On Civility and Campaign 2016

When I was growing up in the South, I called grownups sir and ma’am. I called the parents of my friends Mr. or Mrs. So-and-so. I also got my mouth washed out with soap for saying “shut-up.”

On matters of manners, my mother ran a tight ship. We had to say “please” and “thank you.” Writing thank-you notes was the 11^th commandment, or maybe the 6^th, right after “Honour thy father and mother.” We children were more often seen than heard.

Of course, that was in the bucolic 1950s. Then, my family left the South and went West just in time for the 1960s and to be near the epicenter of flower children, free speech, and the counterculture.

I wore tie-dye and bell bottom jeans and protested Vietnam, but I still said “please” and “thank you.”

Yet, after watching a candidate for the highest office in the land on the stage of Hofstra University interrupting, sputtering, and spewing “Not!” and “Wrong!” before a national, even global, audience, I have to ask where in the world has civility gone?  Did my generation of protestors, hippies, and flower children flouting authority start us down the slope to where we are today?

As Professor Walter E. Williams of George Mason University writes, “Starting in the 1960s, the values that made for civility came under attack.” Dr. Williams talks about banning corporal punishment half a century ago as being a forerunner for today’s lack of civility.

I was smacked with a ruler by my 2^nd grade teacher for not putting my pencil down and sent to the office for chewing gum in 7^th grade. Yes, I was quite the wild child.

Not!

The point is there were consequences for bad behavior – whether it was a soapy mouth or a ruler swatting or being sent to the office. So, how did someone of my generation – just a few years older – grow up to be so unruly, surly, and rude?

Enter “Donald Trump” and “grade school” on Google and you’re quickly led to descriptions of an incorrigible child at Kew-Forest School in Queens, NY.  If only Donald Trump had had my parents or my teachers.  

I suspect class and privilege played a big part in young Donny getting a pass from those teachers and administrators. The little rich child got away with big talk, swagger, and bullying.

But, he was abruptly sent to military boarding school when he was 13, TheWashington Post reports. 

To me, it looks like he needed a much stronger institution than the New York Military Academy where instead of military order the emphasis was on fighting, hazing, and male dominance.

He learned those lessons well.

Here’s what’s worrying and it takes me back to the ‘60s again to the Graham Nash song “Teach Your Children Well.”

Election 2016 is not teaching our children well. With the Republican candidate we are telling our children that cruelty, crudity, and lying is okay. We are saying it’s acceptable to be racist, intolerant, and bigoted and still be a candidate to be the leader of the free world. We are tacitly admitting that being bellicose and belligerent is admirable.

Not!

Those are bad lessons. They are the direct opposite of the misogynist candidate’s favorite adjective. Those lessons are terrible, not terrific.

As developmental psychologist Dr. Roberta Michnick told Vanity Fair,  “Our children are being exposed to a role model that is horrendous… And he’s already had an impact. There are examples in which he has disinhibited people, and children, from saying negative and racist things about others.”

  

With this fellow – he’s no gentlemen – on the national stage consuming so much airtime and so much of our finite genteel oxygen I’m worried about civility, about kindness, and about empathy.

That’s worries me a lot.  But, the future of our country worries me even more.  

This bully must be stopped.

And it is up to us. All of us. That’s my message on National Voter Registration Day.

Woman's Best Friend, Piper, Oct. 5, 2001 - July 22, 2016

Taking a Stand By Sitting Down

The title is mine. The text is a letter our daughter wrote to her elected representatives after the Orlando massacre at the Pulse nightclub. It's timely today with the powerful action by some elected representatives, including her congressman Gerald Connolly, sitting on the U.S. House of Representatives floor demanding action on gun control.

I wish I had such principled representatives. Mine are among the top recipients of NRA funds. Here's to addressing this serious problem and here's to citizens, like Jocelyn Dorfman, and to elected representatives like Connolly, John Lewis, and Donna Edwards, who are taking a stand by sitting down. 

Dear Congressman Connolly,

My name is Jocelyn Dorfman, and I am your constituent in the 11^th District. As my elected official, you are my representative in the Congress. I know that you do not undertake that challenge lightly. I also know that I am one of many voices you were elected to represent. Please consider this letter providing my perspective as a resident and preschool teacher in Fairfax County.

