Please use your voice wisely: The Court of Creep

Disturbing things are happening on the internet. tl;dr: A teen on tumblr called John Green creepy, someone else demanded he defend himself against accusations of harassment/abuse, he got upset, his friends and other writers jumped in to defend him and, in some cases, remind teens that publicly saying "he's creepy" doesn't mean he's a child molester. Then some other folks jumped in to remind *them* that telling teen girls to shut up when they're feeling creeped on isn't cool, and what's more, that privileged white adult writers need to be better allies for their audience.

In other words: People got upset for several legitimate reasons. 

And that makes me want to tell a story.

Back in high school, I had two male teachers. Let's call them Mr. Smith and Mr. Jones. 

Now, Mr. Smith was creepy. When my girlfriends and I discussed him, we did that teeth-gritted shiver. CREEPY. No one wanted to have him as a teacher or be in his classroom. Not that he ever did anything inappropriate or said anything abusive or threatening or gross or touched anyone. He just... looked creepy. Dressed creepy. Our gut instincts told us he was flat out freaking creepy.

Mr. Jones, on the other hand, was cool. Everyone wanted to be in his classes. He'd even been my basketball coach and was the dad of an acquaintance. I'd known him for most of my life. He let us watch movies, played board games with us, cracked jokes, and was well-liked by everyone.

When I turned 18, Mr. Jones touched me inappropriately. And I told myself that maybe I was imagining it. That surely he hadn't meant to do that. That I was imagining things.

And then he did it again.

When I mentioned this to my girlfriends, the truth came out: He'd done it to all of us. And we all hoped it was just an accident, because surely Mr. Jones was too cool to do that. Because adults weren't supposed to do that. Because we trusted him and liked him.

So we took it to a teacher, and she took it to the principal, and soon we were being interviewed separately to get all the facts. I was ashamed, but I told the truth, anyway. So did my friends. So did other girls who had stepped up. At the end of the interview, they asked me one more question. What about creepy ol' Mr. Smith? Had he ever tried anything funny?

And I thought back. He was creepy. I thought so. Everyone did. 

But I didn't say that. I told the truth: No, Mr. Smith had never done anything inappropriate.

Mr. Jones got fired. Mr. Smith did not.

As an adult, looking back, I'm mortified by the amount of power I wielded in that moment. One false word from me, one assumption, and a man could've lost his job, possibly his career and reputation. Just because he wasn't friendly and fun and cool and didn't look the way I wanted an adult to look, I'd decided that Mr. Smith was a creeper. He had actually done nothing wrong. 

And this is the double-edged sword of having a voice: You can use that voice to help or harm.

When someone is listening to you, they want the truth. The truth can get a child molester out of a school before he can do real harm and damage someone forever. But telling the truth and wielding that kind of power is heady and intoxicating. It feels good to be heard, to have that power, especially if you're someone whose voice has been silenced in the past, someone who feels helpless or mute in their life situation.

When you use your voice to make assumptions, to say something flippant that might be true or to treat an assumption as a reality, you can destroy lives.

Now, I don't personally know John Green or most of the authors who defended him. I did not make my feelings about what occurred public because this is not my fight. But when folks start attacking Chuck Wendig--now, that I take offense to. I haven't read every tweet or blog post that Chuck has made, but he's one of my best friends in the writing world, and he'd probably take a bullet for me, provided it landed in an area that wouldn't kill him. And he's doing the best he can to be an ally and to use his megaphone for good. He owns his privilege, and when someone tells him to listen, he listens. That doesn't mean he's right all the time, but it means he's trying to help. 

Chuck got attacked on social media today in a personal and dangerous way. I read the chain of what happened, saw what was being said. And I can't fault his attackers for their feelings and would not seek to silence their voices. But I wish we could all step back for a moment and see that no one here is telling teens to shut up or to ignore their gut instincts. What they're saying is that unless someone has evidence, they probably shouldn't go online and spread rumors that could ruin someone's life. It's not an adult vs. teen thing, not a race thing, not a man vs. woman thing. It's a The Internet Gives You a Voice and a Megaphone; Please Don't Use It to Ruin the Lives of Innocent People thing.

Even posting this, I'm worried I'll get attacked. That I've said something wrong, or that someone will accuse me of urging young women into silence. I don't want you to be silent. When you feel oppressed, I want you to tell people. When you are harmed, I want you to tell people. But when you're not quite sure, when you just have this feeling, when you don't like something and want to lash out... I hope you'll wisely use your energy for something else.

That same year that I helped get Mr. Jones fired, I was raped by an ex-boyfriend. He was the son of two teachers, popular and admired around the school. And when I told my friends, they didn't believe me. Surely he wouldn't do that; he was in the Honor Society! I told a teacher and mentor I trusted and asked her if she thought I should go to the police, and she told me no. She said there wasn't enough evidence and no one would believe me. And that it would reflect poorly on me anyway, make me look like an attention-seeking whiner and liar.

Because she told me not to use my voice, I didn't tell anyone in power, and that's one of my greatest regrets. Sure, I told several of the girls who dated him that they needed to be careful, up until he left for college and I lost track. But I didn't trust my own voice, and to this day, I wonder if he hurt other girls, other girls who thought no one would believe them. I wonder if anything I could've said or done would've saved them. I'll never know. And that's why I'll never tell teen girls to shut up, but I will encourage them to speak wisely.

It takes time and experience and confidence to find your voice.

Please, use it for good.