How Have You Changed in the past Four Years?

 I saw this question asked on Facebook and in the media. I recall the bleak day after our last presidential election. I crawled out of bed bleary eyed, dragged myself to a part-time job, and could barely speak. When I returned home, I plopped on my sofa in the middle of the day, which I never do unless ill. I was ill, so to speak, with despair. Of course, I called my sister and friends.

During the first days and weeks post election 2016, people I met appeared normal. Either they, like myself, were screaming internally, or they were unaware of the immense changes to come. The Shabbat after the election brought me some solace. It was the beginning of the Resistance movement and a strong camaradarie. The Rabbi asked the congregants to talk, as we sat in a circle. Many of us asked, "How could people vote for him?"

Returning to my original question, the change in me is utter shock and dismay that half of the population rejects truth in favor of  partisan politics. On a deeper level, I discovered that half of the country and the majority of Republican politicians and leaders accept outright lies, corruption, treason and crime. Naively, I believed that truth and morality were the final arbiters over political party. Politicians have stretched the truth forever, but Trump introduced a new era of anti-Democracy. Stupidly, I believed Americans would stand proudly for truth and goodness. Silly me, I expected Americans to respect the rule of law. Unfortuately, I have ascertained that fear, individual gain, and religious fundamentalism (Christian and Jewish) outweigh truth. When religious zealots choose death over life, we have lost the American spirit. When people listen to fear over reality, we have crossed the border into a bleak dystopic land. We are no better than the citizens from other nations whom we readily criticize. What has happened to F.D.R.'s words--"There is nothing to fear but fear itself?"

The list is endless--Muslim ban, loosening of environmental protection, anti-semitism, racism, police violence, collusion with Russia, adulation of the world's most ruthless dictators, and detention and expulsion of asylum seekers at our southern borders. Nothing matters anymore. Dead children at the Rio Grande River, over 200,000 dead from COVID-19, and numerous killed from random shootings does not sway predominately white people (of some privilege) to cheer for Trump and vote for him in two elections. Often, these voters pick one issue and are blind to what is occurring around them. For example,"Trump says he is against abortion, so I'll ignore eveything else." Or "My taxes will be lower and the stocks are doing better, so he gets my vote."  Continuting to believe Trump's crimes would dissuade people, I was so wrong. Lies are accepted because they assuage fears enough for these voters to suppress reality. Even an impeachment had no affect on the "base."

Now, this is the clincher. Even when friends and loved ones are dead, Trump's supporters refuse to change their minds. Death is evidently insufficient to awaken a person in denial. I live in a foreign country now. I was born here, but I do not belong. There is nowhere to go, especially with the virus. Where can a 69 year old retiree move to? Perhaps, by some miracle, Biden will win. I will be elated. But, these others are out there. We are not a United States of America. I am very sad. I was never a blind patriot. I criticized the leaders; I was skeptical of various policies and presidents.  But an ugliness has been revealed that will take generations to change. 

Despite the negative picture I have created, we Americans have experienced great changes in my lifetime. So why would people want to go back to segregation, a hierarchy that prevents minorities from participating fully in our society, the disabled back in institutions or on the streets, smokestacks spewing pollution, guns on people's belts, and an absence of health care for all? Is one selfish, misguided rationalization or fear strong enough to allow for the abuse of women, the handicapped, homosexuals (transgenders, etc.) and racial minorities? 

Evidently so. 

More Musings on Racism

 Racism has been with humankind for centuries. Americans focus on our sin of slavery. After slavery was abolished, a more subtle form of subjugation took hold in the South. The remainder of what was the United States at the end of the 19th century continued to function with other forms of bondage. Less obvious, but detrimental to African Americans, were discrimination in housing, education, justice, and overall opportunities for socio-economic advancement. Asian-Americans, Native Americans, and Hispanic Americans suffered greatly, in specific regions of the country, during our history.

Mea culpa--I am white. I will never know exactly how it feels to be non-white. I am Jewish, though, so I have an inkling of the deadly effects of discrimination.  

