Your "Hey Mister" matters | Dahli Durley | TEDxFondduLac

How do you go from being a bystander to action-oriented in difficult situations? Dahli Durley details her experiences and outcomes. Dahli Durley is a traveling portrait and wedding photographer, capturing raw and authentic moments on camera. Though she hails from Southwest Wisconsin, her travels take her around the country and the globe in search of documenting and recording people in places to expand viewer horizons on social media. She has an MBA from Viterbo University and was an AAUW Selected Professions Fellow, and is currently working on her first book.

This talk was given at a TEDx event using the TED conference format but independently organized by a local community. Learn more at https://www.ted.com/tedx

Last fall, I was working from my laptop
at a busy coffee shop in Tempe, Arizona.

I noticed a couple came next to me.

They were older,

maybe in their mid to late sixties.

And they sat at a tall,
round bar table next to me.

Now, the gentleman
was the quintessential grumpy old man.

And I say that because things
were coming from his mouth

like "Goddamn this"
and "Goddamn that"

and "This son of a bitch,"
so on and so forth

while his partner, a small quiet woman,
sat there and shook her head.

Now, this gentleman
was a large, portly fellow,

and so when he would sit at this table,
it went a little something like this:

He would sit with his stomach
to about here,

and when he would turn to the table,
he would hit it with his stomach,

and then he would knock the napkins
and his phone to the floor.

And this happened about three times,

and each time it happened,

his exclamations of "Son of a bitch"
and "God dammit, Marie"

got louder and louder.

Now, let me remind you

this was a busy coffee shop.

It is a weekday morning,

and the line for coffee
is almost out the door.

But this angry gentleman didn't care.

He was so upset about his "goddamn table"

that he busted in front of the line
to the front counter

so he could yell at the baristas

to tell them they needed
to get new "goddamn tables,"

and he demanded that his drinks be free
to compensate for his grief.

At this point, everybody's
kind of shocked:

I'm seeing some dropped jaws;
I'm seeing wide eyes.

But no one really knows what to do
with this angry, aggressive yelling man.

And so while all this is happening,

I'm keeping my eye on his partner, Marie.

And she's waiting in the wings,
and I can tell by her body language

that she's getting pretty embarrassed.

And I also watch as she cautiously
made her way to the front by her partner

and she begins to plead with him.

"Bob, stop, please. It's okay, it's okay.
Just sit down, it's okay."

Now, Bob did not like this

and directly into Marie's face,
he screams, "No, no, Marie, no.

It's not okay, it's not okay.

You dumb bitch, just sit down
and shut the fuck up."

"You dumb bitch, just sit down
and shut the fuck up."

I think that most of us can agree

that the terms "dumb bitch"
and "shut the fuck up"

should not be said to anyone,
let alone your partner.

And let me remind you
this is not in hushed tones,

this is not behind closed doors;

this is in broad daylight
in a public space

with at least 20 sets of eyes and ears
watching and listening.

And that was horrifying.

And poor Marie -

Marie backed down, went back to her chair
and sat in silence in defeat.

And it's in that moment
that I feel for Marie.

And I feel for Marie
because I've been Marie.

I know what it's like to be
at a complete loss as to what to do

because you're so scared
of what your partner will say or do next

or what they're going
to make you suffer later

if you question them
in any way shape or form.

And then, when something
like this happens in public

and you feel awkward and embarrassed
and you don't know what to do,

and everybody watching
feels awkward and embarrassed

and they don't know what to do -

I mean it's all just -
it's lonely, and it's alienating,

and it's completely disempowering.

And it is those times
when if anybody needs a hero,

it is in empty and fearful
moments like that.

About a week before all this went down,

my friend Elena had been walking
down a busy street in Paris

when a man came up behind her
and grabbed her by the crotch,

and she struggled to get away with him -

or not with him: from him -

for what must have seemed like forever,

but finally, she was able
to free herself and get to safety.

Now, later that day, she posted
about her experience on Facebook.

And the one thing she said

was that the thing
she was the most upset about

was not that this man had attacked her

but it was that no one did anything.

No one.

Now, this was not in a dark alley
at 3:00 a.m. with no one around.

This was in the middle of the day
on a busy street with hundreds of people,

yet no one did anything.

No one.

Now, I remember reading her story
at home and just thinking to myself,

"This is so nuts.

How could people not do anything?"

But, like Marie,

I can relate to Elena
and her story all too well.

Years ago, I remember sitting
in my car with my then-partner.

