All language subtitles for What.the.Constitution.Means.to.Me.2020

I first performed
this little show

a decade ago,
uh, for an audience

of maybe 20 people,
mostly friends.

I've performed it
during presidential elections,

Supreme Court hearings,
marches and protests.

Every time I walk out there,
the world has changed.

Bye, girl.

-Yep. -I never quite know
what's gonna happen.

-Thank you.

Hi. Hi. Thank you.

Thank you all so much
for coming out tonight.

Uh, I'm Heidi. Welcome.

Uh, when I was 15 years old,
I would travel the country,

giving speeches about
the United States Constitution

for prize money.

This, uh, this was a scheme
invented by my mom,

a debate coach,
to help me pay for college.

I would travel to big cities,
like Denver, Fresno.

-I, uh, I would win

a whole bunch of money,
bring it back

to put in my little
safety-deposit box for later.

I was actually able to pay

for my entire college education
this way.

-Thank you. Thank you so much.

It was... it was 30 years ago,
and it was a state school,

-but thank you.

Uh, a few years ago,

I was thinking about
the Constitution

for various reasons.

And I, uh, I thought
it would be interesting

to go back and see what my
15-year-old self loved so much

about this document--
because I loved it.

I was a zealot.
So I called my mom.

I asked her
to send me my speech.

She had thrown it away.

-Uh... which is weird,

'cause, like most moms,
she saves everything.

When I was 12, I got a buzz cut,

so I could look like
Annie Lennox,

and she still has
the bag of hair.

-But for some reason,

she threw away
my prize-winning speech.

So I thought
what I would do is...

resurrect the speech
and the contest

based on what I remember
about myself at 15.

Here are, uh...

here are a few things
I remember.

In, uh, in addition

to being just terrifyingly
turned on all the time...

...I was obsessed with witches
and the Salem witch trials,

uh, theater-- here I am!--

-and, uh...

-Thank you. Thank you so much.

And most importantly,
Patrick Swayze.

This is the American Legion Hall
in Wenatchee, Washington.

This is where I'm from.

The "Apple Capital
of the World."

It's a small town.
It's a little bit conservative.

This is not a-a naturalistic
representation of the hall.

I got my friend Rachel
to help me reconstruct this

from my dreams.

I guess it's kind of like

one of those
crime victim drawings.

Also, I forgot a door.

Uh, oh, oh, also this.

This is the actual book I used
to prepare for this contest.

Your Rugged Constitution.

It is fantastic.

It has all of these
cute little cartoons

that explain
the amendments to you.

It's, uh, it's endorsed
by Herbert Hoover.

-Uh...

I actually noticed recently

that this copy was published
in 1956,

which means it didn't have
all the amendments,

but that never stopped me
from winning.

Actually,
I didn't lose very often,

because I was just really
fucking good at this contest.

My fiercest competitor was
this genius girl, Becky Dobbins,

who every year gave a speech
about how the Constitution

was a patchwork quilt.

-Uh...

The thing she was
so good at, though,

is that, in order to win this,

you had to draw
a personal connection

between your own life
and the document.

And Becky was great at this.

She would tell
these incredible stories

about her...
her pioneer grandma who...

I don't know, like,
ate people along the trail.

-This part...

this part was
so much harder for me at 15.

I just, I was very emotionally
guarded as a teenage girl,

and I did not want to talk
about my grandmother.

Uh, we'd give these speeches
for rooms filled with older,

mostly white men.

Uh, hi. Hi.

There's so many of you.

Uh, in my memory,
they were always smoking cigars,

though I think
that can't be true, right?

But I would love it
if you could help me out

and just all become
the men for me.

So you are all men now.
Thank you.

Uh, thank you.

Okay, I'm gonna start now.

I'm gonna be 15, but I'm not
gonna do anything weird

to make myself 15,
so, uh, here I am, I'm 15.

Good morning.

-Good morning.
-Welcome to the regional finals

of the American Legion
Oratory Contest

here at LCW Legion Post Number
Ten in Wenatchee, Washington.

This contest exists
to develop a deeper appreciation

for the U.S. Constitution
among high school students

and to help them
pay for college.

Here are the rules!
Now, this is a two-part contest.

In part one, the contestants
get seven minutes

to deliver a prepared oration

that demonstrates
his or her understanding

of the Constitution
and draws a personal connection

between their own lives
and this great document.

In part two, the contestants
will draw an amendment

from this can.

They will not have time
to prepare a speech.

They will have to speak
extemporaneously

on this amendment.

Now, this part of
the contest is tough,

and I'm not gonna make it
any easier on these kids.

We want to give them the idea
of what it'll be like

when they're arguing in front of
the Supreme Court one day.

Today's contestants are
Becky Lee Dobbins

from Lawrence, Kansas,
who brings us

"The Constitution Is
a Patchwork Quilt,"

and Heidi Schreck
from Wenatchee, Washington,

"Casting Spells: The Crucible
of the Constitution."

Let's give these kids a hand
before the contest starts.

-Get it out of your systems.

All right! All right, there!

All right, there.

Heidi Schreck.

Please approach the podium.

Your time begins...

-...now. -The Constitution
is a living document.

That is what is
so beautiful about it.

It is a living, warm-blooded,
steamy document.

-It is not a patchwork quilt.

It is hot and sweaty.

It is a crucible.

Do you know what a crucible is?

It is a pot in which you put
many different ingredients

and then
you boil them up together

until they transform
into something else--

something that is
sometimes magic.

So, you see, our Constitution
is like a witch's cauldron.

Of course...

you all know so much more
about the Constitution

than I do because you have
all fought in wars.

-Thank you.

Thank you for fighting
for our country,

and also for giving me
so much scholarship money.

Looking at all of you reminds me

of a-a fantasy
I used to have as a little girl

about being attacked
by a rapist or murderer.

A rapist or murderer
who is a man.

Like all of you.

In my fantasy, I am able
to talk the rapist and murderer

out of murdering me
because I am able

to make you see that,
just like you,

I am a human being.

You say,
"I'm here to murder you,"

and I say, "No.
Think about this for a moment.

Just like you,
I am a human being."

And then, you see me for
the first time as a human being.

You say, "Oh, my God,
you're right.

You are a human being."

And then you start to cry
and I forgive you.

-And a rainbow appears.

And we climb up
on this rainbow together.

And by this time, a-a big crowd
of my friends from school

has gathered on the street
below, and they're so jealous

to see me walking
on this rainbow.

"How can she be so special?

Doesn't she have to be
in school?"

And I'm like, "I'm delivering
this poor man to heaven.

Have a good time in gym class!"

How does this relate to the
crucible of the Constitution?

Well, you see, a crucible
is a boiling pot--

that is one definition--

but a crucible,
it's also a severe test,

a test of patience or belief.

A-A severe test such as the one
you and I went through together

-when you wanted to murder me.

Just like with our situation,
our Constitution

can be thought of
as a boiling pot

in which we are thrown together
in sizzling and steamy conflict

to find out what it is
we truly believe.

This is why it's such
a radical document.

202 years ago,

a group of magicians
got together

on a sweltering summer day
in Philadelphia,

and they wanted to kill
each other, but instead...

...they sat down together
and they performed

a collective act
of ethical visualization.

Or as I like to call it,
a spell.

Now, did they get
everything right? No.

No, they didn't.

But that's what amendments
are for, right?

Which is why,
to conclude my speech,

I would like to tell you
about the most magical

and mysterious amendment
of them all: Amendment Nine.

Amendment Nine says:

"The enumeration
in the Constitution,

"of certain rights,

"shall not be construed
to deny or disparage others

retained by the people."

Do you know what that means?

It means
just because a certain right

is not listed
in the Constitution,

it doesn't mean
you don't have that right.

The fact is there was no way
for the framers

to put down
every single right we have.

I mean, the... the-the right
to brush your teeth.

Yes, you've got it.

-But how long do we want
this document to be? -

Here's another example.
When I was a little girl,

-I had an imaginary friend
named Reba McEntire. -

She was not related
to the singer.

Just because our Constitution
does not proclaim

the having of imaginary friends
as one of my rights

does not mean
I can be thrown in jail

for being friends
with Reba McEntire.

Isn't that amazing?

Think about it for a moment.

Our Constitution
doesn't tell you

all the rights that you have
because it doesn't know.

Justice William O. Douglas,
the great Supreme Court justice,

when he talked about
Amendment Nine,

he used the word "penumbra."

What is a penumbra?

Well, gentlemen...

...here I am,
standing in the light,

and there you are,
sitting in the darkness.

And, uh, this space between us,

this space right here
of partial illumination,

this shadowy space right here--
this is a penumbra.

People laughed at Douglas

for calling it this,
but I like it.

I think it's a helpful way
to think about the Constitution

and also maybe about our lives.

I mean, here we are,

stuck between what we can see
and what we can't.

We are trapped in a penumbra.

It-It-It's like how
when I was a little girl,

I used to believe
that I was a changeling.

I mean, I still think
I might be a changeling,

but I'm gonna go ahead and keep
acting like a human being

until my real family
comes along to claim me.

-I would sit

on the shores of Spirit Lake
in the shadow

of Mount St. Helens,
and I would wait

for my real family,
the swimming fairies,

to grab me by the legs
and pull me under the water.

And we would swim down deep,
as deep as we could possibly go,

and just when I thought
I was about to drown,

we would pop up in another lake
on the other side of the world.

And when I stepped onto
the shores of this new land,

I would finally understand
who I really was.

That is why I love
Amendment Nine so much.

Because it acknowledges
that who we are now

might not be who we will become.

It, uh, it leaves

a little room
for the future self, and...

and-and we-we just have to hope

we don't drown in the process
of figuring out what that is!

-Thank you!
Thank you so much. Thank you.

-Thank you, sir.

Thank you.

-Thank you.
-No applause, please!

Now for the extemporaneous part
of our contest.

