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CHAPTER 1
REMEMBRANCES: THE ANITA HILL HEARINGS — TWENTY YEARS LATER
LOUISE M. SLAUGHTER MAUREEN DOWD PATRICIA SCHROEDER
Louise M. Slaughter:
The battle to let Anita Hill's voice be heard will always be one of the most important battles I've ever fought, and one of the seminal moments of my time in the United States Congress.
Throughout the hearings, our approach to a mountain of opposition was simple: we just wouldn't accept it. In addition to our many meetings demanding that Anita Hill be allowed to speak, our small group of outraged congresswomen stayed at the Senate Judiciary Committee throughout, listening to every minute of the hearing, our intentions clear. We were going to make sure that Anita Hill's story was told.
I look back with mixed emotions upon one of the most important events in modern American history. The indifference that many of our male colleagues in the House and Senate showed toward Ms. Hill was a microcosm of the way women were being treated all across our country. Women were being shown what happens to you if you speak up against male superiors, and the attempts by many of our male colleagues to silence Anita Hill were reprehensible.
Yet, the grassroots uprising that the hearings sparked among American women was a great step forward for women, and a turning point in American culture. The hearing was a key moment when American women joined together to demand equality. The victory that American women achieved that day is something that has always stuck with me, especially when it comes to fighting for women's freedoms, rights, and equality.
One of the most important things we can do is to teach our children and grandchildren about the tremendous levels of indifference and discrimination women faced just twenty years ago, and the need to always be our fiercest advocates.
Maureen Dowd:
The Anita Hill hearings were the most searing professional experience of my life, like a psychic dentist's drill sinking into the most sensitive, least explored parts of the national consciousness on sex, race and power.
My friend Ruth Marcus of the Washington Post has said that everyone in the Senate Judiciary hearing room that week couldn't wait for it to be over.
I felt the reverse. I wanted it to go on longer, until the web of lies Clarence Thomas wove with such bravado was torn away. I kept waking up in the middle of the night trying to figure out what had really happened between these two intense, accomplished people. Any rush to justice might mean a justice on the Supreme Court who had used the Big Lie and lynching imagery to cow a bunch of white, male senators.
I remember chasing Arlen Specter down the hall to ask how he could vilify Hill as a bitter perjurer? I remember feeling outraged when Joe Biden, the chairman of the committee, cut the hearing short before calling the two women who could have testified to Thomas's unseemly intimidation of women in the office. I remember feeling disheartened that Edward Kennedy, muted by his own reputation with women, could not combat Orrin Hatch's absurd contention that Thomas, an aficionado of X-rated films, was an altar boy who could not possibly know the language of pornography. I still remember Clarence Thomas with his hand on a Bible ascending to the Supreme Court for life.
Patricia Schroeder:
In 1991, when I was co-chair of the congresswoman's caucus, I organized a few of us to make one-minute speeches at the opening of the congressional session about our great, so-called liberal leaders on the Senate Judiciary Committee. These guys just didn't get it. They were ignoring sexual harassment allegations against Clarence Thomas, and they didn't want Anita Hill to testify.
When we women finished our speeches, we realized the Senate Democrats were meeting that day for policy discussions so we decided to march over to the Senate and talk to them in person. March we did! You may remember seeing front-page pictures of us striding up the steps of the building. We knocked firmly on the door. Majority Leader George Mitchell opened it.
"Sorry," he said "We don't let strangers into our meetings."
STRANGERS! We were dumbfounded but we had the presence of mind to point out that a huge press corps was following us. Mitchell quickly agreed to meet with us later in his office and there, he agreed to pressure the committee into letting Anita Hill testify.
Chairman Biden grudgingly put her on the witness list but not in prime time. He also rejected the other women who stepped forward as witnesses. It was painful to watch the Democratic senators on the Judiciary Committee — those cowardly lions — quiver and quake. They were pitiful, and no help at all.
Anita Hill knew the real Clarence Thomas. Anita Hill warned the nation about him. Sadly, those who could have done something to prevent his joining the Supreme Court did not listen because in their eyes, women's claims of sexual harassment had no gravitas.
Anita Hill, you are, and will always be, my hero!
CHAPTER 2
A THANK YOU NOTE TO ANITA HILL
LETTY COTTIN POGREBIN
I want to personally thank you, Anita Hill, for what you did for us twenty years ago. Thank you for speaking up and speaking out. Thank you for your quiet dignity, your eloquence and elegance, your grace under pressure. Thank you for illuminating the complexities of female powerlessness, and for explaining why you didn't complain when the offense first occurred, and for describing how cowed and coerced a woman can feel when she is hit on by a man who controls her economic destiny.
Twenty years ago you had the courage to tell the truth and do what women rarely did: Make a scene. Fifty years ago I didn't.
In the 1960s, when I was a book publishing executive, single, and self-supporting, I was once trapped in an elevator with a powerful male journalist whose good offices I depended upon to give favorable coverage to my company's books. With absolutely no warning, the man suddenly pinned me against the elevator wall, groped my breasts, and shoved a hand under my skirt. Did I press the emergency button?
