I guess I am joining the Greek chorus on this issue. Including a government sponsored program in the menu of health insurance choices does not mean that you have to give up coverage you already like or that we will become a socialist country. Even if you believe that we actually should become a socialist country, it would take decades. We are too far away from any European notion of a social safety net.
The misinformation about the Obama administration's vision of modifying (yes, "modifying", not throwing the existing system out with the trash) is even worse than it was when Hillary Clinton attempted to take on the issue in the early 1990s. The scare tactics employed to maintain the status quo are shameful. I wonder how many uninsured people could be insured if the advertising budgets of the naysayers were directed at paying for those benefits.
Most people with some knowledge about the existing system know that far too many people rely on emergency room treatment for common non-emergency maladies, especially when the patients lack health insurance. It's the most expensive way to deliver that kind of treatment and accounts for much of the problem. These patients often cannot afford to pay the bill. Those of us who are employed and have insurance already end up paying for unnecessary ER treatment either through income taxes, being unable to recover money lent when the uninsured file for bankruptcy or through depressed house values when the uninsured cannot make mortgage payments and face foreclosure on their houses.
The fact is that most of our current economic problems are tied together in a knot. Getting health insurance to the millions who don't have it is one of the most important first steps in addressing so many other issues.
I was struck by President Obama's remarks at a recent town hall meeting. He mentioned that we needed to listen to each other which is the whole reason I started this blog in the first place. Obviously, I think he's right.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Monday, August 10, 2009
An Open Letter to Justice Sotomayor
First, congratulations on your nomination and appointment to the United States Supreme Court. You are obviously well aware that you are an important symbol to millions of young women from every racial and ethnic background. Like many others, I think it reaches beyond that. Your ascension to the highest court in the land did not require a promise from you that you would erase your life history or to make any pledge that was not required of your new colleagues.
Many people will wonder whether your judicial style will resemble Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg's or whether your tenure on the Court will be marked by the kind of pragmatism of retired Justice Sandra Day O'Connor. Will advocates spend much of their time attempting to argue directly to you as they did to Justice O'Connor and now Justice Anthony Kennedy, assuming that you might be a swing vote on some important issues? I make no assumptions. Based on past Court decisions, there will be occasions where there is unanimity among you and your colleagues. There may be occasions when you lean toward the conservative wing and times when you will agree with and write for a majority of the justices who are viewed as progressive or "liberal".
You come to the Court at a critical time in the nation's history. Issues related to reproductive rights, limits on executive power and the rights of lesbians and gays to enter into civil marriages that are valid in any state no matter where those unions are formed, will all be in front of you. Few "easy" cases will get to you. I applaud your willingness to tackle the difficult ones.
I watched some of the confirmation hearings and read or listened to some of the punditry that accompanied your nomination. Much of it was insulting or ignored your long service as a federal judge. I have already written a post about the importance of a diverse Supreme Court that reflects our society as it really is. The legitimacy of the Court, in my view, depends on it.
As you sit in your chambers, hire law clerks, get to know your colleagues better and settle into your new role, I wish you the best of luck and that you will continue to do what the greatest lawyers do - listen and learn. Please do not forget your roots; most of your colleagues have not done so. I, for one, believe that you will be a star.
Thank you again for your willingess to serve the country in this way.
Many people will wonder whether your judicial style will resemble Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg's or whether your tenure on the Court will be marked by the kind of pragmatism of retired Justice Sandra Day O'Connor. Will advocates spend much of their time attempting to argue directly to you as they did to Justice O'Connor and now Justice Anthony Kennedy, assuming that you might be a swing vote on some important issues? I make no assumptions. Based on past Court decisions, there will be occasions where there is unanimity among you and your colleagues. There may be occasions when you lean toward the conservative wing and times when you will agree with and write for a majority of the justices who are viewed as progressive or "liberal".
You come to the Court at a critical time in the nation's history. Issues related to reproductive rights, limits on executive power and the rights of lesbians and gays to enter into civil marriages that are valid in any state no matter where those unions are formed, will all be in front of you. Few "easy" cases will get to you. I applaud your willingness to tackle the difficult ones.
I watched some of the confirmation hearings and read or listened to some of the punditry that accompanied your nomination. Much of it was insulting or ignored your long service as a federal judge. I have already written a post about the importance of a diverse Supreme Court that reflects our society as it really is. The legitimacy of the Court, in my view, depends on it.
As you sit in your chambers, hire law clerks, get to know your colleagues better and settle into your new role, I wish you the best of luck and that you will continue to do what the greatest lawyers do - listen and learn. Please do not forget your roots; most of your colleagues have not done so. I, for one, believe that you will be a star.
Thank you again for your willingess to serve the country in this way.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
What We Want
I spent a little time the other day filling in some profile information on my Facebook account. One of the questions asked me about my favorite quotes. I mangled one of the quotes a bit because I didn't remember the exact words that Samuel Gompers, a life long labor activist and founder of the American Federation of Labor, which in the early 1950s merged with the Congress of Industrial Organizations (hence, the AFL-CIO) used at the turn of the 20th century.
