Just over a week ago, this video was posted: chronicle.com/article/My-Pro…
Since then, a bunch of folks have described my participation in it as brave.
Since then, a bunch of folks have described my participation in it as brave.
To me, it does not feel particularly brave. What I said on camera was nothing that I haven’t said before.
Perhaps the first time I spoke of these things, I was brave. But now, as I keep speaking of them again hoping *something* happens this time…
… “brave” doesn’t describe how I’m feeling. “Tired” describes how I’m feeling.
I’m feeling tired to my bones as a try to maintain a shred of optimism that speaking up *again* might be met with bravery from others.
Optimism that instead of telling me that I’m brave, people will find it within themselves to *be* brave.
It would be brave to entertain the possibility that allegations of harassment against people you admire are true, rather than dismissing them out of hand.
It would be brave to actually want to know who in your community is a harasser. It would be brave to take that knowledge to heart.
It would be brave to resist the reflex to criticize how or where the targets of harassment speak out about what was done to them.
It would be brave to accept the cost you might bear for not pursuing collaborations or other professional partnerships with harassers.
It would be brave to refrain from suggesting that harassment is a cost we ought to bear to protect the increase in diversity achieved through the success of certain people who happen to harass.
It would be brave to hold your colleagues, your friends, yourself to the standard of being a decent human being.
It would be brave to shift your gaze from individual behaviors to systems & social arrangements that work to protect harassers while punishing their targets.
It would be brave to change systems that are working just fine for you in order to make them work better for others.
It would be brave to ask targets of harassment what they want or need. It would be brave to help them get it.
