Say It Ain’t So, Bill.

I grew up watching the Cosby Show. I loved everything about that show: the wit, the humor, the loving family dynamic, the elegance of their New York City brownstone, and most especially the brilliant way the matriarch and patriarch dealt with the chaos and craziness of their five children. And while everything about that show delighted me, it was Cosby, with his brilliant, giggle-worthy parenting who I simply adored. So to say I’ve been struggling with the recent allegations that he is a serial rapist is an understatement.
Unfortunately, it’s not the first time I’ve struggled to reconcile the person I idolize and the allegations against him. In 1996 I put in nearly 100 hour work weeks (for real. Didn’t even know that was possible) while working for the Clinton Gore Campaign’s consulting firm. But I was working for someone I believed in. Someone I felt really did feel my pain. I would have worked 200 hour weeks if that was possible. I was proud of the work I put in for President Clinton. So when the Lewinsky scandal broke I felt indignant and incensed. Like who was this whore of a girl with her thong panties and big hair to accuse the President of the United States of such gross behavior? How dare she? That was the sentiment of nearly every person at my firm – we were united in our indignation! Except for the woman I worked for. I remember about a month into the scandal when things started to look bad for good ole Bill that my boss said to me, “you know he did it.” To which I just stared at her blankly thinking it was some kind of trick question. “All the women he cheats with are trashy. He did it.”

Looking back I realize that marginal is a better word to describe the women he seduced. Bill always chose women who were marginal. Not credible – or at least not as credible as a governor or president. And naïve. Looking back at that time through the eyes of my forty-year-old self, it makes me sad that I thought such things about Monica Lewinsky (I am truly sorry, Monica). She was a young star-struck intern. He was the President of the United States. He was leader of the free world. She didn’t stand a chance.

So when all these terrible allegations against Cosby – of which I was blissfully unaware until recently, though they seem to have been around for quite some time – without even thinking I went to my safety response of indignation. These women want money. They want attention. Why did they wait so long? Why did they go back? And Janice Dickinson? Really?

But then the lessons learned by my twenty-three-year-old self started to kick in. Marginal. The one thing all these women had in common is that at the time of the rapes was that they were they were all marginal. Or at least more marginal than “America’s Dad.” By a lot.

And looking back with the experience of years, I know why they waited so long. I know why they kept going back. Because they didn’t want to believe it happened then any more than I want to believe it happened now. Some probably even thought that it was normal and expected – part of the deal. All of them wanted to pretend everything was fine. They didn’t want their friends and families to think of them as whores and trash. And most importantly, they didn’t want to think of themselves as whores and trash.

I’ve thought of what kind of advice the character of Dr. Heathcliff Huxtable would pass onto the real life Bill Cosby at this time. I don’t imagine that it would involve any games or gags. This advice wouldn’t elicit laughter. It would be straight, honest, and pointed. It’s time to do the right thing, end this, and tell the truth.

If you like my blog you’ll love my book. Buy The Working Mommy’s Manual on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Working-Mommys-Manual-Nicole-Corning/dp/0615637418/ref=cm_sw_em_r_dp_6ZRcqb0QFT7P8_tt