Speaking up was a good thing to do--even after many years!

[countrygirl]

Hello,

This a somewhat different kind of interaction.  Many years ago, a friend and I took a trip to tour the home of Emily Dickinson, in Amherst MA.  I organized the trip and drove there and back. I also paid for most of the expenses.

We visited Dickinson's home and the nearby home of her brother-in-law.  We also went to Dickinson's grave.  We both love her poetry, so were moved to make this pilgrimage.  In the house, as you come up the stairs, you see one of Dickinson's white dresses, suspended.  It's almost as if she is there. 

Our tour culminated in a trip to the Jones Library's Special Collections, to see some of her manuscripts.  A librarian, or possibly a docent, greeted us. She was a refined looking and speaking middle-aged woman, much like the docents at both houses.  She had us wait in a room while she went to get the manuscripts.  Then she placed them squarely in front of my friend, and proceeded to address all of her comments to her. 

Then she asked us to wait again, and she photocopied one of the poems, and presented it to my friend.  My friend cooed, and the woman said, "I can always tell when someone has a special affinity for Dickinson." I was so nonplussed that I said nothing. I was shocked that this normal-looking and seeming woman had behaved this way, although all of us here know how often normal seeming people can behave in hurtful ways.

My friend and I never discussed this, but when we returned home, she made a photocopy of the photocopy, giving it to  me when we next met.  She said,  "There was nothing I could do," in reference to how the librarian had excluded me. 

I thanked her, but the photocopy was so faint that I couldn't read it, probably because the original photocopy was so faint. It was like a visual reminder of how I felt almost as if I didn't exist when standing in the room with my friend and the librarian.

Actually, my friend should have spoken up.  She should have said, "My friend also likes Dickinson.  Could you please make another photocopy for her?"  But my friend relished the special attention in the "special collections" room. (It was also hurtful because I had planned the trip and funded most of it...)

As I was thinking about this only a few weeks ago, I thought, 'I should have said something!' But all of my life libraries have seemed almost like places of worship to me.  I've always loved them, and of course, they are quiet!

However, I decided, "Better late than never," and I wrote the Special Collections at that library, describing how I'd been treated all those years ago. I didn't describe the librarian, not even in the limited way I did here.  But I described how this interaction had made me feel, saying that literature is for all, and that I was sure Emily Dickinson wouldn't have liked to know that the person in charge of these manuscripts was acting as a gatekeeper, deciding appreciated her work and whodidn't, who was worthy. 

I received a lovely letter in reply, with apologies, and with downloads of the four poems they house there.  She said she hoped I could scan them, and could enjoy reading them.  I do!  And I love seeing the autographed ones, with "Emily" in Dickinson's hand.  I replied, thanking the librarian, and telling her that her words and gestures had helped me feel good about their library once again.

I share this because it illustrates how important it is to speak up for ourselves when others are not showing us common human respect. It helped me to do so, even after a long time. I think it's never too late to make your case, in fact, even if the other person has passed. In a sense, that is what we are doing when we post here and when we reply to others. We are giving ourselves the good attention we did not receive, whether in "small" interactions or in important relationships. 

[Catothecat]

I don't know about anyone else here, but I was raised not to "speak up" because my parents were of the children-should-be-seen-and-not-heard mindset, especially my father.  Defending myself or even making a simple correction or clarification would bring a withering remark or putdown, as if I had no right to my words.  So I learned not to react.  Then I had to learn how to not not react. 

The incident you describe reminded me of an interaction I had with a friend a few years ago.  This friend loves being the center of attention although she likes to present herself as just the opposite.  She's full of false modesty.  I've known her for decades and she's always treated me as some sort of side-kick who's there because I'm of use to her.  I never gave my "position" much thought until one day when we were with another friend.  We all belong to a large social organization and my friend has been very active in the organization for a long time so knows everyone. So we were all together when she met someone she knew and started chatting with him while I and the other friend just stood there being ignored.  The other friend said, aren't you going to introduce me?  My friend looked startled and gave the introduction, to me as well.  I turned to the other friend and said, don't feel special.  She never introduces me to anyone, either.  The friend immediately began protesting and I repeated, no you don't.   

It hurts being ignored, especially when you have an equal footing in the situation.  You weren't there as someone who just wandered by.  But I probably would've reacted as you did--in shocked silence. And I agree that your friend should've spoken up, but people react as they are trained to do in the moment.  You felt ignored and stayed silent, she felt special and fell under the spell of feeling special. Outside of the moment is when you come to your senses and then it can feel like it's too late.  Except, it's not.  If someone doesn't like you asserting yourself when you're in the right, that's their problem.  It's not like you're creating an issue or making a big deal out of nothing.  What we feel isn't nothing. 

