Trauma, Memory and #MeToo: Remembering What You Chose to Forget

Walking in the city a few weeks ago, I stopped in front of Carnegie Hall to read the roster of orchestras and conductors that would be coming to town. It had been much too long since I’d heard live classical music, and I felt a sudden longing. Riccardo Muti….Did I ever see him conduct? I mused. Joshua Bell—I’d love to hear him perform. Then, I wonder if Conductor X (as I’ll call him here) is still alive? And boom, I was hit with a memory, a greyed-out and foggy flash, of being in a swimming pool with Conductor X, his hand sliding into the top of my swimsuit and fondling my breast.

But now, a wave of memory rushed over me so quickly that I almost couldn’t catch my breath.

Like most (perhaps all) women, in the wake of the Weinstein scandal I scoured my past, looking for #MeToo moments during my decades on the job—and felt very lucky that, despite working mainly with men throughout my 20s, the most I could remember was a few somewhat benignly leering comments by one coworker. Yes, there was sexism and obnoxious condescension during those early years. But harassment? Not that I could recall, for me, anyway.