Let me tell you a story: Boy Scouts

Let Me Tell You A Story: Healing Our Relationships With The Earth, With Others, and With Ourselves 

The following is a segment in the multi-part Let Me Tell You A Story series. This series is focused on identifying, describing, and understanding aspects of my culture(s) that are largely invisible, but that are traumatic to the earth, to outgroups, and to ourselves. I am not the only person to have noticed that our society is sick, and I am not the only person to explore this sickness in the hopes of healing. This series is as much a personal exploration as it is a critical examination of our society. This series is a starting point for consideration and conversation. You are invited to come along.

Come in, sit down. Let’s talk.

Trigger warnings: Attempted sexual assault, Trump quotes 

Let me tell you a story: Boy Scouts

Let me tell you a story. When I was sixteen, a friend tried to sexually assault me in the back of our friend’s parents’ van. We were all out – a pretty large group of us. We got to our destination and everyone piled out. He blocked me in and closed the door and climbed on top of me. I struggled and yelled at him to get off of me, to let me out, but I was consumed in the dread you feel when you realize you are entirely powerless in a situation. He was stronger than me and there was no room to get free, no possibility for escape. Everyone had already gone inside; they hadn’t waited for us.

This was not the first time, nor was it the last time, that I was made to feel entirely powerless, completely helpless, in the grip of a boy or man.

But this time I was saved.

The van door slid open and our friend, an Eagle Scout, pulled him off of me, helped me out of the van, pushed him back when he tried to attack me again, and basically made me feel secure.

Did he know the extent of the assault that was threatened? I don’t know. Maybe it looked like we were joking around and it went too far. Maybe it looked like our friend was trying to sexually assault me. Whatever it looked like, it looked like I did not want to be a part of it, and so he stepped in and put a stop to it.

I didn’t realize the extent to which this situation is connected in my mind to the character of Eagle Scouts until earlier today when I read about Trump’s 2017 address to the Boy Scouts. He went off on some petty, partisan rant like he always does, barely making sense as he calls up every supposed demon he has fought and vanquished – fake news! Hillary Clinton! Whatever, whatever. This man speaks solely in rally cries. He doesn’t complete sentences, let alone constructive thoughts. He moves from one phrase you can cheer for to the next with little content in between, but it’s fun to cheer so the crown leaves happy. 

Here’s some cheering talking points he gave at the Boy Scout Jamboree:

Boy Scout values are American values. And great Boy Scouts become great, great Americans.

(APPLAUSE)

As the Scout Law says, a scout is trustworthy, loyal -- we could use some more loyalty I will tell that you that.

(CROWD CHANTING)

There is more to that sentence of Scout Law, many more values that he didn’t get around to naming because he always gets hung up on that loyalty thing. He doesn’t circle back to it either. He goes on to talk about perseverance, which I agree is a great value – it’s one of my favorites – but it’s not in Scout Law. And then, of course, he moves right on to talking about the size of the crowd and then “fake news.”

If you were wondering, the full sentence of Scout Law that he didn’t complete is:

A Scout is Trustworthy, Loyal, Helpful, Friendly, Courteous, Kind, Obedient, Cheerful, Thrifty, Brave, Clean, and Reverent.

My friend who was an Eagle Scout, and my son who is working on becoming an Eagle Scout, work hard to embody all of the values of Scout Law, and moreover a wide variety of other good values. My friend worked hard to be a good citizen as a teenager even if and when others made fun of him for bothering to try and be a good person (being a good person is not cool when you’re a teenager). He didn’t seek to self-aggrandize himself, his loyalty wasn’t to blindly follow leaders who don’t espouse his values, and he didn’t seek to have power by making others powerless .

This is really hitting me today because not even a year ago this man running for President talked about how he was so powerful that he could do anything to women, even grab them by the p****, and he could get away with it.

And now he’s in front of the Boy Scouts, calling for loyalty.

Trump would never have been an Eagle Scout. He reminds me of one of the people in my story, but it is not the Eagle Scout.

Let me tell you a story: Wealth disparity

Let Me Tell You A Story: Healing Our Relationships With The Earth, With Others, and With Ourselves

The following is a segment in the multi-part Let Me Tell You A Story series. This series is focused on identifying, describing, and understanding aspects of my culture(s) that are largely invisible, but that are traumatic to the earth, to out-groups, and to ourselves. I am not the only person to have noticed that our society is sick, and I am not the only person to explore this sickness in the hopes of healing. This series is as much a personal exploration as it is a critical examination of our society. This series is a starting point for consideration and conversation. You are invited to come along.

Come in, sit down. Let’s talk.

Let me tell you a story: Wealth disparity

I heard this story about 18 years ago in the dining area of a Jack-in-the-Box in Murfreesboro, Tennessee. It was told to me by a man named Rocco. Rocco was a retiree, living (I assumed) on Social Security and/or some other fixed income poverty in which many of our elderly exist. He came to Jack-in-the-Box every morning and had a cup of coffee and an egg sandwich for breakfast, a meal carefully chosen because of its very cheap price, cheaper still with his senior discount, and paid for with carefully selected exact change.

