Have y'all seen this article? How to Get a Black Woman Fired in Six Tired Steps.
In the same context, it feels important to highlight Adria's response in her own voice.
First of all, Adria is a beautiful name. Secondly, this is the same kind of shit that happened to me when I was a young computer scientist fledgling at Georgia Tech. My teaching assistant, a white guy who had grading power over me, flirted with me all semester, gave me a C, asked me out. (Er, I confess that I did go out with him, but it was after the semester was over and I had my grade already. It was a first and last date). Then, there's my boss at Verizon Wireless in my summer internship. David was a 40 something white guy, married to a Latina woman, had 3 kids with her. His eldest daughter was 17, I was 20. He stared at my butt every day while I climbed under the table to plug in the laptop. He hired me over the guy I was dating, even though that guy passed the technical test and I didn't. I took the internship. It was my first paid job off campus, I wanted the money and needed the work experience and as an international student, my employment opportunities were limited. That summer, I re-developed the severe and mysterious stomach aches that used to bombard me in childhood. Intense abdominal pain that was never medically diagnosed. Same thing that was happening when I was molested for years as a small child. On the last day of my internship, David took me for a walk off company grounds because he had something to tell me that would get him fired if it was on company grounds. He said so before the walk. Uninviting to say the least, I didn't want to go and didn't feel like I could say no (I know, I worked on this issue in myself), and we went for this walk where I didn't breathe the whole time (fucking asshole, fucking survival) and he told me he had a dream last night that we were playing footsie before his tongue was in my mouth. In the dream not in waking life and yet still so gross. That nasty man.
So then, I switched to anti-violence and joined the movement instead. A movement for radical liberation. And if you are rolling your eyes at the words radical or liberation, stop. Really, for a minute, close your eyes and try to imagine what would be one radical step for you towards your own true freedom. Not the I-can-do-whatever-I-want freedom, but the I-feel-free, I move freely from my own truth, however unpopular or lonely, and not from expectations or norms or pressure or reward or fear or obligation.
I've decided I need to complain more. I'm still a believer in positivity, just not in repression. Every time that shit pisses me off or rubs me the wrong way or gets me angry or makes me crazy I WILL complain. I will not swallow it. I will not digest those excruciating stomach aches. I will not be the picture of calm and perseverance in the day if it keeps me up at night.
In the same context, it feels important to highlight Adria's response in her own voice.
First of all, Adria is a beautiful name. Secondly, this is the same kind of shit that happened to me when I was a young computer scientist fledgling at Georgia Tech. My teaching assistant, a white guy who had grading power over me, flirted with me all semester, gave me a C, asked me out. (Er, I confess that I did go out with him, but it was after the semester was over and I had my grade already. It was a first and last date). Then, there's my boss at Verizon Wireless in my summer internship. David was a 40 something white guy, married to a Latina woman, had 3 kids with her. His eldest daughter was 17, I was 20. He stared at my butt every day while I climbed under the table to plug in the laptop. He hired me over the guy I was dating, even though that guy passed the technical test and I didn't. I took the internship. It was my first paid job off campus, I wanted the money and needed the work experience and as an international student, my employment opportunities were limited. That summer, I re-developed the severe and mysterious stomach aches that used to bombard me in childhood. Intense abdominal pain that was never medically diagnosed. Same thing that was happening when I was molested for years as a small child. On the last day of my internship, David took me for a walk off company grounds because he had something to tell me that would get him fired if it was on company grounds. He said so before the walk. Uninviting to say the least, I didn't want to go and didn't feel like I could say no (I know, I worked on this issue in myself), and we went for this walk where I didn't breathe the whole time (fucking asshole, fucking survival) and he told me he had a dream last night that we were playing footsie before his tongue was in my mouth. In the dream not in waking life and yet still so gross. That nasty man.
So then, I switched to anti-violence and joined the movement instead. A movement for radical liberation. And if you are rolling your eyes at the words radical or liberation, stop. Really, for a minute, close your eyes and try to imagine what would be one radical step for you towards your own true freedom. Not the I-can-do-whatever-I-want freedom, but the I-feel-free, I move freely from my own truth, however unpopular or lonely, and not from expectations or norms or pressure or reward or fear or obligation.
I've decided I need to complain more. I'm still a believer in positivity, just not in repression. Every time that shit pisses me off or rubs me the wrong way or gets me angry or makes me crazy I WILL complain. I will not swallow it. I will not digest those excruciating stomach aches. I will not be the picture of calm and perseverance in the day if it keeps me up at night.
As for you fuckers who are causing the distress to me and my people - if I'm not sleeping, you will not be allowed to sleep either. Way to go Adria Richards!!!!! You spoke out, you did nothing wrong. To speak out when those men are talking about "forking" women, was the most basic self- and women-protective instinct. Your action caused no harm to anyone, but a woman setting a boundary, especially a Black woman calling out white men on their lewd shit that makes working life so literally painful, I wish I had done that sooner in my life! Ms. Richards, I love that you spoke of healing and openness in your statement. I love that you are both moving forward, and acknowledging the harm this has caused you (Adria says in her statement - "all I wish to do is find the good in what has been one of the most challenging weeks of my life.") I love that you are speaking of root causes, and of moving towards solutions together. I'm a fan, a sister, a cheerleader, and re-inspired to call out sexism and racism and all other kinds of bullshit that keeps us awake, in pain, or unemployed and facing other dire consequences.
Adria! I'm with you. I'm writing today just so that we can prove that calling shit out helps other people speak out. And speaking out is a necessary step towards (all of our) radical liberation.
Nitika, I'm constantly in awe of you. I believe deeply in calling shit and people out, regardless of the consequences. I'm so happy to see you take the same step. When I internalize what I've experienced or don't speak up, I find myself coming home with a splitting headache, just to throw up. Thank you for sharing your story, and sharing how race/gender/class experiences in the U.S. have had a profound impact on you. Much love and power to you.
ReplyDeleteThank you Prerna, for your constant support and encouragement. And for the fierceness you live and model on the daily!!!
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