Miss Schreck, I'm gonna ask you

to pick an amendment
from this can.

I loved this part
of the contest.

The, uh, the adrenaline,
trying to remember

all the facts
about an amendment.

Also, my dad
coached me on this part,

and it was nice
because I was 15,

so we were having
a really hard time,

and, uh, talking about
the Constitution

was a way for us both to pretend
I wasn't becoming a woman.

Amendment Fourteen, section 1.

Amendment Fourteen
is big, folks.

It contains
four different sections

that have changed the lives
of every person in this room.

Now, because Fourteen
is such a bear,

the contestant will only address
section 1 of this amendment.

Ready?

Amendment Fourteen, section 1:

"All persons born or naturalized
in the United States,

"and subject
to the jurisdiction thereof,

"are citizens
of the United States

"and of the state
in which they reside.

"No state shall make
or enforce any law

"which shall abridge
the privileges or immunities

"of citizens
of the United States;

"nor shall any state
deprive any person

"of life, liberty, or property,
without due process of law;

"nor deny to any person
within its jurisdiction

the equal protection
of the law."

Well done.

She will have one minute
for her overview

and two minutes to address
each of the four clauses

of Amendment Fourteen,
section 1.

Just a reminder:

make this as personal
as possible.

Tell us how this amendment
has affected your life.

Your time begins now!

Okay, okay, okay, okay,
okay, okay, okay!

So, the Fourteenth Amendment
is like

a giant,
supercharged force field

protecting
all of your human rights.

It, uh, it comes right after
the Thirteenth Amendment,

which, as you all know,
abolished slavery,

ending the most shameful chapter
in our nation's history.

Lincoln knew, though,

that just abolishing slavery
would not be enough,

so he got his friend
John Bingham

to help him write the Fourteenth
and Fifteenth Amendments:

the Reconstruction amendments.

These amendments made
the newly freed slaves citizens,

gave them equal protection
under the law

and protected
their right to vote.

This amendment, Fourteen,

huge force
in the civil rights movement.

It, uh, it facilitated
the desegregation

of schools, buses, hospitals,

although that would take
over a hundred years.

And let's be clear, somebody
had to activate the force field.

It, uh, it took the heroic work
of civil rights leaders

like-like Dorothy Height,

Bayard Rustin,
Martin Luther King Jr.

to rouse the great powers
of Amendment Fourteen.

Uh, uh, uh... Oh!
I do want to note

that Amendment Fourteen
gave equal rights only to men.

Black women
were not given these rights.

No women
were given these rights.

The question of Native American
rights never even came up.

Even Lincoln was trapped
in a penumbra on that one.

This is the first time
that the word "male"

is explicitly written
in the Constitution.

So, whereas before there was
a little room for interpretation

about whether women could vote,

now it was explicit:
we could not vote.

Lincoln asked us to wait
just a tiny bit longer

to get the vote--
just, like, 54 years longer.

-Voting is
outlined in section 2.

Please stick to
Amendment Fourteen, section 1.

Right, sorry. Wonderful.

-My dad says

this is what we call
the penalty box of democracy.

Sometimes you have to wait
for things.

Sometimes it's better
to fix one bad thing

-than to try to fix two bad
things and fail. -

Clause 1.

"Any persons born on U.S. soil

"and subject
to the jurisdiction thereof

are citizens
of the United States."

Your time begins now.

Clause 1 overturned

the most disgusting Supreme
Court decision in history:

Dred Scott v. Sandford.

Dred Scott was a slave
who sued for his freedom in 1857

after living as a free man

with his wife and daughters
in Illinois.

Not only did
our Supreme Court rule

that Dred Scott would have
to go back to being a slave,

they decided
in a seven to two decision

that no person
of African ancestry

could ever become
a United States citizen.

Four members of this court
owned slaves themselves.

Although he lost,
Dred Scott's brave action

ignited the forces of abolition,

led to Lincoln signing
the Emancipation Proclamation

and enshrined in law

right here
in the Fourteenth Amendment

the right of every person

born on U.S. soil
to become a citizen

except Native Americans.

One other tricky thing
about this clause is that

it actually--
it doesn't say anything about

how immigrants
can become citizens.

It leaves it up to the whims
of lawmakers

to decide who they think
is a good immigrant

or a bad immigrant.

For example,

in 1882, our government decided

that Chinese immigrants were
dangerous and stealing jobs.

So they passed
the Chinese Exclusion Act,

which made immigration
from China illegal until 1943.

On a... on a... on a...
on a deeply personal note,

my great-great-grandmother
Theresa

was considered a good immigrant.

She came to Washington State

from Gengenbach, Germany,
in 1879

because
my great-great-grandfather

ordered her from a catalog.

The reason that she was
considered a good immigrant

is that the male-to-female ratio
in Washington State at this time

was nine to one.

I-I don't know if she wanted
to come to America or not.

I do know that she died at
age 36 in a mental institution

and that therefore she was never
actually able to become

-a citizen. Thank you!
-Clause 2.

"No state shall make
or enforce any law

"which shall abridge
the privileges or immunities

of citizens
of the United States."

Your time begins now.

Clause 2 ensures that you,
as Americans,

are free to travel
from state to state,

free to buy property
in any state

and free to pursue happiness
in every state.

Here's a fascinating story
about interstate travel.

The lack of women during my
great-great-grandmother's time

was considered such a big
problem in Washington State

that in 1865,
a man named Asa Mercer

cooked up a scheme to deliver
500 women to Seattle.

He went back east
to Lowell, Massachusetts,

and he told the women there,

many of whom
had been working in factories

since they were seven years old,

that Seattle was a paradise
for ladies.

It was a place they could live
free and independent lives,

become writers,
teachers, milliners.

Then he went back to Seattle
and told the men there

if they gave him 300 bucks,
he could guarantee them a wife.

Now, even with all this money
from the men,

Mercer could not afford a boat,
so he wrote to Lincoln.

He asked for an old military
ship to transport the women.

Lincoln did not write back.
It was 1865. He was busy.

-So, Mercer hopped a train,

took it all the way to D.C.
to talk to Lincoln in person

only to arrive and discover

the capital
was wreathed in black

because Lincoln
had just been assassinated.

Now, you'd think this would've
stopped Mercer's plan,

-but no, no, no, no.

Instead, he went
to Ulysses S. Grant

and he said
he had talked to Lincoln--

-like, a while back--

and that Lincoln had promised
him this boat for the women

and, yes,
he was sad about Lincoln,

but the boat?

Grant said, "Take it."

A few days into this journey,

the ship's crew started
to spread rumors on board

that Seattle was not
a paradise for ladies.

The men there were loggers,
they were drunks,

they beat up their wives.

So, when the ship reached Chile,

15 women demanded
to get off the boat.

Mercer said, sure, they
could deboard in the morning.

And then,
in the middle of the night,

he pulled up anchor,
effectively kidnapping them.

My-my-my-my
great-great-grandmother Theresa

was purchased for $75,

when my great-great grandfather
ordered her

-from The Matrimonial Times--
Okay. -

-Clause 3. -Just hold on.
Hold on. I just-- Hold on.

Ever since I've been
making this, I just--

I've been wondering about
my great-great-grandma Theresa.

She died of melancholia.
That was her official diagnosis.

"Melancholia. Age 36.
Western State Mental Hospital."

I also grew up believing

that all the women in my family
on my mom's side

inherited chemical depression

from Theresa
and her melancholia.

We, uh-- we all take various
forms of medication for it.

-They're working.

We also all have
the same way of crying--

this, like, very loud,
melodramatic way of crying

that I like to call
"Greek Tragedy Crying."

It's where,
no matter what happens to you,

you just-- you howl
and you wail as if, uh, uh...

well, as if-- as if you've
just killed your own children

because your husband
betrayed you.

And it sounds kind of like this.

I lost so many boyfriends
that way.

One of my boyfriends--

actually, the boyfriend
who stayed, the one I married--

he explained to me
that the-- that the crying

just felt really aggressive,
you know?

That it kind of felt like
I was crying right at him.

Anyway, uh,

since I've been making this,
I just--

I've been wondering
about the diagnosis.

There are no records of what
Theresa's daily life was like,

but it seems like
it must have been so hard,

because it certainly was
for other women.

Actually, these are
some headlines I found

in the Cowlitz County Newspaper.

This was her hometown newspaper.

These headlines
all happened in one week.

"Napavine Man
Shoots Wife in Back."

"Husband Stomps Wife's Face
with Spiked Logging Boots."

"Jealous Husband Ties Woman
to Bed for Three Days."

And this one. "B. Phelps ran
into her daughter's apartment

"to find her son-in-law
in the act

"of shooting
her fleeing daughter.

"'Get out of here,' he said.

-'Everything here belongs
to me.'" -

Clause 3.

"Nor shall any state
deprive any person

of life, liberty or property
without due process of law."

Your time begins now.

Clause 3...

is one of the most miraculous
in our entire Constitution.

We stole it
from the Magna Carta.

It ensures that the government
cannot lock you up,

take your stuff or kill you
without a good reason.

It is also the heart of
the 1973 Supreme Court decision

Roe v. Wade,

a case that is
all about penumbras.

With the help of
Justice William O. Douglas's

beautiful penumbra metaphor,

Justice Harry Blackmun used
the Ninth Amendment

to shine a light
into the other amendments.

And he found there, in
the shadows of the Constitution,

the right to privacy,

and he argued
that this gave a woman

the right to decide
what to do with her own body.

Uh, well, technically,

he argued that a doctor and his
patient have a right to privacy

so that he can decide
what to do with her body.

This was a very special moment

for the Ninth
and Fourteenth Amendments.

They, uh, they came together

in a-a "Wonder Twin powers,
activate" kind of way

to protect
a woman's right to choose.

Of course, depending on
your view, gentlemen,

you may consider this
an unholy alliance.

