Her Story Didn’t Begin in July of 2018
When powerful men try to rewrite history, we need to remind them that this is actually her story.
In 1982, a 15-year-old high schooler named Christine Blasey is at a party with four slightly older high school boys. Blasey is pushed into a room and assaulted by two boys. She thinks she might die that night — but the opportunity arises, and she escapes with her life.
It isn’t entirely intact, though.
For years she is haunted by the assault. She goes from being a “self-possessed,” popular young woman at her private high school, Holton-Arms, to being remembered well by only a select few while attending college. And the man who assaulted her? He’s going on to graduate school at Yale.
In 1988 she moves to California and earns graduate degrees at high-level universities like Stanford and Pepperdine. It may sound like things are going well for Blasey, but that doesn’t mean the trauma from that night in 1982 is gone. This woman will be reminded of just how terribly her country can treat women.
She watches Anita Hill publicly shamed by a panel of men when the law professor brings claims of sexual harassment against a man set to join the most powerful court in the world. It is a reminder to women everywhere that their traumatic experiences matter little to those in power.
A second chance?
An entire country away — almost an entirely new life — and she’s still reminded of not just what it’s like to be a survivor of harassment and assault, but what happens to the women who speak up. The trauma still rules her adult life, despite her professional success.
Next she watches Monica Lewinsky get crucified by a media with rampant political agendas. And the man that assaulted her 16 years earlier? He works with Kenneth Starr on The Starr Report, which urges strongly for the impeachment of Bill Clinton — and argues that the scandal should be as public as possible. So there he is, compounding the shame and contempt that the nation feels for this woman.
For more than a decade, she keeps the attack to herself, trying not to let it ruin her life. Trying to avoid the paths of Hill, Lewinsky, and countless other women forced into the spotlight or victim-blamed.
Today, just under 2% of reported rapes lead to an assailant being convicted.
Two percent.
Add to this that after more than a decade, Blasey wouldn’t have had the evidence — even DNA evidence would have been destroyed by the time her attacker reappeared in the news.
And people wonder why she didn’t come forward sooner.
What would that accomplish? More chances for her to be accused of deception? More harm to pile onto her trauma? Like so many women who stay silent out of fear or discouragement — approximately two thirds — she believed that her story wouldn’t end happily if she reported the crime.
So she tries to move on.
She becomes a professor and gets married in 2002. She changes her name to Christine Blasey Ford. Her husband knows that she’s been sexually assaulted, but doesn’t know every detail of the attack — or who did it.
In 2012, she finally reveals the full details of her assault in a couple’s therapy session. The identity of the attackers are made clear to her husband and therapist. One is now a US Circuit judge. Ford continues to keep the assault private — and her husband does the same.
The last straw
Then her assailant is put on a short list to become one of the most powerful men in the world in July of 2018. The memory of her assault becomes strong enough to affect her in noticeable ways. A 35-year-old trauma consumes her — for the manieth time. Shortly thereafter, Ford contacts The Washington Post through a tip line. After this she speaks to a reporter named Emma Brown and tells her story. Ford asks her identity remain confidential and Brown respects this — sitting on the information for weeks as the man Ford accused is made the official SCOTUS nominee.
Ford writes a letter detailing the attack to her California congresswoman, Anna G. Eshoo, later in July, again asking for her identity to remain anonymous. Eshoo helps send a letter from Ford to Senator Dianne Feinstein, again asking for her identity to remain anonymous.
Both women display great amounts of integrity, keeping both the letters and Ford’s identities confidential. Feinstein continues to battle to keep the accused out of a powerful position, denying herself and her allies a powerful tool. An allegation of this kind could halt the confirmation of a man for long enough to give the Democrats an edge.
Fearing retaliation for bringing up the allegation, even in anonymity, Ford employs the services of Debra Katz — an attorney with experience handling sexual assault allegations. In early August, Katz urges Ford to take a polygraph test administered by the FBI. Maybe that, she thinks, will help to defend Ford’s integrity if her allegations become public.
The polygraph returned “that Ford was being truthful when she said a statement summarizing her allegations was accurate” according to The Washington Post article.
