#metoo movement to the #wetoo revolution

I thought I had hit the jackpot when I got a job on Wall Street. It was 1992, and I had just graduated from college in the middle of a recession. I had sent out 200 or more resumes to various industries, and finally, after months of job searching, I got an offer working as an Analyst at a Wall Street firm. I'd be working for the head of High Yield Bonds, a man who was in his mid-thirties, and I would share a large office with three men on the High Yield team.

When I started my job, I worked hard to learn all I could about finance and the bond market. A few weeks into my job, after the markets had closed, my boss asked me to come downstairs to the trading floor with him. I thought we were going to talk to the traders on his team, but when we got there, he introduced me to a pretty blonde lady who came in once a month to sell ties to the traders. He perused her selection and picked out a red tie. He made some small talk with the woman and then paid for his tie. We came back to my office, and he talked to my male colleagues about the saleslady's skin-tight dress, her tight ass. and her perky breasts - probably a C-cup. He also told them that he'd like to 'get a piece of her.'

That incident set off warning bells in my head. But my Asian upbringing told me just to keep my head down and work hard. I was after all a trainee, here to soak up all I could about this work and do the best I can. Still, this type of behavior persisted. There were cursing and lewd language. The sexually-charged and the sexist comments were unrelenting. Once, when my boss and I were coming back from lunch, he stopped to buy something at a street vendor selling novelty items. He bought a pack of playing cards - Penthouse playing cards. When we got to the office, he started passing the cards out, each one with a picture of a half-naked woman on it, and the men began comparing the women's looks and their body parts.

I didn't just stand by idly and ignore it. In college, I had taken Women's Studies classes and walked in ‘Take Back the Night’ marches. I considered myself a feminist, and I could not sit back and listen to these men objectify women in this way. So, I often complained to my boss and the men around me about the inappropriate language and bad behavior. But I was met with lectures about how I was not Joan of Arc, and that I could do nothing to change the culture in the office. My boss reminded me that Joan of Arc was, after all, ‘burned at the stake.'

If what I've told you wasn't bad enough, just wait. My boss began threatening to hire a stripper to perform in the office for a colleague's birthday. Of course, I raised my objections, but naively I thought that my boss could not possibly do something so egregious. Then on my colleague's birthday, I went out to get lunch, and when I came back to eat it at my desk, my boss was standing in front of the door to our shared office, blocking my access to the office. He simply said, "She's in there." Immediately, I knew what that meant. Behind the closed doors, a woman was stripping for the men in my office. I went into an adjacent office to eat my lunch, and when it was all over, my boss came into the room to tell me that if I told anyone about this incident, I'd be working in the mailroom.

This toxic environment affected me at the core. I couldn't sleep, and I hated coming into work. I knew what was happening wasn't right, yet I didn't know where to turn. My boss was friends with the head of HR, and he led me to believe that I would get nowhere by complaining to her. He told me this is just the way it was on Wall Street. He said that if I wanted to work with women, I could work in publishing or PR where we can 'sit around and have tea parties.' If I wanted to stay in banking, I had to just suck it up.

One day I was having drinks with a friend and one of her friends, who happened to be interning at an employment law firm. When I told her about the things that were happening in the office, she turned to me and said, "Lisa, that's sexual harassment, and it's illegal." I was dumbfounded and confused. "But he didn't proposition me," I said. She explained to me that I was experiencing what was called a hostile work environment, and it is a form of workplace discrimination. It was at that moment that I finally understood that my feelings of marginalization and isolation were legitimate. I could label it, and more importantly, I could do something about it.

While part of me wanted to stick it out, prove that I could make it in this man's world, the other part of me wanted to get out of there as fast as I could. I finally went to HR and told them what was happening. I asked for a transfer and took the first thing that came my way - a job in Credit Risk. My boss told me that a man would be hired in my place because 'women couldn't handle it' there. But to be clear, I refused to let my boss' actions go unaddressed. I insisted that he go through sexual harassment training. But everyone I talked to - from the head of HR to the President of the Company said that it wasn't necessary. Instead, they gave him a woman intern to supervise, who, as I discovered later when I spoke to her, also experienced the same kind of harassment I had experienced. 