The real quote is: “What does labor want? We want more schoolhouses and less jails; more books and less arsenals; more learning and less vice; more leisure and less greed; more justice and less revenge; in fact, more of the opportunities to cultivate our better natures,”
The labor movement ultimately got some of the things that Gompers championed. For non-history buffs, Gompers at the time was focused on skilled trade workers. Since then, I think Gompers's quote resonates far beyond the constituency he was trying to reach and represent. 100 years later, most people who work in any variety of endeavors (both unionized and non-unionized and every collar color) would agree with the list of wants that he mentioned, some of which were realized.
Of course, his list was not exhaustive (perhaps because he could not imagine that a social safety net would be created in the aftermath of the Great Depression when he made his remarks). I am pretty convinced he would support current efforts at health care reform.
I think that he would have been delighted that even (employed) working class people, and especially the middle class, have a better standard of living that grew practically non-stop through 2008. Much of the credit goes to inventions and discoveries that we take for granted today because they are mass marketed and typically become cheaper because of the magic of economies of scale. Time saving kitchen appliances, access to television and radio, the Internet and other things that did not exist when he made his remarks might have surprised him.
I am not suggesting for a minute that it's inherently wrong to want more material things (conspicuously absent from the quote). I would be a hypocrite if I said that. Nevertheless, I do not believe that he would be happy to know that there are people who live in really tough economic times but continue to attempt to acquire things that they don't really need or can't afford.
There are as many different reasons for wanting more material things as there are people who want more. A group of my friends call it "lifestyle creep". As salaries rise, we almost reflexively buy more things. Certainly, the growth of the US economy depends to a large extent on those desires and a willingness to spend down savings or use credit to get the latest and greatest things.
If "lifestyle creep" disappeared, it would probably make recessions worse and longer-lasting and would ultimately change the way businesses market their products. It's happening as I sit here. People are flocking to take advantage of a government-sponsored $4500 to scrap a serviceable but old, energy-inefficient car in favor of a new car that uses less fuel. Let's not fool ourselves. It takes lots of energy to build a new car. People buying cars under this program are probably thrilled and it might go a long way toward saving domestic auto manufacturers, but I don't think that the environment is better off for it. To me, it's a dilemma. I am trying as best I can to repair, reuse, recycle, etc., but I am hardly perfect. I find it easier to deprive myself of things than to hold back on giving gifts to others. I can't say that I need anything at this point but that doesn't mean that I won't go into a store and buy something I don't need.
I hope that Samuel Gompers's vision sticks in my mind, especially when I want to buy another "thing" that is cool but unnecessary to change my quality of life. Save your money for people who have real needs. That should do nothing to hurt the economy; I predict it will make you feel better.
The real quote is: “What does labor want? We want more schoolhouses and less jails; more books and less arsenals; more learning and less vice; more leisure and less greed; more justice and less revenge; in fact, more of the opportunities to cultivate our better natures,”
The labor movement ultimately got some of the things that Gompers championed. For non-history buffs, Gompers at the time was focused on skilled trade workers. Since then, I think Gompers's quote resonates far beyond the constituency he was trying to reach and represent. 100 years later, most people who work in any variety of endeavors (both unionized and non-unionized and every collar color) would agree with the list of wants that he mentioned, some of which were realized.
Of course, his list was not exhaustive (perhaps because he could not imagine that a social safety net would be created in the aftermath of the Great Depression when he made his remarks). I am pretty convinced he would support current efforts at health care reform.
I think that he would have been delighted that even (employed) working class people, and especially the middle class, have a better standard of living that grew practically non-stop through 2008. Much of the credit goes to inventions and discoveries that we take for granted today because they are mass marketed and typically become cheaper because of the magic of economies of scale. Time saving kitchen appliances, access to television and radio, the Internet and other things that did not exist when he made his remarks might have surprised him.
I am not suggesting for a minute that it's inherently wrong to want more material things (conspicuously absent from the quote). I would be a hypocrite if I said that. Nevertheless, I do not believe that he would be happy to know that there are people who live in really tough economic times but continue to attempt to acquire things that they don't really need or can't afford.
There are as many different reasons for wanting more material things as there are people who want more. A group of my friends call it "lifestyle creep". As salaries rise, we almost reflexively buy more things. Certainly, the growth of the US economy depends to a large extent on those desires and a willingness to spend down savings or use credit to get the latest and greatest things.
If "lifestyle creep" disappeared, it would probably make recessions worse and longer-lasting and would ultimately change the way businesses market their products. It's happening as I sit here. People are flocking to take advantage of a government-sponsored $4500 to scrap a serviceable but old, energy-inefficient car in favor of a new car that uses less fuel. Let's not fool ourselves. It takes lots of energy to build a new car. People buying cars under this program are probably thrilled and it might go a long way toward saving domestic auto manufacturers, but I don't think that the environment is better off for it. To me, it's a dilemma. I am trying as best I can to repair, reuse, recycle, etc., but I am hardly perfect. I find it easier to deprive myself of things than to hold back on giving gifts to others. I can't say that I need anything at this point but that doesn't mean that I won't go into a store and buy something I don't need.
I hope that Samuel Gompers's vision sticks in my mind, especially when I want to buy another "thing" that is cool but unnecessary to change my quality of life. Save your money for people who have real needs. That should do nothing to hurt the economy; I predict it will make you feel better.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
What's Your Name?
