Nobody can have missed the fact that the hashtag me too has gone absolutely bananas of the chart during the past week. Starting small it’s become a viral hurricane, a typhoon of emotions.
And I don’t know how I feel about it.
Well, with no doubt whatsoever I know and feel that persons who commit sexual harassment or crime should be punished. I’m not sure how I feel about the public punishment, but as it seems at this stage this is the only way to get to the perpetrators, so be it. I am also sure this is a call and a cleansing long needed so from that perspective, I admire the hashtagers. For standing up, for being the voices.
But it makes you think, right? Which is likely the best part of it.
It makes me for one think about my own situation. And I think and feel I cannot really be an active part, because I don’t have the experience. Or do I? Am I fooling myself, not seeing what is there, or not judging happenings like they should be judged? Am I in fact so thoroughly part of the devious scheme?
I remember once, in a bar setting, a guy who was a friend of my then boy friend said to me matter of factly that had I not been in a relation with my boy friend, his friend, “the two of us would surely have had sex?”. Maybe that’s an example. But I didn’t feel sexually harrassed, I just felt impressed by his stupidity.
So, I think it’s not always a matter of exactly what happened, it’s a matter of the way it happened. If you feel harassed, you are. If you feel violated, you are. And I didn’t, so I wasn’t.
I cannot and I don’t want to talk about the victims, they’ve had enough anyway. But I still want to speak up and say that I think that persons who commit sexual harassment or crimes are bad people. Low people. Despicable people. And they are most often men. Men with no respect for women. And I really really want to direct the light to them.
So, in the voice of my Queenie, or Queen Aretha, hashtag #R-E-S-P-E-C-T.