Random Reminders On Civil Disobedience

No, this is not an analysis of Thoreau’s essay in Walden. Just some quick random thoughts on that venerable protest strategy.

• Thoreau went to jail.

• Mahatma Gandhi went to jail (and worse).

• Rosa Parks went to jail.

• Martin Luther King, Jr. went to jail. 

If you want to join that admirable group and practice civil disobedience, you have my respect and I support your right to do so, whether or not I agree with your POV or stance. You are joining in an honorable tradition – but only if you don’t whine if/when you face the consequences of your actions.

You don’t get to claim civil disobedience AND immunity from the ramifications of your actions. The above-named historical heroes all believed they were on the side of the angels, but, and this is key, they were willing to pay the price of standing (or sitting, in the case of Parks) on the “wrong” side of authority in order to challenge the injustice they saw around them. These masters of civil disobedience actually invited arrest to bring their cause front and center, rather than use cowardly intimidation tactics to avoid any consequence.

You want to grab your gun and march, that is your right. I don’t care what name you want to give your cause or your actions, but you can’t claim civil disobedience. That phrase is reserved for the courageous men and women who stand up for their beliefs without trying to avoid the consequences of their actions.

While it shouldn’t be necessary, let me point out that Thoreau, Gandhi, Parks, & King were non-violent protesters, not gun-toting rowdies. Armed protest threatening violence isn’t civil disobedience, it’s rebellion and insurrection and carries the potential of far more severe repercussions than jail. We had one civil war; it didn’t work out so well for the instigators – and, sadly, the defenders of the country and Constitution who shared the horror of that conflict also paid a steep price. Ironic that so many of the participants are waving flags of history’s losers (Swastikas, Stars & Bars) as they protest.

Don't Put Me In Coach; I'm Not Ready to Play

Ain’t no point in talkin’ when there’s nobody listenin’ so I’ll just stand aside  (apologies to Rod Stewart, Young Turks”)

I have avoided posting or sharing anything critical of President Trump for some time now. I do continue to read and react (mostly privately) to information I encounter in the media, both social and traditional (yes, I read magazines, newspapers, listen to the radio, even watch the occasional television news). After researching sources, I have also posted, and will continue to post, counterpoints to the simplistic memes and blatantly prejudiced and one-sided pieces that violate “the stink test,” as well as those that are either factually inaccurate or conveniently selective in the facts presented.

Nevertheless, I am refraining from joining the chorus of critics on social media. It’s not because I have any confidence in the President, or that I believe he has suddenly become a better person (see R•E•S•P•E•C•T); I do not. However, it’s not a fine line between singing in the choir or just waiting and watching, and until I can bring something to party other than other people’s chips and dip (tweets and shares), I am satisfied to not RSVP. When I do show up to the party (and it’s almost a dead certainty that I will, at some point), it likely will be with a dish (blog post) of my own creation, not something I found in the aisles of the internet.

The anti-Trump choir already has plenty of members; it doesn’t need another monotone to amplify the volume. I respect those who feel the need to speak out, to march, to protest in any number of ways. It is not just their right, but their duty. Perhaps I am even shirking that duty and abrogating my rights by sitting quietly (well, relatively quietly) on the sidelines, at least for the time being. Perhaps the voices are making a difference. If you believe the polls, Mr. Trump has the lowest approval rating in history, or at least since Abraham Lincoln. Therein lies the problem, however.

Mr. Trump’s supporters don’t believe the polls. They justify that stance by (correctly) pointing out that the polls also predicted an election day defeat, and, yet, here he is, the duly elected, 45th president of the United States. I could argue that the biggest positive to come out of this election is a healthy skepticism of polls. I might further argue that reliance on those polls might have cost Secretary Clinton the election. Next time people might actually think it important to vote, like Mr. Trump’s supporters (or Mrs. Clinton’s haters) did.

I am also striving, mightily and some would no doubt say with limited success, to be better than those who never gave President Obama a fair chance, including virtually every Republican in Congress, plus all sorts of people, apparently using Mr. Trump as a role model, who are revising their personal history and now claiming they wanted Mr. Obama to succeed; I remember your posts and memes, even if you don’t. I also remember the steady stream of vitriole from Fox News and Rush Limbaugh. Fair chance? Fat chance!

On our recent cruise with the 1%-ers my standard line was, “It’s premature to judge whether or not Trump will be a good president, but he is NOT a good person.” Having received but one (bizarre, IMO, but it came out of Facebook, so the standards are not particularly high {“He won, so he must be good,” while simultaneously telling me how awful Bill Clinton was.}) defense of his character, clearly that does not seem to matter to his supporters. And if that doesn’t matter, what is the point, because any judgment of the political ramifications of his presidency is pure speculation at this point in history.