At birth most Americans are issued by their parent(s) a First, Middle and Surname. Christian or non-religious folks almost always include a middle name and often choose to confuse their families and others by making a boy a “junior” or bestowing the same honor (at least as to first name) on a little girl. “Where’s John?”, someone bellows at the family reunion. “Junior or Senior?,” someone bellows back. My maternal grandmother – despite her many insecurities - told her daughter that I looked nothing like my legal first name (I was a junior – do you see the danger now?) and announced that my name was David, my middle name. No one was in any mood to piss off a stylish 57 year old woman who could simultaneously cook a perfect pot roast, darn a sock, redecorate the dining room, alter a dress and start a seasonal cutting garden all under the influence of enough Maker’s Mark to kill the average 200 pound man. So, David it was. I wish I had my grandmother around a little longer than I did because she is responsible for the top of my resume looking extremely pompous. I always use a first initial, then David, then my surname.
Of course, for every rule, there are exceptions. Some Jewish friends have no middle name at all. (How do you give a person with only two names personalized Land’s End shirts?) When having children of their own, they endeavor to choose a first name that honors a dead relative, sometimes cheating a bit by telling me that all you really have to do is use the first initial of the dead relative but I bet that wasn’t always considered so kosher. To me, this explains the virtual disappearance of Berthas and Mortimers from the telephone book.
Most of my African-American friends bathe in the freedom of choosing or inventing any name that they want. Most of the girls’ names sound very pretty. They could choose a traditional African first or middle name or go more local and choose Emily. These choices are immune from criticism for a very important reason. Most African Americans never got to choose or retain their surname which often matched their slave master’s. If they want to be a little more creative than the rest of us, they earned it the hard way through their ancestors. I know plenty of African Americans of my generation whose parents went with the flow and called their kids Ann or William. Maybe they liked the names or they might have thought that the civil rights struggle was going to be over soon and thought that buying into the established white cultural norms, even with names, would make it easier for their kids. It’s not over yet.
As for middle names, if yours doesn’t match your maternal or paternal grandmother’s surname or your mother’s maiden surname, you are far less likely to be invited to Old Guard WASPy events near a body of water. The best you’re likely to do is get into a Where’s Waldo picture at a Hamptons party with other upper middle class social climbers like the Housewives of New York on Bravo TV. You may not care about that but I thought I’d mention it so you could get through the overwhelming sense of disappointment this might cause you. If you are weeping at this point, you are missing the point unless your tears are from laughing too hard.
Americans of all socioeconomic strata cannot seem to leave any polysyllabic name alone. It must be shortened or changed. David turns into Dave, Peter into Pete, Patricia into Pat, Edward into Ed, Eddie, Ned, etc. I don’t know whether it’s because it denotes a casual American style, a level of intimacy or familiarity or whether they never liked the name in the first place. For me, I am almost always called David in professional settings. With family and most friends, I am Dave or even Davey. I like all of them so I don’t care. My maternal grandfather always called me Skipper. While it’s true that we fished from a boat together over the years, I was hardly an expert at navigation and my rowing technique left much to be desired. The big exception here is that your European friends (except some Brits who probably started all of this in the first place), will refuse to shorten your name, because, as one friend explained in college, “it’s your name”. When it comes along with an accent, I love the sound of my full name.
This gets tricky because, at least in the US, it again depends to some extent on social class. Those lines have blurred somewhat and have become more about bank accounts than bloodlines in some places. Let’s start at the top with the Muffies (I have known a Muffy and she was very nice and very down to Earth despite her dynastic wealth and lack of any apparent ambition to do anything but buy Lily Pulitzer shifts while in Palm Beach. I don’t think I ever learned her given name. The other example is George W. Bush, whose penchant for nicknaming everyone he ever met deserves a diagnosis in the DSM IV. Medical research will never find a cure for it.
Next stop: the upper middle class. This could involve no nicknaming at all, lest someone think that they are not serious people with serious jobs, serious money and very, very serious children. These are the most tortured people among us; my heart goes out to them. I usually find such people humorless and boring. They desperately want their children to meet and marry Muffies but Muffies are hardwired to know when someone is a social climber and will befriend lots of people anyway but know that their marriage options are somewhat preordained and do not typically include having a father-in-law who owns a chain of carwashes. These tortured souls, if they try to mimic Muffy’s family by nicknaming their kids in a similar way, will be disappointed to learn that Muffy’s kin will still know what you are up to and, without saying a word, will think that the nicknames sound more like ones that Sarah Palin would use as a first name on a birth certificate. They won’t speak about it unless Muffy comes home during college and professes love for one of these guys.
For the poorest white folks, it’s all over the map. They probably don’t spend much time thinking about the social significance of their naming choices. Chalk that up to holding down three part-time jobs that don’t include paid maternity leave. They tend to keep it simple but will sometimes choose names like Farrah or some other name that will sound extremely stupid when the child turns 80.
This is hardly an exhaustive discussion of these phenomena. We’re leaving out NASCAR aficionados who apparently like hyphenated Billy-Bobs, etc. or parents who just say “hey, you – YEAH, YOU – get upstairs and make your bed.” The child’s nickname is You. It seems a little difficult to develop a persona around that.
