“Do you know who my daddy is?”
Think of this when you look at the Brett Kavanaugh saga. And I mean dig down unto the privileged private school culture he grew up in. Look at what he did in college, heavy drinking and all that. All the excuses and then we are told, these women are political. `
“Do you know what happens to people who try to hurt my child?”
Think Jasón Miller, who allegedly got a woman pregnant and gave her an abortion pill. Did I mention she did not know? To add insult to injury, she almost died. He should face charges, but I doubt he will.
These two are the current examples of a culture of privilege. One that is extremely toxic and familiar. We have a ruling class that lacks a moral center. This story from Vice had me thinking back to my years running calls in Tijuana, Mexico. Those two questions were asked more than once. Or a variation of them. The children of the very well-heeled were bulletproof, above the law and clearly lived without consequences.
The Vice story describes it this way:
A contemporary of Kavanaugh’s at Georgetown Prep told HuffPost the scene there included “14-, 15-, 16-year-olds, 17-year-old kids doing whatever the fuck they wanted to do, with no repercussions. Drugs everywhere. Partying everywhere. Drinking — just whatever we wanted to do. It was unbelievable, off the rails.”
This was a summation of a few of my patients. They were drunk, they crashed their cars, they were drugged up. At times they had girls in the car, some, many under-age, who were paid off…handsomely. A few were prostitutes they picked up in the Zona Norte. They were also paid off for their silence.
At times we had very well connected parents demanding we alter run calls. I know I can sleep at night since I refused. I never removed from a call, “alcohol breath,” or for that matter, in an overdose, needle tracks or coke lines.
I had the privilege to be able to do that. Unlike most in EMS, I was from a much higher stratum of the social order. I could pull social rank.
In between calls at night, in certain areas of town, we heard them. These were fast cars racing on the streets. The cops were as afraid to stop them and give them a ticket, or take a bribe, as we were of loading them into the back of an ambulance. It was trouble, and mostly not worth it.
We had a name for them. One that is common jargon in Mexico. We called them Juniors.
That description of Kavanaugh and his friends from Vice fits it to a T. He was a Junior. He never faced the music for anything. Things that would have sent a child from the hood to the big house, he could do.
And while hyper-partisans for the blue team would like to believe their side does not…yes, they do. Al Gore III was arrested for possession. Granted, this was before weed became legal. Unlike the kids down in the hood, I am willing to bet he faced a stern looking judge and a talk. He had the means and social connections to avoid any hard time.
The point is that this problem is hardly partisan. It is a class issue. It is a power issue. The #metoo movement is quite frankly the first pushback these people have faced in their lives. They are used to getting away with their peccadillos. All it takes is a call…maybe, yes, a bribe. See the tape that emerged before the election. The president spoke the truth. He could get away with sexual assault. Why? Like Junior everywhere, he is above the law. None would dare put cuffs on him, or press charges.
“Do you know who I am?”
It is time to name them. Junior is a familiar way for me. I offer this to the rest of you. The first step in righting this is to admit we have a problem. It’s not because Republicans are morally bankrupt…a favorite of Democrats (for the moment). It is not that Democrats are boozers and sex addicted (as Republicans kept reminding us due to Senator Ed Kennedy, among others). This is a disease of class and privilege.
It is not like most cops can pull social rank. For that matter, Paramedics and Firefighters don’t have that luxury either. And most District Attorneys will try to bury the peccadilloes of the well connected. They have a family and a career to think about. These people can end that in a flash, or next election. It’s a protection racket of sorts.
What we are seeing in the Senate with Brett Kavanaugh is part of the culture. He is one of them. Many of these people, on both sides, have probably asked…do you know who I am? And you can bet their children do, regularly.
Vice identified the problem. I got chills…I have been in that moment when a Junior asks the question, laden with the implied threat. “Do you know who daddy is?”
And their parents do not send their kids for drug treatment. In many cases, they are driving a new car, a new muscle car, within weeks of crashing the last one. At times the new car is even more expensive than the last one. Social signaling and propriety must be maintained.
Sometimes they are killed, or worst, they are injured and disabled for life. At that point we are supposed to feel sorry instead of asking the serious questions…why was Junior able to do this? That is not allowed. It is part of the culture of silence.