Love Ye Therefore the Stranger: The Night Kingston, NY Became a Sanctuary City

ON TUESDAY January 10th, the Common Council in my city of Kingston, NY met to vote on Mayor Steve Noble’s resolution to reaffirm “Kingston as a welcoming and inclusive city.” To me, it seemed a modest goal. A “sanctuary city” limits the role of local police in enforcing federal immigration law, exercising its right not to expend local resources to aid Federal Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). In a sanctuary or welcoming city, the municipality recognizes that all people deserve the same basic protections under the law, regardless of perceived immigration status. A welcoming city’s police department does not inquire about anyone’s immigration status as a matter of course.

A January 1 poll on HudsonValleyOne.com (the news website of Ulster Publishing), showed that only 51% appeared to favor this humane and commonsense measure. The day before the vote, I called my Alderman, Reynolds Scott-Childress, to confirm that, as reported by local news outlets, he planned to vote for the resolution. He did. He also reminded me that before the vote, there would be an opportunity for public commentary and that speaking up could be helpful, as he believed some aldermen had not yet made up their minds.

photo: Robert Burke Warren

photo: Robert Burke Warren

I vote in every election — city, state, and national — and I’ve made phone calls and knocked on doors to support candidates. Yet my previous encounters with local government had involved driver’s licenses, my marriage license, and reporting for jury duty. I’d never been in the council chambers before. On that Tuesday night, as I drove to City Hall, I passed about 150 people (organized by Citizen Action) marching up Broadway on their way to the meeting, chanting “Love, not hate, makes America great.” I honked and waved in support. Inside, the council chambers were already full, every seat taken, so when the marchers arrived they had to crowd in. When the Fire Marshall expressed concern that exits were blocked, some of them went to stand behind our aldermen, in the grand space between their desks and the Alderman at Large’s.

What brought me to this meeting was, in some respects, a series of random happenstances. My husband and I moved here from Brooklyn ten years ago, buying a house in uptown Kingston because it was less expensive than renting across the river, nearer my then-job at Bard. It also seemed to offer an easygoing sense of diversity. In Poughkeepsie, the Robert Moses highway cuts off an impoverished, majority-black neighborhood from essential services and more middle-class, majority-white neighborhoods. But in uptown Kingston, multi-unit dwellings stand alongside single-family homes. Wander around on a warm spring day and you’ll see racially diverse groups sitting out on porches, talking.

Our eight year old now attends George Washington Elementary around the corner, where about a third of the students are white, a third black, and a third Latinx — from working, middle, and upper-middle class backgrounds, some US-born, others immigrants. In the summers, he attends camp at the Forsyth Nature Center, an oasis in a public park. The program’s director is Julie Noble, whom he idolizes — and her husband is now the mayor. So we know him, if slightly — he used to lead kayaking trips on the Hudson River — and perhaps that has made me more alert to issues here. Or perhaps, as so many people are discovering right now, I am more ready to act locally when national and global chaos loom. Mayor Noble’s “welcoming and inclusive city” measure seemed like such an easy, non-binding way to affirm that we welcome people here, regardless of their background or legal status; a simple way to stand our ground against kleptocracy and divisiveness.

This is why I was shocked to see how many of my neighbors opposed the measure, in conversations on the street and on Facebook; and why, at the meeting that night, I was still surprised to see how vehement that opposition was. According to the Kingston Daily Freeman, thirty-seven people spoke up in public comments to support the measure and only seventeen to oppose. My experience was that those in opposition were angrier, and seemed to take up more space in the room as a consequence.

They also made little sense. One speaker compared immigrants in our community to an out-of-control feral cat colony. Another asked why we were considering this resolution when we can’t even get our snow plowed, then used well more than his allotted two minutes to bellow about how his street never gets plowed. (For the record, snow plowing and trash removal are both pretty efficient in this town.) A neighbor of ours who tends to an actual feral cat colony said that her family has been prominent here for more than a hundred years, then said straight up that she doesn’t want “EEEElegals” in her town. A number of people quoted their Christian faith as forcing them to oppose the measure, in flagrant disregard of Jesus’ radical antiauthoritarianism and of Deuteronomy 10:19 (quoted by two speakers in favor of the resolution): “Love ye therefore the stranger; for ye were strangers in the land of Egypt.”

Photo: Robert Burke Warren

Photo: Robert Burke Warren

A common thread in the opposition was a misinterpretation of how the term “sanctuary city” would change policing. Kingston City Police Chief Edigio Tinti is on record as saying that the resolution would not change his department’s practices. Though police forces all over the country have a long way to go in eradicating prejudice and avoiding profiling, I applaud his department for affirming their commitment to serve all Kingstonians. When people trust that their first responders will not inquire unnecessarily into immigration status, people of all statuses can freely seek help and report crimes. Imagine the situation of an undocumented person who is mugged or raped. In some cities, that person might hesitate to report the crime and get needed medical and legal help out of fear of deportation—and the perpetrator of the crime might remain at large to harm others. Sanctuary policies may actually enhance law enforcement’s ability to investigate crimes effectively.

