When ugly childhood play grows old

Jennifer Ditlevson Haglund

Santa makes lists, separating the naughty from the nice. When I was in grade school and barely past the age of believing in the jolly elf–spy, I found myself more concerned about another list composed and circulated by a cute, unruly dark-haired boy in my class. Instead of tracking our behavior alone, he ranked our looks, too.

When he should have been finishing his math, he surveyed all his female classmates and calculated their worthiness. If a girl was “pretty,” that was a plus. Being “pretty” and “nice,” however, set her up for special attention. She wouldn’t be subjected to taunts about her weight or his athletic superiority; she’d get the better Valentines and could make the top of “the list” that he updated weekly.

As much as I hated that list, I wanted to see it. When I did, I envied the girls ahead of me. If I could put up with him calling me a smarty pants and not retaliate as I rightly would, I might inch my way into acceptance at my new school.

Somehow, hardly after reaching double digits, the kid had mastered manipulation. If a girl wouldn’t “go out” with him or withstand his bullying, he’d pull his list from his desk, scribble out her name, and bump someone else to her place. Even worse, he’d deliver a blow to her social capital by crossing out “nice” or “pretty” or both, and write “mean” and “ugly.”

Maybe the story is easy to dismiss because practices like this are so common, and because most people know and love — or perhaps have been — someone who has devalued people through warped sexual behaviors at least at one point in their lives. But just because something is normal doesn’t make it OK. My classmate’s list wasn’t as innocent as a boy acting childishly. It was a blueprint for how much of the sexual harassment, misconduct, and assault allegations began long before any of the accused came to power.

As I’ve watched and listened to case after case of allegations following the Weinstein scandal blowup, the hardest part for me has been the shock. I expected people to disbelieve victims and to assume that speaking out later, sometimes decades removed from the incidents, came from political motivations. I did not anticipate so many people to shake their heads and wonder how this happened.

I lived the first half of my life wishing I could make someone’s “pretty” list while also doing everything I enjoyed. In the last 15 years, I realized it’s often a prerequisite to doing some of those things, and making money doing them. When I interviewed for reporting positions after college, I sat through one in which I was told by a powerful man in the room that his son, who also had been in my class, “sure missed out” when he lost touch with me.

Sitting there, wanting a job so I could stay close to my boyfriend and use my bachelor’s degree, I smiled but squirmed because I knew that after all the work I did, no matter how I performed as an intern or what I did as the editor of my college newspaper for two years, I had to rely, at least in part, on making someone else’s list again. Because that’s how things work.

Maybe he liked my resume and experience. That might have assured him I wouldn’t screw up too much as a rookie, but it also put me at odds with potential future co-workers who were more or less “pretty,” or just “pretty” and not “nice,” or merely “nice” or “smart” but not “pretty” enough to be gossiped about.

Those ready with quick rebuttals to this, adding that women also sexually harass men or that men prey on men as well aren’t hearing me, because it’s too hard to admit that predatory and abusive behavior in men begins young. It’s so normalized that we’re missing chances to teach people, starting with children, what is appropriate and right.

While I have no faith that abuse of power, particularly through means of various forms of sexual exploitation, will ever end, I hope for more victims to see those who injured them to face consequences. Although I hate that the tragedy of shared experience is so widespread, it’s time people stop being shocked and start doing something.

Jennifer Ditlevson Haglund is a former news reporter for the Maryville Daily Forum, now living and writing in Ohio.