The Power of Her Glare
The photo has haunted me since I saw it on Monday. A photograph of the raw, brutal glare, Grace Tame , 2021 Australian of the Year, directs at Australian Prime Minister Scott Morrison. Immediately I searched for headlines, wanting to discover the story behind this photo.
Some background is needed to put this story in context. Grace Tame lost her virginity to a pedophile. She was 15, anorexic; he was 58, her teacher. She found the strength to report and jail her teacher. Tame then had to fight to legally tell her story and helped overturn a draconian law that prevented victims from speaking their own names in the media. She was named 2021 Australian of the Year. After sharing this experience in a powerful speech accepting the award, the prime minister leaned over and said, “Well, gee, I bet it felt good to get that out.” Morrison does not deny this, stating he was referencing the bravery of her statement. Seriously, is that what it sounds like to you?
Shortly after that, a story broke about Brittany Higgins, allegedly raped by a fellow staffer at Parliament House. It seems the Prime Minister gave a less than stellar response to this news and went home to consult his wife, Jenny. The next day, Morrison said he had spoken to Jenny, who told him, “You have to think about this as a father first. What would you want to happen if it were our girls?” Tame said of this: “It should not take having children to have a conscience.” Tame is right. Morrison clearly does not understand the trauma of sexual assault.
Earlier this week, Tame attended a tea for 2022 Australian of the Year finalists. She did not mask her true feelings with a painted-on smile when the Prime Minister greeted her. Instead, her disdain and scorn are clearly etched on her face. This story has flamed tempers. She has been called rude, childish, and ungracious. Some say she should not have attended if she felt this way. Some feel she should return her award. The majority of these comments come from men.
Grace Tame has been criticized for not smiling when greeted by Prime Minister Scott Morrison at a tea for 2022 Australian of the Year finalists.
Grace Tame, 2021 Australian of the Year.
Well, I don’t know about your reaction, but I feel sickened at the criticism that has been thrown at Grace Tame. And I am so proud of this young woman who brilliantly expressed her contempt in one of the only ways women can, at times, express their emotions, through the power of a look. She could have skipped the event, but no one would have known why. She could have stood on a podium and ranted, but I expect she would have been largely ignored. Instead, she threw the prime minister a powerful glare that sent a clear message.
I've been there; I expect many of you have been too, silenced time and time again. How were we supposed to express our feelings other than with a look? When I was in my teens, my parents belonged to a card club. One of their friends boasted, lied, cheated at cards, and frankly, he was a sexist pig. Obviously, I reacted. My parents told me, in no uncertain terms, to not speak when he was over. So instead, I rolled my eyes, threw withering glances, and shot bolts of hatred across the room. I was then banished to my room, no longer allowed to be present when he visited. I have no idea why my parents tolerated him. Worse, I could not understand that they did not challenge his rudeness and remarks. Note, I did not wonder why they did not support me; after all, I was only a girl.
I am called into my manager's office. It is my first job. He informs me that my opinions are written on my face, both during staff meetings and customer interactions. He suggests I wipe my feelings off my face and paint on a smile, or I could look for another job. Everyone in upper management was male, I was sexually harassed, and women had no voice in that workplace. And we all know how brutal customer service can be!
I have sat through more meetings and conversations than I can count with a straight face. I have listened to racist and sexist remarks spewing out of the mouths of colleagues, family, and friends. I remained silent, only my face displaying my feelings. And finally, I decided no more. I would speak up when I felt I needed to. And I have. As a result, I have been called rude, opinionated, and a few scornful looks were thrown at me. Bring it on! I really don’t care. And still, there are times when I should speak up, and I don’t, politeness and deeply engrained social norms faltering my resolve. Instead, I resort to conveying my opinion with a look.
And so I applaud Grace Tame for her strength and sense of self-worth. She has spoken her truth loud and clear. Her glare speaks for so many women as it resounds around the globe. Australian reporter Katharine Murphy sums it up best.
I don’t know Grace Tame. I imagine she’s just as complex and flawed and difficult as the rest of us. But this much can be safely observed: the woman I’ve watched over the past year has zero interest in co-option, no people-pleasing compulsion to be grateful, and no instinct to genuflect before smug, self-satisfied systems or conventions. She exhibits some of the defining qualities of her generation. I know a lot of young women like Grace Tame – women who have not been socialized to shut up when an authority figure (generally a man) is talking. She is very recognizable to me. She resonates because she feels like progress.