My then-fiancé Michael had developed a relationship with Rocco on these mornings and had invited Rocco and me to share breakfast together one morning so that we two could additionally develop a relationship. I was working a late shift job at the time, and only made it out to breakfast with Rocco this one time, but the story he told me has stayed with me. I have shared it with friends and family. I share it with students in my university classes. It is a powerful story.

On the day I met Rocco, he was rather poor, he was elderly, and he had multiple health problems. His clothes were not quite fresh. His hair and beard were unkempt. He had food stains and crumbs from the meal we shared, and some prior meal, down the front of his shirt. He was the classic picture of the Invisible Elderly in our society – the elders who, like the poor, the homeless, and any other group that gives rise in most people to simultaneous emotions like empathy and disgust, cause people to feel bad for them but look away, ignore them, and allow their existence to continue in this way.

But that morning Rocco told me a story about the high times in his life. He was a very wealthy businessman for a time, cutting deals, jet-setting around the globe, partying with alcohol and drugs with the wealthy elite, throwing money at the world and living in a never-ending whirlwind of expensive adventures and high luxury. One night, he and his business partner came back to his insanely fancy condo after a night out drinking and carousing with partners and clients. They were drunk and high, and continued the celebration of a deal that had been made. At one point in the night, Rocco’s partner wrote him a check for $10,000. Rocco put the check down on a counter and forgot about it. It got covered over with mail and papers. Many weeks later, during a clean, the check was uncovered.

Rocco slapped his head in amazement at this point in the story. He had completely forgotten that this check existed, that he was owed the money, etc., etc., etc. Ten thousand dollars had so little worth to him at the time as to be completely forgettable.

Some years later, his life had fallen apart. He had no job, no home, no wealth, no family. He had come to a point where he didn’t know where he would sleep at night, didn’t know where his next meal would come from, didn’t know if there was a way he would get to keep living in this world. He went to his brother, from whom he had become estranged, to beg for support – a place to stay, a helping hand to get back on his feet. But his brother declined. But still he begged, because he hadn’t eaten and had nowhere to sleep. Just $20, he asked. Can I just have $20 to get me through the night?

Rocco looked me dead in the eye. That is the value of money, he said. It is not constant. That $20 was worth infinitely more to him than that $10,000 had been years earlier.

I have never forgotten this story.

I’ve worked with Invisible People for much of my life. And while I understand the sentiment among people in the middle and upper classes that giving money and support to those Invisible People is tantamount to throwing money away (who knows where they’ll spend it?), I disagree entirely. To me, it kind of doesn’t matter where they will spend it. These days in my life, a dollar has basically no worth to me. It is worth far more to others in this world.

But this is not the wealth disparity I want to talk about. The difference between me and a homeless person in the United States is a pretty big difference. But the difference between me and the wealthiest in our nation is an unfathomably, insanely huge difference. It’s hard to comprehend the amount of wealth held by the few wealthiest individuals and families in our world, because the difference between them and the rest of us is just so large.

In my economic stratum, I often hear people talking about the difference of $10,000 in annual income being the difference between someone paying their bills comfortably or living on the cusp of poverty. Here in the median, the difference in tens of thousands of dollars feels like the difference between upper and lower class. Here in the median, the difference between bare survival and comfortable living can be a $1.00 raise. Here in the median, a $10,000 difference in income is closer to the value of Rocco’s $20. It makes a big difference in our lives. We look to each other and compare ourselves to each other on the scale of tens of thousands because the value of that amount of money is so great.

In truth, the majority of Americans make less $100,000 annually and have less than $100,000 in wealth. The economic reality for the majority of us is that we are not wealthy and we never will be wealthy. We struggle and work hard to achieve and maintain a level of comfort that is above mere survival. Some of us achieve that. Many of us don’t. We look to each other and point fingers and make judgments as though the difference between those of us who achieve comfort and those of us who don’t is a difference in personality or persistence or hard work, but this is a lie told to us generation after generation by the wealthiest among us.

Here is my finger-pointing judgment – the wealthiest people in our world have an unconscionable and immoral amount of wealth. They have so much that it has no value to them, and yet they hoard it. They lobby and pass legislation that keeps it out of our hands and puts more and more of it into theirs. They say these rules benefit everyone who works hard, but this is a lie. It benefits them, the wealthy. It maintains and supports a system that allows them to stay wealthy. The money in our society flows upward into the higher strata. This means that people in my stratum will argue with each other about $1.00 raises and whether we should have compassion to provide a meal to the homeless or provide health care to the poor. 

The amount of money that would meaningfully raise us in the lower and middle strata to a comfortable life is a meaningless amount of money to the insanely rich. It is an amount of money that flows in and out of their hands in hours, in minutes.

How rich is insanely rich? I live in the median. I am just about exactly at the median in my country. I live a pretty comfortable life. Sometimes I get to have luxuries. Sometimes I worry about bills. I don’t have to worry about where my next meal comes from, and unless I am hit with unforeseen medical bills (the leading cause of poverty in the United States), I can anticipate continuing to live in roughly this level of comfort for a long time to come.

Take my income, or more precisely my wealth, and multiple it by a thousand.

And then take that number, and multiple it by a thousand.

What you get is still not quite the wealth of Bill Gates, the wealthiest man in the world.

