Mar 082018
 

Parkland shooting teen survivorsYou see them after every tragedy: the husbands, wives, mothers, fathers, friends, and colleagues who have lived through what is an unimaginable event for most people. Somehow, instead of hiding away, they are out front, dealing with the inevitable mash of cameras, microphones, journalists, bloggers, well-wishers, and hangers-on. To add to their suffering, they must deal with entitled opinionistas, naysayers, trolls, and the genuinely ugly folks who feel compelled to issue threats via social media.

Yet they persevere, these physically and psychically injured people. Despite pain, loss, and soul-crushing grief that would lay most people low, they’ve appeared in public shortly after their experiences. They ask for understanding. More often than not, they advocate for change. A few might insist on assigning blame; far more insist on accountability.

Recently, a group of teenagers at Florida’s Parkland High School escaped death by yet another mass shooting. Now, some of them are calling on legislators to control, regulate, or ban the kinds of weapons favored by shooters at malls, rock concerts, and schools. These weapons–semi-automatic, self-loading, or whatever we choose to call them–are designed to inflict maximum damage in a minimum amount of time and they’ve been easy to procure by people who are crazy or just angry.

While the teens are widely supported, they’ve also encountered plenty of social media haters quick to accuse them of being either naïve children dazzled by the attention or opportunistic spot-light seekers backed by calculating adults. Some suggest that activism in the wake of tragedy is inappropriate. There are even those who suspect—or pretend to suspect—these poised and focused teens are paid actors.

How familiar that all sounds.

My husband died on 9/11. I spent a little time thrashing around my empty house. Social media didn’t really exist in 2001, just a few AOL chat rooms where eager participants engaged in conspiracy theories. When the journalists first called, I spoke about my husband. It helped, a little, but I remained at home and that was not a good place for me to be. My first steps at advocacy involved getting help for the families and also, to be honest, trying to articulate the painful peculiarity of our position: our grief was personal but also shared. We were in the public eye, like it or not. My voice, which had literally disappeared after my husband’s death, began to return. My will to live followed, although it returned far more slowly than I let on.

Finally, I screwed up the courage to express myself about the fallout from the attacks: a war with Iraq (a country that produced none of the hijackers), a deep division about how to treat Muslim-Americans, the ways in which 9/11, like so many tragedies before and since, became a shield for bad policy-making and fodder for the haters. Some of what I said put me at odds with other family members, or with talking heads, particularly on Fox News. The push-back hurt. I didn’t exactly shrug it off, but I didn’t stop, either.

The students who’ve chosen to be front and center impress me. I get why they’re speaking out. Because they’ve identified a single, absolutely relevant issue around which they can unite. Because they’re articulate, in the way smart, engaged teens can be. Because, yes, they want to make sense of an event that upended their young lives and ended the lives of their friends. Because the grief is too strong to lay quietly within them. They’re grieving, yes, but in their grief, they’ve become hyper-attuned to anyone who is trying to tell them how they should behave or how they should feel.

I can see it in their eyes and hear it in their voices. They push back against the critical, envious outsiders and against those who try to politicize their actions, as if safety and common sense were simply one side of an argument. No, they insist, you can’t have it both ways. You can’t call us children and still fail to protect us. You can’t call us opportunists and then fail to listen to what we say. You can’t take our grief, our pain, and our resolve and use it to further your own agenda. We call that b.s.

I call it hope.

Aug 272015
 

I once thought I could outrun Death–or at least avoid it–by turning away from the places it lived. When drugs and depression, a war in Southeast Asia and a plague in New York City took my friends, I promised myself I’d move out, duck, hide, stay beneath the radar.

An exercise in futility if ever there was one.

Death has driven itself into a twin tower, marched into the Middle East and Africa, put guns into the hands of narcissistic madmen and young warriors and knocked down desperately needed heroes. It has located friends across the country—young, old, prepared and unprepared. Our interconnectivity has insured we will not live one day without experiencing death live and in person.

No one likes Death. I hate the thought of it. Not my own, which will leave me with something or nothing but in any event less pain. No, I hate that it robs the living, leaving us with hollowed-out hearts. This is the nature of finite life, we’re told.

I might accept natural mortality were we humans not so determined to help Death do its work. What religious perversion or overweening egotism grants permission to kill? Of all the creatures on earth, we are the only ones for whom ass-backwards calculation factors into our violence. We almost never kill to survive. No, we’re impelled by fear or offense, a need to be heard or prove a point. We kill to dominate or subjugate. We know we’ll get attention one way or another. We’ve no lack of outlets ready to help.

Guns make it easier to kill. So does a mindset that allows for action without consideration. Of course I want to keep weapons out of the hands of people whose past meltdowns and dangerous or reckless behavior are a matter of public record. I’d also welcome an honest reassessment about the notion of giving and taking offense. We might ponder when free speech became an excuse for spewing hateful venom or showing horrific images. Maybe we can take a moment to reevaluate a culture that promotes entitlement and outrage.

We can’t stop Death but we don’t have to go into business with it.

man loading bulletscourtesy Graham Sale, 2015
Jun 122015
 

Dominic-Strauss-KahnDominique Strauss-Kahn, former head of the International Monetary Fund has been acquitted of aggravated pimping charges stemming from accusations he organized lavish orgies with a network of friends and prostitutes. In 2011, he was acquitted of sexual assault of a housekeeper in a posh New York hotel. The acquittals, widely expected, have produced most shrugs among members of French society. While the charges have quashed his chances at a political career, Strauss-Kahn appears poised to successfully resume his professional career as an investment banker. #rehabilitationalafrançais

Pastor-Stephen AndersonAn Arizona preacher is apparently praying for God to rip out the heart of transgendered celebrity Caitlyn Jenner. He also claims to hold in his heart a “perfect hatred” for Ms. Jenner, prompting some to wonder what an “imperfect” hatred might look like. #whatwouldJesusdo

 

myanmar_flag_pictureThe government of Myanmar, reacting to an international outcry, has agreed to put a stop to the mass exodus by the Rohingya, a group of ethnic Muslims within its borders. The dangerous and illegal smuggling trade has proved devastating to the region, resulting in overwhelmed neighboring countries and death and deprivation for the emigrants. At the same time, officials refuse to address issues of widespread persecution or even recognize the Rohingya as being legitimate citizens. #thisisnotdemocracy

texas

 

Texas #becauseTexas

 

 

 

Jerry-SeinfeldJerry Seinfeld, among several comedians, expressed his concern expressed his concern that political correctness and hyper-sensitivity may be ruining comedy by inhibiting comedians. His comments inspired a hyper-sensitive politically correct social media backlash. #weallneedachillpill

 

 

statement-of-candidacy
There are, at latest (but not last) count, some 366 people who have filed the paperwork necessary to run for President of the United States. Eight percent of them are expecting/hoping to appear in the Republican primary debates in August. #thisisdemocracy