring bearer in many weddings, has told me stories that made my hair stand on end. So being an obnoxious, pointy-headed kid probably protected me from much of that.
It is clearly a power issue…who has power over you and how powerful you personally feel. It becomes a gender issue in the larger context of which gender has traditionally held more power in a particular situation but as we sadly see, the teacher/ student scenario has been played out with opposite casting many times. Women are more on edge because women often feel less powerful.
I think you state it beautifully, Jeanne.
Mistreatment of children is particularly upsetting because they are so vulnerable. We must encourage them with the “open and honest” approach that I feel is so important, while at the same time recognizing that they can readily misinterpret things. Offhand I can think of two cases similar to what you describe, and I also know of one or two that were misinterpreted and as a result produced danger in the other direction. Perhaps surprisingly, the two women now consider this sort of childhood experience a part of growing up, although confusing at the time. Others would not respond this way.
Note that, like you, I am not talking about the types of child abuse that we more frequently read about. Was on a jury case last year of a child molester. A tough jury to be on (100% graphic, with lots of emotion and crying), and because the case seemed clear to all of us, we put him away for many years,
As an adult, I ALWAYS leave my office door ajar with students. Occasionally a girl has wished to close the door, and I have had to set it ajar. A time or two I have felt at a loss that I could not give a comforting hug or touch.
I think we all realize, Paul, that there are times when simply putting a hand on someone’s arm or shoulder would be an act of kindness or empathy or consolation. And here is where the situation blurs, and most of the time, is a shame. You are restricted from the very sort of comfort that can be most healing, for fear of your job, and also, that it might be misinterpreted.
‘Honey’ still raises my hackles. I too had a teacher, who should have known better, crept right up to the line, but never quite crossed it. I mean the line everyone would say is too far – he certainly made me uncomfortable. But what could I say? He looked at me? He talked to me? Yes, of course, he should talk to his students and how could he not look at them….
I think it’s important to react calmly and meaningfully to what our kids tell us. Twice my daughter has reported incidents to me, twice (with her present as she wanted) I confronted the problem and found solutions (both were fairly minor preschool things involving misunderstandings). I was relieved that these we minor in my head, but they upset my girl. And, if your kid is upset by it, it doesn’t matter if it is ‘normal’ and doesn’t bother anyone else. Its not okay.
What a terrible thing to go through as a child. I was doing just fine until you mentioned the paralysis. I recall it too well.
As for terms of endearment from other than my husband … it always depends on my perception of how it was intended. If in doubt, a smiling “Excuse me?” usually clears things up.
Glad you’re talking about this here, BLW. In high school, a teacher called me a “China doll”, repeatedly made me feel uncomfortable with lavish attention and even wrote me a letter telling me how I reminded him of his deceased wife. I couldn’t address the first two without simply seeming overly sensitive, but I turned in the letter to the principal without needing to say much more.
First of all, I am so very sorry about what happened. It must have been agonizing especially since there were really no alternatives.
I agree with you on your description of political correctness: it’s a necessary burden. Of course in the corporate culture, there is still this pressure on women to not be “so uptight” “can’t take a joke”… ugh.
I am sorry you had that experience with your teacher. I had a similar experience with a few teachers who approached the line and were a little short of crossing it. In high school, a friend of a friend experienced a sexual harassment at the hands of one particular male teacher. He was later terminated immediately. It was unfortunate and I wonder how many other victims were a part of his grasp. He was a popular teacher with much popular appeal.
I’m sorry you had a creeper as your teacher. In literature he might be a darkly pithy Humbert Humbert, but in a real classroom with a real child he’s a pedophile. Perhaps, probably, the creeper needs compassion and treatment, but the importance of basic trust and protection for kids early on is a huge factor in arming them to know who is safe and who is not. Predators are always testing limits, and your freeze response to his inappropriate behavior subtly cued him that he could get away with this (and no more). You may be right to worry if others, those with more disrupted attachment might have been drawn even further into his snare. This also reminded me of the gym teacher insisting we take nude soap showers and him watching us and marking us off on his clipboard… and to think of the astronomical numbers of kids who are abused to some degree or other… so the march of compassionate awareness and effective protection is also the march to a better world. Still, I’m sorry you had to go through that (I’ve heard so much of this in my career, and the shame and confusion and anger that lingers long after the perpetrator is dead).
I smell a novel here, BLW.
One story. As a medical student, one of the things you must learn to do is a pelvic exam. We were cautioned that whenever we performed the exam during our medical career, a chaperone, usually a nurse, should be present. The chaperone was so important that the dean of our school made a little speech about it. “The chaperone is not there to protect the patient,” he said, “The chaperone is there to protect you.”