We watched Olivia Pope have an abortion right in front of us, with Silent Night playing in the background; it was unsettling, right? Not just for the irony of the Christmas soundtrack, but also because the song’s “mother and child” were themselves unwelcome. There’s more to these sorts of moments than pretty, sort of symbolic, Christmas music. As usual with Olivia, the truth is complicated.
“Family is the only thing that has kept you alive here.” Huck tells his captive, Olivia’s father Eli. But Eli argues that family doesn’t save us, it’s an “antidote to greatness.” “Family doesn’t complete you, it destroys you” he says.
For Olivia though, destruction is the inevitable outcome of the the stolid White House life, the outfits entombed in the Presidential bedroom, the so-called fairytale life of a First Lady, her very real prison. We see she manages her performance well; we need to know that for her choice to make sense. No she wasn’t leaving because she wasn’t good at First Lady-ing. A bird (even a successful one) in a gilded cage is still locked up.
We always knew (and some of us hoped) that she’d go. Fitz’s questionable worthiness, not withstanding, she had to get out o there! Her life, however twisted, said so much to all of us and taught us this – that this is possible: Olivia Pope doesn’t do shotgun, she drives the car!
Even so, a woman of such stature who had surrendered so much, couldn’t walk away without an amputation – metaphorical – but real too. Alone, telling no one, she chooses to end a pregnancy that no one knows exists. It’s hers. Hers to keep, or not. Hers to speak about, or not. And so as she leaves her pregnancy behind her, so too she leaves a life that has been confining almost to the point of trauma.
As fiercely pro-choice but also a baby addict, I find I surprise myself as I write this. I feel, I see, I know that sometimes choices I’d fight not to have to make myself are life and soul-saving for another.
Eli’s meditation on family is either a counterpoint or a validation of his daughter’s decision. Like the decision itself, it depends on who’s watching. From over here where I am, she made the right choice (because, after all, she had a choice) the right way. Would that every women had the power, and the money, and the access, to do the same.
This post was supposed to be about the budget cuts that have allegedly wiped out Civics education, supposed to wonder how Americans could know their rights – and those of others – if they’d never even been given baseline knowledge.
Here’s what I was going to say:
American schools used to require a class called “civics.” Every kid learned about elections and government and bicameral legislatures and the Constitution. Separation of powers. Federalism. States rights. And the Constitution. The Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island (give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free…) and — wait for it — the Constitution.
Education has always been, at its best, a tool to advance a civil society. And Civics made it work. We all thought it was dumb and boring and they gave us a terrible teacher who couldn’t be fired but we did learn the basics – enough to know, for example, that you can’t set religious limits on immigration or anything else in the United States of America!
OK all that’s true. BUT it turns out that we DO have Civics education, just not much. It just doesn’t work. According to US News and World Report:
At present, more than 90 percent of U.S. high school grads get a semester in civics and at least a year of U.S. history. But something is clearly not sticking. A Xavier University study showed that while 97.5 percent of those applying for citizenship pass the test, only two out of three Americans can do the same.
The test they’re talking about is the 100 question exam immigrants to the US have to pass to become US citizens. Their passing rate is 97.5% Among the rest of us, it’s only 66%! Since basic citizenship knowledge is what sustains our social contract, losing 1/3 of our citizens is kind of awful. Here’s more from US News:
It’s hard to overstate just how poor is the average American student’s grasp of civics and history — or how badly we need to breathe life into civics in our schools. The most recent National Assessment of Educational Progress showed about one-third of American eighth-graders scored at or about proficiency in reading, math and science. But those are robust numbers compared to civics and history, where 22 percent scored at that level. But we needn’t worry about those embarrassing scores any more. In 2013, the National Assessment of Education Progress, perhaps believing ignorance is bliss, announced that the civics and history tests, historically given in the fourth, eighth and 12th grades, would only be administered from now on in the 8th grade.
In 2009, Retired Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O’Connor founded iCivics to promote the need for better Civics training. There are other groups too. But we sure aren’t making any progress. Todays immigration battle demonstrates the level of ignorance of, and reluctance to learn the basic tenets of a democratic government; it’s deeply troubling.
Try to watch the current “dangerous refugee and besides they’re Muslim” battle going on now and disagree!