You could take Bill Gates’ wealth and divide it amongst a million people and they would then have the comfortable life that I have. If you divided my wealth between two people you would have two people living in poverty.

Take the wealth of Bill Gates’ family members and divide that up too. Take the wealth of Warren Buffett (#2) and his family members, the wealth of Jeff Bezos (#3) and his family, the wealth of Amancio Ortega (#4) and his family members, and so on and so forth.

Take the wealth of Donald Trump and his family members, his lawyers, his global business partners. I mention Donald Trump here specifically because he is known for particularly awful business practices in which he actively steals money from or refuses to pay contractors and partners so that he can accumulate more wealth. I am two degrees separated from multiple people who have lost their small businesses or suffered extreme losses because of Trump’s willingness to find legal loopholes that actively harm people who are not wealthy like him – or, he simply illegally takes their money or refuses to pay them and has his lawyers embroil his victims in expensive legal battles until they run out of the money and/or the will to keep fighting.

Some people came to hate Trump and feel the tar stain of his name/brand with his presidential bid or the subsequent damage he has caused our country. The hipster in me says, naw, I’ve hated him for decades, long before it was cool.

Poverty is a lie. The wealth exists for us to have clean drinking water and food and health care and education – everyone on this planet. But this wealth is hoarded and is not available to 99% of us.

Many times in our society when people talk about redistributing wealth, we get caught up in our different understandings of the value of money. Because if you talk about raising taxes to pay for services for my country – which I personally feel is a civic duty, and a bargain – I think of my taxes and my perspective on the value of currency, which is set within that $1.00 raise/$10,000 annually being make or break. But remember, you can multiple my wealth by a thousand and a thousand again to hit the truly highest stratum. And hell, even those who are only a thousand times wealthier than me (only) are not going to hold the same value for money that I hold.

Increased taxes to the wealthy to pay for medical care or education or roads or clean energy subsidies would create extraordinary benefit for those of us in the median, and for those of us below the median, and even for many of us above the median. 

These increased taxes would not actually harm the wealthy; it would not make them un-wealthy. These increased taxes could actually benefit the poor and make them un-poor. 

Tax dollars could be taken from those for whom it holds little value and used to support those for whom it holds great value. The only value it holds to the wealthy is a sense of loss as the number signifying their wealth becomes slightly smaller. This is not actual loss. To the poor, it is the difference between medical debt poverty and a comfortable life. This is a real value.

Decreased CEO salaries and shareholder profits would likely result from increased wage-earner salaries and environmentally/socially sustainable business practices. These results would not actually make the CEOs and shareholders un-wealthy. But these results would actually raise the wage-earners out of poverty and drastically reduce pollution-related illnesses (and therefore medical debts) for the majority of people in this country (the wealthy tend not to be exposed to the same level of their pollutants as the rest of us). The “regulations” that the wealthy are constantly lamenting are basic environmental protections that keep the rest of us drinking clean water and breathing clean air. They do indeed cost money and may indeed reduce CEO salaries and shareholder profits, and you know what? They’ll still be wealthy. And we’ll be healthy.

This has value. This is worth it to me.

On Sincerity (AKA, letting go the sarcasm)

Last year following a contentious election cycle, I decided to de-memeify my life. The idea came from a few realizations.

1) People (myself included) rarely expressed their own opinions anymore, given the easy nature of the internet to share someone else's opinions.

2) People (myself included) were starting to get really bad at articulating their opinions, instead referring to others' thoughts on the topic.

3) People (myself included) were engaging in a lot of motivated internetting in which anything that overlapped with their own opinion was shared as a "good point" even when it wasn't a very good point.

4) I was getting really annoyed with all of this.

An update on dememeifying my internet life

So I decided to start change with myself. I stopped sharing memes with quick jokes that backed up my political opinions or opinion articles of the same -- UNLESS I added in my own thoughts. What I thought or felt or knew about the topic. Why it was important to me and why I thought it should be important to others. I did the same with heavy pieces, well-researched articles. I no longer posted interesting things adding only "THIS." to the conversation. I stopped sharing things unless I had something to add to the conversation, and the time and motivation to do so.


As an update, a few things I noticed immediately (within a week or so) from this life experiment:

1) The internet immediately became a lot less stressful to me because I no longer felt like I had to educate everyone and prove to everyone that I was educating myself. I started sharing a lot less.

2) I became a lot more thoughtful in my reading. WHY did this speak to me? WHY was this important? It felt like my brain was getting better.

3) I became more and more annoyed with other people's shares where they didn't tell me why it was important to them or why it would be worth my time to read and consider.


Some longer-term updates (where I'm at months later) in how all this is going:

1) I still share fewer things, though sometimes these days, I don't add myself into the conversation.

2) When I'm busy, and let's be frank, during the school year I'm almost always busy, I reserve my thoughts and my considerations and my shares. If I don't have time to engage, I don't engage.

3) I'm developing an IRL next step that initially felt like it was not connected, but the more I think about it, the more I think it's connected.

This brings us to Sarcasm and my use/overuse of it in my rhetorical life.

I realized my life was becoming implied.

