freedom – Don't Gel Too Soon

Paris to Strawberry Fields to City Hall: Needing Each Other

It was impossible to watch Sunday’s enormous march through traumatized Paris with any detachment; events that touch us all invariably drive us to gather, so we felt it too. Stating the obvious, certainly, but, as I grow older and my inventory of remembered public sadness grows — JFK, Martin Luther King, Bobby Kennedy, Oklahoma City, 9/11 — it remains remarkable.

I am somewhere in this crowd, gathered for a vigil and moment of silence six days after the assassination of John Lennon. Imagine all the people, living life in peace he wrote. Grief and anger at his loss drew us then, as, so many years later, grief and anger summoned the people of Paris.

I am somewhere in this crowd, too: another Sunday, in 2014, 34 years later. We’re in San Francisco, not Paris, but once more have come together, a continent and an ocean away from the millions in France. We too mourn, and rage, and join together for comfort — but look. Thirty four years later, John Lennon is still present, asking the same questions, demanding, even as we mourn, that we do better.

Audrey Hepburn, Gregory Peck and Roman Holiday: a Political Lesson? No, Really.

It was a fairy tale about a princess on a journey. Doing her duty, kind of like Diana (but, since she was played by Audrey Hepburn, even classier,) she came to Rome, after Athens, London and Paris, to conclude her mission.

But she was young and beautiful and sick of receptions and parades. And so, in the middle of the night, she snuck out the embassy window and ventured across the Piazza di Spagna and into the Roman night.

If you know this movie at all, you remember with sweet nostalgia the way you felt the first time you saw it. The princess asleep near the Trevi Fountain on the Roman equivalent of a park bench is awakened, like Sleeping Beauty, by reporter Joe Bradley, played by Gregory Peck. ( If the film has a flaw, it’s that we know some of what will happen once we see him there. He’s a good guy and that’s who he plays. He is Atticus Finch, after all.)
The film was released in 1953, right in the middle of the 1950’s. Written by Dalton Trumbo, “Roman Holiday” was credited to a “front” named Ian McLellan Hunter, because Trumbo, blacklisted as a member of the Hollywood Ten, wasn’t permitted to write for movies any longer. It’s one of the darkest chapters in Hollywood history, very much a part of the image of the decade and a sad facet of a beloved film that won three Oscars and introduced the world to Audrey Hepburn.
There’s something else though. The people in this film behave well. There are things that they want, desperately, but there are principals at stake, and they honor them. When Peck meets Hepburn, he doesn’t recognize her but lets her crash at his apartment. Once he figures out who she is, he knows this “runaway” could be the story of his life. Even so, after a brief, idyllic tour of the city, (SPOILER ALERT) she honors her responsibilities and returns to her royal duties, and of course, he never writes the story. It was very much an artifact of the
“Greatest Generation” ideals, manifested with such courage during
WWII and very much the flip side of the jaundiced (and just as accurate) Mad Men view of the 50’s. Duty and honor trump romance and ambition.

Once again, I’m struck with admiration for the people of these times. Yes the 50’s did terrible damage and made it difficult to be eccentric or rebellious or even creative. But films like this one, or Now Voyager and similar films of the 40’s, sentimental as they may be, remind us of what else these people were. They’d lived through the Depression and the war and they had an elevated sense of responsibility. As we watch much of our government (and some of the rest of us) disintegrate into partisanship and self-interest, it makes a lot more sense than it did when we rose up against it all in the 1960’s. Doesn’t it?

Farewell to Judith Krug – and Thanks from All of Us (Readers, Libarians, Kids, Computer Users and Gamers — Yes, Gamers)

You’re looking at a heroine here, a tireless advocate of “freedom to read” and the First Amendment. Her name is Judith Krug, known to many as “Judy” and a brave and wonderful woman. As Director of the American Library Association’s Office for Intellectual Freedom since it was founded in 1967, she also founded “Banned Books Week” in 1982. That’s how I met her.

I’d done stories before about First Amendment issues and someone gave her my number. She called to tell me that the last week of September, 1982, would be the first ALA Banned Books Week and wouldn’t the Today Show like to cover it? Of course we would. Look at some of the most banned books over the years – here in the US! Surprising at best, eh? They include Harry Potter, Huck Finn, Of Mice and Men, The Catcher in the Rye and Kaffir Boy. Appalled by the list, I remember starting the piece with film of the Nazi book burnings in Berlin. Judy loved it!

