What’s the Me Too Movement Got to Do With Me? By Ericka Foster
When I was in the first grade, a little boy in my class liked to feel on the little girls’ booties when the teacher wasn’t looking. I was a shy five-year-old, afraid of drawing attention to myself and terrified of confrontation. I was also still new to school, and learning the ins and outs of how things were supposed to be. So my goal was to evade this little boy, trying to be three steps ahead whenever our first grade teacher put us in a line. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn’t. One day, as we were all seated on the floor watching a movie, he did his usual thing, copping a feel while the teacher was in the front of the class. I tried scooting a little to the right, or a little to the left, but I was out of options. He got greedy. He tried to do the same thing to Nicole B who was seated next to me. (I remember everyone’s name, but in that moment, Nicole was my hero and needs a shout out). She punched him hard. Several times. Like a girl who grew up with brothers. I had confirmation that it was ok for me to not want him to touch me like that. And I felt a sense of relief that if he did it to other girls, he was the problem, not me. Nicole didn’t punch that boy just to defend herself; she was defending me too, when I was too scared to do so on my own.
This movement is about HEALING not accusing. I know that many of you reading this are like, “Really? She’s tripping over a little boy copping a feel in the first grade?” In fact, when I mentioned it to my college roommate, she blew it off like, “Oh girl, me too. That happens to everybody.” Telling this story is weird. This story is part of who I am, and has influenced who I think I am, and how I view the world. But, I know that in the range of sexual harassment and sexual assault, I’m lucky that this is my story. However, I don’t want to minimize it. As women, that’s what we are told to do – accept it. That somehow, we’re supposed to endure unwanted touching and sexual aggression as a part of womanhood. I shouldn’t have to feel “lucky” that a little boy *only* copped a feel from me in elementary school. My point in sharing this story is – if I can remember the events and feelings 35 years later, then even the smallest things can have a large impact on who you are.
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