My view, which I do
feel obligated to share,

even if it endangers
my scholarship money,

is I support
a woman's right to choose.

-Thank you.

-Thank you so much.
-All right!

-All right!
-I-I would also like to say

it is a choice
I would never make personally.

I-I said that.

No, I really said that
in the contest.

And then, uh--
and then, six years later,

I got pregnant,
so that was confusing.

I didn't know what to do.

I was 21.
I just graduated college.

I, um...
I was back in Wenatchee,

living in my parents' basement.

I was helping my dad
paint houses for the summer,

because I was saving up money
to move to Siberia

to teach English
for one million rubles a month.

I decided to take
a pregnancy test.

I was just a couple days late
on my period,

and I was just-- I was praying

it was one of those
hysterical pregnancies

like ladies in soap operas get.

But I could not go
to Planned Parenthood

because my mom's best friend
worked there,

and I couldn't go to a drugstore

because someone might see me
and tell my parents.

So I looked in the phone book.
I found this listing.

It said, "Free Pregnancy
Testing. Quick. Confidential."

Sir, I'm gonna keep going.

-I went downtown.

I found this unmarked building.

I snuck in the back door.

And the first thing I saw
when I walked inside

is that the walls were covered
with pictures of fetuses.

There was this huge poster
that said,

"Adoption is
a beautiful choice,"

and then this sign that said,
"Birthright."

I panicked. I, uh...

I wanted to run out
the back door.

But in case you can't tell
by this point in the show,

I was raised to be
just psychotically polite.

So, when Marcy,
the receptionist, said,

"We're so glad you're here,"

I just smiled and said,
"Me, too!"

And then she and I proceeded
to have, like...

-like, a nice-off.

She took my hand.

She said,
"Heidi, if you are pregnant,

will this be good news
or bad news?"

And, uh, I started to cry,
loudly, but,

because I didn't want
to let Marcy down,

I said... :
"Good. Really good news!"

And she said, "Yay!"--

even though she must have known
I was lying--

and then she hugged me.

She hugged me,
and I sobbed into her shoulder.

And, uh...

And she smelled so good.

She smelled just like
my Grandma Betty, like...

like White Shoulders perfume

that has been left out
in the sun way too long.

Uh, you might remember
my town is, uh, conservative.

It, uh-- it was
an abortion-free zone.

You, uh--
you actually had to drive

three hours west to Seattle,

five hours east to Spokane
to get an abortion.

I decided I wanted to go eight
hours south to Eugene, Oregon,

because there is a clinic there

called the Feminist Women's
Health Collective,

run by lesbians,

which is clearly the safest
possible place on the planet

to get an abortion.

And that is what I wanted.
I wanted an abortion.

I knew it was my right.

I knew it was legal.

I knew it had been legal

for most of the history
of this country.

Actually, because I'd been able
to go to college,

I knew abortion
had only become a crime

in the late 19th century,

right before the government
started forcibly sterilizing

women of color
and indigenous women.

And I knew that
when abortion became illegal,

it didn't become rare;
it only became deadly.

I knew that, uh...

that Gloria Steinem
had had an abortion

and Billie Jean King
and Susan Sontag.

I, uh... I-I knew
that Penny from Dirty Dancing

had had an abortion.

And I knew that when
Jennifer Grey asked her dad,

Jerry Orbach,
to save Penny's life

after her back-alley abortion
almost killed her,

I knew she was asking a lot
of her father,

because this was the 1960s

and Jerry Orbach
could have been arrested

for getting anywhere near
an abortion.

And I knew that this is how
we were supposed to understand

that Jerry Orbach was a good man

and also how we knew
that Jennifer Grey

and Patrick Swayze's love
was real!

That is everything
that was going through my head

while Marcy and I were hugging.

I just-- I didn't say
any of that to her though.

I didn't say anything. I, uh...

She gave me
my positive pregnancy test.

I said, uh, "Thank you."

And then I headed for the door.
She followed me.

She gave me this pamphlet
that explained,

if I had an abortion,

I would probably become
suicidal and barren

and maybe go to hell.

And then she tucked in the tag
at the back of my dress

and she said,
"I can't help myself.

Always a mother."

I, uh... I also--

I didn't tell... my mother
what I was really doing.

I have no idea why.

I didn't tell her
I was pregnant.

Which is weird,
because my mom's a feminist.

She's pro-choice.

She, uh, she marched
for the Equal Rights Amendment

and cried when it didn't pass.

She even had, uh, like,
one of those, like,

white-lady feminist
theater troupes that does...

I don't know, like, puppet shows
of "The Yellow Wallpaper."

-Uh...

But, for some reason,
I just-- I couldn't tell her.

In fact, I didn't tell anyone
for 25 years,

until I started performing
this show.

And then all my friends
came to the show

and told me
about their abortions

and their mothers
came to the show

and told me about
their abortions, which, uh--

which were
so much more harrowing.

Actually,
I told one other person.

I-I told the guy.
I-I told Jean.

Jean was so chivalrous.

He offered to pay.

Uh, for half of it.

-And, uh...

he even suggested
that we drive down Highway 101

and camp on the beaches,
make some kind of--

kind of vacation out of it.

-Yeah, ew, right? Thank you.

-Thank you!

That is how I felt!

Look, I just... I want to say,
I don't have to say this,

but I was on birth control
when I got pregnant.

I had been on the pill
since I was 15 years old.

My friend Renee and I
snuck in the back door

of Planned Parenthood before
my mom's friend worked there.

Neither of us was
having sex yet, but we just...

you know, we wanted to be
on birth control just in case.

Just in case...
we were in a hot tub,

and-and the sperm swam up
and attacked us.

Or, you know,
in case of a real attack.

I remember
it was such a nice day.

We, uh, we went to McDonald's,

and we took our first pills
with chocolate shakes,

and I could kind of feel it
working right away, you know?

-Like, I felt very womanly.

Like, something kind of
came alive inside of me.

What I didn't know at the time

is that birth control
had only been legal

for all women in this country
for 15 years.

I mean, I was 15,
so I thought it had been legal

since, like, the dawn of time,
but, no, no.

In 1965, this incredible woman,
Estelle Griswold,

got herself arrested
for giving out birth control

to poor women at her
Connecticut Planned Parenthood.

She faced a year in prison,

took her case all the way to
the Supreme Court, and this...

this is when
William O. Douglas brought out

his beautiful penumbra metaphor.

This is when he said,
"One thing our Constitution

"surely guarantees
is the right to privacy,

"and that this allows
a woman to put in an IUD

"as long as she is married
and as long

as her husband says
that it is okay."

This was a such a scary moment
for William O. Douglas.

No, he-he really put himself
on the line for us.

Because the truth is nobody
understands the Ninth Amendment.

-Nobody, except me at 15.

Justice Scalia said

he didn't even remember
studying it law school.

Scalia said he couldn't tell you
what the Ninth Amendment meant

if his life depended on it.

Which I guess his didn't!

So they had to dig up
this amendment nobody uses,

nobody understands, because
there just was no other way

to deal with a female body,
because our bodies,

our bodies
had just been left out

of this document
from the beginning.

They were just like,
"We don't... we don't know

what to do
with this kind of a body."

That is my founders impression.
Thank you.

So they dug up this amendment
nobody uses,

because they wanted
to make birth control legal.

They wanted to, because,
well, because I found out

that William O. Douglas--

who was my hero
when I was 15 years old--

Justice William O. Douglas
was 67,

and he was having an affair with
a 22-year-old college student.

And... and it turns out
that three other justices

may have been having sex
with young women, as well.

So, I'm thinking... Right?

They-they needed to find a way

to get the birth control
flowing!

-I would just...

I would love to play you
a little snippet

of the actual
Supreme Court argument,

because it is trenchant.

Uh, it's fascinating.

Oh, it's... it's 1965.

There will not be a woman
on this court

until Sandra Day O'Connor
arrives in 1981.

Here are nine men deciding
the fate of birth control,

four of whom are cheating
on their wives.

Now that I've interrupted you,

uh, you've told us
that in Connecticut

the sale of, uh, these devices
is, uh, not molested

because they're sold
for the prevention of disease.

Is this, uh, true about

all of these devices
that are covered, uh,

that each of them has
the potential dual function

of acting
in a contraceptive capacity

and as a prevention of disease?

It's probably only true

with respect to some,
but some get by

under the term "feminine
hygiene," and, uh, others, uh...

Uh...

-uh, I-I...

I just don't know about, uh,

but, uh...
uh...

They are... they are,
uh, all sold

in Connecticut, uh, drugstores
on one theory or another.

Is there
anything in the record to...

to indicate, uh,

-uh,

the, uh, stem of the birth rate
in Connecticut

vis-à-vis the states
that don't have such laws?

It's, like, four hours of that.

Birth control became legal

for single women
in this country in 1972,

uh, which is the year after
my mom got pregnant with me.

This is what I was thinking
about when my mom drove me

to Seattle to meet Jean
to go down for an abortion.

I was thinking about the fact

that she was my age
when she had me,

that she wanted to become
an actor and a writer

and move to New York City,
which is, of course,

what I'm gonna do,
but I don't know that yet.

And as soon as
I have that thought,

I'm overcome by
this horrible wave of nausea.

I ask her to pull the car over,
I open the door,

I puke on the side of the road,

and when I sit back up,
I can tell that she knows.

And I'm just... I'm waiting for
her to tell me that it's okay,

that, uh, that it's my body,

and like she taught me,
this is my decision.

But when I look at my mom, she's
got this wild look in her eyes.

And then she starts
hyperventilating.

She's basically having
some kind of panic attack.

And all of a sudden, she shouts,
"You better not be pregnant!"

And I shout, "I'm not pregnant!"

-Clause 4.

"No state shall deny to any
person within its jurisdiction

the equal protection
of the laws."

Clause 4 is even more
miraculous than Clause 3.

It is
the Equal Protection Clause.