I wonder how my sister (mostly European descent) and her husband, Indian (the country, not the locals) will decide to name their kids. They could pull off a really interesting mix. I have nothing against Tiffanys but you won’t find them choosing that one. My parents chose my sister’s name – Leah – because they liked it. Some of my Jewish friends jokingly point out that my Protestant/Catholic parents ended up with two kids with Hebrew names and that it explains how I ended up being a lawyer and my sister ended up being a pediatrician, although when queried on this my parents never considered that when playing the name game. As the true hypocrite I am, I often refer to my sister as Lee, my mother’s middle name that came from some distant tendril of surname ancestry.
Why does any of this matter? Maybe it doesn’t matter to you at all. The reason it fascinates me is because people actually do make assumptions about people based on their names. All of the Farrahs born in the late 70s and early 80s will, for many, conjure up an image of a gorgeous blonde but won’t take them very seriously until one of them perfects cold table-top fusion at MIT, even if they have master’s degrees and Mensa-qualifying IQs. It’s wrong to do that but I think it’s true.
The good news is that we elected President Barack Hussein Obama, but only after some nasty people wasted their television punditry moment or spent money on advertisements trying to scare people about the President’s middle name. As shameful as that was, a majority of us didn’t care. That’s progress, especially if it sends a chill up the back of Ann Coulter.
I’ve missed or left out lots of other observations and exceptions to them. Please add freely.
Of course, for every rule, there are exceptions. Some Jewish friends have no middle name at all. (How do you give a person with only two names personalized Land’s End shirts?) When having children of their own, they endeavor to choose a first name that honors a dead relative, sometimes cheating a bit by telling me that all you really have to do is use the first initial of the dead relative but I bet that wasn’t always considered so kosher. To me, this explains the virtual disappearance of Berthas and Mortimers from the telephone book.
Most of my African-American friends bathe in the freedom of choosing or inventing any name that they want. Most of the girls’ names sound very pretty. They could choose a traditional African first or middle name or go more local and choose Emily. These choices are immune from criticism for a very important reason. Most African Americans never got to choose or retain their surname which often matched their slave master’s. If they want to be a little more creative than the rest of us, they earned it the hard way through their ancestors. I know plenty of African Americans of my generation whose parents went with the flow and called their kids Ann or William. Maybe they liked the names or they might have thought that the civil rights struggle was going to be over soon and thought that buying into the established white cultural norms, even with names, would make it easier for their kids. It’s not over yet.
As for middle names, if yours doesn’t match your maternal or paternal grandmother’s surname or your mother’s maiden surname, you are far less likely to be invited to Old Guard WASPy events near a body of water. The best you’re likely to do is get into a Where’s Waldo picture at a Hamptons party with other upper middle class social climbers like the Housewives of New York on Bravo TV. You may not care about that but I thought I’d mention it so you could get through the overwhelming sense of disappointment this might cause you. If you are weeping at this point, you are missing the point unless your tears are from laughing too hard.
Americans of all socioeconomic strata cannot seem to leave any polysyllabic name alone. It must be shortened or changed. David turns into Dave, Peter into Pete, Patricia into Pat, Edward into Ed, Eddie, Ned, etc. I don’t know whether it’s because it denotes a casual American style, a level of intimacy or familiarity or whether they never liked the name in the first place. For me, I am almost always called David in professional settings. With family and most friends, I am Dave or even Davey. I like all of them so I don’t care. My maternal grandfather always called me Skipper. While it’s true that we fished from a boat together over the years, I was hardly an expert at navigation and my rowing technique left much to be desired. The big exception here is that your European friends (except some Brits who probably started all of this in the first place), will refuse to shorten your name, because, as one friend explained in college, “it’s your name”. When it comes along with an accent, I love the sound of my full name.
This gets tricky because, at least in the US, it again depends to some extent on social class. Those lines have blurred somewhat and have become more about bank accounts than bloodlines in some places. Let’s start at the top with the Muffies (I have known a Muffy and she was very nice and very down to Earth despite her dynastic wealth and lack of any apparent ambition to do anything but buy Lily Pulitzer shifts while in Palm Beach. I don’t think I ever learned her given name. The other example is George W. Bush, whose penchant for nicknaming everyone he ever met deserves a diagnosis in the DSM IV. Medical research will never find a cure for it.
Next stop: the upper middle class. This could involve no nicknaming at all, lest someone think that they are not serious people with serious jobs, serious money and very, very serious children. These are the most tortured people among us; my heart goes out to them. I usually find such people humorless and boring. They desperately want their children to meet and marry Muffies but Muffies are hardwired to know when someone is a social climber and will befriend lots of people anyway but know that their marriage options are somewhat preordained and do not typically include having a father-in-law who owns a chain of carwashes. These tortured souls, if they try to mimic Muffy’s family by nicknaming their kids in a similar way, will be disappointed to learn that Muffy’s kin will still know what you are up to and, without saying a word, will think that the nicknames sound more like ones that Sarah Palin would use as a first name on a birth certificate. They won’t speak about it unless Muffy comes home during college and professes love for one of these guys.
For the poorest white folks, it’s all over the map. They probably don’t spend much time thinking about the social significance of their naming choices. Chalk that up to holding down three part-time jobs that don’t include paid maternity leave. They tend to keep it simple but will sometimes choose names like Farrah or some other name that will sound extremely stupid when the child turns 80.
This is hardly an exhaustive discussion of these phenomena. We’re leaving out NASCAR aficionados who apparently like hyphenated Billy-Bobs, etc. or parents who just say “hey, you – YEAH, YOU – get upstairs and make your bed.” The child’s nickname is You. It seems a little difficult to develop a persona around that.
