Category Archives: social justice

Ten days out

Geography of hope

My main advice? Don’t read the polls. 

I know some of you are canvassing, making calls, posting excellent content, writing postcards. If you are, keep at it. Today, I’m sending 10 more postcards, this time to New York trying to flip back one of those five seats that went red last time.

Try not to think too much about how even if Trump loses we have a major problem with the oligarchs in this country.

(And also with the brain-washed. The death of facts. The disinterest in shared reality. No small parenthetical, this).

Peter Thiel, have you heard? He thinks the non-innovators in our country ought to be boiled into goo to fuel the lives of the innovators. He was joking, I guess. Jeff Bezos can date a giant-breasted younger woman, but has no balls, apparently. And “jumping dipshit” while a perfect description of Musk (courtesy of Walz), doesn’t even begin to describe the danger of THAT immigrant, whose acts at this point can only be described as treason. Security clearance, anyone?

Of course in the inexplicable way of looping media, we knew AGES ago that Musk cut out Starlink communications to Ukraine at a critical moment early in the war. And Kelly’s “revelation”? The only really new thing is that he was willing to say what he knew about trump out loud, on tape. Jeezus. Bring me back to a world where October surprises are even possible.

Although it’s almost unavoidable, try not to focus too much on the moral collapse of our media. Trust your gut. Trust your God, if you have one. Watch an Obama speech. Read the James Carville opinion piece that I’m gifting you: Three Reasons I’m Certain Kamala Harris Will Win.

Take a walk. Make an apple crisp. Rake leaves. Sign up for Jude’s new Substack. Go to the gym. Knit. Ignore the polls. Read Robert Hubbell. Get a manicure if that’s your thing. Call your mother if she’s alive. Brush the dog. Clean out a drawer. Leave me a review on Amazon. Really. Go leave me a review on Amazon. Go read about Liz’s peace pins. Maybe make one of your own. Or go read what I wrote after receiving one in the mail, years back. Get your haircut. Learn how to cook a perfect omelette. Or just go out to breakfast.

Speaking of that fuckwad Jeff Bezos, I hate that Amazon book reviews matter, but they matter — algorithms, puke. I’m not above begging here. If you’ve already left one, thank you! They don’t have to be brilliant or long. They count the number of reviews and not really their content beyond the number of stars. But of course I love praise — who doesn’t?

And now off for my morning coffee. Getting out of bed at 8:30, staying up ‘til after 11, still somewhat on California time. 

Remember Joyce Vance’s line: we’re in this together.

P.S. After lamenting the lack of making in this house, yesterday I finished stitching a heart pillow begun ages ago and filled it with balsam. And cut and paste a little. Below are a few of those collages.

BTW, the maga hat wearer is Andrew Anglin, founder of the Neo-Nazi website “stormtroopers.”

Resurrecting his ugly mug just in time for trump’s Madison Square Garden Nazi rally!

Old collage using Anglin photo

Heat, Paper Choices, Words on Cloth

Yeah it’s hot but I’m outside anyway. Camp has begun next door at the school but so far it has been tolerable (no electronic bullhorns or high volume dubstep music).

The book details continue to be challenging. This morning I’m revising the all-important blurb (thanks Deb! Insightful as always).

Yesterday, in trying to get the spine dimension for my book cover designer (which requires knowing not just the number of pages but the weight of the paper), D2D’s support team supplied me with incorrect information (that’s Draft2Digital — a self-publishing aggregator). Groundwood paper? Really? The stuff that turns yellow with age and gets brittle?

Both on Reddit and Facebook, I posted this info and asked if others thought it problematic and if so who should I use for print-on-demand services instead.

The CEO of D2D entered the Reddit thread with the correct info (no, they don’t use groundwood paper). The CEO.

I was a little gobsmacked honestly. I don’t wish ill on the person who supplied me with wrong information, but if she were to be fired it should be for the terse “see my previous email” tone and not for her mistake. Bad form.

The NExT email came from someone else and instead of bitchily referring me to tutorials, explained what I needed to know in some detail. Apologized twice. Onward!

* * *

This at-times-blurry video (below) of a work-in-progress is 54 seconds long. The wobble of cloth is caused by the air coming through a vent near my feet.

Shown: words printed on silk. I also printed them on a sturdy canvas but I think I like the delicacy of the silk. Now to decide where to put them and whether I want pink cloth behind them or not.

It’ll be 93 here in another hour and a half. Not radically unusual but hot and sticky nevertheless. My weather app says that, counting in the humidity, it will feel like 101 degrees.

Lots more mosquitos than other years. Ugh.

Walking after dinner because of heat

Civil Rights Tour # 6 — Selma again

Picture this: a well-heeled white woman standing next to her shiny SUV in front of the artists’ cooperative that we were about to visit. Hear her going on and on about how great Selma is. Well worth more than a single day of your time! We have great churches. We have great synagogues… (huh? One of us is Jewish, but did SHE know that?)

