The Saga Of Someone

This was originally published on June 19, 2013.
It would be wonderful if I could say that this kind of thing does not happen anymore.
That cannot be said because it still happens.
When asked, most women have a story.

Their stories may differ.
However, the underlying root cause is the same.
The abuser has a need for power and control.
The abuser disrespects and objectifies women.

It is wrong.
It must stop.
There is no excuse.
There is never a reason for staying on the sidelines and remaining silent.

 

I worked for a bank when I was in college.
I worked part time during the school year and full time in the summer.
It was a blessing to have a full time job each year from May to September.
I was grateful for the work.

I was a floating bank teller throughout the summer.
I went to whatever branch needed vacation coverage.
I finally settled in one location, in a charming little town.
An interesting journey got me there.

There was one branch office where no one wanted to work.
I did not have the luxury of refusal, so I reported for work early Monday morning.
The branch was right on the outskirts of Philadelphia.
I walked in and was surprised at what I saw.

Plexiglass went from the counter to the ceiling with only a slot to slip the money through.
Buzzers and locks were everywhere with no easy access to anything.
The branch was the scene of quite a few robberies.
The management took all sorts of precautions.

What I loved about my job was the people, seeing the customers and talking to them.
What I disliked about this branch was how cold and sterile it felt.
You talked to the customer through a slotted speaker directly in front of you.
You slipped pens through a small opening if someone needed to endorse a check.

I knew that I would only be in the branch for about a month.
I tried to make the best of it.
I offered a smile to anyone who came to my window.
I did my best and tried to forget about the possible dangers.

The branch manager made me feel very uncomfortable.
He would buzz into our teller area and find the need to rub our backs or shoulders.
He stopped to talk to some tellers more than others as we were trying to work.
He reprimanded us loudly for the littlest thing.

There was talk and rumors about him, which I tried to ignore.
The longer I worked there, the more I saw.
I always tried to walk away when he was nearby.
Banks were not open on weekends but were open until 7 pm on a Friday night.

The other tellers I worked with were very nice.
I made friends with one girl in particular who was closer to my age.
It helped that we sat next to each other in our Plexiglass box.
She felt uncomfortable as well but never said anything because she needed her job.

The Friday before my last week at this branch was a terribly rainy day.
We were all expected to leave together each Friday night as the branch manager locked up.
The employee lunch room, where we kept our belongings, was downstairs.
That night, I realized that I left my umbrella there.

I asked my friend to wait for me near the vestibule.

As everyone was gathering their things, I quickly ran downstairs.
I came right back up with my umbrella in hand.
When I got to the top of the stairs, everyone was gone.
Everyone but the branch manager who was blocking the doorway.

Where is everyone? I asked, trying to stay calm.
I let them go.
It is raining so hard.
He had a smirk on his face.

He would not move away from the doorway.
He moved his hands and placed them on either side of the door frame.
When I moved, he moved the same way.
Please, get out of my way! I said as calmly as I possibly could.

The bank manager just stood there.
He just stood there laughing.
He never said a word.
He remained there, blocking my exit.

I had no idea if the door behind him was locked.
With determination and speed, I ducked under his arm.
I pushed open the door, which he had not locked and ran to my car.
I could hear him laughing in the distance as the rain drenched my clothes.

I cried all the way home.
Things could have turned out very differently.
Why should I have to put up with this kind of behavior?
Why should any woman have to put up with it?

Monday morning came, which would have been my last week at that particular office.
I went to the main office instead and talked to the regional manager.
I told her that I will not work in that branch office again.
She could put me anywhere else but not there.

Can I ask you why? she said calmly.
I cannot work with that manager.
He is inappropriate and I am uncomfortable around him, I said with determination.
I see. I understand. You will be permanently placed here in this office, she said kindly.

I was placed at the branch office in the charming little town.
The branch office in the town with the park benches and the trees.
The branch office with no Plexiglass boxes.
The branch office that was far away from a certain manager.

Someone had to work in the other office.
Someone had to work with his inappropriate talk and touches.
Someone had to deal with him day in and day out because they needed the work.
Someone had to smile and try to do their best under the circumstances.

No one should have to put up with that!

Do not rebuke and older man harshly, but exhort him as if he were your father. Treat younger men as brothers, older women as mothers and younger women as sisters, with absolute purity. (1 Timothy 5:1,2)

When control is all you care about, purity is never important.
The branch manager felt strong when he made someone else feel weak.

The cross demonstrated strength through weakness.
Because of Jesus, we stand victorious.

But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things, and the things that are not, to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before Him. It is because of Him that you are in Christ Jesus who has become for us the wisdom of God, that is our righteousness, holiness and redemption. (1 Corinthians 1:27-30)

I never saw that branch manager again.
I heard that he was eventually fired.
There were too many other “someones”.
There are far too many “someones” in various places and not enough voices to stop them.

Lord Jesus, purify our hearts, our minds, and our actions.
Make us more like You.
Give us the courage to stand against abuse of any kind.
Give us the courage to speak up and say, NO!

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This short video came up on my news feed.
It is timely in light of the title of this post.
SHE IS SOMEONE!
https://www.facebook.com/NowThisNews/videos/1079936492096474/