Tiananmen plus 20

A couple of weeks ago, the New York Times had a great blog post about the iconic image of Tiananmen Square-- the unarmed man facing down a line of tanks.  It described four photographers' versions of the same photo, the differences between their angles, and what they went through to get their film out of China, in those days before digital photography.  I remember vividly watching the television coverage of the uprising -- my sister was graduating that week, and so I remember getting dressed in a hotel room in Pittsburgh, watching the coverage unfold.

I'm not a basher of the "MSM," but it really does seem like the coverage of the protests in Iran is fundamentally not at the same level.  I think that I have to agree with Megan McArdle (gasp) -- this is what happens when you close all your foreign bureaus.  There's still information coming out via tweets and other sources, but I'm having trouble piecing it together into a story, since I have a full-time job and can't spend my day online.  But it does seem like "At least one killed in election protests in Iran"  (which is the Washington Post's current headline) doesn't quite capture the moment of what's going on.

in memoriam

Johns

small world

Did you know that there are horrific wildfires burning in Australia, with several small towns totally consumed?  Did you know that temperatures in Melbourne have been in the 115-range (Fahrenheit) over the past week?

I wouldn't have known either, except that I have an online friend who lives in Melbourne, and her parents live in Marysville, which is one of the towns that has been devastated.  She's been sitting up all night, posting reports. The last she heard, their house was one of the few still standing and the Red Cross reported that they had checked in.

I went looking on the Post and Times websites for more news, and all they're carrying is the AP and Reuters stories, although the Times does have a slideshow of the fires.
On the Australian newspaper's sites, it's the top story of course.

Just makes me think about how many things like this happen every day around the world, and that they don't qualify as news unless they're nearby, or unless we happen to know someone in the middle.  My thoughts and prayers go out tonight to all those who are in danger, or waiting for word from their loved ones, wherever they may be.

Haunted by Mumbai

I'm somewhat surprised that there hasn't been more discussion of Mumbai on the blogs that I read.  I guess it's because once you've said "how awful," there's really not that much more to add to the conversation. But I found myself repeatedly borrowing my dad's computer this weekend in order to check whether there was any more news.

I'm not sure why this story got to me so much more than any other horrible attack.  I think the uncertainty of the situation, and the fact that it's still not clear who did it, or why, kept me looking for more information.  And while I've never been to Mumbai, I have been to India, and stayed in another hotel in the Taj chain.

In spite of the early reports that the attackers were targeting Americans and Brits, the overwhelming majority of the victims were Indian.  In some cases, the attackers just fired into crowds, but in other cases (e.g. the chefs at the Taj), they clearly could have le Indians go, and chose not to.  As far as I'm aware, they never made any specific demands.

We were in NYC for the holiday, and took the subway all over the place. And no, I didn't worry about the possible threat against the system, although there were cops everywhere, especially on Thursday morning.  I take the DC metro every day, and I just can't manage to stay worried all the time.

TBR: A Most Wanted Man

Today's book is A Most Wanted Man, by John LeCarre.  I'm not going to give away the ending, but I don't think it's possible to talk about the book without spoiling it a little bit, so if  that's going to make you crazy, stop reading now.

Like all of LeCarre's books, this is a spy novel, although only one of the main characters is a spy master in the sense of LeCarre's cold war novels.  A young man half-Russian, half-Chechen with a history of imprisonment in Russian and Turkish jails finds his way to Hamburg.  Is he a terrorist?  A humanitarian refuge?  Just an ordinary illegal immigrant?  The novel never shows his point of view, so the reader is as much at a loss as the people who move in his orbit -- an idealistic young lawyer, a pragmatic spymaster, a middle aged banker who is not as jaded as he thinks he is.

The characters were interesting, but never quite fully developed.  (The banker is the most fleshed out, and I think is LeCarre's stand-in in the novel.)  What interests LeCarre is the situation, and the philosophical questions: is the leader of a charitable organization where 5 percent of the money is diverted to terrorists entirely bad, or 95 percent good?  Does it matter?  (See today's headlines.)  Does old-fashioned spycraft still have a role to play in world of electronic eavesdropping and bombs on public transportation?

The ending approaches what a teacher of mine used to call a "beer truck ending" -- an ending that comes out of nowhere, without connection to what has come before.  But it's not a matter of laziness on LeCarre's part.  He's making a very specific point about the fact that we live in a world where people can get run over by beer trucks in spite of their best laid plans.

WBR: The 9/11 Report: A Graphic Adaptation

I seem to have fallen out of the routine of doing regular weekly book reviews.  I'm going to try to get back into the habit, since they often provoked good discussions, and the deadlines helped me control my bad habit of reading five books at once and not finishing any of them.

This week's book is The 9/11 Report: A Graphic Adaptation, by Sid Jacobson and Ernie Colon.  The discussions of this book that I've seen mostly treat it as a dancing bear -- e.g. they don't criticize its skill in dancing, because the impressive thing is that it dances at all.  But I don't think the idea of rendering a serious topic as a comic* is such a radical idea.  So, I'm taking it seriously, and asking whether this is an effective use of the medium.

The first chapter of the book absolutely blew me away.  Telling the stories of the four flights that took off on the morning of September 11, 2001 as four parallel stories playing out horizontally across the page is a very effective move.  I've always been a little blurry on the timeline of that morning -- I spent it alternating between television and trying to contact people in NYC, and never sorted out what I was seeing live and what was replayed -- and this made sense of it.

911_1

Unfortunately, the rest of the book didn't live up to this start.  The main problem is that, while the format is that of a comic, the rest of the book doesn't conform to Scott McCloud's definition in Understanding Comics -- the sequencing of the images does not contribute to the narrative; they simply illustrate the text.

Mccloud

Even as illustrations, the images don't always contribute to our understanding. I totally don't understand why the statement that Bin Ladin drew terrorists from at least 21 countries is followed by half a page of flags, rather than by a map of the world.  And in at least one case, the images confuse the story -- a discussion of what went wrong in the evacuation of the World Trade Center after the 1993 bombing is accompanied by a picture of the towers on fire, an image from from 2001.

The book includes a forward from the chair and cochair of the 9/11 Commission, praising it strongly.  It is, by all accounts, a fair and honest abridgment of the report.  And I do think that making the key findings of the report accessible to people who would never pick up a 1000 page book is a valuable and important task.  But as a work of graphic narrative, it doesn't quite work.

* I'm calling it a comic because it's clearly not a graphic novel and we don't have a better word in English to use.  And because McCloud calls the whole category comics.

matters outside my area of expertise

Two weeks ago, I had the chance to testify before a Congressional subcommittee.  It was quite exciting, even though the room was more than half empty, and only four of the members of Congress were present.  The whole thing was a little surreal, though, because the witness invited by the Republicans used all his time to argue that the biggest challenge facing American families is high energy costs, and so that we should expand domestic production of oil (in ANWR and offshore).  The ranking member therefore asked each of testifying whether we'd support expanding domestic production.

While those of you read this regularly can probably guess what I personally think of that, my organization certainly doesn't have a position on the matter.  So when it was my turn, I responded that I would decline to offer a position on an subject outside my area of expertise.  Representative Davis then commented that I had disqualified myself from ever running for Congress, as having opinions on topics that you know nothing about is an absolute prerequisite for members of Congress.

This week has certainly proved the truth of that observation.  I haven't been blogging about the bailout because I don't know what the right thing to do is, and I wish I had any confidence that anyone else really does.  I'm afraid that they're all making it up as they go along, and we're going to be left holding the bag at the end.

While I recognize the symbolic appeal of limiting executive pay, I think I'd actually rather see the banks commit to opening no fee bank accounts -- tied to debt cards, but programmed not to allow overdrafts -- for everyone in the country.

This made me laugh.  (No video, safe for work).





Is Christopher Cox the new Michael Brown?

Until today, I had never head of Christopher Cox.  He's the chairman of the Securities and Exchange Commission, and he seems to be becoming the poster boy for the total failure of the regulatory agencies to do anything to try to prevent the Wall Street meltdown.

Well, that's not quite fair.  As I learned this afternoon by listening to This American Life, he acted to ban naked short sales (e.g. the practice of selling stocks that you don't actually own and haven't borrowed from anyone) but only for Fannie Mae, Freddie Mac, Lehman, and 18 other financial institutions, and only for a limited period this summer. 

