Dave Boucher and Jill Cowan over at The Tennessean were able to talk with some of the women who have been the recipients of inappropriate texts from state Rep. Jeremy Durham. The story is both amazing and somehow depressingly, exactly what you'd expect.
At this point, there's probably not much fruitful to be said about Jeremy Durham, except, as galling as I find him, the fact that he had to know that, if the caucus actually ended up discussing his behavior, they were going to end up discussing his alleged inappropriate behavior toward women, and he brought his wife to the meeting strikes me as hilarious! Way to use the woman you're wronging as a shield to hide behind so that people won't ask you about the ways you're wronging her. It's the act of a cowardly scoundrel, but it's brilliant. I'll grant Durham that much.
But the scoundrel-ocity is not limited to Durham. No, like all good scandals, the bright light cast on the man at the center tends to reveal a lot of things happening in dark corners. Of course, it's a problem that Durham allegedly treats the Legislative Plaza like the Playboy mansion. But Boucher and Cowan have illuminated a larger problem:
The three women who told The Tennessean about text messages from Durham they felt were inappropriate said they never considered filing a formal complaint.They said they feared retribution and spoke to The Tennessean only on the condition of anonymity. They worried that a complaint would be useless, even though officials have encouraged anyone with concerns to come forward.
[...]
“I go tell someone in HR, oh, this representative did this to me, you know,” the woman said. “I mean, I know those things are supposed to be anonymous, and no one’s supposed to know who it was. But someone would have known by the time I walked back across the street to the plaza.”
I think this is true. I think this is true because, of all the people who write about politics in Tennessee and get paid for it, I have the least presence on Capitol Hill, practically none. I'm barely connected to the legislative gossip network. And I heard rumors of similar text messages months ago from multiple people. If my experience is any indication of how swift and far-reaching the gossip mill is, then, hell yes, I can believe that, if someone came forward with sexual harassment claims, everyone would know.
Which leads to the next thing Boucher and Cowan have discovered. Beth Harwell and Connie Ridley, director of the state Office of Legislative Administration, continue to fuck this up. And Harwell's excuses for why they continue to fuck this up are so stupid that they border on insulting.
Again, from Boucher and Cowan's article:
But Harwell said she thinks the legislature’s sexual harassment policy is “pretty standard” and no one has complained about it to her.Harwell said she’d be happy to discuss any changes with anyone, but underlined that the privacy component was needed in order to encourage possible victims to come forward.
She later asked Ridley to send background information to The Tennessean about the policy, which included links to sample policies from the National Conference of State Legislatures, as well as two other organizations that provide guidance to private sector employers.
What a joke! If there were a bunch of people tripping on a rug out front of Harwell's office, would she point to other state legislatures where bunched up rugs were acceptable or would she have someone fix the fucking rug? How many stories does she have to hear about why women don't feel comfortable coming forward before she realizes that other people doing as crappy a job as her to fix things doesn't excuse her?
Boucher and Cowan's story is, of course, filled with quotes from women—both harassed and not—who speak to the culture at the Legislative Plaza that keeps them from coming forward. Harwell may claim she welcomes anyone who wants to come forward, but, when she's got a bunch of staffers and lobbyists who don't know how to make a report, who to report to, and who rightly fear reprisal from legislators, her open door is protected by a great, impenetrable wall or a culture that encourages people to stay quiet.
Unless Harwell is going to directly address the barriers that keep people from her open door, talking about her open door is a joke.
Jeremy Durham is his own problem. The culture that allows him to flourish is Beth Harwell's.
