Sexual Harassment ... and that time I dodged a bullet

I have wanted to write about this for a while. I am unsure of why it took me this long to write about it, but here we go...

We should all know what Sexual Harassment means, but in case we don't :

The context doesn't really matter, the UNWANTED is what matters. It doesn't matter if it's from a friend, colleague, boss, or a relative. 

A few years ago I came across a piece done by Amnesty International on sexual violence (incorporating important things like inter-generational sex and rape culture) among women in Jamaica titled Just a Little Sex (click the link to read the report). While, I am not speaking about sexual violence in this post, it is important for us to understand the larger picture within which sexual violence, unwanted sexual advances and other kinds of sexual harassment take place. One phrase mentioned in the report was "gendered discrimination". For these kinds of activities to be perpetuated there must be some sense of entitlement; some sense of "it is okay for me to do this". 

I don't want to get too 'academic' or philosophical, but I have to lay some sort of foundation before I began my story.

Women and girls are victims of sexual harassment daily. The catcalling; the unwanted touching; the lewd remarks; and very explicit explanations from passersby of how "mi woulda f*ck yuh". I want to highlight just two instances from my youth. As in, literally young, I was less than 15 years old. Just so we are aware that this is not limited to grown women. Girls are also victims and generally have less power to respond, fight back, retaliate, or whatever it may be.

So the first incident I want to share with you happened, of all places, at church. I was just getting back into church. We had moved and my mother was not interested in the churches around that area so we stopped going for a while; until my aunt came from abroad and decided she would go to a church near to her and we should sleep over on weekends and attend with her. It was a good set up. Being able to hang out with my cousin all weekend (I would say and my sister, but I had her at home all week), and I made new friends in the area. It was just a good time. I was about  9 /10 at the time (ironically both incidents happened around this age range). 

I was involved in church and would go to regular church service, then Sunday School and then Children's Church (this was held once a month). Needless to say we would be starving when we returned to my aunt's house, but I digress. One Sunday we did our usual rounds, went to the 6:45 service (which I still attend); then we attended  Sunday School and we were gearing up to go to Children Church. The thing with this special children's service is that while it had a big enough crowd, the school (where all the Sunday School classes were held) would be pretty much empty by the time it begun. 

We were sitting, having a good discussion... then I needed to pee. I didn't like using the bathrooms upstairs because the lights never worked and I was still a little afraid of the dark at that time. Anyway, I figured we were the only people in the building so I skipped to the bathroom. On my way back upstairs from the bathroom, I glimpsed a boy. I think he went to my prep school and may have been in a higher grade or had just graduated or something. Anyhow, I didn't say hello because we weren't friends and also because I didn't care to. So I skipped by him and went towards the stairs. As I began to ascend the stairs I felt something on my bottom ... to my surprise, it was his hand. Luckily, I had practiced the art of skipping up steps so by the time I realised he actually touched me I was up the first flight of stairs. I looked back at him, I scoffed. I had no idea what to do. He leered at me, and I stared at him for a while expecting an apology or something - maybe he accidentally touched me as he was attempting to climb the stairs? Nothing came. He just stared at me and I hurried away and made sure he wasn't following me up the staircase. 

I felt violated. 

Some people might say but dat a nuh nutn major... perhaps not, but it felt pretty huge to me. I didn't say anything to anyone about it for a while and I can't remember if I eventually told my sister. I remember being so afraid of walking the halls or using that stairway again. I completed two degrees in the Media and Communication department at UWI and I still cannot verbalise (at this ripe, old age) how this situation made me feel. It bothered me for a while, especially because I would sometimes glimpse him at church. I don't think I returned to Children's Church much after that incident. 

If that had affected me to that degree, and in the grand scheme of things (based on experiences we've heard and stories we've seen on the news) it is a relatively mild incident, imagine what others are experiencing. Almost 2 decades later I cannot verbalise how this incident made me feel ... imagine the pain (sometimes, eternal) that these women and girls are going/have gone through. 