I'm glad you did what you finally did, countrygirl. It's really never too late to address an issue, even if it seemingly does no good.  It's too easy to make that assumption--what's the point?  Why bother now?  But when we do that, we send a signal to others that they can continue their bad behavior without consequences.  When you sent your letter, you basically sent it into a void, not knowing what the result might be, or even knowing if it would be read and taken seriously.  But you got back a positive validation which made it worth your time and effort.  And honesty, that's what you should get back.  We should have basic expectations of decent, respectful behavior from others.  Some people will say that's too high of an expectation and get back to reality, but that's just their opinion.  We don't have to accept it as unassailable truth.

[countrygirl]

Hi Catothecat!

I was also raised not to speak up and not to talk back. I ended up being very shy, and then my father would say, "You aren't an introvert, are you?," as if that was the worst thing anyone could be. Of course being "accused" that way made me even more self-conscious.  It took me many years to overcome my shyness.

As you can imagine, I can certainly relate to your story about being with your friend at the social gathering, while she chatted away to that man, leaving you and the other woman standing there as if you were two potted plants.  It is good the other person asked if she were going to introduce you, and it's great that you said she never introduced you, and that you insisted that it was true when she tried to deny it.

I am sure that it won't surprise you to learn that my "library friend" did a similar thing to me, when we were standing with someone she knew.  He kept looking at me, and I looked at him, but she didn't introduce us.  I think he felt awkward and I felt awkward.  One or both of us should have spoken up, as you and the other woman did.

You are correct that my friend was luxuriating in the "special attention" she was receiving in the "special collections" room.  She wasn't about to do anything to burst that bubble.  But she added insult to injury when she later said, "There was nothing I could do." Of course there was.

I agree with you, Catothecat, that we should expect decent, respectful behavior from others. And when we feel strong enough to do so, we should always speak up for that when we can.

By the way, you are correct when you said I sent that letter into the void.  I wondered if I would receive a reply, and told myself that even if I didn't, at least I had spoken up. In truth, that's all we can ever do.

An added benefit is that I've been rereading Emily Dickinson. She basically retreated to her room--except she was very close to her family and some friends--yet in her seclusion, she spoke to the world and still speaks.  I'm going to spend more time with her today. And I've enjoyed speaking with you here!     

[Catothecat]

It was the pattern of behavior that finally got me to speak up, countrygirl. It's a shame it took so long, but the friend I mentioned had been doing variations of this type of behavior for years and I was just tired of it.  I was tired of being in the background, part of the scenery.  If it had been a one-off or only something done rarely I would've overlooked it.  But it wasn't.  And so, by speaking up, I let her know I was aware of her behavior and didn't like it.  What she did with that information was up to her. 

I could've chosen to let it go one more time, but I was tired of always dealing with one more time. 

And oh--my father used to call being introverted "being backwards," i.e. the same as being stupid.  So he'd often berate me by calling me "backwards."  Great father I had.

[countrygirl]

Yes, I can certainly understand being fed up with repeated bad behavior.  It is so good that you spoke up, because I think these difficult people often get by with their behavior because others don't want to confront them.   

It is really something that your father said being introverted was being "backwards," so he was calling you "stupid."  I am sorry that you had to endure that.  When my father asked,  "You aren't introverted, are you?" he sounded so scornful. And the irony is that being addressed this way is enough to make any child quiet and retiring. 

As an aside, one thing I've noted that that when someone who is normally reserved does speak, others often tend to listen:  They know that the quiet person really feels what they are saying, because it takes a lot to make them speak up.

[Call Me Cordelia]

When my father asked,  "You aren't introverted, are you?" he sounded so scornful. And the irony is that being addressed this way is enough to make any child quiet and retiring. 

So true. But you know that there will not be the self-awareness to make the parent realize they are just making things harder for the kid. With my father, it was, "Stop being so self-conscious!!!" when I was simply trying to avoid his everlasting nitpicking. I even did say, around age 12, "Maybe if you wouldn't yell at me for every little thing, I wouldn't be self-conscious!" That simply caused an enormous fight. So my father was less mature than I was at age 12. Brilliant.

But to the point of this thread, yes, we were trained from the youngest age to stay with the social skills of immaturity. So when we do grow into adult behaviors against all odds, it really is something to celebrate. 

[countrygirl]

Hi Call Me Cordelia,

I think a lot of people lack self-awareness, and some don't want to acquire it, because they are afraid of what they might see.

It is good that you stood up to your father when you were twelve, but of course rather than considering the truth of what you were saying, he got angry at you.  This was generally my father's reaction too.   

Yes, it is a real struggle to survive and thrive with parents like these, and cause for celebration when we do.