Speaking Truth to Power - Anita Hill [48]
Karolyne and I drove from her office to the local theater to see Batman. At first we focused on our work weeks. Then we talked about my visit to the doctor. Despite the news from Margolick, my health concerns were by far the greater distraction. But on the way home, Karolyne asked my opinion of the Thomas nomination, unaware that I had worked with him. She wanted to know what I thought both as a member of the legal profession and as an African American. When I told her about my experience with Thomas, her response was immediate. “You have to disclose this information, don’t you?” Oddly enough, as I think about it, this was the first time someone had suggested that I should raise a complaint about the behavior. I wish my reaction had been so certain. “I’m not sure what I’ll do,” I said. She looked concerned but did not push.
That evening, for the first time in several years, I spoke with Susan Hoerchner. Upon hearing about the nomination, she had instantly recalled our conversations about Thomas’ behavior. As far as she was concerned, Thomas was a complete scoundrel. She reacted as someone witnessing the pain of a friend. She had not forgotten. She did not suggest that I go to the Senate or anyone else with the information. She simply expressed her dismay that inexcusable behavior had seemingly been rewarded.
For years I had spent considerable time and effort convincing myself that what happened to me no longer mattered. For the first time I was forced to consider that it did matter—that the behavior was not only an offense to me but unfitting for someone who would sit on the Supreme Court. I had paid little attention when Thomas was nominated to the D.C. Court of Appeals. He had been confirmed before I had any real idea what was occurring. In February 1990, when Thomas was before the Judiciary Committee for that nomination, I was preparing to go to Europe. Now it suddenly hit me that the behavior I knew about was no longer simply a personal concern, that the Supreme Court mattered to me as an attorney and as a citizen, and that I had a responsibility to provide the Judiciary Committee with relevant information. At the same time, it occurred to me that this nomination was a political move, despite George Bush’s declarations to the contrary. The depth of the political force behind the nomination would not be revealed until weeks later, but even then I knew politics was an inescapable factor. As the controversy over the nomination emerged, my course of action became even less clear.
I am by nature a cautious person, and on July 1, 1991, I had not had a chance to weigh all the factors. Moreover, even if I decided to disclose my information, I was not sure whom to contact. At the time, I was convinced that my name would surface in a thorough Senate investigation. I relied on the process to find me instead of interjecting myself into the process. In retrospect, this may have been my way of deferring responsibility for making a decision. I reflected on my experience, and I waited to hear from the Federal Bureau of Investigation or the Senate Judiciary Committee. The wait lasted from July to September.
Much of the spring I had been preoccupied with trying to get the correct prognosis and treatment for the condition. In late summer, after seeing several doctors, I found a female gynecologist who had had the same condition. She discouraged me from simply taking pills to alleviate the pain and recommended exploratory surgery. She performed the surgery in July 1991 and confirmed the condition but could not determine the tumors’ size or location. The surgeon recommended their removal, with the possibility that a hysterectomy would become necessary. I was thirty-five years old, and for the first time, being without children and single weighed heavily upon me.
Surgery was unavoidable and I knew it, but I also knew it might alter my life forever. I had never had a burning desire to have children. And I looked at JoAnn’s children with