Rose McGowan and Harvey Weinstein during a Cinema Against AIDS event. Photo / Getty
Rose McGowan and Harvey Weinstein during a Cinema Against AIDS event. Photo / Getty
Growing up, I took the 1988 movie "Working Girl" as my boilerplate for the workplace I dreamed of taking by storm one day.
Never mind that as a teen I wasn't even sure of what I wanted to do: After a high school debate in which the local newspaper dubbedme a surefire future candidate for an executive corner office, I believed I'd figure out some way to strut my aspiring Tess McGill self into a successful career.
Rose McGowan and Harvey Weinstein during a Cinema Against AIDS event. Photo / Getty
There's a scene in which, under the guise of helping Tess (played by Melanie Griffith) in her career, her bosses orchestrate a meeting with an executive (Kevin Spacey).
They're in a limo; he's snorting cocaine, popping champagne and pretending he wants to talk business with Tess as a ruse to get her to a hotel room.
He gropes her and tries to get her to watch porn with him.
Even as he's inappropriate, even as the dismay on her face is apparent at the mention of a hotel, she still tries to steer the conversation back to business, still intermittently exhibits a tight smile as she tries to salvage the meeting.
I wouldn't realize until later how painfully, excruciatingly accurate this scene was, and just how long and how unhappily women often end up smiling alongside the men who abuse them, because they have no other choice.
Jennifer Lawrence (L) and Harvey Weinstein attend the 'Silver Linings Playbook' Grey Goose Dinner. Photo / Getty
I recalled all this as I've watched countless attempts to discredit the women coming forward about Harvey Weinstein arise this week.
Pundits and commentators are trying to poke holes in their stories by blaming them for not speaking up sooner and crucifying women like Meryl Streep and Hillary Clinton for old photos where they're standing next to Weinstein smiling at press junkets, on red carpets and during parties even though they denounce him now.
Weinstein even cites the smile as his defense against actor Rose McGowan's accusations in the Hollywood Reporter, prompting tweets from readers asking "Why are they smiling with him?" and calling Ashley Judd, another victim, a liar for waiting so long to come forward.
The answer is that sometimes smiling is our only option.
Co-Chairman of The Weinstein Company Harvey Weinstein (C) and tv personality Heidi Klum (back, L) and actress Uma Thurman (front, L) attend The Weinstein Company party. Photo / Getty
I've smiled because I've wanted to project to my harasser that he hadn't broken me. I've smiled because the rent was due and the economy was bad.
I've smiled because insurance had run out on my therapist and if I didn't smile I'd likely be jobless, broke and absent a 50-minute appointment once a week to clear my head.
A man I once worked with in finance used to log onto my computer after I left for the day, read my emails and use information to try to sabotage me with clients.
Long the employee with the highest revenue stream, he was irked that clients and our boss considered me a threat to that title.
He later casually planted rumors with clients that I was actually incompetent but sleeping with my boss, which was the only reason why I managed so many accounts.
When I complained I was met with a shrug because he brought in so much revenue for the company. And his tactics worsened.
Producer Harvey Weinstein (L) and wife designer Georgina Chapman attend The Weinstein Company and Netflix Golden Globe Party. Photo / Getty
Speaking up does not magically fix a toxic environment when there's an imbalance of power. So I came to the office, smiled and worked hard every day, pretending I was fine - and sneaking out to interviews until I secured a job somewhere else.
When I gave notice I lied about where my new job was, but my former co-worker somehow found me, called my new boss and, pretending to be a client, asked for me.
He would then hang up when the call transferred to my desk. When my lawyer friend sent a cease-and-desist letter, he laughed it off and told my friend I was delusional.
I had to explain to my new boss who the calls came from and give a copy of the letter to HR to keep in my file. All the while, the expression on my new boss' face all but screamed, Did I just hire someone who is . . . difficult?
I smiled through that meeting, too.
Another man had been given the responsibility of streamlining a company where I worked -- that is, laying people off. During that period, when we were all worried about our jobs, he remarked on my legs and clothes, and demanded I not wear an engagement ring to client meetings because it gave the wrong idea to clients.
He would interrupt my presentations to make sexual comments or jokes. I always smiled away, hiding my discomfort, knowing that if I didn't I'd be on his hit list.
This is why old photos showing McGowan smiling next to Weinstein don't warrant even the slightest scrutiny.
I can't speak for her or the other women who have come forward to accuse Weinstein, but current statements from several victims suggest that at the time, smiling felt like their only option.
And that's not something McGowan or anyone else should be punished for: McGowan, like anyone in any field, wanted a successful career, and Weinstein was someone who could easily propel actors to stardom or, just as easily, crush them.
When the person abusing you has so much control that everything you do will be affected even if you try to sidle away meekly, there is no other option. You stand there, you look at the camera, and you smile.
Tess McGill, after the attempted assault, angrily calls out her boss for facilitating it. "Wasn't my fault," she says, and she was right, and it's a travesty that anybody would suggest otherwise in cases of workplace sexual harassment and assault.
McGowan and all the other brave women who came forward: It was not your fault. And I hope your courage is what marks the beginning of the changes we all need in every industry.
- Sepulveres is a freelance writer based in New York. She is the author of "Losing It: The Semi-Scandalous Story of an Ex-Virgin" and co-author of "Too Old to Have a Major Too Young to Have a Minor."