The bombing and the shootings happened blocks from this, the Canal St. Martin. We took a boat ride down the Canal in June – from one end to the other. It was a ridiculously hot day but cool, beautiful, and peaceful on the water, with plenty of tempting activity along the shore.
Parisians relax on a lazy summer Sunday along Canal St. Martin.
Described as one of the “new cool” Parisian neighborhoods, it lived up to its reputation. Bankside restaurants were jammed on a Sunday afternoon, joined by popup boutiques and plenty of energy.
From our boat, one of the bridges that cross the Canal: a great view for us, and for those on the shore.
It was my favorite stop of this visit to Paris; so great to be in a place that really belonged to the locals and had that feeling great neighborhoods always do.
Although the beauty remains, residents have been violated and punished. It doesn’t compare to the violence and death inflicted upon so many, but it’s just so damn sad.
Donald Trump is important. Maybe he’s channeling Huey Long, maybe Lonesome Rhodes, maybe just “the Donald,” but despite his xenophobia and thinly veiled racist take on immigrants, he has spun a new American dream and captured those who have been without one for a long time.
Despite those excluded, whom Ta-Nehesi Coates describes so well, the belief that the dream exists is a gigantic part of the American story even though, for many, it’s faded from view. Today, in the shadow of the attacks in Paris, I wonder whether his message will thrive or wither in the face of such horror and fear.
With all that in mind, what does Trump have to do with John Valjean? What did the story mean to Jack Kemp (there’s a new biography ) and Teddy Kennedy (there’s a new book about him, too) both of whom, from opposite parties and ideologies, saw Les Miz multiple times? Can what spoke to them teach or maybe comfort us as we recoil from another bloody revolution in the streets of Paris? Tell me that this* is not what they – and we – are feeling today.
This little boy is now a father, but when he was six, we took him, along with his brother, to see Les Miz. At the end, he dissolved in my lap in tears, a wise child who understood, as so many do, especiallu today, what we may have lost and must struggle to recover? Listen and then, you decide.
*When Les Miz opened in New York, both Teddy Kennedy and Jack Kemp saw it multiple times. It might have been about a revolution, but it was everyone’s revolution:
Do you hear the people sing?
Singing a song of angry men?
It is the music of a people
Who will not be slaves again!
When the beating of your heart
Echoes the beating of the drums
There is a life about to start
When tomorrow comes!
Will you join in our crusade?
Who will be strong and stand with me?
Beyond the barricade
Is there a world you long to see?
Then join in the fight that will give you
The right to be free!
Like most of us, I don’t think I’ve felt like this since 9/11, although Paris may feel scary in a different way because the scope and savvy of ISIS makes Al Qaeda look primitive in comparison.
I spend hours on the Web every day, and probably understand the reach, creativity and strategic smarts of ISIS outreach more than most of my peers. It’s kind of amazing that people committed to such a regressive lifestyle are so adept at using modern methods to build it. They’ve been using Twitter, Whatsapp and other basic tools for some time but even though I raised two gamers, it never occurred to me until I heard it this morning that online game consoles are great, almost invisible, ISIS communication tools.
There have been hints though, in our popular culture. Portraits of these tactics have appeared in TV shows as disparate in audience as NCIS and The Good Wife: plots about the online recruiting American teenagers for homegrown violence and about exploiting western commitment to privacy and free speech and thought, as well as the seemingly insurmountable gap between the world that nurtures these terrorists and the world we have tried to create for our own kids.
Of course, that dissonance means nothing if your goal is to return us all to a particularly fierce, and very old, version of holiness. It’s so sad to note, too, that our wonderful technology is once again taking us away from all we’d hope it would be.
Cate Blanchett as Producer Mary Mapes, Robert Redford as Dan RatherRachel McAdams, Michael Keaton, Mark Ruffalo, Lev Schreiver, and Brian D’arcy James as the Pulitzer Prize winning Boston Globe team
The ultimate goal of every great reporter is to find a terrific story that nobody else has, and report it. Right now, released almost simultaneously, are not one, but two movies about journalism and how it works. In one, eagerness to tell the tale combined with politics to destroy the story, and several stellar careers. In the other, universal caution and the power of the establishment combined in efforts to do the same. Based on true stories,Truth and Spotlight portray, with fierce and sometimes heartbreaking commitment, the professional, ethical and political challenges every good reporter faces.
