#MeToo should also expose the vileness of what happens to black and brown women

“… I have been following the news and reading the accounts of women coming forward to talk about being assaulted by Harvey Weinstein and others. I had shelved my experience with Harvey far in the recesses of my mind, joining in the conspiracy of silence that has allowed this predator to prowl for so many years. I had felt very much alone when these things happened, and I had blamed myself for a lot of it, quite like many of the other women who have shared their stories … “
Lupita Nyong’o, an Academy Award-winning actress, in New York Times op-ed on Oct. 20

“… I knew enough to do more than I did …”
Academy Award-winning filmmaker Quentin Tarantino in New York Times interview Oct. 19 where he discussed Harvey Weinstein’s alleged sexual misbehavior with women

A black woman with a stop sign in her hand, a gleam in her eyes and a smile on her face sprinted into the middle of the street to protect me.

“Go ahead, baby,” the school crossing guard said. It’s been a long time since I was a schoolkid. But I remember the enduring lessons of how to safely cross the street, though I haven’t always heeded them.

This time, I looked both ways and stepped confidently into the street to continue my early-morning errand. A warm October sun illuminated a light blue sky, a chambray blanket stretched overhead. When I drew abreast of the crossing guard, I said, “Thanks for looking out for me.”

My protector said, “Anytime, baby,” punctuating her words with a gap-toothed smile.

Black girls and women have been protecting me all my life. Indeed, the strength, resilience and generosity of black women have been so consistent in my life and America’s that they have come to be expected more than appreciated, by me and the rest of the nation.

Perhaps that’s why we haven’t done more to protect black women.

You know, American society often seeks to use spectacular events to talk about routine yet horrific circumstances that cry out for change and justice: The O.J. Simpson murder trial and our racial divide, mass shootings and gun violence, accused celebrity predators and sexual harassment.

And so, allegations against longtime movie mogul Harvey Weinstein prompt a discussion about sexual harassment, which is endemic to our society; it is universal, a grim tie that binds women from the shacks in the valley to the mansions high on the hill.

But it’s the famous names accusing Weinstein of sexual misconduct, including Gwyneth Paltrow, Mira Sorvino and Lupita Nyong’o, that will have us talking for a time.

To be sure, victims of abuse deserve justice, whatever their socioeconomic backgrounds. Movie stars, groped and prodded, mocked and shamed, intimidated and humiliated, deserve our compassion. And they will get it.

But it’s poor women, women of color and especially black women who suffer sexual harassment and exploitation in a society that doesn’t care enough to see it. Poor women don’t endure sexual harassment for movie roles. Instead, in real life, they endure the harassment and humiliation to get favorable work schedules, to keep their lights on and their children fed.

These women, often young and vulnerable, will be expected to shake off their traumas and go on, especially if they are black, strong and resilient. And they will, just as their ancestors did after being pinched, prodded and paraded on the slave auction blocks.

Whenever and wherever women are routinely made victims of unwanted sexual advances, whenever and wherever women can’t assert their unassailable sovereignty over their bodies, the society loses a little bit more of its soul and decency.

For a time, allegations lodged against a rich and powerful man made by famous and glamorous women will be front-page news, something titillating to discuss.

At some point, the talk will end. Everyone from the brown-eyed girls being groped on the back stairs in housing projects to the blue-eyed women being fondled on the casting couches will look to America with damning eyes. Their eyes will ask a wrenching question: What more will America do to protect its women from sexual assaults, especially women made most vulnerable by an indifference that’s rooted in race and class hostility?

How will we answer?