I went to a good school. I’ve been told that I’m a “good guy.” That does not absolve my past– and neither does this or any post. Here are two times that I’ve committed sexually predatory behavior, and one time that I’ve been the victim of it.
1.
In my sophomore year of college, my (non-Jewish) fraternity hosted a “fratty Seder” during Passover, followed by an unrelated party. College was a time when I drank heavily in order to deal with social anxiety around impressing both women and men, and this day was no different. I had about ten glasses of wine and not much food, and got extremely drunk.
At the party, I remember consensually dancing with a girl I hadn’t met before, whose name I don’t know but whom I’ll call Jennifer. I then remember maneuvering myself and Jennifer towards a wall of the dance floor, and kissing her neck. I don’t remember her protesting against this while it was happening, but I remember understanding that I hadn’t asked for or gotten her consent. After I kissed her, she recoiled, and I saw her leaving the party in tears with her friends a few minutes later.
The next morning, the social chair of my fraternity sent out an email to all members that, without getting into specifics of my actions, urged us all to treat women respectfully. Following this, I sent out my own email to the fraternity listserv, saying that what I did was wrong and unacceptable. In this email, I also said that my Mom was coming to visit a couple days later, and asked people not to bring this event up around her. (Hi, Mom.)
I wrestled with reaching out to Jennifer to apologize. I decided that, especially because she didn’t know me, she might feel retraumatized by hearing from me again. I thought about the decision not to reach out for years afterwards, and about 2 years ago (ie about 7 years after this happened), I made an effort to contact her through my old fraternity brothers and through what I thought was her sorority. I haven’t been able to get in touch with her. Jennifer, I’m so sorry.
2.
One night during my senior year of college, I was hanging out with a female friend, whom I’ll call Debbie, and her friends. As we went from bar to bar, I bonded with one of her friends in particular, whom I’ll call Lisa. Debbie and Lisa lived together, and a group went back to their place at the end of the night. After other people left, Lisa and I consensually made out for a bit. I wanted to have sex, and she said something to the effect of, “let’s do it tomorrow instead.” I carried Lisa into her bedroom and onto her bed. I thought of myself as making a chivalrous, take-charge gesture, but it was clear to me that I hadn’t asked for or gotten her consent to carry her. We kissed a bit more on her bed, and she made it clear that she didn’t want to have sex. I left.
In the following days, I spoke with Debbie, who was and is active in women’s health spaces, about whether I should reach out to Lisa to apologize. I don’t remember exactly what Debbie said, but I ended up deciding not to reach out- again, I was conscious about not wanting to retraumatize Lisa.
After trying to contact Jennifer, I decided to reach out to Lisa, too. She accepted my apology, and we haven’t spoken since.
There have been other instances in my life similar to 1 and 2, but those 2 stuck with me the most.
3.
In 2016-2017, I was a substitute teacher at Dwight School, a very high-end private school in the Upper West Side. I was working on my computer one day in the teacher’s lounge. There was one other teacher in the room, a middle-aged woman with her back turned away from me. The Hebrew teacher, first name Sand, sat down across from me. A few minutes after he sat down, I noticed his leg brushing against mine. I moved mine away. Ten or so minutes later, I noticed his leg against mine again, and again I moved mine away. At some point, maybe 15 minutes after that, I noticed that he was staring right at me. I tried to ignore him, but a few minutes later, he was still staring at me.
I felt my heart racing, just as it’s racing as I’m writing this now. I half-closed my laptop, and asked him something like, “is everything alright?” He said something like, “I don’t know, why wouldn’t it be alright?” I said, “do you have a problem with me?” He said, “I don’t know, why would I have a problem with you?” Something along those lines. I looked to the other teacher in the room for help, but she made a gesture indicating that she wanted nothing to do with either of us.
I went to the front desk receptionist, who was my main contact at Dwight. She told me to go to the HR manager, which I did, tearing up as I told her what had just happened. I thought that Sand’s actions might have been motivated by my anti-occupation politics, which I thought I might have let slip around him. (This was just after I’d joined IfNotNow.) It wasn’t until a couple days later that my girlfriend and her female friend helped me understand that it was actually a case of sexual harassment.
HR talked to Sand, but he continued to work at the school. I made a point of avoiding the teacher’s lounge, where he often did work, but found myself there for one reason or another a couple weeks later. Sand was there as well. He received a phone call, and took it just outside the room, with his back turned to (and effectively covering) the one exit from the teacher’s lounge. The bell started to ring and I needed to go to class, and I had no intent of trying get his attention in any way in an effort to get him to move. So I snuck by him, and my arm grazed his. I kept walking, and heard him angrily say something like, “hey, you need to watch where you’re going.” Rather than engage, I said something flippant like, “thanks for letting me know, man.”
I then heard footsteps racing towards me, and felt his hand on the back of my neck. I don’t remember exactly what he said, but I remember that his tone was filled with venom. His mouth was almost touching my ear, but he wasn’t whispering. He was spitting every word. He said something to the effect of, “I know what you did,” and then said the one thing I do remember: “You piece of filth.”
The whole school was watching- remember, the bell had just rung, and students and teachers were switching classes. As soon as he let my neck go, Sand practically ran out the front door and to the HR office, which was a couple blocks away. He wanted to give his story before I got the chance.
I eventually spoke to HR, sobbing as I processed what had happened. They looked at the tape of what he’d done, and fired Sand. I continued at Dwight through the end of the year, and have thankfully not had to teach there since.
This was the only time harassment has ever happened to me as a man; the women whom I’ve mistreated have surely experienced similar mistreatment countless times. I’m not sure what I’m seeking by writing all this. If you’re a man who’s acted similarly to how I’ve acted, or has been treated similarly, and you’re confused, message me. #BelieveWomen