I've been thinking for months about thinking, about articulating, about expressing, about honesty and truth and opinions and beliefs, about fake honesty and fake truth and opinions labeled as facts and beliefs labeled as facts and fake beliefs used to justify action but we all know that's not what you really believe, you're just pandering to your base.

With all of this, and with my recent experience trying to dememeify my life, I started noticing sarcasm in my conversations with others. This would be sarcasm that I use or others use in order to be funny or to make the opposite point in a funny/ironic way or to take the sting out of a hard truth or just out of simple laziness.

Let me explain the laziness part, because that's what got me thinking more and more about the downsides of sarcasm. I started to realize that in a lot of my conversations, sarcasm would be the default response to things. Meaning, I didn't have to *think* before I spoke, I would just open my mouth and let the sarcasm out. Sarcasm allows for this because you're not saying what you're actually thinking, so you don't have to be careful or thoughtful about what you're saying or how you're saying it. You just speak words, and then people smirk, and then the conversation continues.

I've had long conversations recently, even about personal or political or educational or other important topics, where neither party bothered to think out and articulate a clear and rational opinion. When you speak in sarcasm, you don't have to be precise. You don't have to be clear. You say a thing, and it is IMPLIED that you believe the opposite. You don't ever have to say what exactly the opposite is. You don't have to explain it or defend it or even think about it too much.

And I realized (to grossly overstate things) that my life and thoughts and opinions and knowledge... were all becoming implied.

With everything implicit and nothing explicit, what do you stand for? What do you think? How do you feel? What do you know? What do you still have to learn?  -- you don't have to focus on any of these things when the use of sarcasm becomes the lazy default in conversation.

I became concerned with how little I was being explicit in my thoughts and positions. And that's when I started thinking about sincerity. What is my truth? Can I speak it to others clearly? Can I just let people know what I think and feel and worry and laugh about? Can I just let people know how I feel about them? What I think about the world? What my position is on topics and in life?

With everything implicit and nothing explicit, what do you stand for? What do you think? How do you feel? What do you know? What do you still have to learn?  -- you don't have to focus on any of these things when the use of sarcasm becomes the lazy default in conversation.

Some years ago (7 of them), I gave up complaining for Lent and it changed my entire worldview.

I still haven't mastered dropping sarcasm out of my conversations, though I'm working on it. Already I'm starting to notice some change in the way I think (and maybe in how I interact?). I'm not sure yet about where this is going to go. I don't know yet if my entire worldview will change again like it did when I gave up complaining.

But this is where I'm at right now. I want to be sincere and thoughtful and honest in my words and actions. I want the rest of the world to be this as well, but I don't have control over that. So I'll start with myself.

When Does This Ever Work? Standing Rock and the Hawaiian Superferry

I submitted the following post about Standing Rock and the Hawaiian Superferry to an online newsblog last week. The following day, the Army Corps of Engineers announced that they would not be granting the easement that would allow the Dakota Access Pipeline to tunnel underneath Lake Oahe/the Missouri River. It was a huge win for the water protectors. However, the fight is not over. The water protectors remain at the camp for fear that DAPL will take the "better to ask forgiveness than permission" approach and continue construction despite the denied easement. The Army Corps of Engineers will be conducting an Environmental Impact Statement regarding the pipe's construction, and looking for alternative routes. The EIS will include public input, which means the tribes will have a say (finally) but this is a pause, not a full stop. The pipeline could still go forward through the same location, and will very likely go forward somewhere.

In the post below, I tell the story of the Hawaiian Superferry protests, which have been on my mind a lot lately. Many of the issues we have seen at Standing Rock are eerily similar to the events of the Superferry protests. As it happens, the easement denial and implementation of the EIS are more in a series of events echoing the 2007 protests. My timing may have been off for the news cycle, but I still want to share this post because as far as I am concerned, it is still highly relevant.

When Does This Ever Work?

Standing Rock and the Hawaiian Superferry

It can seem hopeless. The Standing Rock and Lakota Sioux have run through every legal, governmental, corporate, and media process open to them to oppose the Dakota Access Pipeline (DAPL). Treaties have been broken and the bones of ancestors have been unearthed, all for a pipeline that will put Reservation water at risk for contamination. With no other recourse left, the water protectors have put their bodies in the way of the pipeline.

It seems impossible that this could work. So let me tell you a story.

In August, 2007, the small, rural island of Kauai in Hawai‘i made national news when a massive protest erupted in a classic battle of people versus corporate-driven-state interests. The Hawaiian Superferry launched two massive catamarans from the urban island of Oʻahu to two neighbor islands, Kauai and Maui. They had spent years trying to stop it, but nothing worked. In Kauai, residents decided they had no option left but to put their bodies in the way of the ferry.

On August 26^th, when the ferry arrived at Nawiliwili Harbor, dozens of people jumped into the water and blocked the dock on surfboards, canoes, and kayaks. When the way was eventually cleared for the ferry to dock, hundreds more gathered at the docks to block cars from unloading, again with nothing more than their bodies.

I remember watching the news from urban Oʻahu and hearing reports from corporate and state representatives that these backwards protesters were blocking progress for no reason. But I’ve been a protester before. I know you don’t jump into the ocean to spend hours physically blocking a nearly 400ft long vessel for no reason. So I went to Kauai, and I asked why.

