I haven’t felt this gutted since the late hours of November 8, 2016. I watched every minute of the Senate Judiciary Committee hearing yesterday. I had to see it for myself and I will never forget some of the images.
I started crying as soon as I saw Dr. Christine Blasey Ford sit down at the hearing table. She looked completely and justifiably terrified. I swear I didn’t breathe for the first few minutes of her opening statement. The raw gravity of the moment was palpable. I wanted to puke. I don’t know how she didn’t.
Dr. Ford was genuine and refreshingly unrehearsed and the rarest of all things – non-political. She came not to destroy Judge Brett Kavanaugh, but to tell her story – to be heard – because she felt it was her civic duty. And tell her story she did. It was excruciating to hear her recount the laughter she heard as Kavanaugh held her down and put his hand over her mouth.
There’s not a woman I know who hasn’t had that hand over her mouth – sure, maybe some of them not literally, but figuratively time after time after time. Me, too. Me, too. Me, too.
I won’t even address the absurdity of those questioning Dr. Ford’s veracity except to say that NO ONE would blow up their own precious life to share such a shattering story if it were not true. The End.
When she finished her testimony, I actually stood up (alone) in front of my TV and applauded through my tears. This unassuming professor and mother of two had told her truth with poise and grace and staggering courage. And for a couple of hours – sweet, sweet hours – I truly thought that it would matter – that she would be heard. What a glorious feeling that was. Today, it feels like a gauzy memory from long ago.
Kavanaugh was up next and he took a page from the oldest playbook of them all. See: Adam in Genesis. The man as victim. He ranted and screamed and attacked those who would dare question his path to his promised prize. He was loud and rude and tried to bully the Democratic women on the committee. If a woman candidate – for dog catcher – had shown such temperament, she would have been dismissed and destroyed. But guess what? Kavanaugh’s foaming rage worked like a charm and this afternoon, the Judiciary Committee will vote and advance his nomination to the floor.
I feel that heavy hand on my mouth this morning – trying to suppress my absolute rage. I’m just too old for this shit. I am over it. OVER. IT.
One of the most heartbreaking parts of yesterday was reading so many painful stories of sexual assault posted on social media – some by friends that I was not aware of – others by strangers. All of them gutting. I was so moved that those people felt empowered by Dr. Ford to share their stories – some for the very first time. I thought about them last night when I went to bed with the sense of dread over Kavanaugh’s inevitable approval.
I’m lucky. I don’t have such a story to share. I have never been sexually assaulted but I have been professionally assaulted by some angry white men who felt threatened by my power. Those men took a job I loved away from me because one man yelled louder than me and played the victim card. It worked for him in spades and I wasn’t even given the opportunity to speak my truth. I was never heard, and I can still feel that hand on my mouth.
I know how difficult it has been to put my experience in a place where it doesn’t interfere with my everyday life and I cannot fathom how you do that when the assault is physical and violent and sexual. It must be a never-ending nightmare. I thought about you all when I couldn’t sleep last night. I worry about you today.
So, what’s the answer? We vote? Yep. Done that. We march? Yep. Done that. Yell louder? Well, that might just be a start. I follow author and activist Glennon Doyle on social media and she has, as always, been a righteous prophet for many of us. This morning she tweeted:
If a woman tells her story and no one in her government hears her – does her government exist at all? No. Women have no government, so we will become ungovernable. Way to radicalize women, @GOP. We will now become strategically and relentlessly disobedient.
I’m ready and not waiting.