I'm not defending the idea that you should be able to sell things that you don't own (and it's apparently illegal in any case), but what this says to me is that he wanted to shoot the messenger.  Short sellers aren't what's bringing these institutions down.  Bad lending standards, massive leverage, and generally really bad judgment are.

When specifically asked by Senator Shelby (who is not exactly known for being an advocate for government intervention) if he wanted more regulatory authority, he said no.

John McCain says that Cox should be fired.  Bush says that he's doing a great job, Brownie.  (And as in FEMA, I think the problems go much further than the top leadership...)


Infinite Jest

The title of the book Infinite Jest comes from a film within the story.  it's been a long time since I read the book, but as I remember it, people who come to see the movie see a projection of themselves sitting in the audience.  Nothing else happens, and eventually, some of the people give up and leave, but the film keeps going as long as a single person stubbornly sits in the auditorium, keeping the movie going.

My personal theory about the book is that Wallace intended it like the movie -- he didn't really expect that anyone would slog through the 1000 plus pages (including footnotes).  While he wrote darkly funny prose, and a lot of things happened in the book, it was just one thing after another, without a clear plot trajectory.  To be honest, you could  stop anywhere along the way and not miss too much.  Just as the audience had the power to end the movie by simply leaving, I think he was suggesting that his readers had the power to end the book just by saying "enough" and closing it.

This week, David Foster Wallace seems to have decided that he didn't need to find out what comes next in his story.  I didn't know the man personally, and I didn't even love his book.  But I feel diminished by his passing.

Ike

The pictures are amazing and terrifying. I can't believe that more people didn't evacuate Galveston -- I pray that those who are staying put have the opportunity to laugh at me and say "that wasn't so bad."

And anyone, right or left, Democrat or Republican, who thinks that God sends hurricanes for political purposes is a jackass.


Gustav

I keep checking the NOAA tracking page for Gustav.  I'm not sure what I'm expecting to change -- it might weaken a bit, but it's unlikely to veer off into the Atlantic.

They're doing a lot of things right this time around that were screwed up for Katrina-- ordering an evacuation early, providing buses for those who don't have cars.  We're pretty good at defending against the last threat -- that's why security is so good on airplanes, and so bad on subways or container ships.  Which makes me wonder what we're still missing.

Perhaps more fundamentally, if Gustav hits near New Orleans and the levees don't hold, it's hard to imagine people coming back to rebuild again.

interesting odds and ends

  • I thought this article on the growth in Fairfax school enrollment was interesting  It says enrollment is up by 2,500, in part due to a shift of 1,000 students from Prince William county.  Some hypothesize it's due to Prince William's crackdown on undocumented immigrants; others suggest it's due to the high price of gas.  It's likely that both contribute, and may even affect the same families. I wonder what the typical shifts between the two counties are.
  • Via Yglesias, I ran into this study arguing that redshirting of kindergarteners leads to reduced high school completion, since it means that kids have completed fewer years of school when they reach the age where they're no longer required to attend school.  This doesn't make sense to me, as it's overwhelmingly upper-middle-class families who hold their kids back a year, but lower-income kids who drop out as soon as they're legally able to.  Anyone want to take a crack at it?
  • I love Alan Blinder's idea of stimulating the economy by buying back polluting clunkers for more than book value.  One of my pet bugaboos is that when people talk about "green jobs" they always focus on the sexy futuristic stuff like solar and wind power, when you could get a lot more bang for the buck subsidizing new boilers and more insulation in low-cost rental housing.  (As long as renters pay for the utility bills, it almost never makes economic sense for landlords to make those investments on their own.)

Iowa

Someone posted on my neighborhood listserve this morning, wondering "where are the cries for help for the poor people of Iowa? Are they less deserving than the people of Louisiana?"  The question wasn't from someone I know, and maybe I'm misjudging him, but my interpretation of the subtext was "all you people who were so dramatic about Katrina weren't really worried about the people, but looking for a reason to beat up on Bush."

My impression is that the floods in the midwest have caused massive displacement, and overwhelming property loss, but that there's been relatively little loss of life.  Kari Lyderson writes at Rooflines about the contrast between the disasters and suggests a few causes:

  1. The local governments are far more functional.
  2. Most people displaced in Iowa are staying with friends and family; in New Orleans, many of the affected had no social networks outside of the city.
  3. Those from outside helping (FEMA, National Guard, volunteers)  have positive impressions of the people they are helping: "To put it bluntly, law enforcement and volunteers in Iowa were not afraid of or harboring deep-seated hatred toward the people they were trying to help."  I mentioned this idea to someone at work, and she commented that if Iowans break store windows, they'll be seen as "getting needed supplies" not "looting."

That said, I do think it took a ridiculously long time for the East Coast media to figure out that this was a major story.  One of my colleagues is from Iowa, and she was stressing last week when the flooding started.  I hadn't heard the news, so went online to look, and discovered that there wasn't a single mention of the flooding on the Washington Post's website at the time. 

Via Crunchy Granola, I found Boomerific's postings about the flooding.

Some ways to help:




Incomparable

All week, I've been blinking away tears as I read or hear the news.  This morning I turned the car radio from NPR to the classic rock station because I just couldn't cope with listening to the story about the middle school that collapsed in the earthquake in China.  The disaster in Burma is even bigger, but because the government isn't letting aid workers in (let alone reporters), there aren't the first-person stories that tug at the heart.

This NY Times story suggests that the grief of the Chinese parents is made worse by the fact that the one-child policy means that most of the dead children were their parents' only child.  I'm not sure I believe that -- I don't believe that the grief of a parent of two children is cut in half when only one child dies, or the grief of a parent of five is only one-fifth.

I -- and most (if not all) of my readers -- am lucky to live in a time and place where the death of a child is a rare tragedy.  At other times and places, it has been less rare, but no less tragic.  Reading 18th and 19th century diaries, it  is quite clear that the frequency with which children died of disease did not diminish the pain felt by those left behind.

But even here and now, we are never entirely safe.  Last week I learned that the son of one of the women on the birthmonth email list I joined when pregnant with D was killed, along with his grandfather, in a car accident.

Stupidest policies ever

In his quasi-blog* at The Atlantic, James Fallows asked whether anyone can name a more stupid policy that passed with bipartisan support during the last 50 years than the McCain-Clinton proposal for a gas-tax holiday.  His pick from the many submissions he received is the mandates and subsidies for corn-based ethanol.  The full list of popular submissions is worth reading -- Fallows notes that while some of them had worse effects than ethanol subsidies, in order to make the short list, a policy had to be obviously bad even without the benefits of hindsight.

The policy that I was surprised not to see on the list is the mortgage interest deduction, the one policy that everyone from the Center on Budget and Policy Priorities to the American Enterprise Institute agrees is terrible policy.  It's expensive, regressive, and most people agree that it makes homeownership MORE expensive for the people likely to be on the margin between owning and renting.  I don't know if it misses the 50 year cut off, or if Fallows' readers are likely to be in the group that benefits from it, and so are blind to its faults.

What else would you put on the list?

*It's a quasi-blog because it doesn't allow comments.  This is clearly Fallows' choice rather than The Atlantic's because Yglesias has a real blog on their site.

LED lights

In honor of Earth Day, I wanted to post about the LED lights that we've put into our new kitchen. They're LR6 lights, from Cree Lighting.  If you walked in, you wouldn't notice them -- and that's the point.  They look like standard lights, are even more energy efficient than CFLs, don't contain mercury, and can be dimmed (although they require a digital dimmer). 

So, what's the downside?  Well, for now they're somewhat overpriced.  If they last as long as the company claims (on the order of 20 years), they'll more than pay for themselves, but that assumes that we don't discount the future stream of savings.  And they're fairly new products, so no one really knows that they'll actually last that long.  But we decided they were worth a try.  And they look good enough that we're probably going to use them in our living room as well.

I was more than a bit nervous about buying these without being able to see what they'd look like in practice.  (Amicus Green has them, but as part of a display with a bunch of other lights, so it's hard to see what the light looks like.)  So, if you're in the DC area and you're considering these lights, feel free to email me if you want to come see them.

my letter to Congress

Here's the letter that I just sent to my Senators and Representative:

Dear xxx:

While I am deeply concerned about the current housing and economic situation, I am writing to urge you not to support a massive give-away to the banks and homebuilders who got us into this mess.

In particular, it is outrageous to provide a tax credit to encourage people to buy foreclosed or new homes, thus making it even harder for people who have stayed current on their mortgages to sell their houses.  I also oppose the provisions that would rebate previously paid taxes to those who prospered during the housing boom.

