Of Sabotage and Preschool Celebrities

What to say today? As usual, this will be a compilation of things I've found interesting in the past couple of weeks. But it seems I'm due for a quick update on the state of the world for context and posterity.

The Covid-19 pandemic is winding down. The virus is still active, but infection numbers are much lower and it's been officially labelled "endemic," which means it's not going away and we're not going to take any more special measures to combat it. We'll just have to learn to live with it being one of the illnesses that gets constantly passed around like colds and the flu. Mask and vaccine mandates are being lifted. Fewer people are masking. Social distancing seems a thing of the past. We're not quite "normal" yet, but closer than in two years.

Russia has invaded Ukraine. The right is still mobilizing against anti-racism and other "uncomfortable" topics. (See more in my last post: Banning Discomfort: Sadness Is Part of Being Human.) But the Senate did just vote to make Daylight Saving Time permanent starting next year, which prompted me to Facebook: The Senate can't agree on voting rights, the economy, Russia, or much or anything else, but at least they've put up a unified front against mornings. I am in favor of this move.

The right also thinks more guns is a solution for everything. A couple weeks ago I was leading a four-hour workshop in Zoom. Students and teachers from seven area high schools. There was a team of us presenting, moderating, and facilitating, but I was the hosting talking head. About halfway through, one of the schools had a shooting incident. Everyone was muted for a presentation and most of the student cameras were off, but one of them put a quick note in the chat. Other updates gradually emerged, a few from those in that building, a few from others in contact with friends who were in the building, a few from the news. In the end it was an isolated incident and no one involved with us was hurt, but their school was locked down and they all signed off.

In the moment, though, none of us knew what was happening. We had a few glimpses of those in the building pacing, anxious, on phones, managing a few vague things to us in the chat. Most of the other schools and students ended up leaving the workshop early because seeing it all happening and imagining the worst was traumatic. One of the reactions to the first chat notification was a teacher from another school saying it was probably a drill and that they'd just had a drill as well. Students live with this constant fear that they might be next. Because it happens. And now all of those students have experienced it or watched it happen.

This letter to the editor showed up in one of our newspapers. It's short (probably reduced by the paper) and simplistic, but it generally captures my thoughts:

THE REAL THREAT

On Friday, a student allegedly brought a gun to [Anonymous] High School and used it. How many students failed to return to class Monday morning out of fear because of their experience on Friday? How many students in the middle school or the elementary school, which were meeting places for high school students and parents, were afraid to return to school? How many siblings of those high schoolers are concerned about returning to school?

Their fear has nothing to do with a mask, nothing to do with a history course, nothing to do with books that parents want banned. It has everything to do with a student who had access to a gun and gun laws that allow that access.

How is a student mature enough to handle a deadly weapon but not mature enough to handle actual history or a novel, as some parents at school board meetings insist?

The first word I used to describe that experience was "surreal." I still think it's the most accurate.

Another first that came out of it: I was contacted that afternoon by the FBI wanting any recordings or records we had from the Zoom.

A thought related to the letter to the editor and to my last post, Banning Discomfort: Sadness Is Part of Being Human: I just finished Uncomfortable Conversations with a Black Boy by Emmanuel Acho. It's a young readers' adaptation of his similarly titled book for adults, which is based on a series of videos he created for the web starting in 2020 (context).

My review: A valuable book for readers of all ages. While I was a little disappointed with the lack of actual "conversation" in the book, perhaps what makes this most valuable is Acho's conversational style of writing about "uncomfortable" topics. He's informal, relaxed, approachable, and accessible, even while he manages to mix thoughts that might, in other contexts, be called "academic." Definitely one to recommend.

An excerpt from the last chapter that I particularly like:

Race was a political creation, an economic creation--all this hate developed to secure the interest of some seventeenth-century dudes who wanted to get rich growing sugarcane and cotton, who wanted to make sure they'd always be the class on top. Which is to say, racism has always been about power. Which is to say, we invented racism. which is to say, maybe we can learn to uninvent it, too.

