Legacy of Carol P. Christ: Somebody Almost Walked Off With All of My Stuff: And He Didn’t Even Know He Had a Thing of Value on the Open Market*

This was originally posted May 14, 2012

Gina Messina-Dysert’s blog on sexual harassment by a Religious Studies professor brought up memories that have haunted me for years. It has taken me some months to find the courage to post this story.

When I was an undergraduate, I was very naive and barely dating. I was not as prepared for college work as most of the other students, and I devoted myself to my studies.  I had a favorite professor, and I spent a lot of time in his office talking about books and about God.  This professor encouraged me to go on for a Ph.D. in his field at a time when a woman with a Ph.D. was an oddity.  His belief in my intelligence gave me the courage to overcome my parents’ opposition to the idea that I would pursue a doctorate. His recommendations helped me to win Danforth and Woodrow Wilson Fellowships. I naturally assumed that this professor respected me.   

After I began graduate school, I met my former professor at the American Academy of Religion meetings.  One time, he invited me to his room for a scotch. There he told me that he had often imagined having sex with me when I was a student discussing religion in his office. I was shocked because I had always thought of this man as a professor–beloved professor, yes, but a lover, no–the thought had never even crossed my mind! Because he was closer in age to my father than to me, I had placed him in the category of father-God-authority figure.

Yet I was flattered. Perhaps because I was shy and studious and very tall, few men had paid attention to me. It was the time when love was free, or so I thought, so I said yes.  Our affair was passionate and went on over several years long distance.  I thought I loved him, and I believed that he must love me.  

I was over 21 and no longer his student, so there was no sexual harassment in the legal sense.  However, there was a massive abuse of the intellectual, spiritual, and psychological power he had over me. 

After we had made love, my professor he told me he was glad I was no longer his student because, he said, he would no longer be able to judge my work objectively. I was dumbfounded. Apparently I, who had been admired for my mind, had been demoted to a body.  My professor’s words should have been my clue to “slip out the back Jack,” but I was psychologically unprepared to do so.  I was confused–unable and unwilling to accept that this professor who seemed so wise and intelligent had such limited and stereotypical attitudes towards women. I continued the relationship, imagining that I could make him see all of me.  For his part, he continued to take advantage of my innocence.

Gina wrote of feeling so humiliated by being groped by her professor that she did not report the incident. She said that after she posted her blog about it, she felt sick to her stomach and considered removing her post.

The night after I read Gina’s blog, I woke up in the midst of a dream in which another woman viciously attacked me, calling my beautiful garden dirty because there was dog shit in it.  Speaking of this dream with Gina, I realized that my garden was my-self and that even after the passage of many years, I felt covered in shit. I had been used, and I judged myself for accepting an abusive relationship.

I spent the next few days pondering it all. Finally a scream rose up in my body. With the windows closed, I shouted at the top of my lungs:

Somebody almost walked off with all of my stuff.

He took my innocence.

And he didn’t even know it was a thing of value on the open market.

Somebody almost walked off with all of my stuff.

He took my body.

And he didn’t even know it was a thing of value on the open market.

Somebody almost walked off with all of my stuff.

He took my love.

And he didn’t even know it was a thing of value on the open market.

I gave myself to you.

And you didn’t even know I was a thing of value.

I take back my innocence.

I take back my body.

I take back my love.

They were never yours.

Somebody almost walked off with all of my stuff.

And he didn’t even know he had a thing of value on the open market.

But I know.

I share this story because I am certain that I am not the only one. As I often say to my students when they tell me stories of abuse, this should not happen to anyone.

It should not have happened to me!

Thanks to Gina for hearing me into speech.

*Thanks to Ntozake Shange who in for colored girls who have considered suicide/when the rainbow is enuf spoke the truths of her life. Her words inspired my ritual of self-affirmation, but I do not quote her exactly.