I think the idea of allowing a deduction for housing costs for those who do not itemize their taxes is appealing, but it should be paid for by capping the mortgage interest deduction for houses worth more than $1 million.

As the new jobs numbers show, we are heading into a recession.  Congress should extend unemployment insurance benefits, put more money into WIC and LIHEAP, and temporarily increase the Medicaid match rate to ensure that poor families don't lose their health coverage.  That would help the people who are suffering the most, not the people who created the problems.

Thank you for your consideration.

***

There are some good things in the bill -- some money for community-based actions, some money for financial counseling.  But they're outweighed by the massive giveaway.  I'd rather no bill than this bill.

world news

A few months ago, I received an offer to get the Economist for airline miles.  Since I an unlikely to use them for anything else, I signed up.  The Economist offers two things that I find interesting:

  • A very distinct take on US politics, from a point of view that is quite different from either of the US political parties -- very pro-market, but without the social conservativism of the Republicans.
  • In depth coverage of world news.

That said, I have to admit that I often find myself skimming past many of the international stories -- oh, there are protests in Albania, who knew?-- but not really caring a whole lot about the details.

The world news story that I'm following most closely right now is the elections in Zimbabwe.  With no official results 4 days after the elections, it's hard to believe that Mugabe's people aren't cooking the books.  (The opposition is claiming that they've won, but the government says that just saying that is an attempted coup.) And today some journalists have been arrested.  I don't have any particular insight into how it's going to turn out, but I'm watching with my fingers crossed.

Why do I care about this story?  Like Becca at Not Quite Sure, I've been there.  For two days, which doesn't make me any sort of an expert.  But I know how desperate people were then for our American dollars, and I just can't wrap my head around what a million-fold inflation since then means.  It's a heartbreaker of a story, and a reminder that much (most?) hunger in the world is political, not (just) the result of natural disasters. (And yes, we all had serious misgivings about our tourist dollars going to support Mugabe's government, but we went anyway.  I don't know if we did net harm or good.)

But I think I'd care about Zimbabwe even if I hadn't been there.  I wrote a report about it in 6th grade, shortly after it achieved independence.  I can't remember many of the details, but I know that I wrote to the embassy asking for information and they sent me a thick envelope with newspapers and other material. At the time, I think I was most intrigued by all the cities whose names were changed.

One concern I have about The Economist as my source for international news is that I don't know enough to know where their biases and blind spots are.  For example, they had a story about Zimbabwe last month, in which they argued confidently that Simba Makoni is "no joke for the incumbent." But it looks like he's a distant third, getting less than 10 percent of the vote from the unofficial figures that have come out so far.   Morgan Tsvangirai is the candidate who appears to be leading.

six years

I wanted to schedule this audioconference for work as soon after Labor Day as possible, and after some back and forth, it became clear that September 11th was going to be the only day that fit everyone's schedule.  One of our guests was a state senator from NY, so I asked her scheduler was she sure that the 11th was ok, and she said yes.  So we held it today.  And I'm not going to any memorial services or doing anything out of the ordinary today.

But I was glad that it was gray and overcast today, and not another impossibly perfect blue sky.

If you feel a call to gather and talk about your memories and feelings, we've opened up Wednesday Whining a little early this week.


Last year's post

2005 remembrances

2004

(Yes, I did hit my 3rd blogaversary last month.)


Two years later

Two years ago today, like pretty much everyone else with access to a computer, I was blogging about Katrina.

Two years ago tomorrow, I was "sad and angry" about the f*cked up state of health care coverage in this country.  And the uninsurance figures have only gotten worse.  And, as I noted two years ago, having health insurance doesn't mean that you're not screwed anyway.  I got this video from the Edwards campaign in my inbox today -- if you listen carefully, you'll note that the woman asking the question says that she has health insurance, but still has had to borrow $50,000 to pay for her treatment.

Two years ago yesterday, I was blogging about the man who invented the word "genocide" and remembering the anniversary of the Beslan massacre.  At that time, I wrote "I suppose there's not a date on the calendar where there hasn't been pain and bloodshed, somewhere, somewhen."

This morning I was listening to NPR on the radio, and Cokie Roberts was talking about New Orleans.  She said that the areas that haven't been rebuilt are strangely beautiful, because the ground there is so fertile that marsh grasses have sprung up already where there used to be buildings.  It made me think of the Carl Sandburg poem, Grass.

 Grass

                                 

Pile the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo.
Shovel them under and let me work--
                            I am the grass; I cover all.

And pile them high at Gettysburg
And pile them high at Ypres and Verdun.
Shovel them under and let me work.
Two years, ten years, and the passengers ask the conductor:
                            What place is this?
                            Where are we now?

                            I am the grass.
                            Let me work

poison

All of my parenting email lists and many blogs are abuzz with news of the recall of a bunch of Thomas trains for lead in the paint.  I think it's drawing a lot of attention for several reasons:

  • These trains are awfully popular.  Pretty much every kid I know has some.
  • They're expensive, and they're made of wood, so they have an old-fashioned aura.  People aren't surprised that the cheap plastic crap from the dollar store is made in China or Mexico, but they don't expect the stuff that's $15 for a little train to come off the same assembly line.
  • It's coming right after there's been a lot of attention to the impossibility of protecting the food supply from contaminants.

Realistically, I don't think there's a need to panic, unless your kid has been walking around sucking on James all day.  While it's clearly a bad thing, all of us who grew up when leaded gasoline was in common use got exposed to much higher levels of lead.   

(Don't worry, I will check our train bins to see if we have any that are affected -- I think all of ours are older than 2005, though.)

But it does highlight how interconnected -- and how vulnerable -- we all are in this global economy.  There's really no way to avoid it.  The part of that NPR story on the food supply that struck me the most is that China produces 80 percent of the world's Vitamin C.  Unless you're going to go try to play Robinson Crusoe somewhere, you can't avoid it.


Molly Ivins

I just heard (via my left nutmeg) that Molly Ivins has died and I'm feeling surprisingly bereft.  In the 2 1/2 years that I've been blogging, it seems like I've written about the passing of too many important women -- Ann Richards, Betty Friedan, Rosa Parks.  (And I feel badly that I didn't write about Tillie Olsen.)  But this one seems to have shaken me more than the rest.  I think it's because they all seem like people out of history, who did things long ago.  Molly was writing up to the end.

She warned us all about Shrub, years ago, and we (the country) didn't listen to her.  And don't we all wish we had.  But she was never shrill, always funny.  I remember sitting outside a laundromat waiting for my clothes to dry and reading Molly Ivins can't say that, can she? and laughing out loud, attracting odd looks from the passers-by.

The Texas Observer has (at least for now) turned their site into a memorial for her.

Firedoglake has some nice excerpts up too.

Failure to launch

Via Shawn Fremsted at Inclusionist, I ran across this article by Theda Skocpol reviewing two books about the GI bill (free but annoying registration required).   Skocpol notes how unusual the GI bill was in providing assistance to young families:

"But unlike most other U.S. social programs, the G.I. Bill focused its largesse on young adults at just the moment when they were building lives for their families. Usually, we spend money on the elderly, who have earned the nation’s support after a lifetime of work."

The article made me think about Strapped, by Tamara Draut, which I reviewed earlier this year.  Draut talks about how the changes in the economy -- the increased cost of education, housing, and child care -- particularly pinch young adults right when they're trying to start families.

The key point, I think, is that it was the 50s and 60s that were the anomaly, not today.  One of the reasons that, in most of history, men have married younger women is that men were strongly discouraged from marrying until they were able to support a family, and there was no expectation that they'd be able to do at a young age.  Older teens and young adults were expected to work, but they typically contributed their labor or earnings to their families of origin.  And when times were bad, as in the Great Depression, people married later.

So we've got this perverse combination of an economy that all but requires higher education for success (even though a college degree doesn't guarantee a good job, as Lauren will attest), an educational system that is dependent on student loans, and an expectation that young adults should be able to make it on their own.  There's no historical precedent.

TBR: Tell Them I Didn't Cry

When you read the headlines each day from Iraq, of bombings, elections, and daily life, do you think about what the reporters went through in order to file their stories?  In today's book, Tell Them I Didn't Cry: A Young Journalist's Story of Joy, Loss and Survival in Iraq, Jackie Spinner of the Washington Post attempts to describe what it is like to be a reporter in Iraq.