And because a welcoming city chooses not to use its local resources to enforce federal immigration law, that city saves money. Your federal tax dollars should go to fund federal issues. Your local tax money is having a hard enough time paying for road maintenance and the public schools.

One argument I heard against the “welcoming and inclusive city” measure at the meeting came from a guy in a MAGA hat, who said he didn’t want Kingston to start attracting undocumented immigrants; he thought the measure would make the undocumented flock here. I’ve encountered this argument on Facebook too. People who continue to make it don’t seem to understand that “sanctuary” is not synonymous with “magnet” and doesn’t imply “free handouts.” Since the resolution isn’t an offer of legal status, a secure job, or higher wages, it seems unlikely to attract undocumented people. It does, however, reaffirm our commitment to the safety of all of our residents. It also confers another important advantage: access to due process of law. Although the Constitution guarantees that if a person is arrested, her case will be handled according to due process, immigrants are one of the groups whose cases are most likely to be mishandled, whether because of a language barrier or because of bias within the legal system. Extending this fundamental human right to all Kingston’s people helps ensure everyone’s right to fair treatment in a court of law.

~

Although there will always be some who imagine that they get to decide when to shut America’s doors, that’s not the welcoming spirit of the country I believe in. It certainly isn’t why the lines “Give me your tired, your poor, / Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free” from Emma Lazarus’s “New Colossus” appear on the Statue of Liberty’s base. If you, like me, are a US-born citizen, there’s a fair chance you descend from immigrants who came to this country to escape persecution and/or make a better life (and likely faced some form of discrimination). Your ancestors may also have been brought here against their will as chattel, and survived to build a better life for you despite ongoing discrimination, personal and legal. The notion that earlier generations did it the “right way” while new immigrants are “lawbreakers” by the mere fact of their entry into the United States is misinformed and misleading. Our current immigration system simply does not afford the same opportunities for “legal” migration as in the past. The wealthy and those with sought-after skills have an easier time applying for permanent resident status or citizenship than do ordinary working people.

The night of the Common Council vote, Kingston heard testimony from Leonides Santos, a local restaurant owner who has sought to become legal since entering the United States in 1994. He has attended every immigration meeting, paid every fee; and was just informed the day of the meeting that he has thirty days to leave. Unless the collective outrage of this community can change an immigration judge’s mind, Leo will have to leave his thriving business and his thirteen-year-old American-born son behind. Like so many undocumented people, Leo is bound into a community, and his absence will leave a gaping hole if he gets deported. Leo is a kind neighbor and a responsible business owner; the mother of his son is an American citizen. Keeping families like his together is of paramount importance.

Yet some people (my cat-hoarding neighbor, for instance) whose families have been in the United States for a long time seemed to espouse these kinds of arguments against our “welcoming and inclusive city” resolution: If Kingston treats all of its immigrants without regard to their legal status, there won’t be enough services left for other people; if we treat immigrants fairly, they’ll come to steal jobs from hardworking people whose families have been here longer. But that’s zero-sum thinking, the idea that giving something to one person necessarily means taking it away from others. Though there are legitimate zero-sum situations in this world — if two families want to buy a game console and only one is left in the store, one family goes home happy and the other disappointed — human rights and civil liberties do not fall into this category. A society that grants rights and privileges to some but not all is unjust; and an unjust society is unsafe for all its members. Police and other first responders may need to be thoughtful in order to treat everyone with civility, but there is no financial cost for that kindness. Furthermore, here in Kingston, Leo is one of many immigrants who have begun successful businesses. He is helping a sleepy, Hudson Valley burg — whose economy has struggled since IBM pulled up stakes in the mid-1990s — become more economically robust. Research does show that increased immigration to cities leads to economic growth. Making Kingston more welcoming to immigrants could, despite zero-sum arguments, mean more jobs for local residents, because people like Leo, contrary to the myths, are often employers. As Lin-Manuel Miranda has Alexander Hamilton and the Marquis de Lafayette say in Hamilton: An American Musical, “Immigrants, we get the job done.” (I saw the play in late January. That line brought down the house.)

Immigrants, documented or otherwise, can live precarious lives. Business success stories such as Leo’s are not the only possible plot line. Migrants are disproportionately likely to live below the poverty line, suffer from food and housing insecurity, and have their labor exploited. The undocumented also pay taxes — income, sales, and property — without qualifying for any federal assistance programs. It’s our moral obligation to protect the most vulnerable of our neighbors. This ensures a peaceful, welcoming community for people of all socioeconomic statuses, orientations, races, and religions. In this way, rights and civil liberties function more like love than like game consoles. They are not limited in amount or number, but grow stronger the more we experience and share them.

I think about Deuteronomy 10:19 every year at Passover. The Haggadah reminds us not that our ancestors were slaves in Egypt, but that we were: that their suffering is ours; that suffering of the same kind still goes on all over the world today. We pause each year to give thanks for our freedom, but after the festival we need to get back to work until everyone is free.

