On Being Polite

“I remember manners, that's when people are scared to make other persons mad.” 
― Emma Donoghue, Room

This morning, actress Lucy DeCoutere told Anna Maria Tremonti that more than a decade ago, Jian Ghomeshi slapped her, pushed her against a wall, and strangled her. All without her consent. "He did take me by the throat and press me against the wall and choke me," she said. "And he did slap me across the face a couple of times." She didn’t leave right away because she wanted to be polite.

I’d love nothing more right now than to write an essay about politeness, and the way that telling women to be “good girls” and to be “polite” is just one ways in which women are repressed, but I’m on a train, on my way to work, so I can’t. So this is just a very quick note to write that I get it. I’ve found myself in dozens of situations where I feel uncomfortable, with hands slid around my waist that I didn’t want to be there, or questions and comments so wildly inappropriate that I wanted to leave, but didn’t, all in the name of being polite. I've also been polite in fear that a situation would escalate further. I’ve done what DeCoutere did, too. Blamed myself. “I shouldn’t have come here. This is my fault.” But sexual harassment and assault is never the victim’s fault.

This Ghomeshi thing is a terrible, violent, disgusting mess, but I’m so happy to see some of the discourse it is inspiring.