Magic Bus Whiteboard
I dunno, I think this might make a good profile pic at some point. On one of *those* days, you know the kind, the ones where you’re tearing your hair out.
There was a Magic Whiteboard at work today and it lives, lemme see, my cube, food cube, (empty cube? or not?), Magic Cube. Two or three cubes away from me. I think three but I can’t remember and there are so many empty cubes in my neighborhood that it kind of hurts to try to count. Let’s just say that the whiteboard I was trying to take a pic of in this photo was NOT terribly magic. I did get what I needed out of it for now but not before I ACCIDENTALLY flipped my phone to facetime and, before I noticed that, ACCIDENTALLY took this LOVERLY pic of, well, what the heck? It is my hair, although it kind looks like somebody flipping an old fur hat around. (I cropped a fuzzy image of Amazon Woman out of this. She is beautiful but I’m sure she is welcome.)
Stop reading if you don’t want to read about (hashtag)MeToo. Of COURSE, I have experienced some of this sexual harassment crap. Do I hate that it happens? YES OF COURSE I DO! Has it happened to meeeeee? Of course it has. Has it ruined my life? Nooooooo. BIG disclaimer: I have NEVER been raped or touched in any kind of violent way and I have been blessed that the male supervisors in my career have not EVER harassed me in any way. In fact, I suspect that the LSCHP would “sit on” (his words) anyone who got after any employee, female or not.
Today, the director of the Metropolitan Opera met the sword. That hit a little closer to home. This happens in the music world, a world I haven’t been involved with since I was in college. My experience(s)? We’ll start (and end) with the first. My college-level piano teacher when I was 19/20 was Mr. Robinson, a 30-something guy who I regarded as a good teacher if sometimes a bit of a snob. But then, he invited me to DINNER at HIS HOUSE. A couple of other sophomore students were also invited but they were a *couple*. I… said… okay… Whyyyyy????? NOOOOOO was the correct answer. This did *not* feel like a casual “a bunch of students are coming over” kind of thing and I was sooooo not attracted to him. Yuck!
I think he actually picked me up at my apartment. I don’t remember what we he served us that night. I remember him saying that he had invited me over there because he thought I looked too thin. Oh, not really, and my parents could easily afford to pay for my education *and* food and whatever. His bedroom, all beautiful with Marimekko stuff was easily visible from the dinner table. Was I freaked out? Yes. At one point, I said that I had a boyfriend (I actually did). He seemed surprised. I have never been an idiot and when he went in to another room, I told the other student and her boyfriend that I felt uncomfortable. They were kind of freaked out and gave me a ride home.
I had been getting A grades from Mr. Robinson but he dropped me down to a C after that incident. The only times I have ever earned C grades in my entire life are when I have not gotten along with a teacher and I can USUALLY figger out how to get along with any teacher, unless he is a sexual predator. But yaknow, not all men do that kind of thing to women. I was able to tell my MALE flute teacher (flute was my major instrument) how uncomfortable Mr. Robinson had made me. He had heard from Mr. Robinson too but he listened to me and supported me. I will never figure out why Mr. Robinson thought that a spirited young girl like me would be interested in a sorta baggy looking person like him.
I was very young then but after a bit more LIFE I was hardened by the next round of that kind of crap. Like when the then new MooU symphony band director touched my [then] long blonde hair and I gave him what my beautiful and beloved daughter now calls the Side Eye. I was first chair flute and I was goooood (and my parents were paying my tuition but he may not have known that) and he left me alone. Period. A few years later, he bugged some other maybe less experienced gals who probably had parents with laywers and he was eventually faaaaared via those parents’ lawyers. Warm regards.
It’s sad because he was a reeeeeallly good director. Male musical directors? Keep your hands away from your flute players and keep your p*nises in your pants. Parents! Teach your daughters well and support them in every way you can.
December 5th, 2017 at 12:33 am
Interesting stories and great words!