The brief summary above takes one through the 20th and early 21st century. Unfortunately, racism is alive and well. I grew up in a period when segregation of races was commonly accepted. My parents never demonstrated hatred of other races; however, my mother and father did not exactly embrace people of color. There's was a standoffish attitude. 

The San Francisco of the 1950's and 1960's that I experienced during my childhood was characterized by segregated schools and neighborhoods. I never set foot in the Black and Mexican neighborhoods. I did visit Chinatown because of the restaurants and shops. As cities go, San Francisco was liberal and polite. Hatred was not acceptable nor encouraged. However, integration of the races was discouraged. 

When the house next door was sold to Black Americans, my parents and the neighbors went slightly ballistic. I knew then that something was not right in the state of Monterey Heights, my neighborhood in San Francisco. The family moved in, and there were never any serious problems or incidents. My younger brother played with their youngest daughter. I remember fondly when Myrenia and her grey cat came to our kitchen to "play cards" with my brother. The experience of having Black neighbors in the mid 1960's enabled our family to grow and become less fearful. It must be noted that we never socialized.

My first direct experience with African American peers was in junior high school. The kids lived in an area called Ingleside. They were hardly ghetto tough, but to me they were intimidating. They didn't shy away from asserting themselves. I shrunk like a fading flower. Most important was the academic tracking that occurred. As the achievement level of the students in a homeroom increased, the amount of Black youngsters decreased. This was classic discrimination based on race.

My class had two Black students; I was in an average group. I remember them well. Ted was probably the first gay young man I ever met. Rochelle was very sweet, smart, and an excellent student. She went on to become a pediatrician. Again, I knew that something was rotten in the state of Aptos Junior High. My academic high school consisted primarily of white and Asian students, with a sprinkling of Blacks, reminding me of a pinch of pepper in a creamy colored soup.

This is shameful to admit but I do not remember any Black students during my college years, in the 1970's. As I think back on this realization, I am astounded. There was one African American young woman--who unfortunately dropped out--in my master's degree program in Boston. There was a large population of Blacks in Boston at the time.

My most valuable lesson occurred in Montgomery County, Maryland, where I have lived for the past 44 years. I was employed by the public school system, so I plunged into a pool of staff and children from all over the world, including the ghettos of Washington D.C. I feel lucky to have worked side by side and socialized with staff of all colors and shades. I learned a great deal of value, both from the adults and students. Not all was positive, I admit. The lingering affects of generational poverty--caused by inequities--left me feeling frustrated, defeated, and hopeless. 

I am a work in progress in relation to racism. As Americans, we must constantly re-evaluate our opinions about others--not a task for those who refuse introspection. Montgomery County Public Schools (MCPS) required staff in the 1980's to take in-service classes in Black, Asian, and Latino studies. Therefore, I have a strong foundation in racial/cultural bias. I was also exposed to the concept of institutional racism in college classes. Nothing nor anybody are perfect, and the school system is continually criticized and forced to address racial issues; but, I believe MCPS was ahead of its time.

Now I move on to a subset of racism or a branch on the huge tree of racist thought and policy. I write of religion, a most controversial subject, especially in the present chaos that is our society. I am Jewish, so I will only address what I know. This is in no way meant to focus on Jews in a critical manner. I am writing about positive change; we can improve ourselves forever. 

It is a well-established fact that Jewish people have lived in a variety of countries, literally in all parts of the world. Jews are not only white and European; they are brown, black, and tan. They are Middle Eastern, African, and Asian. By now, the majority of Jews are aware of Ashkenazi and Sephardi Jews, the former being of European descent and the latter of Spanish and Middle Eastern origins. But, do you know that there are Jews who live or have resided in China, Morocco, Central Asia, India, and Ethiopia, to name a few countries? 

