TUESDAY, JUNE 7 , 2022. THE WASHINGTON POST EZ RE A21
TUESDAY Opinion
BY ALICIA PLERHOPLES
H
ow does a school react when free-
dom of speech and matters of equi-
ty collide?
That’s exactly what happened in
January when law scholar Ilya Shapiro, who
was days from starting a leadership position
at Georgetown University Law Center,
tweeted that any of President Biden’s poten-
tial nominees to the Supreme Court would
be “lesser black women.”
Now, we have an answer — but not a good
one: After an administrative review, George-
town Law last week ended Shapiro’s paid
leave and again welcomed him to be execu-
tive director of its Center for the Constitu-
tion. In doing so, the law school trampled
over values of equal educational opportu-
nity. And for what? Shapiro resigned his post
Monday morning, arguing in a letter and
accompanying Wall Street Journal op-ed
that the university abandoned free speech
because it might punish him the next time
he “transgress[es] progressive orthodoxy.”
This is not the first time we have seen the
sort of thinking that went on at Georgetown.
On campuses and in other public squares
across the country, free-speech rallying cries
typically come at extraordinary costs to
marginalized groups. Elevating freedom of
speech while discounting every other value
often means accepting the denigration of
women, people of color and Indigenous
people.
I have been on the Georgetown Law
faculty for 10 years and am one of three vice
presidents of the University Faculty Senate.
After Shapiro posted his tweet, many faculty
members, including me, called for the re-
scission of his employment contract. Sha-
piro had not yet begun working at the law
school, and we felt he had already defied
Georgetown’s “commitment to more fully
embrace diversity, equity and inclusion.”
Others came to Shapiro’s defense, citing
Georgetown’s policy on speech and expres-
sion, which upholds the “untrammeled ver-
bal and nonverbal expression of ideas.”
These supporters were the expected con-
servatives and libertarians, but liberals, too;
the lionization of free speech cuts across
ideology.
Ultimately, the university found that Sha-
piro did not violate its policies of nondis-
crimination and anti-harassment because
he was not employed by the school at the
time of his tweet and thus not subject to
those policies. (It’s unclear how he could
thus be protected by the university’s free-
speech policy, but I digress.)
So how should Georgetown uphold its
commitment to equity while still valuing
free speech? The line between nondiscrimi-
nation and freedom of speech is not always
clear. But in some instances, statements
cause enough institutional harm and per-
sonal pain that they make a person unfit for
a job in educational leadership.
Shapiro would have headed a major pro-
gram at Georgetown Law that conducts
lectures and conferences on constitutional
law, sponsors student fellows and serves as a
clearinghouse for judicial clerkships. These
are critical opportunities for law students.
Retaining Shapiro in the role would have
closed off the center’s offerings to our Black
female students — and probably to many
other women and students of color — who
saw and understood his tweet to mean that
Black people and women are of “lesser”
intelligence and import.
These students would have not only suf-
fered mental anguish as they internalized
yet another authority figure belittling their
capacities based solely on race and gender
but also possible adverse career conse-
quences should they have avoided Shapiro’s
center, as might have any rational person
who wished to avoid amplifying the discrim-
ination they already face.
And for all the talk about Shapiro’s right
to untrammeled speech, little was devoted
to Black women’s right to the same. Sha-
piro’s tweet added to the stereotypes our
Black female law students face daily. His
characterization of Black women — and his
presence — could easily have had a chilling
effect on the speech of these students, who
already have far too many complexities and
challenges they must consider when they
speak in law school.
Some point to the fact that Shapiro delet-
ed his tweet and apologized as evidence that
our Black female students would have suf-
fered no educational loss at Georgetown
because of his presence. After all, mind-sets
are not fixed. With self-reflection, dedica-
tion and hard work, people can learn from
their mistakes and correct the damage those
mistakes did.
Of course, we should all be able to make
mistakes, interrogate our own biases and
work to do better. But is that happening in
this instance? Shapiro’s post-reinstatement
victory lap in the form of a Wall Street
Journal op-ed last week perpetuating dan-
gerous notions of victimhood indicated oth-
erwise. His ultimate resignation proved it.
