Dixie

When I was a senior in high school, I needed some extra credits, so I took a woodshop class, which consisted of all male students, with me being the only female. Mr. M also taught a photography class and at one point as he was instructing us about some kind or other of woodworking tools, he somehow got on the subject of photography. He gave me a creepy look and asked if I’d be willing to allow him to take some pictures of me, Hee hee, wink-wink and all that. In front of the other students.

I felt sick inside, even though he didn’t use any profane words or say anything technically “inappropriate,” the way he said it, the way he emphasized the words and leered, could really only be taken one way. And I just sat there, while all (male) eyes bored into me. It was humiliating, embarrassing, and I was the one feeling ashamed, as if I’d done anything but be a female of the species, and the only one in the room.