Go Skins?

Why do Washingtonians support a football team with a racist name?

Washington D.C. has a long and proud history of confronting racism and celebrating diversity. The city has seen so many demonstrations, rallies, marches, legislative actions and presidential initiatives denouncing racism or celebrating racial and ethnic diversity that one can justly consider it to be the epicenter of American equality.

Washington, D.C. is also at the heart of a large and proudly diverse populaiton. The city itself has a majority black population. The larger metropolitan region is extremely diverse and is on the threshold of having a majority minority population (i.e., no one ethnic group will comprise a majority of the population). Washington's elected mayors have all been African American or had significant African American ancestry.


Why then are its football fans so loyally committed to a team with a racist name? Why do they permit that team's owners to perpetuate their brand of racism? The term is offensive to large numbers, probably most, of the Native American community.

Some defend the term on various and mostly specious grounds, but consider putting "the shoe was on another foot" for a moment. Let's imagine using racial slang for another ethnic group as the team's name. Would Washingtonians support it if the team were named, say, the " Washington Darkies"? Or "Chinamen" or "Wops" or "Honkies" or "Dagos" or "Coolies" or "Crackers" or "Ragheads," or any other name used disparagingly to describe an ethnic group and offensive to a significant population of that group? I seriously doubt it. It the team's owners tried to change the name in such an odious way, fans and the general public would be outraged.

Why then do we accept the name "Redskins"? The name must be changed, and area fans should refuse to support the team - and especially its owners - until it is.

Helicopter-free zone

Woke up in a childless house for the first time in seventeen-plus years. She's in college now, one day into her freshman year. Three days, if you count the weekend.

First reports are highly positive: good room-mate, good suite-mate, new friends, dorm room working out well, lots of fun so far. Too early to know about her classes, of course. But college seems wonderful. At least, that's her view of it.

Mine is different. The house seems terribly empty, unnaturally quiet. The dog - her dog - seems bewildered. So am I, but he shows it more. I think.

Knew full well long before this weekend that she is the central figure in my life, and as every reluctantly realizes, I was doomed to abandonment. And now it's happened. Knowing that it's for the best, knowing it's what she's been craving, knowing that it's what I've always wanted for her, knowing that this past weekend would be the biggest step in her long road to independence ... knowing all of that helps, but not that much. I miss her, and there's a huge hole in my life.

But it's up to me to fill it; she quite properly is looking forward, not backward.

Right now the best I can do is to avoid becoming a helicopter parent, or worse, a velcro parent. The temptation is strong, but it would be destructive of everything I want for her. So I try to limit my calls and e-mails to plausible excuses.

Fortunately, she's helping in that regard. A couple of excited calls about new friends. A wail about a cold night and a missing blanket. A small gift of something I know she'll like, to arrive in her mailbox later this week. And then the first call for money. (And that, I'm pleased, was for a good reason, and easy to oblige.)

But her departure is not without benefits. For the first time since she arrived all those years ago, I'm cooking to my tastes, not to the lowest common denominator she imposed. And I'm biking on those small errands she used to like to share ... provided we drove. I know too that there will be other little surprises along the way, until my life reaches a new dynamic that defines her as a welcome but only occasional visitor.

Still, I miss her. Powerfully. This giving of one's heart to a child isn't an easy thing.

A summer of obsessing

Choosing the school turned out to be easier than I had anticipated. But the anticipation is proving tough on the kid.

Spent the spring obsessing about finding a roommate. She joined the FaceBook page for members of her class, and developed virtual friendships with a bunch of them. Found one she thought she'd like to room with; met her at a local mall and it wasn't exactly love at first sight. Back to obsessing.

Headed south for the school's new students' orientation. Parents in dorms (air conditioned, thankfully!) with the students in different dorms (and not so lucky in the blistering weather).

But luck was with her; she hit it off with the student randomly assigned to be her roomie for the night, and vice versa. They decided to make it official for the full year, figuring the one night shared gave them a far better bet than taking pot luck.

More than that, the trip confirmed that THIS is the college. She met her academic advisor, registered for classes, arranged for her books, selected her computer, dined in the mess hall, bought the requisite tee-shirts.

The virtual friendship with the new roomie blossomed, via FB and a seemingly constant stream of text messages. Took the two of them to an amusement park in early August, and they both had fun; more to the point, the excursion's success augurs well for school-year compatibility between the two.

Of course, she's still obsessing about college. All summer long, she's marked the days down on the calendar, but now that she's down to a dozen she's getting VERY anxious. Which seems about right; I can't imagine it otherwise. My guess is that she'll be happy down there, probably quite happy, but the transition may well have its rough spots.

But there's probably not a better way for her to go ... and go she must, as every parent must recognize.

(Of course, how those parents feel about it is a completely different matter ....)

