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Violations and Ruminations
Apr. 8th, 2015 03:16 amMost of Minicon this year was grand fun. As the Chair of the Code of Conduct Committee, I had several things that I had to deal with, and learned several really useful things. I also ended up saying "giant inflatable penis" more times than any person should have to. But that's not what I want to talk about.
The Consuite at Minicon is comprised of some interconnected rooms. This year, they took all the beds out, and the rooms had either comfy furniture to sit in, or tables with food and drink. I'm using consuite a little loosely, since I'm including the bar area. The Dead Dog Party was held, as is traditional, in the consuite. Somewhere fairly early in the evening, Ann talked to me about a problem with Ken Konkol. Ken's been known to be a problem for, oh, forty years, in a variety of ways. His most recent exploit was being arrested for refusing to vacate an hotel room in Florida. That was last November. This is not a man who has learned better. According to Ann, who had spoken to another long-time Mnstfer, Ken had showed up assuming that he would be allowed to stay in this other person's house. This other person has had a bad experience with Ken overstaying his welcome, and refused. On Sunday, once again, Ken insisted that of course he was going to stay at this friend's house, since he had no place to go. Ann offered to explain to Ken in no uncertain terms that this was not going to happen, since the other person felt like he was not getting through. Ann did so, at which point Ken asked to stay in the consuite.
Now, staying overnight in the consuite is a thing which happens from time to time. It is the prerogative of the hosts, the people running the consuite and bar, and it is assumed that they will use good judgment, which they always do. The people running consuite and bar often end up sleeping in those rooms, as well, since their job is never-ending, and it's useful to have as short a commute as possible. Ann told Ken no, and in no uncertain terms. She had concerns about the fact that there was evidently a charge against him for trashing an hotel room, possibly related to his arrest, and generally didn't feel that his lack of planning constituted a reasonable emergency on the part of the con.
I wanted to talk to Ken up front, make him say what his plans for vacating were, and make him stick to them. I thought that a proactive approach was more likely to circumvent his extremely probable tactic of just hanging around until they closed the suite, probably around four or five in the morning, and then pleading that he couldn't go because he had no place to go and no way to get there. A plea that looks especially good because he's using a walker these days and really does look frail. I thought to do this under the guise of being helpful. "Do you need help calling a cab?" sort of deal. I was assured that Joel had it all under control, and decided that I could just stand down. A while later, I noticed that Ken was no longer in evidence, assumed that it had all blown over, and stopped worrying.
Around three in the morning, my sweetie Ctein and I ended up in one of the smaller rooms with a couch, talking, like we do. As these things will, late at night, we ended up having a two hour, wide ranging, very private conversation. There was no one in the room, the crowd was quite thin, we weren't using space other people needed. When someone wandered in to use the rest room or see if someone they wanted to talk to was there, we suspended the really personal stuff. In case you haven't done the convention thing, this is actually a pretty normal interaction. People are always wandering off to slightly secluded spots to talk, neck, or what have you. Somewhere around five in the morning, Joel informed us that he was going to bed and they were closing up the rooms. Ctein and I left, feeling a bit smug about having closed down the convention.
Monday was the traditional "fish fest", a sushi lunch at Sakura, followed by the less venerated but still very traditional ice cream trip to Pump House Creamery. I had much good sushi, a beer, and was feeling utterly charitable with the entire world. And then I got a call. From Ann. She said that Ken Konkol had decided to hide in the closet of the room where Ctein and I were talking so as to avoid getting thrown out. For the entire time we had been talking, sometimes about quite personal information, he was in the closet. When he was found, he had made a little nest of pillows and blankets and was reading. Joel had thought to look in the closet because he hadn't seen Ken leave, and figured he must be there somewhere. I told Ann I had to hang up, I felt sick to my stomach. I did not, in fact, throw up, but I was hugely, massively upset. Trying to remember what we had talked about, what other people we had discussed in frank fashion, what confidences had been violated. I was toweringly angry.
When we got to the ice cream place, I pulled Ctein aside, and told him. He went through roughly the same reactions. It felt incredibly violating. It's not a physical violation, but it is still a huge invasion of one's personal space. And it may be a minor thing, but it also destroyed that slightly smug sense of accomplishment about having closed down the con. After a very brief discussion, we went and told _everybody_. Loudly. And everyone had the same sorts of reactions we did. They were appalled and horrified, and sympathetic. It was so very nice to have all my friends be so very much on my side. It felt validating and helped keep me from spinning out of control. Ctein reports the same thing.