Teaching Georgetown Law students is a
privilege. And all students deserve to walk
into our lectures, our conferences and our
classrooms knowing that they will be re-
spected as individuals — not judged by their
race or gender. For all free speech is worth,
this is the most basic and essential value of
higher education that Georgetown should
uphold.
The writer is a professor at Georgetown University
Law Center.
Free speech
can’t trump
other values
on campus
I
f you’re a Democrat looking for rea-
sons to be hopeful about your elector-
al prospects, then I’ve got one of those
classic good news/bad news scenar-
ios for you.
The bad news — everyone always wants
the bad news first — is that your party is
heading for a world of hurt in November.
Every poll can’t be wrong.
The good news is that getting blown out
in 2022 might well be the only path you
have to holding the White House in 2024.
I’m not saying the costs of a Republican
takeover in November won’t be steep in
the short run. These aren’t the conserva-
tive revolutionaries of 1994 or even tea-
party types of 2010. This is the mutant-
gene version of a Republican uprising, a
full-on crazy-eyed dystopian movement
of conspiracists and authoritarians.
Brace yourself for no end of mindless
investigations, assaults on the electoral
system and nativist proposals — a virtual
“peach tree dish” for paranoia as govern-
ance, to quote Rep. Marjorie Taylor
Greene (R-Ga.).
But everything we know about modern
politics suggests that the best way —
maybe the only way — for a Democrat to
be reelected is to also be the last guy
standing between the broad American
electorate and a whole lot of Republican
crazy.
There’s a pattern here. After narrowly
winning the presidency in 1992, Bill Clin-
ton immediately set about trying to re-
write the social contract and embroiling
himself in distracting cultural issues. He
became the first Democrat in almost
50 years to lose control of both chambers
in the ensuing midterm elections.
Clinton moderated his message and
stared down the new Republican majority
over its shutdown of the federal govern-
ment. He was reelected easily.
Twelve years later, Barack Obama
swept into office on another Democratic
wave, went on his own government-
e xpansion bender and suffered his own
stinging midterm rebuke. Recast as the
lone bulwark against Republican radical-
ism, Obama was returned to office by a
comfortable margin.
Biden, similarly, has spent most of the
past two years trying to satisfy the ascen-
dant left of his party — the cringy-
s ounding “Squad” and so forth — in a
mostly vain effort to enact some kind of
sweeping agenda. The party in charge has
spent inordinate amounts of time talking
about police reform and college loan for-
giveness, while the rest of the country
worries far more about rising crime and
the price of gas and groceries.
No one at the White House will say this
out loud, certainly, but the fact is that
losing control of the House (and possibly
the Senate) in November would instantly
make the presidency a more manageable
job. It would curb the power of the
Sanders-Warren wing, freeing Biden to
pursue the kind of mainstream liberal
agenda — his landmark infrastructure
law being a good example — that the
voters thought they were getting in the
first place.
Meanwhile, a newly emboldened Re-
publican majority — like space junk orbit-
ing its Trumpian star — will gravitate even
more strongly toward antidemocratic
themes of election fraud and intolerance.
Like Clinton and Obama before him,
Biden will have the chance to rebrand
himself as the grown-up standing firm
against bullies and extremists.
Instead of spending every free minute
trying to hold the whiny factions of his
own party together, Biden can give states-
manlike speeches in defense of principles
that resonate with the broad electorate.
(In the two years after his party lost
control of Congress, Clinton issued no
fewer than 17 vetoes, all in the name of
protecting the voters from reckless Re-
publican policy.)
More to the point, the president would
then be free to run against Washington
itself, which is the only way anyone has
won the presidency since Watergate.
Short of campaigning against Vladimir
Putin himself, Biden will not find a less
popular adversary than the United States
Congress.
Right now, with Democrats in charge,
Biden’s odds of reelection look bleak. Give
these Republicans a couple of years to
show us what kind of government
they have in mind, however, and Biden
will look like Abraham Lincoln by
c omparison.
And should Biden decide not to seek
reelection (which I still think more likely
than not in the end, despite what he says),
then the party’s best nominee will almost
certainly be someone from outside Wash-
ington who can credibly promise to
change the culture of the place. That, too,
is a much easier assignment when the
other party controls Congress.
I realize all this is small consolation to
my Democratic friends, who fear that
November’s verdict could irreversibly
transform the country. I do, too. But they
should consider what will happen if Don-
ald Trump returns to power in 2024.
