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Meagan Marie - What would you do
if you weren't afraid? |
As many of my female peers are doing at the moment, I’m reading a
book by Facebook’s Sheryl Sandberg called Lean In. The first chapter asks: What
would you do if you weren’t afraid?
My answer? I’d write this blog.
Hello. My name is Meagan Marie, and I’m a person. I’ve decided I’m going to
start standing up for myself in order to be more frequently treated like one.
Something transpired at PAX this weekend that was a true eye opener. While
hosting a Tomb Raider cosplay gathering, comprised of eight or so incredibly
nice and talented young women, a member of the press asked if he could grab a
quick interview. I said he’d need to ask them, not me, and they agreed. He
squeezed into the group and posed a question. I couldn’t hear what he said over
the hubbub of the show floor, but the confused and uncomfortable looks from the
ladies indicated that it wasn’t what they expected, to say the least.
I moved in closer and inquired “Excuse me, what did you ask?” with a forced
smile on my face, so to give him the benefit of the doubt. He laughed and didn’t
respond, moving a few steps away as I repeated the question to the group of
women. Turns out he’d probed what it felt like “knowing that none of the men in
this room could please them in bed.” Yes, I’m aware it’s a poor adaptation of a
gag told by a certain puppet dog with an affinity for insults. Lack of
originally doesn’t excuse this behavior, however.
My anger flared upon hearing this, and for a moment I almost let it get the best
of me. I attempted to calm myself down before walking towards him and the
cameraman, and expressing that it was rude and unprofessional to assume that
these young women were comfortable discussing sexual matters on camera. I
intended to leave the conversation at that, but his subsequent response
escalated matters quickly and clearly illustrated that this ran much deeper than
a poor attempt at humor. He proceeded to tell me that “I was one of those
oversensitive feminists” and that “the girls were dressing sexy, so they were
asking for it.” Yes, he pulled the “cosplay is consent” card.
At this point, as he snaked off into the crowd muttering angrily at me, I was
livid. Actually shaking a bit. It was inexcusable in my mind to treat the group
of women in this manner, especially when I gathered them there to participate in
an official capacity. I suppose I felt protective for this reason. As if I’d
exposed them to an undesirable element of the convention. They united to
celebrate their fandom, only to have an uncomfortable and unprofessional moment
captured on film.
As I stated publicly this weekend, we escalated the issue to PAX and they
responded with overwhelming concern and worked to ensure he wouldn’t bother
anyone at the this or future PAX events. They handled the situation with flying
colors.
But this encounter isn’t the crux of my blog. This blog is about what I came to
realize as a result of the press member’s actions. And what I realized is this:
When it comes to defending others, I’m fierce. I’m assertive. And I will hold my
ground. One of the cosplayers tweeted me to praise my bravery and say they wish
they had the courage to stand up too. The truth is my bravery doesn’t run that
deep. When it comes to defending myself I’m a rug that is walked over
repeatedly. This has to stop.
Similar behavior has been directed at me for years. Back in 2007 at my very
first GDC, I was starry-eyed and overwhelmed to be in the midst of so many
people I idolized. So when a drunken CEO of a then-startup pointed to my
midsection and said “I want to have my babies in there,” I laughed. I did the
same next year when another developer told me that he “didn’t recognize me with
my clothes on” after meeting me the night prior at a formal event (to which I
wore a cocktail dress). The trend continued for years, and I took it silently
each and every time.
It got so bad that one of my Game Informer coworkers had to sit me down and
convince me to file a complaint against a massive publisher, after one of their
PR leads repeatedly commented about how much he “loved my tits” at a party. Each
time I laughed it off and internalized my embarrassment, cementing a fixed smile
on my face while fighting back tears. Why? Because I was afraid to rock the
boat. I was afraid to perpetuate rumors that I was uptight, difficult, or had no
sense of humor. I was afraid of what I’d heard being said about other women
being said about me. So I would stick up for others, but never for myself.
Sticking up for others was the right thing to do. I had to be careful not to
stick my neck out too far, though.
I’m ashamed to admit my lack of courage has continued to this day. While on a
press tour in Europe late last year I sat alone with an interviewer while he set
up his camera. PR was talking to another member of the press just out of
earshot. I asked the journalist what his readers would like to know about me
first, per the introduction he outlined earlier. He responded nonchalantly,
“Well, they’d really like to see you naked.” I was so shocked I didn’t even
register what he said, and I defaulted to my uncomfortable chuckle and frozen
smile. I conducted the interview as if nothing had happened. I should have
walked out of the room then and there. I should have immediately reported it to
PR. But I didn’t, because I was afraid.
And while these industry comments hurt the most, as they often do when coming
from peers, I’ve got hope for change even if it is motivated by fear. In a
social economy where one unprofessional tweet can ruin a career, I feel like the
few unsavory industry personalities are becoming more aware of their words. My
line in the sand doesn’t end there, though. I’m going to start holding
commenters accountable for their actions too, even if I can only do so on my
social spaces.
So here is the deal. I’m a person. I’m not just a “girl on the internet.” I am
not comfortable with you remarking on my breasts. I am not comfortable with you
implying that you’d like to have sex with me. And I don’t appreciate you rating
my looks against my girlfriends in candid photos.
While I can’t stop these comments and questions from arising when they pop up on
random blogs across the web, I can stand up and say that that I won’t accept
being talked to in this manner anymore. I’m not simply going to ignore you; I’m
going to call you out and tell you that you’re being inappropriate. Just because
I have a public job and an equally public hobby doesn’t give you the right to
ignore my comfort zone.
The situation this weekend at PAX made me question why I’m willing to stand up
for others, but not myself. By allowing myself to be treated this way I’m
perpetuating that this behavior is acceptable. And it isn’t. If I continue stand
by silently, I might as well sit on the sidelines and watch while other young
women endure what I have.
The treatment and representation of women in gaming has come to a head this past
year, and I know some of you are tired of hearing about it. I’m tired of living
it. I want to feel safe and valued as a member of this industry, whether I’m
conducting an interview, talking to fans on a convention floor, or cosplaying.
And I have a right to that.
I’m not afraid anymore. I’m angry.
[For those of you who have been so supportive these past years, both in the
industry and out, please know this blog isn’t directed at you. I can’t imagine
dedicating my life to anything other than video games. And that’s why I’m going
to fight my hardest to leave it a better place.]
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Thank you Meagan for allowing us to repost this inspirational blog - Sara |
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