Moving Target: Female Reporter
It happened again. A man it on me yesterday. Unremarkable except that he is a good friend's husband. For personal reasons beyond its total inappropriateness, when men I trust and believe are my friends make a pass at me it sends me into a tailspin. It's more upsetting than it should be. Or is it?
The incident reminded me of the last time I was so upset when a man - a mentor, a friend and my editor - did the same thing. It was a going away dinnner and I was still at one of my internships. I was suspicious when he suggested what sounded like a bit too romantic of a picnic. So I opted for a restaurant. We had a good conversation about politics and events. I suggested that we get a bottle of wine and go down to the river after all. I thought my original suspicion was misplaced (and felt bad for even thinking it) and I was enjoying the company. It turned out to be a far less public setting that I had expected. Of course, he did try to kiss me after I had made some lame attempts to dissaude his advances. I should have been clear and blunt from the start. I should never have been at that river in the first place. I spent the next two days curled up on a sofa going over every detail of the evening in my mind.
The thing is, I didn't feel like I could be clear or blunt because diplomacy was the only way to confront someone who had power over my career. I would ask this person to publish my work and as a freelancer I knew how easy it would be for him to say no. I had to lie and say that I would not have an affair with him because I loved my husband. That's true, but I wanted to say how hurt and angry I was by his assumption that I would have a romantic relationship with him in the first place. Meanwhile, another reporter had been calling me a name reflecting my physical features that was also not appropriate. Not rude, just inappropriate among colleagues. I finally told him not to. His response was that he was just admiring and he kept at it. Strangely, another well respected reporter told me once how good a pair of my favorite sunglasses looked on me. What the hell? It's not like I was walking around acting like a tart - or even flirtatious, but I didn't act tough either.
And that's the problem. I learned how important it is for women in the newsroom to create a tough, detached, impervious demeanor. Make the guys in the newsroom a little fearful of making passes or comments and earn their respect with top-notch reporting. She'll be called a bitch by the assholes but she can't let her guard down.
So when the guy made his move yesterday I was in the same position, but I didn't think I had to keep my guard up around people I thought were friends. Or that I'd have to tread lightly because this person is actually significant because he can help me get access to some reporting I want to do. It feels like shit to wonder if others are leering at me. That they could care less about what I think and how hard I work to do good reporting. It feels like shit to not be taken seriously. I just wonder how many other women, especially interns, find themselves in the same position. I've heard enough to know it's more common than is talked about openly. But I don't know yet how much more.
The incident reminded me of the last time I was so upset when a man - a mentor, a friend and my editor - did the same thing. It was a going away dinnner and I was still at one of my internships. I was suspicious when he suggested what sounded like a bit too romantic of a picnic. So I opted for a restaurant. We had a good conversation about politics and events. I suggested that we get a bottle of wine and go down to the river after all. I thought my original suspicion was misplaced (and felt bad for even thinking it) and I was enjoying the company. It turned out to be a far less public setting that I had expected. Of course, he did try to kiss me after I had made some lame attempts to dissaude his advances. I should have been clear and blunt from the start. I should never have been at that river in the first place. I spent the next two days curled up on a sofa going over every detail of the evening in my mind.
The thing is, I didn't feel like I could be clear or blunt because diplomacy was the only way to confront someone who had power over my career. I would ask this person to publish my work and as a freelancer I knew how easy it would be for him to say no. I had to lie and say that I would not have an affair with him because I loved my husband. That's true, but I wanted to say how hurt and angry I was by his assumption that I would have a romantic relationship with him in the first place. Meanwhile, another reporter had been calling me a name reflecting my physical features that was also not appropriate. Not rude, just inappropriate among colleagues. I finally told him not to. His response was that he was just admiring and he kept at it. Strangely, another well respected reporter told me once how good a pair of my favorite sunglasses looked on me. What the hell? It's not like I was walking around acting like a tart - or even flirtatious, but I didn't act tough either.
And that's the problem. I learned how important it is for women in the newsroom to create a tough, detached, impervious demeanor. Make the guys in the newsroom a little fearful of making passes or comments and earn their respect with top-notch reporting. She'll be called a bitch by the assholes but she can't let her guard down.
So when the guy made his move yesterday I was in the same position, but I didn't think I had to keep my guard up around people I thought were friends. Or that I'd have to tread lightly because this person is actually significant because he can help me get access to some reporting I want to do. It feels like shit to wonder if others are leering at me. That they could care less about what I think and how hard I work to do good reporting. It feels like shit to not be taken seriously. I just wonder how many other women, especially interns, find themselves in the same position. I've heard enough to know it's more common than is talked about openly. But I don't know yet how much more.
posted by A.W. Woodall at 10:55 AM
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