Tom Buchanan and the Modern GOP

Something struck me these past few weeks watching the political circus we have somehow found ourselves in: I've read this before.

In the 1920s when F. Scott Fitzgerald was writing The Great Gatsby, the United States was being turned upside down. On one hand we had unprecedented wealth and opportunity for a large number of people; on the other, a horrific rise in racism and xenophobia in response to increased immigration and small advancements for African-Americans during the Harlem Renaissance and the Great Migration.

This darker side of America is encapsulated in Fitzgerald's character of Tom Buchanan. Tom, the rich polo player who has never had to work for anything in his life, nevertheless laments the way he sees America heading:

      "Civilization's going to pieces," broke out Tom violently. "I've gotten to be a terrible pessimist about things. Have you read 'The Rise of the Colored Empires' by this man Goddard?"

      "Why, no," I [Nick] answered, rather surprised by his tone. 

     "Well, it's a fine book, and everybody ought to read it. The idea is if we don't look out the white race will be--will be utterly submerged. It's all scientific stuff; it's been proved." [. . .] "--And we've produced all the things that go to make civilization--oh, science and art, and all that. Do you see?" (12-13).

Tom sees the "other" as threatening his way of life, his rich white male privilege. For him, that hatred doesn't just extend to immigrants and people of color, it also extends to anyone whom he sees as being "beneath" him. Tom ultimately destroys lives, mirroring the very real violence that happened to people who dared strive for a dream that others deemed exclusively for the white elites.

Flash forward to the 2016 Republican Convention:

"I ask you to go back through history and figure out, where have these contributions been made by these other categories of people that you're talking about. Where did any other subgroup of people contribute more to civilization?"

This time, we're not listening to a fictional character, but Congressman Steve King (R-IA) speaking to Chris Hayes on live television. Tom Buchanan has been reincarnated, but hasn't learned anything. Not long before this, David Duke, the former KKK Grand Dragon, announced that he was going to be running for senator because Donald Trump agreed with many of his ideals and made those ideals "acceptable."  If these two were the lone voices bemoaning the state of America, no one would think anything of it. But they're not. As a matter of fact, they're indicative of a much larger racist and xenophobic faction in the GOP (and the United States at large) being spurred on by the Republican Presidential nominee. If you don't believe me, just watch this (warning: graphic language and violence). And that's just a small portion on the vitriol being spewed toward anyone who doesn't agree with Trump's vision of "making America great again". 

The GOP has turned Tom Buchanan into their poster child, willingly or not. We're not supposed to root for Tom, though: he destroys all the lives he comes in contact with and walks away unscathed. He's the dark side of America, the side we are supposed to be continually striving against, not give in to. 

There is another option, though. Even if Gatsby is far from perfect, even if he has lied to get to where he is, everything his does, albeit imperfectly, is for a better life, that vision of the American Dream that dances in front of all of our faces. He pushes back against Tom Buchanan and his elitism because he knows Tom for what he is. 

We all want more for ourselves and those we love, regardless of where we come from. And we have a very clear choice to make as voters. We can give in to hatred and bigotry and allow Tom Buchanan to win once again. Or, we can refuse to let his hatred define who we are and reach out for something better, even if it isn't completely perfect. In the end, isn't that green light ultimately worth fighting for? 

Photo Credit: me

*Quote taken from the 2004 Scribner Paperback Edition of The Great Gatsby.

The Personal IS Political

Note: A friend of mine posted on Facebook recently that he is going to start deleting friends who post political things on the site. While his decision was based on the hatred that is obviously spilled on social media, and often surrounds posts of a political nature, I feel as if he is a bit misguided in his belief that such sites should only contain personal information, and not one's political views. While I'm not sure I haven't been deleted yet (I do post a lot of political things on my Facebook and Twitter pages, as well as on here), I offer this to him, and to anyone else who thinks that pictures of children and cat videos are the only thing that have a place on social media: 



The personal IS political. Everything that we discuss politically happens because it affects a human being. Even if it's not personal to you, even if you wish people would just shut up about a topic, doesn't mean it isn't a very real, very important topic to someone else. 

