One Way Back by Christine Blasey Ford

Posted on by marjorieseidenfeld

Within these pages, Christine Blasey Ford reclaims her narrative – without distortion by the media, by politicians, or by any outsiders – of the facts of her experience of sexual assault by the man who is now sitting on the highest court of our land, Brett Kavanaugh. It is here, with a clear mind, a clear conscience, and clear focus, that she is able to communicate her backstory, her patriotic motivation, and the attempts she made to tell her story earlier in order to prevent Kavanaugh from coming to the point of being nominated in the first place (and in so doing, having to be exposed as he was). She tells about her experience of presenting her testimony and the abhorrent dereliction of duty of the FBI in their non-investigation of the case against Kavanaugh. She also bears her soul about the way in which she endured death threats, shaming, and other hateful acts against her that so many other survivors of sexual assault share – the backlash and the victim-blaming that comes with coming forward. She also shares the moments of support, from those whose names we recognize and those we may not. It is an inspiring, albeit painful, recounting of her journey.

It was our hope, at least that of those in my circle, that we in our country had learned our lesson after Anita Hill. That after our horrific treatment of that courageous woman who stood in front of a panel of old White men who battered her with ignorant questions and brazenly shamed her and disregarded her – we hoped we’d do better when another woman so bravely came forward to challenge the character of a man we were choosing for the highest court in the land. But no, we did not. One might argue that we did worse. We instead chose to discredit, shame, and mock Blasey Ford, who so boldly came forward to do her civic duty, who gave up her own quiet, private, comfortable existence to reveal such personal, intimate details of her life in order to bring a man’s questionable background to light. And it was worse because of social media, the 24-hour news cycle, and the internet access to personal information that enabled thousands to send her hate mail and death threats via so many different routes.

In a country of how many millions, we couldn’t find anyone better than Kavanaugh? There was really no one we could find who HADN’T sexually molested anyone??? Seriously? Oh, but of course we had to choose him. Because we have to only choose those farmed and nurtured by the Federalist Society in order to ensure the most conservative justices to make the most civil rights-limiting decisions on the bench. Because heaven forbid that anyone except White men have any power.

And yes, I am using this platform to rant because Blasey Ford needs to have others support her, to hear her, and to acknowledge that she did the right thing by coming forward and speaking up for herself, for women, and for this country. Because she is right. If little by little, woman by woman, each brave soul comes forward (in spite of the vicious backlash and victim-blaming that so often occurs), perhaps our daughters might have a spitting chance of having a better world. Perhaps our daughters will live in a world in which there are men who are more aware of consent and what defines assault. Perhaps when a woman comes forward, the folks in the room – however large that room may be – will actually hear her.

 

I’m Glad My Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy

Posted on by marjorieseidenfeld

This memoir, with its shocking title, was an irresistible read. Jennette McCurdy, a child star on iCarly, a 1990’s Nickelodeon hit, reveals her lived experience growing up with her mom, Debra McCurdy. From her earliest memory, Jennette learned that pleasing her mother would bring approval, peace and possibly even love – so this became her constant obsession. Whenever Jennette had her own thoughts or preferences, she would find that it was easier to suppress those and just go along with whatever her mother’s preferences were, even when it meant her doing the things she hated – including acting!

As shocking as the title is, so, too, are many of the details of Jennette’s life. So as not to give too much away, I will hold back on these, but suffice it to say, her mom was a narcissist, a hoarder, a pathological liar, and an abusive wife and mother. Nevertheless, this story is told with an admirable dose of humor, humility, and compassion, even when resentment and anger would be entirely justified. Jennette pays a heavy mental health toll for her upbringing and I am hopeful that writing this book was cathartic and therapeutic for her. I have to imagine it was.

One of the consequences for her that I will reveal – skip this paragraph if you plan to read it and don’t want to know anything about her before you do – is that she developed an eating disorder. In fact, at age 11, her mother actually instructed her in exactly HOW to have an eating disorder, which is more the point. They co-restricted, rejoiced together in how little they ate, almost competing in how few calories they might consume in a day, and monitored Jennette’s weight together as a mutual obsession. Her weight became a measure of how “good” she was, in every way possible. And this is how she learned to define herself, her weight truly defined her.

