I could feel the shift when I saw her at law school orientation. Her name tag read Katie Britt. Another brunette white girl like me, wearing my name. My name tag read Katherine Britt, but it didn’t stick. Even when I introduced myself as Katherine, everyone ended up calling me Katie. I was trying out a more professional version of myself, while this Katie Britt was already that professional–business casual outfit, comfortably networking, clearly ambitious–even with that name. 

Law school was the culmination of a lifetime in the education systems of Alabama. These systems and my classmates told me who I wanted to be, and Katie Britt was already everything. Katie Britt was a child of Alabama, and Alabama loved her back. Katie Britt was married to a football player. Katie Britt was a sensible conservative. Katie Britt was preparing for a career practicing law. Katie Britt’s hair was tamed and her calves were sculpted. She’d done it, and I eventually realized I didn’t even want to.

Law school ended, and I took a circuitous route toward reclaiming myself from my environment. I became a liberal. I became a librarian. I left Alabama. I left heterosexuality. I focused on stability and personal growth, while building a satisfying career. I settled on the respectable Kate E. Britt, which cheekily honors the name of my youth and distinguishes me from Katie Britt–a name that everyone would know soon enough.

I followed Katie Britt’s career from afar, confident that I would hear our name on bigger and bigger stages. As the protege of former Democrat Richard Shelby, she seemed poised to reject the far right in favor of a more sensible conservatism. She’s noted for making friends with John Fetterman at a time when Republicans and Democrats rarely have a kind word for each other. That’s about as good as one can expect from a Republican, and part of me hoped she had the ambition, experience, and wisdom to fight for a more sensible political landscape. 

Katie Britt succeeded on the trajectory I once pursued. Like a personal portrait of Dorian Gray, I saw my former ideal Katie Britt left to develop untended. Like the original Picture of Dorian Gray, the image only became uglier and meaner. I watched the State of the Union response knowing that this was Katie Britt’s true introduction to the nation, and I was disappointed to see that the woman I met over a decade ago is unrecognizable.

Now I’ve heard our name from the mouths of Joe Biden and Scarlett Johansson. I’ve seen our name disparaged in memes and news headlines. Katie Britt is living out my nightmare–mocked openly; compared to less-educated, less-qualified congresswomen; aligned with the worst people in the world against the betterment of women, minorities, queer folk, immigrants, and the environment. Is this fear-mongering, racist, lying Katie Britt the result of genuine belief? Or is Katie Britt strategically kowtowing to a sexual predator in hopes of being his running mate? The former impugns her intelligence; the latter condemns her soul.

George Wallace sold his soul in the late 1950s and embraced segregation to win the governorship. In the last 20 years, corruption has been on public display in every branch of Alabama politics. In 2006, Governor Don Siegelman was convicted on seven felony charges in a trial widely considered to involve prosecutorial misconduct and Karl Rove pulling the strings. Between June 2016 and April 2017, House Speaker Mike Hubbard was convicted of multiple felony corruption charges; Chief Justice Roy Moore was removed from the bench (for the second time) for defying Obergefell; Senator-turned-Attorney General Jeff Sessions caused Elizabeth Warren to persist, nevertheless; and Governor Robert Bentley resigned from office amid a sex and corruption scandal. Voter suppression, personal opportunism, and tradition sustain a culture that keeps Alabama politics in the national eye for all the wrong reasons.*

Katie Britt went to D.C. as a lawmaker. I went to Michigan as an academic law librarian. While she creates law, I pursue the meaning of law. What did the lawmakers intend? How have the laws been applied? What do scholars believe are or will be the ramifications of the law? Lawyers know that mountains of meaning underlie the text of a statute.

Finding meaning, seeking out origins, connecting disparate thoughts–these are values I carry with me through life. Attending law school with someone with my name; someone with my name swiftly ascending the ranks of the American government; the world knowing my name, but not me. I don’t know the meaning of this, and I can’t ignore any of it. 

I would love to be proved wrong–even George Wallace sought forgiveness in his 60s–but whatever hope I had for Katie Britt is gone. For myself, my classmate, and my home state, I am sad to learn that Katie Britt is just another successful Alabama politician.

*There is not time enough in the world to express my feelings about Tommy Fucking Tuberville.