It ensures that we cannot
be discriminated against

on the basis
of race, sex, religion,

immigration status.

It, uh, it actually uses the
word "person," not "citizen,"

which means if you are
an undocumented immigrant,

you must be given all
the protections of Clause 3,

the Due Process Clause.

You cannot be locked up
without a fair trial.

You cannot have anything
or-or anyone seized from you.

I, uh...

I just... I've been talking
about this, uh...

this clause for such
a long time, over ten years,

and, uh, I find it
harder and harder

to talk about every day.

Uh, although to be honest,

it wasn't that easy
ten years ago, either.

Uh, I also... I do have, um...

I have a personal connection
to the Equal Protection Clause.

I just... I never would have
spoken about it at 15.

I, uh... I didn't tell anyone.

And whenever I get
to this part, I...

I just... I have this desire
to protect my 15-year-old self

from speaking about it.

Uh... actually, you know what?
I'm gonna, um...

I'm gonna just talk about
the Equal Protection Clause,

uh, as myself, now.
I'm gonna... I'm...

In fact, I'm just... I'm gonna
be myself now all the time now.

-So...

I'm gonna be, uh, an adult woman
in my very late 40s.

-Hi.

Also, my face just fucking
hurts from smiling like that.

I'm sorry, sir.

I actually have no idea what
your purpose is here anymore.

Uh...

The clause is miraculous.

It, uh... it really is.

People have used it to do
so much good in this country.

Uh, the Equal Protection Clause
was used...

It was actually the heart
of the civil rights movement.

Decades after this contest,
uh, it will be used,

along with
the Due Process Clause,

to make
marriage equality possible.

This clause was used to win
all sorts of rights

for working women, including
the right to equal pay,

the right to be free
from sexual harassment.

-Uh...

A few years before
this contest in 1983,

lawyers tried to use this clause
to address the problem

of physical and sexual violence
toward women,

with the idea
that you can't possibly

be equal in this country
if you are subject

to epidemic levels of violence.

Uh, as you may already know,
four women are murdered

every day in this country
by a male partner.

It, uh, it was
actually three women

when I started performing
a year ago.

It's gone up.

One in three American women
are sexually assaulted

during their lifetime.

Uh... one in five--

I'm sorry, yes.

Uh, one in three American women

are sexually assaulted
during their lifetime.

One in five American women are
raped during their lifetime.

Uh, a study came out recently
that said the United States

was one of the ten most
dangerous countries

in the world for women.

That's physical
and sexual violence,

sex trafficking, uh,
lack of access to health care,

lack of access
to reproductive care,

death in childbirth, uh,
especially for Black women,

gun violence.

Uh, on a personal note,

ten million American women
live in violent households.

My mom lived
in a house like this.

So did my Grandma Betty

and, uh, probably
my great-great-grandma Theresa,

though, uh, I don't... I don't
have any evidence for that

except for maybe, maybe the fact
that she died of melancholia

at age 36.

Uh, will you hand me
my Grandma Betty index cards?

I, uh, I just...
I want to tell you a little bit

about my Grandma Betty
and the Equal Protection Clause.

I actually...
I know these stories very well.

I prefer to read them.

"My, uh...

"my Grandma Betty married
my grandpa when she was 19.

"My grandpa was what we call
in my family a good man,

"which meant that he didn't
beat up his wife and kids.

"He was a six-foot-six logger

"who built the one-bedroom house
they lived in

"with his bare hands.

"Legend has it
that he chopped down the trees

"to build this house,

"and then he dragged
the lumber up

"from the base
of Mount St. Helens on his back

like a horse."

I, uh, I actually have
never understood

that part of the story,
because he had a truck.

"Grandma Betty
and her good husband

"had two kids when my grandma
got pregnant with my mom.

"One day, she was feeling antsy.

"She wanted to go
to the Cowlitz County Fair.

"My grandpa took
an extra logging shift

"to pay for the tickets.

"He and his partner Ray
were sawing

"a 150-foot evergreen tree.

"They misjudged
the trajectory of the tree

"and it fell on my grandpa,
killing him.

"My mom was born while
my grandma was still grieving.

"My widowed Grandma Betty
supported her three kids

"by working as a waitress
at the local diner.

"A man named Dick came in often.

Dick was a barber.
He was very good-looking."

My grandma loved
good-looking men.

-As do I.

"My, uh, my Grandma Betty
married Dick pretty quickly.

"Pretty quickly,
he started to beat her up.

He beat up her kids."

They had
three more kids together.

He beat them up, too.

"When my mom's sister turned 16,
my grandma's husband raped her.

"My aunt got pregnant.
She went away to have the baby.

"He raped her again.
She went away again.

"She came back home after
giving birth to a second child

and graduated
at the top of her class."

I, uh, I just want to say,

all of these kids grew up
to be pretty happy.

They did, miraculously.

They, uh, they all have
families that they love

and jobs-jobs that, like
most of us, they kind of like.

Uh, none of them
perpetuated the abuse

that had been inflicted on them.

I realize it is not
great storytelling

to skip to the end like this,
but I actually don't want you

to have to worry about them
for the rest of the play.

-They are okay.

Like so many people
in this country

who go through similar things,
uh, they are mostly okay.

I, uh... I was
so pissed off at my mom

when she told me that story.

She, uh, she told me
when I was 15, and I remember,

I was just,
I was furious with her

because I was a deeply
heterosexual 15-year-old girl.

I just, I really wanted to make
out with boys all the time.

I-I did not want to think
that they could be violent

or they could be rapists.

Uh, I mean,
they could be troubled.

-I loved it when
they were troubled. -

They could be, like-like,
a down-and-out dance instructor

-at a Catskills resort.

But, uh, the thing
I remember saying to my mom is,

"Why didn't Grandma Betty just
take all of you and run away?"

And, uh, my mom
had no answer for me.

She went in her room,
she shut the door,

she wouldn't come out.

Uh, but my dad took me aside
and he explained, um,

that Grandma Betty couldn't
run away because she was sick,

because she had this thing
that women get

called
"battered woman syndrome."

Which, uh-- I remembered
I was so confused by that.

Like, "Oh, no,
how do you catch that?"

And, uh, also, if you ever met
my Grandma Betty,

you would know this was
an absurd way to describe her.

She, uh, she was
almost six feet tall.

She had these gigantic muscles,
this wild black hair.

Beautiful.

In, uh, in addition to waitress,
her other job was log runner.

That is where you stand
on a bunch of logs

in a raging river, and then
you take this giant stick,

and all day long, you just,
you just push the logs

down the river till they...

Actually, I don't know
what happens to the logs.

This is...

This is my favorite thing
to do in the whole show.

Also, he can't stop me 'cause
I didn't write anything for him.

Not my grandma's dream job,
by the way, log runner.

What she wanted to be
from the time

she was a little girl
was a painter.

And she actually taught herself
to paint by copying Picasso,

who was her favorite,
so her little one-bedroom house

was filled with
all of these, just,

shitty-looking
Picasso reproductions.

And when I was a little girl,

I thought
they were her paintings.

I think I was in high school
before I realized that Picasso,

and not my Grandma Betty,
had invented The Weeping Woman.

I, uh, whenever I talk
about the things

that the women in my family
wanted to be, all this, um...

all this crazy stuff
happens in my body.

Like, uh, I've had this pain
in my back for, like, a year,

and, uh, my throat
gets really tight.

Like, I can't get
my voice out, and I, uh...

I, uh, I have this painting
of my grandma's up in my house.

And I think, I think
maybe she was a good painter;

she just, she never painted
anything that was hers.

It's funny, actually, Jean and I
went to see my Grandma Betty

on the way to get my abortion.

And I remember I wanted
to tell her what I was doing

'cause I thought
she might be happy for me.

My, uh, my Great-Grandma
Breckyn had 16 children.

My Grandma Betty
had six children

and a violent husband.

I just, I thought she might
be excited that I was

getting to do something
different with my life.

But, uh, after the way
my mom reacted, I just...

I remember I almost told her.

She, uh, she made these

beautiful popovers
for breakfast.

I sat down at the table
and I almost said,

"Grandma Betty, I'm pregnant."

And instead, I said,
"Grandma Betty, I miss George."

Which is-- I actually have
no idea why I said that.

George was this sock monkey
that she sewed for me

-when I was three years old.

I loved this sock monkey
to death.

I mean, I murdered him
with my love.

He was missing an eye;
he was missing a tail.

Eventually, like,
I got a little shoebox

and made a monkey coffin
for him.

And I remember telling
my Grandma Betty that I wished

that I could take George the
sock monkey with me to Siberia.

And my grandma just went, "Mm!"

'cause she was
very unsentimental.

But the next Christmas,
she sewed me

a brand-new sock monkey
and she sent him

all the way to Russia,
and I named this new sock monkey

-George the Second.

And then when I turned 40,
I, uh, I decided

George the Second was lonely
and needed some kind of friend.

So I bought this tiny little
red-and-white-striped monkey

that I named
George the Second's Friend.

And to this day...

I am married.

To this day,
George the Second's Friend

is the most important person
in my life.

I bet you're wondering
how any of this relates

to the Equal Protection Clause.

In spite of how it feels,

and apparently
what some people think,

this play is
so carefully constructed.

-It's not my fault if you can't
see the structures. -

In, uh, in 2005,

the Fourteenth Amendment
was invoked

in a case called
Castle Rock v. Gonzales.

"Jessica Gonzales had received
a restraining order

"against her violent husband.

"A month later, he kidnapped
their three daughters.

"Jessica, terrified, called
the police seven times for help

"and went to the station twice
in person

"to show them
the restraining order

"and beg them
to look for her daughters.

"The police not only
refused to help her,

"they asked her
to stop bothering them.

"By morning, Mr. Gonzales
had legally purchased

"a semiautomatic weapon
while their daughters

"waited in the car
and then killed them.