The Superferry and the state were operating illegally. They were required to conduct an environmental impact survey (EIS) before conducting massive harbor renovations on Maui and Kauai to support the ferry, but they didn’t do it. When a lawsuit threatened to force them comply with the law, the state attempted to change it in an emergency session – which was an unconstitutional move. These under-handed actions raised more suspicion and more scrutiny. More concerns were raised, and all of them ignored.

The cars ferried over could easily bring mites, bugs, and seeds in tire treads and undercarriages, transmitting invasive species from island to island and undermining conservation efforts. The high-speed ferry endangered the whale sanctuary surrounding the island. And protesters were concerned about their way of life. The Superferry promised to bring development and urbanization, which Kauaians did not want. It could also bring urban crime across islands; people could ferry from Oʻahu, break into homes or steal natural resources, and bring their loaded cars right back to Oʻahu (which happened).

Kauai residents had spent years saying these things, trying to hold the state and the corporation accountable for the impacts they would suffer. They had attended town hall meetings, demanded an EIS be conducted, called on their legislators for support (who were overruled by the majority from Oʻahu), written letters to the editor (to their own island news outlets), and basically exercised every legal, governmental, corporate, and media process open to them to block the ferry from launching without significant environmental and cultural considerations being address.

All of this fell on deaf ears. And so they put their bodies in the way.

Just like the water protectors at Standing Rock, the Superferry protesters were falsely presented as being violent by the state and corporate interests and by the media, while instead they were met by a grossly excessive police and military response. The protesters held their ground, so to speak, in the water and at the dock. Despite the escalation of state forces, they were unable to subdue the protests. The ferry was unable to get through to dock a second time, and was forced to turn around and return to Oʻahu.

The protesters stayed. And they won.

After two days of resistance, the Superferry halted service to Kauai indefinitely. Simultaneously, an ongoing court battle on the island of Maui compelled the Superferry to suspend service while an EIS was conducted. After years of court battles, the Superferry was permanently quashed.

Let me be clear. Service to Kauai was suspended and never reinstated due to the peaceful but persistent resistance of physical protests blocking the ferry from docking in August, 2007. Meanwhile, legal battles temporarily halted service to Maui, but it began again in December and continue on until March, 2009, when the court finally ruled against the state and corporate actions. It was the long-term legal battle that ultimately defeated the Superferry in Hawai‘i. The physical stance of the protesters in Kauai stopped service to that one location.

Winning at Standing Rock, Winning against DAPL.

The Dakota Access Pipeline was originally slated to be placed upriver of Bismarck. This was blocked due to the threat of water contamination at that location, but the pipeline, its contamination threat to water and ecosystem, and its contribution to fossil fuel-driven climate change, were not defeated. DAPL remains. The fight remains.

Our resistance to DAPL must be at multiple fronts: 

• The water protectors at Standing Rock are providing our country an essential service by placing their bodies peacefully and persistently in the way of construction. If you can join them, join them. If you can’t, support them so they can maintain their work on our behalf.
• It is simultaneously essential that we make our voices heard that this pipeline is not in our best interests. Sign the petition urging the federal government to halt pipeline construction. 
•  Contact your elected officials, tell them what you (their constituents) believe so they can best represent you. Tell them about your support for the water protectors, your support for a clean environment, your support for efforts to move away from fossil fuels and toward clean energy. Ask them to take the same stance. Contact them repeatedly. Be heard. 
• Support the lawsuits against DAPL and the legal defense funds supporting the water protectors.  
• Write letters to every media outlet that is poorly covering this fight and demand they do better.

And don’t let up the pressure. Ever. Not until our water is safe. Not until DAPL is gone. Not until we are pouring money into solar and wind instead of oil and gas. Not until we have the future we want. Not until our water protectors are safe from militarized police, not until they have won.

And when all else fails and your voice is not being heard, put your body in the way. Make a stand.

Ain't Just a River

I've been thinking about the Black Lives Matter movement. I've been thinking about black and brown folks being shot during what should have been a routine encounter with police. I've been thinking about the videos I've watched of these encounters. I've been thinking about the trials, the outrage, the demonstrations, the facebook hashtags. I've been thinking about other folks saying "it's just a few bad apples" or some other dismissive remark. I've been thinking about how many times I've let my outrage go, moved on to other things.

I've been thinking about Standing Rock and the protectors out there. I've been thinking about how the pipeline was moved from upriver of Bismarck to upriver of the Res because it was thought to be a threat to water quality. I've been thinking about how minorities are disproportionately exposed to environmental pollutants, environmental devastation. I've been thinking about the treaties we've broken with the Natives here, and yet still we take, still we demand, still we pollute, still we leave nothing but devastation. I've been thinking about other folks saying "but that wasn't me, it's not all America" or some other remark minimizing our gain. I've been thinking about how many times I've let my outrage go, moved on to other things.

I've been thinking about Muslims. And Mexicans. And immigrants. And refugees. And trans folks. And queer folks. And women. I've been thinking about how much discussion there has been in our public and political spheres these past two years about our various rights, as people, our various experiences, as people, our various oppressions, as people, our various threats, as people. I've been thinking about other folks saying "yes, but" over and over and over again.

