Has Anyone Ever Bullied You?
Has anyone shamed you? Demeaned you? Tried to destroy your reputation or get you fired?
If so, you’ve probably been targeted by a narcissist or worse, a psychopath.
I should know, because it happened to me back in 1999, when I worked as a volunteer Docent at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (LACMA). I loved that job because I enjoyed helping children experience the emotional impact of art and showing them that color, line, and shape can evoke different emotions.
I lived close to the museum, and because of that, I was often called on to give “pickup tours.” One was for a writer at Parents Magazine. She loved my tour and then wrote a front cover article calling me “The E-Ticket Tour at LACMA.”
This caused a problem because people from all over Los Angeles called to have me do their tour. That wasn’t possible, because I only did community and school tours. It also made Queenie, an older woman, extremely jealous. Queenie was head of school tours at the time, and we’d had run-ins before, so I wasn’t surprised when she tried to get even. Queenie was an ex-banker and was much like the “Aunties” in “Handmaid’s Tale,” imperious, devious, and vindictive.
In truth, I was too young to be a docent at the time. Most of the other docents were in their 60s and 70s. I was still in my 40s, a working writer at Disney, but the LA riots in 1992 led me to become a docent. I love LA, and I wanted to make it better by helping in some way. Art, from my point of view, is what makes us human, so I volunteered.
It all started with a call asking if I would do a pickup tour coming down to LA from a rural town in mid-state California, Visalia, four hours north. This Bible belt town, I discovered later on, was infamous for the highest rate of teenage pregnancy in the nation, and a source of much of the state’s meth production.
As usual, I started my tour with a red painting called “Anger,” went on to a sad, blue painting by Picasso, and then to “Mulholland Drive” by Hockney, which is filled with fun and happiness.
Then I turned to the 5th & 6th grade girls, and said, “The next object we will see is about a girl and a boy’s first sexual experience. Does everyone know about sex? We don’t need to see it, so if you’re uncomfortable, we can skip it.” The girls giggled and signaled that they wanted to see it. I looked behind me at the mothers, and they were on their phones, paying no attention to what I said.
We walked down the stairs, and there before us sat the infamous “Back Seat Dodge ’38,” by Edward Kienholz. A piece of art that literally shut down the museum in 1966. I wasn’t a huge fan at first, but when I toured my usual LA girls, they’d point, laugh, and say: “Hey, look! They are doing the nasty.” So I did the research and fell in love with Kienholz and his outrageous art.
In short, Kienholz’s 38 Dodge was the representation of his first sexual experience. Drunk and in the back seat of a ’38 Dodge. The car, covered in blue flocking, features a beaver tail that flows from its antenna. A scratchy radio plays in the background, and the figures of a girl and a boy are seen necking in the backseat. The solid girl is underneath the boy, and he is made of chicken wire. He’s hollow, empty inside. The only part of him that is solid is a white gloved hand placed between the girl’s thighs. A case of beer sits on the floor, and empty beer bottles litter the green Astroturf on which the piece sits.
I pointed to the beers and asked the girls, “What do you think the artist is telling you?”
The girls answered fast, “They’re drunk!”
I said, “Yes! And how do people act when they are drunk?”
Excited, all the girls chimed in: “They hit you.” “They hit my mom!” “They vomit!” “They fall down!”
“Yes!” I said, cutting the chorus off. “They do things they wouldn’t ordinarily do.” I changed the subject and moved on.
Suddenly, I knew that I was dealing with a bunch of traumatized children. Finally, the moms looked up and were embarrassed and ashamed. So much so that when they got back to Visalia, they complained to the principal that I had mentioned sex.
He wrote a letter to Queenie, and she, on her own, wrote a scathing letter to me. She said that because I had talked about sex, she had to fire me from my volunteer job, effective immediately.
Queenie’s letter strung together the words, sex, children and inappropriate on LACMA letterhead, and when I read it, I almost had a heart attack.
After I pulled myself off the floor, I realized that Queenie was acting out of personal vengeance and retribution. The narcissist’s playbook writ large. Because there was a fast and easy fix, yes? Apologize to the principal, and move on. But no, Queenie wanted to get even.
Because I refused to be bullied or shamed, I took action.
I called the LA Times and spoke with reporter Bob Poole. He then wrote a front-page Metro section article that took issue with LACMA. I got help from Wayne Clayton, a mensch and the best Civil Rights lawyer in Los Angeles, and he threatened to sue LACMA on my behalf. We won. LACMA’s President wrote me a formal apology and reinstated me as a Docent in good standing.
Twenty-six years later, I am a Sustaining Docent. I am also a therapist, and I help people take ownership of their power and stand up to bullies.
Now, how can this help you? I encourage my clients to stand up for themselves. I use hypnotherapy, cognitive behavior therapy, and past life regression to give them the courage to fight for what’s right.
A few years ago, I had a beautiful, talented 26-year-old who worked at a company where a 50-something married man bullied her. I suggested she report him, but she did not want to make waves. Ultimately, she got the courage to go to HR, and when they investigated him, they found out that he was sexually involved with one of her teammates. He got fired, and she was vindicated. Ultimately, she left that job and found one at double her salary.
So if you need help standing up for yourself, please don’t hesitate to call me. (323) 933-4377
Sending you love,
Stephanie
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