“When I was around 12 or 13, my heart was broken by a stranger.”
Ellen Jorgensen, writer and scientist, tells of a time when she was walking home, and a man whistled at her. It was summer, and she had been walking through the park in the heat, soaking up the sun and the “sluggish but persistent mood of NYC in 100-degree weather.”
She was at peace in her own world before the same world was turned on her — before her too-young body was looked at and objectified by the whistling man.
Ellen describes the overwhelming moment: “Have you ever felt your insides curl in on themselves in discomfort? Have you ever felt your blood rush to your head in fear?”
As she felt every inch of her exposed skin, she wondered, “Why am I the one walking away in shame? Why are my eyes averted? Why am I afraid to walk down that block again alone?”
This experience defined her view on the world she felt she once knew: “That day, my love of my city, my home, my independence, my body was shattered.”
This wasn’t the last time Ellen felt that a line was crossed, the comfort of her body violated.
In her senior year of high school, Ellen had to report one of her closest faculty members for sexual harassment. She had been experiencing this inappropriate relationship since sophomore year, but Ellen hadn’t immediately brought the issue to light. She recalls that “it hadn’t seemed like a big enough deal to bring up until he started talking about how he would have to replace me when I graduated. The idea of another student experiencing the confusing pressures and dynamics that I had endured for the past three years pushed me to my breaking point.”
She burst into tears at the college counselor’s office as she made a list of everything she experienced. “I missed a week of classes and spent all of my time bouncing from the offices of guidance counselors and administrators, reading and rereading a black-and-white copy of three years of crossed lines and uncomfortably placed hands and silence.”
This week also occurred at a monumental moment of her senior year, right before spring break, when she would be attending an interview trip for a scholarship to Syracuse. The trip would be determining if she could afford to go to college, and it was plagued by the frenzy of these challenges.
She says now, “I am still unraveling those three years, that week, the aftermath today. So far, I have learned to trust my instincts. When something feels wrong, I report it. When I feel that someone is nearing a line, I tell them. I have learned that I am the only person that can advocate for my experience and that I deserve much more than I thought.”
Despite experiences like this, Ellen prevails in maintaining a positive outlook on life and humanity. Her primary life philosophy is to assume best intentions, rather than engaging in cynicism. Cynicism, she notes, “is not only detrimental to the relationships we form but also makes us angry and more easily frustrated. People yearn to be proven right. Sometimes, people will even work to force their predictions into reality.”
She explains that assuming the worst in people will result in either the confirmation of their vices or our own disappointment at realizing the people aren’t as terrible as we thought. “When in doubt,” she says, “bet that people are driven to decisions with good intentions.”
Beyond this belief, Ellen lives according to values of education and learning. She considers learning one of her favorite hobbies: “I love to think of the little and big things that I experience every day as opportunities to learn more about myself, the world around me, and the relationship between the two. While academic learning is great, my favorite classrooms are relationships, late-night conversations, and the sights of parts of the world that look so different from the place I grew up.” To Ellen, real-world experiences hold more weight than textbook readings.
This holds true even if the experiences are burdensome. “There are many difficult things in the world,” she states. “Nobody needs to be told that.” The value comes from using these difficulties as a chance to grow. By using obstacles as an opportunity for reflection, we can emerge from tough situations with “at least one constructive thing, whether that be a philosophy, a new meaning to an old song, or a piece of hope in a new place.”
Experiences always offer room to learn — “All it takes is opening your mind.”
About Ellen
Ellen is a scientist when she is feeling rational and a writer when she is feeling passionate.
Between the Lines 