Lindsay Graham said at the start of the Sotomayor hearing that unless she had a meltdown, she was getting confirmed. And, further, he didn’t think she was going to have a meltdown. So why did we have to waste all that time? Just to allow us to showcase to the world the endemic and virulent prejudice that pulses below the surface of our society, and worse, at the highest levels of government?
Gee, Senator Graham, thanks for the reminder.
This morning my train was stopped in a station because of a sick passenger at 42nd Street. Everyone was quiet and polite when hearing the announcement. No groans about the inconvenience. People were patient and calm.
Then a local train pulled in the station and everyone started pushing each other and shoving themselves into the overcrowded train. The train conductor started to yell to people to back away from the train.
Different situation, but exactly the same people.
People in NY can live a delusional life even as its financial institutions are crumbling. I heard someone say to another: “These days, saving a couple hundred thousand dollars really makes a difference.” Meaning that saving that much two years ago wasn’t so important? Whaaaaaaat?
I keep thinking that I would love life so much more as a silent film.
May I eat the crumbs at your table?
What does kumbaya mean anyway?
A child’s hug is the best tonic for a lousy day at work. If you don’t have one, hug your neighbor’s child (especially after a bath, because they are clean and smell better).
My sister is guest blogging with me. She is helping edit this entry. So, it will be nicer and better written than usual.
On Sunday, my partner, son and I were on our way back from the Bronx Zoo on the No. 2 train. Somewhere in the Bronx, a woman had a petite mal seizure (form of epilepsy it seemed) on the train, but no one knew that until she came around. Everyone was joking about her being a drunk or a drug addict. Someone helped her back on the seat. Then, everyone continued talking about her as if she wasn’t there. I got up and walked down the subway car to see if someone was hurt and and asked her if she was ok. She said she has seizures and felt ok. She seemed dazed and I kept my eye on her and asked her a few more times about how she was feeling. We got off the train at the same stop in Manhattan and I made sure she knew where she was and that she had her wallet with money to get where she needed to go (back up to the Bronx). I was startled and sad that no one else came to her aid and people thought it was funny. I didn’t even help that much, but I hope I made her feel a little safer.
Over 40 years ago, Kitty Genovese was stabbed countless times while her neighbors looked on. Psychologists say that this communal inaction is known as diffusion of responsibility. No one will act unless someone else does, and therefore no one acts.
So, only one person needs to act and everything can change. Yes, we can.
Too many bugs in nature. But I braved the wilds of Rockland County for my son.
I went to camp for ten summers. I loved camp, notwithstanding my current aversion to the bugs and inconveniences of the natural world. (I need a NICE bathroom.)
So, having loved camp so much, I was game for all of the activities. My son wanted to relax after a hard day of having fun and lied down in the grass. My partner took pictures of him lying down. I got involved in a soccer game (and gracelessly tripped over the ball) and then played parent-child basketball games (even though my child was on the sidelines chilling out). And I ran to get the cherry italian ices for us that the camp gave as a parting snack. I overheard a father asking if there were lemon ices because the cherry kind stained permanently. I saw a woman in white pants (great idea for an evening at a camp) get splashed with cherry ices being eaten by a nearby child. It seemed to happen in slow motion, with love music in the background as the white and the cherry collided in a loving embrace. Ok, the woman and the child who was not her daughter — not so much loving happening there.
Our son wore most of his cherry ices on his clothes and on his face. The neon quality of the coloring made it a handy tracking device as we boarded the buses back to the city.
In France, the Revolution didn’t lead to better government, just different government and different despots. Same is true for the Russian Revolution. The American Revolution still maintained slavery. And the Islamic Revolution enforced laws of repression and discrimination. I am sure that there are instances when the oppressed once freed did not mimic their oppressors. But, since I am not a student of history, I can’t think of one off-hand. Those overthrown deserved their fate, but the populaces affected deserved better post-revolutionary leaders and governments.
I blog because it is cathartic and empowering. It is also more considerate of my friends and family to give them a break from listening to me. My partner is especially grateful. She can read my thoughts when she has time or not. Up to her.
I would appreciate comments from those of you who read my entries. I would welcome different viewpoints and I would like to engage in a dialogue. I see the world through a lens shaped by my life’s trajectory and family story, so my view is necessarily constrained.
Sen. Sessions looks at Judge Sotomayor and he thinks only “Puerto Rican” (or worse) because he incessantly brings up some GWB judicial nominee with a last name Estrada. As Rachel Maddow pointed out, Mr. Estrada was among many Bush II nominees rejected by the Senate. So, why the emphasis on Mr. Estrada? Why not any other right-wing, neo-con nominee who was rejected? Because prejudice boils under the surface of our the hallowed traditions of our democracy.
Sen. Sessions, please, please, attack her on her decisions, if you must. Question her application of the law in various decisions. Really, go nuts. But, don’t infect a basic Constitutional mechanism with prejudice. This land was founded as haven from intolerance and prejudice. A beacon to the world. Sen. Sessions, you have sullied the process and our national principles by your comments.
The bigger question is: why don’t you look at Judge Sotomayor and see an accomplished jurist? A person (not a woman and not a latina) who, through hard work and determination, sits before you seeking confirmation to the highest court in the land. I wish you could read her decisions without seeing her ethnic last name or knowing that she is a woman. I wish you could just take issue with her decisions. Her decisions speak louder than any sound bite on a lecture circuit and are the important matters at hand.
Chances are she will be confirmed. But the stain you have placed on this process will never come out.