Lisa Senecal of Stowe is a columnist for VTDigger. A fourth-generation Vermonter who grew up in Orange, she is a writer, co-founder of the Maren Group and chairperson of the Vermont Commission on Women.
In early 2015, Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsberg was speaking at George Washington University in Washington, D.C., and was asked a question that she had been asked before, “What number of female justices on the Supreme Court would be enough?”
She answered as she always had: “When there are nine.”
And as always, the questioner followed up by asking her if she really thought it would be right to have an all-female court. I admit, I had the same question. Ginsberg’s response felt like a slap to the side of my head: For almost 200 years, few thought it strange that the court was all male.
Just as Thurgood Marshall’s appointment in 1967 signaled the end to an all-white court, Sandra Day O’Connor’s appointment in 1981 ended the all-male court — at least I hope those exclusionary models are things of the past. Still today, it’s impossible to imagine a Supreme Court exclusively comprised only of women or solely of people of color, yet for nearly 200 years, the highest court in our land — all-white, all male — issued hundreds of rulings with direct impact on the lives of women and people of color and it was considered normal — or really wasn’t considered at all.
I do not believe that Ginsberg was seriously suggesting that there should be an all-woman court. Her statement seems more an intellectual challenge or cultural exercise that goes far beyond the Supreme Court. Where else are decisions being made that have an impact on the lives of a diverse group, but continue to be made largely by homogeneous bodies?
White paternalism runs deep in our country. If you doubt that is true, ask yourself if white men would expect to be treated fairly if they went before a jury of women or people of color. It wasn’t until 1973 that all U.S. states had laws that required women to be allowed on juries. Though Black Americans had the legal right since the 1930s to serve on juries, most states created other obstacles until the late 1960s.
And, yet for the first 200 years of our nation’s history, women and people of color were routinely judged by all-white, male juries. Laws governing us all were largely made by all-white, male legislative bodies. Every piece of federal legislation ever signed into law had been done so by a white man.
This is not intended to be a criticism of white Americans or men, but it is critical we be aware of the bias that remains in our systems of government, justice, and the private sector. Gender or racial diversity that we see in any of these systems today are the result of intentional, hard-fought — and often court-ordered or legislated — modifications to systems that valued cisgender, straight, white men above all others.
That’s why we don’t have court rulings or laws specifically guaranteeing rights or protections to that group because, even without those protections, the laws were de facto rights and protections for white men.
Our American history, built on that system of exclusion and supremacy, is what makes the nomination of Kamala Harris as the Democrats’ vice-presidential nominee so consequential. It was only 100 years ago that people of Harris’ gender finally won the right to vote. Even more striking is that Black women continued to be largely denied that right until the Voting Rights Act of 1964.
Today, efforts to disenfranchise people of color continue and we still have much work to do, but today we also have a Black woman on a major party presidential ticket. Never again will it be impossible for a little girl of color to imagine a woman of color breaking that glass ceiling because she will know that it has happened.
I wish John Lewis had lived to see Kamala Harris nominated for vice president. I am certain that it would have pleased him immensely. Harris had joined Lewis on walks across the Edmund Pettus Bridge to commemorate Bloody Sunday. But the bridge in history that Harris just crossed stretches much farther back in history and was built by women with names like Frances Ellen Watkins Harper, Mary Ann Shadd Cary, Mary Church Terrell, Nannie Helen Burroughs and Ida B. Wells.
There is much work yet to be done on that bridge to full equality, but how exciting it is to imagine little girls watching Kamala Harris today who will be inspired to continue building that bridge tomorrow.