That night was the Desiccated Dodo Party at Scott's. This is also a Minicon tradition. I walked in the door, and there was Ken. I took a deep breath and decided that I did not wish to make a scene. While it felt awful to be in the same room with him, I didn't want to export the damage to my friends. I quick texted Ctein to warn him, and then proceeded to ignore Ken. I socialized cheerfully with my friends and told anyone who hadn't heard yet about what had happened the previous night. Everyone was appalled and sympathetic. I got into a couple of games of Zar, and had a quite good time, although I did cuss in front of the teenager. Which he thought was funny, and his mother didn't seem to be too upset with. Something about Zar makes me say terrible things. In between the first and the second game, Cally said that she overheard Ken say that he was disappointed that he hadn't gotten to play a game with several people yet, and my name was on the list. I was...gobsmacked, I guess. It sounds bad, but you should know that I have never, not once in all my life, shared a game with Ken. The expectation that he could game with me? I am flabbergasted. What is it about abusers that makes them want to continue to contact their victims, get closer to them? What is it?
Zar over, I was in the kitchen. Laura, Dean, DDB, Ctein, Doug, Scott, and probably other people were there. I don't really remember. Ken came to the kitchen door, and I lost my temper. I don't think he was speaking to me, but I said, "Go away and never speak to me again." He _advanced_. He walked towards me. He said that he was just here to thank our gracious hostess, and pointed to Laura. Someone replied that Laura was not, in fact the hostess. I told him go get out of my face. He asked me why. I yelled that I didn't need to explain, he needed to leave me the fuck alone. He insisted that I did need to explain. And he kept on _advancing_. By this time, I have completely lost my shit. I'm screaming at the top of my lungs, and I'm pretty sure that the majority of the words were fuck, and the rest involved telling him to go away. Eventually, he was made to leave. I really don't remember that part too well. I did see Ctein visibly restrain himself, and I'm grateful. Actually breaking Ken's fingers, or whatever else seemed appropriate, would have been difficult to explain to the police. Ann Totusek stood in the doorway to prevent him from coming in. I burst into tears and cried on Dean's shoulder. It was the closest one, I think.
Because the context was well known, everyone was instantly on my side. There was no recrimination at all, only sympathy. Everyone understood why I had lost it, and was completely sympathetic. It helps, of course, that pretty much no one likes Ken. But I think a much more important piece of it was that the abuse of the previous night was known and understood, and so my behavior had context.
There followed a discussion in which I, hilariously, provided technical advice about how to make Ken go away. It was decided that asking the host of the party to remove Ken was the correct procedure to follow. This is in exact compliance with our current anti-harassment policy. Scott, as host, asked for time to consult with Irene, his wife and co-host. That took very little time, but I don't think Irene knew the context and absolutely she needed to be consulted. Also in accordance with our policy, the hosts asked a Board member, in this case Ann, to actually do the evicting. Which she did. And for which I was so very grateful. There was some talk about further bans of various natures, a one year ban from Minicon, maybe a longer one. Ctein brought up the issue that in smaller venues, such as Fallcon, he would not be comfortable with Ken there and there would be a good chance of unpleasant drama if they had to interact. I pointed out that Mnstf meetings are pretty damn small, as well. I pointed out that all of this is stuff that has to be handled at the Board level, that we didn't have a quorum of Board members, and even if we did, I wasn't really ready to deal with all this shit, even as a complainant. As the victim, I cannot actually vote on the outcome, but I can advocate for myself when the time comes. But the time was not now, and what with Ken living out of town, there wasn't any reason to do anything before the next scheduled Board meeting.
Tuesday, I got a call from Ann. Evidently, Ken reached out to Ann and wanted to make things right. He's going to see a counselor through the VA and she was talking about wanting to provide the counselor with properly anonymized information so that he can discuss it with Ken, and I lost my temper. Because really, Ken is not my problem and what I really want is for him to die in a fire, right now. It's been less than 24 hours. And I am frothingly angry, still damaged, and trying to involve me in his rehabilitation is just not on. I have no charitable feelings towards him, and should not be asked to. Ann also said something about wanting to be sure that Mnstf wasn't perceived as an organization that just casually bans people who one of the Board members do not like, and I agree that we don't want to do that, but I cannot cannot cannot talk about this right now. And I am still upset that she tried to do so. I know that she had good intentions. But framing Ken's rehab as a good thing for me makes no sense at all. It does absolutely nothing for me. And right now, if Ken wants to apologize to me, I am not having any, will not listen, and if he calls me I will scream at him until he hangs up the phone. Not having any. Which is, you understand, why I don't get to vote on the issue of what Mnstf should do to Ken. Because genuinely not judicial, here.
