Justice as Accountability
written February 7, 2024 by Trinity Villanueva
When many people think of justice a few images can come into mind - Nelson Mandela, Malcolm X, fists in the air, people rallying around a specific cause. But for me, I think of a specific HR Director that I worked with some years ago.
At least, she’s what opened up something inside me, and showed me that there was a different way.
To me, justice is much about accountability. It makes it a bit more accessible, a bit more around “yeah, I can give to that” where the notion of “justice” (to me) felt so deeply overwhelming for a really long time. And sometimes it still does.
Something we talk about in our Amplify Trust Lab is that trust is the foundation and key to building teams. In order to build trust, as we pull from Patrick Lencioni’s The Five Dysfunctions of a Team is—vulnerability.
In the spirit of modeling trust, I will be vulnerable in this blog post.
During my 30s and in a job that seems so long ago, I was struggling with a power dynamic and sexual harassment from a C-suite level director. As a manager, the new Human Resources team began to implement various leadership development trainings, that I had to attend.
Within the sexual harassment prevention training, I learned a little more around statute of limitations and some things that fell outside of that. Of course, this was new to me.
I raised my hand, ironically in the same group as my perpetrator and said, “Does this mean even if it happened a little while ago, someone could still come forward? Let’s say someone on my team shared something with me, could I tell them to go to HR?”
I didn’t want to make it sound like I was the one, but I definitely was. I hid behind the disguise for the time being.
The facilitator responded emphatically, “Yes.”
Our new HR director chimed in, “Come see me after this meeting.”
The meeting came to an end and my heart was racing. And I was dreading the conversation with the new HR Director. When I walked in, they shut the door behind me, tears suddenly overcame my entire being, I felt a sense of safety and dread and torture and a need to release and let it all out.
As a child, from society and many of the women around me, surprisingly, I learned growing up that if someone said or did anything that was offensive or harmful, you shrugged it off. You buried it deep deep deep. You didn’t talk about it.
…As a woman, I learned that it was my fault that people harassed me, I didn’t have the right “comeback” or say the right thing to stop it after the action, or the clothes I wore was too sexy, or the way I was friendly or “flirtatious” was too inviting to unwelcome compliments or physical gropings.
…And as a brown woman, I learned that when you speak up, especially against white men or white Latine men, retaliation always follows. (This was my truth)
It was the first time in my life where someone gave me actual permission to share. After some time, the HR Director took out their notebook and started jotting down notes.
I was horrified and panicked. I said, “I don’t want to get anyone in trouble! Snitches get stitches!!!”
She explained to me that I had rights. She also explained to me that if I was able to provide any witnesses to corroborate my story or any experiences— although super humiliating—then I had a really good chance that if this went into investigation, there could potentially be justice. Accountability.
Of course, I was frightened. I had to recall all the traumatizing experiences over the last three years with this specific person. At first it was gifts because we were both single parents—so it was a “harmless friendship”. Then once he had my trust, it continued onto heavy compliments, to then really horrible comments passed and physical altercations.
This is probably much more common than we’d like to believe or talk about.
After hours spent in the HR office, I had much to think on.
The HR Director had empowered me in such a way that I never knew was possible. She gave me a lot more information that I had never been fully aware of in my entire career. She also was a Black woman who I felt safe around. That was a first for me in HR (this is why diversity matters!).
Because it was around the time the #MeToo movement started picking up some traction in the media, I equally felt empowered by society.
As a woman and as a person of color, my entire life I was told to keep my head down, don’t make waves, show up to work, keep your business life separate from your personal life. Little did I know when reflecting back, that this was the beginning of my journey in learning how to disrupt the status quo.
This story doesn’t go without the mention of two supporting roles. Two male allies corroborated my experiences by recounting aggressions that happened in front of them to the HR Director during the time of the six-month long investigation.
This type of allyship is so important and for another blog post to come.
A month later, the perpetrator (who held one of the highest positions in the company) to me and at least four others was let go.
I was quietly thanked by a trickle of women who didn’t technically know it was me, but knew it was me. That was a lesson learned as well, that not everyone has the bravery in those moments to stand up for what is right. It doesn’t mean they’re wrong either—I had to learn that, too. And because of this, it has helped me find my voice.
It was the first time in my life where I saw this type of perseverance be rewarded.
It was the first time in my life where I actually saw the trajectory of holding people accountable for their actions.
It was the first of many moments where I was able to witness justice.
When someone asks me why do I believe in a company like Tosha whose vision is to work with companies in the Leadership Development space through a JEDI (Justice Equity Diversity Inclusion) lens? This is just one of the many instances that I reflect back on.