This piece was inspired by the fearlessly bold Dr. Christine Blasey Ford, who testified before the Senate Judiciary Committee in September about being sexually assaulted in high school by (now Supreme Court Justice) Brett M. Kavanaugh. I think of Dr. Ford often. I still believe her.
I’m worried about Dr. Christine Blasey Ford.
It’s been five months since Dr. Ford fearlessly testified that Brett Kavanaugh sexually assaulted her in high school. Five months since she sat at the walnut table in front of the Senate Judiciary Committee, leaned into the microphone and spoke her truth. Five months since she answered questions for four hours about one of the most private and traumatizing memories of her life. Five months since she politely asked for caffeine. Five months since she admitted to having had to move her family multiple times for fear of their safety in the face of this controversy. Five months since she shared that she had insisted upon building a second front door during a home renovation. Five months since she admitted when she couldn’t remember something. Five months since she recounted the things she could.
Five months since Dr. Ford uttered the words that still haunt me: Indelible in the hippocampus is the laughter, the laugh—the uproarious laughter between the two, and their having fun at my expense.
Five months since those in power decided to silence a woman’s voice—however clear, however controlled, however brave, however credible, however intelligent, however bold—in favor of amplifying a man’s. Because it was louder. Because it was indignant. Because it howled in the face of a threat to its privilege. Because it is the way it has always been. Because the perpetrator cried “Victim!” Because we are not ready, as a society, to believe women. To support women. To uplift women. To allow women.
What is she doing now? Has she resumed her work? Has she moved back into the house with the two front doors? Has she had nightmares of that night all those years ago, or have they been replaced with her testimony at that walnut table, the nation weighing in on her trauma like they were casting votes for American Idol? Has she had to explain to her children that the same man about whom Mommy told the truth will be a man who will spend the rest of his life ensuring girls and women no longer have autonomy over their own bodies?
What’s autonomy, Mommy?
I’m worried about Dr. Christine Blasey Ford. I’m worried for all of us.