Culture and Politics

Resignation

Why has no one called for Trump’s resignation? His commuting Roger Stone’s prison sentence, despite ample evidence of Stone’s guilt, provided the familiar dyspepsia of horror without surprise.  Trump’s gall is endless. As is Stone’s. (I’m sure there’s a gallstone joke somewhere….)

But even Mitt Romney, who dared to vote to convict Trump, and called Stone’s commutation “unprecedented, historic corruption”, didn’t call for Trump’s resignation. Why bother? Americans can vote him out in November.

We heard that argument before the Impeachment proceedings. It’s too risky. We can just vote him out. Meanwhile, what could possibly be worse than what lead to the Impeachment?

Amidst the heinous policies against immigrants, that includes family separations still, and caging children, Trump has withdrawn from our allies and has continued to cozy up to autocrats. He is unconcerned with the plight of Americans, or those who seek to live as Americans, unless he benefits personally. 

Meanwhile, the only one who has not begun to confront the hideous, systemic racism embedded in our American being, is Trump. As the country is pained and seeks healing and transformation, he wants to restore the statues that glorified the Confederacy—that seceded from the U.S! As statues came down, literally all that’s left is the base.

And yet, while we as a country have been resigned to racism in insidious forms, we are being lead once again by a movement toward dignity—Black Lives Matter. The overt brutality caught on video has been effective in showing what most White people don’t see or experience. There is profound concern that the resignation that has endured for so long in this country will continue without dramatic change. 

And the concern about November….besides a rigged system of gerrymandering that has persisted and expanded for decades disenfranchising voters, especially Black and Latinx voters, we are losing a battle against COVID-19, that has us sequestered to stay healthy.

Trump’s abdication of responsibility to keep Americans safe should have demanded calls for his resignation, but we have been too resigned to his crazy. His recklessness and laziness, not to mention an ability to govern or be a serious human, has actual repercussions. His demand to re-open schools without adequate policy proposals or funding so that they are safe is simply cruel. 

It’s hard to list the top most egregious displays of flagrant abuse, but I still can not wrap my head around the Russian bounty on American troops in Afghanistan. Trump claims to not have been briefed. Still, there has been no effort to do anything about the fact that Russia has put a bounty on American troops in Afghanistan. No calls for resignation. 

Vote him out? We started with Russian interference in our elections. Here we go again. Resignation? Voter suppression. Resignation? A PANDEMIC that makes going to the polls a personal and public potentially life-threatening situation. And he seeks to limit mail-in ballots. Vote him out?

We are the ones who have been resigned. We have been resigned to injustice for too long. We have been believing that institutions and norms are too entrenched and difficult to change, and yet Trump has easily trampled and dismantled. 

We have revered traditions, institutions, and norms, even ones that have outlived their use, and have become afraid of big changes. Yet here we sit at home, if we are able to and are considerate, forced to change our behavior. We can’t be resigned to not take responsibility now. (I know–doubly negative.) We can’t be resigned and await guidance, hope, support from this so-called POTUS. Our representatives should have called for his resignation, but we have all been too resigned. 

Absent calls for Trump’s resignation, we must confront our own. 

Whine Country

Those who whine that the ones seeking personal, racial, societal, economic, and governmental health are impeding individual liberty, are happy to emulate their loser leader. They feign strength while whining. They feign independence while following conspiracy theories and zombie policies, also while whining.  They feign patriotism, while whining, and insist that they are the true representatives of the country. They keep America grate (and sick). 

Those who protest actual injustice, not merely awful inconvenience and discomfort, are thoughtfully, peacefully, and creatively seeking accountability and new direction. What’s the difference between the seemingly aggrieved constituents? 

