I don’t cry very often. You don’t get very far on Wall Street, where I spent my career before Ellevest, as a crier. But there’s just something about Supreme Court nominations that brings out the waterworks in me.
During Brett Kavanaugh’s hearing, listening to Dr. Christine Blasey Ford give her testimony about him, I remember sitting in the Chicago airport, between flights, and watching it on my phone. I cried. I watched other women bear witness … and also cry.
The tissues came out again last week for Judge Ketanji Brown Jackson’s Senate confirmation hearings. The proceedings seesawed between infuriating exchanges and heart-swelling moments of clarity:
That Washington Post infographic that shows just how much more qualified she is than every other current Justice? Jaw-dropping.
Her long pause — and all the weight in it — when asked by Ted Cruz if babies could be racist? I held my breath. (Antiracist Baby and Stamped (For Kids) are worth a read, by the way — and now both are back on the bestseller list.)
That iconic photo of her daughter watching her testify? (Just read this essay from the young Black woman who took it.) I just can’t.
And the juxtaposition — with a meme, of course — between Justice Kavanaugh’s snarls, sneers, and tears, and Judge Jackson’s composure. The gulf between what’s expected of Black women in comparison to white men is massive.
I think what really gets me has to do with the bittersweetness of these moments — the inspiration with the indignity, the historic with the inane, the look-how-far-we’ve-come mixed with the look-what-we-still-have-to-deal-with. It’s a lot to take in. (And that’s just me — I can’t imagine what it must have felt like for Black women watching.)
Yesterday, Senate Republicans succeeded in delaying the confirmation vote that was supposed to happen this week, and several have already announced that they’ll vote against confirming the most qualified Supreme Court nominee in American history when the vote does come up (it’s now scheduled for April 4).
None of this is surprising, but at the same time, it’s a good reminder that progress is never easy or clean, and there’s always more work to be done — so having a bit of a cry about it now and again? These days, maybe that’s how we know we’re still human enough to keep fighting.
Tearing up about the right things,
© 2022 Ellevest, Inc. All Rights Reserved.
Information was obtained from third-party sources, which we believe to be reliable but not guaranteed for accuracy or completeness.
All opinions and views expressed by Ellevest are current as of the date of this writing, for informational purposes only, and do not constitute or imply an endorsement of any third party’s products or services.
The information provided should not be relied upon as investment advice or recommendations, does not constitute a solicitation to buy or sell securities and should not be considered specific legal, investment or tax advice.
Ellevest Membership fees are as follows: Ellevest Essential is $1 per month, Ellevest Plus is $5 per month, and Ellevest Executive is $9. Other fees as described in Ellevest’s Wrap Fee Program Brochure and the Ellevest Membership Terms and Conditions Agreement will continue to apply.