Is sexual harassment an issue on the backstretch?

Words - Ken Snyder

“You’ve come a long way baby” was a slogan for a cigarette brand back in the late ‘60s.  And while more and more women trainers are commonplace on racetracks, the problem is they and other females are still addressed as “baby” and far, far worse by male workers…in the early 2020s.

Sexual harassment at racetracks, like practically all workplaces across America, exists. And things far worse than a “honey,” “sweetie,” or yes, “baby” is directed at women by men unfamiliar with them, creating uncomfortableness or offense.

To wit, at one racetrack, female workers living on the backside above the barns generally can’t leave their rooms at night by themselves.

At another racetrack, a female assistant trainer living on the backside had to make sure to lock her tack room door as there were persons, presumably drunk and/or drugged men, pounding on it on many nights. 

The locations of the instances above are not important because sexual harassment is everywhere on every racetrack. Extremes like the situations above are seemingly minor forms of harassment, not physically threatening but damaging on another level.

Sandra Washington, a 21-year-old assistant trainer to John Alexander Ortiz, is the tack room survivor.  Much to Ortiz’s credit (and were all trainers this thoughtful and generous) he moved Washington into his home with his wife and family for two years. He expressed his reason succinctly: “There are some bad people back here.”

There are bad people everywhere, but the racetrack is an environment with living arrangements and working hours that make for far more dangerous scenarios.   

A member of one racetrack chaplaincy, who is female and ministers specifically to female backside workers, said, “I am not allowed to work here when it is dark.” Not surprisingly, the racetrack she serves is where female barn workers also can’t go out when it is dark either.

“Most of them take showers right after they work.  They don’t want to be out of their room” she said.

“If they do go out, they make sure to be part of a group,” she added, “but most completely avoid it.”

To say the racetrack is different from other workplace environments is comparing Mother Earth to the moon.  Where to begin?  The biggest difference is a huge majority of female workers on the racetrack do not leave their place of work for homes elsewhere.  As many as 85% of workers live in racetrack dorms or above barns (and also above the horses). Life with male co-workers in some kind of proximity is 24/7. 

Demographically, female racetrack workers are overwhelmingly Hispanic. In fact, racing in the U.S. might employ more Hispanics, per capita, than any other industry. If this is not a factor in the degree or number of instances of harassment, it certainly is a factor in how female victims respond to it. (More on this later.) 

Add to that an outdoor environment. “Catcalls are a common commodity back here,” according to Washington—something that will bring you before Human Resources in a hurry in office settings, typically. 

Lastly, there are cultural and economic issues unique to the racetrack. 

Understanding the impact of coming to a foreign country and an environment that can be virtually inescapable is a factor in being preyed upon, according to Karen Jemima Davila. She is a student at Southern Baptist Seminary in Louisville and assistant to Churchill Downs racetrack chaplain, Joseph del Rosario. “It’s just work, work, work. They [Hispanic women] save a little bit for themselves and the rest they send back to their homes.  It affects how they do things and how they understand themselves.” 

Most do not know what is out-of-bounds as far as treatment from men because they are not integrated into American culture, lifestyle, and, most important, rights.  And if they do know what is permissible and what is not, they fear reprisal or job loss if they report harassment.

“I’ll lose my job--that’s the biggest fear. ‘If I come forward, are they going to kick me out and take my license?’” said Eli Hernandez, racetrack chaplain at Santa Anita, Del Mar, and San Luis Rey.

“That’s the problem right there. ‘I keep my mouth shut; I’ll keep my job.”  

Social pressures also exist to prevent either coming forward or pursuing a complaint to a conclusion and action by the racetrack against a perpetrator.  “The word starts getting around that it’s their fault.  ‘You brought this on yourself.‘ ‘You’re easy.’  People start whispering,” said Hernandez. 

“That’s a lot of pressure. You’re talking about 25-, 26-, 27-year-olds.  All they’re trying to do is make a living and support their families.  It’s bad enough they’re away from their families,” said Hernandez.

Another factor is a fear of deportation if they come forward—a fear not grounded in fact.  According to Hernandez and others questioned, a Hispanic woman who is an illegal immigrant is regarded as a possible victim of an offense and that only. Nothing more, nothing less. With representatives at every jurisdiction interviewed for this story, the message was the same:  immigration status is not and will not be an issue with a woman lodging a complaint. 