Protests (and whining) are designed to call attention to some issue. We have all been affected by the COVID-19 pandemic, some obviously much more than others. The whiners just want to do what they want to do. Who doesn’t?  Everyone wants to get back to work, socializing,  commerce, entertainment, etc. The #BLM and associated movements’ protestors have taught most of the rest of the country (and the world) that the opportunity for health is upon us. We all want to be able to reengage in healthy ways, and we also can’t ignore the systemic injustices that have yielded so much more pain and suffering and death in black communities in this country.  This isn’t whining. This is growing. This is maturing. Even as a novel virus spreads.

The whino-in-chief can’t stop kvetching. He hasn’t started planning or learning anything. His schtick is a Borscht Belt cadence of whining. The best thing to do is tune him out. (Thanks, Mom!)  And vote him and his enablers out, despite all the obstacles!

And the whiners who expose their noses know that they have everyone’s attention. But that’s all. They offer nothing (but potential germs). They whine that everyone else has ruined it for them. They love upsetting their foes (i.e. fellow Americans, albeit not in whine country), as their loser leader does. They are happy to ruin it for others.

2020 Whines:

Flabby. Not very refined. Minerally—like the taste of concrete on the tongue. Dense.  NOT elegant. NOT complex. A hint of lead—like the taste of a pencil. Also like an eraser.

Unpalatable. 

White Lies

Most of my life, upon meeting strangers, I was asked, “What are you?”  Sometimes the question referred to my last name: “Where are you from?” My answer was always honest: “I’m American.”

“No–but where are you FROM?”

I was born here. My parents were born here. My grandparents were born here. My great grandparents….they were from Eastern Europe.”

Already, you might be imagining my hair and facial features. Now you probably assume my complexion. You’re probably pretty close. You also probably have an immediate story in your head about what any and all of that might mean about me. That might be close too, but it’s still a meme that popped into your head. Probably instantaneously. You think you know me because you have already identified me as a certain type. You’re like an instant anthropologist.

We all do these instant assessments, often without thinking. Too often we assume and look for confirmation bias not necessarily because of one’s name or physical features, or even sartorial clues, but because we have assumptions about location, or upbringing, or job, or education, or….

In truth, I have always known what those questions were about, and I was always uncomfortable and a little cheeky in answering. I never thought that the ones who asked me, as an initial greeting, were interested in me as a person. I thought they were interested in whether or not I fit a type, and what that might mean for them. To be fair, upon getting to know people, last names, places of origin etc, may be interesting stories. They can be great connectors. When I was often asked by “others”, I never had the sense that it was an initiation into connecting. I always thought it was to highlight othering. And so, I answered honestly to connect. I’m American. I’m the third generation born here after my great grandparents’ emigration to the U.S., which for many whose families fled or perished in Europe during the World Wars, and in Russia/Soviet Union, that’s quite American. Over a century of American. 

Still,  my complexion didn’t convey a story, and I have always lived with that advantage. As a Caucasian, I was never a threat. I was never perceived as a story first. Maybe I was perceived as a story second, as instant anthropologists do with the clues used to identify and label. But my instantaneous backstory was neutral because my skin is considered neutral—white. 

And here lies the problem that we have all concealed: We can’t be colorblind. In fact, we have been blinded by the White Lie that Civil Rights of the 50s and 60s changed us all for the better. We have progressed. Slavery is so far in the past that it’s as alien to us as the wigs and clothing of the17th, 18th, and 19th centuries. And of course we have progressed in so many ways. But the lagging progress over the last few decades for so many people of color, despite historic breakthroughs including the first Black POTUS, (who happened to be the best POTUS of my lifetime), are still stuck with systemic disparities that have proven over and over again to threaten Black lives.

The White Lies are the ones that tell us that we don’t need to upend the system or disrupt. We have a Disrupter in Chief who seeks to undermine any and every institution and it feels like he is destroying the Democracy and culture of the USA. The White Lies are the ones that say that we are decent and believe everyone deserves opportunity without imagining how our systems have oppressed even with historic changes. 