For now, at least, I will continue to sit on the sidelines, not because I have any confidence whatsoever in this presidency, but because every time the choir sings, Mr. Trump’s supporters go into their bunkers, dig in their heels, and either fire back a defensive fusillade or put on their noise-cancelling headphones and listen to their own music. I think the chorus is self-defeating at this point; the Trumpet section, playing their own tune equally loudly, is going to have to come to the conclusion that this was not a good choice on their own. That won’t happen quickly, and, obviously, for some, not at all, ever, because clearly our tastes in music differ.

As difficult as it is for people like me to accept, there is absolutely nothing I can say, no facts I can share, no logic I can use that will make a difference. So here I sit. My only concern: Is my passive patience feeding the delusion of not just his supporters but the president himself that I have no worries about what the future holds? That is manifestly untrue (not even an alternate fact), but I also wonder, did the silent “good Germans” enable Adolph Hitler* and his consolidation of power? Although my strategy is not really as passive as it might appear, I do ask myself, “Am I now part of the problem by not being part of the solution?”  As always, I have more questions than answers.

*Am I equating Trump to Hitler? No, at least not yet. But there are parallels which I think supporters ignore at their, and our, peril.

The USA Needs You (And who is "You"?)

I had an exchange with one of my right-leaning (well, in his case, it’s clearly more proudly living than leaning) formers on Facebook.  He is a self-described Constitutionalist who could not abide Obama’s politics or Clinton’s character (I’m sure her political positions didn’t help, either). He was and is, a stand-up member of the brass division, although not the Trumpet section, even if he did vote for him, with at least some misgivings, it seemed.

Instead of adding on to our conversational thread after we had found some common ground, I thought I’d generalize the challenge I thought about leaving with him, in the hopes there are enough more like him to make a difference. Just call me Pollyanna. Here’s what I wanted to add:

We (the Clinton voters and/or liberals), but more importantly, the country, need you to stand up for us and challenge President Trump when he (as he will) tries to blatantly ignore the Constitution. We need you to challenge him when he makes up facts (like the recent Boeing kerfuffle) or reinforces his reputation as the “Fastest Tweet in the West.” We need you to ask thoughtful questions when he makes head-scratching appointments to his cabinet or other federal positions.

We can’t do it (try as we might, and some are trying mightily) because as soon as someone like me opines anything critical of the president-elect, the Trumpet section blares into a cacophonic crescendo of defensiveness. But Pollyanna here does have some (slim) hopes that the true-believing Trumpet section perhaps just might listen to someone who actually voted for the man.

Stand up and be counted. Please. Your country needs you. Patriotism is not just flag waving. It is looking past partisan politics to the long-term good, the morality if you will, of your country. I like to think I am a patriot. Are you?

Wrong Side of History

I am posting this on both my blogs, because it has obvious Hancock roots and memories as well as the more obvious general application. (Slight) apologies to the Hancock Place Hancock Place followers if this has more political overtones than you are generally accustomed to seeing (t)here.

I noticed a FaceBook meme last week, pointing out that amidst all the celebration over American Olympic medals, there was little if any credit given to Title IX.

Talking to my softball girls the other day after practice, I noted that when I started teaching, there was only the GAA, a club for the “sporty” girls, but no interscholastic sports. The same was true when Carolyn attended Centralia HS – no Orphan Annies had she wished to play. Girls were limited to May Fete, a kind of dancing thing in white dresses around a May Pole. 

When forced indoors, my Tigers practiced in the “Girls Gym” (the one with the warped floor and no locker rooms and bleachers right next to the sidelines). One year I got permission to order new uniforms for the girls; the local sporting goods store ordered men’s slow pitch sleeveless uniforms. The huge (really huge, gigantic, biggest ever) arm slots were embarrassing. We rejected them and reordered from a company that specialized in women’s sports and equipment. 

In 1994 when it came time to select the St. Louis Post-Dispatch Scholar Athlete, there were two eminently worthy, 3-sport choices, ranked one and two in the class (only a B in one class separated them). Originally the coaching staff and administration picked the male candidate. “Obviously it’s --------------.” I dissented (not an uncommon position for me), despite the respect I had for the male candidate. “Ummm, [the female candidate] has a D-I scholarship offer and also played three sports, all at an exceptional level. This award is for an exceptional athlete who is also a (and in this case, also exceptional) scholar. Had the male had this resume, then it would be obvious. To my view, the choice is clear.” To the credit of the Athletic Director and others on the coaching staff, we rethought our choice and Hancock nominated the (IMO) most worthy candidate (of two almost equally worthy students).

