Inside the warm ladies’ room, with its milky gray, acoustically sensitive tile, only one stall was in use. Zee and Greer took the ones on either side of it, trying to look like normal people availing themselves of a public bathroom. Greer sat down and dipped her head, seeing the edge of a woman’s gray suede boot beneath the divider. She held very still and didn’t make a sound. From the other side of the graffitied wall, with a disturbing message scratched onto it in a very small hand—please can anyone help me i like to cut myself—there was a pause, and then the predictable release. The single strand, the straight line from body-opening to waiting water, the ordinariness of Faith Frank, famous feminist, peeing.
The vulnerability and realness of women were on display right here, and Faith flushed and emerged. Greer stood. Through the space between door and frame she watched Faith go over to the mirror. Zee hadn’t come out of her own stall yet. She was obviously waiting, kindly allowing Greer to approach first. But Greer noticed then that Faith was leaning on the sink for a moment, closing her eyes; and then Faith sighed. Greer knew that Faith was taking a second for herself, which she probably really needed. Tonight everyone had wanted something from her, and it had all had a cumulative effect. No one was a bottomless well of giving; not even Faith Frank. Greer had been all set to burst forth and try to finish her conversation with Faith, but now she hesitated. She didn’t want to add to Faith’s burden. But she couldn’t keep staying in here forever, so she unlatched the door and walked to the sink, smiling tentatively at Faith, attempting a state that would appear the opposite of demanding.
Faith looked at Greer in the mirror and said, “Oh, hello. You were asking me a question in there, right? And then the evening was suddenly cut off. I’m sorry about that.”
Greer just looked at her. Faith was apologizing for not finishing her exchange with Greer, a stranger, in the chapel. How are you like this? Greer thought, she who could barely manage her own needs, and to some extent Cory’s. But it all came naturally to Faith; she had been doing this for a very long time.
“That’s so nice of you,” Greer said. “It’s just that . . . when you told me to speak up in there, it was hard for me? Listen to that. My voice just goes up. I don’t really know how to be,” she admitted, and then she stopped talking.
Faith considered her. “Tell me your name.”
“Greer Kadetsky.”
“All right, Greer. No one said there was one way to be. There isn’t.”
“But it would be nice to be able to say what I think, what I believe, without feeling like I’m about to have a stroke.”
“Well, that is certainly true.”
“I had a teacher who used to tell the boys to use their inside voices. I’m thinking, maybe I should use my outside voice.”
“Maybe. But don’t be hard on yourself; don’t beat yourself up. Just try to accomplish what you can, and what you care about, while being yourself.”
Greer quickly licked her dry lips. Zee was still in the stall, giving Greer this time with Faith. Any moment now she would appear, and Greer would have to cede the floor to her. “I cared about this thing that happened here,” Greer said. “This entitled guy who said things and grabbed us. We testified, but it went nowhere. I feel like I don’t belong at this school,” she added. “It’s the wrong place for me. I knew it would be wrong.”
“So why did you come here?”
“My parents screwed up when it came to my financial aid,” Greer said hotly. “They acted really badly.”
Faith kept looking at her. “I see. So you’re quiet but you’re also furious,” she said. “It seems like it’s very hard for you to keep asserting yourself. But you’re doing it anyway, because you want to find meaning, is that right?” Greer hadn’t thought of it that way, exactly. But as soon as Faith said it, she understood it to be true. She wanted to find meaning. That had been the missing piece, or one of them. “I admire that,” said Faith. “I admire you.”
Before Greer could even think about what had just been said, Faith reached out and took Greer’s hands, as though they were about to sing a children’s song. Greer could feel Faith’s rings, which came together like brass knuckles. Faith stood holding Greer’s hands and attentively studying her, seeing her.
“I don’t want to seem ungrateful,” Greer said. “I have a full scholarship, which I know is huge.” She began to worry about how long they would keep holding hands; was she supposed to be the one to let go?
Faith said, “Look, you’re allowed to be angry if you feel you weren’t treated fairly. I know that, believe me. But yes, a full scholarship is definitely huge. Most women graduate from college with mountains of debt, and since women earn far less than men, they end up paying it back far longer, and it’s absolutely crippling to them. You won’t have that problem. Don’t forget that, Greer.”
“I won’t,” Greer said, and as if this were the correct answer, Faith released her hands. “But this place,” Greer added, “and the way it’s run, it’s so unfair. After the hearing, the administration was like, ‘Okay, Tinzler family of Kissimmee, Florida, we’re happy to keep taking your tuition money. And we’re happy to give your son a diploma at the end just like you were expecting. No worries!’”
“So, unfairness is your theme?” asked Faith.
“Isn’t it yours too?”
Faith seemed to consider this, and she was about to answer when the stall door opened. Zee came out, smiling, and went to the sink, where she washed her hands with a surgeon’s vigor. Greer felt disappointed that her time alone with Faith Frank had now ended, but she gallantly stepped back as Zee dried her hands and then positioned herself in the middle of the bathroom.
“Ms. Frank,” said Zee. “I thought you were magnificent up there.”
“Oh, thank you. That’s very kind of you to say.”
Probably Faith Frank had some faculty reception to go to. Maybe faculty members were gathering in President Beckerling’s living room right this minute, milling around awkwardly as they waited for the guest of honor to arrive. But Faith appeared in no hurry to leave here. She turned back to her own image, scrutinizing it again briefly, without the female self-hatred that she had once warned about in an op-ed in the New York Times during Fashion Week.
“No, thank you,” Zee persisted. “You gave me so much to think about. I’ve been your super-fan always. I know that sounds semi-stalkerish, and I don’t mean it that way. When I was growing up we had to do a project for school called Women Who Made a Difference. I really wanted to pick you. But Rachel Cardozo got there first, alphabetically, and that was that.”
“Ah. Sorry. So who did you end up choosing?” asked Faith.
“The Spice Girls,” Zee said. “They were great too, in their own way.”
“They certainly were,” said Faith, amused.
“I’ve always related to you,” Zee went on easily, “because I think being an activist is just part of me. I’m gay, which is also just part of me, and hearing you speak tonight about all the work you’ve done with women, and how inspiring they’ve been to you,” Zee said, “I had a new thought, which is: Well, no wonder I like women. They’re wonderful.” She thrust out her hand for a shake, and Faith shook it.
“Good luck to you,” Faith said. Then she looked at Greer. “Actually, I don’t have only one theme,” Faith said to her, returning to the exact place she and Greer had left off in their conversation. “And neither should you,” Faith continued. “The thing that happened with your parents—whatever it was, Greer, it wasn’t fatal. You should use that experience and find a way to be bigger than it. And the thing that happened here, the sexual assault case—”
“You think we should be bigger than that too?” Greer asked, surprised. She thought about what Faith had said in the chapel about how they might play a role in the great cause of women’s equality. Because of that, she’d expected Faith to say to her now: Keep going, Greer Kadetsky. Never stop fighting. Punch your way through this. You can do it.
“No,” Faith said. “It sounds like you already did what you could. You made your point. If you seem to be hounding this person, then sympathy will redound to him. It’s too much of a risk to take.” She took a second. “And also, what about the other women who are involved? Do they want this revisited?”