In late August, as the man who assaulted her is marching closer to more power, Ford is still terrified that she will be eviscerated by an angry conservative base if she comes forward. She decides that she will not come forward publicly.
On September 12th The Intercept reports that Senator Dianne Feinstein is withholding documents from her fellow Democratic senators regarding the confirmations hearings. The next day, Feinstein releases a statement saying she’s received “information from an individual concerning the nomination.” She maintains that the source wished to remain anonymous — and again respects that request.
A hint of scandal is just the kind of political capital a senator would normally jump on to get an advantage in a confirmation hearing. For the Democrats, it might be their only chance to clock the confirmation altogether — but Feinstein isn’t blind to the repercussions it would have for Ford.
The New York Times indicates that the information may concern sexual misconduct — leading to a rapid defense of the man who assaulted Ford. Senators in support of the nominee came forward with a letter signed by 65 women, planning to use it to quash any talk of misconduct. The nation is watching now — and the same storm which brewed in the days before Anita Hill’s identity was revealed so many years ago appears again. This time over Ford’s head.
Reporters are contacting her and her coworkers, and more wait for her outside of her classrooms. Christine Blasey Ford watches anxiously as her anonymity begins to slip away. She believes that it is now too late to remain in the dark, and comes forward. Emma Brown publishes her story in The Washington Post. Ford’s lawyer has even prepared her to receive death threats, have her email accounts hacked, and to be doxxed — have her most sensitive personal information broadcast to the internet. But what could be worse than having her trauma thrown under a microscope while simultaneously being told it doesn’t exist?
The backlash against her allegation is potentially lethal — a powerful reaction that she is willing to bare to have a chance to stop her attacker from becoming a SCOTUS judge. But that doesn’t mean she has faith her testimony will be worth anything.
Can you blame her? Her entire adult life she’s watched women close to powerful men be publicly destroyed. Even in the wake of a #metoo revolution, the thought of going before a Senate Judiciary Committee full of men who’ve expressed a disinterest in properly following up her allegations has to be terrifying. She will be dehumanized — an addition to the trauma she’s already dealt with her whole life.
In defense of the man she accuses, Senators claim, simply, that he says he didn’t do it. A president lost his restraint and tweeted to personally question her experience.
Rather than open an investigation into the allegations, the committee has given Ford a deadline of Friday to decide whether to testify in front of them in person. Ford is right to express concern about her safety during any investigations or testimonies — and has already received death threats and been forced to leave her home. Despite this, the nominee’s defenders are taking a hard line position and forcing her to testify Monday, or not at all.
Ford stands on the precipice of a seemingly impossible decision to testify without an investigation — risking her life and possibly her families for an inherently flawed process — or to simply allow the man that assaulted her to become a Supreme Court Justice.
But she will testify. This Thursday, September 27th.
I’m going to make this clear. The man that Ford claims assaulted her is being nominated for the Supreme Court of the United States. A position with more lasting effect than the Oval Office. That, for her and for the millions of women that she knows have experienced something like what she has, is a terrifying prospect. So she decided to share her story. That’s why she’s come forward — it’s that simple.
Claiming that this is a ploy, a conspiracy, or a tactic is flat out wrong. This is not a story fabricated for Brett Kavanaugh, or his confirmation hearings. This is not a story for the SCOTUS nomination. It’s not about the Supreme Court at all.
This is a story about Christine Blasey Ford and the women that helped her come to terms with bringing a sexual assault allegation against a powerful man. Throughout her story, and especially in the last three months, she has placed her trust in women like Emma Brown, Rep. Eshoo, Sen. Feinstein, and Debra Katz. Don’t make the assumption that this was simply because they were her first points of contact or that there was a comradery amongst women. Ford was forced to remain in anonymity and entrust her identity only to women because powerful men have continually failed to live up to the integrity that these women showed.
They failed with Anita Hill. They failed with Monica Lewinsky. They failed with Kristin Anderson (and the 18 other accusers who were ignored prior to November 2016). And now they are failing Ford. The timeline of Ford’s actions lays out a near conspiracy-like secrecy — but you know what? She has every reason to do it this way.
What else can we expect, when women’s integrity, motives, and memories are called into question every time they come forward with an allegation? Because ultimately, the only conspiracy here is the erasure of a woman’s story from history.