My Experience with Sexual Harassment in the Theatre

Let me start off by saying that as I write this, I am overwhelmed by nervousness. I am scared that even though the content of this post is merely a toe-dip in the shallow end of this issue pool, that it is too much. I also fear that it is not enough. Does my voice matter? Is the little bit of my experience that I am willing to share going to make a difference? Really, I'm no one in this community- An emerging artists with little-to-no professional experience on her resume. I wonder if that makes what I have to say less important. Or is it all the more crucial because there are so many more of us at the bottom than there are at the top? I don't know. All I know is I have a voice and something to say, so I'm going to say it. Even if I'm not saying all of it.

I am not brave enough to name the names of the men who have harassed me. I fear the repercussions- in my career, but also in my personal life. And that is the real issue for me as I don't have much of a career to lose. I do have friends, though. And most of the men in this industry, in my life, who have harassed me or made me feel uncomfortable, are friends of mine. Colleagues. People I like and respect and drink beers with. It's not just the Harvey Weinsteins or Albert Schultzs of the world. It's other low-level theatre artists trying to build their sad little resumes, just like me. Don't get me wrong, it's been people in positions of power, too, but by and large, it's good men who have done shitty things. Probably without even realizing it. I hope to God they didn't realize it. And that's why it's unlikely that I'll ever name them. Because I've  forgiven them in my heart as not knowing any better. So, please know that with this post, I am trying to help you know better.

Here are a few behaviours that I have experienced that I think would be pretty easy for us to just stop doing:

Don't hit on me during a production. I mean, I'm in a happy, long-term relationship, so you don't have to hit on me at all, but especially don't hit on me during rehearsal. Even at the community theatre level, for me, acting is a profession. Be professional. I mean, I get it. In a show, the lines can get blurry. We spend a lot of time together, maybe we're kissing. I'm beautiful and awesome. But just remember, if your advances are unwanted (and with me, they always are) you are going to make someone you have to work with for the next weeks or months very uncomfortable. I might pretend that everything is fine, but it's not. I'm not fine anymore and I'm not safe in this space anymore. I'm now going over everything that I said and did, wondering how I encouraged you, what I did to make you think I wanted it. Wracking my brain for how you could have possibly misinterpreted my desire for friendship and connection as an invitation. And I do this alone. Maybe later with a girlfriend over a drink, in whispers. Because there are more women in this industry than men and if I complain, I probably won't be fired, but they'll cast someone else next time. I've proven to be difficult to work with. 

Don't mistake my costume as consent. My body and sexuality have been exploited in many different shows. Sometimes it's for laughs, sometimes because sex sells, and sometimes we like to pretend that cleavage is a personality trait. Often all three. But remember that, most of the time, someone else has dressed me. If asked my opinion on the costume, I'll probably say it's fine because that is the mantra of a women in the industry. In community theatre particularly, I know that the costume choices for someone with my measurements are hard to come by and I don't want to create more work for the already overloaded production team. So, I wear what I'm given and then you say something about my breasts, or you stare, or you find yourself unable or unwilling to make eye contact with me and what can I do but go on pretending that it's fine? It's not like I can change or cover up. I am left feeling no better than naked and I still have to wear this costume, accessorized by  the burden of your gaze.

Don't make me beg for my safety. If I have to be in an intimate scene, I need everyone involved to be on the same page. I need there to be ground rules that everyone is aware of and on board for. All "unspoken rules" of on-stage intimacy need to be spoken- in fact everything needs to be spoken explicitly. Especially when asking for my consent. If you can't say the words, you're not mature enough to take part. Intimacy direction is a real thing that protects everyone in a vulnerable scene and it should be given without hesitation. It should be planned for and completely transparent. I shouldn't have to ask at all. And I definitely shouldn't have to ask multiple times.

Don't leave me hanging. This is the big one. Nine times out of ten, when I've been sexually harassed, I haven't been alone. It hasn't happened in dark corners, or on casting couches. It's in the rehearsal hall or the dressing room. There is an audience. Not the kind who pays a ticket price, but one of silent bystanders. I know I seem strong and confident and capable, but deep down I avoid confrontation just like most people. I try my best to be my own advocate, but more often than not, I use laughter to hide my shame and anger. I wish that when these things happened, I had the guts to stand up and say "THIS IS NOT OKAY!" But if everyone around acts like what just happened is not a problem, I'm not going to make it a problem. I don't want to ruin their day. I don't want to make my friends uncomfortable. So, I'll be uncomfortable by myself. But I would love it if I didn't have to be. 

This is just the tip of the iceberg for me, and it is just a small example of what many women in this industry and many others go through every day. I felt inspired- no, compelled- to speak out after all the incredible speeches at the Golden Globes last night. I don't know if this post will do anything at all to help the movement, or to help me heal, but I figured it was worth a shot. I am not brave enough to sit fully in my hurt and anger, but maybe this is a start. 

Thank you for reading. Let's try to do better.