Our White Lies have told us that the Black Community is separate (and not equal). Our White Lies have told us that White Saviors are not wanted, so support has been less visibly integrated. Our White Lies have told us that we are not racist, yet everyone seems to judge everyone by their complexion. At least we can acknowledge the White Lie that we are not colorblind. 

The White Lie forgets about Red Lining, and Voter Suppression (in 2020!), and health and environmental disparities that disfavor (and endanger) many communities of color.

The White Lie is that what seems like a life of doing what one should and being decent is enough. It ignores the privilege of being on the path at the start. Even from less than optimal circumstances, and for those who have overcome great challenges, the White Lie tells us that there’s no difference between challenges to overcome. 

The great shock of this moment is twofold: One is the heinousness with which police brutality has killed black men and women and kids across this country because they were black, especially in the 21st century when the White Lie was that we were so far beyond this barbaric behavior. The second shock is that so many of the people with whom I went to high school and college have posted of their own experiences of driving while black; walking while black; raising black children to be safe. I was floored. I had no idea that people who lived in my world—in a late 20th Century/21st century comfortable, progressive world—were subjected to not just such indignities, but life threatening situations.

The White Lie of the middle and upper middle class (and beyond) is that everyone is safe if they just do the right thing. My heart aches at this White Lie that we are confronting now. 

Like the Women’s Movement that #MeToo alerted everyone to say “ENOUGH!”, and shocked everyone that in this day and age, we are not as far along the path of progress as we hoped or thought, #BLM has touched us to stand together to say “ENOUGH!” 

We understand that trolls are a fact of life, not an old tale. They lurk in the shadows and feed off baiting others. We also have learned that Zombies exist. They linger among us with dead ideas feeding off of us. Monsters exist. The White Lies have told us that they have been beaten forever. We see with our own eyes that monsters are tolerated until we stand together to squash them. 

We have changed our culture from time to time. We have overcome horrible pandemics, and endured horrific losses along the way.  I often think about how the culture of smoking has changed so radically in my lifetime. And Gay Marriage! That was unthinkable, until it wasn’t. Despite the very real fears and dangers of the dual pandemics of COVID19 and Racism in 2020, I also see the creativity and strength that are emerging. We can acknowledge the White Lies and monsters among us, and reimagine how we want to protect and serve our communities—all our selves. 

The Future

The future was open, busy, individual, 24/7. The future was scheduled, patterned, abundant, better. The future was crowded, but moving. The future was fresh and free, hectic and hopeful. 

The future was vacations, concerts, sports, movies, meetings, appointments, graduations, weddings, funerals. 

The future was predictable, mathematical, scientific, masterful. It was logical, creative, rich, and user-friendly. The future was applicable, identifiable, improvable, and personal.

The future was about each one, but really no one. It included fear and anger, histories of oppression and resentment, inequalities, and bigotries. But in the future, each person could be rich. Or on a path. Or connected. 

The future was bifurcated. The future was media driven. The future was about social influencers and fake news. The future was artificial intelligence and egos. The future was angry, manipulative, power-hungry, and lazy.

The future paid the least to people who teach kids and nurse the ailing; those whotake care of our youngest, oldest, and neediest; police and firefighters, EMTs—those who respond first; those who work diligently not for profit; and the artists who enrich our culture and inner lives. The future ignored those who pick our food; process our food; serve our food; deliver our food; allow us to buy our food and whatever stuff we want whenever we want. 

The future decided that guns are essential rights and that the market is the most essential. The future was a struggle for affordable healthcare that was too big to handle. The future forgot the basics, because everyone had a megaphone and a platform to distort.

The future was distorted, but was constant opportunity. The future was streaming what we wanted whenever we wanted, and we could ignore the junk. But there was an abundance of junk in the future. 

The future was an increasing environmental disaster resulting from climate change. The future was not a moment, a specific crisis, so we ignored what was not seemingly imminent. The future was more building, and much more stuff. 