~

Though this Common Council meeting took place only a few weeks ago, it also took place in another era: the Obama presidency. On January 10th, many of us still hoped that someone (the Supreme Court? President Obama, finally showing off his superpowers or at least giving Trump the marshmallow test, as Paul Noth’s New Yorker cartoon suggested?) would save us from the moral and political nightmare we are now living.

In the first weeks of the new presidency, Trump has already signed an executive order that flagrantly violates the First Amendment in blocking entry to the United States by people — including legal US residents — from seven majority-Muslim countries. He has not only appointed ex-Breitbart white supremacist/neo-Nazi Steve Bannon White House Chief Strategist, but has restructured the National Security Council to make a place for him there. These are perilous times for immigrants and refugees, even though, as I write this, a Federal Judge in Washington state has for all practical purposes overridden parts of the ban, and the White House’s first appeal was summarily rejected. Still, the country’s immigration policy is very much in play, and all of these lives hang in the balance.

Many — and unfortunately, this is an ever-broadening category — are in danger: those seeking residence and asylum right now, those here who haven’t yet attained legal status, those here with legal status, and perhaps even those whose families have been here for generations but who belong to minority groups against whom the President (or Bannon) discriminates.

Photo: Robert Burke Warren

Photo: Robert Burke Warren

A small, vocal minority in this country espouses the President’s xenophobic beliefs. The same is true here in Kingston. In the United States and in this city, people from widely diverse backgrounds generally treat one another with respect, just as I saw in passing the first time I drove through town. At George Washington Elementary, my son’s class is not only race and class diverse, but diverse across the axes of religion, family structure, and parental gender orientation too. I believe that spending his days with kids from diverse backgrounds, many different from his own, will help him to grow up to be the kind of person who understands that human rights are all humans’ rights—and that he has a duty to defend them. Another way to say this is that it will make him an American.

My aldermen passed the “welcoming and inclusive city” resolution with a 5-3 vote. (Usually, like the Supreme Court, we have nine voters, but one alderman was absent.) This is a win, not a mandate. Some Common Council members either held a more conservative, less tolerant view or bowed to pressure from the opposition, who loudly threatened to vote them out of office if they voted in favor. (The pro-welcoming city side didn’t make any threats, perhaps because it would have been so ironic if it had.)

Our municipal laws remain unchanged at this time. But the yes vote on the resolution may influence them going forward. We are one city among thousands, and one of many to have passed resolutions to become welcoming and inclusive. We—We the People—need more. If every municipality signs such a resolution, the United States can remain safe for immigrants, refugees, and perhaps even the rest of us, no matter the federal government’s policies.

Photo: Emily Barton

Photo: Emily Barton

If you, like me, feel more engaged politically than you ever have been before, then this is a straightforward task for your to-do list. If your city doesn’t have sanctuary or welcoming city policies on the books, call your mayor, call your city councilor. In my city of 25,000, only seventeen stood up at City Hall to speak against the resolution. I’d call that pretty good odds in favor of righteousness, civic order, and truth. I remain hopeful that you’ll find the same is true where you live, even as the national administration skews toward cynicism, plutocratic nihilism, and lies.

 

 

 

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The Week in Bad Poems: The Ballad of Trump and Putin

Our president is compromised,
An agent of Moscow.
How did all this come to pass?
Come, let me tell you how:

Trump had lousy FICO scores.
Bad credit. Funds were short.
So he borrowed from the Russian banks,
Lenders of last resort.

A hundred million dollars,
Maybe two, or maybe three.
(It’s written in his taxes,
Which he’ll never let us see).

In summer, Putin said to Trump,
“We’ll wipe that debt away,
If you lift these sanctions
When you win Election Day.”

And then he made an offer
That Trump could not refuse:
“We’ll forgive all that you owe,
EVEN IF YOU LOSE!”

Well, Trump was losing bigly,
And he had financial need.
Why not wipe out all that debt?
So Donald Trump agreed.

Then Putin sent his minions,
His hackers and his trolls.
(The GOP conspired by
Suppressing voter rolls).

And we all know what happened next.
Clinton lost! Trump won!
But winning meant that to his head
The Russians held a gun.

He’d have to lift the sanctions,
Or be subject to blackmail.
He’d have to lift the sanctions,
Or else Trump would go to jail.

He’s begun to lift the sanctions now!
He doesn’t have a choice.
(On the Putin phone call,
He did not record the voice.)

He’ll do whatever Putin says,
No matter how insane.
He’ll piss off all our allies,
He’ll let him take Ukraine.

He’ll do whatever Putin says,
For Trump has over-reached.
He’ll do whatever Putin says,
Until he is impeached.

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Participation Trophy Politics

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I’VE BEEN THINKING A lot—since the election and particularly during the past two weeks—about the cliché (typically, in personal experience, uttered by my right-leaning friends) involving our so-called “participation trophy” generation and how it’s making everyone so soft, and spoiled. You have to earn it, this complaint implies. You have to understand defeat to fully appreciate triumph. If you expect to get rewarded just for showing up, it cheapens it for everyone, et cetera.