"Jessica Gonzales--

"who now goes by
the name Lenahan--

"Jessica Lenahan
very bravely sued

"the Castle Rock
Police Department

"for failing to show up
to protect her and her kids.

"The state of Colorado
had recently passed a law

"that required police
to arrest a person

"who had violated
a protective order.

"So Jessica sued and she won.

"Then the city appealed,
took the case all the way

"to the Supreme Court,
and this court,

"led by Antonin Scalia,

"overturned her case,
killed the Colorado law,

"and gutted
the Violence Against Women Act

"by ruling that
the police did not have

"a constitutional obligation

to protect Jessica Lenahan
or her daughters."

I, uh, I just, I listened to
this case so many times, uh...

And the thing I notice when
I hear the justices speak...

The thing I notice is that
they spend very little time

talking about Jessica Lenahan
as a human being.

They don't talk about
her daughters--

Rebecca, who was ten,

Katheryn, who was eight,
Leslie, who was seven.

Instead, they spend
a very long time

arguing about the word "shall."

As in the phrase
"the police shall enforce

a restraining order."

And, look, I understand,
even as a layperson,

that precise language
is crucial in law.

But I find the balance
of these two things...

At one point, Justice Scalia
and Justice Breyer

got in this little argument
about whether either of them

even understood
what the word "shall" meant.

Uh, Terri, can you...?

Wait, wait, I-I thought we were

just talking here
about state law

as to whether "shall"
means "shall."

Do you think that
that it's a matter of state law

whether-whether,
if it does mean "shall,"

it creates a property interest
for purposes

of the federal, uh,
Constitution?

No, Justice Scalia, I don't.

Suppose
"shall" does mean "shall."

Fine. But you might have
a statute that says,

"The fire department
shall respond to fires.

"The police department
shall respond to crimes.

The Army shall respond
to, uh, uh, attacks."

Even the word "shall"
doesn't necessarily mean...

Scalia ultimately decided that
"shall" did not mean "must,"

Which, uh, which I actually
find very confusing

because Scalia
was a devout Catholic.

Some constitutional scholars
have called this decision

the death of the Fourteenth
Amendment for women.

It basically shuts down
the possibility to look

to our federal government,
to our Constitution,

for protection from
physical and sexual violence.

It's most devastating
for women of color,

for trans women,

for nonbinary
and binary trans folx,

for women with disabilities,
for indigenous women--

who suffer the most violence
in this country.

And right now, it's terrible.

It's actually killing
immigrant women

and their children
who are fleeing violence.

I, uh, I just--

I really, really wanted
to understand why.

How they decided this.

I just... Maybe because
of my own family history

of this kind of violence,

I just, I needed
to make sense of it.

So, I talked to several
constitutional scholars,

and this is what I learned.

I learned about
two kinds of rights:

negative rights
and positive rights.

Negative rights protect us from
the government taking our stuff,

locking us up, killing us.

Positive rights
are active rights.

They are things the government
must do or provide.

They include things like...
like the right to a fair trial,

to an attorney,

in some countries,
the right to health care.

Our Constitution, primarily,
with some exceptions,

is a negative rights document.

It was designed
to protect the men

who made it and their property--

their property
that was sometimes people--

from the government,
which is in part

how they came to decide
that Jessica Lenahan

was not entitled

to any active or positive
protection from the police.

I also learned

that if the Equal Rights
Amendment had been ratified,

she might have been entitled
to protection under that.

And I understood
for the first time

why my mom cried
when that didn't pass.

So, what I'm trying
to understand right now

is what does it mean
if this Constitution

will not protect us
from the violence of men?

And I don't want to vilify men.
I don't-- I love men.

I really do.

-I fucking love you.

I'm the daughter of a father.

But the facts,
the facts are so extreme.

They really--
I had no idea, truly.

I did-- I thought
it would be interesting

to take the prompt
of this contest seriously,

to-to find a personal connection

between my life
and this Constitution,

and then I learned
that this century,

the 21st century,
more American women

have been killed
by their male partners

than Americans
have died in wars,

including 9/11.

That, uh...

That is not the number of women

who have been killed
by men in this country.

That is only the number
of women who have been killed

by the men
who supposedly love them.

Which is...

I just, I-I...

find the statistic
so overwhelming, I...

I have to forget about it
just to get through my day.

Except, I think you can't
forget about it, right?

I think...

...even if you don't know
the statistic,

the truth of that
is there all the time.

The truth of that...

...rampant violence
against women's bodies

is underneath everything
all the time...

...humming.

When I was 17,

I used the money from
your contest to go to college.

I, uh, I registered prelaw.

I also auditioned
for the fall play Red Noses.

It was about a theater troupe
in the Middle Ages

trying to survive the plague.

I played a one-legged
tap dancer who dies.

On, uh, on the first day
of rehearsal, this senior boy

asked me if I wanted
a ride home, and I said sure,

and then, uh, as soon as we got
to my dorm, he parked the car.

He said, "Oh, my God,
I've been waiting to kiss you

for so long,"
which I thought was weird

'cause we'd known each other
three hours.

But he was cute,
so I kissed him,

and then suddenly,
he just took off my pants.

And, uh...

You all, I was so smart
when I was 17.

I-I was way smarter
than I am now.

Plus, I had read everything,
I thought.

I-I had read Gloria Steinem
and bell hooks and Audre Lord.

I-I was taking
advanced feminist studies.

And yet I still decided to go
ahead and have sex with this guy

because it seemed like
the polite thing to do.

I think.

Now, I don't know, though.

Uh, I don't know, because, uh,

when I remember
being in the car,

I remember how dark
it was outside.

I remember looking around. Uh...

There was nobody on the street.

My dorm was way, way out
on the edge of campus.

And I remember
having this sick feeling

in the pit of my stomach,

and then this fleeting thought,

so quick, I almost
can't put it into language.

But if I had to say it out loud,
it would sound like:

"stay alive."

Which is...

It's, uh, it's really strange,
because this guy

would not have hurt me.

He wouldn't.
I know that he wouldn't.

We're friends to this day.

I mean, we're
Facebook friends, but...

I'm 99% sure
he would not have hurt me,

so why did I feel like
my life was in danger?

Can you read
those Hammurabi index cards?

The first law pertaining
to domestic violence

comes from Hammurabi in 1800 BC.

It decreed that a husband
could inflict punishment

on any member of his household
for any reason.

The Roman code of pater familias

said a man could
kill his wife for adultery

or for walking outside
without her face covered.

In Renaissance France,
when it became clear

that too many women and children
were being beaten to death

and it was hurting the economy,
men were restricted

to blows
that did not leave marks.

In 18th-century England,
the law said that a man

could only hit his wife
with a whip or stick

no thicker than his thumb.

Although many people think
this is where the phrase

"rule of thumb" originated,
that's not actually true.

Ooh, that thing I said,
about the male-to-female ratio

in Washington State
being nine to one?

Not true.

That is what my history teacher
Mr. Berger taught me.

There were thousands
and thousands of women

in Washington State, of course.

The women of the Salish tribes,
the Wenatchi tribes.

And apparently,
some of these women

had been marrying
white men for a hundred years,

and according
to these women's journals,

these marriages
were actually pretty good.

Because these tribes
were egalitarian.

Women could be priests.
They could be translators.

They could be boat makers.

Then Washington became a state,
was under the umbrella

of the Constitution
that I worshipped,

which meant
that indigenous women

were no longer
considered people,

the marriages became illegal,

and they brought in
a bunch of white women

like my
Great-Great-Grandmother Theresa.

-Go ahead.

In 1910, the U.S. Supreme Court
ruled that a wife

could not press assault charges
against a husband

because it would
open the doors of the courts

to accusations of all sorts
of one spouse against the other.

In 1977,
the California Penal Code stated

that wives charging husbands
with criminal assault

must suffer more injuries
than commonly needed

for charges of battery.

In 2005, the Supreme Court
ruled that Jessica Lenahan

could not sue the
Castle Rock Police Department

for failing to show up
to protect her and her children.

In 2014, the Inter-American
Commission on Human Rights ruled

that the United States
violated the human rights

-of Jessica Lenahan and her
daughters. -Thank you, Mike.

-Uh, everybody, this is Mike.

He's, uh-- yeah, he's wonderful.

He's a wonderful person,
wonderful actor.

And, uh, when I realized
I was gonna have to talk about

so much violence
up here onstage,

I just, I really wanted
some positive male energy

up here with me.

I'm representing
a real person from Heidi's life,

Mel Yonkin,
who was a-a Legionnaire.

He fought in World War II.

He was an incredibly sweet man
that would travel

around the country
with Heidi and her family,

going from contest to contest.

He always told her
how proud he was of her,

and-and when she won,
he would get kind of misty,

pretend he had a cold.

I was very excited
when Heidi asked me

to be a part of the show,
although I did think

it was kind of
a serious responsibility

-to be representing "positive
male energy." -

I feel like I spent
many years sort of refusing

to be boxed in gender-wise.

I guess I kind of
thought of myself

as having gender-neutral energy.

Which, given that
I always present as male,

sometimes that seems a little...
irresponsibly privileged to me.

Also, I would like to be able
to report that I also had

a crush on Patrick Swayze when
I was younger like Heidi did.

But the truth is I was kind of
more into Mel Gibson.

Yeah. No, I...

I just, I just really
wanted to be him

in-in the movie The Road
Warrior, and after it came out,

I was always talking
to my friends about,

"Oh, I want to dye a little tuft

of my hair blond over my ear,"

like Mel had in the movie.

And I thought I had
a hilarious Australian accent,

but, I mean, you just heard it;
it's a Cockney accent.

Which is interesting
because my dad actually

is a British
working-class immigrant,

but he's not a Cockney.

He's from Wales and Yorkshire,

which are two
totally different accents.

I won't be doing them
for you now.

-You are welcome.