I wonder how my sister (mostly European descent) and her husband, Indian (the country, not the locals) will decide to name their kids. They could pull off a really interesting mix. I have nothing against Tiffanys but you won’t find them choosing that one. My parents chose my sister’s name – Leah – because they liked it. Some of my Jewish friends jokingly point out that my Protestant/Catholic parents ended up with two kids with Hebrew names and that it explains how I ended up being a lawyer and my sister ended up being a pediatrician, although when queried on this my parents never considered that when playing the name game. As the true hypocrite I am, I often refer to my sister as Lee, my mother’s middle name that came from some distant tendril of surname ancestry.
Why does any of this matter? Maybe it doesn’t matter to you at all. The reason it fascinates me is because people actually do make assumptions about people based on their names. All of the Farrahs born in the late 70s and early 80s will, for many, conjure up an image of a gorgeous blonde but won’t take them very seriously until one of them perfects cold table-top fusion at MIT, even if they have master’s degrees and Mensa-qualifying IQs. It’s wrong to do that but I think it’s true.
The good news is that we elected President Barack Hussein Obama, but only after some nasty people wasted their television punditry moment or spent money on advertisements trying to scare people about the President’s middle name. As shameful as that was, a majority of us didn’t care. That’s progress, especially if it sends a chill up the back of Ann Coulter.
I’ve missed or left out lots of other observations and exceptions to them. Please add freely.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Post-Modern Racism
I like my drama to be expensive, with good actors and with orchestra seats. I particularly like Edward Albee plays because I can identify with some of it. If it’s drama that I haven’t paid for, I cut the actors a little more slack. Being locked out of your house should not be that dramatic.
Most of us have locked ourselves out of our houses before. Sometimes we leave an extra key with a neighbor we like so we don’t have to hire a locksmith or jimmy it ourselves. Most of us would be very, very happy if our neighbors knew us well enough to see something going on across the street that might be a crime and called the police to report it. Most police officers would be delighted to know that it was a false alarm and once they knew that the owner was safely inside, that their job was done.
Why did none of these things happen for Professor Gates or Officer Crowley? Did the individual who called 911 know that Professor Gates and his wife lived there? Did the 911 operator ask who lived there or ask anyone to describe what he looked like? Why did each man react the way that they did?
Based on what has been reported (not that that is always accurate anyway), I can’t conclude it was all racism or that it was all the fault of one of them. I’m certain that Professor Gates has seen a fair number of police officers beat the crap out of African American men for exercising or advocating for their civil rights or for no apparent reason at all. I am sure that Officer Crowley realizes that there are African Americans who live in Cambridge and that some of them teach at local universities (in this case the university – Harvard).
From what I know in news accounts, this was a huge failure to really listen. The officer could have looked at the Professor’s ID, turned on one heel, bid the Professor a good night and walked away even if the Professor was surly in the process. Professor Gates could have stopped himself from assuming that every question a white man in uniform asks him is a personal affront that is symbolic of Jim Crow days, especially since he clearly had the intellectual upper hand. Part of listening – not just hearing words but actually listening to them – is to consider their source and the context in which the words are said. Neither man gets a free pass on that obligation.
The arrest was a public humiliation for both men, albeit more humiliating for Professor Gates. It never had to happen. I’m no fool. There are plenty of times that racial profiling is rampant in some communities, so much so that some of my friends are afraid of being picked up by a state trooper for DWB – driving while black. I voted for Barack Obama in the last election. He is smart enough to know that you don’t reflexively call a police officer’s actions “stupid” until you know all the facts or to publicly comment on your friend’s behavior or, in my view, to make the most condescending statement of all: that this particular event was a “teaching moment”, especially when there are plenty of better “teaching moments” that deal with racism. This was the Massachusetts Governor Deval Patrick’s job, not the President’s. Patrick is African American and certainly knows who Professor Gates is. If I am wrong, my President is going to spend more of his time on this issue than any other. Maybe that’s the way it ought to be but if it is, we’ll end up with a brilliant one-term President who lost the independent voters that helped him make history. Too many other issues will go down the toilet and we’ll be right back where we started.
Several years ago, my sister, recently married to an epidemiologist who happens to be Indian, was pulled over on the New York State Thruway in Upstate NY. She was not speeding. She was stopped because she was white and her fiancé was dark skinned. All the officer asked her was if she knew the man sitting next to her and if “she was alright”. She confirmed that she was just fine, thank you very much, and went on – crying through the remainder of the trip at the humiliation her fiancé had just experienced. She was listening to every word the trooper said which translated into “I think you are being carjacked by someone you shouldn’t be with.” (Note: I would have ended up with mug shots if that had happened to me.) That would have made for a better “teaching moment” than the Gates/Crowley encounter. I say that because there can be no debate about what my sister and my brother-in-law experienced. The Gates/Crowley event has a little more nuance (starting with a 911 call that came from what I understand is a stable, relatively crime-free neighborhood. It is far too open to debate about exactly what we should expect from each party.