The Consuite at Minicon is comprised of some interconnected rooms. This year, they took all the beds out, and the rooms had either comfy furniture to sit in, or tables with food and drink. I'm using consuite a little loosely, since I'm including the bar area. The Dead Dog Party was held, as is traditional, in the consuite. Somewhere fairly early in the evening, Ann talked to me about a problem with Ken Konkol. Ken's been known to be a problem for, oh, forty years, in a variety of ways. His most recent exploit was being arrested for refusing to vacate an hotel room in Florida. That was last November. This is not a man who has learned better. According to Ann, who had spoken to another long-time Mnstfer, Ken had showed up assuming that he would be allowed to stay in this other person's house. This other person has had a bad experience with Ken overstaying his welcome, and refused. On Sunday, once again, Ken insisted that of course he was going to stay at this friend's house, since he had no place to go. Ann offered to explain to Ken in no uncertain terms that this was not going to happen, since the other person felt like he was not getting through. Ann did so, at which point Ken asked to stay in the consuite.
Now, staying overnight in the consuite is a thing which happens from time to time. It is the prerogative of the hosts, the people running the consuite and bar, and it is assumed that they will use good judgment, which they always do. The people running consuite and bar often end up sleeping in those rooms, as well, since their job is never-ending, and it's useful to have as short a commute as possible. Ann told Ken no, and in no uncertain terms. She had concerns about the fact that there was evidently a charge against him for trashing an hotel room, possibly related to his arrest, and generally didn't feel that his lack of planning constituted a reasonable emergency on the part of the con.
I wanted to talk to Ken up front, make him say what his plans for vacating were, and make him stick to them. I thought that a proactive approach was more likely to circumvent his extremely probable tactic of just hanging around until they closed the suite, probably around four or five in the morning, and then pleading that he couldn't go because he had no place to go and no way to get there. A plea that looks especially good because he's using a walker these days and really does look frail. I thought to do this under the guise of being helpful. "Do you need help calling a cab?" sort of deal. I was assured that Joel had it all under control, and decided that I could just stand down. A while later, I noticed that Ken was no longer in evidence, assumed that it had all blown over, and stopped worrying.
Around three in the morning, my sweetie Ctein and I ended up in one of the smaller rooms with a couch, talking, like we do. As these things will, late at night, we ended up having a two hour, wide ranging, very private conversation. There was no one in the room, the crowd was quite thin, we weren't using space other people needed. When someone wandered in to use the rest room or see if someone they wanted to talk to was there, we suspended the really personal stuff. In case you haven't done the convention thing, this is actually a pretty normal interaction. People are always wandering off to slightly secluded spots to talk, neck, or what have you. Somewhere around five in the morning, Joel informed us that he was going to bed and they were closing up the rooms. Ctein and I left, feeling a bit smug about having closed down the convention.
Monday was the traditional "fish fest", a sushi lunch at Sakura, followed by the less venerated but still very traditional ice cream trip to Pump House Creamery. I had much good sushi, a beer, and was feeling utterly charitable with the entire world. And then I got a call. From Ann. She said that Ken Konkol had decided to hide in the closet of the room where Ctein and I were talking so as to avoid getting thrown out. For the entire time we had been talking, sometimes about quite personal information, he was in the closet. When he was found, he had made a little nest of pillows and blankets and was reading. Joel had thought to look in the closet because he hadn't seen Ken leave, and figured he must be there somewhere. I told Ann I had to hang up, I felt sick to my stomach. I did not, in fact, throw up, but I was hugely, massively upset. Trying to remember what we had talked about, what other people we had discussed in frank fashion, what confidences had been violated. I was toweringly angry.
When we got to the ice cream place, I pulled Ctein aside, and told him. He went through roughly the same reactions. It felt incredibly violating. It's not a physical violation, but it is still a huge invasion of one's personal space. And it may be a minor thing, but it also destroyed that slightly smug sense of accomplishment about having closed down the con. After a very brief discussion, we went and told _everybody_. Loudly. And everyone had the same sorts of reactions we did. They were appalled and horrified, and sympathetic. It was so very nice to have all my friends be so very much on my side. It felt validating and helped keep me from spinning out of control. Ctein reports the same thing.
