“Happy for the outcome; sad he had to be treated so badly,” a woman commented on my mother’s Facebook post in celebration of the Senate’s confirmation of Justice Kavanaugh. My mother and her friend teach preschool together in deeply conservative Northeast Texas, where I grew up. Lots of nice, white Southern ladies live in my hometown, ladies who these days seem to be even more passionately Republican than their husbands are.
It’s tempting to excuse their choices. I know these women. They taught me grade school, I attended parties they hosted, I sat next to them in mass on Sundays. They never did me ill; some of these women were even occasional sources of kindness and encouragement during my childhood. And yet they helped elect a self-proclaimed sexual assaulter to the White House, and now they openly celebrate the confirmation of an accused sexual assaulter to the Supreme Court.
It’s tempting to be wounded by their actions, but to take recent events personally would be to misunderstand. The nice white ladies with whom I’ve shared the red soil and green trees of the Piney Woods are just publicly performing their submission to the patriarchy’s display of power. If they’re compliant, at least they’ll fare better than people of color, or so the thinking goes. It’s an old deal, but a rotten one, since we women, all of us, are subordinates and sex objects under the system, and compliance is no guarantee of safety.
It’s tempting to be wounded by their actions, but the next election’s only 29 days away. This is no time to give away power like that. We must dispel fogs of discouragement and despair. We must gather the red hot rage of betrayal and injustice and channel it into our most potent prayers and spells, all of which contain the same word of power: VOTE.