The Long Haul: Kavanaugh, Women’s Voices, and The System Itself

The protest started at 5pm on Thursday. By the time I got there at 5:05, a small group had begun to gather — chanting and holding signs in the air that read, “Kava-NOPE!” or “Believe Survivors,” or, my personal favorite, “I thought Republicans were anti-entitlement.” The police had set up barricades around the sidewalk and were monitoring the flow of people. A few people were exiting the area — coming from Trump Tower — through a small gap in the metal grates. I walked up to the opening and tried to pass through to join the group convened in front of the Trump Tower lobby.

“You can’t come through here,” a police officer said to me. I stopped.

“Why not?”

“This is exit only.”

“Okay, but…I just need to get right over there.” I pointed at the group of forty or so protesters. There was nothing between the group and me but the police officer.

“There’s a protest going on there.”

“I know, I’m with the protest.”

“Well, it’s closed now. You’ll have to stand across the street.”

Five minutes into the scheduled time of the event, it was relatively small and tame. There was a ton of sidewalk space, and public safety surely would not have been jeopardized had I walked over…