That night was the Desiccated Dodo Party at Scott's. This is also a Minicon tradition. I walked in the door, and there was Ken. I took a deep breath and decided that I did not wish to make a scene. While it felt awful to be in the same room with him, I didn't want to export the damage to my friends. I quick texted Ctein to warn him, and then proceeded to ignore Ken. I socialized cheerfully with my friends and told anyone who hadn't heard yet about what had happened the previous night. Everyone was appalled and sympathetic. I got into a couple of games of Zar, and had a quite good time, although I did cuss in front of the teenager. Which he thought was funny, and his mother didn't seem to be too upset with. Something about Zar makes me say terrible things. In between the first and the second game, Cally said that she overheard Ken say that he was disappointed that he hadn't gotten to play a game with several people yet, and my name was on the list. I was...gobsmacked, I guess. It sounds bad, but you should know that I have never, not once in all my life, shared a game with Ken. The expectation that he could game with me? I am flabbergasted. What is it about abusers that makes them want to continue to contact their victims, get closer to them? What is it?
Zar over, I was in the kitchen. Laura, Dean, DDB, Ctein, Doug, Scott, and probably other people were there. I don't really remember. Ken came to the kitchen door, and I lost my temper. I don't think he was speaking to me, but I said, "Go away and never speak to me again." He _advanced_. He walked towards me. He said that he was just here to thank our gracious hostess, and pointed to Laura. Someone replied that Laura was not, in fact the hostess. I told him go get out of my face. He asked me why. I yelled that I didn't need to explain, he needed to leave me the fuck alone. He insisted that I did need to explain. And he kept on _advancing_. By this time, I have completely lost my shit. I'm screaming at the top of my lungs, and I'm pretty sure that the majority of the words were fuck, and the rest involved telling him to go away. Eventually, he was made to leave. I really don't remember that part too well. I did see Ctein visibly restrain himself, and I'm grateful. Actually breaking Ken's fingers, or whatever else seemed appropriate, would have been difficult to explain to the police. Ann Totusek stood in the doorway to prevent him from coming in. I burst into tears and cried on Dean's shoulder. It was the closest one, I think.
Because the context was well known, everyone was instantly on my side. There was no recrimination at all, only sympathy. Everyone understood why I had lost it, and was completely sympathetic. It helps, of course, that pretty much no one likes Ken. But I think a much more important piece of it was that the abuse of the previous night was known and understood, and so my behavior had context.
There followed a discussion in which I, hilariously, provided technical advice about how to make Ken go away. It was decided that asking the host of the party to remove Ken was the correct procedure to follow. This is in exact compliance with our current anti-harassment policy. Scott, as host, asked for time to consult with Irene, his wife and co-host. That took very little time, but I don't think Irene knew the context and absolutely she needed to be consulted. Also in accordance with our policy, the hosts asked a Board member, in this case Ann, to actually do the evicting. Which she did. And for which I was so very grateful. There was some talk about further bans of various natures, a one year ban from Minicon, maybe a longer one. Ctein brought up the issue that in smaller venues, such as Fallcon, he would not be comfortable with Ken there and there would be a good chance of unpleasant drama if they had to interact. I pointed out that Mnstf meetings are pretty damn small, as well. I pointed out that all of this is stuff that has to be handled at the Board level, that we didn't have a quorum of Board members, and even if we did, I wasn't really ready to deal with all this shit, even as a complainant. As the victim, I cannot actually vote on the outcome, but I can advocate for myself when the time comes. But the time was not now, and what with Ken living out of town, there wasn't any reason to do anything before the next scheduled Board meeting.
Tuesday, I got a call from Ann. Evidently, Ken reached out to Ann and wanted to make things right. He's going to see a counselor through the VA and she was talking about wanting to provide the counselor with properly anonymized information so that he can discuss it with Ken, and I lost my temper. Because really, Ken is not my problem and what I really want is for him to die in a fire, right now. It's been less than 24 hours. And I am frothingly angry, still damaged, and trying to involve me in his rehabilitation is just not on. I have no charitable feelings towards him, and should not be asked to. Ann also said something about wanting to be sure that Mnstf wasn't perceived as an organization that just casually bans people who one of the Board members do not like, and I agree that we don't want to do that, but I cannot cannot cannot talk about this right now. And I am still upset that she tried to do so. I know that she had good intentions. But framing Ken's rehab as a good thing for me makes no sense at all. It does absolutely nothing for me. And right now, if Ken wants to apologize to me, I am not having any, will not listen, and if he calls me I will scream at him until he hangs up the phone. Not having any. Which is, you understand, why I don't get to vote on the issue of what Mnstf should do to Ken. Because genuinely not judicial, here.
