What If We Spoke Our Truth?

I found an unpublished blog today.  I had intended to come back and refine it and add some sort of ending.  But as I look at it today, it says what it needs to say.  These words are as relevant this week as they were then.

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Years ago, I had a professor that would not teach about Richard Wagner or his music.  What it boiled down to was that my professor was Jewish and Wagner had been deeply anti-Semitic.  At the time, I wondered why it wasn’t possible to separate the person from their work.  Couldn’t we appreciate great art without condoning the immoral and unethical choices of those that created it?

I think I understand a little better where my professor was coming from.  I’ve actually thought a lot about it in the years since.

Where is my line?  Who gets a pass and who doesn’t?  Why? 

Should I have refused to see the movie Ender’s Game because of Orson Scott Card’s  beliefs and statements about the LGBT community?  But what about all the other wonderful people who worked on the film?  And what about the fact that Ender’s Game is one of the most beautiful stories of redemption that I have ever read.

When the story broke about Al Franken, some of my FB friends said, it wasn’t that bad, and he is doing such good advocacy work now that we need to keep him in office.  Others said, “Burn it down.  Burn it all down.”  Sexual harassment and assault could not be condoned,  and any one in power, regardless of party, needed to be removed from office. 

Last week, the question regarding Matt Lauer was “How do you reconcile your love for someone with the revelation that they have behaved badly?” I also highly recommend reading this article written in response to the same question.  

This week’s celebrity dismissal for sexual abuse is James Levine, who has conducted at the Met for decades, and the works he conducted were masterpieces.  One critic asked, “Should I put away my James Levine recordings?”  Similar to the Ender’s Game situation above, you also have to ask what artists and artistry you will be missing out on because James Levine happened to be the one waving the baton for that recording. 

And what about forgiveness and repentance?  Are sex offenders forever branded and untouchable?  In what circumstances might we once again bring them into our communities?  How do you offer forgiveness for the perpetrator AND protection for the victims and others that are vulnerable that the perpetrator may come in contact with? 

The #metoo movement was about women (and some men) sharing that they had also been sexually harassed or assaulted.  Soon another hashtag popped up: #churchtoo.  This one was about the fact that it happens in the places that should be our most safe spaces, our religious communities.  Far too often victims of sexual harassment, abuse, or assault are told to forgive, but no action is taken to help them heal or to bring perpetrator to justice.  The perpetrator may be counseled to repent, and given a new chance at life.  The victim is told not to talk about it, to forgive, to move on.  No, not every time, but far too often. 

And what about my own #metoo story?  I do have one, and it has shaped and colored many things in my life.  Part of me feels like if I really want to heal that wound, I have to share that story.  I know of some of the good that could come from that.  Every story told opens a door so someone else does not feel so alone in their experience.  Every person that speaks up makes it easier for others to do so.  And when we all speak up, change happens. 

But I know of the damage that my story could also do.  The person that did this to me really does seem to have changed and built a life where he is making a difference in the world.  It’s a little bit like the Al Franken thing.  Do I tear down the good work he is doing now, just to hold him accountable?  I’m fairly certain that his immediate family is unaware of what he did to me.  Do I destroy those relationships?  And then there is the fact that he was pretty messed up when all this happened.  Does he even remember doing it? 

How do I heal without hurting anyone else?  There are no easy answers, so I just continue to wrestle with the questions. 

The bulk of this post was written last night.  Today I opened Facebook to news that made me cry.  I’ve never cried over a Time Person of the Year before, but this matters so much.   I encourage you to read the article and watch the video here.

We're still at the bomb-throwing point of this revolution, a reactive stage at which nuance can go into hiding. But while anger can start a revolution, in its most raw and feral form it can't negotiate the more delicate dance steps needed for true social change. Private conversations, which can't be legislated or enforced, are essential.

Norms evolve, and it's long past time for any culture to view harassment as acceptable. But there's a great deal at stake in how we assess these new boundaries—for women and men together. We can and should police criminal acts and discourage inappropriate, destructive behavior. 

At least we've started asking the right questions. Ones that seem alarmingly basic in hindsight: "What if we did complain?" proposes Megyn Kelly. "What if we didn't whine, but we spoke our truth in our strongest voices and insisted that those around us did better? What if that worked to change reality right now?" Kelly acknowledges that this still feels more like a promise than a certainty. But for the moment, the world is listening.