Every day, it is my responsibility and privilege to guide 15 three- and four-year-olds through the challenges of life. I teach them that hands are not for hitting, that mean words can hurt a friend’s feelings, and that we wash our hands after using the bathroom and before eating. I teach them to take a moment to consider a friend’s point of view; to listen when it is their friend’s turn to speak; and to be respectful of their friends, their teachers, and their families. I teach them these things so that they can be ready for kindergarten and school when the time comes, yes – but I also teach them these things so that they can be good citizens of the world. Watching, reading, and listening to the news sometimes makes me feel as if most adults have long forgotten these basic lessons.

I am also a student of American history and government. I know that the United States Constitution is one of the most important documents ever written. However, I also know that it is important to consider the time in which it was written. When Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, Alexander Hamilton, and the other founding fathers codified this document, it took approximately one minute to load and shoot one bullet with a Brown Bess or Flintlock rifle. When they agonized over every single word of each sentence in the Constitution and the Bill of Rights, they knew it was important enough to include “a well-regulated militia” in the Second Amendment. I know that it took me several weeks and some very long trips to the Department of Motor Vehicles to get my driver’s license, vehicle safety inspection, and vehicle registration; it should not be easier than that process to purchase a machine that has no other purpose than to hurt, maim, and kill.

This past weekend, I was visiting the parents who raised me to be aware of the world around me and to be a responsible citizen. I consider myself lucky that I was with them when I woke up to the news that 50 people were killed and even more were injured in Orlando, Florida.

I have a Master of Science in psychology; I am more than aware of the impact mental illnesses can have upon a person. However, the ease and simplicity of the process by which a mentally ill individual can obtain a semi- or automatic killing machine is horrifying. We will learn much in the coming days and weeks about the assailant’s history and potential motivations, but we already know that he was able to obtain and use a weapon designed with the sole purpose of killing a lot of people quickly.

A United States citizen purchased that weapon legally. A citizen who had been investigated by the FBI more than once and who had a history of domestic violence.

In April 1999, at the time of the mass murders at Columbine High School, I was nearing the end of my fourth grade year. At nine years old, I had to process the fact that I might be unsafe in school, a place of fun and learning. Those fears came to fruition in December 2012 when I woke to the news that twenty children had been murdered. The fact that this timeline left out Virginia Tech, which happened during my own freshman year of college; Waco, Aurora, Roseburg, and countless others leaves me nauseated.

At some point, we have to stand up to the NRA and say enough is enough. Let the CDC and other research bodies investigate gun safety. Let there be a legal and prescribed process for obtaining, registering, and re-registering weapons. Let me be able to know that my fifteen students will be safe. 

I am asking you to hear and understand that as your constituent I would like you to vote for, introduce, or otherwise support at least some common sense gun regulation. When flying to visit my parents, I could not carry on a bottle of shampoo greater than 3 ounces – but tomorrow I could walk into a gun store and legally purchase an AR-15.

Let’s require a gun license. Let’s require gun safety courses, like driver’s education. Let’s check people’s eyesight, and also check if they’ve committed a crime since the last time they registered their weapon. Let’s make it so that if you want a more deadly weapon than a shotgun or a handgun, you have to go through a more rigorous process. Let’s make sure that people being watched by the FBI either aren’t allowed to buy guns, or at the very least, make sure that the FBI is immediately made aware of the purchase. Let’s keep guns out of the hands of known perpetrators of intimate partner violence.

I am a native Virginian, and I consider myself lucky to have been born and raised in this great Commonwealth. I am also very lucky to have been raised by two conscientious parents who intentionally moved to a county and state that provided high quality public education, who raised me to be aware of the bigger picture of my county, state, and country; and who raised me to be a citizen of the world. As such, I have always been active in politics at every level, from handing out sample ballots as a five-year-old to working on my father’s school board campaign to voting in every possible election since I was first eligible.

Yet, this is the first time I have written to my elected official.