Trump bragged about assaulting women and outrage arose, and sustained, and I felt it personally and professionally because suddenly sexual assault permeated every moment of my life at home and at work and on the internet and still, still, still. I couldn't help wondering.

Why is this worse than the other things? Is it just because it finally touched straight, cis-gendered white people? Did I care?

Because here is something else I've been thinking about. In May 2015, when Rep. Keith Ellison said that Trump might wind up leading the Republican ticket, George Stephanopoulos and the others at the table laughed. And later, some pundit or comedian, maybe John Oliver or Trevor Noah I'm not sure, made the point that you know, minorities have been saying for months, for years, forever, that things were bad in this country. That racism still exists, and is still bad, and is still impacting our everyday lives and permeating our existence. Maybe we should have been listening.

Finally, it seemed, people were listening.

And then it still wasn't enough.

Last week when Trump surrogates started using the Japanese Internment Camps as proof of legal precedent for a Muslim registry program, I heard a pundit on NPR (apologies, I don't know who or what program) say that he believed we may be one traumatic event away from the mass hysteria required to make something like this a reality in our country again. The host responded with frank disbelief. I thought back to Rep. Ellison's comment and the hosts' laughter and I thought, "We're still not listening."

I've been walking this line lately as I think. I'm trying to avoid alarmism. I'm trying to avoid not listening. I think it is time to take this seriously, this undercurrent of desperation-fueled hate that is gripping our country. Because I see white supremacists re-marketing themselves "alt right" and flooding back into the mainstream with blatantly neo-Nazi slogans and chants and speeches and memes and news media. And I want to say things like "it's just a few bad apples" or "that's not me, that's not all America" or "yes, but" over and over and over again.

I don't want to dismiss this, diminish it. I don't want to deny the information before my eyes, stand firmly in denial of the truths that have been repeated again and again by Black and Native and Muslim and Latino people, by immigrants and refugees and trans folks and queer folks and women.

In psychology, the term "denial" doesn't mean to say something doesn't exist or is not happening. If I am in denial about losing my job, it does not mean that I show up to work on Monday. Rather, "denial," in psychology, means to minimize the importance of something that is important. If I am in denial about losing my job, I say it is the best thing that ever happened to me even has my electricity gets shut off because finally I have me-time.

Are we in denial about how racist this country is? How sexist? How xenophobic? Saying "yes, but" and dismissing it in this way or that so that we never take seriously the severity of the problem that remains?

Are we in denial about Trump's policies, his appointments (white supremacists, climate change deniers, oh and a new billionaire secretary of education who wants to defund public schools), his plans?

Are we being realistic by saying "this isn't America" or are we dismissing real concerns? Are we being reasonable by saying "few bad apples" or are we diminishing the true implications of these steps?

I don't want to be an alarmist. But I don't want to be in denial.

How To Be An Ally 101

I made up the following into brief hand-outs to share at a rally at the State Capitol today.

How To Be An Ally 101

Generally in life:

• Get involved in political actions. Be visible through demonstrations and community meetings so others know they are not alone. Bonus impact: you learn that you are not alone.
• Educate yourself and others. It is NOT the responsibility of the oppressed to educate the oppressor. We all have google. Use it.
• “Act from a place where you are not the center.” Find out what oppressed groups need from you and do that. Don’t make decisions for them on their behalf. They know their lives and their needs better than you do – this is not a judgment on your knowledge, just a fact of their life experience. Don’t know what they need? Ask.

In a moment of confrontation:

• Physically move your body to stand with the person being threatened or harassed.
• Speak to that person to make it clear you are standing with that person. (Ask them if they are okay, or talk to them about the weather – direct your conversation to that person, not to the aggressor)
• If there is violence, physically protect the person if you can. Otherwise, call 911 and/or video record the attack for evidence. 
• Stay. Stay to provide testimony. Stay to provide emotional support – as the adrenaline of the situation subsides, other emotions arise.
• Remember the bystander effect: When others are standing idly by, they may be looking for cues from others present about what they should do. The very act of someone doing something makes it more likely that others will act as well. It only takes one person’s action to break the bystander effect. Remember that you can be that person to act.

The Thought Experiment

A few months ago, Michael agreed to humor me on a thought experiment I needed to work through. I had been hearing a lot of folks saying things like, "Surely conservatives will see how crazy and dangerous Trump is. Surely they would choose to vote someone they disagree with who at least knows what they're doing."

And I wondered: "Surely?" Can we really say "surely?" Would they? 

If the tables were turned, truly turned, would I?

If nothing else, this thought experiment has revealed to me that the politics in our country have taken a sincere turn toward the ridiculous.

What follows is a recreation of the thought experiment we devised in order to help me find that answer (would I do what we were asking conservatives to do in voting for Clinton). And what follows that is the update of that thought experiment -- namely, were I in their shoes via these turned tables, what would I do now?

Full disclosure, what follows is ridiculous. Further full disclosure, this ridiculousness really is the closest I was legitimately able to create to give myself the full emotional and cognitive 'turned tables' experience. If nothing else, this thought experiment has revealed to me that the politics in our country have taken a sincere turn toward the ridiculous.

