OPINION: Speaking Up: What #MeToo Means to Me as a Young Dominican Woman

By Salma Brens | May 5, 2025

Photo Credit: Cyndy Sims Parr | Wikimedia Commons

When I first heard about #MeToo, I was only 15, scrolling through Instagram after school. Story after story popped up—women, some barely older than me, sharing experiences they had been too afraid to talk about before. It opened my eyes in a way nothing else had. 

Now, at 18, I realize how much those stories mirror things I’ve seen and felt myself. Growing up Dominican, there’s a lot of pride in our culture, but there’s also this unspoken rule: keep certain things to yourself. Catcalls on the street? Just keep walking. A weird comment from a teacher or a coworker? Don’t make a scene. Respect your elders. Protect your reputation. Stay quiet. 

The first time I felt really uncomfortable, I was 16, working my first part-time job at a local grocery store. One of the older managers would find reasons to "help" me, standing way too close, touching my shoulder when he talked. I didn’t tell anyone—not my mom, not my friends. I figured maybe I was being dramatic, or maybe it was my fault for smiling too much. So, I stayed silent. 

Reading about the women who spoke out against Harvey Weinstein in The New York Times made me realize how wrong that silence felt. They weren’t famous at first. They were scared, just like I was. But they still spoke up, and the world finally listened. The #MeToo stories that came out weren’t just about movie stars—they were about girls like me. Women everywhere, in every kind of job, and from every background. 

It’s hard, even now. In the Dominican community, especially among older generations, conversations about harassment are still uncomfortable. Sometimes it feels like you’re betraying your family or your culture by saying something negative. But #MeToo showed me that speaking up isn’t betrayal—it’s bravery. It's about demanding the respect we deserve. 

I’m not naïve enough to think that one movement solved everything. There’s still so much work to do. Women of color, especially Latina and Afro-Latina women like me, are often left out of the conversation. Our stories don't always get the same attention. But they matter. We matter. 

I’m learning that my voice has power, even if it shakes when I use it. I’m learning that protecting myself doesn’t make me “disrespectful” or “too sensitive.” It makes me strong. 

Because of #MeToo, I know that my story counts, and I won’t stay silent anymore.