In our quickly changing society, intermarriage of the races and religions is increasingly commonplace. International and domestic adoption creates interracial families. So, a Black person, for example, may come to a Shabbat service some Friday night or Saturday morning at a synagogue near you. I know that my first thoughts when I see someone of color sitting by me (before COVID) on Shabbat is, Why are you here? Are you Jewish? How did you come to be Jewish? In contrast, when I see a person who looks Jewish and/or is white, I think, Oh, good, maybe he/she is interested in our congregation. When I see an Asian child sitting with a Caucasian parent, I think adoption. But, I could be wrong, the young one could be from the union of an interracial marriage.

But what happens when that child grows up and steps into a synagogue? My son, adopted from Peru, refuses to visit my accepting, inclusive congregation. He feels he would be the only "brown person." And on most Fridays and Saturdays, he would be correct. My fellow congregants would not ask, "Are you Jewish?" They know he is adopted. 

But what would transpire if my son walks into a synagogue somewhere else? He would probably be welcomed. But congregants would ask themselves the questions I say to myself. Would the police guard get jumpy? Would the women shy away from him? And just as damaging, would he have to explain himself ad nauseum, each and every time he meets a new congregant.? Why not a Jewish person who comes from Peru? I happen to know of a Jewish woman, who is brown, beautiful, and Peruvian. Her father was posted to Israel for the foreign service. She converted to Judaism while living in Israel. 

The most embarrasing error one could make is when a person of color is at a Jewish celebration and is questioned per usual. His/her answer is, "My father/mother is Jewish." Why should this person be put on the spot, to feel awkward, or to divulge personal information? The visitor or congregant is from an interracial marriage. Of course, the individual is as Jewish as I am. Skin color is not part of the equation.

Kase for Karen/Case for Caren

 Laugh all you want. LOL. OMG. You, too, if you are lucky, will be middle aged and older some day. Let's get some basics out of the way. Black Lives Matter. I believe in masks. I am the mother of two children who are brown. I am the oldest daughter of Holocaust survivors. I abhor the dangerous systemic racism that permeates our institutions. The police shamelessly target young men of color. If you know me, you know that I fight for those who are disadvantaged.

If you prefer to call me a racist, go ahead. As we say, "it is a free country." Please, for your sake, refer to Ibram Kendi's book, How to be an Anti-Racist. Kendi, a proud black man, clearly states that anti racism is a belief in policies that treat all people equally or not unfairly based on race. Anger towards white people is understandable, but to spew disdain towards caucasians is not anti-racism. It is merely switching one "racism" for another. So if you want to hate white women go ahead. I know I have an inborn privilege. The black/white discrimination is ancient, with deep roots which permeate almost every culture known to humankind. Also, read about Gandhi, Eleanor Roosevelt, Martin Luther King, Nelson Mandela, and Jimmy Carter, among a myriad of important,contemporary thinkers and doers.

Please realize, you are being sexist by using the epithet, "Karen." Hatred of women is equal opportunity. Misogynsts hate all women, no matter their color. Why not Karen and Kris or Caren and Connor? Why just the women? It is easier for everyone to yell at women. We are not as scary as men. And criticizing women is a national pastime. Frequently, I observe women being the target of disdain, ridicule, and aggression. Young black women need to realize that for every white Karen, there is a black Karen who is your aunt, grandmother, or mother. 

Memes of any sort are bad. I am extremely careful not to utter these code words, since they hurt one way or another. Actually, memes are stereotypes, the latter being extremely dangerous as history has demonstrated. Use of these words, ideas, metaphors perpetuate hatred, misunderstanding, and racism, the basis for genocide, slavery, and murder.

As Kendi wrote, we all have racist thoughts occasionally. But thinking, then analyzing, and finally self-monitoring are different than tweeting out an incendiary message that goes viral. I am not Amy Cooper. I keep my dog on a leash, and I would not call the police about a black man who is birding. But, whoever started calling Amy Cooper a "Karen" is immature and wrong. Amy Cooper has psychological issues which she needs to address. And she committed a crime, but, she too, can repent for her bad behavior. I repeat, I would only call the police if in imminent danger, whether the person is white, black, yellow, or brown. I have witnessed what the police do to men and women of color. 