This is war reporting without any bravado.  Where Michael Weisskopf writes in his Time cover story that Iraq was "a dream assignment, a chance to escape Washington and work in exotic environs on a big story," Spinner cheerfully admits that she was terrified almost every minute, even as she argued with her editors to send her to Iraq and let her escape "career death" in the financial section of the Post.  Spinner writes about the constant fear of kidnapping or assault, the frustrations of reporting through a security cordon, the vitriolic emails she got from readers, and her attempts to establish something resembling a normal life under totally abnormal conditions (she cooked dinner for the Post's Iraq bureau every Friday night, rotating through a variety of world cuisines).

I heard Spinner talk at an event earlier this year, and she spoke about how common it is for war reporters to get post-traumatic stress disorder.  Reading the book, I got the impression that writing it was therapeutic for her, giving her the chance to tell all the stories she couldn't tell her family while she was overseas, because they would have been too freaked out.  Unfortunately, this doesn't always make for good writing -- Spinner buries the reader in a sea of details, without providing much in the way of perspective or context.

Spinner writes with passion about the role of the Iraqi reporters, translators, drivers and other support staff who make the American reporters' work possible.  She notes that they were in far more danger than the Americans, risking their life every day they came to work.  She points out that the Iraqi journalists valued their work enough to ask for, and receive, bylines in the Post, even though they made themselves targets in the process.  But in spite of Spinner's obvious affection for her Iraqi colleagues, she doesn't make them stand out as individuals, except for one young woman who Spinner is particularly close with.

Until I sat down to write this review, I hadn't noticed that the subtitle emphasizes that Spinner is a "young" journalist, but not that she is a woman.  In spite of that absence, it's clearly a big issue in the book. Being a woman in Iraq obviously affected some of the stories that Spinner could report -- she was less able to interview Iraqi men than her male colleagues, but more able to interact with women.  But beyond that, it's hard to imagine a male journalist writing this book, with its free admission of fear and focus on interpersonal relationships.  Even the title -- which comes from an episode when Spinner is nearly abducted -- is something only a woman, who is stereotypically expected to cry, would feel a need to say.

5 years

It was grey and drizzling in DC today.  I told one of my colleagues that I was glad it was overcast and, without hesitation, she said "not another perfect blue sky."   Moxie says the sky was bright blue in New York, just like five years ago.

Some links:

I hope no one is offended by the inclusion of the Onion piece.  After September 11, for a long time I had this poem taped to my office door.

A Man Doesn't Have Time In His Life

A man doesn't have time in his life
to have time for everything.
He doesn't have seasons enough to have
a season for every purpose. Ecclesiastes
Was wrong about that.

A man needs to love and to hate at the same moment,
to laugh and cry with the same eyes,
with the same hands to throw stones and to gather them,
to make love in war and war in love.
And to hate and forgive and remember and forget,
to arrange and confuse, to eat and to digest
what history
takes years and years to do.

A man doesn't have time.
When he loses he seeks, when he finds
he forgets, when he forgets he loves, when he loves
he begins to forget.

And his soul is seasoned, his soul
is very professional.
Only his body remains forever
an amateur. It tries and it misses,
gets muddled, doesn't learn a thing,
drunk and blind in its pleasures
and its pains.

He will die as figs die in autumn,
Shriveled and full of himself and sweet,
the leaves growing dry on the ground,
the bare branches pointing to the place
where there's time for everything.

 	-- Yehuda Amichai

mideast musings

I keep starting posts about the fighting in Israel and Lebanon, then discarding them, and starting again.  It seems wrong not to acknowledge the fighting and the heartbreak it is bringing to people on both sides, but I'm not sure what I have to add to the conversation. 

Lisa at Global Voices Online reports that this is probably the most blogged war in history.  I've been reading Allison Kaplan Sommer, who discusses such homely details as her decision whether to send her kids to camp this week. 

I think Allison is right that the US would be totally unrestrained in a comparable situation.  I don't think even W. is nuts enough to go nuclear, but pretty much everything else would be considered fair game if US cities were the target of missile attacks.  But that doesn't mean it would be right.  There's basically two arguments for hitting back with everything you've got.  First is the purely political consideration that anything less would be considered week and make the government vulnerable to criticism.  The second, and more significant, argument is the idea of deterrence -- that if everyone knows that you're going to respond immediately and hard, they'll be less likely to attack in the first place.  But the problem here is that Hezbollah wants Israel to respond out of control, because that response stirs up the mass hatred of Israel in the Arab world.

I do think the US would have been slower to react to the kidnapping of American soldiers.  For better or worse, because we don't have a draft, I think there's more of a sense of "they're professionals and knew the risks that they were taking."  Because an Israeli soldier could be, quite literally, anybody's child, I think there's more of a commitment to doing whatever it takes -- from commando raids to exchanging prisoners -- to get them free.

The reach of love

In her comment on Monday's Eat Local post, Mary from Stone Court pointed me to this Salon interview with Peter Singer, in which he is critical of the local foods movement.

In your book you say that socially responsible folks in San Francisco would do better to buy their rice from Bangladesh than from local growers in California. Could you explain?

This is in reference to the local food movement, and the idea that you can save fossil fuels by not transporting food long distances. This is a widespread belief, and of course it has some basis. Other things being equal, if your food is grown locally, you will save on fossil fuels. But other things are often not equal. California rice is produced using artificial irrigation and fertilizer that involves energy use. Bangladeshi rice takes advantage of the natural flooding of the rivers and doesn't require artificial irrigation. It also doesn't involve as much synthetic fertilizer because the rivers wash down nutrients, so it's significantly less energy intensive to produce. Now, it's then shipped across the world, but shipping is an extremely fuel-efficient form of transport. You can ship something 10,000 miles for the same amount of fuel necessary to truck it 1,000 miles. So if you're getting your rice shipped to San Francisco from Bangladesh, fewer fossil fuels were used to get it there than if you bought it in California.

In the same vein, you argue that in the interests of alleviating world poverty, it's better to buy food from Kenya than to buy locally, even if the Kenyan farmer only gets 2 cents on the dollar.

My argument is that we should not necessarily buy locally, because if we do, we cut out the opportunity for the poorest countries to trade with us, and agriculture is one of the things they can do, and which can help them develop. The objection to this, which I quote from Brian Halweil, one of the leading advocates of the local movement, is that very little of the money actually gets back to the Kenyan farmer. But my calculations show that even if as little as 2 cents on the dollar gets back to the Kenyan farmer, that could make a bigger difference to the Kenyan grower than an entire dollar would to a local grower. It's the law of diminishing marginal utility. If you are only earning $300, 2 cents can make a bigger difference to you than a dollar can make to the person earning $30,000.

It's an interesting argument, and one that makes a fair amount of sense.  (I give the majority of my charitable donations to international aid organizations on the similar grounds that the same amount of money goes a lot further in third world countries.)

What Singer misses is the what Wendell Berry describes as "the power of affection."  Singer is famous for taking utilitarianism to its logical ends -- holding that if you have the power to save two lives on the other side of the earth, but it would kill your child, you have the moral obligation to do so, because two lives are more important than one.  Only slightly less dramatically, he argues that it is immoral for any of us to enjoy the typical American (or European) standard of living while children are dying for want of medicines that cost pennies.  (The Salon article notes that Singer gives 20% of his salary to charity, which is far more than most of us, but still way short of the moral standard that he upholds.)

Berry's response is that it's fundamentally inhuman to expect us to value strangers' lives as much as our children's, to expect us to care as much about pollution someplace that's a dot in the map as much as pollution in the pond down the road.  In his list of 27 propositions about sustainability, he argues against cities and globalization because:

"XX. The right scale in work gives power to affection. When one works beyond the
reach of one's love for the place one is working in, and for the things and
creatures one is working with and among, then destruction inevitably results.
An adequate local culture, among other things, keeps work within the reach of
love."

I'm not willing to go as far as Berry.  But I do think that the challenge for our time is that if we're going to live in a world of globalization, we need to extend the reach of our love.

So where does this leave us on food?  Singer actually has a lot in common with the local foods movement.  He offers a different general guideline:

"Avoid factory farm products. The worst of all the things we talk about in the book is intensive animal agriculture. If you can be vegetarian or vegan that's ideal. If you can buy organic and vegan that's better still, and organic and fair trade and vegan, better still, but if that gets too difficult or too complicated, just ask yourself, Does this product come from intensive animal agriculture? If it does, avoid it, and then you will have achieved 80 percent of the good that you would have achieved if you followed every suggestion in the book. "

Plus, this way, you get to keep drinking coffee.

