Earlier this summer, I sat with Liz Stein at a kitchen table in Brooklyn. A survivor of abuse by Jeffrey Epstein and Ghislaine Maxwell, she was exhausted, and she was angry. A storm of media coverage of the Department of Justice’s interview of Maxwell left her surrounded by photos of her abusers, who had been enabled by the system so many times. When news came that Maxwell had been transferred to a minimum-security facility, Liz hit her breaking point. Once again, survivors were being talked about—not heard.
It was around that kitchen table that an idea was born: What if we could shift the narrative? What if we could bring Liz, and numerous Epstein survivors, together to reclaim the microphone? Rather than magnifying the voice of a convicted perjurer and abuser, we could instead amplify the voices of survivors who had been silenced. Fast-forward to Sept. 3, when over 20 Epstein-Maxwell survivors descended on Washington, D.C.
As I stood there watching survivor after survivor speak out, I was struck by the surrounding community of survivors who came to D.C. to show their support. And then something amazing happened—we were approached by several women we had not met before, who disclosed that they too were Epstein survivors. They told us, “I needed to be here today. I needed to listen to my survivor sisters. This gave me strength and empowered me for the very first time.” One woman told me it was the first time she’d said out loud that Epstein had abused her. Courage is contagious.