I write to you now because enough is enough. Thoughts and prayers, while comforting, are not enough. No moment of silence can bring back Edward Sotomayor Jr., Luis S. Vielma, and Kimberly Morris, much less the thousands of individuals who perish from automatic weapons every single year in our country.

Thank you for reading this. You are my elected official. Please hear my voice and make my voice heard in these matters. Please know that hands are not for hitting or for holding assault rifles in our communities.

I’m counting on you to do the right thing.

  

Sincerely,

Jocelyn Dorfman

Why I'm With Her

“You say you want a revolution

Well, you know

We all want to change the world”

This Democrat wants to change the world and make it better for everyone.

Other than a flirtation with socialism when I was in college, I’ve always been a Democrat, who doesn’t believe in handouts, as some in the other party paint us, but in giving a helping hand.

Our nation used to be known for its helping hands with programs like Social Security, Medicare, unemployment insurance, Earned Income Tax Credit, and Medicaid, especially if your state, like the District of Columbia, Maryland, and 29 others, accepted the federal government’s expansion offer.  In my state, well, our legislature is sitting on its hands and forfeiting millions of dollars that would extend health care coverage to thousands of people.

Yet, in our nation, we’re proud of our heritage: “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.” You can find that on the Statue of Liberty’s pedestal.

I'm with her:  Lady Liberty. I’m also with Jane Addams, Marian Anderson, Susan B. Anthony, and so many others who broke barriers, did what they knew was right, and redefined what American women could be.

And, I’m with her, Secretary Clinton. I fully support her candidacy for president. I agree with the National Women’s Political Caucus, the Congressional Black Caucus PAC, the Congressional Hispanic Caucus PAC, and many more:  Hillary Clinton is the most qualified candidate. I’m with Secretary Clinton’s knowledge and experience – at home and around the world – as well as her dedication to social justice, health care, reproductive freedom, and the rights of working Americans.

There’s a candidate, not exactly a Democrat, running for the Democratic nomination. His talk about revolution has captured the enthusiasm of many (and the reckless misbehavior of far too many).

As a communicator, I love the “Feel the Bern” slogan. As a progressive, I like the ideas. I agree with tuition-free college, universal health care, and fixing the egregious income inequality in this nation. But, the devil is in the details.

You say you got a real solution

Well, you know

We'd all love to see the plan

The only candidate for president this election cycle who has a plan, specifics, knowledge, and a long record of getting things done – things that matter across classes and races and nations – is Secretary Clinton.

And, yes, there have been scandals, investigations, and rumors dogging Secretary Clinton and her husband for years. I double-dog dare you to name them all.  As David Graham writes in the Jan. 29, 2016, issue of The Atlantic, “No other American politicians...have fostered the creation of a permanent multimillion-dollar cottage industry devoted to attacking them."

Yes, there’s a lot of mud being thrown. A lot of it sticks. Like fried eggs on a steel pan.

Ronald Reagan was known as the Teflon president. Congresswoman Pat Schroeder came up with that image one morning when she was frying eggs. Like a Teflon-coated pan, nothing seemed to stick to Reagan.  He was, after all, the Great Communicator. He stayed on message.

And, that’s what Senator Sanders does. He stays on message. And stays on message some more.

The candidate trying to hijack the Democratic Party and its established processes, in addition to John Lennon’s “Revolution” lyrics reminds me of Lesley Gore’s hit, “It’s My Party.”

Senator Sanders, it is not your party. You are an Independent who caucuses with Democrats in Congress.  You can cry if you want to, but it is not your party.

I decided I’m with her on Oct. 22, 2015, the day of the endless hearing before the House Select Committee on Benghazi. That showed me that while Secretary Clinton may not be made of Teflon, she is a woman of steel.

Maybe I’m on to something. If she were not so strong, she might not be so embattled.

I’m with her. I want a woman of steel with strong experience. I want Hillary Clinton in the White House, in foreign capitals, leading the Executive Branch, working with Congress, and nominating Supreme Court justices. 

Secretary Clinton gets it -- public service is hard, it’s important, it requires putting yourself on the line. Running for the highest office in the land puts you in the limelight and under the spotlight.

Still, she persists. That’s how you help others help themselves. That’s how to make America a great nation of helping hands.

