Speaking Truth to Power - Anita Hill [158]
Lynn Yeakel’s defeat in her challenge against Arlen Specter was a personal blow that differed from the other losses. Ms. Yeakel had made it clear that she was encouraged to run because of the lack of representation apparent from the hearing. This had energized many women in her state but had been used against her. Her community experience and leadership ability were trivialized as Senator Specter painted her as a one-issue candidate. He raised twice as much money as she did and his incumbency and past pro-choice stance carried him a long way. From a philosophical standpoint, the very narrow margin by which Yeakel was defeated represented a victory, especially given the discrepancy in campaign spending. Yet the loss was for many women around the country a marked disappointment. I telephoned her to offer my support. She was gracious in her defeat—satisfied that she had made progress and won a moral victory.
Shortly after the election, Ellen Malcolm, director of Emily’s List, invited me to attend a celebration for the newly elected women senators. For the first time, I met Carol Moseley Braun and Barbara Mikulski, the two women who might restore my belief in politics if I allowed it. I had not prepared but was invited to speak. As I did, I told the story about my mother’s response to Carol Moseley Braun’s election. When I looked at the crowd, I noticed that Senator Mikulski had tears on her cheeks. It was only fair that we trade tears. I assumed that she was crying because I had survived the hearing and in a way prevailed by having a part in the election of the women who were being celebrated. Most observers never questioned Senator Mikulski’s commitment to the equality of women. Yet even her doubters would have been convinced on that day as she welcomed her new colleagues and me to Washington. I can only imagine the loneliness she experienced with no other Democratic female colleagues in the partisan and sexist world of Washington, D.C.
Though six women in the Senate far exceeded pre-1992 predictions, that figure is not high enough. Neither are one African American and one Native American enough to demonstrate the diversity of representation of ideas and experiences of the people in the country. Much more needs to be done in politics and society in general if those numbers are to be raised significantly. Yet I still view my role outside of the political fray. Though I am often asked if I will run for public office, my thinking has never wavered. The answer is always no.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The three-story brick building housing the College of Law at the University of Oklahoma, constructed in 1975, is a tribute to the flow of money resulting from one of the oil boom eras. As I cross the second floor of the nameless building, I glance up at the skylight ceiling of the two-story atrium and around at its brick interior walls—it is horribly noisy and energy-inefficient. A student, Tom March, gets my attention from across the way. “Professor Hill, have you seen the Oklahoma Daily today?” he asks referring to the campus student paper. As he points out the coverage, I hold