Speaking Truth to Power - Anita Hill [64]
I went into my home, concluding that the only purpose of the exercise was to capture me when I was not expecting to be photographed, a form of “ambush” journalism relying on the theory that a surprise visit might elicit some telling response or reaction more newsworthy than a formal interview. Apparently, the statement I had issued the previous day explaining that I would be giving a press conference was not adequate. The competitive nature of the industry required “extemporaneous” reporting. Privacy—my own right to enter my home without intrusion—meant nothing compared to the potential “news” the ambush might elicit. I did not rush into my house to avoid the crew, but frankly, I was very annoyed that I could not go home in the early morning hours without being confronted by reporters. After all, the story had not changed while I slept. This crew’s approach promised that the thoughtful handling the story had received from Phelps and Totenberg would be a thing of the past. In its wake would follow the familiar kind of careless, untrustworthy journalism I had dreaded from the beginning. The crew dismantled their equipment and left my neighbor’s lawn. It was barely 7:00 A.M.
I had watched news conferences before, but never expected to participate in one myself. As I dressed that morning, I realized that I had no idea what I would encounter. The people who would be helping me were novices. Already, Dean David Swank’s office was swamped with telephone inquiries, and the press corps swarmed the hallways like locusts. The media attention was focused on the law school building. And to quell the uproar, Dean Swank announced that the press conference would take place as planned. As a matter of consideration for students, staff, and faculty, who were in a state of bewilderment about the entire situation, the law school location made sense. But this choice created a different uproar. “You’ve got to send her someplace else,” objected the university administrators. “What about the local Holiday Inn?” one official demanded. David Swank held his ground: “She is a member of this faculty. I will resign before I turn her away.” Later, public officials excoriated him for his stand.
The conference was initially scheduled for 10:00. CNN asked that it be postponed for an hour so they could carry it live. We agreed. I saw no point in appearing unreasonably uncooperative with the media. Besides, a delay gave me more time to brace myself.
I drove to the law school by myself and crossed the fifty or so yards from the parking lot to the law school building. Two of my colleagues, Associate Dean Teree Foster and Rick Tepker, spotted me and met me on the walkway, sparing me from having to step into the turmoil alone. Inside the building the scene was surprisingly calm. Most of the press had gathered in the classroom where the conference was to take place. I went to the dean’s office to discuss the procedure with Foster, Tepker, and Swank. Though we were used to evincing self-confidence in most situations, our inexperience showed. And the press statement issued the day before would later be described as amateurish. No doubt it was one of the first Rick Tepker had ever written. But we were all amateurs. There were none of the high-paid professional “handlers” to which Senator Alan Simpson would later allude with disdain. I did not even know what the term “handler” meant until later that day when advised by the press.
As I walked down the crowded hallway to classroom 2, familiar faces offered reassurance. The circumstances