If that outcome leads — as I think it
might — to the end of our constitutional
republic, then maybe losing the midterms
isn’t the end of the world.
MATT BAI
Why losing
the midterms
might not
b e so bad
A
nother Pride season is upon
us, and with it come the hun-
dreds of companies eager to
show how supportive they are
of the queer community. I walked into
my local Target last week and was
a ssaulted by all the rainbows. Rainbow
shirts and jackets, books, accessories
and home decor. There was rainbow
pet clothing. It was a lot to take in for a
man who was there to buy toilet paper
and gum.
As a gay man, I’m a bit ashamed to
say I don’t remember when the whole
rainbow thing got started. I don’t re-
member when the flag was chosen, nor
do I recall when people stared display-
ing it as a symbol of allyship. It just
appeared all of a sudden, and I was told
that I’m supposed to identify with it.
I have never bought anything deco-
rated with rainbows. My disposition
doesn’t allow for it.
But Target is certainly not the only
outfit to sell rainbow-colored Pride
merchandise. Even giants such as
J.C. Penney and Kohl’s have gotten in
on the act. This leads some to take
offense. I mentioned the dazzling dis-
play of Target’s Pride merch to a young-
er friend after my visit, and she rolled
her eyes. “They only want our money,”
she said. “They have no real interest in
the queer community. I’m so tired of
corporate queer-for-profit nonsense.”
And this is where she and I don’t
completely agree.
My first Pride parade was back in the
early 1990s, and there wasn’t a rainbow
or corporate sponsor in sight. It was a
rainy and miserable day in Pittsburgh,
and I was terrified to participate. Up
until that point, I wasn’t fully “out” and
had decided to march in the parade as a
first step toward becoming so. My
group was small; there was no place to
hide. I didn’t want to do it. And it
turned out there was reason to be
afraid.
Our march took place in the down-
town area on a Saturday afternoon. The
people on the sidewalks were not kind.
They heckled and yelled slurs. They
pointed and laughed. One woman
shook a Bible at me. I recall no alterca-
tions that day, but there easily could
have been. People were allowed, even
encouraged, to be openly hostile to
queer people.
My young friend says she has no use
for Pride gatherings today. “It’s overrun
with straight people with their kids,
and it’s basically just a joke,” she
told me.
I understand what she’s saying. But
my younger friend was fortunate
enough to come out and immediately
find community. After some difficulty,
her parents have grown to accept their
daughter and her partner. While fan-
tastic for her, this is also the weakness
of her argument. She doesn’t know
what she doesn’t know.
Besides, does she not see the wave of
anti-LGBTQ sentiment and lawmak-
ing washing over the country? Right
now, we should be welcoming the sup-
port of however many straight people
and companies want to give it — and
however they want to give it. I under-
stand there are some in the queer
community who believe the rainbow-
ification of the movement has de-
clawed it. But it’s not a zero-sum game.
For every rainbow keychain, someone
is out there fighting the good fight.
In my youth, I could not have imag-
ined a store selling merchandise cel-
ebrating what I had been led to believe
was the biggest shame of my life. I
wonder how a 13-year-old me would
have reacted had I seen how positively
normal it is to be gay — so normal that
a department store is selling T-shirts
about it. I wonder whether those of us
who marched in that parade would
have held our heads up higher simply
in the knowledge that we were not, as
the hecklers said, sick and depraved.
I know queer people who are more
“woke” will disagree. But if you never
see yourself represented, you are most
likely to believe what others say about
you. Representation matters even if it
comes in the form of a rainbow shirt on
a dog. Somewhere, that dog shirt is
helping someone.
So, although I won’t buy rainbow
merchandise, I’m glad it’s there as-
saulting my eyes in Target. Yes, it’s
capitalism at work, and it’s soulless.
But it’s there. I remember what it was
like to feel totally alone. Some other
kid might see it and realize they aren’t
alone. And realize they are among
others, many others. And that, some-
where, they can find acceptance.
BRIAN BROOME
Pride rainbows mean
I am not alone
JOHANNA GERON/REUTERS
Participants unfold a rainbow flag during the Belgian Pride Parade in Brussels on May 21.
were cut from varsity teams. They’ve
subjected opposing teams to racial
abuse in an effort to rattle them. Wanda
Holloway notoriously hired a hit man to
knock off her daughter’s rival for a slot
on the school cheerleading squad, as
well as the girl’s mother.