There’s no shortage of context and counterarguments about how a win-at-all-costs mentality translates to society, or if emphasizing sportsmanship is the worst thing, or, finally, how in America we instinctively ignore the fact that all people don’t start from the same place, physically, mentally, economically. Marginalization has historically worked best when the people in positions of privilege don’t acknowledge or even imagine themselves as anything other than fair, objective and industrious folks.

Which brings us to Donald Trump.

I find myself at once dismayed, yet not at all surprised to behold the increasingly sorry spectacle of a newly-elected president—who has benefitted from virtually every advantage—endorsed by those he’s spent his life ignoring, ostracizing, swindling. (Never mind how this pathology of Americans voting against their best interests is a phenomenon that, to an extent, has always existed, but super-sized itself in recent years.) Here’s a candidate who undeniably had outside assistance (Russia, voter fraud, James Comey) to squeeze out the narrowest of “wins”, who is obsessed with approval, not understanding it must be earned, and who inexorably makes every occasion about himself (etc.). None of this is especially perplexing for anyone who’s paid attention over the last several decades. He was never an especially confident or competent man, but he played one on TV.

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(And despite the hysteria and hand-wringing that’s followed Hillary Clinton’s loss, the key takeaway seems clear: it’s not that she (or Democrats in general) don’t talk to working class Americans; it’s that she (and they) still don’t know how to. A lot more on that issue, here.)

As we enter a steadily surreal landscape of alternate facts, braindead braggadocio masquerading as foreign policy and daily dumpster fires that titillate social media but also provide cover for the shady shit going on behind the scenes, it’s painful to conclude that idiocy has found an unprecedented symbiosis: only the most eager to dissemble can consistently reach those most in need of being deceived. Donald Trump is not the president most of his voters actually need, but he’s the one a distressing number of them want.

Again, enough can never be said about the myriad ways Democrats (including, of course, Obama and his team) were either too haughty, impatient or sane to belabor how demonstrably beneficial the vast majority of their enacted policies have been. But have we reached a point where a black man providing affordable health care is literally less tolerable than a billion-dollar baby with a bad combover taking it away from them? Are we through the broken looking glass where a tenure without terror attacks on American soil (not counting our homegrown terrorists with unconstrained access to firearms, all of whom tend to skew fascist, I mean conservative) is less savory than an isolationist bellicosity cut with impetuousness and pig-ignorance? Are we, at long last, in an irony-free fantasy land where virtually all regulation (safe drinking water is such a liberal diversion), much of which has been a century or more in the making and inspired by avoidable calamities, is the real roadblock to collective prosperity?

I think, and fear, we are.

And that, more than fake news, bigotry and not-so-quiet desperation, may explain Trump’s atavistic appeal. The red hat brigade is definitely not safer, but they feel safer (they want to); their wages won’t increase but their Dear Leader promises we’ll get tired of winning so much; no immigrants are stealing their jobs, but finally they have a Bully-in-Chief who feels their perceived pain. It’s a new world order of rationalization instead of realization (emphasis on real); it’s participation trophy politics.

With the invaluable assistance of an alternately prurient and supine media, we’ve unleashed an orange genie who reinforces our most brutish instincts. In this less kind and gentle America, it’s those who talk toughest most in need of mollification (it begins at the top and tweets its way to the bottom), who require readymade villains and celebrate their victimhood, who need a Big Daddy to remind them they’re special, that no sacrifice is required on their part.

(Behold, with equal amounts of bemusement and disgust, the way our part-time custodians of culture are submitting themselves (spines and shame not required), excusing and/or overlooking this manifestly unqualified adolescent: a man who proudly declines to read books, or learn, or make efforts to be coached by anyone with insight and experience. A man born rich who refuses to play by any rules (where are those tax returns, genius?), a man whose callousness and incuriosity makes George W. Bush look like Ralph W. Emerson. Behold, with maximum disdain, the way these bought-and-sold bitches live to do the wet work for Big Business. These same frauds, who make themselves arbiters for morality and decency, are entirely enabling this ongoing disgrace, a man they loathe, a man they’d otherwise decry and avoid (#NeverTrump? The only problem with shaming people like this is that they require a sense of shame, and a soul, for it to matter). And make no mistake: it’s all in the name of lower taxes for the wealthiest percentile, as ever, as always.)

In The Donald’s America, everyone can live vicariously, eliminating doubt, self-discipline and consequences. All that’s required is the renunciation of cause-and-effect and Truth-with-a-Capital-T. The only losers are the saps who refuse to trust Trump’s lying eyes. The (White) House always wins, but everyone gets a trophy in this game.

