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120

True Grit

Becoming a feminist - seeing women through the prism of

feminism - meant changing and developing a new stance. For

instance, I hate prisons, but the process of becoming a feminist made me face the fact that I thought some people should be in jail. Years later, after watching rapists and batterers go free

almost al the time, my pacifism would collapse like a glass

tower, leaving me with jagged cuts everywhere inside and out

and half-buried as well. I began to believe that the bad guys

should be executed - not by the state but by the victim, if she

desired, one shot to the head.

When I was still a baby feminist (this being the lingo of the

movement), I was asked to go and interview a felon named

Tommy Trantino, who had published a book of drawings and

stories called Unlock the Lock. The person who had asked me

to go thought that I could write something about Trantino

that might help to get him out.

I went to Rahway State Prison, a maximum-security prison

in New Jersey. I talked to Trantino in a small, transparent

room, almost al glass. I was surrounded by the prison population, not in lockdown. Trantino had been convicted of killing

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Heartbreak

two cops. I read a lot about him before I went. The same

day on which he had kil ed the cops he had also beaten up a

couple of women.

I asked Trantino al the obvious questions, including “Did

you do it?” His response was that he didn’t remember. Then

I departed from the script. I said that I knew he had been in

jail a long time, but had he heard of the women’s movement

and what did he think of it? Hands in his pants pockets, he

spread his legs wide open and said, “Wel , I'm good with women

and I'm bad with women.” That was enough for me, but ever

the intrepid reporter I said that I had noted that he had beat

up two women on the day of the killings; did he think he

would stil beat up on women if he was out? His answer was

an equivocating no, but I heard yes as clear as church bel s on

a Sunday, and as far as I was concerned he could stay in jail

forever. I didn’t think that this was the right way to think, but

I couldn’t stop thinking it.

I began the Socratic course of discussing the problem with

my friends, stil mostly on the pacifist left. Everyone told me,

in different ways, that I had an obligation to help Trantino get

out: prison was the larger evil. Here I was, virtually overlooking the murders of the two policemen; but he hit those women, and I didn’t think there was anything to suggest that if or

when he was out he wouldn’t hit more women.

One weekend someone took me to a benefit for one of the

pacifist groups. I was so offended by the anti woman lyrics to

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True Grit

a song that I got up and walked out. Someone else did, too.

We reached the pavement at approximately the same time.

“I have a question I'd like to ask you, ” I said to the stranger.

I then presented the Trantino problem, which was really

gnawing at me. “It sounds like you already know what you

want to do, ” he said. Yes, I nodded. “You want him to stay in,

right? ” “Yes, ” I said out loud. The man was John Stoltenberg,

and I've lived with him for nearly twenty-seven years. I called

up the friend who had asked me to write the piece and said I

couldn’t do it. I told her the true reason: the women, not the

police.

123

Anita

The same friend asked me to go talk with Anita Hoffman,

whose husband, Abbie, had just gone underground after being

busted for selling cocaine. I had donated some money to

Abbie’s defense fund and said he should just keep running.

I didn’t real y know why I was going to see Anita.

The apartment was small and crowded, distinguished only

by a television set the size of a smal country. Anita’s child with

Abbie, America, was playing. She and I sat on what was her

bed to talk.

She and Abbie had not been together for a while. It was

clear that she was poor. She said that she didn’t know what to

do, that a friend of Abbie’s had offered her work as a prostitute (“escort, ” high end of the line) and was put ing a lot of pressure on her. Abbie’s latest caper had left her destitute. This

guy was a friend of Abbie’s, so he had to be okay, right? She

had thought of doing organizing - poor, single mothers like

herself who had no political power in the system; but real y,

what was wrong with prostituting? She could earn a lot of

money and she was lonely. Honey, I thought, you don’t begin

to know what lonely is.

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Anita

I told her about my own experiences in the trade, especial y

about the dissociation that was essential to doing the deed.

You had to separate your mind from your body. Your consciousness had to be hovering somewhere near the ceiling behind you or on the far side of the room watching your body.

No one got through it without having that happen. I also told

her that she’d begin to hate men; at first manipulating them

would seem like power, but eventually and inevitably the day

would come when one perceived them as coarse and brutal,

smel y, dirty bullies. She had said that she liked sex and that

she had had sex with the guy who was now trying to pimp

her. I told her that the sex with Abbie’s friend was a setup to

make her more pliant and that in prostituting one lost the

ability to feel, so if one liked sex it was the last thing, not the

first thing, that one should do. I told her that most people

thought that women prostituted in order to get money

for drugs, but it was the other way around; the prostitution

became so vile, so ugly, so hard, that drugs provided the only

soft: landing, a kind of embrace - and on the literal level they

took away the pain, physical and mental.

I didn’t see or talk to Anita again after that night, but the

friend who had asked me to go said that Anita had moved to

California and had a job as an editor. I don’t know if Anita

ever tried the prostituting, but if so I helped her get out fast

and if not I helped with that, too. I was lucky to have the

chance to talk with her, and I began to understand that my

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Heartbreak

own experiences could have meaning for other women in

ways that mattered. I began to trust myself more.

126

Prisons

Perhaps because I came from the pacifist left, I had an intense

and abiding hatred for prisons (even though the U. S. prison