Are Hispanic women unaware of immunity from deportation proceedings if they file a complaint for sexual harassment?  Lynn McNally of the Nebraska Horsemen's Benevolent and Protective Association (HBPA) responded, “That’s a good question.” 

“Probably more could be done to communicate that there wouldn’t be repercussions in their immigration status because they reported something.”

Racetracks—it is safe to say and to their credit—are not ignoring the issue or standing still on measures to prevent it. Churchill Downs and the racetrack chaplaincy, along with non-profit organizations historically supporting efforts there and the Kentucky HBPA are re-instituting meetings from pre-Covid days to make female workers aware of what is and what isn’t sexual harassment, and what to do if they are harassed.

Before Covid, Churchill Downs conducted three meetings a year in the on-track chapel there.

“There are always new people, so this has to be ongoing—something that we continually address,” said del Rosario.

“The purpose is to encourage women to not accept that kind of behavior…to speak out, that Churchill Downs Security is not going to tolerate it, and to pass the word to others.“

One initiative that was also pre-Covid was hiring a women’s ministry director—a position now filled by Davila.  “That has helped build trust. A woman talking to another woman will make it easier,” said del Rosario.

Nebraska tracks are similar to Churchill Downs in that harassment prevention seems to be a collective effort from various racetrack constituencies.

Both the Nebraska HBPA board members and management at racetracks in the state are at the core of a shift in attitudes of mutual respect, according to McNally. “I think that that gives us a tremendous advantage in moving things forward and having women feel comfortable in the workplace.

“There’s a difference between being internally supportive and actually taking action to prevent behaviors from occurring with employees. Our president, Gerald Wilson, has been extremely vocal about treating all employees respectfully. He’s been very, very proactive and vocal about it.”  

Women-to-women relationships, counsel, and guidance are probably the most important keys to prevention on Nebraska racetracks as well, according to Lynne McNally.  “We are an all-female staff at the HBPA.”

Hernandez, as well, is mindful of gender in building trust issues in his work in Southern California.

“I always have my wife there,” he said of encounters with female barn workers reporting harassment. “Sometimes they just want to talk to my wife.

“‘Who can I trust?  Who can I come to where I’m not going to be judged? ‘You’re not going to put me down.’  ‘You’re not going to blame me, but you’re going to listen to me,’” Hernandez said, echoing what he has heard and what he has seen in serving as a chaplain in Southern California.

“I told my wife when we started four years ago, ‘Let’s show people our hearts before we ask them to show us their hearts.’”  

Hernandez believes he and his wife have built a foundation where women are less hesitant about coming forward.

Coming forward, however, is only the beginning of a process that often is short-circuited by the victim.

He recalled driving a female racetrack worker to make a report who, on the way, told him she didn’t want to proceed with a report after all. “‘I don’t want to get a bad reputation.  I don't want people to start talking bad about me,’” he recalled her saying in response to why she wouldn’t file a report. 

“It will happen.  Everybody is going to know.  Everybody is going to say she’s a slut, or she’s the one who gave in.”

The number of individuals coming to Hernandez—two female workers last year and three in 2020—would seem to indicate the issue is not a big one, at least at Southern California racetracks. The fact is, the number of harassment offenses unreported is inestimable.

The need expressed by everyone responsible for harassment in the racetrack environment is better communication to female barn workers about their rights and making certain of good resources for protection.

Hernandez is an example, perhaps, of resources and equally important, a thoughtful, careful approach to aiding and supporting a victim. “Our main goal is to build trust by having a safe zone here where people just come here.  

“We put out clothes, water, toiletries, shoes, and Pampers every day.  We also make breakfast for people who don’t have money.  

Perhaps more impactful and important for harassment victims is how he and his wife approach the individual. “Let’s do one ‘stitch’ at a time,” said Hernandez, using a wound analogy to describe both what he sees in harassment victims and the care that he and his wife try to bring to women coming to them. “We won't try to close up the wound in one day.  Let’s talk a little bit today and then tomorrow we’ll visit it again.”

Let’s hope racing will have fewer “wounds” for the Sandra Washingtons of racing and the many, many Hispanic female workers simply trying to make a living for themselves and their families in their home countries.  

A living is not always a life.