Dear Everybody in Entertainment
Preface: When I was 10 years old, I was left alone by my well-meaning father in a childrens’ library, and cornered by a man who made direct eye contact with me, then showed me his penis. At first, I wasn’t even sure what it was. But I knew to be afraid for my life; I knew that he was predator, and I was prey. Careful not to upset him, I stood up and pretended to read a book at a table. I held back tears while he prowled the library, peering at me through book-shelves. My instinct told me to get to the adults — to pretend to check out a book.
When I got to the front of the line, I told the librarian what happened. The man jetted away. I burst into tears. She called my parents. They called the cops. I learned the word for exhibitionist. The word for flasher. The word for victim. I learned that there are really bad men out there — but, unfortunately — this is life.
This first violation has shaped my sexuality, girlhood, and personhood to this day. Much of my work, I write to give voice to my inner 10 year old, who remains victim to an inept patriarchal world.
The stories about Louis CK unearth my trauma. So too does the entire “After Weinstein” list of abusers. My inner 10 year old does not feel empowered. She is afraid, and she is sick. I wrote this piece for her, and for all of us whose self-ownership has been twisted by undeserved violation. Because I believe entertainment has the power to transform our world — and so do you.
Dear Everybody in Entertainment,
I’m heartbroken to write this because, given our shared humanity, these feel like words people shouldn’t have to say.
But this moment is too important, and so is each one of you.
I am writing to you because as millions of women have come forward about their experiences of abuse in every industry: I would like to make some things explicit.
If you are shocked, appalled, disgusted, grieving — this is actually very good. Because now, if you haven’t already — you can join me in grieving the “knowing.”
The ever present “knowing” I’ve experienced since childhood — the “knowing” that even though I was 10 or 13, there were older men out there who saw me as a sexual object to be violated and claimed. That was only the start.
My whole life I’ve been haunted by a deep “knowing” that though my story of multiple violations very much mattered to me — to the world, it didn’t matter that much. It was a “tut, tut,” a sob story, a source of shame. “It” was “normal” but somehow I was not for being victim, for never being able to fully put the knowing away. And life would just keep rolling on.
I implore us all to not let life keep rolling on.
You may not believe that your actions are important. You may be scrambling for your next gig, insecure about your next project, or waiting for your next paycheck. You may not like confrontation. You may be depressed. You may be paranoid. You may be ill, have a dying parent, or simply distracted by an addiction to social media. You may be above the line, below the line, an office assistant, an executive. You may work in independent film, or at a major studio. You may be moving so quickly you barely have time to think.
No matter your circumstance: you have more power than you know, more power and influence than you give yourself credit for.
As a little girl, I looked up to famous directors, writers and performers, and admired you from the bottom of my heart for your great sphere of influence.
As an adult woman living in Los Angeles, I’ve learned that when that influence comes largely from a homogenous group of people — many of whom are liberal and good-intentioned — but unaware of their own ignorance and privilege — we have a major problem that affects our entire society.
The power of media to influence consciousness is that strong.
When I first got to LA as an auditioning actor, within two years I stopped pursuing acting jobs. My agent told me to lose weight, and I had too many auditions that made me feel devalued and disheartened. I wasn’t willing to break in at a level that felt dehumanizing, and I knew that I could create my own work. Need I also mention Hollywood breakdowns for women and minorities. Some are egregiously disgusting and below my dignity of including them here. (This Vulture post about the CBS “Diversity” program is illuminating on the matter.)
I was compelled to start over in a new craft (directing) because I encountered misogyny and desired to participate in changing the system.
As an independent director and producer, I have more of a say about how my work environments are run. I have a greater chance to create a safe space for my collaborators, and make work that challenges the status quo.
I know that many of us in entertainment have encountered psychologically, emotionally or sexually abusive environments, to the point that it has made us all numb. This business is brutal, and numbness is justified.
And maybe you too were raised to be strong — gritty enough to push through your pain with a smile. But this issue is beyond personal strength, and beyond what we are able to endure: it is about cultivating a culture of respect and dignity for all.
I ask us all to become even more uncomfortable. I ask that we thaw out any remaining numbness, and keep our eyes peeled for the vulnerable (including ourselves), and protect them.
If you are here, and you have any kind of privilege (white, male, able-bodied, financial, academic, or social) — I ask you to please recognize that you have the power to create change in areas that those with less privilege do not.
On every set you go to, in every meeting with an agent, in every meeting with every director, producer, or actor — you have the choice to NOT laugh at that gross joke, and you have the choice to NOT make misogyny in our industry okay.
You have the choice to proactively hire women and people of color who are invested in changing this misogynistic and racist culture. Work with people committed to setting the right tone in your work environments moving forward. Only work with people in power who treat your entire cast and crew with dignity. Prioritize inclusiveness, and a set culture of respect.
You set the tone, with your words and actions. You say upfront to everybody on set or in your office that if they ever encounter an issue, they can come to you. That you are an open door to talk about any kind of harassment or abuse, because surely your eyes can’t be on every moment, but if it happens, I implore you to make clear to everyone working with you that you will be there for them and take appropriate action.
You believe the women, LGBTQ, and people of color in your work place, and in your daily life, when they tell you what happens to them at work, and how it makes them feel.
Because the way we experience the world matters.
So you will proactively make our feelings matter.
Here’s a tool, to commit to memory:
1. Thank you for telling me.
2. I believe you.
3. It’s not your fault.
4. I will help you get the help you need.
And then you will help.
You will fire at the first whiff of abuse — because those inappropriate flickers of anger, the derogatory jokes, the withering asides — they are not innocuous.
Those “dismissible” behaviors — rude and lewd comments — are the way predators groom prey to later accept larger actions of abuse. They are triggering red flags to victims — which as you now know, is all of us.
Small acts of aggression serve to foreshadow deeper harm, and should be treated that way. We all must educate ourselves on sexual harassment and workplace abuse, so we can easily identify it and swiftly have the skills to deal with it.
When you see, feel or hear of these things happening: DO SOMETHING.
I choose to believe (because I must believe to survive my time on this planet.) that our hearts have good intentions. But this is beyond good intentions.
This is a matter of persistent action.
We must become aware of our own experiences with abuse — both giving and receiving — that we have swept under the rug.
We must sharpen our skill sets to learn how to protect others from the kinds of abuses we may have never been victim to, so otherwise would not see.
Never underestimate your sphere of influence. When you are passive in the face of mistreatment, you are complicit in fostering a culture of injustice and abuse. But when you stand up, you have the power to raise consciousness and inspire endless ripples of change.
And dear everybody — I would prefer to not have to deal with this, either.
I would love the luxury of choice to participate, to focus on exercising my creativity, and endeavoring to make profitable work.
But there’s a reason why I can’t stop telling stories about reclaiming my body, and overcoming abuse. It’s because I have never been able to fully compartmentalize the thousands of years of oppression we must now unravel.
Oppression that interferes with all our well-being, and true equality.
Oppression that makes us sick, and seeps into children’s libraries, where little girls are trying to learn.
For me.
For you.
For our grandparents and generations before us, who never knew a world of Wonder Women.
For our children, who deserve infinitely better.
For our collective integrity.
I challenge us all to change the fucking system.
Thank you for reading. Thank you for your time.
Sincerely,
Melanie Zoey Weinstein (no relation.)