Note, we had had previous female scholar athletes, so this is not intended as any kind of criticism of the coaching staff, administration, or process. In this case, however, the seeming tie at first went to the male, “obviously.”

My real point is this. Women’s sports did not progress because of the generosity of their male counterparts or because they recognized the long-standing inequality or sexism. Women’s sports and athletes progressed because people, mostly women, recognized their importance and worked and fought to create tools to elevate that status. When you were cheering the incredible accomplishments of the female athletes in Rio, you were also, like it or not, cheering for Title IX. Yes, that same Title IX that was decried, derided and disrespected by conservatives.

Those same conservatives also opposed (in their time, of course) declaring independence in 1775-76, the ratification of the Constitution in 1789, abolition in the mid 1800s, women’s suffrage in the 19^th and early 20^th centuries, integration of the armed forces in the 1940s and 50s, civil rights for African-Americans in the 1950s and 1960s, women’s rights (including Title IX) in the 70s and 80s, gay rights at the end of the 20^th century and beginning of the 21^st.... 

I understand that change is scary, that people want to keep the things the way they were. And conservatives play a vital role, forcing those who would rush, without sufficient thought, into change, because, The.Law.Of.Unintended.Consequences.  But (and I’ve never had anyone offer any kind of counterpoint, coherent or otherwise) conservatives have been on the wrong side of history for centuries. [Addendum: to be fair – I hate that – conservatives probably DO get credit for the Bill of Rights, but that was before compromise was a dirty word.] I’ve noted my disinclination and skepticism about labels, so I’m not claiming any particular one for myself, but I could never be a conservative (unless we’re talking about the environment, which I definitely want to conserve, and, ironically, some so-called conservatives seem to discount).

Trying to Teach Pigs to Sing

OR Why I Haven’t Been Writing

Regular readers and followers have probably noticed that I’ve been on an extended hiatus from this blog, as well as my others. 

The softball blog will actually pick up as we start to move into that season (really it’s already begun), but that’s a specialized project for a limited audience. I may also revisit my Hancock blog from time to time, but I need to generate more positive feelings for even that to happen.

You might wonder why. Or you might not care, but I’m going to share my reasons anyway. Actually, that’s not completely true. I have started several pieces, all of which sit as drafts, awaiting motivation to polish and publish. Others are percolating in my brain, as it drifts from one dark cloud to the next.

The fact is, that for some time now I have been consistently too depressed about the state of political and world affairs to add my thoughts to the increasing cacophony of certitude pervading social media. Maybe I should just give up Facebook, where people actually cheered the entrance of Donald Trump into the presidential race. That is just one of the thread topics I don’t add on to, because it wouldn’t do any good. I mean, if you take that bombastic buffoon seriously, what could I possibly say that would make you think (differently).

Now we have the posts about Charleston. Apparently there were insufficient victims victims to make some people consider that this tragedy is symptomatic of a problem worth solving, or worth at least discussing solutions. Even worse, many of those same people so resistant to recognizing that there IS a problem and that we need to actively search for a solution have also regularly offered posts suggesting that we have solved the problem of racism in this country, that racism is no more than an excuse for a lack of success.

I refuse to swim in those threads either. What would be the point? People with that mindset truly have set minds. Progress is impossible without change, and those who cannot change their mind cannot change anything. — George Bernard Shaw

I remember a button we peddled back in the day to raise money for political candidates; of course, that was before we had solved sexism and sex discrimination, like we’ve solved racism. The button read: Don’t try to teach a pig to sing. It wastes your time and annoys the pig.

Sales were brisk, but back in those younger, still idealistic days, I confess that I nevertheless DID keep trying to teach pigs to sing. Today, as I read the proud displays of ignorance on Facebook and elsewhere, I realize that I also did, indeed, waste my time and (probably) annoy the pigs.

For any number of reasons, I have narrowed my focus. The most important reason? I have a granddaughter (thus the Fathers Day hook for this piece) for whom I would throw myself in front of a train. She is my focus now. Because she will need her family and would be negatively impacted by the loss of any of those people who are, and will continue to be, her safety net, I will do whatever I can for them, as well. Not that this represents any sacrifice on my part, because I also love them.

But I’m done trying to teach pigs to sing, so don’t expect a whole lot of new content from this space, at least until I become less disheartened. I don’t know when that will be. I may be sporadically and randomly inspired to throw in a thought or two, but only if it doesn’t take away from the (increasingly limited) energy that I’m saving for one little girl.