Why I didn't speak up

It takes a lot of time and effort to land a job interview, and it gets a lot more difficult during the coronavirus pandemic. I attended an interview yesterday, and I was super excited about it.  Everything was hunky-dory until the hiring manager dared to make a comment with sexual innuendo. Yes, he said that during a Zoom call while the owner of the company, a woman, was listening to the entire conversation. In the garb of a joke, what he said in Malayalam, our mother tongue, was downright offensive and sexual in every possible way. Then he laughed off as if the comment was far from demeaning. The owner, a non-Malayalee, couldn’t decipher that his comment was gross and disgusting. She dismissed it as a causal joke.

I couldn't. I was shocked and was not in a position to talk. It took a few seconds for me to gather my thoughts and mumble out a reply. After the call, I spoke to the owner of the company and politely declined the opportunity.

But the incident got me thinking. Should I have done it differently? But then again, I cannot even imagine working with a man who unapologetically makes sexual comments at work. Should I have called him out? I wanted to, but I focused more on ending the conversation without being rude, disrespectful, or unprofessional. Yes, I chose silence instead of career suicide, shaming, and depression. Many women like me face such experiences in silence to keep career wheels running on the track. I know I should not have done that, but I did not want to put my career on the line. 

Why do we suffer in silence? Why do we let harassers get away with what they do to us? I think it is due to our innate fear of not wanting to be branded as “troublemaker”. Another reason is the fear of losing potential career opportunities. We also dread the possibilities of character assassination. Even if we muster the courage to speak up and take a strong stand, our words either fall on deaf ears or we are told not to make a "fuss" about "it". It is sad that harassers always get defensive and justify their actions, and those who rally around to support them will jump in and pronounce the verdict that the women who complained are "overreacting" or might have "misunderstood" the men in question. Or worse, together they ostracize and penalize women who are bold enough to stand up against what is wrong.

I wanted to stand up for myself and give a piece of my mind to the man who humiliated me. But I took a step back and told myself to let go. Apart from shaming and psychological trauma, I was afraid of retaliation as well. I was facing a man who is way up on the hierarchy ladder and has power and authority at his disposal. It means standing up for myself or going public will disrupt my life in unimaginable ways. I have to earn my bread and butter and support my family. So, I chose my career over my self-respect; and to avoid bad blood, I hid in the garb of silence. You may disagree with me and the way I rationalize my silence, but I also know that no one will support me if I dare to speak out. 

When the offender holds a high job status than me, silence will help safeguard the career I built up with years of sweat and blood. Yes, the price of speaking up can be high. So, I could not speak up, or I chose not to speak up. Instead, I chose my blog as a cathartic outlet to jot down my experience. This honest and unreserved account of what I went through is my way of unburdening the shame and anger that I've been carrying for the last few days.

As long as men dominate the positions of power and women like me live with the fear of being at the receiving end of backlash, I think silence is the best way to stay afloat peacefully. As we all know, the corporate world is a male terrain. So why invite trouble by speaking up when one can choose stay silent, walk away, and let karma do it's thing?