Yes, those cases might sound extreme.
But it appears inevitable that some ag-
grieved adult could use the Ohio law to
even more devious ends than those for
which it is intended.
And let’s be clear about what the use —
not just abuse — of the Ohio legislation
would mean.
In plain language: Verifying some-
one’s gender through an examination of
“the participant’s internal and external
reproductive anatomy” means a doctor
must look at a young athlete’s genitals.
And a standard pelvic exam involves a
physician putting their fingers inside a
patient’s vagina while pushing on the
pelvis with their other hand. Asking a
student to choose between an unneces-
sary medical exam and a desire to keep
playing sports is vicious; morally, if not
legally, it’s a kind of medical rape.
The potential to damage children
doesn’t end there. The legislation also
doesn’t define what “normal” genitals,
testosterone or genetic makeup are.
That means, as one parent pointed out
on Twitter, that children could be judged
based on the size and shape of their
genitals. And the experience of Caster
Semenya, a South African Olympian,
demonstrates that natural variations in
genetics or testosterone levels could be
used to shift children and young adults
from one sex category to another — or
leave them in a kind of undetermined
zone.
Republicans in Ohio’s statehouse in-
tended to draw more rigid gender
T
he latest trend in American poli-
tics is to encourage snitching.
Last week in Ohio, this nasty-
minded moment reached a new
nadir: If a measure passed by Republi-
can state legislators becomes law, any-
one could force girls and young women
to submit to invasive gender-verification
tests if they want to stay on their high
school and college sports teams.
It would be cruel enough merely to
ban transgender students from girls’ and
women’s athletics. But this bill opens the
door to something worse: using weap-
onized genital exams to expose an imag-
ined invasion of transgender girls.
In a sane world, even the most med-
dlesome and ardent opponents of trans
female athletes would pause at the
thought. But sane is apparently a lot to
ask these days.
Ohio’s measure would require that “if a
participant’s sex is disputed,” the athlete
in question must provide a doctor’s note
confirming their physical sex on the basis
of “the participant’s internal and exter-
nal reproductive anatomy,” “the partici-
pant’s normal endogenously produced
levels of testosterone” or “an analysis of
the participant’s genetic makeup.”
The proposal also would give anyone
— whether a parent eager to eliminate
their child’s competition or a national
activist looking to make local trouble —
the standing to challenge an athlete’s
gender, and provides no disincentives
for making false reports.
Beyond the ways in which the meas-
ure would harm young trans athletes,
there is no check on the vicious ways in
which hypercompetitive parents might
use this bill to hurt not just trans girls
but any young women. And we know
those ruthless parents are out there.
Parents have sued after their children
boundaries — in a place where only five
transgender athletes are competing in
school sports this year, according to the
Ohio High School Athletic Association.
Instead, they’ve set the stage for wide-
spread gender confusion and sexualized
intervention into children’s sense of
themselves.
Disastrous as this bill is, it feels like a
logical conclusion to a wave of legisla-
tion encouraging ordinary citizens to
police their neighbors.
In Texas, this has meant not just
giving people the right to sue anyone
who helps a woman obtain an abortion
beyond six weeks but also providing
financial bounties for successful law-
suits as an incentive. It means Texas
Gov. Greg Abbott (R) asking “members
of the general public” to report parents
who provide gender-affirming medical
care to their transgender children, so the
state can investigate those parents for
child abuse.
In Florida, that means Gov. Ron De-
Santis (R) signing legislation that allows
parents to sue schools if they suspect
their children are being taught critical
race theory, a specific academic disci-
pline that has been transformed into a
catchall boogeyman. And in California,
it means an effort to give citizens the
ability to sue gun manufacturers and
distributors.
The fad for private rights of action
started as a fiendishly clever attempt to
work around Roe v. Wade. It has
morphed into a broader movement and
mind-set encouraging people to tattle on
one another to the courts or the state —
with grave consequences.
Ohio’s senators and Gov. Mike
D eWine (R) still have a chance to pull
children and young adults back from
this abyss. Let’s hope they take it.
ALYSSA ROSENBERG
A new low in anti-trans bills