We were parked at a Walmart parking lot.

And he was on one of his
daily tirades against me,

informing me and letting me know
that I understood how selfish I was,

how ugly I was, how fat and unsexy,
and how unmotivating I was

and that there was nothing about me

that he could even be proud enough to
present me as his girlfriend to anybody.

And on this particular day,

I remember just crying
and trying to get through it,

and I was fixating
on the clock on the dash.

I remember it going from about 4 o'clock

to 4:13 to 4:37 to 5:00

to 5:25 to about 6 o'clock.

And the whole time, he's still going.

And while all this is happening,
we're in a parking lot.

So people are parking alongside of us
getting in and out of their cars,

and they look at us.

I see them looking at me.

And even though I couldn't say anything,

I remember in my head silently pleading,

"Please help me. Please stop this."

But no one stopped.

And no one stopped any other time.

And you're probably wondering,

"Well, girl, why didn't you just open
the door and get out of the car?"

For me, at that point
in my relationship with him,

I was so beaten down, and I was caught
in the cycle of self-loathing and sadness,

and honestly, I kind of believed him.

I kind of believed
the things he said about me.

Because in my head, I thought,

"Well, if this man loves me
and he's telling me these things,

there has to be some
little bit of truth in it.

So maybe I kind of deserve this."

And so, I never opened the car door,
and I was always just left with him.

So because I have these experiences

that I could relate to Marie
and relate to Elena,

maybe that's why I did what I did next.

So, fast forward

to where Bob has yelled at Marie
and they are now sitting.

I decided, "I have had enough of Bob,

and I'm going to tell him
what is on my mind."

(Laughter)

Now, let me tell you, though,

I was super scared
and I was really frightened.

But for me -

because of my experiences,
and because I got it -

not doing anything
was not a choice for me.

And so, partly shielded from my laptop,

take a quick breath,

and I'm able to get out, "Hey."

OK, that was nowhere near loud enough
that I needed to be at.

(Laughter)

And Bob didn't hear me.

He didn't turn around.

And the reality is
he's a little bit older,

so I might need to speak up.

So I try again.

And this time I take a deeper breath,
and now it's like exhale,

I feel like I'm pressing my fear down,

and then, from somewhere deep
inside of me comes this almost yell,

"Hey Mister!"

And it was about that loud -
I am not kidding you -

but he definitely heard me that time,
and he whips around in complete shock.

And I can see, over his shoulder,

Marie looks as -

the only way I can describe it -

is in fear and disbelief.

So, Bob and I are making contact.

We are staring at each other
for a couple of seconds,

when he finally kind of relaxes,

and then, he chuckles.

And as he turns away from me,
he defiantly mutters,

"I can talk to her any way I want."

I'm sorry, what?

You think that you can talk to her
any way you want?

It was like all feeling
and thought just left my head

and everything just
went red, red, red, red.

I was pissed.

(Sigh)

And I become -

I'm just lost in emotion, mostly anger.

(Laughter)

And then, I become lost in thought.

And I time-travel.

And I time-travel back to the moment

where I had had enough
of my then-abusive partner.

Now, I remember this day vividly.

He was going on about
someone he was upset with -

shocker -

and I was trying to participate
in the conversation and say something.

And the next few moments
just went by really slowly.

It was the kind of slow
where a second feels like a minute.

I remembered the air
coming out of my lungs,

traveling up my windpipe,

and it's about to pass over my lips
so I can begin to utter sound.

And before I can even begin
to speak a word,

he's yelling at me.

He is telling me

he's sick of me lying all the time

and that I didn't know
what I was talking about anyway.

I hadn't even said anything,

and already he is putting me down
and berating me,

literally for nothing.

On a usual day, I would've kept quiet
and I would've backed down

and I would've waited for him to be done.

But that day, that was different for me.

And the only way I can describe it
is that this wall of fear

that had kept me and held me back
from standing up for so many times

when I should have for myself

was gone.

It had vanished.

And even though at this point,
I felt that I had lost so much of myself,

that wall of fear was replaced
with a small sliver of the old Dahli.

The old Dahli that was confident
and take no shit from anybody,

that was going to come up attitude blazing
and step in and be ready for the fight.

Now, all this time that I was with him,
I don't know where she was hiding

but I am glad that she showed up

because this guy was scary.

In the time I had been with him,

I had learned so much
about him and his history

and things that he had done

that I had a right to be scared.

But at this point, that did not matter,
because how I was living my life -

which was in constant
fear and sadness and doubt -

that's not living.