The future was for each person to breathe and be anywhere. We didn’t think about separation in the future. Or distance. The future was possessive. The future was. 

Thank You Notes

Thank you, President Trump, for your assuredness early on in the COVID19 pandemic, as it began in the USA. What a relief it was to know that you could declare that this was just like the flu. No big deal. 

Thank you, President Trump, for reminding us that, “One day, it’s like a miracle. It’s going to disappear.” We should all live so long.

Thank you, President Trump, for letting us know that, “Anyone who wants a test can get one.” Well, nobody really WANTS to get that COVID19 test, right?

Thank you, President Trump, for announcing that, “A vaccine will be available soon.” 18 months is not that long. I mean an 18 month old is still a baby.  

Thank you, President Trump, for asserting that the US was “the most prepared country in the world.” I’m sure we were; just not since 2016.

Thank you, President Trump, for suggesting that this novel Coronavirus was a Democrat hoax, distraction, attempt to undermine your presidency. Your instincts are truly consistent. We can count on you to remind us of other awfulness, at any moment for any reason.

Thank you, President Trump, for closely watching the stock market plummet while COVID19 cases and deaths continue to rise exponentially. Now we have a two-front war.

Thank you, President Trump, for calling yourself a “Wartime President”. I was thinking of some other names. 

Thank you, President Trump, for your daily briefings. They are anything but brief, and barely informative, since the next one introduces a different protocol than previously suggested. Your omnipresence is hard to miss. I feel like I have a front row seat at one of your rallies. 

Thank you, President Trump, for mentioning Governor Cuomo in New York, and Governor Newsom in California and that woman in Michigan. So many governors.

Thank you, President Trump, for acknowledging your status as #1 on Facebook. WOW! I can’t begin to imagine how many hits that means.

Thank you, President Trump, for exemplifying family values and showing confidence in your do-it-all-son-in-law, Jared Kushner. You understand better than anyone, that youth, unencumbered by mastery, experience, or any success, gives a pandemic a new look. His understanding of the separation of Federal and State stuff is really amazing. When he said, “…Our stockpile” is not for state use, he must have meant that the federal stockpile is intended to supplement the states’ needs. See, he gets it. We have so much yet to learn!

Thank you, President Trump, for insisting on “regular” voting—none of this mail in ballot stuff. Changing anything now would be so difficult. I know you want to see a Democratic Convention this summer.  I’m sure you would love to see people go to their regular polling places in November. Your commitment to keeping America great (again) is always on full display. 

Prepare For Good Luck

I always prepare for good luck. Now, we are all truly preparing for good luck. My fear, aside from loved ones becoming sick with COVID19, and an even more unmanageable situation in hospitals and throughout, is that we begin to fear one another even more than we did. I fear that the virus will be a brand, like HIV-AIDS was. Despite the more ubiquitousness of COVID19, people who are not (yet) sick, may have a false sense not only of security, but of ability.

I fear that people may begin to regard those who are sick and not in the most vulnerable demographics as being worthy of condemnation or suspicion, merely for becoming sick. I fear the original usage of social distancing. I fear our loss of compassion just as we were beginning to find some. 

There is much to fear at this moment, as so much is beyond our control. While attempting to stay informed, I confess that I protect my fragile psyche with not entertaining thoughts about the looming disaster while still doing whatever I can within reason to ensure comfort and endurance, at least for the next couple of weeks at a time. It’s all I can do. (That, and utter gratitude for all that I have.)

I have always felt incredibly lucky. That doesn’t mean that there has never been effort or challenge. Of course there has been plenty, like anyone else, and I know that pain and suffering—physical and mental–are debilitating. Too often I have been fearful, which is its own form of pain and suffering, and exacerbates all conditions. It distorts and diminishes possibility. It infects on top of infections. And when fear arises within me, I feel powerless.

I am not unafraid of the possibilities of bad luck in this time of COVID19, but I am not particularly afraid. That could change at any time, of course, but now I am mostly afraid of fear (thank you, FDR), and what suffering it causes. 