Um, my dad is this
incredibly charming guy.

All my friends are really crazy
about him, and I remember

being a kid, and both
kind of admiring his, like,

masculine charisma, and also
knowing that something about it

was, like, a little bit put on.

For example, he went
through a CB radio phase.

I was in high school, we were
driving across country together,

but we were
in two different cars,

and so he wanted us
to stay in touch via CB radios.

And so, he would say stuff
like, "Heads up, Mike,

we're gonna take
a left at the next exit."

And I would say
stuff like, "Dad,

when are we gonna get
a bathroom break?"

And once, another voice broke in

and said,
"Couple queers on the line."

-Like, a trucker or somebody,

like, a deep male voice, like,
deeper than mine or my dad's.

There was a terrible pause,
like, a pit in my stomach.

Was my dad lisping
inadvertently?

Or was I or something?

And then my dad responded,
"And a faggot listening in."

So, all things considered,
good save? Or...

But I must not have been out
to my dad at that point.

There's no way he would use
that kind of language

if he'd known
I was gay back then.

I mean, I didn't really know
I was gay back then.

Maybe I thought my sexual
orientation was "nerd."

Couple years after that,
I was in college,

and I was gonna drive down
from Maine to Boston

to live with my girlfriend--

I was still dating women
at the time--

and I was wearing a YSL
slate-blue suit vest as a shirt,

tight cotton cutoffs

with these big-big red, white
and blue stripes on them,

and brown ankle boots
with these fuzzy pink socks

kind of like rolled up,
peeking out the top.

And so, my dad saw me
as I was headed out the door

and he says,
"You look ridiculous.

You cannot wear this!"

And I know he was
only trying to protect me,

but he may also
have had a point,

because a couple years
after that,

I was first living here
in New York City,

I was with four of my friends,

we were walking from
the Tunnel Bar to another bar

that was literally just called
The Bar, that was down

in the East Village,
like, right off the F train,

and I was wearing black nylon
Patricia Field hot pants

with these little red velvet
polka dots on them.

And we passed
a group of teenagers,

and one of them
punched me in the face.

As I've gotten older,
I've become more comfortable

just kind of...

presenting as "basic male."

It feels...

...I don't know, more me.

I think.

Couple years ago,
I was in Baltimore

and I was at a sports bar
called Pickles Pub.

And there was a guy at the bar.

He was, like,
six-foot-two, 230 pounds,

like, a big, big bald white guy.

And behind the bar was a woman
and she was running around

taking everybody's orders.

And so, the guy turns to me
and he goes,

"Don't you want to fuck her?"

And there was a weird pause

where I didn't really know
how to respond to that.

I mean, was he really asking me?

Was he testing me
to find out if I was gay?

Was he capable of violence?

Was the woman behind the bar
feeling like how you felt

in the car with that guy
that time?

This guy was, like, a beast
physically, but I also had

this kind of weird sympathy
for him.

So, I slapped him on the back
and I said, "Good luck, man,"

and I walked out of the bar.

I would love it now
if all this could go away, too.

Uh, the contest, all of this.

I, uh, I would love to have

one of those incredible
Broadway set changes now.

Uh, since it's not
that kind of play,

uh, maybe we could
all just imagine

that we're someplace else.

Maybe we could imagine
something else.

And you are welcome
to be yourselves again.

If you haven't already done
that, this is a perfect time.

You are, uh, you are
so welcome to be yourself.

My mom and my aunt,
uh, are the ones

who told the police
about their stepfather,

because my Grandma Betty
was too scared to do it.

My, uh, my mom and my aunt
had been born

a little further out
of the penumbra than my grandma.

They were born
a little over 20 years

after women got
the right to vote.

Also, my mom had
this woman teacher

who took her aside, told her
something else was possible,

and also taught her this newly
fashionable word, "feminist."

When, uh, when my mom's
stepfather found out

they had talked to the police,
uh, he became enraged.

He got his constitutionally
protected gun,

and he threatened
to kill his whole family.

And my Grandma Betty
finally decided,

in spite of the fact
that she'd inherited

the pretty logical belief
that her life

and her kids' lives did not
matter in the eyes of the law,

in spite of that, she decided
she had to do something.

So she finally gathered all
her kids together and ran away.

The, uh, the police
showed up for my family.

It was a small town.

They were white.

They, uh... they arrested
my mom's stepfather,

but my Grandma Betty
was too terrified

to testify against him,
so, uh, my mom did that, too,

in support of her sister,
at age 15.

And then my Grandma Betty
said that she was lying.

She was not lying.

Uh, her stepfather was sentenced
to 30 years in prison.

He served two.

But, uh, the fact
that he went to prison at all

is probably why I get
to be here right now,

telling you these stories.

Sometimes, uh,
when I think about how brave

my mom and my aunt were
as teenage girls,

I just-- I mean, it gives me
such respect for them.

It makes me want
to do more, be braver.

But also, it also
makes me think about the fact

that progress
doesn't only move one way.

I just, I feel so excited
by young people lately.

I really do.

I feel like you all
are so much braver

than I remember being
at your age,

you have more compassion,
you certainly have

a more sophisticated
understanding of gender.

Sometimes, I feel like
you're, like you're shining

a light backwards
into the darkness

so I can follow you
into the future.

I, uh, I've actually--
I've struggled my whole life

to forgive my grandma
for not protecting my mom.

I just, I...

I don't know how to forgive her,

because it made
my mom's life so hard.

But, uh, but that's also
really confusing,

because I loved
my grandma so much.

I mean, we all loved her.
My mom loved her.

My aunts and uncles loved her.

And-and the Grandma Betty I knew
is-is not the same woman

who didn't protect her kids.

The grandma I knew
loved us all like crazy.

She gave her whole life
to her kids,

her grandkids,
her great-grandkids.

She would've done
anything for us.

She-she... she sent me that sock
monkey all the way to Siberia.

She-- I know she would have
thrown her body

in front of a truck for me.

So I have no idea
how to make sense

of my two grandmothers.

Except while I've been
making this,

I've realized
how many of us are forced

to be two people
in this culture.

Actually, something I learned
from a younger person,

a younger feminist, that
helps me understand my grandma

just a little bit better,

is they taught me
about this concept

called "covert resistance."

Covert resistance
is the idea that sometimes

seemingly passive,
victim-like behaviors, uh,

pleasing behaviors, are
the sanest and smartest response

to living in a violent culture,
in a culture and a country

that is making it clear
every single day

it has no fucking interest
in protecting you.

In the case of, say,
my grandmother,

covert resistance is
all the invisible, brave actions

a woman takes inside a violent
relationship she can't leave

because she doesn't make
as much money as a man,

because the police might not
show up when she calls,

or depending on
the color of her skin,

they might show up and
something terrible might happen.

Because she doesn't have
decision-making power

over her own fucking body.

Covert resistance
doesn't really fit

into our traditional
narratives of heroism.

It, uh, it involves
a lot of tiny, daily actions.

It involves things like
a woman feeding her kids,

working 12 hours a day for them,

helping them get
a good education,

helping them graduate
at the top of their class.

It can also involve
less positive things,

things like getting sick,
maybe dying of melancholia,

and, uh... not running away.

Because in this country,

the moment a woman
decides to run away

is the moment her life
and her kids' lives

are in the most danger.

Uh, when my Grandma Betty died,
my uncle found $30,000

hidden underneath her mattress
with a note that said

to give $5,000 dollars
to each of her kids.

She had been saving
that money for 50 years.

I, uh, I actually, I took
George the Second's Friend

with me on this business trip
to L.A.

He, uh, he loves the West Coast.

I had him in my bag
wrapped in a stocking cap,

and then it got cold
on the plane, so I took him out,

I put on a hat,

I wrapped him up
in an airplane blanket, uh,

so I wouldn't be,
like, a middle-aged lady

with a stuffed monkey on my lap,
and then I was at baggage claim,

and I realized I had left

George the Second's Friend
on the plane.

And, uh, yeah, my reaction
was much bigger than that.

Actually, I don't even know
how to describe it to you

except to say that
if Meryl Streep and I had been

auditioning for that "dingo
ate my baby" movie together,

-I would have gotten that part.

I was wailing. I was sobbing.

I was, I was doing
the Greek tragedy crying.

I ran up to the counter,
tears streaming down my face.

This woman took one look at me,
she was like,

"Oh, my God, are you okay?"

-And I was like, "No! No! No!

I left something
very valuable on the plane!"

And she was like, "What is it?!"

And I said,
"My child's favorite toy!"

-It gets worse.

-"And my child is very sick!"

No, it's so bad.
It's so hor-- It's horrible.

But she really
leapt into action.

She called up to the gate,
she was like,

"Get that monkey off the plane!"

And then she swiped me
through security,

and I started running, racing,

running faster than
I've ever run in my entire life.

I-I ran past,
like, 14 Starbucks.

-I got to the gate.

I can see
George the Second's Friend

just sitting by
this guy's terminal.

I ran up, tears still
streaming down my face.

This guy paid
no attention to me,

so I was just like, "Fuck it!"

I grabbed
George the Second's Friend,

I ran away from him, I collapsed
to the airport floor,

and I just kept wailing
and wailing and wailing.

And I have no idea
what I was crying about.

I don't know if I was crying
for my Grandma Betty,

or-or because
of chemical depression,

or just because he is such
a cute little monkey,

or maybe because
of centuries and centuries

of fucking inherited trauma,

or maybe, maybe it's
just the appropriate response

to everything right now!

My, uh, my mom,

my mom says
when you are consumed,

when you are paralyzed
with rage and despair,

you have to think of a woman

running along a beach
with a dog.

There's more.

She says if you watch the dog,
it keeps running back and forth

and back and forth,
so it seems like progress is

constantly being undone,
but if you watch the woman,

you can see that
she is moving steadily forward

and forward and forward.

I hope.