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Reading Malcolm X in Texas

I CAN REMEMBER every moment of the day I first started wearing hijab. I can remember waking up early on my thirteenth birthday because I couldn’t contain the excitement I felt. I can remember the exact shade of the pink fabric, and the way it felt tighter than I had expected. I can remember my father’s smile, and the length of my mother’s hug. I can remember the slow morning drive through my hometown in Texas, and the way my parents asked me one last time before they dropped me off if I was sure this was what I wanted. I can remember the conviction of my answer. And, of course, I can also remember the fear. I can remember too the way my teachers would avoid eye contact with me, and I can remember how tentative my friends were when they asked if my parents had forced me into it, as if they were suddenly scared for me, or of me, or both. I can also remember how slowly, through stilted conversations and glares from passersby, I felt the world constrict around me. I can also remember how suddenly everything felt sharper: people’s voices, their smiles, and their comments. Nothing was friendly anymore. That day shaped me, and I remember all of it.

Afterwards, I isolated myself. I would spend hours at home, usually sitting by the bookshelves in my parents’ room while they were at work, picking up books that I was never able to read for more than a few minutes. None of them were right— they all felt foreign to me. The books my parents had bought for me were all wrong; they were all young adult novels about crushes and adventures and sneaking out, so unfamiliar to my own experience that I never finished one. The Pakistani books were wrong too, even though the characters were more like me in how they dressed and grew up, all of them worried about marriage or family ties or immense poverty, and this was just as alien. It wasn’t until months later, when I was going through the assortment of biographies my mother had bought to try and familiarize herself with American history, that I found a book unlike the others. It was The Autobiography of Malcolm X, and I remember running my fingers over its spine, intrigued by the unknown man on the cover. If all the other books I had picked up were foreign, Malcolm’s book was the first thing I read that felt native to my place in the world. I opened the pages, and what felt like minutes later, jumped at the sound of the doorbell chiming. It was the strangest experience to read something and lose all sense of time, but his book had a power that I had never experienced before. The story of an American Muslim was unique enough for me to hear, since all of the ones I had known were immigrants or disconnected from their faith, but Malcolm seemed to understand every facet of what that entailed, in a way my own friends and family couldn’t. He wrote about isolation, anger, frustration, fear, transformation, acceptance, self-love, and with every new idea he put forth I thought finally, someone understands.

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Perhaps most vividly, I remember a story in which Malcolm described his experience at a reform school where he was the only black student. He said his peers failed to understand him as a complete and multifaceted human being, and that “even though they appeared to open the door, it was still closed. Thus, they never did really see me.” I sat there, repeating those words to myself, and the next day when I was walking through the halls of my school, I thought of them again. I remember trying to make eye contact with students who would quickly avert their eyes, and Malcolm’s words popped up in my head. “They never did really see me.”

Maybe it’s strange, but the part I remember most is how unbelievably relieved I felt in that moment, with Malcolm’s words running through my mind. It was the first time I can remember thinking that all of this wasn’t my fault. All that time I had just wanted to be seen, not as the girl who wore the scarf on her head, but as a complete person, and Malcolm had reassured me that’s who I was. He reminded me that if people couldn’t see me for the person I really was, the problem was not my own, and it wasn’t up to me to fix it. With Malcolm’s words I found affirmation and reassurance, and I didn’t feel quite so alone.

The world was different back then. I was a thirteen year old living in Texas in 2010, my parents had lived in this country together for eleven years, and I only had access to Malcolm’s book because of my mother’s search for historical knowledge. My perspective changed quickly in that time, but it’s seven years later and my life isn’t the same. I’m a student at NYU and I know other people like me now, with dashes in their identity. I know Muslim-Americans, Pakistani-Americans, Egyptian-Americans, but, ultimately, all Americans. With them, I don’t feel so alone anymore. Yet, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t still scared. It’s hard not to be when I hear things like “Muslim registry” and “increased surveillance” and “go back to your own country.” So I still read Malcolm, and each time he helps me in unexpected ways.

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The first time I read Malcolm’s book he taught me I was not alone, but the second time I read it, he taught me how to work for change. His story could easily be one about victimhood, but it’s not. He doesn’t allow himself to fall victim to systems that constantly work against him when he is cheated out of a real education, sent to prison, harassed by police, and demeaned by almost all of society. Instead, his story is one about protesting, marching, and speaking out even when chances are slim. In no part is this more apparent than the end of the book, where he talks about his certainty that he will die soon. He doesn’t express any fear or anger over it, he simply says “I know that societies have often killed the people who have helped to change those societies. And if I can die having brought any light, having exposed any meaningful truth …then, all of the credit is due to Allah. Only the mistakes have been mine.” This is how Malcolm fought: without any fear, and to the end, and I hope he has taught me to speak out on behalf of the marginalized in the same way. Of course, it could be trivial to compare what I go through to what he went through. I have no idea what it is like to be ripped away from your mother as a child, and to have your father killed by racists. Or the horror of living in prison, and being forced into solitary confinement for daring to disagree with someone. I also will never know what it is like to receive constant death threats, or to be personally harassed by the leaders who are supposed to represent you. The defining moments in his life are not similar to mine, and they are things I can only imagine. But sometimes, I also imagine those smaller moments, and wonder if they were, in fact, like mine. I think about him standing backstage before he went forward to speak, and wonder how he prepared himself. I think about what went through his head when he marched and protested, and whether it was like anything that goes through mine. When I find myself in places where I also need to protest for what I believe in, I think about the courage he would need to draw on in those moments, and I try to draw some for myself as well.