Our country has committed sins--slavery being the most obvious. However, the treatment of Native Americans has been criminal. All races have been treated unfairly at some point in history. OK, call me racist if it makes you feel better. 

I know hatred. For years, I hated Germans. My family lost their lives, homes, country, and livelihood due to the Nazis. Sometime in middle age, I realized that blaming Germans was senseless. First, most of the Nazis are gone. Secondly, there are more decent Germans than not. The rise of Nazism occurred due to complex issues in an environment fertile for hatred. Ordinary people allowed themselves to be coerced by fear-mongering sociopaths. Sound familiar? Germany has made tremendous contributions to European civilization. I am German Jewish, so why would I hate the culture that nurtured and supported my ancestors for centuries? 

I know this is not the same as being Black in America. I understand! The United States owes African Americans land, reparations, and actual equal opportunity. But my name is Karen because my mother chose the moniker. I want these advantages for Black, Hispanic, and Native Americans. Why would you think otherwise because I look like a "Karen" and happen to be actually, Karen?

Antiracism

Challenging, New, Fresh, Comprehensive--How To Be An Antiracist (Audiobooks version), by Ibram Kendi, encompasses those qualities. Listening to a writer read their words creates a virtual immediacy and intimacy for the listener. Mr. Kendi expresses his theories with candor and clarity in a deeply resonant voice, with a uniquely patterned rhythm. He blends his personal experience with didactic thought, keeping the narrative interesting.
Ibram Kendi distinguishes racism, non-racism, and anti-racism as three separate ideas leading to different policies. Put another way, one can contrast segregation and assimilation as leading to racist policy and antiracism resulting in antiracist policy. Without a doubt, segregation denotes a more seriously racist viewpoint than assimilation. But, actually, assimilation is racist because it assumes that Blacks need to assimilate to a superior way of life. Contrasting racism with non-racism seems obvious until one absorbs Kendi's ideas. It is insufficient to claim one is not racist. Further exploration and introspection reveal ideas, long accepted among liberals, that are not as benign as one thought. Blaming Black people for increased crime rates is ignoring racist policy. Racist policy denys people of color equal opportunities for obtaining an education, jobs, healthcare, mortgages, to name a few. Blaming Black individuals for increased incarceration is ignoring racist policies related to police behavior, racial profiling, bail, and the cost of obtaining a lawyer. Racist policy is based on racism, eventhough it may look like equity. Every child has access to public schools; however, the contrast between public schools in black and white neighborhoods continues to be spectacular. Even when school systems attempt to integrate schools, black children are viewed differently from their white and Asian peers.
I have observed this phenomenon in my years working in public school systems. I myself have behaved in ways, steeped in cultural and behavioral racism. Well-intentioned, as many liberal are, has not precluded me from acting in biased ways--i.e. that child won't do well, how could he, look at his disadvantages; those parents won't show up to the meeting, don't they care? 
Black history is taught in schools, which is a positive step. However, the deeper aspects of systemic racism continue in our schools, usually not acknowledged. Black boys are punished more severely and more frequently; children of color are usually ignored in class if they are not in trouble; lower level classes contain a higher number of minority students; success in school remains unidimensional--good grades, some athletic prowess, test scores, college. Any other path is considered inferior, especially if the student is not white. Academic intelligence remains the most acceptable form of accomplishment.
Regardless of the fact that I am not virulently racist or a white supremacist, I still have deeply ingrained racist ideas. I assume that black families function the same as my family, have the same values, and the same strengths and weaknesses. Furthermore, even more dangerous, is the thinking that my values lead to success, and other values do not. This is cultural racism, one race's culture is superior to another. Countless examples abound--ebonics is slang; rap is trash; urban fashion is based on jail uniforms; black churches are too raucous; and black men are overly sexual. I learned a new concept--being Fresh. This is looking good, stylish, clean, and neat, exemplified by ladies going to church in lovely hats and coats and teenagers treating their sneakers as precious jewels. White people criticize the latter (not the former) but I think wearing immaculate clothing is an expression of power, self-esteem, and pride on the part of African Americans. In the 1970's white individuals castigated the African Americans for sporting afros and dashikis. Now, we have become accustomed to that style, but bristle at the crisp new polo shirts and bright colored basketball sneakers. Go figure?
Blacks themselves can be racist, living by the rules of white culture, overly critical of the younger generations (their children and grandchildren) and, as the author notes, invoking Martin Luther King, for example, Mr. King wouldn't be happy with your poor grades. White parents engage in these "guilt trips" as well, which the author does not acknowledge. The author notes that being anti-white is just as racist as being anti-black. The label "racist" should not be confined to describing Caucasian and Asians. He admits his culpability in his former insistence that whte people are "monsters".