Barack Obama’s election to the Presidency came after a nearly flawless campaign; one that transcended race in ways that few neo-cons thought was possible. It’s naïve to think that the President won’t and shouldn’t avoid discussing these issues. To me, the President’s instinct came right from the heart. I just wish that in this case he had called his friend Deval Patrick at the Governor’s residence and asked him to get all the facts and handle it appropriately. There is no credible reporter that could have criticized that approach.
Please don’t misunderstand what I am trying to say. 40 years ago this year, a throng of lesbians and gay men had enough of NYPD raids on the places where they gathered. The Stonewall riots set into motion the modern LGBT civil rights movement. In 1992 while in law school, I was asked by a friend to speak to an auditorium full of parents – mostly white but fairly diverse - about the importance of including the children of gay parents in their curriculum, including the book, Heather Has Two Mommies. I gave my speech and was treated respectfully but not warmly, at least until I ended my remarks by telling that them that I was a gay man and had a mother and father just like their students did. In fewer than 5 seconds, I was shouted down, called epithets that I need not repeat here and was threatened with physical harm. Two police officers – one black and one white - grabbed me and hustled me out of the back door. They didn’t arrest me. They told me that they felt the need to walk with me to my car to make sure I wasn’t harmed. The black officer told me “you certainly have some balls, buddy…that was a tough room.” As I sat shaking in my car, I began to understand what I think people like Professor Gates lived through. I didn’t stop and will never stop advocating for full equality for all of us. I wish I remembered the name of the black officer so I could find a way to thank him but I wasn’t in any state of mind to commit it to memory. I didn’t stop my activism although I did make some changes in how I did it. I might not have any credibility as it relates to racism but I do know what discrimination feels like.
Most of us have locked ourselves out of our houses before. Sometimes we leave an extra key with a neighbor we like so we don’t have to hire a locksmith or jimmy it ourselves. Most of us would be very, very happy if our neighbors knew us well enough to see something going on across the street that might be a crime and called the police to report it. Most police officers would be delighted to know that it was a false alarm and once they knew that the owner was safely inside, that their job was done.
Why did none of these things happen for Professor Gates or Officer Crowley? Did the individual who called 911 know that Professor Gates and his wife lived there? Did the 911 operator ask who lived there or ask anyone to describe what he looked like? Why did each man react the way that they did?
Based on what has been reported (not that that is always accurate anyway), I can’t conclude it was all racism or that it was all the fault of one of them. I’m certain that Professor Gates has seen a fair number of police officers beat the crap out of African American men for exercising or advocating for their civil rights or for no apparent reason at all. I am sure that Officer Crowley realizes that there are African Americans who live in Cambridge and that some of them teach at local universities (in this case the university – Harvard).
From what I know in news accounts, this was a huge failure to really listen. The officer could have looked at the Professor’s ID, turned on one heel, bid the Professor a good night and walked away even if the Professor was surly in the process. Professor Gates could have stopped himself from assuming that every question a white man in uniform asks him is a personal affront that is symbolic of Jim Crow days, especially since he clearly had the intellectual upper hand. Part of listening – not just hearing words but actually listening to them – is to consider their source and the context in which the words are said. Neither man gets a free pass on that obligation.
The arrest was a public humiliation for both men, albeit more humiliating for Professor Gates. It never had to happen. I’m no fool. There are plenty of times that racial profiling is rampant in some communities, so much so that some of my friends are afraid of being picked up by a state trooper for DWB – driving while black. I voted for Barack Obama in the last election. He is smart enough to know that you don’t reflexively call a police officer’s actions “stupid” until you know all the facts or to publicly comment on your friend’s behavior or, in my view, to make the most condescending statement of all: that this particular event was a “teaching moment”, especially when there are plenty of better “teaching moments” that deal with racism. This was the Massachusetts Governor Deval Patrick’s job, not the President’s. Patrick is African American and certainly knows who Professor Gates is. If I am wrong, my President is going to spend more of his time on this issue than any other. Maybe that’s the way it ought to be but if it is, we’ll end up with a brilliant one-term President who lost the independent voters that helped him make history. Too many other issues will go down the toilet and we’ll be right back where we started.
Several years ago, my sister, recently married to an epidemiologist who happens to be Indian, was pulled over on the New York State Thruway in Upstate NY. She was not speeding. She was stopped because she was white and her fiancé was dark skinned. All the officer asked her was if she knew the man sitting next to her and if “she was alright”. She confirmed that she was just fine, thank you very much, and went on – crying through the remainder of the trip at the humiliation her fiancé had just experienced. She was listening to every word the trooper said which translated into “I think you are being carjacked by someone you shouldn’t be with.” (Note: I would have ended up with mug shots if that had happened to me.) That would have made for a better “teaching moment” than the Gates/Crowley encounter. I say that because there can be no debate about what my sister and my brother-in-law experienced. The Gates/Crowley event has a little more nuance (starting with a 911 call that came from what I understand is a stable, relatively crime-free neighborhood. It is far too open to debate about exactly what we should expect from each party.
Barack Obama’s election to the Presidency came after a nearly flawless campaign; one that transcended race in ways that few neo-cons thought was possible. It’s naïve to think that the President won’t and shouldn’t avoid discussing these issues. To me, the President’s instinct came right from the heart. I just wish that in this case he had called his friend Deval Patrick at the Governor’s residence and asked him to get all the facts and handle it appropriately. There is no credible reporter that could have criticized that approach.