I could not let my old boss continue to treat women this way. But I knew that the only recourse I had at this point was to file a legal case. There are many reasons not to do this. I was afraid that this legal case would follow me in my career, that employers would find out about it and not want to hire me. I worried that people would view me as litigious and brand me a trouble maker. But my desire to stop this man from doing this to other women was far more critical than any of those labels.

I decided to file a complaint with the Human Rights Commission. After a few years, long after I had left the bank, they conducted an investigation and found that there was 'probable cause' for the complaint. Then ten years after I initially filed my complaint, I was given a pre-trial hearing date. In this hearing, I could settle out of court and end it, or I could decide to go through a trial and tell my story. Deciding what to do was difficult, even excruciating. You see, I wanted justice and at that point, the only remedy available to me was a financial one. I was riddled with indecision, self-doubt, and fear. And most of all, I felt alone.

In the end, I decided to settle out of court, but the one stipulation that I made when I took the settlement was that I could not agree to a standard non-disclosure agreement. I would have to be able to tell my story. The lawyer for the bank proposed that I could talk about it freely with family and friends, but that I would have to use a pseudonym if I wrote about it or spoke to the press. I could agree with those terms because it still enabled me to tell my story. If I were to give one piece of advice to you, it would be this– your voice is the most precious thing that you have; do not let anyone take it away from you. 

I didn't share my story widely with people, though I did write about my experiences through my creative work. Then one day, a remarkable thing happened - and it was called the #metoo movement. I remember scrolling through Facebook, and people were sharing their #metoo experiences - not just women but men too. I decided to share my story on Facebook and the outpouring of support I got made me realize that I was not alone. I was finally able to reclaim my time. On that day, I finally felt validated for the choice that I had made as a young 23-year-old to stand up for myself and the women who were to come after me. 

Though this movement came too late for me to benefit from it, it has done so much to highlight the problems that women face at work, at home, and in life. And it has started the conversation about 'what now?'.

As a writer, a businesswoman, and an entrepreneur - I know too well the challenges that women face. Only 1 in 5 women playwrights get their plays produced. Women direct only 12% of the top 100 grossing movies in the US. There are only 25 women CEOs at the helm of Fortune 500 companies - that's 5% when you do the math. All-women founding teams receive only 2.8% of venture capital funds raised. The numbers are far worse for women of color. These gender disparities are a huge problem in our culture, and it is pervasive.

I think it is time that we all reclaim our time. And to do this, we need to do this together. We need to ban together to uplift and support women - financially and emotionally. Change will not happen without it. Yes, changes need to happen in Corporate America, at universities, in the service sector, and in the government. But changes also need to happen on a grassroots level - in every household and every community. 

Here are some ideas on what we can all do:

  • We can ask for help from our partners. We can ask them to share the load, share in the responsibilities of managing the home and raising our children, roles that disproportionately fall on women's shoulders.

  • We can support women entrepreneurs and artists by going to their stores, eating at their restaurants, going to their movies, and buying their art. We can nurture them by providing them with the capital and expertise they need to thrive.

  • We can support companies that don't just pay lip service to women's issues but that provide equal pay to women and create cultures that enable women to succeed.

  • We can support women who decide to stay home to take on the critical task of raising children - and make sure they know their work is valued.

  • When we read books to our kids, we can be purposeful about sharing stories that empower girls and girls of color.

  • We can elect people who will ensure that women's rights are preserved and strengthened on the city, state, and national levels.

  • We can speak up when we see, hear or experience the injustices that affect all women.

  • And finally, when we go out into the world, we can model the kindness and empathy that comes with authentically owning our power.

Yes, we need to say 'me too'...but we also need to say 'we too.' By starting a #wetoo revolution, one that bans women together and holds each other up, we can help more women reclaim their time

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This talk was given at Portland State University's School of Business annual event: Empowering Women of Color in Business. on March 6th, 2020. This year's theme was "Reclaiming Our Time," drawn from Rep. Maxine Waters (D-Calif.) who sparked social media hashtags and viral memes when she interrupted Treasury Secretary Steven Mnuchin's answer to her question by repeating the phrase, "Reclaiming my time." Speakers were asked to share their stories and lessons learned about reclaiming their time.