Darfur rally

If you're planning on being at the Darfur rally on Sunday and are interested in trying to get together, drop me a line with a valid email address or cell phone number.

If you can't make it on Sunday, but want to help, you can sign onto the Million Voices for Darfur campaign.

Passover Links

I'm not the only one for whom "For we were strangers in the land of Egypt" is resonating particularly loudly this year.

Jews in America are not as solidly left as they once were, but most are pro-immigration, both because many of us are not that many generations removed from the immigrant experience (both my grandmothers came to this country as children), and because we know that thousands -- maybe tens of thousands, maybe more -- of the six million might have survived if America and other countries had been willing to let them in.

Or as Marge Piercy writes in a poem that was read at many seders tonight:

"We Jews are all born of wanderers, with shoes
under our pillows and a memory of blood that is ours
raining down. We honor only those Jews who changed
tonight, those who chose the desert over bondage,

who walked into the strange and became strangers
and gave birth to children who could look down
on them standing on their shoulders for having
been slaves. We honor those who let go of everything
but freedom, who ran, who revolted, who fought,
who became other by saving themselves."

Immigration

My favorite quote in this morning's Washington Post article on the politics of immigration is the one from Cecilia Muñoz, vice president for policy at the National Council of La Raza:  "I'm not sure anybody totally understands this phenomenon. . . . But we are happily stunned."  NCLR is the biggest Latino advocacy organization in the country, and I'm sure they'd love to claim credit for the mass demonstrations against the House's harsh anti-immigrant bill, but they can't.  It seems to be a combination of Spanish-language radio, churches (and the Church), charitable organizations, and genuine grassroots activism.

Meanwhile one of my friends is wondering whether her Irish-Jewish son is going to fail 8th grade because he's been joining in the mass student protests.  (Arlington schools have been taking a hard line, saying that absences will be treated as unexcused even with parental permission.)   She's simultaneously worried about him and proud as can be that he's standing up for what he believes in.  And, by all accounts, these protests were totally student-organized, by IM, mySpace, and cell phones, with no adult involvement.

I'll be looking closely at the deal that Senate leaders cut today to see what I think of it.  I think there are a lot of valid competing desires -- wanting to be a land of opportunity, but not wanting to depress low-skilled workers wages', wanting to minimize disruption in people's lives, but not wanting to penalize those who played by the rules.

And I'm thinking about trying to juggle my schedule for Monday afternoon so I can join the march on the mall.

For you were strangers in the land of Egypt.

Purim and justice

I've been reading JT Waldman's graphic novel of the Megillat Esther, the book of the bible that we read at Purim (discovered via the Velveteen Rabbi).  It's reminded me of what a very strange story it is.  There's an old joke that all Jewish holidays can be summed up as "They tried to kill us, we survived, let's eat."  That's certainly the heart of the Purim story, with the added vengeful twist that Haman falls into his own trap, and is killed on the gallows he had prepared for Mordechai and that the Jews fall upon their oppressors, killing tens of thousands.

The Purim story has been racing around my head the past few days, bouncing up against the news of Slobodan Milosevic's death, and the possibility of the judge calling off the Moussaoui trial.   While we like to think of "law' and "justice" as synonyms, they're really not.  And sometimes following the rule of law means that evil people will get off.   It stinks, but it's better than the alternatives.

God is never mentioned in the Megillat Esther. There's no promise here of infaliable judgment in a world to come.  All we've got is this world, full of drunken kings, conniving queens, and scheming counselors.

Betty Friedan

When I took the intro to women's studies class in college, Betty Friedan was hardly mentioned.  To the extent that she was discussed, she was mostly dismissed for focusing exclusively on the needs of straight, white, middle-class women.  To some degree, the problem was that she had succeeded so well -- to my generation of younhg women, the idea that anyone would take satisfaction in gleaming floors was pretty much incomprehensible, so her insights seemed obvious.

And yet, here I am, in 2006, writing on a semi-regular basis about who vacuums the floor and picks up the dirty socks.  In some ways the world has been radically transformed since in 1963; in other ways, not so much.

Last month, Sandy at the imponderabilia of actual life wondered whether yesterday's "housewives" are the same as today's "SAH-moms."  I do think, for better or worse, the feminist revolution made it harder for women to take pride in a well-kept house.  But, in a world where children's success can't be taken for granted, regardless of their parents' situation, investing time and effort in childrearing makes more sense.

The problem, however, is that childrearing is much less predictable than housecleaning.  Housecleaning is sometimes tiring, often boring, always repetitive.  But you can pretty much guarantee that if you put in the effort, you'll get the results.  There's something satisfying about knowing that. (I can't be the only one who scrubs the stove or the tub when angry or frustrated.)  Childrearing is ultimately not predictable in the same way.

A "bump"

The story of the miners killed in the West Virginia mine accident this week would have been sad in any case, but it's made macabre by the terrible miscommunication that led the families to believe for several hours that 12 of the 13 miners had been found alive, rather than just the lone surviver.  Every time I walked through the lobby of my office building today, the USA Today headline "Alive" jumped out at me.

As it happens, for several weeks I've been listening to the audiobook of Melissa Fay Greene's Last Man Out: The Story of the Springhill Mine Disaster while I exercise.  I picked it up a while back at a library sale, knowing nothing of the disaster, but willing to give anything Greene wrote a try having read Praying for Sheetrock.  She describes the terrible collapse of an entire mine that happened in Nova Scotia in 1958 and the experiences of two small groups of miners that miraculously survived the "bump."  They were trapped underground without light, food, or water for a week before the miners on the surface were able to dig down to them.

Listening to a book on tape slows it down for me, and makes the images linger.  I know that mines have changed a great deal over the last half century (although maybe not enough), but I can't help imagining the scene in Tallmansville as much like that described by Greene in Spring Hill.

My thoughts and prayers are with the families.

NYC Transit Strike

I'm sure everyone in New York is relieved that the transit strike has been settled.  The buses and trains should be running by tomorrow morning.

The blogs that I read have generally been supportive of the striking transit workers, strongly so in the case of landismom and Lindsay Beyerstein, moderately so for Laura at 11d.  By contrast, my family in NYC had very little sympathy for the strike, even though they're generally liberal and pro-union.  They argued (and I agree) that it was the working class  -- who don't have the option of telecommuting, who don't get paid if they can't make it to work, and for whom the cost of a taxi is a significant portion of a day's wages -- who bore the brunt of the shutdown. 

In weighing whether the TWU demands are reasonable, a key issue is whether you're comparing them to an abstract ideal of what workers should received or to the wages and benefits that other workers actually receive.  Because I don't think anyone is disputing that their retirement and health package is more generous than most workers receive today, especially when compared to other jobs that don't require college degrees.   And, just as low-income workers often get hostile when welfare recipients get benefits they don't, lots of people are angry at the transit workers for asking to be able to retire at 50.

Retirement benefits are a particularly tricky issue, because it's becoming increasingly clear that both the private and public sector vastly underestimated the real costs of the pension promises that they made during the last 30 or so years.  Negotiators saw pensions as a cheap concession to make, because they didn't have immediate cost impacts.  Now that the law requires companies -- and is about to require governments as well -- to calculate the real costs of their future obligations, they're in trouble.  A lot of companies are dealing with it by ducking out of their promises -- either converting to defined payment plans instead of defined benefit plans, or just dumping the whole mess in the government's lap

Governments -- and quasi-governmental entities like the MTA -- tend not to weasel out completely, but they're in a fix too.  While I'm not a fan of two-tier benefit systems that treat workers differently depending on when they're hired, I'm not sure what the alternative is if we don't want to change the rules on current workers in midstream, but also don't want to be tied forever to unwise decisions that we made 30 years ago.

Pigs in pokes

I keep thinking that I've achieved a level of cynicism such that I won't be shocked by anything our government can do, but then I discover that I'm wrong.   We're just supposed to trust the President when he says that the illegal wiretaps were so time sensitive that they couldn't be brought before the secret court that could have approved them.  I'm not all that surprised to learn that the President was sleeping through 10th grade American Government when they covered checks and balances, but I can't believe that no one in the Administration seems to have noticed (or had the guts to point this out to him). 

