Alyssa Milano on Being in the Room with Kavanaugh's Rage
The room was small, really tiny-and it was filled anger.
I've done a lot of work on the Hill in the last 20 years-lobbying for certain issues, taking meetings with senators-and for all the dozens of times I've been in those hallways, I've never felt tension like I did yesterday.
When Kavanaugh walked in, it felt like a scene out of a movie. He walked through the door, he walked down the aisle, and all you heard were the shutters from all the cameras-capturing him, capturing this moment in history. There were some audible gasps. The room shifted. Some people left, saying they didn't want to hear what he had to say, while his supporters arrived. I'm glad that I stayed.
I couldn't see his face. All I could see was him pouring water and his back moving up and down as he breathed really deeply, almost like an animal.
But I could hear him-his anger and his rage. And I could feel it.
Kavanaugh was so volatile and emotional. I was just sitting there thinking to myself, If a woman had acted like this during a line of questioning, she would be considered totally unhinged or hormonal or accused of having a meltdown, or worse, of being a bitch. So watching him, I just felt like, this guy does not have the temperament to be on the Supreme Court, regardless of the allegations.
I was trying to be super stoic. At the beginning of the hearing, I got a text from my best friend that I was in the camera frame and I was right over Kavanaugh's shoulder. Maybe I'm idealistic, but I believe in the political process, so I was trying to be respectful. I know there were comments. Some of them about my appearance. I think they're a perfect example of the way in which women are objectified.
But before the arrival of the rage, I felt hope.
Listening to Christine Blasey Ford's testimony, there were things I will just never forget. What she remembered so vividly-the hearing of sounds going down the stairwell, that she was wearing a one-piece bathing suit, the laughter-those little details that victims of sexual assault know are so imprinted on our being, it just really struck me.
It was interesting to me that the optics Republicans were so fearful of-white men asking a woman about her sexual assault-that they had a prosecutor there created a sense of disengagement. They didn't have to look her in the eye, be alert, or find empathy in how to ask her a question. I had a perfect view of it, and instead, they were checking their phones, whispering to each other.
It was all so emotional. I was sitting next to Senator Kirsten Gillibrand, and at one point she passed me a tissue. I rubbed her back. It was a moment of solidarity for the women who were present. It was heavy.
I think if the testimonies were swapped-if Kavanaugh had gone first and we had left after Dr. Ford's testimony-I would have felt better. But when I left, I felt total defeat.
And yet, not hopeless, because I believe: We're going to take back the House. We're going to take back the Senate. And once that happens, I'm going to lobby my heart out to get Kavanaugh impeached.
I completely and totally understand that the worst fears of sexual assault survivors have been realized. The fact of why we don't report has been played out in such a public way in the last 48 hours. This is truly why we don't report on a very grand scale.
But that doesn't mean we can't continue to raise our voices, tell our stories, to come together as women, to volunteer for candidates who believe women and will support them. November is coming-and we will vote.
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