I don’t doubt that Selma is a great place, one that deserved more exploration. We skimmed the surface, in and out in a few hours. We walked over the famous bridge, had lunch, quickly visited two “interpretive centers,” grabbed some ice cream, and were off.

But Selma’s obvious state of decline made me sad. Really sad. It struck me as emblematic of decades of misguided Republican “trickle down economics” and racist policies. Downtown was dead and further out wasn’t better — peppered with shacks, run down apartment complexes, boarded up gas stations.

Maybe the city gleamed before Covid, but I kind of doubt it.

We had lunch. Or tried to. I’ll give this place points for style, for friendliness, and for an earnest effort. But boy was it a miss. The food sucked, I mean really sucked. And we waited and waited for it, even though there was only one other group there.

Across the street: a faded Israeli flag and a neon sign reading: gentle human / thank you for coming.

Alabama River

There were two interpretive centers (that seems to be a new name for museums) — one on one side of the Edmund Pettus Bridge and one on the other. One was compact and polished with well-produced audio-visual presentations and a nice gift shop. The other was folksy, expansive, and more than a little worn at the edges.

The less-polished place started with an introduction by the guy at the front desk. It was elevated speech, nearly oratorical, with much mopping of the brow. Inside, we quickly appreciated the museum’s attempt to honor the “foot soldiers” of the Selma/Montgomery march. There were news clippings affording detail not found in more mainstream reporting, lots of photos, and even plaster casts of some of the protesters’ feet.

I was too tired to avail myself of the many resources at the other interpretive center, although this portrait (below) certainly caught my eye.

Sheriff Jim Clark, known for his violent temper

He looks like a monster, doesn’t he? He’s the reason Selma was chosen as a site for the march to Montgomery. His reactive, racist brutality could be depended upon to make a spectacle.

Finally, before leaving town we visited the “Candy Lady.” The place was almost deserted and the owner thanked us profusely for coming in and buying a few bowls of ice cream. That seemed revealing of two things: one, that she was possibly hurting for business and two, that in casual encounters people in the South are so much nicer than Northerners. By miles. It’s almost disorienting how much nicer Southerners are. Especially given the history.

Dated March 19, 1965. Seen at the museum at the Lorraine Hotel in Memphis

Civil Rights Tour #5 — Selma

This post was gonna have two parts — some history and then personal impressions — but it took so long to put this together, I’ll send personal impressions separately.

Did you know that there were two cancelled marches from Selma prior to the completed, successful one to Montgomery?

Background— January, 1965

Martin Luther King with SCLC joined SNCC,* the Dallas County Voters League, and other local …activists in a voting rights campaign in Selma where, in spite of repeated registration attempts by local blacks, only two percent were on the voting rolls. SCLC had chosen … Selma because they anticipated that the notorious brutality of local law enforcement …would attract national attention and pressure President Lyndon B. Johnson and Congress to enact new national voting rights legislation.King Institute at Stanford.

Spoiler alert: it worked.

February, 1965

Alabama state troopers broke up a protest in nearby Marion in February with vicious beatings. One cop shot Jimmie Lee Jackson, a young church deacon, as he tried to protect his mother from a billy club. He died eight days later (also from King Institute).

March, 1965

The first march attempt, on March 7, was organized in response to the murder of Jimmie Lee Jackson. However, it didn’t get past the Edmund Pettus Bridge. Troopers advanced against the crowd and brutally beat and gassed them. Cameras were rolling. John Lewis was among the injured.

This violent melee became known as “Bloody Sunday” and was aired on national news.

Governor Wallace used the pretext of preserving safety to deny the protesters all manner of support and a local judge put out a restraining order to prevent the march for a few more days.

As Andrew Young described in the PBS series Eyes on the Prize, since no state or federal support was forthcoming, ‘we sent out the call to people of goodwill.’

That’s when 450 white pastors, nuns, and others committed to social justice arrived from the north.

Rather immediately thugs started harassing them too. On March 7, a group of locals beat the shit out of James Reeb, a Unitarian minister from Massachusetts. Reeb died two days later.

This was galvanizing which was a good thing but it was also controversial since it made people wonder why Jimmie Lee Jackson’s death hadn’t garnered a similar response.

The second march started in spite of the judicial ban and the lack of protection but, probably for both of those reasons, it ended before even crossing the bridge. This was quite a moment. Backed by more than 2,000 protestors, Reverend Martin Luther King stopped and then knelt down to pray. The crowd behind him followed suit. He then stood, turned around, and led people off the bridge and away.

At this point in the PBS Show Bridge to Freedom, I learned that MLK had never before violated a federal order and was reluctant to do so. Also around then, President Johnson was pressuring Governor Wallace to do the right thing. When it became clear that he wouldn’t, Johnson federalized the Alabama National Guard.