And so, instead
of choosing silence that day,

I chose me and I chose these words:

"I don't like how you treat me.

You make me feel bad about myself,

and I feel disrespected,
and I feel unloved.

You don't get to talk to me
like that anymore."

And it is eerie.

How similar his reaction was to Bob's.

Now, he was a bigger guy.

And I remember him
getting really close to me,

inches from my face,

and telling me,

"I can talk to you any way I want."

And I was scared, I remember trembling,

but I knew that by confronting him,

I had just firmly placed
both feet in Pandora's box

and it was too late now.

I could not pull back.

I had no choice but to be all-in for me

because I wanted to get me back.

And there was no one else in that room
that was going to choose me, but me.

And so I said to him

what I'd been so scared
to say for so long:

"No.

No, you don't, because I am done."

I had had enough.

I had enough of constant fear,

I had enough of all the self-doubt,

I had enough of being a victim,
and I wanted me back.

But for that to happen,

I had to be enough for myself.

And this is a really hard thing to do.

It is easier said than done.

Especially if you have been
living your life like this for so long,

there's a lot of fear in choosing
an unknown and different future.

Because sometimes the devil you know

seems a heck of a lot safer
than the devil that you don't.

And then that day,
I chose the devil that was a stranger.

And that choice ended up being very scary,

very painful, very humbling.

And it's -

Making that choice is really hard.

Right?

I mean, it's a series
of choices you're making,

and it is a long hard road,
and it especially seems more arduous

if you feel like
you're doing it by yourself.

So when Marie backed down to Bob,

I didn't blame her.

Because if that
is what he was like in public,

I cringe to think what he would
be like behind closed doors.

I had no idea what he was like.

And honestly, I don't know Marie's story.

I don't know why she chose
the devil that she knew.

Because it's complicated.

Life and emotion

and the human experience
are all messy and complex,

but what I do know

is that when I think
of my own experiences,

and when I think of Elena
and I think of all the other stories

of people needing someone

to step in and say the truth
and be an advocate

when someone could not for themselves -

No, I was not going to allow this behavior

to happen in front of me.

I was not going to bear witness

and enable Bob

and his shitty words and actions.

So, come back to the moment
where Bob has taken time to inform me

that he can talk to Marie
any way he wants.

In this next moment,

I felt that I said for Marie
what Marie could not say for herself.

"No. Actually, you don't, Sir.

And Ma'am, I hope you know that too."

Part of me wondered if I made things
worse for her by saying anything.

Would she have to deal with Bob's anger
from interacting with me that day?

Maybe.

But there's a bigger part of me
that remembered all of the times

when someone needed someone else
to step in and be the momentary hero

and disrupt the cycle.

They don't need someone

who is just going to be an audience
member and bearing witness

and not doing anything
because it's not their business.

I wasn't going to do that.

Because what about Elena?

And then what about Marie?

And what about me?

I looked at Bob and Marie from my laptop,

and I'm trying to stay still,
but I am almost shaking

because I have so much adrenaline
running through my body.

And Bob?

Bob was furious,

face bright red, and he stands up -

I didn't know what was going to happen -

but instead of doing anything to me,

he decided to walk out of the coffee shop
with Marie trailing after him.

So these stories
that I've just shared with you,

they're not full
of sunshine and rainbows,

and if anything,

you might be feeling disappointed
and bummed out by people right now.

And I get it. I really do.

But I share these stories
with you for a reason.

And it is because I am real
and my experiences are real.

Elena is real and Marie is real.

We are not fictional stories
that you watch on your TV.

These things have happened to us,

and these things will happen to people
that you probably know

and that you will come across
as you live your life every day.

And so what I want you to know is this:

that you are empowered, and you are able,

and you have the right to speak up
when you see something that's not right.

And when that time comes,

I don't know what that's going
to look like for you.

Because maybe you'll be able to say
something directly, like I did to Bob.

Or maybe you won't feel safe,

and you'll end up
telling someone next to you

or talking to a manager
or talking to the cops.

I don't know what that's
going to look like for you.

But what I can tell you

is that doing something

is a heck of a lot better
than doing nothing.

Because I think what people forget

is that silence and inaction
scream volumes.

So, if you're sitting there wondering,
"I still don't know if I could,"

then please hear me
when I say this to you,

is that "Yes, you can.

You are an able-bodied person

that has an innate sense
of what is right / is wrong.

And you are empowered,

and you have the right to speak up

and say when enough is enough.

Thank you.

(Applause)