In the years since 1982 we repeated the story almost every year — and every year new books joined the list. Not always from the right, either. Some liberal parents challenged Huckleberry Finn as racist, and the other ban efforts came from all over the place! Harry Potter as Satanism, Native Son because it put the death penalty in dispute and the Bible preaches “an eye for an eye,” Wrinkle in Time, Understood Alice and others by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor, Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret, The House of Spirits, Slaughterhouse-Five and Lord of the Flies.

But banned books were far from her only concern. As the Chicago Tribute wrote:

Mrs. Krug worked directly with librarians across the country who were engaged in censorship battles. She enlisted allies from fields that are
affected by 1st Amendment attacks such as publishers and journalists,
said Robert Doyle, executive director of the Illinois Library
Association.
“She was concerned about the gamut of expression,
so that people could go to the library and encounter the full
marketplace of ideas,” Doyle said.

Beyond books was her opposition to filters on library computers and her less-noticed championing of free expression in video games. A Game Politics piece includes this:

Judith was instrumental in the fight against video game censorship. She was a forceful advocate for Media Coalition amicus
briefs in the Indianapolis, St. Louis, Illinois, Minnesota, and
California video game cases. It would have been easy for the librarians
to say, “That’s not our battle,” but thankfully that wasn’t Judith’s
temperament.

Judith was a fierce believer in the importance of
freedom of expression to our culture and our society and was zealous
defender of the First Amendment. We all have truly benefited from her
passion.

Judy died on April 11th. She leaves a family who will miss her, I’m sure. But she leaves a legacy for the rest of us too, one for which we should be grateful. Anyone who loves to read, who wants to be able to ask a librarian for a special book for a quirky kid, who wants to use the library computer to do research or read off-the-wall news stories, or who just loves to wander in the stacks or online looking for something that never occurred to them, or a special idea or book or website — we’ll miss her too.

UNTIL PASSOVER PASSES OVER: HARD WORK AND TRUE MEANING

I used to love Passover. The politics of freedom, the story of courage and redemption, the miracle of the Red Sea and the great songs — all wonderful. We had nursery school matzoh covers that the kids had made, lots of stories and family and friends around and a general great time. Once each year. And then the holiday was over. There was no preparation beyond the cooking.

But that was then.

Now that we are living our kosher, observant life, things are pretty different. And exhausting. In the first place, the holiday is two days long at each end with, I think, five days in between. This year, it started Saturday night at sundown, with the first Seder (the word means "order" and it’s a ritual meal telling the Passover story). There are services Sunday then many people have company for lunch. We went home to crash because that night there is a second Seder! This year, since Friday night is the beginning of the Sabbath, that means that from Friday night until Monday night we couldn’t use computers, read email, drive, turn lights on and off etc. There are reasons for it; honoring the commandment to celebrate the liberation of the Jewish people is a wonderful privilege. It’s just so much work!

If you’re Orthodox you have to clean the house (well, we’d probably do a spring cleaning anyway) to get rid of any crumbs or other chometz (bread-related stuff). The toaster has to go (crumbs = chometz). The coffee machine has to go (to be replaced by one that has used Kosher for Passover coffee only.) You have to swap out all your dishes and pots. I’m having artichokes on one of the meals I’m serving and just realized I have no ramekins to put the dip stuff into because they are used the rest of the year. Gonna have to figure that one out…. And I haven’t even told you about all the food that’s not legit and how you need special spices labeled Kosher for Passover and they don’t make Passover curry powder or tarragon or even decent mustard.

Anyway it’s a pain. I began this post in a snit but now it’s three days later, the first days are over, everything is done and I feel better. The last thing, the hanging pot rack, is covered by a sheet (so scenic – here it is.) Here’s why: all the non-Passover stuff has to either be isolated or out of the room. It’s really tough, and heavy, to take all my fancy Calphalon pots off the racks and down to the basement so this is the solution I’ve come up with. The other stuff not in the basement is in cabinets that are taped shut . The remaining kitchen storage is jammed with Passover-ready tools and foods. What’s not in there is piled on the counters because there’s no place else to put it.

I’m in a real work mode so it’s been doubly tough to pay respectful, thorough attention to this this year — only our second living in a kosher home as observant Jews. But it’s done. And now, I’ve just been struggling to get past the prep anxiety that was waking me up at night and into the holiday itself. OH and not end up obsessing about where we’re invited for lunch and who’s coming to our house and….