When a Caucasian person commits a wrongdoing, they are "given another chance", forgiven, or punished for what they did. If a Black person is guilty--or if a youngster does poorly in school--white people think something along the lines of: he's black and underprivileged, what do you expect; he doesn't have a father, etc.; why don't they learn how to behave already; these people have too many kids. White individuals are blameworthy for their crimes; the entire black race is culpable for a few people's misdeeds.
I have personal experience with this unfortunate situation, what Ibram Kendi calls behavioral racism. If a group of kids misbehave, the kid of color is likely to receive the worst punishment. I have witnessed such racism countless times. But, no one will change the inherent beliefs that lead to such unfair decisions. Unbelievable as it seems, even if the person of color is adopted and has white parents, the kid will still be punished more severely. Only if and when a highly skilled attorney defends the child of color, may the judgement be mitigated. Again--racism with a capital "R". White and Black parents, both highly sophisticated and intelligent, are powerless to affect change. Teachers, coaches, principals, and school counselors treat children and teenagers of color differently. So do employers. White adults are excused from misbehavior far more often than black or latinx individuals in the world of work.
Antiracist policy assumes that all people are equal, certainly not a novel idea. So why then do we continue to accept that race is a critical factor in the behavior of our citizens? Why does a police officer kill a Black man for passing a fake $20 bill, but probably laugh it off or submit a citation if a white guy tried the same trick? Why does a police officer kill a Black man for running away, after a minor offense, such as parking in a no-parking zone? Mr. Kendi would say that people fear black bodies--as violent, strong, big, and inherently dangerous. This is clearly racist policy. The antiracist police would be to train all officers who use weapons to act based on the circumstances, not the color of the potential perpetrators color.
Ibram Kendi digs into the deep past for the origins of racism, finding the roots in European explorers, anthropologists, royalty, philosophers, social scientists, and religious and lay leaders. The author notes that humans of all races are 98% similar genetically. Theories of biological differences between races, resulting in racist policy, are flawed. Mr. Kendi elaborates that race is a blended construct used for the purposes of power. And power begets money which results in racist policy to maintain the status quo. Later in the book, the author continues to explain the relationship between capitalism/racism/war.
Kendi explains ethnic racism which is aimed at groups within a race. For example, African Americans vs. Blacks from Africa or the Carribean. The latter two groups often denigrate the African Americans. The African Americans ridicule the immigrants from Africa and the Carribean. Jews are guilty of ethnic racism too; historically, German Jews disparaged East European Jews. Ashkenazi (mostly European) Jews besmirched Sephardic (primarily from the middle east) Jews in recent years, though this prejudice is decreasing. Now, Jews from Africa are considered inferior in Israel. And the beat goes on.

The second section of the book is divided into chapters with headings such as Color, Space, Failure, Success, Survival. My attention wandered during this less compelling second half. I sensed that these topics could have been lifted from a course syllabus. The second part of the book would be a great text book, containing clear explanation of concepts and repetition, excellent for a student. Mr. Kendi described a "colorist" as an African American who alters ones physical characteristics--such as straightening hair, changing eye color with contacts, and use of whitening products. These are racist behaviors on the part of blacks. Favoring lighter skinned blacks has been an acceptable viewpoint in the United States for centuries. 