I don’t want a revolution. I want an evolved electorate that supports the most qualified candidate.

That’s a lot to hope for. Yet, hope won the last two times.

Note: This is an edited version of a blog posted last week. And as to the controversy surrounding her use of a private server at the State Department and the recent Inspector General report, here's an observant take on that by Ed Kilgore at NewYork Magazine:

http://nymag.com/daily/intelligencer/2016/05/big-problem-with-coverage-of-clinton-emails.html

April Fools

“April is the cruelest month.” That’s what T. S. Eliot wrote.

For North Carolina, the month just ended takes that dishonor. The capstone of our state’s cruelty: sweeping anti-LGBT legislation passed on Mar. 23 by a specially called session of the Republican-led General Assembly. Our governor signed the bill within hours.

No transparency. No discussion. Just discrimination, hate, and as N.C. Policy Watch Executive Director Chris Fitzsimon writes, a “carefully orchestrated mix of fear, fundamentalist ideology and political expediency.”

Speaking of fear, the king of fear-mongering showed up in our town earlier in the bitter month of March.  The day before the NC primary, candidate Trump came to Hickory to elicit more media attention, solicit votes, and drive more wedges into a polarized community. Our local university, Lenoir-Rhyne, doing its proper free-society duty, opened its Lutheran doors for what had no prayer of being an open discussion.

I bicycled through the campus the evening before the rally. The company arranging the chairs on the stage for our national Titanic was named, “It’s My Party.” If those three words do not describe this man’s approach to our democracy, what does?

Trump supporters line up in the early morning fog.

Our town's Trump event, carefully choreographed by his hate handlers, was more peaceful than others. There were confrontations, yes, arrests and injuries, but they were modest compared with Chicago, Fayetteville, and others.  I credit this relative peacefulness to our rally’s organizers – professors, staff, and students -- and to the Lutherans. 

I’ve never seen so many clerical collars in one place.  When the clergy started arriving, like swallows to Capistrano, I was comforted. And, this flock sings, knows all the words, and even brings songsheets for the rest of us. Vastly outnumbered by the supporters in line to see Trump, protesters – young and old, black and white -- stood in front of the school’s Grace Chapel and sang, creating a harmonious counterpart to the Trump line that snaked across and around the campus.

In front of Lenoir-Rhyne University's Grace Chapel

I had to leave early – yes, I missed the main event – because I teach in the mountains on Mondays and Wednesdays. The fog shrouding Hickory lifted as I traveled farther away from the cloud Mr. Trump brings wherever he goes.

Days later, the darkness returned with the NC general assembly’s hateful legislation. I thought the dark planet was fiction in Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time. Instead, North Carolina seems to be competing for the Camazotz title.

Yet, Hickory's own Mrs. Whatsit -- Garrison Keillor -- arrived yesterday evening to fight the dark thing at the same auditorium that hosted Donald Trump and his acolyte Chris Christie.

A packed house. Keillor ambled on stage, which held only a wooden stool. He arrived early, before the start time, before the announcements, before the formal introductions. With flapping jacket and baggy pants, in a red tie and red socks, before our eyes, he became a human pitch pipe. He hummed. He started singing “My County Tis of Thee.” We all – 1,450 souls – joined in. We sang another song. And then another. We sang “The Battle Hymn of the Republic” the national anthem, and ended our prelude with the Beatles’ “I Saw Her Standing There.” The audience members over 60, much of the crowd, knew those lyrics.

Our unaccompanied voices created a cleansing. No, this could not be the same hall that housed hate just days before. It was sacred, a place of harmony not discord. Sure, there were jokes about not being trumped and about restrooms, given the new NC law, but the gentle American humorist and storyteller, in his sonorous radio voice, assured us we were one country.  Everything would be okay. And then it was. He transported us to Lake Woebegone with tales of a crazy uncle, a large dog, a bowling ball urn, a pontoon boat, and more. 

The fog lifted. There was light. We were united by laughter.

That’s how you bring people together … with joy and song and humor.

That’s a place where I want to live.

Note:  Here’s a wonderful recent article Garrison Keillor wrote cautioning Americans who are thinking about emigrating if Trump becomes president.