I, uh, I actually, I told my mom
about my abortion recently,

because I, uh, well, I had to
'cause I was gonna tell you all.

She was so blasé about it.

She was like, "Okay."

I said, "Mom, why did you
freak out back then?"

She said, "Well, I can be
relaxed about it now

because your life
turned out okay."

She wanted to know
if I was pissed off at her.

I was like, "No, because
my life turned out okay."

I think there were
two mothers with me

in the car that day, too.

I think there's the first
mother, who's a feminist,

who made me do this contest
so I could go to college,

who, along with her sister,
ended the legacy of violent men

in our family by testifying.

And then there's
the second mother,

the mother who had been
terrorized as a child.

The mother whose first memory
at age three was seeing

her stepfather punch
my grandma and thinking,

"Oh, no, this is
what life is like."

And it is what life is like.

The mother who had
inherited centuries

of belief
in her own worthlessness.

No, not belief--
not just belief.

Centuries of laws
that explicitly told her

she was worthless.

For me, though,
that first mother was enough.

She taught me
what my rights were.

I knew which laws
were there to protect me,

and I had laws to protect me
at that time.

I didn't need the second mother

to be there for me
in the moment,

because I had laws.

Which just makes me think
maybe it's not helpful

to think of the Constitution
as a crucible,

in which we're all
battling it out together,

in which, uh, in which
we go in front of a court

of nine people to negotiate
for our basic human rights,

which is what we have been
doing for 230 years.

Because if this is a battle,
or even a negotiation,

then the people
who have always been in power

in this country-- always
dominated, always oppressed--

men...

...white people...

are going to keep
dominating and oppressing.

Maybe, maybe we can think
of the Constitution as like

that first mother,
a Constitution that is obligated

to actively look out
for all of us.

There are so many countries

that have those kinds
of constitutions,

modern, positive rights
constitutions,

that actively
rectify inequality,

that have human rights
enshrined from the beginning.

179 constitutions have
explicit gender protections

written into them--
ours is not one of them.

Our Constitution is
really, really old.

Of course,
the problem with making

an all-new
positive rights constitution...

...with human rights
enshrined from the beginning

is, uh, we would still
have to trust the people

interpreting that document,
right?

We still have to trust
the people who are in charge.

And the excuse

for not hiring women
in the criminal division was

they have to deal with
all these tough types,

and women aren't up to that.

And I was amazed.

I said, "Have you seen
the lawyers at legal aid

"who are representing
these tough types?

They are women."

People ask me sometimes,

"When, when do you think
it will be enough?

When will... will there be
enough women on the court?"

And my answer is,
"When there are nine."

I, uh... I loved this contest.

It made me believe people would
listen to me when I spoke.

Also I, uh, I had braces
and terrible acne.

It was nice to be valued
for my brain.

While I was making this,
I, uh, I met with young women

who are doing these kinds
of contests today.

I just, I wanted to hear
what they were thinking

about our country,
about our Constitution.

And one of these
brilliant young women

-has agreed to join us
here tonight. -Rosdely.

-Go.

Hi.

My name is Rosdely Ciprian.

I'm a 14-year-old debater
from New York City,

and I've been involved
with parliamentary debate

since the second semester
of sixth grade.

I've argued topics such as
legalizing medical marijuana

and whether the United States
should have

more diplomatic engagement with
the People's Republic of China.

Mr. Beattie is my debate coach.

He coaches to argue both sides
of a debate.

Which is why Heidi
invited me here tonight--

to dig deeper into a big
question about the Constitution:

Is it protecting us, or is it
the source of our problems?

Personally, I think
the answer is both.

But for the sake
of having a good debate,

we're each going to take
a different side here tonight.

But before I can explain to you

the rules of
a parliamentary debate,

let me just say that the
Constitution is not a crucible.

At least that's not
how I like to think of it.

Why not just think of the
Constitution as a human being?

I mean, it was
made by human beings,

so it's not
a big stretch, right?

Are human beings perfect? No.

Are we capable
of perfection? No.

But this doesn't mean
we're not valuable.

We're always growing
and changing, learning.

My opponent brought up
the Ninth Amendment

in her prepared speech-- which
went way over time, by the way.

-Sure, the penumbra
metaphor is an interesting way

to understand
the Ninth Amendment,

and I'm not arguing against it.

But let me help you
understand it in another way.

Now, I don't have
any imaginary friends.

But I have invented a character
I like to play in rehearsal

named Boxellia.

Boxellia is
a scrillion-year-old AI robot

who can tell the future.

She knows what you're gonna do
next summer,

and she knows
what life on Earth will be like

a thousand years from now.

To me, the Ninth Amendment
is like Boxellia;

she holds the memory
of our future.

And too bad for us,

we won't know what that is
until we get there.

-Okay, let's start this debate.
-All right, let's do it!

Uh, okay, for the past
two years, uh, Rosdely and I

have been doing parliamentary
style debate together-- parli.

Uh, this is a style that did not
exist when I was in high school.

And, like she said, we're
gonna do a real-live debate

-for you right here, right now.
-Yes, and our topic is:

Should we abolish
the United States Constitution?

Uh, and there are
some amazing folks

passing out
pocket Constitutions,

-so you can follow along,
check our work. -

Typically,
in a parliamentary debate,

there are three people
on a team,

but we're going to be doing this
one-on-one tonight.

This is a style I like to call
"Iron Woman."

And usually in a debate,
we use a form called "PO-POOP,"

which is "Proposition,
Opposition, Proposition,

Opposition, Opposition,
Proposition,"

but we've invented another style
we like to call "POPOPO,"

which is "Proposition,
Opposition, Proposition,

Opposition,
Proposition, Opposition."

-The debaters

have been training me
to be the moderator,

and my most important duty
is to flip a coin to determine

which side of the argument
the debaters are gonna take.

Rosdely, call it in the air.

-T-Tails.

-Yeah.
-I guess that means

-you're heads, Heidi.
It's heads. -I'm heads.

-Heads? Okay.
-Yeah.

Uh, I want opposition, keep.

Okay, I'll take
proposition, abolish.

Okay, debaters, you have
90 seconds to prepare,

starting now.

Okay, Rosdely's
also been telling me

that in parliamentary debate,
audience participation

plays a huge role
in determining the outcome.

That means that
if one of our debaters

says something
that really lands with you--

positively or negatively--
you got to make some noise.

If Rosdely or Heidi says
something that you really love,

what are you gonna do?

And if they say something
you really hate,

what are you gonna do?

And if upstairs hates it
but downstairs loves it,

what are you gonna do?

Yeah, this feels okay.
I have, I have faith in you.

-Ready?

-Uh, yes.
-Uh... yes.

Will proposition
please approach.

You have two minutes,
starting now.

Good evening, judges.
My name is Rosdely Ciprian,

and I'm here
to represent the proposition:

"This house ought to abolish
the United States Constitution."

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Will everyone
please raise your hand?

Now, if you're a white man
who owns property,

please put your hands down.

Under the original terms
of the Constitution,

those of you with your hands up
are not considered citizens.

Let me ask you a question.

How would you feel if these
white men went into another room

and made all the rules
for the rest of us?

That's what I thought. Let me
ask you a second question.

How many rich, white men
who own property

are still in control
of our government today?

-I know, right?

So why don't you look through
your pocket Constitutions

and see where
people like us belong.

I am right-- oh--

-right here on page 34...
-Point of order!

-We can't use props
in the debate! -Noted!

-Who said that?
Who said that? -Thank you.

You taught me that.
You taught me that.

-Did I? Did I?

Moving on, moving on.
My second point, judges,

is that the dead
should not govern the living.

Thomas Jefferson himself said

that we should draft
a new constitution

for every generation.

-The framers...

The framers have been in
their graves for over 200 years.

They lived in a world
without toothbrushes, deodorant

and toilet paper.

The great Benjamin Franklin

didn't even take a bath in
fresh water, but instead he took

something called an "air bath,"
where he would

walk around naked, thinking
that the air would bathe him.

And our very own
George Washington died

because he had a cold
and decided to treat it

with bloodletting.

So why, why are we listening
to Bloodletting Washington

and Air Bath Franklin?!

Our Constitution is like
the Horcrux in Harry Potter.

It is a piece of
our founding fathers' soul

that is still
somehow still alive,

ruling over the rest of us.

Let me explain.
In Harry Potter,

a Horcrux is an object
in which a dark wizard

has hidden a fragment
of their soul

for the purpose
of gaining immortality.

It is time
to destroy the Horcrux

so that we can finally move on
from the sins of our past

and finally write a document
that is truly democratic

-and fully alive.

-Thank you.

Judges, uh, I am the first
opposition speaker to the motion

that we should abolish
the United States Constitution.

My opponent, uh,
just quoted Thomas Jefferson

and said that the dead
should not govern the living.

However, Thomas Jefferson
himself is dead,

so why is she listening to him?!

She also said she wants

to make
a brand-new Constitution,

but let me ask you this.

Who gets to make this new,
perfect, utopian Constitution?

Will those of us who had
our hands raised get to make it?

I don't think so.

This new Constitution
will be made

by politicians,
and since Congress

is still made up
of mostly old white men,

why does she think they will
write a better Constitution?!

Finally, judges,

I do not know what
that Harry Potter thing is,

so I will not debate it.

Judges...

we have the oldest
active, living constitution

in the world.

My opponent, who...
who is very young,

-wants you to think

that this is a bad thing,
but the reason our Constitution

has lasted so long
is because it contains

the tools of its own correction,
and it also contains

the tools we need
to free ourselves from tyranny.

-And we need
these tools right now!

-It is undeniable

that America is more equal,
more democratic than it was

230 years ago.

In fact, you know what?

It is because of
this Constitution,

not in spite of it, that she
and I can stand up here today

-and insist on a better future
for our country! -

Abolish, you have
one minute for rebuttal.

Judges, my opponent's rebuttal
that Thomas Jefferson is dead,

so why should we listen to him,
I guess she can have it.