Of course not. It would have caused a scene. A scene would have imperiled my career. A scene would have marked me as a prude, a troublemaker, and that grimmest of all characters, A Girl With No Sense of Humor. A scene would have infuriated and embarrassed the man. A scene might have made the newspapers, exposing his crude and thuggish behavior to his wife. In the end, the person who would pay a price for his humiliation would be me. He would bad-mouth me in the industry. He would give my company bad press, which in turn would reflect badly on my work and put my job at risk.
That's why, instead of screaming and pressing the emergency button, I giggled while I fought him off. I spewed wisecracks as I twisted out of his grasp. I tried to keep smiling while frantically stabbing the "L" button. Finally, the elevator doors opened on the lobby floor and I made a run for the street.
It wasn't the first or the last time that I escaped an unwanted sexual advance and ended up feeling sullied, scared, cowardly, and somehow at fault. Far worse happened to friends of mine and to hundreds of thousands of working women in even more difficult financial circumstances.
But thanks to you, Anita, we and our daughters and granddaughters now feel empowered to press the emergency button and report offensive behavior. Thanks to your brave, frank testimony and your stately comportment in the face of hostile interrogation and vilification by members of the Senate Judiciary Committee, we no longer laugh off unwanted sexual advances; we file charges. We no longer protect our attackers from humiliation; we name names. We demand that our employers stand accountable to their published policies against harassment and that the offender be punished. We may still be risking our jobs, but more and more of us are telling the truth.
It all started with you, Anita. We honor you for what you did. We thank you for making a scene — for doing it fearlessly before the eyes of a riveted nation, and thus inspiring millions of women to defend their dignity as you did yours.
CHAPTER 3
TWENTY YEARS LATER
DOROTHY SAMUELS
The weekend of the Thomas-Hill hearings and the political maneuvering that surrounded them quite literally stopped the nation.
Testifying before the all-male Senate Judiciary Committee, Anita Hill told in frank detail of being subjected to vulgar sexual advances by President George H. W. Bush's nominee to the Supreme Court, while she worked for him a decade earlier at two government agencies. Her account, and Clarence Thomas's angry if unforthcoming response had Americans glued to their TV screens. It was soap opera, and a riveting social, legal, and political history lesson all rolled into one.
Across the country, in offices, homes, universities restaurants, and on street corners, people talked of nothing else. The ensuing debate over who was telling the truth and whether such behavior by a Supreme Court nominee, if it occurred, should defeat a president's choice for the nation's highest court, at once divided and united the nation.
Suddenly, thanks to this mass consciousness-raising exercise, the issue of sexual harassment was out of the shadows. And we have been seeing and feeling and living the ripples ever since.
For Professor Hill's courage and her grace and perseverance under unimaginable pressure, all Americans, and women especially, owe her a tremendous debt of gratitude.
What follows is a distinguished group of individuals, some of whom had direct personal involvement in the events that transpired on Capitol Hill twenty years ago, and all of whom have valuable experiences and insights to share which can help us understand what happened in the Hill-Thomas drama and why it still matters today.
CHAPTER 4
ANITA HILL: STILL SPEAKING TRUTH TO POWER TWENTY YEARS LATER
CHARLES OGLETREE
When Anita Hill went to testify in Washington, DC in October 1991, she spoke truth to power. And it may be that for a moment power prevailed. But, in reality, the truth finally is upon us. The women's movement stood firmly behind Professor Hill, and twenty years later we can celebrate the power of truth!
Before I address the issues of sexual harassment, I want to acknowledge a warrior we recently lost in the struggle for gender equality. He was with us twenty years ago, and, his spirit is with us today. My mentor, hero, and teacher, Professor Derrick Bell passed away on October 5, 2011. If Derrick were alive today, he'd be in the back row, not the front, cheering on women saying, "We have to equalize society if we're ever going to make progress." Thank you, Derrick, for standing up.
To give you a context about the magnitude of this loss, as we celebrate the landmark stance by Professor Hill in 1991, we must remember Derrick Bell was always a progressive. He was the first African American with tenure at Harvard Law School, but then left the school because Harvard didn't tenure more people of color. He went to the University of Oregon, and became the first African American dean of a major American university. He left there in 1985 because they refused to give an Asian American woman tenure. He came back to Harvard. A few black men were there when he returned, including me, but Harvard had not hired a woman of color to its tenure track faculty. In 1990, Professor Bell, defiant as always, took a stand, speaking truth to power, when he proclaimed: "Unless Harvard hires a woman of color on the tenure track, I'm leaving." After that proclamation, hundreds of students were in front of a rally at Harvard on the campus in 1990 and Derrick Bell was about to speak. He was introduced that day by a skinny kid who was a second-year law student at Harvard Law School, and the president of Harvard Law Review. His name was Barack Obama. Obama talked about Bell's contribution to diversity. The most important thing he said in introducing Professor Bell in 1990: Derrick Bell was the Rosa Parks of the legal profession. Think about that. Barrack Obama was well informed about the future as well as the past.
