July 18, 2011
--Last night, for the 2nd time, a female resident who is in a bed that isn’t a bunk bed but that is perpendicular and close to the bunk bed of which I have the top bunk left her arm stretched out over the side of the bed and fondled my legs as I tried to get out of the top bunk.
The first time that happened was at night on the same day that I wrote on Weebly about having been stalked several times throughout the day by a police SUV. I considered writing online about the incident and calling the entire day “The Day of Cops,” but as soon as the incident with the resident occurred, I told the overnight staffperson about it and decided to leave it there for the time being. I think that was a good decision then; last night was the first time that she’s tried it again.
This time, I again went to the overnight staffperson, who was not the same person who’d been there when it had happened before. He was outside with other residents and I asked if I could speak with him for a moment. We went into the office; he sat down and rubbed his nose as soon as I started talking. That’s becoming a habit for him, and for a few other men at the shelter. It’s probably becoming a habit for other men throughout Vermont and in places outside of Vermont who want to abuse women, all because of what the big harassers have been encouraging.
I explained that the leg-fondling issue had happened before; I asked him to make a note about it and he said that he would.
I noticed at some time in the past few days that the same resident had put a cup under her bed that has the word “COAST” on it, close to the side of her bed so that it’s visible.
This morning, after 7:00 a.m., when all residents were supposed to be out of the shelter and I walked past her and some of the other residents from yards away, I heard her talking about the Marines.
I have yet to wear anything but shirts with at least short sleeves (no tank tops), long pants, long shorts, and one long skirt since I’ve been out of the hospital and living at the shelter. I also have only ever worn long pyjama pants and either a long sleeve or a short sleeve shirt to sleep in. To say that my clothing choices have been modest is an understatement. I thought that was probably the best way to go for a while, considering my insecurities about having become famous a few years shy of 40 and also considering that some of the most powerful forces on the planet have been vying with each other to be the first to permanently brand me “All-Time Slut of the Universe.”
I moved into the women’s dorm upstairs a couple of weeks ago because a woman who had moved into the shelter and into the bottom bunk of the bunk bed of which I had the top bunk in the women’s dorm on the first floor had seemed to me to be especially unstable. It’s one thing to be harassed by people who at least sometimes seem to be capable of doing something else when you’re around besides harassing you, and it’s something else when you have noticed that someone is vicious from the second you meet her and who seems to have very little if any self-control.
I never had any illusions about what some of the people who end up needing to stay in homeless shelters were going to be like. I also have no illusion that my stay at that shelter has been made unnecessarily difficult because the big harassers have been encouraging bullying and harassment, and because the shelter management and staff have had a haphazard approach to respect and safety issues. Take people who already have issues and tell them to behave badly, and they will follow those directions.
Copyright L. Kochman July 18, 2011 @ 9:37 a.m./edit @ 9:38 a.m.
--Last night, for the 2nd time, a female resident who is in a bed that isn’t a bunk bed but that is perpendicular and close to the bunk bed of which I have the top bunk left her arm stretched out over the side of the bed and fondled my legs as I tried to get out of the top bunk.
The first time that happened was at night on the same day that I wrote on Weebly about having been stalked several times throughout the day by a police SUV. I considered writing online about the incident and calling the entire day “The Day of Cops,” but as soon as the incident with the resident occurred, I told the overnight staffperson about it and decided to leave it there for the time being. I think that was a good decision then; last night was the first time that she’s tried it again.
This time, I again went to the overnight staffperson, who was not the same person who’d been there when it had happened before. He was outside with other residents and I asked if I could speak with him for a moment. We went into the office; he sat down and rubbed his nose as soon as I started talking. That’s becoming a habit for him, and for a few other men at the shelter. It’s probably becoming a habit for other men throughout Vermont and in places outside of Vermont who want to abuse women, all because of what the big harassers have been encouraging.
I explained that the leg-fondling issue had happened before; I asked him to make a note about it and he said that he would.
I noticed at some time in the past few days that the same resident had put a cup under her bed that has the word “COAST” on it, close to the side of her bed so that it’s visible.
This morning, after 7:00 a.m., when all residents were supposed to be out of the shelter and I walked past her and some of the other residents from yards away, I heard her talking about the Marines.
I have yet to wear anything but shirts with at least short sleeves (no tank tops), long pants, long shorts, and one long skirt since I’ve been out of the hospital and living at the shelter. I also have only ever worn long pyjama pants and either a long sleeve or a short sleeve shirt to sleep in. To say that my clothing choices have been modest is an understatement. I thought that was probably the best way to go for a while, considering my insecurities about having become famous a few years shy of 40 and also considering that some of the most powerful forces on the planet have been vying with each other to be the first to permanently brand me “All-Time Slut of the Universe.”
I moved into the women’s dorm upstairs a couple of weeks ago because a woman who had moved into the shelter and into the bottom bunk of the bunk bed of which I had the top bunk in the women’s dorm on the first floor had seemed to me to be especially unstable. It’s one thing to be harassed by people who at least sometimes seem to be capable of doing something else when you’re around besides harassing you, and it’s something else when you have noticed that someone is vicious from the second you meet her and who seems to have very little if any self-control.
I never had any illusions about what some of the people who end up needing to stay in homeless shelters were going to be like. I also have no illusion that my stay at that shelter has been made unnecessarily difficult because the big harassers have been encouraging bullying and harassment, and because the shelter management and staff have had a haphazard approach to respect and safety issues. Take people who already have issues and tell them to behave badly, and they will follow those directions.
Copyright L. Kochman July 18, 2011 @ 9:37 a.m./edit @ 9:38 a.m.