-I don't need it.

I will grant
that I do not yet have a plan

for who will create
this new document,

but I do know that it'll not be
fully created by white men.

-And apparently...

apparently, my opponent--
who is much older--

isn't aware about the recent
changes in our government.

Congress is more diverse
than it has ever been,

-and I have-- yes!

Yes! Yes, yes, yes!

And I have faith that people
like me will be involved

in this redesigning process,

whether these men
like it or not.

We have all these amendments
that are supposed to correct

the wrongs of our history.

However, let's look
at the 13th Amendment.

It abolished slavery,

only for it to be reimagined
as a prison industry

that is a new systemic form
of oppression.

It is something that I consider
to be an illusion of progress.

And how do you expect
to make any real progress

when the electoral college
is a hot mess...

...two of our...
two of our last three presidents

did not win the popular vote,

different branches of government
are overstepping their powers,

-voter suppression is rampant...

and nine people-- nine people--
have the disproportionate power

over our basic human rights
and communities of color, women,

-LGBTQIA folx and immigrants

have their rights violated
on a daily basis. Thank you.

Keep, you have 30 seconds

-to cross-examine.
-Our document was designed

to make the changes
that you want to make.

So why are you willing to put
our entire democracy at risk

instead of just passing
an amendment?

Well, we haven't passed
an amendment in my lifetime.

We've been trying to pass
the Equal Rights Amendment

for the past hundred years;
what makes you think

-we're gonna pass it now?
-Okay. Fair enough.

We're actually one state away
from ratification,

-so you want to give up now?
-Well, it's not giving up

if we're being set up to fail.

-Fine, let me ask you this.

Let's say we give you
this new Constitution.

-Okay.

What is to stop

private lobbying organizations,
corporations,

like, say, the NRA,
from influencing

-the making of this new document
with their money? -

Well, this is why we need
a new Constitution

to stop these
big lobbying corporations

from using their money
to tilt the boat

that is our laws.

-Okay, but how?

How are you
gonna make that happen?

-By making a new Constitution.

-Time!

Keep, you have one minute
for rebuttal.

-Judges!

I agree that
some of the progress,

uh, that has been made
in this country is an illusion.

However, if we throw out
this Constitution,

we throw away real progress

that people fought and died
to achieve.

If we get rid of
this Constitution tomorrow,

here is what would happen.

Same-sex marriage
would be illegal in 14 states.

-Abortion would be
illegal in 30 states.

-Segregation
would technically be legal

in 32 states.

-Judges, the only thing

protecting most of us right now
is actually this Constitution.

And the only thing, the only
thing holding us together

at a very divided time
is a collective faith

in this document.

Yes, you and I might
interpret it differently,

but without it,
we risk complete collapse.

Judges, Abraham Lincoln said

we should not throw out
the Constitution,

but to throw out the men
who abuse it!

-Thank you!

-Abolish,

you have 30 seconds
to cross-examine.

Would you agree that the
Supreme Court could roll back

most of the rights
you just listed

even if we keep
this Constitution?

-Yes, I absolutely agree
with you. -Oh, okay.

That is, that is why I think
we have to do the-the--

That's why I don't think
that our basic human rights

can be left up to the whims
of a partisan court.

It's why I think we have to do

the hard work
of passing amendments,

even if they don't always work,
even if it takes time.

We don't have time.
How long is it gonna take?

How long is it gonna take

to write a climate change
amendment?

-At this rate, we'll be extinct!

I-I hear you, but I don't think
it's gonna take longer

to-to write that amendment
than it will to write

-a whole new Constitution.
-Okay.

Out of 4,500 words and 27
amendments in the Constitution,

is the word "women"
even mentioned once?

-Time!

-No, no, but I...

Each side will have
one minute to conclude,

starting with abolish.

Being a young girl
in modern America,

I never really thought about
the Constitution that deeply.

I had other things
to think about:

friends, conspiracy theories,
food and Netflix.

I now realize
that the Constitution's harms

outweigh its good,
and this is the reason

why we need to get rid of it.

The Constitution was a radical,
upstart, visionary document

created by passionate people

like James Madison
and Gouverneur Morris,

who were trying to envision
a new-- google him--

-who were trying to envision...

who were trying to envision
a new beginning

and a framework
for making change.

But today it is being used by a
small segment of the population

as a conservative force
to prevent change.

The farther we get
from its inception,

the less it speaks
to who we are now.

This document is old
and arthritic.

I am one of this generation's
founding daughters

telling you want I want
for the rest of my life.

I want a document that
takes action on climate change,

that believes health care
is a human right,

-that protects gender equality

and says that education
is a fundamental pillar

for our society.

So join me, join me
in making a new document

-that protects us all.

-Thank you.

Judges, the truth is I totally
agree with my opponent.

-I believe

that to have
a neutral Constitution,

a negative rights Constitution,

means that we have
a Constitution

that simply perpetuates
the status quo,

which means that it perpetuates
white supremacy and misogyny

-and violence.

I wish we could
get rid of this document

and make
a brand-new Constitution

exactly like the one
she describes.

I just, I do not believe
that there is a way to do this

without putting
the most vulnerable people

in this country in danger.

-I also...

I also don't think democracy
is something that just happens

to us because we magically
change a piece of paper.

Democracy is something
that we have to make happen,

that we have to fight for,

that we have to enact
every single day!

Judges, the great civil rights
activist Diane Nash said,

"Freedom is, by definition,
people realizing

they are their own leaders."

So, you know what? Let's pass
a climate change amendment.

Let's pass
the Equal Rights Amendment!

-Or you know what?

Better yet, let's run
for Congress ourselves!

Rosdely Ciprian, I am ready

to start knocking
on doors for you!

-Pandering!
-That...

Fine, you know what?
I am pandering,

-but I also mean it!

-Thank you! Thank you so much.

Okay, so... it is time
to choose the judge.

Rosdely will be choosing
our judge.

Let's see.

I see people looking away,
which is how democracy dies.

-Um...

-Would you like to be our judge?
-Me?

-Yes.
-Uh... Uh, s...

-Sure.

-Okay, what is your name?
-I'm, uh--

-My-my name's Maddie.
-Where are you from?

I'm from Berkeley, California,
but I live in New York now.

-Oh.
-Oh, amazing. All right.

Um, Maddie, do you mind, uh,
do you mind standing up for us?

Do you mind actually
walking up to the front

-of the stage for us? All right.
-Oh, s-sure.

-Um...

-Park yourself right here, yeah.
Very nice. -All right. Um...

Maddie, as you know, you have a
very important decision to make,

uh, to keep or abolish
the United States Constitution.

Uh, we would love for you to
make your decision in silence.

Don't tell us,
and once you know,

open the corresponding envelope

and read the official language
out loud to the people.

Uh, that way, it's legal.

-Uh, we'll be over here,

so we can't see
what you're deciding.

Okay. I, Madeline,

on behalf of the audience

of What the Constitution
Means to Me,

do hereby vote to abolish

-the Constitution.
-Yay! -

Uh, all right, no.
Thank you so much.

I guess, uh,
since you voted to abolish,

uh, I guess you can keep
your pocket Constitutions

so you have something to read
in your bunkers.

Uh, we are at the end
of our evening,

uh, but Rosdely and I...

Before we go home, Heidi and I

like to ask each other
a couple questions,

get to know each other
better as people.

And these questions were left
by last night's audience,

so feel free to leave your own
questions on the way out.

-Um, Terri?
-Yes?

Will you please dim the lights?

Absolutely. Here you go.

Okay.

-Sorry.

Rosdely, what smell
reminds you most of home?

-Home?

Probably, 'cause of
my Dominican culture,

mangú, salami, fried eggs,

which is basically
smashed plantains,

fried sausage
and, like, this orange juice

mixed with milk drink.

That reminds me of home.

-I want to eat all that
right now. -Yeah, so do I.

-All right.

What is the worst fashion trend
from your childhood?

Oh, my God.

Um, there's...
there were so many.

-Um...

Uh, very permed hair, the--
I teased my bangs up

and wore, like,
a big permed helmet.

-Rosdely, this is your last
question. You ready? -Yes.

Uh, Rosdely, what do you imagine
your life will be like

in 20 years?

I will be 34.

Um, I want to be
a New York Times best seller.

Oh, and then I kind of want to
have a signature look by then.

Like Doc Martens, business
casual pants and a T-shirt.

And my hair will just go
with the flow.

-That's what I imagine.

And one of these brilliant
young women

has agreed to join us
here tonight.

Hi. My name is Rosdely Ciprian.

My name is Thursday Williams.

I am a recent graduate

of William Cullen Bryant
High School

and an alum of
the Legal Outreach Program

where I practice
constitutional debate.

-Heads.
-Tails.

-Tails.
-Heads.

-I'll take proposition, abolish.
-Opposition, keep.

-Opposition, keep. -I would like
proposition, abolish.

"This house ought to abolish

the United States Constitution."

-Yes.

The proposition says she's going
to make an all-new Constitution,

but let me ask you this:

Would you let me
go into another room

and decide all the rules
for all of you?

No, you wouldn't.
Let's be honest.

How many rich, white men
who own property

are still in control
of our government today?

I know, right?

We will not erase
the sins of our history

by simply tossing out
a piece of paper.

-Especially when this piece
of paper... -

...is capable of shining a light
into our own blind spots.

Thank you.

Hey!

Hey!

Just a glance
at current headlines

should tell you that
this moment really is different.

The consequences of any of us

sitting on the sidelines
are more dire.

With that being said, if
you want to change a country,

you need to wake up,
get involved, go vote,

put pressure on your
local representatives, protest.

Matter of fact, no.
Let's do it ourselves.

Let's run for local office.

Let's run for
student government.

Let's be the change
that we desire.

Let's start with
our own personal constitution

and build our way out.

-Thank you.