Malcolm X waiting for a press conference to begin on March 26, 1964

Malcolm X waiting for a press conference to begin on March 26, 1964

That courage can elude me. Like, the day after the election. I felt so fatigued, I didn’t want to do anything. I didn’t want to march with my friends, or go to community events, or turn on the news. I just felt tired, numb. I wanted very badly to go home and see my family again, and to sit once more by the bookshelves in my parents’ room to waste hours there. But I wasn’t at home, I was in my dorm, and I didn’t have that option. So I lay in my bed, and downloaded Malcolm’s book onto my phone in an effort to remember what it was like to feel angry, or optimistic, or something. I skipped to the last chapter—it has always been my favorite. It’s when Malcolm stops telling his story in the past tense, and he switches to the present, and eventually the future. He speaks about how his time in Mecca changed him, how enlightened he feels now, and how hopeful he is for his new organization. He writes candidly about his impending death: “I know that societies have often killed the people who have helped to change those societies,” but I cannot help but feel angry when I think about the unfairness of his murder. I know he would discourage this kind of emotional thinking, but I think about it anyway. Rereading Malcolm’s book for this third time helped me realize something I had forgotten in my own search for acceptance and passion. His writing is a place to find tolerance and encouragement, but it also isn’t kind or gentle. More than anything too, he detests complacency. He doesn’t hold back in his fights, and he expects the same from you.

I see Malcolm constantly now. Last weekend, I was protesting the detainment of immigrants at JFK airport, and there was a moment where I thought of Malcolm once more. A lawyer announced to the crowd that a federal judge had granted the people already here the right to stay, and the excitement swelled. Yet, all I could think about when everyone was cheering was that this didn’t magically reverse the policy, and that there was so much more injustice to overcome. I thought about how Malcolm understood the sense of complacency that small victories create, and how he would push forward even when people didn’t understand that there was still work to be done. I don’t know what the future holds in this case, and I can’t say that looking to Malcolm’s words makes me feel like everything will be okay, because I don’t know that it will. But I wouldn’t be the person I am now, protesting for what I believe in, without him. I owe him the knowledge, courage, and even the little bit of hope that I have today, and I can’t really ask for much more.

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We Can Fight Lies with Facts…Until They Take the Internet Away

One of the most frightening things I can imagine is a world where the only news and information we have access to is created and distributed by the Trump administration. This is essentially what will happen should they succeed in closing down the Internet. I’m wondering how long we have until they try.

“Naw,” you might say. “They would never be so bold!”

But I’m here to tell you with 100% certainty that they will try—the only question is when.

They have the means (the new FCC head recently said that net neutrality’s days were numbered, though they could always use some form of martial law as an excuse and sidestep FCC regulations).

And they clearly have the motive (as in, the desire to tell us whatever they want us to hear and the desire to squash all other conflicting points of view—including facts).

They are already lying to us in the direct face of photographic evidence, such as when White House press secretary Spicer claimed and then reaffirmed that Trump’s inauguration crowd was the largest ever.

It would be a boon to their agenda if they could just do away with conflicting reports and photos. It’s so difficult to tell the public lies when the masses have access to so many facts!

They want to be able to say things like “Climate change is a hoax,” without any voices to disagree with them. And they’re quickly muzzling those voices, such as when they instructed the EPA to remove climate change data and content from their website. They also told the EPA to not talk to the media anymore. The EPA’s voice has been quieted.

Oh, and also the USDA. Similar gag orders have been sent out to other government agencies, and even the National Parks Service has been censored for posting factual information that conflicted with the party line.

Meanwhile, in addition to limiting our access to the research and information that our taxes help pay for, the GOP is taking advantage of the BIG BROTHER-fueled fervor to make it more illegal to protest. At my last count, six states have introduced bills to make various forms of protesting a felony or other serious charge. Most recently, Indiana introduced a bill that would authorize police to use “any means necessary” against protesting that happens to be blocking traffic. Yes, you read that right. If your peaceful protest spills out onto the street even for a moment, it’s felony time for you.

And people intend to use these laws. Over 200 inauguration day protestors have been charged with felonies. Even journalists who covered protests against Trump are being charged with felonies.

Trump and team clearly want to be able to lie to us while restricting our ability to protest their decisions. They want to control communication and limit our ability to revolt.

This is tyranny’s foundation. Resist.

Yes, there are positive things happening. The resistance is alive. Millions of people marching in one single global protest does at least one thing: it encourages others to use their voice.

The New York Times actually used the word “lie” in a headline to describe words made by Trump’s mouth. This is progress. Months ago (and even just the other day) major news sources said they would not use that word to describe a president’s utterings.

CNN didn’t cover Spicer’s first press appearance live for fear of what he might say, and to honor the responsibility they have to report at least somewhat-factual news.