And now I am one

Back when the Obama administration was taking form in the midst of the Bush-era financial debacle, there was considerable discussion of the appropriate scale for a federal stimulus package. The new President opted for a timid approach, perhaps because he didn't want to imperil his chances for bipartisanship, perhaps because he thought he could come back for a second installment if necessary, or perhaps because he thought his timid package would prove adequate. Some political leaders, several prominent economists, and a few progressive pundits thought that Mr. Obama was wrong on all three counts; the Republicans were not interested in bipartisanship, the political consensus needed to pass a stimulus package would soon unravel, and that the package being promoted would prove woefully inadequate.

Sadly, the skeptics were proven right on all counts. The Republicans became the party of "No," much more interested in thwarting President Obama than in helping America. The opportunity proved very short-lived, withering in the face of Republican obstructionism and a sustained rhetorical assault by the right wing -- an opposition unwittingly aided by a curiously detached White House. And the stimulus has proven so inadequate that the county appears to be locked into a long term period of stagnation in which millions upon millions of Americans will suffer as high unemployment numbers remain unchanging and the unemployed slip into long-term unemployment and lives of hopelessness and increasing levels of misery. Meanwhile, America's political leaders seem apathetic to the sufferings of their constituents and astonishingly removed from the realities Americans face.

All along, I've been siding with the progressive skeptics. All along, I've favored a much more aggressive stimulus package (coupled with a rapid drawdown in our pointless and expensive wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, and a roll-back of the lopsided tax cuts given to the nation's affluent by the Bush administration). All along, I've sided with those who saw this terrible recession as an opportunity to embark on economic development strategies which would improve American competitiveness, address the growing problems of climate change and foreign petroleum dependence, and provide unemployed Americans with modern jobs that would help build our collective future.

But I never thought I was arguing in favor of what I personally would need.

Wrong.

Laid off. In a field which is dying. And of an age where the few prospects available to younger unemployed are unavailable to me.

These are dismal times for our nation. And now they're dismal times for me.

Dismal times, and very humbling. I entered the job market during a recessionary period when jobs were hard to find, and job scarcity has characterized most of my career. And here I am, still years from retirement but with no prospects.

One hopes hope will come, but it seems awfully distant now.

The library's flowers are wilting

We have a fairly new part-time employee whose job title is "research assistant" but who in reality is a library assistant, with precious little in the way of research duties. She's student at an MLS program in the region, full of enthusiasm for the profession she seeks.

The other day she got very upset with me. I forget how the conversation started, but she noted that she is disappointed with the job because it's mostly boring stuff and doesn't involve any research or much other opportunity for creativity. Mind you, I didn't write the job proposal, I didn't interview her, and I don't supervise her, so her disappointment isn't my fault. Anyway, I responded by noting that the field is mostly about process, and not content. We help others do the creative stuff, but mostly we just keep the information process operating as smoothly as we can.

We then started talking in greater depth about the field. I told her what I see: around the country, libraries are cutting back, laying off staff, reducing hours, even closing libraries. That's true in all sorts of libraries: public, academic, law and special. I also mentioned what's happening to just about all the people in the field whom I know. There's gloom across the board.

And I mentioned what's happening to my library. Next year my institute moves to a new building; for most people here, that's good news ... but for us in the library, it's definitely not. We'll suffer nearly a 50% cut in space, drastic reductions in work space and working conditions, loss of all of our bound journals, loss of the vast majority of our reference works, and loss of nearly half of the rest of our collection. Indeed, I'm already spending a goodly share of my time disposing of books, and I'll be doing that throughout the coming year. (I have to add that it's very dispiriting to be whacking at a collection I had carefully built over the past dozen years.)

And no, the losses won't be made up by electronic resources. Much of it simply cannot be replaced that way, and in any case there's no promise of corresponding increases in funding so we can afford to switch to more intensive use of electronic resources ... and they don't come cheap! And no, the researchers dependent on the library won't have anywhere else to go.

I guess I sounded pretty dispirited.

Anyway, the research assistant got really upset with my "negativity" because she is "just entering the field" and doesn't want to hear anything negative about it! Sorry sister, but the library field is a declining and increasingly stressed field throughout; like I said, I don't know anybody in the field who doesn't have dismal tales to tell. And I don't know of any libraries where morale -- or funding, or workload, or job prospects -- are improving. It would be funny if it wasn't so sad. I suppose that I shouldn't be telling her about the weeding going on here and what it means for the collection, either, huh? Guess I shouldn't mention global warming or financial reform or the war in Afghanistan, either; just happy stories from here on out. Much better to be an ostrich.

It's not a good time to be a librarian. Wishful thinking won't help; the field is declining.

Relections on Iceland's volcano

As all of Europe and probably most of the rest of the world now knows, ash spewed from Iceland's Eyjafjallajokull volcano has shut down much of Europe's airspace. It's obviously a tremendous inconvenience to would-be airline passengers, and a serious hit on the finances of a great many airlines and airports. Perhaps less obvious are three interesting implications of the eruption.