Please don’t misunderstand what I am trying to say. 40 years ago this year, a throng of lesbians and gay men had enough of NYPD raids on the places where they gathered. The Stonewall riots set into motion the modern LGBT civil rights movement. In 1992 while in law school, I was asked by a friend to speak to an auditorium full of parents – mostly white but fairly diverse - about the importance of including the children of gay parents in their curriculum, including the book, Heather Has Two Mommies. I gave my speech and was treated respectfully but not warmly, at least until I ended my remarks by telling that them that I was a gay man and had a mother and father just like their students did. In fewer than 5 seconds, I was shouted down, called epithets that I need not repeat here and was threatened with physical harm. Two police officers – one black and one white - grabbed me and hustled me out of the back door. They didn’t arrest me. They told me that they felt the need to walk with me to my car to make sure I wasn’t harmed. The black officer told me “you certainly have some balls, buddy…that was a tough room.” As I sat shaking in my car, I began to understand what I think people like Professor Gates lived through. I didn’t stop and will never stop advocating for full equality for all of us. I wish I remembered the name of the black officer so I could find a way to thank him but I wasn’t in any state of mind to commit it to memory. I didn’t stop my activism although I did make some changes in how I did it. I might not have any credibility as it relates to racism but I do know what discrimination feels like.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
My Facebook account says that I have 68 "friends". As much as I like and or admire many of the people on the list, most are not "friends" as I define the term. I have never had 68 friends (at least all at once). Some of us kept up with some high school and undergraduate or graduate school friends but I doubt many people would say that their social circle outside of the Internet is as wide as Facebook would have us believe. The nice thing about Facebook is that you can often rekindle an old friendship (at least with a keyboard) and share some photographs and a laugh or two.
My best friend - who is not a Facebook participant - has remained my best friend since 1982. He and I have moved around the country a few times over the years and months sometimes go by before we speak to each other or see each other in person. We've watched each other, sometimes from a long distance, find romantic love, struggle with career dilemmas, celebrate births, mourn those who have died and confide in each other things that we might not even tell his wife or my partner.
My fear about Facebook and other social networking sites is not for me or my best friend. My fear is for kids that cannot remember a time when there was no text messaging, twitter, Facebook, My Space, etc. and will go through their entire lives at arm's length from being a physical part of their communities and will be unable to forge friendships that don't involve technology. No more handwritten thank you cards, no more holiday phone calls or visits and no more amusing stories of how a couple met bumping carts in a supermarket. Maybe I am overstating things a little bit, but I think it would be very sad if those random moments were rendered meaningless unless the person was on your list of "friends". I suppose I sound old and anti-technology. I'm not. I just hope that the high school dance won't be replaced with some Internet forum with some webcam device that lets people dance in the comfort of their own homes without actually being with anyone.
My best friend - who is not a Facebook participant - has remained my best friend since 1982. He and I have moved around the country a few times over the years and months sometimes go by before we speak to each other or see each other in person. We've watched each other, sometimes from a long distance, find romantic love, struggle with career dilemmas, celebrate births, mourn those who have died and confide in each other things that we might not even tell his wife or my partner.
My fear about Facebook and other social networking sites is not for me or my best friend. My fear is for kids that cannot remember a time when there was no text messaging, twitter, Facebook, My Space, etc. and will go through their entire lives at arm's length from being a physical part of their communities and will be unable to forge friendships that don't involve technology. No more handwritten thank you cards, no more holiday phone calls or visits and no more amusing stories of how a couple met bumping carts in a supermarket. Maybe I am overstating things a little bit, but I think it would be very sad if those random moments were rendered meaningless unless the person was on your list of "friends". I suppose I sound old and anti-technology. I'm not. I just hope that the high school dance won't be replaced with some Internet forum with some webcam device that lets people dance in the comfort of their own homes without actually being with anyone.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Universal Health Care Access
Do you have health insurance? If you do, does the provider cover most of your needs with affordable co-payments? Can you choose your own doctor or are you limited to a list of "participating physicians"? If you try to choose from among "participating physicians", have you ever been told by one of them that they are no longer accepting new patients? If you are unrestricted in your choice of doctors, have you ever been told that he/she "doesn't accept" your insurance?
I can think of many more questions, but the ones I have posed cover many complaints of insured people, even those with so-called "Cadillac" benefits. Many would say that they have a Cadillac that is practically useless because no one gave them the keys or forgot to mention that the maintenance charges to keep it running outstrip the cost of a new car.
There isn't much dispute among Americans that the health care in this country - at least when you can get it - is frequently on the cutting edge, the best in the world. We have better and more diagnostic equipment, better facilities, the best trained physicians. I have always thought that we like to say these kinds of things because the US is a nation that loves and in some ways, was founded on superlatives. In this fantasy, nobody is ordinary. All children are "gifted", all our workers are "the hardest working", our food choices are the most varied, etc., etc., etc. It's almost as if we are afraid that if we looked at some of our institutions with a more critical eye and found out that there were some significant flaws, that our whole national identity would deflate like those big Christmas lawn ornaments. Who are we if we're not the most free, the smartest and the richest? Are we then just 300+ million people sitting on good topsoil, driving gigantic cars while running out of petroleum? Of course not.
