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The observer | Wednesday, October 14, 2020 | ndsmcobserver.com
Sexism is never OK (unless I think you’re wrong) Ellie Konfrst Consider This
It’s fair to say that these past few weeks have been a bit of a whirlwind — I keep feeling like every day I need a recap of all the news from the previous day, like the ones they put at the beginning of TV episodes. Yet, through all the debates and discussions and COVID-19 diagnoses, I’ve found one thing that’s stuck with me, permeating all the noise. With women like Amy Coney Barrett and Kamala Harris sitting in the center of the political universe, I’ve noticed that sexism has snuck back into public discourse in a really sinister way. As a female political science major, the sexism faced by women in politics often feels particularly personal. I’m hoping to enter a career in which my ideas are respected, my intelligence is acknowledged and I have access to the same opportunities as my male colleagues. While I recognize that politics is a notoriously exclusive field, I hoped that at the very least, I would be able to avoid outright misogyny. Based on the events of the past few weeks, I’m feeling increasingly disheartened about that goal. In case you’ve missed it, President Trump nominated Amy Coney Barrett to the Supreme Court, and there is only one biographical fact you need to know about her: She has seven children! The New York Post inadvertently summarized the sexist way Barrett’s nomination to the highest court in the land has been framed in the first line of their profile of her: “Judge Amy Coney Barrett is a wife, mother of seven, and a devout Catholic.” The fact that Barrett is a wife and a mother are likely parts of her identity that she finds personally important, but they have next to nothing to do with her capabilities as a legal mind. Especially coming from those on the left who are opposed to her nomination, the repeated emphasis of her motherhood comes with an unspoken implication: How could she
possibly be a good Supreme Court Justice and a good mother? The misogyny is perhaps more overt from the right, however. After Senator Kamala Harris’ participation in last week’s vice presidential debate, many Republican lawmakers commented on her performance in unmistakably gendered ways. Her colleagues in the Senate shared their thoughts on Twitter: Marco Rubio tweeted a joke relying on the sexist stereotype that women can’t be trusted with national security, and Chuck Grassley expressed his belief that Vice President Pence won the debate because he was more likable. President Trump, on the other hand, was more straightforward, calling Senator Harris a monster. Once again, critiques of Harris invoked her womanhood, in and of itself, as disqualifying. At this point, I feel that it’s important to say that I don’t think Amy Coney Barrett would be a good Supreme Court Justice, and I don’t think her nomination is a step forward for women. Her legal and political beliefs are far more conservative than mine, and I tend to believe that her record restricting abortion rights would make this country much more dangerous for most women. Additionally, despite being more aligned with her views, I believe that Kamala Harris has a record worth critiquing, and that some of her past policies (like jailing single mothers for their children’s truancy) are decidedly bad for women. What has always been odd to me about relying on misogyny to take down women in politics is that they usually have a substantial public record worthy of criticism. More so than any other public figures, women with a career in politics make decisions and enact policies that can be extremely controversial and debatable. By resorting to sexist attacks, all critics do is expose their own misogynistic tendencies and cheapen legitimate critiques of their targets. Given both of their extraordinarily high levels of professional success, it seems pretty clear to me that Barrett can probably balance a career with seven
children, and that Harris’ hormones don’t influence her decision-making capabilities. They have earned the right to have their careers discussed honestly, and in good faith. In general, I don’t tend to subscribe to the notion that putting women in positions of power, regardless of the impacts they have, is a feminist act in and of itself. However, it is clear to me that making sexist arguments to prevent women from gaining political power is an inherently anti-feminist act. The question may be popping into your head about now: Why does this even matter? These are both incredibly successful women who will survive a few mean tweets. That is absolutely true, and good feminism, in the same way that it understands that any woman gaining power is not progress, recognizes that the true struggle for equality happens on the ground level. It involves helping low-income women whose reproductive rights would be threatened by Barrett, or providing aid to the single mothers jailed by Harris to help them pay for their next meal. This conversation still matters, though, because we cannot permit sexism against any woman, even if we don’t like her, or even if we think she deserves it. We cannot continue to foster a culture in which sexism is seen as a political tool and not a rejection of women’s humanity. By the time I graduate from Notre Dame with my political science degree, I hope we have moved even one step closer to a world in which my gender is not innately disqualifying, and women like me can be assessed, for better or for worse, on our merits. Ellie Konfrst is a junior majoring in political science, with minors in the Hesburgh Program for Public Service and civil & human rights. Originally from Des Moines, Iowa, she’s excited that people will finally be forced to listen to all of her extremely good takes. She can be reached at egloverk@nd.edu or @elliekonfrst13 on Twitter. The views expressed in this column are those of the authors and not necessarily those of The Observer.
LETTER TO THE EDITOR
The law school faculty owe us an explanation and an apology Since the White House Rose Garden Ceremony two weeks ago, many newspapers, including The Observer, have focused on the behavior of Notre Dame President Fr. John Jenkins. However, Jenkins’ egregious maskless handshaking behavior wasn’t the only violation of Notre Dame’s COVID-19 policies that day. According to one source, 17 Notre Dame professors, administrators and spouses attended the event in addition to Fr. Jenkins. While Fr. Jenkins’ apology may have been lackluster, the silence in the walls of the law school is deafening. I am a third-year law student. I am also immunocompromised. And I am shocked, appalled and frankly embarrassed by the behavior of the law school faculty and staff who attended the White House Rose Garden event. The fact that they felt it necessary to attend the function in the first place goes against school policy, but I can understand that decision. However, the fact that many of them took off their masks, sat right on top of each other, hugged and shook hands and then, when word got out that a number of the attendees tested positive for COVID-19, decided not to quarantine and did not apologize for their behavior is all beyond the pale.
It shows a lack of leadership, a lack of empathy and frankly, a lack of common sense. I am aware that many of them received rapid tests before the event, but clearly those tests were not effective, judging by the sheer number of people who tested positive mere days later. And even if they hadn’t, optics matter. When asked by the New York Times about their decision to go mask-less, two anonymous members of the Notre Dame delegation said it stemmed from a “desire to politely blend in, as a guest at a cocktail party may remove a tie upon realizing everyone else was dressed business casual.” They also expressed regret. This is not enough. Wearing a mask in a time of pandemic is nowhere near wearing a tie to a cocktail party. Wearing a mask is the best known method to contain the spread of a deadly virus — wearing a tie is a fashion choice. Wearing a mask saves lives — wearing a tie might save your shirt from a ketchup stain. Wearing a mask is an effective measure of protection — wearing a tie is a mere showing of elegance. Maybe the next time a student is reprimanded for meeting up with friends without masks on, they should cite their recent negative COVID-19 tests and say they just did it to “politely blend in.”
And it should not escape our notice that their regret is anonymous and in a national publication. If they are truly regretful, why haven’t they reached out to students apologizing? If they are truly regretful, why have they not quarantined? If they are truly regretful, why have they not explained their actions to those they affect the most — those they may infect, should they test positive in the next few days? Notre Dame puts itself out as a bastion of morality — but the behavior of the last two weeks has gravely tarnished that reputation. Professors concerned about their students would have at the very least worn masks. Moral leaders would’ve considered the message they sent by participating in this kind of event while students doing the same would be met with strict punishment. A school that cares about health and safety would require the same quarantining of professors who have been exposed as it does of students. My law school classmates and I have received our administration’s message loud and clear: Do what we say HERE, but ignore what we do THERE. Allison Lantero third-year law student Oct. 8