Welfare

Reproductive Justice

Veterans' Benefits

Education

War

Black Lives Matter 

Health Care

Behind each of these issues, and hundreds more, there are living, breathing human beings involved. Personally involved. They aren't abstract ideas or issues. The issues ARE the people: their lives, their families, even their deaths. 

So before simply saying "I don't care about politics." Or, "I'm so tired of hearing about this issue," put yourself in someone else's shoes, someone who is directly affected by the issue you're bored of or that you think doesn't matter, and consider how they feel when you dismiss their circumstances.  

 And yes, keep the hate out of it. We all have to share this planet, as imperfect as we've made Her. Compassion and empathy are essential, and will go much farther than vile words and hatred.  

Why "Terrorism" Doesn't Scare Me

Yesterday, 16 people were shot at a playground here after a second line parade.

Since yesterday morning (Nov. 22, 2015), 13 people in the United States have been shot and killed in gun-related violence. 54 people in that same time period, including yesterday's 16, were injured by guns.

Three women are killed by their partners every day.

In the last decade, over 320, 000 Americans have been killed by gun violence in the United States.

There have been just over 300 Americans killed in what we call terror attacks in the last decade.


I am not worried about Syrian refugees coming to this country, trying to escape the terror and violence in their homeland. Refugees who, under the current law, have to wait 18 months before they can enter this country because of all the background checks and interviews they have to undergo.

We're a bigger danger to ourselves than they are.

I'm much more worried about white males with delusions of white supremacy shooting up movie theaters, or schools, or churches, or blowing up federal buildings.

Not women and children.

You can call me naive, or a bleeding heart, or unAmerican. I don't think it's naive to believe the best in people, and it's VERY American to help those in need.

We have to stop the culture of fear and hate in this country and realize who the true enemies are.

Sometimes, that means looking in the mirror.

Reflection

I had to take the past few days off. Things have gotten so crazy in the world, culminating with the hateful rhetoric from some Republicans and citizens in this country, that I was at a loss.

I honestly don't know what to say any more. I feel as if I'm repeating myself every day, telling people to be kind to each other, to stop the culture of fear and hate we seem to be spiraling in. And this fear and hate is in every aspect of our society--women's rights, LGBTQIA rights, religion, race; the list goes on and on.

What has brought us to this point where people find it so easy to hate each other?

I'm not naive to think that things have ever been perfect; in fact, in a lot of areas, things have never been great, except to whites looking on. But it seems so common place to find posts and news reports filled with some of the most despicable. I've actually lost a lot of respect for some people I've known for a long time.

I have no problem with open discussions. I have no problems with differing opinions. Some of my nearest and dearest are on the opposite side of a lot of issues from me. But when you start talking about hating another group of people, about refusing to help others in desperate need, about rounding people up in camps and making them wear identification, and closing down places of worship and you see absolutely nothing wrong in that? (And you call yourself a Christian?!?) When you refuse to talk about gun control when white males commit most of the mass murders in this country, and yet you're refuse to help people fleeing from annihilation because they "might" commit acts of terror? And accuse my loved ones of treason because they refuse to engage in fear-mongering and hate?

Those are not the type of people I want in my life. Or in my country, quite frankly. Those words go against everything we should stand for as Americans, as imperfect as we are.

Once again

It doesn't take much to make me an emotional wreck.

That may seem really cheesy to say, but it's true. When disaster strikes, I am only able to absorb the news/social media/conversations, etc., for a limited amount of time before I have to crawl into my shell and regroup. 

At the same time, I know I am extremely lucky and privileged to be able to do that. So many people in the world, and in this country, can't shut off disaster, because it is with them every day, every year. They are living it, physically, or are scarred by it mentally. I can sit in my house and sympathize, and then retreat to heal myself, because I have that advantage. 

It's not enough. 

I listen, trying to understand the other person's perspective, knowing full well I can never truly comprehend their situation. 

I read, educating myself on history, culture, micro-aggressions, violence, racism, so that I can speak more intelligently on subjects when discussing them, especially with other white people. 