Each features a wonderful cast: in Spotlight, Mark Ruffalo, Michael Keaton, Rachel McAdams, Liev Schreiber, John Slattery, and Stanley Tucci; in Truth, Cate Blanchett, Robert Redford, Topher Grace, Dennis Quaid, Elizabeth Moss, Bruce Greenwood and Stacy Keach. They’re all great.
Both stories beautifully illustrate the adventure, pain, excitement, drudgery and teamwork required in the service of a seriously reported story. Although Spotlight is a far better film, the familiar TV-ness of Truth, as Dan Rather and his 60 Minutes production team, pursue the “George W. Bush Went AWOL from the National Guard” story made it particularly heartbreaking for me. I emerged agitated and halfway out of breath.
It’s was just so sad to witness great work sidelined not by corporate politics or even overt censorship but by small decisions made in service of a great story and a tight deadline. All good journalists understand the importance of this: “If you don’t have time to check one more way, or listen to the person who still has reservations, the story shouldn’t air; if it’s about the President of the United States, even airtight isn’t good enough.” Eager to get on the air and armed with several good pieces of evidence, Mapes insisted the story was ready though – and so it aired.
In this case, although the story was never proven to be false, challenges to errors or lack of clarity in several small details (which were indeed careless or at least a product of selective listening) provided enough ammunition to cost both Rather and Mapes their jobs. In each case the removal was deeply humiliating. Knowing what was coming, it was agony to witness, especially when the entire editorial process was so familiar and the problem elements stood out so clearly.
Spotlight, again drawn from a true story, followed reporters uncovering the child sex abuse scandal in the Catholic Church, revealed by the Boston Globe’s investigative unit the “Spotlight” team at the Boston Globe. In this case, the adversary wasn’t the White House and all the weapons at its disposal, Rather, it was one of the few institutions with more power: the Catholic Church and its hold over Boston and the Globe, whose readers were 56% Catholic as were much of the editorial staff.
Piece by piece, through roadblocks and threats, the team pulled the story of the abusive priests together, with victims on the record, only to be confronted by their new editor, who wasn’t satisfied that this information alone would bring change:
Show me that the church manipulated the system so that these guys wouldn’t have to face charges. Show me they put those same priests back into parishes time and time again. Show me this was systemic, that came from the top down.”
So they did. And their story rocked the Church worldwide. Literally.
To arrive there though, team members had to deal not only with the pain of the victims and horror of the story but also with their own relationships with the Church. That wasn’t just deep connection or lapsed faith, but also an emotional and spiritual system internalized by these longtime-Boston journalists as they grew up their very Catholic hometown.
In this case though, a combination of fierce commitment and great editorial guidance allowed them to resolve any questions that might arise before their initial story ran. They ended up writing hundreds. And won the Pulitzer Prize.
So. Two news movies. Both worth the time and money it will take to see them. Together they bring us perfect lessons: this is what happens when newsgathering doesn’t live up to the tough standards required of the profession, and these are the remarkable things that can happen when it does.
The first version of this post appeared in August of last year, just 15 months ago. (Ironically, Ferguson is only 2 hours from Colombia, MO, home of the University of Missouri. ) Much of that year’s BlogHer had dealt with intersectionality; Ferguson demonstrated how much I didn’t know and how much I could learn from listening to friends of color both on Facebook and on their blogs.
Well – the posts connected to what’s been happening at Yale and U. Missouri illustrate that all the more. I’m going to leave that earlier post but just so it’s clear what I mean, here one from a professor that circulated in the past week.
Listen, I need you to understand what I’m about to say. This is what I taught the students at Morehouse last week.
2015 is not what we thought it was. The deadliest hate crime against Black folk in the past 75 years happened THIS YEAR in Charleston.
More unarmed Black folk have been killed by police THIS YEAR than were lynched in any year since 1923.
Never, in the history of modern America, have we seen Black students in elementary, middle, and high school handcuffed and assaulted by police IN SCHOOL like we have seen this year.
Black students, who pay tuition are leaving the University of Missouri campus right now because of active death threats against their lives.
If you EVER wondered who you would be or what you would do if you lived during the Civil Rights Movement, stop. You are living in that time, RIGHT NOW. Shaun King
One of the bloggers I admire most is Kelly Wickham, who writes Mocha Momma. I “met” her online 7 years ago because she was a reading specialist and, as the parent of a dyslexic child, I was so grateful for the committed, loving, determined way she wrote about her work. I kind of stalked her in comments until we met at BlogHer in 2007. (Actually I also stalked her after that, too, but at least by then she knew who I was.)