If you’ve read any of my other entries in this blog, you’ll know that this is not the usual genre that I read. I do not generally read about TV or pop stars. But this memoir had its own merits, not because of how famous Jennette is but more because of what she endured and what she fought to overcome. She is an admirable young woman and I hope that she continues to fight the good fight. I hope she succeeds in finding who she is underneath it all.

In the Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado

Posted on by marjorieseidenfeld

In this memoir, Machado shares her experience of a relationship with a beautiful woman that begins as dream-like and erotic and devolves into terrifying and abusive. Through a course of poetic essays, with the Dream House imagery as theme, she portrays how she is entranced, then entrapped, and then, finally, enraged enough to free herself from the woman who has gripped her heart and fractured it in two.

This is, apparently, one of the rare portrayals of queer relationship violence/abuse that is documented by literary means. While books about heterosexual abuse abound, the queer community has been more silent on this topic. It is not uncommon for a marginalized community to feel a loyalty such as this, to hold itself to a higher standard, to try to appear to have achieved a higher ideal. Doing so is an understandable way to try to protect those in the community from further criticism, because, surely, they receive enough as it is. However, by doing so, it denies those who identify as queer as having others believe them , understand their plight, and have others who openly support and identify with them when it does occur. And spousal abuse/relationship abuse can happen to anyone – anyone is vulnerable, no matter your gender identity, your sexual preference, your race, your religion, your ability, your size. This is the harsh reality.

The writing here is poetic and ethereal. The image of the Dream House as both positive and negative images captures the internal struggle of the victim of abuse and the subsequent gaslighting. There can be so much wonder and love and light, but there is also so much darkness and hatred and doom – and it can change in a heartbeat from one extreme to the other. The victim walks on eggshells, constantly apologizing for her own existence. She feels she must have brought this on herself, she must deserve what is happening, because, really, what else could it be? How could someone love her so much in one moment but then hate her so much in another? Maybe if she just acts better, IS better, she can make it right. But of course, it is not her – it is her abuser who is at fault. This is so painfully hard to see when you are in it.

Machado has very generously opened her heart to us. I hope that others come forward with their stories as well in order to create the supportive community that is necessary to acknowledge that this can happen to anyone, queer or otherwise.

 

 

Women in White Coats: How the First Women Doctors Changed the World of Medicine by Olivia Campbell

Posted on by marjorieseidenfeld

There are so many women in medicine today – myself included – that we take it for granted. In fact, by 2017, women outnumbered men in medical school classes in the US. However, just like the right to vote and the right to enter many other professions, women had to wage war to gain entry into what was, by men, considered their holy terrain. In fact, it was not until the late 1800’s, when a few brave, brilliant, and brawny young women on both the European and American continents battled over the course of many years to achieve full MD status.

Many authors credit Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell, born in Britain and later moved to America, as a major pioneer in this area, and she is probably the most well-known. But she could not have moved the needle alone, as they say. While she was fighting the battle mostly in America (although doing a good deal of her clinical training and public speaking in the UK), her colleagues, such as Elizabeth (“Lizzie”) Garrett Anderson and Sophia Jex Blake were waging the war on the other side of the Atlantic. While they were each very different women, approaching their mission with different styles, personalities, and tactics, they also relied upon each other for support and guidance. These women suffered not only prejudice, hardship, and a brutally uphill battle, but also physical oppression. Sophia, and her 6 fellow female students in Edinburgh were harassed to the point of having mud and garbage thrown at them on their way into medical school class by their male colleagues – with the support and encouragement of their male professors. In spite of this, these women persevered, overcoming these unspeakable hardships to go on to establish medical schools and hospitals for women.

It is neither surprising nor novel to read about (white) men fearing others being included among their ranks and using their power, influence, and even violence to attempt to maintain their unilateral hold on a particular enterprise. But while they held on, the field of medicine, particularly healthcare for women, truly stagnated. It was only when women were given full medical practitioner status that women’s issues were brought to the fore and women’s health truly advanced. Women were finally able to come forward and speak about their very private complaints, expose how they’d been treated by some male practitioners in the past, and have advocates with any power to make significant scientific advancements in their care.

This is an incredibly well-researched documentation of a dramatic advancement in the care of women for and by women.. Not a light read, but an important one.