Premise: Were the tables turned, and liberals had a Trump-like figure and Conservatives had a Clinton-like figure, would I vote for the "other side's" Clinton-like figure once it became clear that "our" Trump-like figure was crazy and incompetent and dangerous?

Michael points out that Clinton is a moderate, though she toes the party line on many things as well. Would a Clinton-like figure be someone like Mitt Romney?

And no, Romney wouldn't do it. Not for me, not for this thought experiment. You see, conservatives disagree with many of Clinton's policies, that is true. But it's not just that. Additionally, they have a profound hatred for her, a base-level distrust. To get the full emotional punch of casting that vote, not even rich-dude Romney is sufficient. Not even any of our elected officials whose policies I really, really disagree with. To fill this "Clinton-like" role, I needed someone that I view with profound hatred and a base-level distrust. And for this thought experiment, the answer was clear:

Karl Rove.

Here's the thing about Karl Rove. I have no doubt that he is politically knowledgeable and savvy. The qualifications are obviously there. I have no doubt that I disagree with close to 100% of his policies. Honestly, we may overlap in some places but the very idea of agreeing with Karl Rove on ANYTHING is so odious to me that I have trouble admitting that possibility. I truly believe that Karl Rove is a prime example of what is wrong in politics today. He plays dirty, legally and illegally. He started his career by fake-bugging his own office right before an election just to cast doubt on the other side. He knew he'd get caught, but he knew it'd be too late and people wouldn't care too much after the fact. He was right. And it only got worse from there.

I believe him to be a slimy, untrustworthy person. I believe everything he touches in our nation becomes less honest and less good. You wanna get that vitriolic, visceral, emotional reaction from me... the reaction that seemed to be driving so many conservatives away from Clinton even when, you know, she's kind of a Republican? Karl Rove's your man.

And so I had my Republican, Clinton-like headliner: Karl Rove.

Eugh, even just typing his name that many times has made my heart dirty.

And so what about a Democratic ticket? A liberal Trump-like figure who would be actively dangerous to many people in our country, who says scary things, incites violence and hatred among some of his followers, who makes up ridiculous policies, and who inspires some while making others fear for their literal lives and safety?

We couldn't come up with anyone, not anyone who was charismatic and terrifying in turns. Trump is unprecedented in our country, at least in our modern times.

So what did we do? We made someone up. More accurately, we took a real someone and then fictionalized that someone into something Trump-like. Hear me out on this one, because we're taking that turn toward the ridiculous now. I proposed R. Kelly.

I know, I know. And I apologize to R. Kelly and his family and friends and fans for what I'm about to do. It's not fair and it's not real. But it's the best I could do in this thought experiment.

To stir up the legitimate fear that many Americans have of Trump and his policies, to make the liberal equivalent of those policies and a conservative equivalent of those fears, we had to seriously fictionalize this bid for the Democratic ticket.

Let's start with the reality of R. Kelly. R. Kelly the real person is already Trump-like in the following ways: he's charismatic, he's talented, he's successful, he's got a mainstream following as well as a cult-like following. He's got a problematic personal background. You know, Trump is known as a womanizer, a bigot, and screws people over in his business practices for the purposes of his own success. R. Kelly has peed on minors. Their fans are apparently willing to overlook these things because of the aforementioned charisma and talent and success. People who are not fans but who also don't hate them... kinda don't care about them for the most part. For those folks, R. Kelly and Trump are folks that you mostly ignore while you pay attention to politics or other important things. Periodically they pop up on your radar, but they don't stay there, and they certainly aren't people you would expect to seriously run for President.

But. But. But. It's not enough. Real R. Kelly gives us a baseline candidate walking into the primaries. But to really stir up the legitimate fear that many Americans have of Trump and his policies, to make the liberal equivalent of those policies and a conservative equivalent of those fears, we had to fictionalize R. Kelly and his bid for the Democratic ticket. So let me tell you the story of tRump Kelly's candidacy:

1.
Trump mocked a disabled reporter, which is pretty odious.
tRump Kelly, what?, mocks old people that criticize him? Sure, he does that.

2.
Trump said Mexicans are rapists, criminals and drug dealers, and some, he assumes, are good people.
tRump Kelly says White men are rapists, alcoholics, and drug addicts, and some, he assumes, are good people.

Special note here -- I'm trying to play to a couple of stereotypes here. First, let's say that many conservatives do not actually think that Mexicans are rapists and drug dealers. But we'd also have to say that they're okay voting for someone to be President who says that they are. The equivalent here is the assumption that most liberals do not actually think that White men are rapists, alcoholics, and drug addicts, but perhaps they'd be willing to overlook or minimize that statement as "no big deal" since to seriously consider the weight of that statement would mean we'd have to vote for Karl Rove. Meanwhile, White guys and their allies across the country are screaming, "Did you not hear what tRump Kelly said? How could you vote for that guy? That is a disqualifying statement."

3.
Trump says he'll build a wall along the southern border and Mexico will pay for it.
tRump Kelly said that under his Presidency, there would be a hiring freeze on White people until every person of color had a job.