Meanwhile I've been spending much of the weekend hitting refresh on my computer, checking CQ.com and the Congressional websites, trying to figure out what exactly is in the budget reconciliation bill that Congress is about to pass.  It appears that some version of welfare reauthorization is in there, but the details are extremely murky.  And, as the Center on Budget and Policy Prioirities points out, even the members of Congress themselves are likely to get the actual bill text -- hundreds of pages of it -- only shortly before they're asked to vote on it.

So what do you think is in those pokes?

TBR: Love My Rifle More Than You

Today's book is Love My Rifle More Than You: Young and Female In The US Army, by Kayla Williams.  This insta-memoir is Williams' account of her year serving in Iraq as an Arabic-speaking military intelligence soldier. 

I first heard of the book through a fairly negative review from Debra Dickerson on Salon.  Their site pass system is broken tonight, so I can't look it up to quote it, but Dickerson basically says that Williams is whiny and compares the book unfavorably with Anthony Swofford's Jarhead.  Yes, Jarhead is a better written book, brutal, elegant and hallucinatory by turns.  Swofford has serious literary ambitions -- he attended the Iowa Writers' Workshop -- and has the advantage of writing 10 years after his military service.  Twenty years from now, I'll guess that people will still be reading Jarhead, while they'll have long forgotten Love My Rifle.

But that doesn't mean that Love My Rifle More Than You isn't worth reading.  Williams' prose isn't memorable, but it's servicable, and she shares experiences that are worth hearing about.  She writes about the constant sexual harrassment and a near-rape by one of her fellow soldiers, about the ambiguity of the Army's relationship with the Iraqi people, about her quest for vegetarian MREs, and about how some female soldiers use their gender to get out of unpleasant tasks.  She writes about her brief involvement with interrogation of prisoners.   There's material in the book to discomfit both supporters and opponents of using women in combat roles, and both should read the book.

Yes, the book is whiny at times.  Williams sounds surprised that her armpits and groin chafe in the desert heat, that her commanding officers sometimes give her stupid orders that risk her life.  She doesn't seem to have read Catch-22, let alone Jarhead.  (By contrast, Swofford never is surprised by any degree of official stupidity.)  But ultimately the book reads like Williams is sitting down and telling you what it was like.  And I was happy to spend a few hours in her company.

I keep getting more cynical

My husband once told me that he knew he needed to get out of his job when he could look at a Dilbert cartoon and wonder where the joke was.

Lily Tomlin once said "No matter how cynical you get, it is impossible to keep up."  When that doesn't sound even vaguely like a joke, you know we're all in trouble.

Today's evidence:

Tomlin's right.  I can't keep up.

Call your Representative!

I've signed up with several organizations, so I get multiple "action alerts" in my inbox every week, urging me to email or call elected officials about some issue or another.  After a while, in spite of my good intentions, I find myself tuning them out, tired of the constant alarmism and feeling like my input isn't going to matter anyway.  I suspect many of you feel the same way.

But I just sent off an email to my Representative, and I'm going to urge anyone reading this to do so as well.  Congress is in the middle of considering a massive budget reconciliation bill that has all sorts of nasty surprises tucked away in it.  Some of these are purely designed to save money by cutting programs that mostly serve the poor (Food Stamps, Child Support Enforcement, Medicaid), while others are included because the reconciliation act is a "must-pass" bill and can't be filibustered in the Senate, so it's a good way to force through things that couldn't pass as stand-alone proposals (like drilling in ANWR). 

The House was supposed to vote on it today, but the Republican leadership postponed the vote because they didn't think they had enough votes to win.  They're going to spend the weekend trying to cut deals and twist the arms of moderate Republicans to get them to go along.  (For once, the Dems are standing united.)  So it's critically important that Representatives, especially those moderate Republicans, hear from their constituents about this bill.

So here's a bunch of useful links:

Thanks.

Aid to Africa and revealed preference

I've been reading the article on Bill Gates and his efforts to fight disease in Africa from the October 24 New Yorker.  (Not available online, although they do offer a slideshow on the effects of malaria in Tanzania.)  Michael Specter writes about how shocked Gates was to learn that there were public health investments that weren't being made where the cost per life saved was in the hundreds of dollars.

Specter quotes Kent Campbell, a former chief of the malaria branch at the US Centers for Disease Control as saying:

"I would love to believe that in the United States this effort is being driven by a decent desire to help, but I don't think most Americans give a rat's ass about the death of millions of African kids each year.  I don't think they ever have."

The argument in favor of this is based on what economists call "revealed preference," the idea that you can tell what option people prefer by the choices that they actually make.  If we let millions of African kids die each year, we must prefer the world in which millions of African kids die to the one in which we pay higher taxes and provide more public health aid, or else we'd do something different.  QED.

But, there's some evidence that people behave in ways that aren't explained by revealed preference.  The best example I know of comes from studies of how much people choose to save in 401k and similar retirement plans.  One of the things that researchers have found is that people are much more likely to participate if the default option is that a small percentage of their salary, 3 or 5 percent, is invested than if the default is non-participation.  This isn't terribly surprising when you think about it; many people find the whole concept so hard to think about that they just go with the default.

As a country, we tend to go with the default too.  In fact, I'd be willing to argue that much of the structure of Congress (especially the budgeting process) is designed to make it hard to move away from the status quo.  And it's designed to make it a lot harder to accomplish things that a lot of people want, but aren't passionate about, than it is to do things that a smaller group desperately cares about.

Some useful links:

Lying in State

I got up early this morning and went to the Capitol to pay my respects to Mrs. Parks.  "Pay my respects" is the right term; I didn't know Rosa Parks personally, and she lived a long and full life, so I can't really say I was mourning her death.  I was acknowledging her as both a person and as a symbol of what one individual can do.

I don't have any photos -- only the press were allowed to take pictures.  Bitch has a link up to a slideshow of images.  It was a beautiful Washington morning, with the sun just coming up and lighting the monuments.  All the official flags are at half-mast.  From the trampled grass and miles of barriers, it's clear there were long lines last night (the Post says there were waits of up to 5 hours), but just before 7 am this morning there was hardly any wait.   The police officers guiding people through looked tired.

The people I saw at the viewing were racially mixed, teenagers on up.  (We thought about bringing the boys in this morning, but decided that they wouldn't understand and it wasn't worth the hassle in order to be able to tell them that they had done it.)  Everyone looked somber and mostly talked in hushed voices, if at all.  One woman called out "thank you, Rosa" as she walked by.  The coffin was on a box draped in black, and there were three huge wreaths, one each from the President, the House and the Senate.  A Capitol Police officer in dress uniform stood at attention at either end.

The list of those who have lain in state at the Capitol is a strange mix.  Being assassinated while President pretty much guarantees you the honor (Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley, Kennedy) but just dying in office doesn't (Roosevelt).  Some pretty mediocre presidents have been honored (Taft?!) as well as a truly obscure Senator (John Alexander Logan).  Two Capitol Police officers who were killed in the line of duty were honored, as were unknown soldiers of World Wars I and II, Korea, and "the Vietnam era."  Congress considered so honoring Martin Luther King, Jr., but did not.  The list is enriched by the addition of Rosa Parks.

Limbo

I'd guess that I may be one of the few members of the liberal blogosphere who spend the day hitting the refresh button on my computer trying to get the latest news on the Budget Reconciliation process rather than on Fitzmas.

I've spent a good chunk of the last three years of my life working on welfare reauthorization, and suddenly I have no idea what the heck is happening.  The Senate has not included it in its reconciliation package.  The House does seem to be including it, and has left the TANF block grant mostly alone, but is trying to take a great big chunk of money out of child support enforcement.  Whatever happens, it's likely to be the result of some deal cut at 2 in the morning, and no one in Congress is going to have a chance to read the bill before they have to vote on it.  And then the Republicans are going to turn around and try to pass more tax cuts.

Yup, we're making sausages now.

Disability awareness month

Did you know that October is "Disability Awareness Month"?

BitchPhD points to a post at Camera Obscura about how the Americans with Disabilities Act also protects people from discrimination based on their association with someone with disabilities.  She wonders (and suggests that I might be able to answer):

"So, for example, you can't be not hired because your employer is afraid you'll take too much time off to care for your disabled child. How this would play out if you already had a job and needed, say, flex time to care for the same child, I don't know, but it's an interesting question."

