The media must do better to address photojournalism’s sexual harassment problem

He had already made a few inappropriate comments during the trip. Then one night, after we went out drinking, he said it was a good time to go look at my new work. We left the bar and headed to my hostel, where he manipulated his way up into my room. The room was small, and there was nowhere to sit but on my bed. As I pulled out my laptop, he laid down, and I flashed back to all of the inappropriate comments he had made during our conversations. The project I was working on at the time was about strippers, and he had asked if I could move or dance like one. I tensed up and made sure that the laptop stayed glued to my lap. It became my safety net. I was so focused on not getting hurt that I don’t remember much about what he said to me in that room. Eventually he left, and I returned home feeling ashamed.