Lucinda Jackson - Just a Girl ; Growing Up Female and Ambitious

PRAISE FOR

Just a Girl

This is a critical book that all corporations should study in order to evolve their companies into a place where women want to work. Lucinda Jackson tells it like it is, and her takeaways and review of legal precedents are relevant to all women and men who work in corporations.

SILVIA GARRIGO, Global Vice President, Millicom International

Riveting, searing, and personalreaders of this book will be inspired to redouble societys efforts to create a more fair and equitable culture for both women and men.

CHERYL KARPOWICZ, Senior Vice President, Ecology and Environment, Inc.

Lucinda Jackson attains shero status as she chronicles her triumph over sexual harassment that is ever present as air. A corporate scientist and academic, Jackson compellingly weaves her personal story with societys awakening and progress toward addressing this scourge.

ANDREA JARRELL, author of Im the One Who Got Away: A Memoir

This powerful memoir will help other women, in spite of anti-female adversity, overcome pain, self-blame, and shame. It will be especially beneficial to vulnerable young women as they try to make their way in science, technology, engineering and math (STEM).

BEVERLY ENGEL, LMFT, bestselling author of Im Saying No! Standing Up Against Sexual Assault, Sexual Harassment, and Sexual Pressure

JUST A GIRL

Copyright 2019 Lucinda Jackson

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,
distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including
photocopying, recording, digital scanning, or other electronic or
mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the
publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical
reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright
law. For permission requests, please address She Writes Press.

Published 2019

Printed in the United States of America

ISBN: 978-1-63152-662-6

ISBN: 978-1-63152-663-3

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019906547

For information, address:

She Writes Press

1569 Solano Ave #546

Berkeley, CA 94707

She Writes Press is a division of SparkPoint Studio, LLC.

Book design by Stacey Aaronson

All company and/or product names may be trade names, logos,
trademarks, and/or registered trademarks and are the property of their
respective owners.

Names and identifying characteristics have been changed to protect the
privacy of certain individuals.

To Deborah and Linda and all women like us who have been put down and harassed. Im sorry it happened to you. I believe you, its not your fault, and its time for us to be free.

AS I RAN MY FINGERS OVER THE SHINY GOLD TUBES OF lipsticks, I didnt think much about the man at the other end of the display counter. I noticed him, as he seemed out of place among all the girls and women in the makeup section of Cornets, our favorite five-and-dime store. But he was an older man, dad-like, probably just looking for something nice for his daughter or his wife.

I hummed and fidgeted, ecstatic just to be there at the mall. My sister, Deborah, three years older than my nine years, and I had gone there with friends. It was a big deal, because my mother had never let us go shopping on our own before. In my favorite turquoise-and-green matching Bermuda shorts-and-top outfit, clutching a stained white purse with a chipped chain handle, I felt so sophisticated. I had found the purse in a garbage can in a public bathroomprobably somebody had stolen the contents and dumped it therebut I didnt care. I strutted a little and snapped my fingers a few times when I wore it slung over my shoulder, jazzed, since my mother wouldnt let me buy a purse yet because she said I was too young. As we filed into Cornets, I was especially thrilled that we were going in to look at makeup, because, of course, I didnt wear any.

My sister and friends drifted down the aisle, and I was alone looking at the treasure trovemascara, rouge, compacts, red lipsticks. Then I felt a poke in my side, peered down, and saw a huge purple sausage jutting out of the father-mans dark pants and butting up against me. My mind raced: How did he move down the aisle and end up next to me? Where did he come from? Is this a penis? Id seen my brothers penis in the bathtub, but it never looked scary and threatening like this. I froze. Poke, pokehe jabbed me again. And again.

Whats happening? Whats this nice man doing? Whys he doing this? My blood iced up in my veins. Panic rushed through my body. Away from my friends, I realized I was his target, the deer separated from the herd.

I gasped, survival mode kicking in, and bolted down the aisle and out into the mall. My stomach swirled, ready to throw up. Why had he chosen me? What was wrong with me? Why would someone do that to me?

I found my sister and friends and fell sobbing into their arms. My baby blue-framed glasses fogged up with tears as I choked out my story.

How horrible for you! they said. What should we do? Ick, ick! Lets get out of here! We slunk out of the mall and held on to our secret.

I feel ill talking about it even now, after almost sixty years; that betrayal, such a brief act, ruined my childhood foray. What I didnt realize then was that Id been sexually harassed for the first time.

IT TOOK ME DECADES TO UNDERSTAND, BUT NOW I KNOW why there arent many women in science, technology, engineering, and math (STEM) fields in Americas colleges and universities. I also know why only a dismally small number of women hold higher-level positions in corporate America, the world of big companies in the United States: Its because men, especially men with power, prevent women from entering and remaining in these fields and companies. They dont want us there, whether its in a math class, college, academia, government, or a corporate job. They do what they can to keep us out or, if we get in, to make us quit. Men profit from the current system, since they control wealth and authority. They have fun in their man world, and they want it all to themselves.

I know what Im talking about. I spent more than eight years working in science in a university environment and almost forty years in male-dominated professions in the corporate world. As I entered that world in the 1970s, I saw that men there had special benefits: camaraderie, power, and money. They joked, exchanged exploits, talked about sports and women. Each of them had his own office with a wooden desk and carpeting. They had expense accounts, company cars, and airline travel, during which they flirted with female flight attendants. They drank at bars, convened for golf after meetings, and fished together on the weekends. They were well paid and wore nice suits. They had creative jobs and got respect and promotions. They decided how it was going to be. They had it made.

When I was young, I saw the jobs available to me as a woman: waitress, motel maid, bank teller, secretary, sales clerk, or cashier. And if I went to college, maybe I could be an elementary-school teacher, executive secretary, or nurse. I understood that these were all lower-paid and more repetitive jobs, with little opportunity to advance. No travel, no big desk in your own office. I would never be in charge.

Still, I wanted what men had. I sought the power and advantages of the man world. Riveted by its glamour, I hammered away in high school, chose sciencea mens majorin college, and later managed to secure a man job as a field research biologist. I danced crazily and sang around my apartment when I got that first job offer, as science was not only a ticket to the man world but also my love.