Testifying Against Harvey Weinstein, the Power of Humor to Cope with Trauma (and the Text I Regret Sending.)

A dark sense of humor is required for those who have experienced grief and trauma.

It’s sexual assault awareness month, which takes me back to my life last January 2020. It’s unfathomable that this was only a year ago. It was a different world. Before I had to spend a year locked away, before I lost one of my dear friends and mentors Phran, but still after the death of my dad - which will always be my main before and after. 

It was during this time that I testified against Harvey Weinstein. I always feel a little weird talking about it. Not that I’m not proud. I just feel like I am taking credit for something I don’t really deserve. Like having people think I’m the founder of a non-profit helping the world, when it’s only one that I consult for. It is my amazing friend Mimi Haley as well as Annabella Sciorra, Jessica Mann, Dawn Dunning, Tarale Wulff, and Lauren Young. They deserve 90% of the credit. The lawyers Joan Illuzzi  and Meghan Hast 9%. And the last 1% I will leave to my Chihuahua Pug, Peanut, for putting Harvey behind bars.

I was, I guess, what is called a “secondary witness.” I was testifying on behalf of my friend and old roommate Miriam. Here’s the story. Wait until the end to have an emotional reaction because I guarantee this story is not going the way you think it is. 

My bad ass friend was sexually assaulted. It was horrible and traumatic. And it was Harvey Weinstein. But I was a witness. Anyway, not to sound like I’m bragging but his lawyer kept using these dated disgusting rape tropes and I essentially “ripped her a new one,” as a friend of mine put it after reading about it in this Deadline article. Also this one time my chihuahua Peanut chased Harvey around mine and Miriam's apartment. That came up in the trial. Anyway both kinda went viral and well, I now have a famous chihuahua. Peanut the chihuahua is in over 1000 articles around the world. For chasing and frightening Harvey Weinstein. 

Peanut the Chihuahua chased and scared Harvey Weinstein. Go Peanut!

A New York Post Page 6 headline reads “Harvey Weinstein was Chased by Tiny Chihuahua Around Accuser’s Apartment,”and the opening paragraph states: “Harvey Weinstein was once one of the most powerful men in Hollywood — but he was no match for Peanut the Chihuahua.” She even has her own episode on NY1 news. 

But that is how you deal with shit like rape (and grief). In the middle of all the darkest stuff, you have to laugh. I like to think this humorous moment, that the press certainly enjoyed, gave the jury a release that allowed them to clear their heads and continue with what must have been harrowing and gut wrenching testimony that they wanted to evaluate fairly.*

Anyway, it was an intense experience. If you have ever testified, you know it is very different than how it is portrayed on TV. On TV it seems like the witnesses just come in day of the trial and testify. In reality there are lots of meetings beforehand with the lawyers as you explain what you know or saw or heard and they ask the kind of questions the prosecution will probably ask you. I assume they want to make sure you are clear enough and remember well enough. So I had had many conversations as they put the picture together: 

Lawyers: Have you ever met Harvey Weinsten.

Me: Unfortunately.

Lawyers: We have to ask. Did Harvey ever...did he ever assault you in any way.

Me: He assaulted my eye-balls. 

Lawyers: Ha. Okay that doesn’t count.

Me: Really?! But have you seen him!

I really hate Harvey. I hate injustice. I hate the mistreatment of others. I can’t just talk calmly about him.

And then the day of, when I came in to testify, there were issues. Apparently there often are. Lawyers fight up to the last second to block witnesses. Fight to limit what they are allowed to talk about, and while I don’t know the details, I found out later something like that was being fought out while I was locked in a room which was being guarded. Apparently it was guarded to make sure witnesses don’t collude. 

So I sat locked in this room for a full day. I didn’t get to testify until the next day. Almost no one knew where I was because I wasn’t supposed to talk about this with anyone. I told a few close friends and family, but I told them I couldn’t talk about the details. So I sat there and as my heart pounded, less and less as the hours wore on and I grew more used to the fact I was about to testify, I texted a few close friends a text I could never have imagined would come back to haunt me almost a year later.

I honestly had no idea how I would act when I was there and saw Harvey. I knew I would never do anything violent. I knew I planned to tell the truth. I also knew myself and knew I might not be as “polite?” or “contained?” as they might like. I certainly knew I wasn’t gonna play the demure shame-filled role women (even secondary witnesses) are expected to play at rape trials. At least historically. And given that we live in a society where such an overtly misogynistic man like Trump can become president, I was not sure how “historic” this mindset actually was.

So I covered my bases and shot off the following text to my friends and to my mom.

Me: Hey guys. Not sure when I’m up. But when I am, there is a good chance I will be held in contempt of court. If so and if I have to spend the night in jail can you bring me my face creams and organic food. I know I won’t eat a single thing they serve in jail. 

A normal request. And I was more than willing to spend a night in jail for a good cause. But I had no idea that about a year later I would get a few texts from those same friends.

Friends: Hey. So since you are single, I think this is your soulmate -

QAnon Shaman wants organic food in jail. So what? I did too.

But in all fairness, I was willing to go to jail to fight against a rapist and society’s historic treatment of rape, while this horn-headed shaman was going to jail fighting FOR a rapist to illegitimately be instilled into a leadership role he royally fucked up the first time, by doing things like closing the global pandemic response team and replacing Ruth Bader Ginsberg with a character from the Handmaid’s Tale.

Anyway, I did end up testifying. I told the truth of the story. And the jury listened. Somewhat to me. But mainly to my friend. And to the other women brave and heroic enough to come forward. And Harvey Weinstein will most likely spend the rest of his life in jail. And hopefully this will be a landmark case causing rape to be treated differently going forward.

Humor and laughter gives a really needed release during dark times. Those in the dead parent club get it. Unfortunately.

Regardless, while the story itself that I shared in the courtroom is far from funny, and being funny was not at all my intention, the humor of my little chihuahua terrifying Harvey Weinstein was a much needed release. Something we all need in the middle of the darkest times. Something I need to cope with the loss of my dad. The dark humor and jokes we tell when fellow grievers get together is something that makes those not “in the dead parent club” (or sibling, spouse, even child) club very uncomfortable. But we need them to get through the awfulness of the trauma of our loss and the daily emptiness of their absence. 

And thank you to all my “secondary witnesses” who got me through and still get me through the trauma of grief. 

Despite the humor of the absurdity of Peanut becoming famous for chasing Harvey, sexual assault is far from funny. Please donate to https://www.rainn.org/ where your donation will be doubled this April in honor of Sexual Assault Awareness Month. 

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*not that I have any idea what the jury was thinking. I can only guess. And not that I had any intention of being funny. I was just telling the truth.