[Aside: in Ava DuVernay’s powerful telling in Selma, some of the most dramatic moments were the conversations between President Johnson and MLK and the president and Wallace].

March 15

President Johnson addressed Congress with an impassioned speech about the “crippling legacy of bigotry” and called on members to draft voting rights legislation (you know — that landmark law that the Roberts court has been systematically dismantling).

President Johnson’s use of the language of liberation (“we shall overcome”) at the speech’s end was heard loud and clear and cheered by Black citizens.

MLK had been asking and asking for this legislation and Johnson kept putting him off. The time wasn’t right. He couldn’t do it so soon after the Civil Rights Act, etc. But the shared experience of watching the shameful and shocking violence on national news changed the equation.

[Aside: Think about today, where we don’t watch the same channel, making it hard for a single event to galvanize the nation. A recent exception: the nine minute video of Derek Chauvin murdering George Floyd].

The day after Johnson’s address to Congress, ‘demonstrators submitted a … march plan to Judge Johnson, who approved the demonstration and enjoined Governor Wallace and local law enforcement from harassing or threatening marchers.’ (the Stanford King Institute).

March 17

Johnson submitted voting rights legislation to Congress.

March 21

On this the third try, the march began and continued all the way to the state capitol, Montgomery. Fifty four miles. Four days. According to the King Institute, by the end there were 25,000 participants.

BTW — you know that iconic image of MLK linked arm in arm at the front of the march, with others wearing suits? That was by design. Credible death threats against King were circulating at the time and so, since ‘they can’t tell us apart’ (Andrew Young interview, Eyes on the Prize), it was decided to dress many of the men out front like the Reverend.

Sources:

The movie Selma by Ava DuVernay (Netflix)

Eyes on the Prize, Season One: The Bridge to Freedom. (you can watch on PBS. Or Prime, I think)

The Stanford King Institute.

National Geographic article full of history about the March from Selma to Montgomery, voter registration efforts, and the Montgomery bus Boycott.

You can read or listen to an interview with Andrew Young from the PBS show here.

*SCLC = Southern Christian Leadership Conference

SNCC = Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee

Civil rights tour #4 – Montgomery continued

As stunning and moving as the Equal Justice Initiative’s Legacy Museum and National Memorial for Peace and Justice were, Montgomery offered more to see.

We visited: the Rosa Parks Museum, the Civil Rights Memorial of the Southern Poverty Law Center, Dexter AME where Rev. Martin Luther King preached, plus our hotel was not far from the site of the waterfront Montgomery River Brawl.

The Rosa Parks Museum was about to close when we got there, but since it was small and the front desk clerk was gracious, we dashed in. It houses the actual bus where Rosa Parks famously sat up front and refused to move to the rear. There is also a lot of documentary and photographic ephemera associated with the Montgomery Bus Boycott.

By this hour, my brain was a little fried, but one indelible fact popped — how supporters used vehicles like hearses or commercial vans to secretly transport protestors, many of whom had 90-minute (or longer) walks to get home after a long day of menial labor.

Why? To avoid violence of course.

This strategy reminded me of the folks trying to leave Florida during the Great Migration as described by Isabel Wilkerson.* Because white “employers” would exert undue pressure or worse to keep their cheap, indentured workforce, Black Floridians had to secretly or slowly sell their belongings and then depart surreptitiously. One person had themselves nailed into a coffin to avoid detection.

Earlier that day, we went to the Southern Poverty Law Center’s Civil Rights Memorial. You might have laughed at us circling the block a few times trying to locate the building. Around and around we went.

Unfortunately that famous and beautiful granite water feature out front was dry for repairs, but the inside, though small, did not disappoint.

You entered into a cavernous space papered with historic photos. Then a sound track started while lights illuminated relevant photos.

That table you see was dedicated to “the Martyrs.”

Next, in an auditorium a film about civil rights played, covering much of what we’d been seeing but also addressing George Floyd’s murder and the Black Lives Matter movement.

At the end, a darkened room offered memorial-goers an opportunity to add their names to a scrolling visual display of supporters. It was one of those clever interactive exhibits that pulls people in and lets them feel part of something. Or at least, it did me.

There was no place to make a donation there, which I kind of expected, but since I’ve been a card-carrying member of the SPLC since 1990, I didn’t feel too bad.

Dexter Baptist Church

Charles M. Blow: many Black people, in particular, saw it [the violent tussles] as an unfortunate but practically unavoidable response to what can feel like an unending stream of incidents in which Black people are publicly victimized, with no one willing or able to intervene or render aid.

Here’s a link to his oped with the paywall removed: New York Times Opinion.

And here’s a screen shot from Rolling Stone:

Rolling Stone link.

Anyway, I’m surprised that no one thought to artfully position a folding chair next to this statue of Rosa Parks, just blocks from the waterfront.

* The Warmth of Other Suns, the Epic Story of America’s Great Migration, by Isabel Wilkerson.