Ibram Kendi explores affirmative action, a controversial subject to say the least. He attests that white people fear losing their advantage. In truth, affirmative action benefits people of all colors and ehnicities; affirmative action programs usually promote universal health care, increased lower and middle income housing, and postive changes for the environment, such as cleaner air and water.

The ending shocked me; two young people are struck by cancer, namely the author and his wife. 

The conclusion is painful--racism is a cancer in our country. The hope is the treatment, in the case of racism--antiracist policies. The final message is to work for candidates and groups who will promote and vote for bills which will become laws to legalize and enforce equality for all in a truly equitable manner.

Two Train Cars

Odd as it seems, my sister, brother, and I embarked on a transcontinental rail trip, with our parents, in August 1968. The train conveyed us from San Francisco to Los Angeles, across the southwest to Louisiana, and further southeast to Tampa, Florida, not a straight path across the country, We visited our dear family friends in Florida. No one traveled by train in those days.The railroads suffered financial setbacks, and passenger routes rapidly diminished in the 1960's. Most Americans traversed the nation by airplane or car.

17 years old on my birthday in June, the assasinations of  Martin Luther King and Robert F. Kennedy occurred in April and June, respectively. These tragedies forced me to face the unrest and conflict occurring in the United States, centered around the Vietnam War and Civil Rights. Unsavory aspects of our country entered my mind, as I faced my senior year in high school. A few years before, I watched a movie about migrant workers, "Harvest of Shame", and digested the bitter truth of extreme poverty in an affluent nation. 

I clearly remember the August morning we boarded the train, wearing nice clothes for travel. I sported a yellow and blue pinstriped summer suit, which I loved. We wore our respectable outfits until Los Angeles. Then we changed into comfortable clothing for the hardcore adventure of traveling across the barren land of the southwestern United States--hot, brown, dry, with isolated cabins and cacti dotting the landscape. Occasionally, if you looked carefully, you might see a lonely farmer or shepherd waving his/her hat in the hot sun. 

Phew. Luckily, we had air conditioning in our car. But, sleeping was nearly impossible for me, in sticky naugahide coach seats that barely moved backwards. The fun aspect of trains is that one can walk through the train which my siblings and I did to asuage boredom. 

Something was very curious in the next coach car, I discovered. There was a strong, musky smell in the hot, stagnant air. I could not avoid noticing that everyone in the train car was black, "negro" as we said. There were large dark women, with huge arms, crowded in seats they shared with their small children. Thinner, weary, wrinkled men, sat together--some ate chicken. The compartment was generally quiet. The people were too drained to talk or laugh. Pitifully, they perspired profusely; the carriage was stifling. There was no air conditioning or ventilation! Horrified and shocked, I knew this was not accidental. How could it be? How did all the white people have tickets for one car and the black individuals for their own car? 

This was 1968 not 1948. Our family--minus my brother who was not yet born--took the same trip in 1958. I was too young to recall much of that trip. However, I do remember separate water fountains, for "white and coloreds". Fondly, I remember popsicles in Tampa and refreshing glasses of iced tea at Lake Ponchetrain (New Orleans). 

Back to 1968, four years post Civil Rights Act--obviously, the segregated cars were accomplished when people bought tickets. In those days, travelers purchased tickets from an agent, at a ticket office. I surmise that the clerk noted the passenger's race and assigned him/her to a railcar. The conductor verified all was in order on the day of travel. 

I asked my parents repeatedly about the situation, but they did not respond with a direct answer. They did not disagree, but they were reluctant to utter the truth of what was in front of their eyes. I had not yet read about the nightmarish freight train cars used by the Nazis to transport Jews and others to their deaths. Did my parents make an association? Or am I overly optimistic in crediting them with connecting the present to the past?