Iceland is comparatively far from Europe, but even western Russia and northern Italy are being affected, and flights from or to Europe have been canceled around the globe. Officials are sounding public health warnings about the ash, as well. We're four days into this phase of the eruption, with no indication of how much longer it will last; it's conceivable that ash in the atmosphere will come to affect air travel throughout the northern hemisphere. It is a very dramatic illustration of how weather events in one part of the world affect life and commerce quite remote from the event. We would do well to remember Eyjafjallajokull when we consider the effects of climate change!

This also highlights the extent to which modern economies and consumers have become dependent on high altitude jetliner travel. High altitude insertion of greenhouse gases is particularly pernicious. The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) has estimated that aviation is responsible for around 3.5% of anthropogenic climate change, and the impact is growing. It would be good if Eyjafjallajokull leads us to be more mindful of the need to reduce the impact of jet travel on the global climate.

One of the many impacts being felt in Europe is the impending loss of most fresh produce deliveries, as much of Europe's produce is flown in. I'll bet that is coming as a surprise to a great many shoppers! This should highlight how even such a simple act as eating a fresh fruit contributes to our greenhouse gas emissions. Perhaps Eyjafjallajokull will encourage consumers to choose locally grown foods? One can hope.

Virginia Treason Month

The governor of the Commonwealth of Virginia, my own state, has named April to be "Confederate History Month." One wonders why. What does he think we should celebrate? Treason? Bloody, needless war? The attempted destruction of the United States? Slavery?

Oh, I know, apologists for the secessionists will reject the treason charge. But what is the truth? Robert E. Lee, Jefferson Davis, Stonewall Jackson, James Longstreet, George Pickett, Jeb Stuart, Jubal Early, and just about all of the other Confederate "heroes" swore to "bear true allegiance to the United States of America, and [to] serve them honestly and faithfully against all their enemies or opposers whatsoever." No exceptions, no limitations, no avenues for evasion, no escape clause. And certainly no allowance for rebellion. Oath-breakers, all. Enemies and opposers of the United States. Treason. Is this what Governor McDonell wants to honor?

The same apologists will blithely skip over the terrible blood price of their war, or wrap it in a filmy gauze. But face it; the War of Southern Treason was the bloodiest war in our history, even when counted in absolute numbers; deadlier than both World Wars combined. As a proportion of our population, their war was even worse, killing nearly one out of every 50 Americans, and maiming far more. Those weren't numbers; they were sons, husbands, brothers, fathers, dying in agony, millions of man-years of potential life, snuffed out. Hundreds of thousands of families shattered, widows and children thrust into destitution, wives and mothers keening for their dead. Is that what Governor McDonell wants to celebrate?

The proclamation refers to the South's treasonous war as "a war between the states for independence." Independence? No, destruction of the United States. Destruction just as sure as envisioned by any of our foreign enemies. Funny how many apologists for the Confederacy today proclaim loudly an espoused patriotism for the country their heros tried to destroy. Had the South succeeded in seceding, what would have become of what was left? Every regional squabble would have carried the threat of further dissolution, until North America was utterly Balkanized, with its various fragments lurching form one European alliance to another, dragging us into innumerable wars. Where, then, would have been the bastion of hope, the arsenal of democracy, when the Nazis marched over Europe, when Stalin looked for conquest?

The governor speaks of the "sacrifices" of Confederate leaders and soldiers. What of the sacrifices of the millions of heros who paid with their blood and sweat to save the United States from the terror the Southerners brought to the land? They are the ones I would honor.

And then there was that little matter unmentioned by the governor, that curious institution which bound men and women as property of other men and women. What was slavery? Do they reflect on that as they celebrate "Confederate History Month"? What do those who wax nostalgic for the Old South think of slavery? As little more than a form of employment for those enslaved, exchanging their labor for room and board, and not of much significance beyond that? Slavery was oppression, at its most vile. A human being who had no future but toil. A human being utterly subjected to the whims and caprices of his and her oppressor. Men and women denied the ability to strive for better lives, build families, raise children, know their parents and their brothers and sisters. Women raped to serve the carnal lusts of their oppressors. Men beaten and humiliated to profit and amuse the heartless who commanded them, the psychopaths who abused them. What would the governor have us celebrate about the effect of the Confederacy upon their lives?

Oh, I know, the apologists will argue that the South's treason was about states rights, and a way of life, and an economic order. But slavery was the essential link to all of those things. Without slavery, the supposed cause of states' rights would have been meaningless, except perhaps to debating societies. Without slavery, the Southern way of life wouldn't have existed. Without slavery, the Southern economic order would not have been opposed to the rest of the country. The Civil War was about slavery; the Confederacy was about the debasement of millions of Americans. Is that what Governor McDonell wants to honor?

I hope not. For if it is, neither he nor his supporters understand anything about what America is. The Confederacy belongs in the dustbin of history. If this sorry chapter in Virginia's history is to be remembered, it should be understood for what it was, so that this country can finally overcome the errors that led to this greatest violation of Americans' rights, and our bloodiest war.