Even the National Park Service has rallied to the cause. Now they are posting on Twitter under a non-government-run account. They already have 40,000 followers, and have inspired dozens of other rogue accounts, including a whole host of them dedicated to national parks (and truth).

And it doesn’t stop at national parks. Now the USDA, NASA, and other major national organizations are joining in. They are using these rogue accounts to express that facts, science, and the ability to share information with the public are all in jeopardy. The White House’s own staff appears to have a rogue account. They are tweeting the scariest stuff yet about what’s going on behind the golden curtains.

I’ll take these “rogue” voices and positive events as a good sign.

But we’re dealing with an administration continues to frame protest (or any reasonable form of opposition) as an act of war. For example, when McCain and Graham drafted a letter taking a stance against the immigration ban, Trump framed their opposition as an attempt to start World War III. The meaning is clear. Trump intends to go to war against all who oppose him. And that Trump has no idea what the word “world” means.

We can defend against unnecessary war and we can defend against inaccurate usage of vocabulary, but to do so, we need the Internet.

Imagine organizing a 3-million person march without the web. Imagine being unable to provide facts and supporting data to defend the truth against the Trump administration’s lies because your sources of information were missing. Imagine where we would be today without the Internet to help us. Granted, the Internet did its fair share to get us here. But we’re nowhere without it.

 

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The Trump/Russia Graft Timeline: How Do You Say “Quid Pro Quo” in Russian?

LATER TODAY, President Donald J. Trump will speak with Russian President Vladimir Putin for (what we’ve been led to believe is) the first time. On the agenda: the lifting of U.S. sanctions against Russia, imposed after Russia’s illegal annexation of the Crimea.

Earlier this week, I wrote about the FBI’s classified investigation into the alleged ties between the Russian government and the Trump campaign, with an emphasis on Russian hackers and the seemingly bizarre behavior of FBI Director James Comey.

Today, the focus is on (potential) bribery and graft. The below timeline illustrates how Donald Trump and his associates may benefit materially from their ties to Putin and his associates in Russia:

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rubles

July 19, 2016
In his intelligence report, Christopher Steele tells of a meeting between Donald Trump foreign affairs adviser Carter Page and Igor Sechin, the head of Russian state oil company Rosneft and a “Putin close associate and US-sanctioned individual”—that is, someone personally blacklisted by the U.S. government. Sechin “raised with Page the issues of future bilateral energy cooperation and prospects for an associated move to lift Ukraine-related Western sanctions against Russia.” Page reacted positively to the discussions, Steele reports. (Steele dossier, p. 9).

October 18, 2016
In his intelligence report, Steele reveals more information about the summer rendezvous between Page and Sechin. “[T]he Rosneft company president was so keen to lift personal and corporate [W]estern sanctions imposed on the company that he offered PAGE/TRUMP’s associates the brokerage of up to a 19 percent (privatized) stake in Rosneft in return. PAGE had expressed interest and confirmed that were TRUMP elected US president, then sanctions on Russia would be lifted.” (Steele dossier, p. 30)

7 December, 2016
Putin and Igor Sechin, head of Russian oil giant Rosneft, announce a plan to privatize 19.5% of the company. The price is 10.2 billion euros. The brokerage commission of the sale is, conservatively, worth hundreds of millions of euros.
—>As @adm points out, the 19.5% bears striking similarity to the 19% stake mentioned by Steele in the dossier.

8 December, 2017
Carter Page meets with Rosneft senior executives in Moscow.

12 December 2017
Rex Tillerson is nominated to be Secretary of State. While CEO of Exxon, Tillerson signed a deal with Russia to drill in the Arctic; for this, he received the Order of Friendship by Vladimir Putin. The Arctic project was scuttled on October 10, 2014, after the sanctions imposed on Russia by the U.S. government. At the time, Exxon had discovered a new field there with an estimated 750 million barrels of oil.

13 January, 2017
In an interview with the Wall Street Journal, Trump suggests that Russian sanctions could be lifted if Russia proved an ally.

20 January, 2017
Donald Trump is inaugurated president of the United States.

25 January, 2017
Reuters reports that a month after the Rosneft deal, it is still not clear who exactly purchased the aforementioned 19.5% stake in the Russian state oil company.

Meanwhile, Russia arrested a top cybercrime expert who worked for the secruity company Kapersky, as well as Sergei Mikhailov, deputy head of the information security department of the FSB, Russia’s national security service, the latter on the charge of treason. Both men were rumored to be involved in the hacking of the DNC.
—>The arrests create the impression that Putin is cracking down on Russians who tampered with the election, probably as a PR move, or to influence Trump, or both.

27 January, 2017
In advance of the planned called between President Trump and President Putin, which the latter announced on Russian TV, Kellyanne Conway confirms that the lifting of the Russian sanctions is a possibility. “All of that is under consideration,” she says.

Meanwhile, Business Insider reports that “the privatization deal was funded by Gazprombank, whose parent company is the state-owned Russian energy giant Gazprom.”
—>While we don’t know for sure, because Trump has not released his taxes, it is plausible that Gazprombank is one of his many creditors.