I want to do more. So I keep trying. Keep empathizing. Keep reading. Keep listening. 

What I don't understand is how people don't try. How they can see children suffering in the streets, sleeping outside, haunted by bullets and death, and how they say, "Not my problem." "Not here." 

We have a lot of problems in this country, yes. But we've always told ourselves we had hearts big enough for others as well. I just wish more people would actually live by the words they say they believe in. 

Sending prayers, comfort, and love to the victims in Nigeria today. I only wish they would receive the same attention as their counterparts in Paris. 

Selective Hearing

We hear the cries
from France
News cycles devoted
to tragedy,
to the lives lost,
to the terrorists who
invaded our quiet lives
again.

We change our pictures to
red white blue
Vow solidarity
Forgetting about
"freedom fries"
at least, for now.

The world coming
together,
United against hate.
It's a beautiful thing
to see.

But where is our unity
for Beirut?
for Iraq?
for Syria?
for Kenya?
Hundreds of voices
silenced each day,
but no flags fly in those colors
across our profiles.

The news
mentions those tragedies
then moves on,
to other
"more important"
stories.

Where is our union
against the hundreds of lives lost
here
in this country
to violence
every week?

What makes a country worthy
of having the news
devoted to those lost?

What makes a life worthy
of such attention?

How do we choose who to mourn?

Why do we choose who to mourn?

Rabbit Hole #24: The Be a Good Human Tag

Several months ago, the amazing Jen Campbell, author of Weird Things Customers Say in Bookshops (or Bookstores, if you have the American version, because apparently we wouldn't know what a bookshop was? Silly publishers) posted a BookTube video called the Be a Good Human Tag. In it, she showcased several books she felt make people open their eyes to the world around them and understand the humanity around us.

Books have the ability to change the way we look at people. They allow us to empathize with those who are different from us, learn about other cultures, understand history, and so much more. No other medium quite has the same effect.

So in the wake of everything that has been happening in the United States and around the world this past year (and of course, much longer), I thought I would create my own list. In no particular order, I present a snapshot of the following:

Nine Lives by David Baum: This is a nonfiction book chronicling the lives of nine New Orleanians from Hurricane Betsy through Hurricane Katrina. The individuals come from all walks of life: rich, poor, black, white, gay, and straight. They all cope with the tragedies in different ways, but they are all transformed by what happens. For those who don't truly know what happened here during the storm, this will open your eyes.

Citizen by Claudia Rankine: Part poetry, part essay, part photographic essay, this is a fierce look at race relations in America today. Rankine pulls no punches with this one, but this is not a topic we should shy away from. A must read for anyone who cares about our country today.

The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver: A beautifully written book about the negative impact of colonialism, this also tackles the dangers of trying to impose one's beliefs on others. Told through the perspectives of four young women and their mother as they are carted off to the Congo in the 1950s by their zealot missionary father, Kingsolver tackles American foreign policy, gender issues, religion, and a host of other topics.

Native Son by Richard Wright: The oldest book on this list, but still a necessary one, Wright's dark tale of Bigger Thomas, a young black man trapped by economic circumstances, resonates even today. Some people like to believe that all one has to do is work hard, and he'll get ahead; Wright shows that there are larger forces working against people in America, and against minorities in particular.

March Vols. 1-2 by Rep. John Lewis: One of the best graphic novel series I've read, this is Rep. Lewis' autobiography of his time in the Civil Rights Movement. While it's useful as a history, it's also insightful into what is going on today as we continue to tackle racial discrimination in this country. The more things change...

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Saénz: The story of two young Hispanic boys growing up and discovering their sexuality, this YA novel is heartbreaking as well as beautiful. I think my favorite part of this novel is the way the parents are portrayed; they are fierce and loving, regardless of who their boys are.

Whistling Vivaldi by Claude M. Steele: This book is an in-depth look at stereotypes and how they affect each and every one of us on a daily basis. It's a thorough analysis of microaggressions, and how/why they are so hard to overcome.