The answer, according to the EEOC, is that you need to be treated the same as other employees.  If they're allowed to take unpaid leave, or juggle their hours, your boss needs to let you do the same.  But if everyone else has to work 9-5.30, the ADA doesn't require them to cut you a break.  If you work for a big enough company and have been there for at least a year, and the person with a disability is an immediate family member, the Family and Medical Leave Act (FMLA) might help you take unpaid leave, but otherwise you're out of luck.

While I'm on the topic, a friend forwarded me this list of Myths and Facts about People with Disabilities, from the Easter Seals.  I was particularly struck by #8:

Myth 8: Curious children should never ask people about their disabilities.
Fact: Many children have a natural, uninhibited curiosity and may ask questions that some adults consider embarrassing. But scolding curious children may make them think having a disability is "wrong" or "bad." Most people with disabilities won't mind answering a child's question.

Rosa Parks and Anansi

This morning, before showering, I decided to peak at a couple of my favorite blogs, and immediately learned that Rosa Parks had died.  I love this quote from her biography (quoted in the Washington Post):

"People always say that I didn't give up my seat because I was tired, but that isn't true. I was not tired physically, or no more tired than I usually was at the end of a working day. I was not old, although some people have an image of me as being old then. I was forty-two. No, the only tired I was, was tired of giving in."

Until I heard about Parks, I had been planning on blogging about the book I just finished, Neil Gaiman's Anansi Boys.  I thought about skipping my weekly book review, but then saw a connection between the two.  Because Gaiman claims that Anansi stories -- stories about the trickster Spider (or about Coyote, or Br'er Rabbit, or whatever name you choose)  -- were what taught humans that there are ways to get what you wanted without resorting to violence and that brains can be as effective as sharp knives.  Those are certainly lessons of the Civil Rights Movement.  Anansi stories also teach that making your enemy look foolish is sometimes better than scaring him.  And the Civil Rights Movement suceeded in part because it made segregationists look foolish and backwards.

I don't want to give away the plot of Anansi Boys, but I will say that I enjoyed the book and stayed up later than I should have to finish it.  Most of the reviews seem to describe it as a sequel to American Gods, but I thought it had more in common with Gaiman's Neverwhere.  It's a fable, set in the present day, about someone who thinks he's quite ordinary (even super-ordinary) and turns out not to be.

One detail that I really liked is the way that Gaiman handles race in this book. Almost all of the main characters are of African or Afro-Carribean descent, but that's never explicitly stated; a few characters are identified as "white."  It made me realize how many books I've read where characters are assumed to be white unless stated otherwise.

On a related note, I took out from the library Anansi and the Moss Covered Rock by Eric Kimmel, which is on the list of 100 Picture Books Everyone Should Know that Jody at Raising WEG found.  I think I liked Anansi Goes Fishing, by the same author, a bit better, but they're both good.

On Risk

Last Friday, the Washington Post website carried a pair of stories about senior citizens afflicted by the hurricanes.  One discussed the sequence of events at a nursing home in New Orleans that failed to evacuate in the face of the hurricane warnings.  Twenty-two people died.  The other reported on the bus that exploded, carrying senior citizens from  a Houston nursing home, evacuating in the threat of Rita.  Twenty-four people died.  Damned if you do, damned if you don't.

I'm not arguing that the governmental preparations for Katrina, or the immediate response, were appropriate.  There were major screw-ups at many levels, no doubt.  But I have some sympathy for the planners, because figuring out how to prepare for this sort of high consequence, low probability event has got to be one of the hardest tasks there is in public policy.  If you mobilize fully every time there's a risk, you're going to sound a lot like Chicken Little.

In grad school, we did an extended policy exercise around the 1976 swine flu scare.  It's a useful cautionary tale.  As with today's worries about a bird flu pandemic, this was a case where experts were convinced that there was a high likelihood of an outbreak of a flu variety that no one living had been exposed to, with fears that it could resemble the deadly 1918 epidemic.  HEW undertook a massive vaccination campaign in the fall of 1976, with over 40 million people vaccinated.  However, the vaccination campaign was called off in mid-December, as reports started coming in of cases of Guillain-Barre Syndrome among people receiving the vaccine.  The anticipated epidemic never occurred, and the federal government was widely criticized for exposing people to a dangerous vaccine. 

Last week, Mieke emailed me to draw my attention to her post about lead found in soft vinyl lunch boxes.  Her post is based on a report from the Center for Environmental Health which is suing the makers and retailers of kids' lunchboxes in which they found excessive levels of lead in an assortment of kids' lunchboxes that they tested.

As it happens, I read her email about half an hour after I had ordered D a Buzz Lightyear lunchbox.  (His teachers have asked that we provide him with a full-sized backpack, and while I was ordering the backpack, I decided for an extra $5, we could spring for the matching lunchbox.)  So, what am I going to do?  Am I going to throw it out?  Or spend as much as the lunchbox itself cost on a lead test kit?  Or give my precious child a potentially toxic bag?

Probably the last.   I read the CEH press release carefully, and it never says how many lunchboxes they tested, or what fraction tested high.  My guess is it's a fairly low percentage, or they would have said.  And, as they said:

"The levels CEH found in the lunch boxes are not high enough to cause acute lead poisoning during normal use. However, if your child is exposed to lead from other sources, a leaded lunch box would add to their health risk."

As a basis for comparison, the amount of lead any child is likely to be exposed to through a lunch box is small compared to what every one of my generation and earlier breathed as a result of leaded gasoline.  I'm not criticizing Mieke or anyone else who wants to test their child's lunchbox.  I'm glad that CEH is keeping the manufacturers' honest.  But I'm not going to worry about it myself.

Except at 2 am.

Gretna, Justice, and God

Earlier this week, I turned on the radio and heard this NPR story about the bridge at Gretna.  My husband, who generally avoids the news as much as possible, hadn't heard about this event before.  When the story was over, he looked at the handful of goldfish crackers that he had picked up, and discovered that he had turned them into goldfish dust from clenching his fists.

Rob at Big Monkey, Helpy Chalk faxed a letter to Mayor Ronnie Harris of Gretna, and Harris called him back.  Rob posted his transcript of their conversation.  It's quite fascinating.

Rivka at Respectful of Otters suggests that cognitive dissonance leads some people to portray the victims of Katrina as bad people, who got what they deserved.  She writes:

Cognitive dissonance gets particularly ugly when reality collides with the just world hypothesis, the belief that "the world is an orderly, predictable, and just place, where people get what they deserve." Faced with tragedy, victimization, or injustice, just world believers have four options to reduce the cognitive dissonance: they can act quickly to help relieve the victim's suffering (restoring the justice of the situation), minimize the harm done (making the tragedy a less severe blow to their beliefs), justify the suffering as somehow deserved (redefining the situation as just), or focus on a larger, more encompassing just outcome of the "poor people will receive their rewards in heaven" variety.

When the NPR story on Gretna ended, I said "And when they die, they shall go to the Pearly Gates.  And there will be a bridge to get there...."

Unfortunately, I don't really believe in a heaven/hell where everyone gets their just deserts.  So I'm left believing that the only justice in the universe is that which we create.  And that's often a pretty weak justice.

The usually funny WaiterRant got all philosophical in the aftermath of Katrina.  He quoted a pastor named Dietrich Bonhoeffer, executed for his part in an attempt to assassinate Hitler, who said: “God is weak and powerless in the world, and that is exactly the way, the only way, in which he can be with us and help us.”

The Waiter's take on this was:

"But within Bonhoeffer’s words lies a challenge. Since God doesn’t come down in a blizzard of special effects to bail us out – we have to help each other. We recognize the suffering of others and are moved to relieve it. We can’t coop ourselves up in our apartments, churches, and mosques wishing all the bad things will go away. There’s no room for childish magical thinking. We have to act. The rescuers of 9/11 and the Gulf Coast understood this without all the fancy theological reflection. Bonhoeffer would say when we help each other that is God helping us."

That sounds about right to me.

I'm trying to make Shabbat more a part of my life, and (at least for right now) that involves staying away from the computer.  See you Sunday.

Arrrr!

Arrgh!  Typepad just ate my post so I have to start over. 

Arrrr!  Did you know that today is International Talk Like a Pirate Day?  It's a wonderful example of how silliness can take off.  Two guys had an idea, they emailed Dave Barry, and the rest is history.