She writes, with honesty and rage, about race. About family, and love, and education and whatever else occurs to her, but also about race. I’ve learned a lot from her, including how much I didn’t know. As the years have passed, and more women of color have joined BlogHer and Kelly’s Facebook feed, I’ve learned from others, too. The BlogHer community grew and widened, and with it the gut understanding of the whole community. On our blogs we tell the truth, and the different truths shared by the bloggers who are now a part of my life have been an immeasurable gift.
Of course it is beyond wrong that, in 2014, we still have to seek diversity, to go out of our way to learn lessons we should have learned long ago, and that those most in pain still experience so much that we haven’t figured out how to learn.
The trouble is that there hasn’t been nearly enough intersection between us and those experiencing the harshest emotions that emerge in response to American racism.
I remember once talking with author Vertamae Smart-Grosvenor, who said to me “Don’t you see, we black mothers must be lionesses to protect our sons.” I thought of her statement often as I was raising my own.
I remember a colleague describing to me, when we were both pregnant, her fear of the first time someone called her not-yet-born child a “n*$%#&r” – of what she would say to him, what she would do.
But despite having African-American colleagues and friends, I’m not sure I ever, until these past days, completely heard the depth of anger and despair that lives within so many.
It’s not that I didn’t know; most people I know care about and have seen plenty of racial injustice and have worked, in our own ways, to change it. But that’s different from opening someone else’s door and walking in. It’s on fire in there. And it should be.
Listen to these:
Everyone can’t stand up the moment something pisses the off and we’re all different in how we react. Some people shut down because they don’t even know where to start. Some people just need a nudge to be emboldened to speak. Some people need to know they’re needed before they speak.
Well if you need that nudge, here it is. If you’re afraid because you don’t want to say the wrong thing, push past that fear. Because right now, your silence about the continued devaluation of Black lives is wrong. Your lack of acknowledgement is not ok. If you need tips before speaking out here’s 3: don’t blame the person who was killed. Don’t say you’re color-blind. Acknowledge the racism at play.
Speaking up when it matters is usually when it’s also the hardest. When your voice shakes, that’s when you’re standing in truth. But that’s usually when it is most needed. And when you do it, someone else might be encouraged to do the same. Do not be silent. Awesomely Luvvie
I am outraged but I do not know what to do with my outrage that might be productive, that might move this world forward toward a place where black lives matter, and where black parents no longer need to have “the talk” with their children about how not to be killed by police and where anger over a lifetime of wrongs is not judged, but understood and supported. Roxanne Gay
Black bodies matter. Black bodies matter. Black bodies matter. Say it with me: Black bodies matter. This isn’t a question. This isn’t a euphemism. This isn’t an analogy. This is a fact. Black cis and trans boys, girls, men, and women and non-binary folks, they all matter. Until that fact becomes a universal truth due to the precise liberty and justice the Constitution of this country promises, I won’t stop fighting and neither should you. Jenn M. Jackson
But it wasn’t what I could see and hear as Ferguson residents fled and were pursued into residential areas that gave me chills. It was what I couldn’t see. Because behind the walls of those smoke-shrouded homes were parents comforting their frightened children. I couldn’t see them, but I knew they were there. They could have been me. They could have been my children.Kymberli Barney for Mom 2.0
This is what I need, dear friend.
I need to know that you are not merely worried about this most tragic of worst case scenarios befalling my son; I need to know that you are out there changing the ethos that puts it in place. That you see this as something that unites us as mothers, friends and human beings.
My son needs me, as much as yours needs you. Sadly, my son needs me more. He needs someone to have his back, when it seems that the police, the men he’d wave to with excitement as a little boy, see him as a being worthy only of prison or death.
This is where the story gets tricky. This is where our son paced up and down the stairs—in his under shirt, gym shorts and crew socks—telling us about the police who came to our door and handcuffed our son and pulled him outside. “Why?” It was the only question I could come up with — “why?”
His hands ran over his face and found each other behind his head. I knew this look too. The one of lost words—of previous trauma—of discouragement.
“I don’t know. There’s some robberies in the area? I guess? And they saw me here—I don’t know. They thought it was me. They thought it was me and wouldn’t listen. They didn’t believe me that this was my house.”