A Constellation of Vital Phenomena by Anthony Marra: This is a gut-wrenching book about the horrors of war, both for the people directly involved and those on the fringes. It takes place in Chechnya in 2004, where war is still tearing people's lives apart. Americans as a whole have very little knowledge of what it is like to live in a war-torn country and have no idea what they would have to do to survive.

Zami: A New Spelling of My Name by Audre Lorde: This is Lorde's autobiography of growing up poor, black and gay, and an ode to all of the women who shaped her into the person she became. This is one of the most powerful autobiographies I've read.

Reading Lolita in Tehran by Azar Nafisi: Nafisi created a book club for women in Tehran, Iran, to expose them to Western classics. While that may not seem like much, one has to realize that Western books had been banned, and the women were literally taking their lives in their hands to read and attend these sessions. Part book discussion, part memoir, the books and these women's lives intertwine and show just how powerful literature is.

The Book of Unknown Americans by Cristina Henríquez: I want to give this book to every person I hear disparaging immigrants--they seem to forget that these are human beings, with families and circumstances not that different from our own. The novel follows several families from Mexico and Latin America as they try to find a life in America. Some are undocumented, some have work visas, some are citizens, but all have very particular reasons for their journeys.


I could continue on and on with this list, and I know I didn't do these books justice. Please, just take some time to read. Be willing to step outside your comfort zone and learn about other peoples, places, religions, cultures, etc. The worst thing that will happen is that you'll expand your mind and learn that all humans are struggling, and we are better together.

Numb

Tonight, like most of the world, I'm numb. I've been glued to the news, listening to the latest devastating reports out of Paris, and this just a day after the terrible bombings in Beirut.

Another senseless attack.

More people killed.

More people using the incident to advance their xenophobic and racist agendas.


How much more hatred and bloodshed will we tolerate as a global society?

Why is it so easy for us to hate someone who is different from us?

Why do we feel the need to silence others?


Why is it so impossible to come up with answers?

Why do we keep hitting repeat?


Why?

Try empathy.

Why is it so hard to have empathy?

The following are some statements heard every day in this country:

All immigrants are illegals. 

All Muslims are terrorists. 

Gay people just want to turn everyone gay. 

People on welfare or minimum wage just need to work harder. 

If you're homeless, you're an alcoholic or a junkie. 

Black people don't care about family. 

And the list goes on and on....

We're all guilty of it. We say things, or assume things, about people every day, and never realize the negative atmosphere we are contributing to. 

We spend so much time demonizing others that we never step back and try to see things from their perspective. Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie has an amazing TED Talk about the dangers of just seeing people from one lens, about insisting that each person has a single story about him or herself. When we refuse to see a person as a sum of their parts, and insist that we "know" about them because of one aspect of who they are, we are denying them their humanity.

This lack of empathy is at the root of all of our problems as a country, and as a world.

We're so focused on the sound bite, the snapshot, that we forget to truly see people for who they are, and it makes us that much poorer for it.

It takes so little to listen to people.

Just. Listen.

Hey, America? I'm tired.

I'm tired.

I'm tired of seeing strong, intelligent women being lam-blasted on social media when they speak out against misogyny and other forms of discrimination. That these attacks devolve so quickly into rape and death threats is shocking, and the fact that so many people shrug them off as "just words" proves how far we still have to go to treat women as equals in this country.

I'm tired of men sitting in positions of power dictating--STILL--what women can and cannot do with their reproductive health. 

I'm tired of becoming numb to the number of shootings in our country. There are approximately 200 shootings in the United States each day (including non-fatal incidents and suicides). We barely react. But 17 people are killed over a cartoon in another country, and it obsesses our nation for weeks. 

I'm tired of reading about young, unarmed black men being killed by those who are supposed to bring people to justice. White men can go on killing sprees, including killing police officers, and be brought in--living--to face their day in court. Black men (and women) don't usually have that luxury. And now, the FBI is investigating a death in Mississippi--a black man found hanging from a tree. We seem to have rewound the clock to the 1950s, and it's terrifying. As a white woman, it's terrifying. As a black person today, I can't even imagine.  

I'm tired of people assuming those receiving types government assistance are lazy, good for nothing bums who just need to get a job, when so many of those needing assistance are members of our military or people who are working two and three jobs with families and STILL can't make ends meet because minimum wage is a joke. 