Even so, I can still summon the thrill of remembering the remarkable past and recovery the Jewish people experienced – leaving Egypt and so many times since. (if you don’t count that pesky Golden Calf thing.) And remember that it’s our tradition to honor freedom and tell the story every year – like Camelot.

Ask ev’ry person if he’s heard the story,
And tell it strong and clear if he has not,
That once there was a fleeting wisp of glory
Called Camelot.

Even more than Arthur’s though, our story is informed with a moral depth that can be obscured by all this crazy kitchen-cleaning. Think of the Ten Commandments – the second time they appear.

“‘Observe the Sabbath day, to keep it holy, as the Lord your God commanded you. 13 Six days you shall labor and do all your work, 14 but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the Lord
your God. On it you shall not do any work, you or your son or your
daughter or your male servant or your female servant, or your ox or
your donkey or any of your livestock, or the sojourner who is within
your gates, that your male servant and your female servant may rest as
well as you. 15 You shall remember that you were a slave [3] in the land of Egypt, and the Lord your God brought you out from there with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm. Therefore the Lord your God commanded you to keep the Sabbath day.*

That’s how it gets me. At each Seder, Saturday and Sunday nights, we read the story of the abuses against the Jews and the miraculous escape – and are reminded that, as we deal with others, we must never forget that we once were slaves too – particularly in our dealings with those who work for or serve us. Beyond that, concern for others informs the entire service. This appears near the beginning:

This is the bread of affliction which our ancestors ate in the land
of Egypt. Let all who are hungry, come and eat. Let all who are needy,
come and partake of the Pascal lamb. Now we are here; next year may we
be in the Land of Israel. Now we are slaves; next year may we be free
men. You could, of course, complain about the "free men" phrase but that was thousands of years ago, and the sentiment, in my view, transcends gender.

So there you have it. It is an honor to live with such values and messages even though, my friends tell me, the aggravation arrives every year, with the Seder. Like so many parts of this still-new life we are living, there’s much asked of us, not only spiritually but also logistically. But, like so many parts of this still-new life we are living, what emerges amid the crankiness is a sense of pride, and meaning, and peace.

*Thanks to my friend Aliza for this insight – she is a true thinker and teacher.

WAY BACK IN EAST BERLIN AT STASI HQ

This is the headquarters of the East German Security Forces – STASI. It’s now a museum. We went there today in an appropriately grey, rainy day. We left the brightly lit neighborhood where we’re staying and took the U Bahn (subway). The exit from the station was breathtaking. Literally. I’d been all over East Germany, in Dresden, East Berlin and all the little towns along the way as well as in both Prague and Budapest — on several occasions before the Wall fell. I know more than most Americans about the grossness of life for the people trapped there for so many years.

Somehow though – after leaving funky Prenzlauer Berg – and even the U Bahn station with its neon and magazine stands and climbing the stairs to find – the past – was stunning. This part of Berlin is still as it was – lines of grey, sterile, tall apartment blocks. Each looking like the end of the line. No signs. No ads. No nothing. You walk a block and go into a parking lot, up a little rise and there’s the building in this photo.

Enter and its shabby and grey. Here’s whose statue is in the lobby.

Yup it’s Karl Marx – but this time he’s a small copy and here to remind us what used to be. And what used to be is pretty bad. I wish I could explain what it felt like to wander the halls where these men (it was mostly men) dominated and terrorized generations of East German citizens. To see truncheons and vans that travelled day and night with receivers to pick up random conversations – and photos of sweeps and arrests – and of this cell.

Now remember, I’m an old leftie myself. I wish the world could allow people to give what they can and receive what they need. But this is not what was happening here. Not at all. Fear was the dominant value – and conformity to prevent any threat to the state. Walking around looking in those bland offices and at the room after room of photos and documents had far more impact than even atrocity stories about the period. Because if you’ve been around eastern Europe before 1990 you knew the weight on your heart; you could feel the thickness in the air. And it was from this place that enforcement of that weight emanated. The museum not a fancy place and I don’t think much visited but if you come to Berlin (and you’ll love it here) come here. It’s a deeply disturbing reminder of what people are capable of doing and of how they always call it something else when they’re doing it. We had lots of thoughts about what’s happening at home now in relation to this – but that’s a conversation for another day.

And here’s a little bonus – the view out the double decker top deck on a bus later in the day — in a more liveable part of what was the East, in the same rain…..