Ruth Charney
Ruth Charney

Do you remember the Greek myth about Cassandra? Remember how Cassandra was courted by the god Apollo and how he gave her the gift of prophesy?

Our grandchildren often debate the comparative virtues of super powers. They pick speed, flight, strength, climbing tall buildings, but no one ever chooses prophesy. Even Cassandra, might have wished for a different gift, especially given what happened next in the story: How Apollo pursued Cassandra until she spurned his unwanted entreaties. So, he punished her with a horrid curse: to be doomed to know the truth, but not to be believed.

When she warned the city of Troy of its imminent threat – the Trojan Horse, placed in their midst – the people of Troy didn’t listen; they dismissed the warnings; then laughed. And so they perished, the warriors and her country.

To speak truth, to not be believed, to face derision, is indeed a tragic fate.

Which brings us to current events. This time the speaker is Professor Christine Blasey Ford. She cannot literally foretell the future, but, at great personal cost, she foretells its implications. I believe her story. I believe her truth and not because of partisan politics, but because we all know the story too well. If not survivors of assault ourselves, then we have listened to our sisters, daughters, sons, friends and colleagues. And we know the credibility of their words and experiences. We know the effects of collective shame, self-blaming, and secret-keeping.

And because there is this context and familiarity, we were watching the hearings, listening and hoping that this time the national conversation would be different. This time, there would be no derision and condescension. “We believe that she was hurt…but…,” some said. “But… it’s a case of mistaken identity.” So much rests of those “buts.”

Belief has different aspects. There is the truth of the story itself and there is its significance and severity. Both have been contested. Doctor Ford said she knew who her attacker was. She was unequivocal, “100 percent sure.” Her truth, that unequivocal truth, was ultimately denied by those who questioned the validity of her knowledge. And by others, who doubted her motivation and called her a pawn. The condescension was evident as well in the treatment by those senators and in the mockery of the president. Apollo’s punishment still at work.

And so what gnaws away at my gut is at the heart of the Cassandra myth.

There are so many people who know what it means not to be believed, and who know only too well how unsafe our world can feel. We have experienced the interruptions, the voice-overs, the eye rolls when speaking our truth in a landscape of insult, crude jokes, derision and denial. We have struggled hard to grow a more confident voice and a more assertive posture. We have had to force ourselves to speak truth to power and not to back down when challenged by those in authority.

We can thus imagine the courage and conviction that Doctor Ford exerted to take the witness stand. We could see it, couldn’t we?

Many years ago, I stepped out of my comfort zone to become an advocate for an approach to teaching children. It meant that I had to lead workshops and give keynote speeches. Despite my roiling discomfort. On one occasion, one that I remember in Technicolor clarity, though it was 30 years ago, a participant sat front row, sprawled out, before a large audience of his peers, and made a great show, when I started to talk, of opening his newspaper, reading it, turning each page with loud, crackling sounds, and then demanding an answer to a question that had been already answered. Even his peers had had enough of his outrageous behavior. But I could only ignore it…or pretend to ignore it. Yet, it cast its indelible mark. And his actions were rudeness not assault.

To tell the truth and not be believed is a centuries old punishment. And yes, some 4 to 10 percent of assault accusations are false, according to the Journal of Forensic Medicine. However, that means that 90 to 96 percent are true –  that the vast majority of those who brave public disclosure to expose sexual assaults are among our bravest truth-tellers. Although Cassandra’s warnings were to no avail to her people, we do know what’s at stake for ourselves, our nation and for our future if we ignore our truth-teller. Whatever the immediate outcome of the confirmation hearings, as the signs downtown say: I believe her.

Ruth Carney of Greenfield contributes regularly to My Turn.