Much has already been acknowledged about how much has been laid bare as we are scrambling to prepare for good luck across the globe, but especially across the USA. The crisis will not be forever, but who knows how long temporary is? The dire prospects are most unsettling, even imagining the aftermath. As we have seen before, the possibility of compassion and responsibility redefining us as we meet this novel virus is upon us. There is also the possibility of being overwhelmed by fear and losing our greatest strength, our compassion.

We are social beings who can’t be social right now. Our social distancing is, ironically, a way to be social while attempting to mitigate exposure to the virus. As we are beginning to meet this challenge and be prepared, prepare to dig deep to mitigate fear. Be compassionate to yourself and others, and prepare for good luck. 

Our Lady

What a week! It is Good Friday today and Passover Eve tonight, following the release of the somewhat redacted Mueller Report, which followed the Barr Presser/Spinner. Earlier in the week we were aghast as we watched much of Notre Dame engulfed in flames. 

I know you are still digesting the Mueller Report, and perhaps anticipating family and religious celebrations this weekend, but think a bit about the extreme events and emotions of this week.

We shared sadness while watching Notre Dame burn, and relief over what didn’t burn. While much was discussed about the incredible history of the cathedral, and the brilliance of architecture and art that it represented as well as religion, the burning emblem of Western Civilization seemed metaphoric to me. 

What was painstakingly built from a breathtaking idea, with mastery, knowledge, beauty, reverence, guidance,  for the public for the ages, was burning down. To some, the story was the raging fire; to others it was about the remains and rebuilding. It was not only about Notre Dame. It was about our lady as well.

We have been losing our Democracy for some time. It has been in serious need of repair. Then, as though engulfed in an uncontrollable fire, we’ve been watching with horror as “norms” that have buttressed our Democracy have been burned down. In our case, it’s been arson.

Yes, we can save much,  and we can rebuild. And we shall. But the embers are still sizzling here, and some are even reigniting.  

We need more of the lady-ness, not the raging. More than a statue of liberty, we need our lady, our elegant Democracy, to be restored and renewed and built for a healthier future. Whatever your celebration, I hope you are inspired toward participation. And Vote! It’s the most Ladylike thing you can do. 

 

Same Year Next Time

Every New Year we decide to create the past. The year that was is no longer an ongoing saga, but something that happened. That was then. Now becomes the future. This year is a wish; a hope; maybe an intention. 

When we are in a positive mood looking toward the possibilities of the new year, we accentuate the favorable, as though we know how to conquer the negative now.

We look back at what went wrong, and how we were oppressed and/or depressed, and vow to do differently going forward. 

We celebrate surviving that which terrified us or traumatized us, or whatever we had to get through, and imagine not having to face such situations again, because time is on our side now.

We look at History and compare and contrast to previous moments, characters, and events. We  think this time will be different. It’s so many years (decades, centuries,….) hence; we are better. 

We like to believe that we have progressed to the extent that basic human qualities—the ones that tend to drive history—have been mastered. And yet, in each generation, the dramas are reenacted. 

We believe we bury the past with the promise of each new year. Somehow though, Zombies walk among us. The fascist from a century ago; the Nazi; the homophobe; the misogynist; the racist; the ones who seemed to be not of this era, but who desperately want to redefine it in some retro-limited way.  How is this possible? Isn’t time progressive? Isn’t Evolution ultimately positive transformation?

When anger, resentment, ignorance, and other negative emotions arise in conditions that breed negativity, historical moments seem to repeat themselves. Is it 1919? Is it 1939? is it 1968? Is it 1974? When will we have the next Katrina? Will we have another  9-11 soon?

Of course it is helpful to have historical markers—to remind ourselves and learn the lessons of History. We forget too quickly and assume that progress and evolution don’t have to be reinforced. Ignorance isn’t merely lack of acquisition of information and knowledge. It is lack of awareness. It is also a lack of inclusive thought. 