That Time I Dodged A Bullet

Now, when I was about 10 years old (I think) I would spend my summer holidays at my parents' office. I liked it (until I got older and they gave me MORE and MORE work to do), you could be on the computers all day; eat; take a nap; and the staff obliged me - playing games when they were free. Fun times. Now another office opened up beside my parents' space. Both office spaces had their own exits and entrances but there was also a door between them (which was used occasionally because both companies worked closely). 

Anyhow, the company beside ours got a new bearer and he really creeped me out. Thank Heavens my parents somehow cultivated some sense of discernment within me (which will play out later in the story), because there was just something about him that I really didn't like. In the area where both offices met, there was a huge conference table which I was allowed to sit around (and mostly sleep at) while there weren't any clients present. The new bearer somehow always chose to walk through that door to exit the building when I was sitting there (while there was a perfectly working door on their side of the building which led to the same exit). I eventually stopped sitting there as much; but he would always catch me in the kitchen or outside, with others around though. Once my mother wore this really cool 80's inspired shorts suit to work (It was the 90's, people did lots of things ! lol... It also probably sounds worse than it was but at first glance it looked like a skirt suit) and he nudged me and attempted to whisper in my ear : "tell your mother she has sexy legs". Now, why in the hell would you say that to a child? Why? How is that appropriate in any way? I looked at him and walked away. 

For some reason my cousin thought this new bearer's games and tricks were very cool and always wanted to see a trick when he offered; I, on the other hand, would be glad when I didn't see him for days on end. I'm telling you, I really did not like him. There was just something off-putting about him. One day I was playing with a pack of cards (I liked to play solitaire, perhaps because it was one of a few games that were on the computer), he took them from me and did a magic trick. I was impressed, it was a cool trick. Then he did another, it was cool too ... and then he asked if I wanted to see another trick. I said sure. This one he said he would have to show me outside ... in the kitchen (the kitchen was in a detached building adjacent to the two offices). Now, I knew everyone had already gone on lunch break and this was the time of day when the custodian cleaned the bathrooms downstairs so that whole area would be empty. The kitchen was also built like an "L" so depending on where in the room you were standing, people passing couldn't see you and although there was a window to the kitchen from one of the offices you still could not see inside .  

I asked him why he couldn't show me in the office (he had this weird smile on his face, to this day I remember it!) and he said because of the type of trick it was I would have to follow him to the kitchen. I declined. He already gave me the creeps when I was around other people, imagine alone...NERP. He asked me several times if I was sure. I answered "yes, may I have my cards back?". He attempted to take the cards and slowly walk away ... thinking I would follow him I suppose, but this girl nuh play dem deh game deh. I just turned back to the computer. When he realised I really wasn't interested he returned the cards and told me to have a good day.

I didn't see him for the rest of that week and the following week. I was relieved.

The next two weeks, the office was abuzz with news; Because I was a child nobody really cared to share anything with me ... except the custodian (bless her soul). She told me that the new bearer wouldn't be coming back. I was happy to hear that, but the look on the face indicated there was more to the story so I asked why. Apparently he was from a rural community and went back occasionally with treats for the children. The weekend after the "card trick incident" he had gone back home with treats. It was not uncommon for parents to send their children to his home to collect sweets and other goodies. On that particular weekend, he had sent a message to the mothers of two little girls for them to collect their usual goodies. The girls went. As per the custodian's story, they were raped. The children had told their parents and their parents told other community members who decided they wanted to exact "Jungle Justice", and he was now on the run (hence not returning to work). When I heard this I was stunned. My body was tingling. I said a silent prayer for the girls and their families, as this story confirmed the reason mi spirit jus neva tek him. 

I wondered many things. 

Eventually, I have come to the conclusion that their situation was different from mine. He was someone who was well-known in his community. Rural Jamaica's small, tight-knit communities have higher levels of trust than those in urban areas. Also, a relationship with a neighbour you have known for years, is different from a bearer you barely know; Hence why the parents perhaps trusted him and allowed their children to visit his house. 

It's still unsettling.