All smiles: Senator Al Franken signs my book at an event to promote his memoir Giant in the Senate. Little did I know that less than two months later he would be accused of groping four women.
I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, a lot of reading, and a lot more thinking. I’m a proud Democrat, and a lawyer, a woman, and a middle-aged mother of two teens. I write a blog for progressive/feminist moms. I have written in the past about consent, and how we need to teach our children and, in particular, our young sons, appropriate boundaries and respect for girls and women. I am in favor of legislation requiring that our public schools teach about “consent” as part of the health curriculum.
It is with this perspective that I say progressives need to be very careful when dismissing out-of-hand allegations of sexual assault or harassment leveled against a beloved Democrat if, for no other reason, the message it sends to the next generation of men and women.
To be sure, there are degrees of sexual misconduct and children can never consent to sex. So, on one end of the spectrum, we find men like Roy Moore (and various priests and so-called religious leaders), who are pedophiles and predators. They find shelter in religious jargon and institutions and traditions, as if sexual abuse is excusable somehow because of religious beliefs. It’s not. Anyone who makes sexual advances towards a minor is flat out morally wrong, and no amount of praying to God will ever make it right.
American culture, however, in many ways is not so different from the patriarchal structure found in fundamentalist religion. Society “grooms” our girls to be brides, and baby incubators, and sex objects, and second-class citizens, valuing a female’s appearance and obedience to male-ordained ideals above all else. And our society slowly but surely teaches boys and men that it’s ok to touch girls and women and that, if they appear not to like it, well, that’s just “playing hard to get,” so try harder. Toxic masculinity is indoctrinated into our boys as the norm, including the conquest of women. The election of Donald Trump taught our children that if a man gets caught bragging about grabbing women by the genitals without their consent, he can be elected to the highest office in the land! Boys are taught to be assertive, even aggressive, and our girls are taught to shut up and look pretty.
About ten years ago, my daughter’s female Kindergarten teacher exuberantly told my husband and me, at our first parent-teacher conference, that our bright, friendly, sociable little girl was doing great—because all the boys loved her. They loved sitting next to her, holding her hand, being near her. They followed her around. My jaw nearly dropped to the ground. I asked if my 5-year-old daughter seemed to like all of that male attention. “Of course,” said the teacher, as if to say, how could she not? When I went home and talked with my young daughter, it turned out that she really wasn’t so thrilled, that she found all that touching and attention “annoying.” Apparently, my daughter had, by then, already learned the lesson that she should just grin and bear it when a male touches her without her consent, because clearly the teacher didn’t think there was anything wrong with it. And what about the boys? I can only assume they learned the lesson that it was just fine to invade the personal space of a member of the opposite sex.
At the other end of the spectrum from pedophilia is sexual harassment and assault of grown women. This is the #metoo phenomenon that has led to a cascade of charges against powerful men in Hollywood and Congress. As women, we hear all these stories, and then stop and think to ourselves—Wait, something like that happened to me, and it felt wrong at the time. And now I hear someone else saying it is wrong, that there’s a name for it, and it’s called “sexual harassment” or “sexual assault.” The experience maybe didn’t ruin our lives, yet we do remember that it happened. It sits there, just beneath the surface, and when we hear other women bravely come forward, it reminds us. Me too.
When I was 19 years old, I worked at a mom-and-pop video rental store over the summer between my freshman and sophomore year of college. It was the mid-1980s, and still years before Clarence Thomas’ confirmation hearing where Anita Hill’s story of a hostile work environment brought the concept of “sexual harassment” into the American consciousness. I was happy to have the job, and earning some money. The manager of the video store had hired me, and seemed like a nice guy at first. He also would come up behind me as I was standing behind the counter, when no one was in the store, and rub up against my behind with his genitals. I still remember how disgusting and demoralizing this felt at the time, but it didn’t ruin my life, and I don’t even remember his name, though I clearly see his face more than thirty years later. Fortunately, he had other stores to manage and wasn’t in mine very often. Fortunately, I had a co-worker, also a young woman, with whom I commiserated. He did the same thing to her. And fortunately, I didn’t need the job—I returned to college in the fall and never looked back. Yet, I never forgot. And yes, I now realize it was both sexual harassment and sexual assault.
Sure, those were very different times. Looking back, I now realize with sadness and anger that, while we women were working our butts off to get and keep a job for the same reasons men seek employment, many men in a relative position of power and authority apparently thought of us as no more than mere sex objects sent into the workplace like manna from heaven, and treated us accordingly. It’s a sobering thing to realize as a middle-aged feminist. Yet, with all we know now, it would seem enlightened—progressive—men would be on notice, that this behavior was wrong then and completely unacceptable now. But as Cecily Strong’s “Claire from HR” on Saturday Night Live pointed out, in a stroke of black comedic genius, perhaps men still don’t know anything about appropriate boundaries in the workplace or, for that matter, anywhere?
I am a proud and loyal Democrat, but I am an even prouder and more loyal woman and mother. It’s easy to condemn a male politician like Roy Moore with whom I disagree on every issue imaginable and who preyed on girls about the same age as my daughter when he was in his 30s. Seemingly good male allies like Al Franken are more difficult. Until about a week ago, I had been saying that he should run for the Democratic nomination in 2020. I don’t say that anymore, now that four women have come forward accusing him of groping them. How can I defend behavior that I have condemned in others—like Donald Trump? Is grabbing a woman by the butt any better than grabbing her by the genitals? A man who sexually assaults or harasses multiple women who otherwise does great things for women is perhaps better than one whose politics are anti-woman, but still . . . .
Do I think he should step down? No, not necessarily, especially as long as President Pussy Grabber and other Republicans who have harmed women remain in office. But I do think qualified Democratic women should step up should he choose to seek reelection as Minnesota’s junior senator, and run against him for the nomination. I have to be consistent, and I think as progressives we must be consistent. GOP politicians have proven themselves time and time again to be hypocrites—preaching “family values” while doing immoral things or the very things they rail against. We call them out every time, and rightfully so. Condemning those we like or even love for doing something wrong is very difficult. It’s why children who are molested by trusted family members or clergy may struggle getting up the nerve to report it, only to be told that they must be wrong—your stepfather, or uncle, or our priest would never do something like that.
It’s why so many women hesitate before reporting misconduct: Who will believe them? Why will their pain be prioritized over the career of a powerful and beloved man?