A bit of a leap, I know, but here's my rationale: both of those policies are racist and frankly, economically unsound. The wall is meant to stop Mexicans from ruining the country, which means there is a racist presumption that latinos would ruin the country. It's not about security or drug trafficking, because this is a blanket hatred cast over every latino man, woman, and child no matter who they are. The hiring freeze would be meant to undo white supremacy, cast blanket over every White person without regard to their individual personhood.

Presumably, real conservatives were able to overlook the fact that this racist policy, if implemented, would bankrupt the country because in reality-land, we'd be the ones to pay for it. Maybe they think it's all talk and wouldn't really happen.

Presumable, fictionalized liberals would be able to overlook the fact that this racist policy, if implemented, would drive the economy into the toilet. Maybe they'd think it was all talk and wouldn't really happen.

4.
Trump says he'll create a Muslim registry.
tRump Kelly says that all religious leaders will have to register, and swear an oath of loyalty to the state (à la Mussolini making teachers swear an oath to the state).

Again, here we're trying to find something that most liberals would think was a bad idea, for many, many reasons, but may possibly be willing to overlook or discount or minimize in the right conditions (ahem, alternative is voting for Karl Rove). But a bad idea that specifically strikes fear into the hearts of conservatives, who would never, never overlook it because to them it is so obviously terrifying.

5.
Trump says he'll have the military conduct war crimes, including torture and killing family members of terrorists.
tRump Kelly says he'll imprison Wall Street bankers who created the 2008 financial meltdown in Guantanamo Bay or Abu Ghraib.

Seriously, is there anyone for whom you would really look the other way if they were tortured or killed? There's not for me, but I might not take my fictional candidate seriously if he said this, even if he said it over and over and created sample policy that would make this happen.

6.
Trump brags about sexually assaulting women, and then a dozen women allege he sexual assaulted them.
tRump Kelly, physically assaults men and brags about it.

Would I take these things seriously? Would I trust the checks and balances of our system to temper the crazy?

Eh, I could go on, but I think here is enough for the sake of this thought experiment. In this fictionalized world, we have two major political candidates.

On the Republican ticket, we've got Karl Rove, a man whom I believe to be knowledgeable and politically savvy, but whom I distrust and who makes me feel a visceral, nauseating sort of hatred-suspicion whenever I hear him talk politics.

On the Democratic ticket, we've got tRump Kelly, a charismatic, talented, and successful non-politician with an unsettling personal background who let's say for the sake of argument puts forth a lot of normal Democratic policies, says he'll clean out the corruption of the party and Washington in general, but who also says and does crazy, incompetent, and dangerous things. He doesn't seem to understand the Constitution or how the government works. He says blatantly racist things and talks about policies that would target specific groups of people in ways that would diminish their rights and liberty as protected by the laws of our country and the Geneva Convention. He brags about beating up men, riles up his supporters to attack bankers and white people, to distrust and maybe even attack religious leaders.

Would I take these things seriously? Would I trust the checks and balances of our system to temper the crazy? Would I shrug and think, 'he's all talk, and at least he's not Karl Rove?'

Would I uphold my actual principles and my actual believes in equality and justice... and vote for Karl Rove?

Would I?

To be honest, I never quite figured out an answer to this hypothetical, which maybe makes it a good hypothetical. Maybe. I made up a bunch of far flung, ridiculous possibilities in an attempt to develop a commiserate gravitas in situation and ethics and emotionality. I tried to develop ideas of things that I might be willing to think, "that can't be real; it's all talk." Threats to people I might dismiss as not serious. Proposed policies whose importance I might diminish, or might think "that could never happen; why are people afraid?"

But when it comes down to it, it's all stuff I made up. It's NOT real. It's NOT serious. It's NOT going to happen. And so I could not ever trust myself to make a real decision about this ridiculous thought experiment because it just wasn't real.

Then last week, Trump got elected. And since then, people I know and thousands of others have been threatened, harassed, and made to feel physically unsafe because they are liberal, or women, or people of color, or immigrants, or queer, or multiple of the above. The country has actually become less safe because so many people were galvanized by the victory of Trump, the real Trump, who really did do all of those things linked above, and who really is moving forward with policies and rhetoric designed to stir up hatred and fear and to take away the rights and liberty of Americans.

Many of us have been galvanized to response action -- joining protests, speaking out, attending meetings, donating to advocacy groups, and more.

This led me to The Thought Experiment, Part II: What if tRump Kelly, fictionalized crazy candidate as outlined above, actually won the election? What would I do?

Would I call for everyone to forget the past and come together now?

Would I continue to dismiss the crazy as "just talk," or diminish its importance?

Would I call on folks to give him a chance because not all of the stuff he says is unconstitutional war crimes?

Would I blame his followers, liberals mind you, who are now going out an harassing and threatening priests and bankers and spray paining "Whitie" on people's cars, calling them just a few fringe nuts? -- most of us aren't like that so could you stop saying it's all liberals who supported these things?

Or would I stand up and speak out against the wrong actions, the wrong policies, the crazy, dangerous rhetoric and Cabinet choices and policy agendas?

Would I be able to find a way to say, Okay, I support this policy, but this other one is crazy and does not represent us?

Would I find a way to block the crazy we'd just voted into office before it got even more dangerous?

Would I speak out against the people harassing and threatening others?

Would I do any of these things?

Would you?