anger

Beatrice Casini

In college(Bradley University in Peoria, Illinois, circa 1991) when I was a sophomore, I often had multiple colleagues over to my apartment on campus (Student Apartment Complex) to study and chat. The apartment had two rooms and I had two female roommates and all of us were usually in attendance in the evenings. Sometimes folks would fall asleep, including me, when I was tired, trusting that those who remained awake would hang out and then let themselves out when they were ready. One night, I was lying down with my eyes closed (I can’t remember if I was asleep and was woken up by the incident or if I was drifting when it began; This is the first time I am attempting to write this down, over 30 years later.) What I DO know is that my breasts suddenly were being caressed by a male student. The touching was absolutely unwanted and I was instantly fully awake and aware of it. No one had asked me anything and there certainly was nothing of a remotely sexual nature going on beforehand – indeed, I am sure said student was certain that I was asleep and that his actions were being unobserved. I was horrified, deeply uncomfortable, shocked, scared, frozen… My panicked heart was beating fast…and I kept my eyes closed and pretended to be asleep until he stopped. I remember doing the fake sound-and-slightly-change-position thing to try and get them to naturally stop…but that didn’t work. For decades, I didn’t tell anyone. I now understand all the societal cues that conspire to teach girls and women “not to make a fuss”, to be embarassed by calling something like that out or engaging with a perpetrator, etc, etc. I knew who the person was. They were my peer, in my major, for years afterward (though I was always uncomfortable around them after that.) I never confronted or told them about it nor did I tell anyone else until decades later (only two people and with no specificity.) I know who they are. They live abroad in Dublin with a wife and children and can often be seen engaging in very intellectual, high-minded style commentary on social media. Every time I see that it makes me a little sick inside. For a long time, I put it on the back burner of my mind and said “No big deal” but, over the years, I have to admit, its bothered me more and more…and more. Now it makes me mad. The whole enormously tiny incident is so indicative of the casual pervasiveness of everyday sexual assault and my choice to let it go and let him off the hook, not only in the moment, but for decades afterward is heartbreaking to the woman I am now and women everywhere. I still know who it is and have a casual connection to his reality via Facebook. He dated my best friend back in the day. He has a family and is probably a decent person fella. So what. I have wanted to say out loud for a very long time that “nice”, “mild-mannered”, “sweet”, “generous”, “upright”, “thoughtful” [redacted by administrator] sexually assaulted me in college, got away with it and has made no effort to make amends to someone he supposedly likes. He has not ever acknowledged his deed in any way or apologized to me. I believe I have forgiven him but I had to do that work by myself and for myself with no effort from him and that sucked. He probably thinks we are friends to this day. We are not.

Marie

I had been working there for 1 year. That man, Georges, was only part-time at the office…around 60 years old. I did not know him very well, but some of my female co-workers had already talked about him staring at their breasts and that sort of things. One day, I was at the photocopier, in the hall, and he got behind me. I noticed him, but made no case. Strangely, I knew something was going to happen and I was wondering what. First thing I knew, he was slapping my bum (gently) with a rolled up sheet of paper, saying “Good morning!”. I turned around, my face burning with anger and said loud enough for everybody in the hall to hear: “Not too self-conscious, this morning, Mr. Georges, are you?” He muttered something and kept his head down. No one around looked like they were aware of what had happened. Everything carried on as usual. But I was proud of myself and made sure to tell my story to each of my co-workers who had a similar experience with that man. I no longer work there. Hope Georges reviewed his old-fashioned way to consider and treat women. But what’s important is the strength I gained.

Jess

A friend and I were out to get a drink around 7 pm one evening. Not thinking about our clothing choices, we both headed downtown with the crops tops we had been wearing that day. We were stopped by a few men sitting outside the bar, who told us how pretty we were…etc etc. As soon as we started to walk away I heard one say (and I quote) “wrap it up twice for those two”. Men we had never met before, assuming our consent and sexual history based on our clothing choices. I’m angry everyday.

Laura

I was out for a run this evening, enjoying the warm sunny weather. I am training for a marathon so I’m out running most evenings and I have met plenty of pleasant people. Unfortunately this evening I was passed by two ignorant men in a red transit van who beeped the horn at me as I was waiting to cross the road. One of them shouted “GIVE US A SMILE SEXY”. All I could do was gesture at them but they couldn’t meet my eye. Why do some men think this is acceptable or entertaining? I was so angry because I am working hard to achieve something and yet because I am a woman I was made to feel self-conscious and even slightly ashamed of my body.