Say no more… and I love Monty Python. That attitude is questionable, however.
Last year, I was astounded by the calmness and certitude of a young woman testifying before the January 6th Committee of the U.S. House of Representatives. I noticed that she was so young to be in a position that entailed daily interactions with POTUS and her boss, his chief of staff. Quite a heady atmosphere for a young person. And her coolness under pressure, on national television, was remarkable.
Now, Cassidy Hutchinson has a book out and one story hit home for me. You see, I was her age and a policy analyst for the Speaker of the Assembly in a large state. Small fish, not the White House but an intense political atmosphere as well. Lots of work to be done by us young, underpaid college grads and lots of big political egos to deal with.
I was young, single and cute, and while I was not propositioned every day, it happened often during legislative session. Heard two of the worst lines ever in my life from those days. Should I tell you? Perhaps, as their granddaughters might now be reading this. My response depended on the person, but if I knew a bit about him, a standard one was a question about one of his kids. “Did your daughter get into the art program at Pratt?” With that, they were taken aback a bit, realizing that I was only a few years older than their kid and wouldn’t it be creepy if an old guy hit on her.
Let it be said that two generations ago, no-one had the temerity to touch me outright. I was shocked and very disturbed to hear Cassidy Hutchinson recall Rudy Giuliani groping her backstage on January 6 while POTUS spoke and John Eastman leered nearby. Gross!
When this happened to me in the early 1980’s more women were getting elected to office and there were more women joining the professional staffs. Young women, like me, who were smart and eager to learn, tackle difficult subject matter and work long hours with low pay. It breaks my heart to see that the sexism is not only still there, it’s gotten worse.
Political workplaces are especially charged, I believe, because of the incredible egos involved with elected officials, and the fact that they’re away from home a lot. There was a phrase they used back then (still?) that meant whatever happened in Vegas… you get it. I applaud Ms. Hutchinson for speaking up on this issue, that will hopefully open the doors for others to do so as well.
OK, you’ve read this far. Here goes. I was alone in the elevator with an assemblyman, a freshman. I was wearing a blouse and a beautiful knee-length Scottish kilt, pin and all. He intimated that if I were wearing knee socks instead of tights, he’d have me right then and there. Elevator doors opened and I got out, and that was that. Never happened again as he ended up on the committee I staffed, we saw each other at meetings and the other committee members respected me and my work.
Ah, the pièce de résistance. My assigned counsel, after haranguing me for months to go to dinner with him to get to know each other better, I acquiesced and made sure that my roommate and several other colleagues would be at the local eatery I chose. They weren’t. He drove me home and asked to come up. No, I said. He replied “You’re an attractive woman. I’m a man. We both have needs.” I was on my way to the front door laughing so hard under my breath I almost wet my pants.
The next morning I was in the Speaker’s offices for some reason. His counsel called me into his office and told me to shut the door. OMG what did I do? Am I in trouble? He said “tell me everything.” “What? What did I do?” Tell me everything that happened last night. Turns out he shared a house with the two lawyers who were at my apartment with my roommate waiting for me to get home, and I told them the story. The Speaker’s counsel nearly fell off his chair laughing. My counsel never hit on me again.
Was it worth reading now? Gals, know as much as you can about the guys you work with, especially if you’re in politics. Sometimes a well-timed remark can save you. Be careful out there! Dee