It became even more interesting a year later. I'm minding my own business, not tenured yet at Harvard Law School, and I get a call to come assist Professor Hill. I was happy to do that and to assist the volunteer team of lawyers and supporters in the preparation for her appearance before the United States Senate Judiciary Committee, then composed of over a dozen white men, Democrats and Republicans. After what I thought was a productive preparation session, I returned to my hotel room for a short nap before departing early the next morning to return to Cambridge. I had planned to get an early morning flight because I had to complete writing and editing a law review article that would ultimately become a part of my tenure package. At about 6:00 a.m. on an October morning in 1991, two women knocked on my hotel room door. Amazingly, they were able to come up to a secure floor and knock on my door by falsely telling the hotel security team that they were my family. One was Professor Emma Coleman Jordan and the other was her colleague, Professor Sue Deller Ross. Emma and Sue said, "You can't leave now." I said, "I can and I must! I've got to get back to Cambridge, work on my tenure package, and finish editing this law review article." They said, "No, we need you to support Professor Hill." I said, "I've done that. I've cross-examined her. She's ready." They said, "No, we want you to be the lead lawyer." I said, "Well, this is not good timing. But I will do it." And they said, "There's one other thing." I said, "What else?" They said, "We've got a breakfast at 7:00 a.m. You need to tell the other lawyers that you're the lead counsel now."
We did it. We used everything we could to challenge those who weren't supportive of Anita Hill's testimony. But, so history is recorded correctly, I want to make one correction. Senator Howell Heflin, the senator from Alabama, was firmly in Professor Hill's corner. The questions he asked that day ("Are you a scorned woman?") were rhetorical. He was pointing out how absurd it was to suggest that she was anything other than a person who had been a victim of sexual harassment.
For me the moment of understanding about this case was when I saw twelve white men standing in judgment of this black woman, having no sense that they had been in some way connected with some form of harassment. How could they be judging her? Senator Arlen Specter and I were on one of the television networks the Sunday morning before the convening of the Hill-Thomas hearing, and I went after him on what appeared to me to be a conflict of interest role in being an accuser and a fact finder. "You can't be a prosecutor and the judge. You have to be clear on your role as a senator. Decide your role." Apparently, he did not appreciate my claim. At the end of the hearing, he refused to even shake my hand.
Every night at midnight or one o'clock I would call my wife and family to report what was going on. One night I called home and my twelve-year-old daughter, Rashida, came on the phone and she said, "Dad, I've been watching the hearings. I want you to know I believe Anita Hill." To make that come full circle, Rashida went on to NYU Law School, where she was a Root-Tilden-Kern Public Interest Fellow. And she was taught by and served as a teaching assistant for none other than Derrick Bell. Two generations of Ogletree's were fortunate to be taught by Professor Derrick Bell.
What's important to remember is that Professor Hill stood up for others, not just for herself. That puts her in a class with Susan B. Anthony, Rosa Parks, Fanny Lou Hamer who said, "I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired." With Eleanor Roosevelt, Hillary Clinton, my grandmother, my mother, my aunts, my daughter, my three granddaughters, who are growing up in a world where they know they are and can be the best possible they can be and neither gender nor race will be a barrier because they know that they can overcome. Because Anita Hill stood up for the rights of women in 1991, we can all stand up to salute her in 2011.
CHAPTER 5
BUT SOME OF US ARE BRAVE
LANI GUINIER
I start with a confession. Clarence Thomas and I were friends in law school. It was not surprising, since he and I were two of very few black students in our 1L class. We both wanted to become civil rights lawyers. Because of my ties to the NAACP Legal Defense Fund (LDF), I was able to help Clarence get his first summer job working with an integrated law firm in Savannah.
In the Spring of 1973, Clarence and I had driven to Philadelphia from New Haven so we could hear Elaine Jones, a brilliant LDF attorney, give a mesmerizing speech about the civil rights cases on which she was working. LDF represented black applicants trying to gain admission to the state bars throughout the South. By then Clarence had told me that he wanted to go back to Savannah "and work for a black law firm handling civil rights cases." At his request, I helped him raise the money that enabled him to spend the summer between his second and third years of law school working at the law firm Hill, Jones and Farrington in Savannah. In his memoir, Clarence describes Bobby Hill, one of the firm's named partners — and one of the few black elected officials in the Georgia State legislature — as "flamboyant, brilliant and courageous." During the time Clarence worked in Savannah that summer, I interned at LDF, assisting Elaine Jones on the bar discrimination cases she was pursuing throughout the South.
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Excerpted from "I Still Believe Anita Hill"
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Copyright © 2013 Amy Richards and Cynthia Greenberg.
Excerpted by permission of Feminist Press.
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