Columnist Melissa Schorr: Handling sex harassment, grade school-style

The smirking schoolboys sidled up to Shoshana Sternlicht, the most well-endowed girl in my seventh-grade class.

Soon, Andre, Michael and Steven sputtered out what their hormone-laden minds were dying to know:

"Do you sleep on your stomach," they inquired, barely concealing a laugh, "and if so, is it like being on a seesaw all night long?"

(If you don't appreciate the joke, you're obviously well past junior high.)

This charming vignette flashed back to me recently when I read about LaShonda Davis, the Georgia girl whose groundbreaking "peer sexual harassment" case will be heard this session by the Supreme Court.

According to court records, in the '92-'93 school year, a fellow fifth-grader tormented LaShonda for six months, murmuring how he longed to "get in bed" with her and "feel her boobs." Then, he made good on his words, rubbing up against her -- against her will.

LaShonda complained to her mother, her teachers, her principal, but no one would listen. She wasn't allowed to change seats. The boy wasn't disciplined. A month before school let out, she wrote a note threatening to kill herself.

Now, for the first time, the high court will decide whether schools are liable for not shielding female students from an atmosphere of harassment -- whether the protection we already offer in the workplace should extend to the classroom.

Now I know some will say that "boys will be boys" cruelty is "natural" at that age, we can't go around legislating politeness.

But the court's distinction is whether the actions are "physically threatening or humiliating" or "merely offensive."

Now, when a fifth-grader is writing notes of despair, when her abuser pleads guilty to sexual battery (he got probation), clearly we are past sticks 'n' stones name-calling.

Why should comments we consider reprehensible -- and actionable -- in the office be excused when they take place on school grounds -- where a little sheltering is clearly in order?

After all, an adult woman usually has options: worst case scenario, she can always take this job and shove it. Students have no such luxury: they are required by law to attend.

And who is more likely to be able to come back with a withering remark or scathing glance: a mature woman with years of experience handling such creeps, or an insecure pre-pubescent just hoping to make it through recess alive?

The 26-year-old me knows what to do (sort of) when someone comes on all wrong. The 13-year-old me hadn't a clue.

That's probably why the rest of us huddled nearby as the boys focused on Shoshana, thinking if we kept still, they wouldn't turn on us (and yes, crazily, at the same time, halfway wishing they might. Ah, the shame, the inadequacy of not getting sexually traumatized in junior high ...)

By now, I'm sure Andre, Michael, and Steven are true '90s guys who'd never behave so boorishly -- in public, anyway.

Maybe they've learned the way to a woman's heart isn't through humiliation. Maybe they have daughters of their own. Or maybe they simply refrain for the almightly fear of a million-dollar lawsuit.

But isn't that a lesson they could have been taught earlier, rather than later?

I'm also sure they've forgotten all about those "harmless" schoolyard slings.

But I've never forgotten them. I'm sure Shoshana hasn't, either. And I'll bet LaShonda never will.

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