We don’t have to relive previous years in the next year. We have learned quite a bit about how to progress and how to persist to overcome the inevitable setbacks (and worse). We can use those historic markers to inspire bigger thinking. We have an even clearer picture of the threats and bile and just negative aspects of human nature (and Mother Nature) now. But we have always progressed by nurturing the best and creating anew. The regressive, negative aspects will always challenge us, but we don’t have to think like it’s the same year next time. 

It’s 2019!! Happy NEW Year! 

Hearing Impaired

We watched the Kavanaugh Hearing and listened. What did you hear? I felt sick watching and listening to Dr. Blasey Ford’s testimony. She has been carrying this awful trauma for most of her life. Her bravery and authenticity were matched by her humble dignity and kindness. She was guileless. She may not have been aware of her impact. One need not have endured an assault like the one she did to have one’s heart open and also harden. Why do humans have to endure torture?

There is a particular heinousness to sexual assault, but any assault to anyone is horrific. Dr. Blasey Ford’s trembling, gentle voice resonated both excruciating pain and kindness.  Her education and professionalism were evidenced by her elucidating scientific explanation of how trauma and memory work and manifest, not by mentioning her resume. We heard her, and felt anguish.

Judge Kavanaugh bellowed and protested throughout his hearing. One can certainly feel compassion for a man who has prepared for years for the Supreme job, (or any job), and for having his name smeared in the media without evidence. He has a family too. He was irate and rude, and even in his contempt for the other party and whatever conspiracy he thinks is out to get him and cause pain to his family, I never heard him mention the pain caused to Dr. Blasey Ford’s family.

I heard a lot of yelling and overt disrespect to the senators whose job was to interview him. I heard talking points and bullying. I heard a familiar script. I heard anger and stoking distrust and fear. I listened for that which would make this nominee worthy of being a Supreme Court Justice. How could someone who throws a tantrum throughout the Hearing be able to listen with an open mind to Supreme cases? How could someone who begins by declaring a left wing conspiracy and a Democrat smear campaign, yelling with venom, be impartial?

Then there was the bizarre situation of the calm prosecutor hired by the Republican senators on the committee to question Dr. Blasey Ford, while Lindsey Graham let loose during the Kavanaugh half. It was mind boggling, and embarrassing for us as a country.

The Senate confirmation hearings have been akin to Kabuki Theater for decades, but this was beyond excruciating for Americans . We heard testimony and felt pain and outrage at what people (especially women) must endure, mostly in silence. When the silence is broken, the real victim is further victimized. The powerful male claiming to be a victim is quite a spectacle. The goal isn’t to tear down powerful (white) men. The goal is authenticity and accountability.  We heard personal pain and outrage by the witnesses, but watched a very impaired hearing. 

I’m sure I’m not alone in feeling this reckoning with so much that is wrong with us, and how much unnecessary pain is inflicted. This week has been particularly difficult to be an American. It has been difficult to be a woman. I have such pain that isn’t my own story. I ache for all of us. The bully playbook is so obvious and works temporarily. It’s also obvious who listens and who can’t even hear. 

We deserve much better than the tone deaf politics and noise that have impaired all of us. 

Omarosa! (To the tune of Oklahoma!)

Oooooooh….Omarosa, the apprentice winning

Trump’s own game.

She’s got a book to sell

Some tapes that tell

That a lying, racist White House

Is to blame.

Oooooooh….Omarosa wants to blow the whistle 

Starting now.

She was fine before

Going through the door

Of The Oval and The Sit Room

Who knows how?

(interlude)

We know that she’s mostly a sham.

And, like Trump, she’s a media ham.

But when we saaaaaaaaaa AY

Om-a-rosa’s news todaaaaaaaa AY

We really know that

It’s President Trump’s 

Omarosa.

Protege.