Dear men of a certain age/mentality... You know who you are, And you know who we are - the ones who closed our eyes, silenced our hearts, thought we had to put up or shut up...
Personal on-the-job experience:
"I require my female employees to have regular professional manicures."
"Anyone can lose 10 pounds over a weekend if they try. Let's weigh you - I'll give you $100 on Monday if you lose 10 pounds."
"If you wore a lower cut blouse, I could get a better look at the milky whites..."
"It looks like you are using being knocked up as an excuse to eat one-too-many hot fudge sundaes."
"My best client is in town for the weekend. It would help if my assistant was "nice" to him. He's staying at a great hotel..."
And the one that sent me to therapy for PTSD...
"If you die on the job, can I do you while you're still warm?"
And these statements don't begin to touch on the waitress experience - unzipped flies, pinched bottoms, being pulled onto a lap...
My dear husband (who was not in my life during those times) asks me why, no one has to put up with that! Why didn't you speak out?!. Why? Because we thought we had to stay silent - single moms have children to support; married women have bills to pay. And the few who did speak out, right then and there...were forced out of jobs or demoted.
No more. We know you, your type, and the lap dogs who support you. You will not have our daughters, our granddaughters. One of you will not have our nation.
I’m still Lolo’s Child, but pivoting a bit to embrace one of her battle cries, “Another Adventure.” Sharing life challenges in my seventh decade, but occasionally sharing art and joy, as well.