I'm tired of Christians introducing hateful, discriminatory laws toward LGBTQ individuals that are beginning to hearken back to Jim Crow-like ideology. I don't care if you say it's for "religious" reasons: if you say you refuse service to someone because of who they are, and you want to post signs saying you won't serve a certain type of person, you're a bigot. The Bible was used to enforce and justify slavery and Jim Crow and the subjugation of women as well.

And, yes, I know...

#notallcops

#notallmen

#notallgunowners

#notallwhitepeople

#notallChristians

Et cetera, et cetera. 

But if even one person in a group is committing these types of discrimination and hatred, the rest of the group has a responsibility to step up and change things. 

I'm tired of a lot of other things--too many to count, really. Being tired doesn't mean stop fighting, though; it just means there's still work to be done, by all of us. Because if we truly believe in American values, we need to start acting like it. 

God is not Oprah

It's been quiet here on the blog the past couple of months. The beginning of the school year always hits me like an avalanche--even though I've done this for years, the first weeks of lesson planning and meetings and grading just find me trying to find a few moments for myself. I've had a lot of posts floating around in my brain, but haven't had time to sit down to write.

And then this popped up in my Facebook feed this morning: "If God wants you to get Ebola, you will."

Excuse me?

God's not Oprah. He's not sitting in heaven, looking down at humanity, pointing his finger and saying with glee, "You get Ebola, and you get Ebola, and YOU get Ebola. EVERYBODY gets Ebola!!!"

Ebola's an infectious disease. It doesn't care if you are rich, poor, middle class, black, white, Asian, Christian, Jewish, atheist, Muslim, Jedi, or an adherent of the Flying Spaghetti Monster. Neither does cancer. Or AIDS. Or the flu.

God's not punishing people because they're the wrong color or wrong gender or sexual orientation or wrong religion or don't pray hard enough. Disease can happen to anyone, at any time. Period.

Ebola's not new. It's been ravaging countries in Africa for years; most people in the U. S. just haven't been paying attention because it was "over there," happening "to them." Drug companies, which have the capability of curing or at least slowing the disease, also haven't been rushing to make meds because there really had been no profit in it for them. Until now. When the possibility of a few people in the United States and rest of the Western world contracting the disease is at hand. Suddenly, they're rushing to create a supply of drugs, which will still take months. To top it all off, you also have some politicians advocating for the extermination of anyone who has ebola. See Todd Kincannon.

I have a feeling that God is more likely up in heaven saying, have compassion on one another, and help each other.

We destroy each other easily enough as it is.

"We're all mad here..."

Over the past several weeks, the Chesire Cat's words have been repeating over and over in my head. It truly seems as if the world has gone crazy. The Supreme Court's nonsensical ruling in the Hobby Lobby case. The shooting down of the Malaysian airliner in Ukraine. The devastating ongoing conflict between Israel and Palestine. The daily reports of gun violence in the U. S. The frightening increase in violent misogynistic attacks on women. The list goes on and on.  Most days, I just want to crawl back under the covers and hide. I want to be done with humanity.

And apparently I'm not the only one. A couple of days ago, author Neil Gaiman posted this on Twitter:

Feeling absolutely helpless in the face of the madness and violence of the world. I'm making things up to keep sane. I'm in control there.
— Neil Gaiman (@neilhimself) July 24, 2014

As Gaiman is doing, we each need to find our way to stay sane in the face of madness.  I'm lucky to have a network of friends and family around me to keep me grounded and pull me out the muck when I'm sinking.

However, at the same time, we also have to confront the madness. I read; I stay informed; I try to do little things to make a change in my immediate surroundings. It's not easy. Hatred has deep roots, and, like most weeds, doesn't go away the first time you pull it up. Often it comes back with a vengeance. But if we give up, say what's happening elsewhere doesn't affect us, we allow those weeds to flourish. We are all part of humanity. We are all responsible for what happens. We have to speak up. We don't have to change the world by ourselves. But if we can affect just one person's life for the better, we're on the right path.