The Tragedy of Susan Lewis: When a "Respected" Male Abuser Derails a Female Character (Woman's) Life
I first posted this on my Facebook page last December. Now that I have this blog, I thought I might repost it and expand on it a little more.
I’ve been watching ER since I was like 11. I loved it because the show was good and groundbreaking with its themes, storytelling, and talented staff of directors, producers, and actors. I felt super grown up watching these doctors on TV do cool things, and for a brief period of time, I thought about becoming a doctor. Recently, I re-watched almost the entire series with my mom, and a few things about the show's revolutionary representation struck me.
One of my favorite characters, if not the favorite in a cast full of amazing characters, has long been Susan Lewis (Sherry Stringfield). In my opinion, Susan Lewis and Peter Benton (Eriq LaSalle) are the most important characters of ER's original cast. For the most part, this character holds up in 2018 with the only caveat being that it would also be nice to see this experience through the lens of a woman of color. She’s a young, female doctor who’s obviously a beneficiary of second wave feminist and civil rights projects like Title IX and affirmative action. At first glance, we see a bright, young doctor with a great sense of humor who’s beloved by her colleagues. She has an awesome friendship with Mark, and she's trying to reconcile being a young woman in medicine with her own background. However, we also see the problems she faces, including some serious home life problems along with fears and anxieties in the work place.
In her working class family, she’s the “responsible one.” Early on, it's revealed that she's the one who's saddled with taking care of her older, drug-addicted sister. When her sister takes off, Susan takes on the task of raising her niece without support from her parents because they don’t want to raise another kid. She puts herself and career on the back burner to deal with this because well, she’s the one who made it and whether someone is telling her she’s responsible or not, she feels the pressure to be. In a way, she suffers the same survivor's remorse that many of us who have made it out of impossible situations feel. Because she's a doctor, it's almost like a debt Susan has to pay.
At work, she struggles to be assertive around her mostly male colleagues who have no problem dominating conversation and making decisions. Susan never doubts herself--until her colleagues show they doubt her. One older doctor goes out of his way to continuously berate her, for seemingly no reason other than because he can. Unsurprisingly, this doctor has a major change of heart about Susan when she saves his life during a heart attack. After all of this, he decides to ask Susan to be his Valentine, which really freaks her out because he’s older, married, and until recently, he’s been a major jerk to her. This is the textbook definition of sexual harassment. As many young professional women are apt to do, Susan finds the best way possible to not anger him and not draw attention to herself by politely skirting his advances.
This is all young Susan (1994-1996). When we next see Susan some years later, she is definitely more life savvy and confident. Now, she’s not just the humorous girl next door, but she has a sharp sarcastic wit. She’s no longer a doctor in training, but she comes back as an attending physician, even becoming Chief of Emergency Medicine. Eventually, she applies for tenure. She doesn’t get it because another major contender makes a large donation to the hospital (which in itself, is another issue). Most significantly, this happens in 2006. The guy who sexually harassed her and made her life hell for no reason before that was on the committee that got to make this decision. In 2006, the guy that sexually harassed Susan 11-12 years prior got to have his say on Susan’s career advancement.
Abusive men who get to maintain their positions of power are a threat to all people in the workplace because their presence perpetuates a power imbalance that not all victims will overcome. It’s not clear if that actually had an impact in the above fictional scenario, but a system that perpetually allows abusers to judge and speak to the career advancement of their victims is inherently flawed, especially where the abuse lies in a power imbalance that’s based on the victim’s inexperience and identity as a young professional. Sometimes, all it takes is for that one person to have “ammunition” against you to ruin your career as a professional. Your dream job, or career, could be over before it begins. It strikes me that in the post-Weinstein wake, we saw several people who say they flat out left acting after these experiences. Seemingly, the only recourse for victims has historically been to quietly remove themselves from the situation or make noise and become an outcast. (Hopefully, this is the system that we are moving away from.)