From that day hence, I knew with confidence that a rotten core existed in the center of our country. I learned it was racism. There had already been race riots the summer before, in 1967. After the recent assassinations, there was more violent unrest in cities. And the Chicago riots after the Democratic National Convention were in a few short weeks. 

Never again would I view a scene or situation at its surface level. From that August morning, as the train roared down the tracks in New Mexico and Texas, I began to peer beneath the surface of interactions and scenes. Certainly, I committed many stupid errors. In college, I learned about institutional racism and Jim Crow. My years working in a diverse public school system opened my mind and molded my opinions. I was not consistently fair or compassionate with parents and students. But, I learned unimaginable lessons about disadvantaged minorities, that are the bedrock of my values. I read, watched, and listened. Friendships developed with African Americans.

The years progressed. I dug down deeper, in myself and in our nation's experiences. I usually discovered an awareness that was not so pleasant. Though, there have been times when I have been happily surprised!

Marching with a Mask; Learning a Lesson

  Guilty as charged with the crime of grasping my purse to my body when passing a young black male on the street, especially when alone. White people on the defensive would remark I have good reason to be cautious. Once, I was mugged by a young, dark man while walking alone in an isolated area of San Francisco. Dumb move on my part? Yes. Regardless, one time should not cause a change in a lifetime of behavior. I grasp my bag because of the instituional racism that is branded on my brain. Fear of black people is embedded in our culture and reinforced by media, movies, and television programs. The message has been loud and clear--white women be cautious of young black men! I grew up in the ancient times of the mid 20th century when adults in my environment uttered racist statements unabashedly. But back to black men. It should be noted I have been on both sides. My son is brown, and I witnessed a woman grab her purse close to her body when she walked into an elevator. I stood beside my son, but the woman did not guess we were mother and son. 

Today, I walked briskly down the Rockville Pike, yelling chants, such as "No Justice No Peace". "No Racist Police", etc. with my black, brown, yellow, red, and white brothers and sisters. As I returned to my car, now dragging myself in the humid Maryland summer heat, several young black men passed me--some dressed in "urban" garb-- and nodded. I realized, we are friends, compatriots, fellow warriors in a fight for justice. They probably thought, what a nice white grandma. I thought what a nice young man!

Soft Spots

The soft spots on an infant's head do not remain a long time. So it is with my psyche. I feel a softness so seldomly these days. This morning, I listened to a Zoom production of "Yerushalyim Shel Zahav", and a softness opened up in me. The music, the beautiful voices of the female cantors, and scenes of Israel unlocked a sweet sadness. The pictures of Jerusalem triggered the old, idealistic promise of Israel, gone forever. One of the singers in the Zoom production was a former cantor at Temple Emanuel in San Francisco. She sang at my mother's funeral in July. Immediately, I recalled the perfect moment of her pure voice, singing a psalm, for my mother in the hush of a chapel.
In these awful times, I find myself angry, afraid, and aghast at the daily demise of our Democracy. Simultaneous to the present deterioration of commonly-held values, I am sincerely shocked at the extent to which people defy common sense. There is a pandemic. Nearly 100,000 people have died--parents, siblings, children, colleagues, friends, lovers. But--what--due to  ill-conceived illogical thinking and association with fear of the future, racism, zenophobia, and resentment, Americans have twisted medical advice on its head. Doctors and scientists no longer are experts. Charlatans and snake oil salesmen-like characters are the new experts. P.T. Barnum was correct.
My body is tense; my blood pressure is probably up. My mother would say, "don't let it make you sick". Easier said than done. Our country is a sad joke. I recollect Charlie Chaplin in "The Great Dictator".  I was never a chauvinist about America. However, this situation is beyond anything I could have dreamed, in a nightmare. In a seriously distorted turn, I am applying for German citizenship.
Before I go any further, I must return to softness. Pull my shoulders down, take a deep breath, and remember the unfolding of peonies, the Canada Geese that have taken over the shore of our local pond, the birdsong. Breathe again, read, and then look for the new duck couple at the fountains.