28 January, 2017
President Trump and President Putin speak on the phone for the first time.
—>If sanctions are lifted, either today or in the future, both Putin and Trump, as well as Tillerson and Page, stand to benefit materially, in a big way.

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Connect the dots and this narrative emerges: Putin ordered the sale of the stake in the oil company in order to generate revenue to use to tempt Trump to lift the sanctions. It sure looks that way. But even if the events in the timeline turn out to be a giant coincidence and that narrative proves untrue, even the appearance of financial impropriety by the U.S. president, especially as related to foreign governments, is what prompted the framers to include the Emoluments Clause in the Constitution. As Zephyr Teachout wrote this week in the Washington Post, “The framers knew what a headache [the Emoluments Clause] could become, but they included it anyway because of the lessons of history. They knew that foreign governments would necessarily attempt to influence U.S. policy, and they wanted the Constitution to protect against that.”

It should also be pointed out that, because we have not seen Trump’s taxes, we don’t know how much, if anything, he owes creditors in Russia, although a large debt seems likely. Also: there doesn’t have to be a big deposit in some offshore account for Trump to benefit here. Perhaps his “brokerage commission” would be paid by simply absolving him of his outstanding debt to Russian banks.

In any case, the President of the United States is today engaging in negotiation with the leader of a foreign government that has the ability to blackmail him, whether with personal or financial disclosures, as the Steele dossier alleges, and the CIA confirms. This is a violation of the Constitution, if not an outright act of treason.

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How to Prepare the Press for War

THE GLOVES ARE OFF.

Last week White House Press Secretary Sean Spicer walked into the West Wing briefing and smacked the press corps around with a handful of outright lies, berated them, then walked out of the room without taking questions. This past Wednesday, Steve Bannon proclaimed that the media is “the opposition party” of the current administration and should “keep its mouth shut.”

If that’s how the Trump administration wants to play it, then the journalists working the press corps beat need to get much tougher. Currently there are too many pushovers occupying those seats. Trump’s brand of false bravado already put them off in the lead-up to the election. Now Spicer has adopted his same combative techniques.

The solution?

This is war, and like any war requires careful planning and an understanding of your enemy. The following are suggestions for how the news media should conduct itself at the next Trump news conference, assuming there is one. The same strategy can be employed at White House press briefings–again, if there are any–with a few tweaks.

1. Winnow the ranks of the journalists in the room, which means many of the news outlets would have to give up their seats. Though this would be unpopular, it’s the only way. Collusion among the news media might seem distasteful and unethical to some, but these are extraordinary times. No more than thirty reporters in the pool. Trump thrives in a large room but becomes noticeably uncomfortable in smaller settings. Just listen to his conversations with The New York Times reporters and editors. In those recordings he bends over backwards to gain their approval and exhibits much less of the bravado of his rallies.

2. Replace the weak with the brash: Only send in reporters who won’t back down in the face of gutless bullying. I can name a dozen journalists off the top of my head who could do it, those capable of asking straightforward questions and not giving an inch until they’ve gotten an answer.

3. Fill the front row of the next news conference with young, blond women who bear a resemblance to his daughter Ivanka. Editors need to instruct these women to play to his misogyny. Coach them in coming off ditzy and obsequious—think Victoria Jackson from ’80s Saturday Night Live—then when Trump’s basking in their flattery and fluttering eyelashes, wham! Hit him with a pointed question that catches him off guard. Stunned, Trump will scramble for answers and fall back on his greatest hits of insults. Yes, these women will get berated on national television, but that’s the cost of war. The same way the first troops out of the transport fall and become the sandbags, behind which the next wave can conduct their offensive. It’s brutal, but that’s the way it goes.

4. That’s when the grizzled fearless vets come in, demanding answers and refusing to back down. When Trump refuses to answer one reporter’s question, the next either cedes their time to the shot-down colleague or picks up the same thread. No exceptions. Solidarity in the second wave of the assault is crucial. If Trump berates one reporter, the rest must come to their defense. The goal of this strategy isn’t to get a straight answer out of Trump. That will never happen. Rather, it is to force Trump to retreat, walking away from the microphone in mid-sentence amid a hail of questions he can’t answer without incriminating himself on charges of treason.

It should be the goal of every reputable news outlet that sends a reporter to the White House to get banned from the briefings within the first month. In response, the administration will likely take a page from the Bush 43 playbook and stack the room with sycophantic ringers to pitch Spicer softball questions. But who cares? The goal is to show the administration and Americans that the briefing is really irrelevant.
Because in the end it’s all about optics, not substance. Trump and his hand puppet Spicer must be made to look weak in front of his followers, some of whom are already questioning their decision to vote for him. Right now he is at his least popular since winning the presidency. Chip away at his image enough and eventually enough Trump supporters will turn on him.

Meanwhile the real reporting continues away from the White House. Trump has made so many enemies in the intelligence communities and various departments that the next few years (hopefully, only months) promise to be a golden era of scoops and deep-background revelations that will eventually topple him.

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