Further, the continued presence of these abusive personalities demonstrates just how lopsided the power imbalance is when you’re so scared you’re forced to lie about the fact that you’re simply not interested—just in case he’s judging whether or not you’re worthy of a promotion even 10 to 15 years after the fact. Sexual harassment, especially in the work place, follows its victims. Not eradicating the systems of power that enable it to happen in the first place and making abusers go away, supports it. When we rely upon someone’s “talent” or “genius” to keep them around (looking at Allen and Polanski), we send a dangerous message about what it means to be successful. To be successful isn’t to abuse power. In fact, there are many others in the same fields that are often as talented, if not more so, but held back because of the idea that those who would abuse their power are just so incredible. How ever will we replace Polanski or Allen? How would we replace that experienced doctor who harassed Susan? Worse, some are sabotaged by those in power for not playing along and completely out the door.
When will we start to consider how a massive abuse of power has kept people out of the doors? How many people don’t get to succeed because they politely refused the wrong offer? There are many people in the wings ready to take over, so why accept this notion of necessity? We don’t need people who abuse their power in positions of power. We need a system that recognizes that those who sexually harass and/or assault people have abused their power, and thus, are no longer fit to wield power over others.
I am not sure if it's on purpose or not. We see one of the most radical female characters of 1990s television have an arc that described the first-generation experience and existing as a woman in a male-dominated field. We get to see Susan interact with her male colleagues who ignore her, all while telling her she must be more assertive. We see a young Susan, who gets so frustrated that she goes to the women's room to cry. Over the 12 years that this character exists (excluding the five years that she's not on the show), she changes drastically. She grows into the a strong, confident doctor, dealing with the death of her best friend and finally learning to take the reigns of her own life. In light of all of this, we see a man who harassed Susan take a seat among those who ultimately denied her tenure. While I hate this ending for Susan and will rail against it until I am on my death bed (long live Sherry Stringfield!), it's a beautiful arc that comes to its only logical conclusion when systems of power remain unchecked.
Maybe this is a read that's too deep for a fictional character. Too bad it definitely mirrors many of the horrific, all too familiar stories of sexual abuse in the work place that have come to light over the course of the last 12 months.
I’ve been watching ER since I was like 11. I loved it because the show was good and groundbreaking with its themes, storytelling, and talented staff of directors, producers, and actors. I felt super grown up watching these doctors on TV do cool things, and for a brief period of time, I thought about becoming a doctor. Recently, I re-watched almost the entire series with my mom, and a few things about the show's revolutionary representation struck me.
One of my favorite characters, if not the favorite in a cast full of amazing characters, has long been Susan Lewis (Sherry Stringfield). In my opinion, Susan Lewis and Peter Benton (Eriq LaSalle) are the most important characters of ER's original cast. For the most part, this character holds up in 2018 with the only caveat being that it would also be nice to see this experience through the lens of a woman of color. She’s a young, female doctor who’s obviously a beneficiary of second wave feminist and civil rights projects like Title IX and affirmative action. At first glance, we see a bright, young doctor with a great sense of humor who’s beloved by her colleagues. She has an awesome friendship with Mark, and she's trying to reconcile being a young woman in medicine with her own background. However, we also see the problems she faces, including some serious home life problems along with fears and anxieties in the work place.
In her working class family, she’s the “responsible one.” Early on, it's revealed that she's the one who's saddled with taking care of her older, drug-addicted sister. When her sister takes off, Susan takes on the task of raising her niece without support from her parents because they don’t want to raise another kid. She puts herself and career on the back burner to deal with this because well, she’s the one who made it and whether someone is telling her she’s responsible or not, she feels the pressure to be. In a way, she suffers the same survivor's remorse that many of us who have made it out of impossible situations feel. Because she's a doctor, it's almost like a debt Susan has to pay.
