I'm finally responding to #freekesha and I know I'm late with this. Sorry.
The thing that made me the most sad about Kesha's defeat in court was the fact that she was a woman who had way more power and more evidence than me. But no one believed her and no one protected her. Her word was not good enough. I remember my dad telling me that if I get harassed again at work I shouldn't bring it straight to the manager or human resources. I should talk to him first because even when it's not your fault, you can still be the one who gets in trouble in the end. And the message I got from Kesha's court case was that dad was right and that nobody is here for me. I felt like the Justice system told me that I have no voice and that nobody will ever believe me. Especially since I had no hard evidence, I had nothing on record, I had nothing that I could get tested in the lab. My perpetrator always made sure my manager wasn't around so he could interrupt my work and bother me. That meant that I had no witnesses either. I made a lot of mistakes myself in the situation because I did not expect the situation to turn out the way it did. I wasn't being the perfect victim and that's why the story isn't credible. The perfect victim thinks ahead of time to record every counter she has with a male in the workplace so she can readily bring it to human resources when the time comes. The perfect victim is not friendly to any male colleague she sees. That way, she can say that she was never inviting the victim to bother her. The perfect victim has a kit on hand to collect the evidence she needs. The perfect victim always has a tiny camera clipped to her clothing to capture every single second she spends at work. And the perfect victim has read a textbook on protecting herself from harassment so she can evaluate every situation effectively and with great detail. But regardless of what a perfect victim is, I wonder how effective being one would be. Kesha did a far better job at this than I did but she's still stuck. I am lucky I never had to experience an ordeal as traumatic as Kesha's, but still, it should be my basic human right to feel safe at work, and I didn't exercise it effectively. I just gave the guy the cold shoulder and avoided him like the plague so that eventually, he got the message. Why? Because I had the irrational fear of being punished for doing the right thing even if my manager probably would've helped me. The reason I stayed silent the moment the news broke out about Kesha's defeat is because I felt defeated too. I didn't know the right words to say and I felt weird making this story about me but in reality, it's about everyone. We never think that it could happen to us or anyone we know. We always say, "Not me," "Not my daughter," "Are you sure?" or "Don't be so silly, you're overreacting," and more. I now realize that when we take people's precautions too lightly and we don't accept the word of the victim until proven otherwise, we are maintaining the status quo. We aren't helping people feel safe because we aren't judging the situation effectively by saying "Why didn't you do such and such to defend yourself?". We are just putting them down for making a choice that they now realize is wrong. I'm guilty of this poor attitude because I faced risky situations before and turned out okay, and I've seen certain things in a particular situation that other victims in a similar situation didn't see. That thinking is like beer goggles for moral judgement because we lose our empathy for others when it matters most. I have nothing to prove to human resources and the situation is long gone. But I'm not afraid to talk about what happened especially when I remember every detail. I think talking about it makes it easier for me to cope and move on at the very least. What I can do now is keep learning, be proactive, be assertive, be vigilant, be open, and be kind to people who allow themselves to be vulnerable to me. And most importantly, don't harshly judge somebody for not being "smart." In this world, we cannot afford to lose each other over petty judgements that we make too quickly.