The Kavanaugh hearings have made women question their own experiences and become agents of political change
One of the discussion points to have come out of the Brett Kavanaugh hearings has been the question of anger and what women do with it – specifically, where and how they manage to stuff it down low so it doesn’t spill out and get them labelled as lunatics. Lindsey Graham can go the full Foghorn Leghorn; Kavanaugh can howl like a kid with his head stuck in railings; but to be heard, a woman must be demure and unthreatening.
I watched the Kavanaugh hearings with horror and a certain amount of detachment. While female friends texted to say they were in tears, I believed I had it under control; there is simply too much bad news to be undone by it daily. Well, ha. On Tuesday night, Trump addressed a rally in Mississippi and in one of his extemporised asides, poked fun at Christine Blasey Ford. “I had one beer, that’s the only thing I remember!” he jeered, citing her testimony, while behind him the crowd hooted and cheered. And there it was: the kind of adrenaline surge that in movies can only be illustrated by someone putting their fist through a wall.
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