Over the past, year or so, I've started giving MYSELF
trigger warnings. You know, those warnings everyone's using now to signal that
something disturbing is about to be shown/heard/discussed/written about. Since
the last presidential election, I've actually stopped watching almost ALL news
broadcasts, as I realized they were doing serious damage to my psyche. TRIGGER WARNING, Self: You're about to hear Voldemort's
voice. You're about to hear another lie. You're about to hear the POTUS make
another sexist/racist/inflammatory/idiotic remark/gesture/joke. STOP NOW.
I do listen to a little NPR and watch a bit of John Oliver
and Stephen Colbert, just to keep abreast of headlines, and that's how I know
what's going on with Brett Kavanaugh's Supreme Court nomination and the
accusations of Christine Blasey Ford. The story TRIGGERED a memory from my
youth that put the Kavanaugh fiasco in perspective and made me instantly want
to be braid Ford's hair and be her BFF.
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| Supreme Court Nominee Brett Kavanaugh |
When I was 13, I was invited to a "Hi-Y" girls'
sleepover at our local Omaha YMCA. Hi-Y was the Y's community outreach program
for young teens. I had permission from my mom to attend (my working single mom
was probably thrilled to have one of her four kids safe and cared for somewhere
else, for one blessed night). The sleepover would be chaperoned by an adult Y
employee. We would be in lockdown starting at 8 p.m. There would be games,
pizza, pop...a Petticoat Junction pajama party, right? Wrong. SO wrong.
I was a little surprised, when I showed up with my sleeping
bag and duffel, to learn that the chaperone was a 21-year-old guy, Mark. All
was well until dark. As soon as the sun set, Mark unlocked the door long enough
to let in the guys and the beer. At first, it was kinda cool. I didn't drink,
but we played Twister, listened to music, and danced. Then, as the alcohol
kicked in, things got weird. Guys started coaxing, insisting, and trying to
take girls off to darker corners of the Y. Some girls went along; some, like
me, turned into trapped rabbits. No sign of Mark.
At one point, I found my way to the basement and hid, hunkered
down in the corner of a big shower room. My plan was to hide there until
morning, when Mark would unlock the front door. But some wandering teen boy I
didn't know found me. There was only one way out of the shower room, and he
blocked it. I tried to get past. He grabbed me, groped me, tried to shove me
down onto the concrete floor. His hands went everywhere, and I was desperately
trying to pull down my shirt, keep my pants up, push him off me, keep his slimy
mouth away from my body, and get past him, all at the same time. I was
screaming, panicked, convinced I'd be raped. I was 13, and I WAS TERRIFIED. Finally,
thanks to the beer, I managed to swing around him and get out the door. I ran
upstairs, went in the office, and called my mom to come and get me (TOTAL
humiliation!). Then I CLIMBED THE PEPSI MACHINE and perched on top. I made myself
stop crying and even tried to muffle my breathing, so I wouldn't be discovered.
I backed against the wall and made myself as small as I could, until my mom
showed up.
And here's my point: It was sexual assault because I was not a
willing participant.
It doesn't matter what I was wearing, how I looked, walked,
or tilted my pretty head. It doesn't matter that alcohol was involved, or that
no actual intercourse happened. It doesn't matter that boys are different from
girls. It doesn't matter that the kid turned out to be 16, or that we all know
16-year-old boys are walking T-bombs (testosterone), or that he came from a
troubled home, or that he didn't have any strong male role models, or or or or.
This issue is way bigger than my little lower middle-class
white girl bad memories. If Brett Kavanaugh turns out to have done this and then
lied about doing it, and if he doesn't get that it's sexual assault and not
"a little harmless fun," as some have suggested, and if he gets
appointed to our highest judicial body in spite of having done this (if he
did), then TRIGGER WARNING: The Supreme Court can no
longer protect us.
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