Why is it acceptable that there exists a community of female journalists trained to suppress their reactions to inappropriate and offensive behavior? Why do we normalize feeling uncomfortable, objectified, or even sexually harassed as if it’s simply a job requirement?
It’s disheartening that a standard orientation at a broadcasting station includes not just a welcome but also a can of pepper spray and warnings about certain “dangerous individuals.” I’m frustrated with the cycle of dismissing these issues. The #MeToo movement has opened my eyes to my complicity; by not confronting immoral actions, I inadvertently endorse them.
As I look at my young son, I am committed to nurturing him to be courteous, kind, and respectful towards women. I want him to understand that we are resilient and independent, and that we will advocate for ourselves and each other. However, I am aware that he is growing up in a world rife with temptations and negative role models. From the minefield of sexual content on social media to easily accessible adult material, he will encounter messages that contradict my values.
Today, I am setting aside my fears of seeming overzealous, pledging to discuss the implications of #MeToo openly. When he is old enough and the moment arises, we will have these vital conversations. Will they be awkward? Certainly. Yet, I believe it’s crucial for young men to hear about sexual harassment from someone they trust—ideally, me. If he ever finds himself in a troubling situation or feels victimized, he needs to know I’m here to listen and that speaking up is always acceptable.
Throughout my ten years in television news, I’ve been fortunate to largely avoid severe harassment. Unfortunately, many of my colleagues have not had the same luck. Some have been compelled to file restraining orders or seek police intervention after receiving an overwhelming number of disturbing messages daily. Did you know that local TV anchors rank among the most stalked individuals? This is an unintended result of our efforts to seem approachable. An article from Psychology Today elaborates on this phenomenon.
I often referenced my marriage to deflect unwanted advances, presenting myself as “taken” to deter attention. However, I want my son to recognize that even non-criminal harassment can be damaging and may lead to more serious issues.
Being in the public eye does not grant anyone the right to cross boundaries. For example, when I share a nostalgic photo from my cheerleading days, it doesn’t give someone the license to send graphic messages about what they want me to do while wearing that outfit. If I turn away after an interview, crude comments like “nice ass” or “nice rack” should never be viewed as compliments. And I certainly won’t cater to anyone’s fantasies by sending pictures of my feet.
Harassment can occur even in the most public settings. I gathered stories from fellow broadcasters, and while I will protect their identities, their experiences resonate deeply. One described an unsettling encounter at a business expo where a man cornered her, invading her personal space and sharing a disturbing fantasy. Another incident occurred at a charity event where a man made lewd comments about her attire as she prepared for a dunk tank, leaving her feeling horrified yet trapped by her commitments.
The online environment is no safer. “Silent harassment” on social media is pervasive among broadcasters. Many experience daily attacks while simply doing their jobs. It’s acceptable to express discontent with the media, but that should never descend into derogatory name-calling. I want my son to understand that a screen does not shield one from accountability; if it’s not something you would say face-to-face, it should not be said online.
Most viewers I have encountered have been wonderful, and I cherish many of those relationships. Yet, it’s unfortunate that a few bad experiences can overshadow the positive interactions and continue to perpetuate a toxic cycle.
As one of my former colleagues pointed out, television personalities are expected to be polite and accommodating, often wearing smiles in response to disrespectful comments. However, the #MeToo movement has empowered many of us to reconsider that approach. We are stronger together, more assertive, and willing to stand up against verbal attacks.
While some days I still opt to simply smile and nod, I often find myself responding authentically when faced with an offensive remark, much to the shock of the offender. I truly hope this wave of empowerment persists. It’s time we stop brushing off our collective experiences, no matter how minor they may seem. By ignoring harassment, we only perpetuate its existence.
To my beloved son, remember this:
- The individuals you see on television are real people with feelings.
- Compliments should stem from kindness, not objectification.
- A woman’s attire never justifies unwanted attention or harassment.
- A warm greeting or genuine inquiry is the best way to start a conversation.
- If you’re uncertain how your words will be received, it’s wise to refrain from speaking.
- Trust your instincts; if something feels off, it probably is.
- And when in doubt, ask your mother. I love you and will always share the truth with you.
In conclusion, as we navigate this complex world, it’s essential to foster respect, understanding, and communication about issues that matter. It’s never too early to start these conversations, and the lessons learned will serve as a foundation for his interactions with others.