Out of the context of health care as a specific issue, it's important to remember that our addiction to superlatives spreads far beyond a single issue. For example, if everyone is brilliant, then no one is brilliant. "Brilliant" becomes "average". I will never forget the day that I went through orientation as an undergraduate student at Cornell University back in the early 80s. The dean of my college said (in a very nice way), "Welcome to Cornell. Wherever you may have come from, you were probably the valedictorian or something close to that. You were considered "brilliant" by your family and your peers. Look around you at your new classmates. At Cornell, until you do something pretty extraordinary, you are now average. There is nothing wrong with that. I hope it makes you work harder." I walked out of that auditorium feeling absolutely stupid. It wasn't because I thought I was brilliant or that I did not belong there, notwithstanding my sweet parents who unwittingly set me up for disappointment. It was because I thought that it ever really mattered or that there was some objective way of determining who was and who wasn't.
It's not just ordinary Americans who get caught in this nationalist superiority trap. Our clergy practically invented it. Either a religion says through its leaders that it is the only way to salvation or that the US is God's favorite country. I always love hearing that one. One day Texas belongs to Mexico. Before too long it joins the US after we kill enough Mexicans to call it ours. The territory immediately becomes the equivalent of God's newest friend on Facebook. For the truly religious reading this, I apologize for sounding so glib. I don't mean to be disrespectful. I know many thinking, good people who do their best to adhere to the tenets of their respective faiths but only when they are used for good and not as justifications for going to war or killing legislation that would keep uninsured people with stomach aches out of emergency rooms.
By the way, who is Jerry Fallwell to tell us that he is the only guy with a direct speaking relationship to God and that the 9/11 attacks were, in part, God's punishment for tolerating gays and lesbians in the US? I would say the same thing to Muslim clerics who apparently have Mohammed's cell number and know first-hand that the prophet is adamant that Israel must be destroyed, but only after killing a few thousand American civilians and soldiers. As insane as that is, there are clearly people who believe it.
My point is this: if we are unwilling to look carefully at the policies that have brought us to a point where millions of Americans are uninsured, we are stuck in that same trap of perceived superlatives that will permit our elected officials to leave things as they are. I hope we do not let them get away with that.
I can think of many more questions, but the ones I have posed cover many complaints of insured people, even those with so-called "Cadillac" benefits. Many would say that they have a Cadillac that is practically useless because no one gave them the keys or forgot to mention that the maintenance charges to keep it running outstrip the cost of a new car.
There isn't much dispute among Americans that the health care in this country - at least when you can get it - is frequently on the cutting edge, the best in the world. We have better and more diagnostic equipment, better facilities, the best trained physicians. I have always thought that we like to say these kinds of things because the US is a nation that loves and in some ways, was founded on superlatives. In this fantasy, nobody is ordinary. All children are "gifted", all our workers are "the hardest working", our food choices are the most varied, etc., etc., etc. It's almost as if we are afraid that if we looked at some of our institutions with a more critical eye and found out that there were some significant flaws, that our whole national identity would deflate like those big Christmas lawn ornaments. Who are we if we're not the most free, the smartest and the richest? Are we then just 300+ million people sitting on good topsoil, driving gigantic cars while running out of petroleum? Of course not.
Out of the context of health care as a specific issue, it's important to remember that our addiction to superlatives spreads far beyond a single issue. For example, if everyone is brilliant, then no one is brilliant. "Brilliant" becomes "average". I will never forget the day that I went through orientation as an undergraduate student at Cornell University back in the early 80s. The dean of my college said (in a very nice way), "Welcome to Cornell. Wherever you may have come from, you were probably the valedictorian or something close to that. You were considered "brilliant" by your family and your peers. Look around you at your new classmates. At Cornell, until you do something pretty extraordinary, you are now average. There is nothing wrong with that. I hope it makes you work harder." I walked out of that auditorium feeling absolutely stupid. It wasn't because I thought I was brilliant or that I did not belong there, notwithstanding my sweet parents who unwittingly set me up for disappointment. It was because I thought that it ever really mattered or that there was some objective way of determining who was and who wasn't.
It's not just ordinary Americans who get caught in this nationalist superiority trap. Our clergy practically invented it. Either a religion says through its leaders that it is the only way to salvation or that the US is God's favorite country. I always love hearing that one. One day Texas belongs to Mexico. Before too long it joins the US after we kill enough Mexicans to call it ours. The territory immediately becomes the equivalent of God's newest friend on Facebook. For the truly religious reading this, I apologize for sounding so glib. I don't mean to be disrespectful. I know many thinking, good people who do their best to adhere to the tenets of their respective faiths but only when they are used for good and not as justifications for going to war or killing legislation that would keep uninsured people with stomach aches out of emergency rooms.
By the way, who is Jerry Fallwell to tell us that he is the only guy with a direct speaking relationship to God and that the 9/11 attacks were, in part, God's punishment for tolerating gays and lesbians in the US? I would say the same thing to Muslim clerics who apparently have Mohammed's cell number and know first-hand that the prophet is adamant that Israel must be destroyed, but only after killing a few thousand American civilians and soldiers. As insane as that is, there are clearly people who believe it.
My point is this: if we are unwilling to look carefully at the policies that have brought us to a point where millions of Americans are uninsured, we are stuck in that same trap of perceived superlatives that will permit our elected officials to leave things as they are. I hope we do not let them get away with that.
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