He shook his head and looked at me. “It didn’t even matter that I had a key, moms.” Elora Nicole
For each of these there are dozens and dozens more. No more to say.
Ruth Bader Ginsburg is an enormously compelling figure. How do I know this? Authors Irin Carmon and Shana Knizhnik have given us the gift of this book, that’s how. Described by the New York Times as “a cheery curio, as if a scrapbook and the Talmud decided to have a baby,” it is a lively, engrossing, humanizing introduction to a revered figure.
Born in 1933, six years before World War II, she remains, at 82, very much a part of our present, and our future. Hers are the shoulders so many of us stand upon, proud of what we’ve fought for for today’s young women and men, parents and professionals, teachers, truckers and temps — all of it so much less than she faced down and conquered. For all of us.
Beyond the exploration of her remarkable intellect and judicial virtuosity, Carmon reveals the warmth, spirit and personal moments that transform an icon into a person. Her unlikely close friendship not only with Justice Scalia but also with his family, is intriguing, of course. The genuine partnership she shared with her husband Mary for 56 years is a unifying thread through much of the book; the story of his last days one of the most moving.
Of course, threaded through the narrative are the legal and policy changes she championed and often brought from idea to reality — and, in recent years, fought, not always successfully, against the reversal of some of them. From her days at Harvard Law School to those on the O’Connor Court, the impact of her passion and intellect is clear.
So. If you want to have fun and be inspired at the same time, or need a gift for anyone who cares about women, or law and policy, or just loves a great story, this is it. (Full disclosure: I DO know Irin but I never expected to write about the book until I read it. Couldn’t help myself….)
Meet the Forward 50 – fifty Jewish Americans designated worthy of special attention as 2015 draws to a close. That “Forward” in “The Forward 50?” It’s The Jewish Daily Forward. A newspaper founded in 1897 as a Yiddish language publication, it has also published in English for the past 25 years, won a ton of awards, and at one time in the 1920’s had a larger circulation than the New York Times!
Every year, most likely as circulation-building clickbait, the paper publishes a list of fifty Jews who are “deeply, loudly and passionately embedded in some of the most pressing political and social issues in the nation.”
Not so unusual, but I was pleased to see that nearly half (21) were women so I decided see who they are, and they’re pretty interesting and modern.
Two of their “Top 5” are women, one an academic, one a star: Princeton professor and newly minted MacArthur “genius” Marina Rustow – who is also the first Jewish Studies person to receive a MacArthur — and our own beloved Amy Schumer.
Four of the six “Activists” are women: Rachel Sklar and her daughter Ruby, Emma Sulkowitcz who carried a mattress – everywhere – through her last years at Columbia University to protest the school’s inaction in her rape allegations. Ruth Messinger, long-time crusader and organizer, who in the 17 years she spent running the United Jewish Word Service, “created a uniquely Jewish way to promote economic and gender equality in the developed world” and street harassment activist Shoshana Roberts .
In general, this is a varied, original and exciting list. Twenty-one of 50 isn’t perfect but what’s kind of cool is how many of these women are closer to the edge not just of Jewish culture but the culture of the US generally. Which is nice, given the battles going on in some other Jewish institutions.
1950 is the year the first Black student enrolled at the University of Missouri.
“We have to do it on our own, Cindy. You can’t help anymore.” She said it gently, but it was pretty painful. I’d been involved in campus civil rights advocacy since I’d arrived as a freshman in 1964, just a little bit more than a year after the March on Washington. Now it was the fall of 1966 and we were back from summer vacation.
I was early for the first action meeting of the year and ran into my friend Cheryl on the steps. I started to ask about plans for the year and she shook her head — then told me that the Black students on campus had decided to build from within their own community. It was kind of “thanks but no thanks.” I was sad, but not angry – I knew what she was saying and as much as I wanted to be part of what they were doing, I understood their desire to act independently.
That was almost 50 years agoand still students of color are forced to demand respect, rather than assume it. This time, at least, they got it.
My sister Pittsburgher Dr. Goddess sums up: “The Movement we just witnessed was intersectional, humanist, gendered, Black-led and labor-fed. Celebrate the Vision!” #Mizzou
OH – and because we should always seek the wisdom of Dave Zirin in moments like these,, take a look at this thoughtful meditation on racial justice AND the power of student athletes.