At work, she struggles to be assertive around her mostly male colleagues who have no problem dominating conversation and making decisions. Susan never doubts herself--until her colleagues show they doubt her. One older doctor goes out of his way to continuously berate her, for seemingly no reason other than because he can. Unsurprisingly, this doctor has a major change of heart about Susan when she saves his life during a heart attack. After all of this, he decides to ask Susan to be his Valentine, which really freaks her out because he’s older, married, and until recently, he’s been a major jerk to her. This is the textbook definition of sexual harassment. As many young professional women are apt to do, Susan finds the best way possible to not anger him and not draw attention to herself by politely skirting his advances.
This is all young Susan (1994-1996). When we next see Susan some years later, she is definitely more life savvy and confident. Now, she’s not just the humorous girl next door, but she has a sharp sarcastic wit. She’s no longer a doctor in training, but she comes back as an attending physician, even becoming Chief of Emergency Medicine. Eventually, she applies for tenure. She doesn’t get it because another major contender makes a large donation to the hospital (which in itself, is another issue). Most significantly, this happens in 2006. The guy who sexually harassed her and made her life hell for no reason before that was on the committee that got to make this decision. In 2006, the guy that sexually harassed Susan 11-12 years prior got to have his say on Susan’s career advancement.
Abusive men who get to maintain their positions of power are a threat to all people in the workplace because their presence perpetuates a power imbalance that not all victims will overcome. It’s not clear if that actually had an impact in the above fictional scenario, but a system that perpetually allows abusers to judge and speak to the career advancement of their victims is inherently flawed, especially where the abuse lies in a power imbalance that’s based on the victim’s inexperience and identity as a young professional. Sometimes, all it takes is for that one person to have “ammunition” against you to ruin your career as a professional. Your dream job, or career, could be over before it begins. It strikes me that in the post-Weinstein wake, we saw several people who say they flat out left acting after these experiences. Seemingly, the only recourse for victims has historically been to quietly remove themselves from the situation or make noise and become an outcast. (Hopefully, this is the system that we are moving away from.)
Further, the continued presence of these abusive personalities demonstrates just how lopsided the power imbalance is when you’re so scared you’re forced to lie about the fact that you’re simply not interested—just in case he’s judging whether or not you’re worthy of a promotion even 10 to 15 years after the fact. Sexual harassment, especially in the work place, follows its victims. Not eradicating the systems of power that enable it to happen in the first place and making abusers go away, supports it. When we rely upon someone’s “talent” or “genius” to keep them around (looking at Allen and Polanski), we send a dangerous message about what it means to be successful. To be successful isn’t to abuse power. In fact, there are many others in the same fields that are often as talented, if not more so, but held back because of the idea that those who would abuse their power are just so incredible. How ever will we replace Polanski or Allen? How would we replace that experienced doctor who harassed Susan? Worse, some are sabotaged by those in power for not playing along and completely out the door.
When will we start to consider how a massive abuse of power has kept people out of the doors? How many people don’t get to succeed because they politely refused the wrong offer? There are many people in the wings ready to take over, so why accept this notion of necessity? We don’t need people who abuse their power in positions of power. We need a system that recognizes that those who sexually harass and/or assault people have abused their power, and thus, are no longer fit to wield power over others.
I am not sure if it's on purpose or not. We see one of the most radical female characters of 1990s television have an arc that described the first-generation experience and existing as a woman in a male-dominated field. We get to see Susan interact with her male colleagues who ignore her, all while telling her she must be more assertive. We see a young Susan, who gets so frustrated that she goes to the women's room to cry. Over the 12 years that this character exists (excluding the five years that she's not on the show), she changes drastically. She grows into the a strong, confident doctor, dealing with the death of her best friend and finally learning to take the reigns of her own life. In light of all of this, we see a man who harassed Susan take a seat among those who ultimately denied her tenure. While I hate this ending for Susan and will rail against it until I am on my death bed (long live Sherry Stringfield!), it's a beautiful arc that comes to its only logical conclusion when systems of power remain unchecked.
Maybe this is a read that's too deep for a fictional character. Too bad it definitely mirrors many of the horrific, all too familiar stories of sexual abuse in the work place that have come to light over the course of the last 12 months.
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