Oh come on, some of you are saying, it's not a real holiday.  Well, my local Barnes and Noble thinks it is.  We went in last week, and they have a big display labelled "September 19: Talk Like A Pirate Day."  Ok, it's hidden in the children's section, but still... if it's being merchandised, it must be a real holiday.  Shiver me timbers!  And flea is even offering a special discount of 40% off all purchases from her sex toy shop

So, go to it.   Arrr.

Update: Pass the grog, mateys!  Many of my favorite bloggers are joining in the party:

9/11 remembrances

Today I got an email with the header "Reminder ** Commemoration of Patriot Day SUNDAY, September 11th."   Not to be confused with Patriots Day, which commemorates the Battles of Lexington and Concord, "Patriot Day" is apparently the officially designated name for September 11th.

The email went on to say:

"Our citizens have been looking for a meaningful way to commemorate September
11, 2001, its victims, and our heroes in uniform who continue to serve.

This September 11th, we are answering our citizens' call-to-action by
hosting the inaugural America Supports You Freedom Walk, organized by the
Department of Defense and supported by Stars and Stripes newspaper."

I believe that commemorating the September 11th attacks and honoring those who serve America in the military are both highly worthy goals.  But I'm intensely uncomfortable about combining both causes into a single event.  I see this as part of the Administration's attempt to blur the lines between the war in Iraq and the ongoing struggle against terrorism and to imply that Saddam Hussein was somehow responsible for the 9/11 attacks.

So, I wasn't planning on participating in the "Freedom Walk" in any case, but my jaw dropped when I read in the Washington Post about the security measures being imposed:

"The march, sponsored by the Department of Defense, will wend its way from the Pentagon to the Mall along a route that has not been specified but will be lined with four-foot-high snow fencing to keep it closed and "sterile," said Allison Barber, deputy assistant secretary of defense.

The U.S. Park Police will have its entire Washington force of several hundred on duty and along the route, on foot, horseback and motorcycles and monitoring from above by helicopter. Officers are prepared to arrest anyone who joins the march or concert without a credential and refuses to leave, said Park Police Chief Dwight E. Pettiford."

The Post reports that the park police offered to screen people entering the Mall, as they do for the big Fourth of July concert and fireworks, but DoD said "We didn't want a bottleneck at the concert."  Somehow it works ok on the 4th, when hundreds of thousands of people come.  What the heck are they so afraid of?  Terrorists or anti-war protestors?

Instead, I'll be participating in the DC Unity Walk, an interfaith walk from Washington Hebrew Congregation, to the Islamic Center, and the Gandhi memorial.  The mission statement is:

"We walk together as neighbors from many faiths and cultures. We gather in
peace to demonstrate our unity, recalling the spirit of togetherness that
grew out of 9/11 and rejecting the paths of despair and revenge. We
commemorate this day because concern for each other's welfare is the shared
hope of us all."

If anyone reading this is planning on going and wants to meet up, drop me an email.  I'll probably have N with me in the stroller.  (D has a birthday party to attend.)

Sufficiently advanced incompetence

Via Making Light, I ran across this vaguely attributed quote:

Any sufficiently advanced incompetence is indistinguishable from malice.

As Roz Kaveny explains:

"I love it simply because it nails both the folly and the irrelevance of conspiracy theory. It is not necessary to claim that the President of e.g. the USA is setting out to kill a maximum number of African Americans out of deliberate spite. It is sufficient to point out that if you take a job involving life and death, and go on doing it when you are clearly incompetent, then you are morally responsible anyway. There is a duty not to be crap at what you do."

This fits in very nicely with Barack Obama's take on the federal response (via MsMusings):

"I think there were a set of assumptions made by federal officials that people would hop in their SUVs, and top off with a $100 tank of gas and Poland Spring water."

"We as a society and this administration in particular have not been willing to make sacrifices or shape an agenda to help low-income people."

In the last couple of days, my office has been very peripherally involved with responding to Katrina, and all I have to say is that it doesn't give me a whole lot of reason for hope.

On a related note, I've been thinking a lot lately about Susan Wood, and her resignation from the FDA over the emergency contraception decision, saying that it "is contrary to my core commitment to improving and advancing women's health." 

Shortly after I started working at HHS (over 9 years ago!), my new boss, Wendell Primus, resigned his position in protest of Clinton's decision to sign the welfare reform bill.  Several months later, he was followed by his boss, Peter Edelman, and the ACF Assistant Secretary, Mary Jo Bane.  But all three of them were political appointees, obligated to represent the President's position. 

At what point, if any, is a career civil servant morally responsible for being part of an organization that is crap at what it is supposed to be doing?

What I'm doing

Dawn suggested that we talk about what we're doing to help Katrina's victims, because doing something is the best antidote to despair that we've got.

I gave some money to the Red Cross.  I deliberately requested that it go to the general disaster relief fund, not just to Katrina's victims, because you never know what's going to hit next week.  I want them to have the flexibility to use the money where it's needed most.

I gathered up a big bag of summer clothes to donate -- a bunch of stuff that won't fit N by next summer, the shoes that he wore for about 3 weeks before outgrowing, some of my rejects from the great shorts hunt.  When I went to Target for dishwashing soap and milk, I also picked up a stack of underwear.  Because lots of people are donating used clothes, but who wants to wear used undies?  I'll bring it all in to work, where one of my coworkers said she'd bring it to a friend whose company is sending a shipment to Texas.

(I know, I know.  All the experts say that money is the most useful thing to send.  But I'm hearing reports out of Houston and Baton Rouge that the shelves in the stores are bare.  And I think it's a mistake to discount the human connection that grows when you make an in-kind donation and imagine the people who will be wearing those specific clothes or eating that food.  It sounds like the people coordinating services for the evacuees here in DC have all the donations they can handle.)

I volunteered at work to come in over the weekend to help answer the hotline for medical professionals who want to volunteer, but wasn't called in.  I suspect they had many more volunteers than they could use.  (Grim note:  the list of professionals they use has been expanded as of today to include coroners, medical examiners, morticians...)

I gave blood a few weeks ago, so can't give again right now.  But I'll give when I can.  The Red Cross comes to our office building on a regular cycle, which makes it easy.

On re-reading, this doesn't feel like very much, not in the scale of the disaster.  But the idea is that it's a big country, and a bigger world, and if we all do the little that we feel able to do, it will add up to a lot.

Leadership

Moxie wrote an interesting post contrasting the leadership shown on 9/11 with the lack of it this week:

"What do they need?" we asked.

They had an answer for that, Rudy & Company. They told us what was needed and where to bring it. When there wasn't anything civilians could do, they told us. And we knew it was true. We knew we had to just sit tight until the rescuers needed something we could give."

I'm not sure that's quite a fair comparison. 9/11 was logistically simple compared to the mess caused by Katrina.  There were very few wounded, and remarkably little damage outside the few blocks of the twin towers.  It was a mess getting everyone home that first day, but the weather was good, and except for emotional trauma, most people got away with nothing worse than blisters from walking a long distance.

Moreover, at least some of the answers that Rudy and co. gave that first week turned out to be wrong.  They said there was no reason to worry about the lingering cloud of dust.  (I was in the city six weeks later, and you could still taste it in the air.)  At best, this was an attempt to put a positive spin on an uncertain situation, to try to avoid panic and a mass exodus that would have damaged NYC for years.  At worst, it was an outright lie.

But yes, reading the coverage this week has made me appreciate what Giuliani did.  He managed to set an emotional tone of projecting confidence without seeming to take things less seriously than they deserved, of acknowledging the huge task ahead without seeming overwhelmed.  Bush still seems to be smirking and joking about Trent Lott's house.  Nagin seems to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown.  FEMA officials seem to have forgotten that no one cares about how hard they're working, only the results.  And the results -- or lack thereof -- speak for themselves.

And if this report is true -- if the food distribution center where Bush's press conference was held was a fake, taken down as soon as he left -- then heaven help us all.  I'm pretty cynical these days, but that's beyond what I can wrap my head around.  I'm literally nauseous at the thought.  (Via Scrivenings and Phantom Scribbler)

Important Update: Respectful of Otters and Idealistic Pragmatist tracked down the German video that was cited as the source, and found that it did not say that the food distribution center was a fake.  It did report that the street cleaning crews in Biloxi only showed up when the President was there.  As Rivka wrote:

"But we need to be careful not to undercut the points we're trying to make with even unintentional amplification. The news coming out of the U.S. Gulf Coast, including the biting commentary by ZDF news, is damning enough as it stands."

If you've reported on this story as fact, please update it.

Ads