Let me tell you what the movement for racial equality can't afford: white allies being fragile about racial issues. The premise of this book is about putting those issues on the table, about engaging with tough conversations, about my white brothers and sisters having to sit with the discomfort because that's how progress is made. That is not to say I want to intentionally hurt a white person's feelings. On the contrary, I want to move us toward healing. But we can't get to that part without the hard truths being a part of it.

If you are raising white kids, please, please talk to them about race. We must all see color to see racism. Plus, color, ethnicity is part of what makes people human, and to deny any of us our particularity is to deny our humanity.

We can't ban discomfort.

Speaking of the political battles between the left and the right, I'm fascinated by this image that showed up in my feed a while back.

A little digging and I found source material: Simple Sabotage Field Manual (pdf). The image comes from sections 11 and 12.

What fascinates me is not the idea of adopting these strategies with intentional sabotage in mind, but the many examples from my experience of people (including me) doing these things with no intention of disruption. So many are simply processes and habits we have that we're unaware lead to dysfunction.

I think the real use of this manual would be reading it with an eye for what NOT to do and then carefully analyzing yourself--and your organization--to try to eliminate them.

The list, more clearly:

(1) Insist on doing everything through "channels." Never permit short-cuts to be taken in order to expedite decisions.

(2) Make "speeches." Talk as frequently as possible and at great length. Illustrate your "points" by long anecdotes and accounts of personal experiences. Never hesitate to make a few appropriate "patriotic" comments.

(3) When possible, refer all matters to committees, for "further study and consideration." Attempt to make the committees as large as possible - never less than five.

(4) Bring up irrelevant issues as frequently as possible.

(5) Haggle over precise wordings of communications, minutes, resolutions.

(6) Refer back to matters decided upon at the last meeting and attempt to reopen the question of the advisability of that decision.

(7) Advocate "caution." Be "reasonable" and urge your fellow-conferees to be "reasonable" and avoid haste which might result in embarrassments or difficulties later on.

(8) Be worried about the propriety of any decision--raise the question of whether such action as is contemplated lies within the jurisdiction of the group or whether it might conflict with the policy of some higher echelon.

That's just the list for "organizations and conferences."

I'm pretty sure our kids are conversant with many sections of the sabotage manual. [Older] is 8 and [Younger] is six-approaching-seven. Here is a selection of things [Spouse] and I have recently shared on Facebook:

Somehow, even without kangaroos, this still describes our house at the moment during today's snow day.

6 years ago:

Mommy: "What did you do at the zoo today? Did you see penguins?"

[Older]: "No."

Mommy: "Did you see trains?"

[Older]: (mumbles through pacifier)

Daddy: "We watched the train go over us while standing under the bridge, right at the very end when [Older] was in time out in the stroller."

Mommy: "Oh, bridge, that's what he was saying. And why were you in time out, [Older]?"

[Older]: "Daddy chase me make kanga go hop hop hop."

Mommy: "Daddy had to chase you because you ran after the kangaroos and made them hop away in a stampede?"

[Older]: "Yeah! Daddy chase me. This way. That way. Me make kanga go hop hop hop (hops across kitchen)."

One of the comments: Was this before or after he caused the sheep stampede at the Renaissance Festival?

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We've always known [Older] has inherited our analytical tendencies. We've been calling him "our little lawyer" for a while, since he's always looking for overly-literal, logical loopholes in arguments.

This morning we decided to celebrate Fat Tuesday/International Pancake Day with a family breakfast at IHOP before school. As we were packing leftovers, paying our bill, and scrambling to get out on time, the boys got restless.

"Watch me do a cartwheel," said [Younger].

"No! Not inside."

So they wrestled each other to the ground instead.

In the car, [Spouse] scolded them. "We were having such a great morning, then you choose not to listen and ended the trip on a sour note."

Without a second's hesitation, [Older] said, "Technically we weren't coming from piano practice, so there couldn't have actually been any sour--"

"[Older]!"

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"Mom, I was going to call [Older] an idiot, but then I decided to be kind". --[Younger]

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[Older] was just having an exuberantly loud moment. [Younger], trying to get his attention, "[Older], could you just stop and listen?" No, sweetheart, he can't. Trust me!  😂

My comment: The voice of experience.

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These cards are hit and miss, with more missing than not. This, however, is one of my favorites. For both the sincere sentiment and the humor.

Don't Take It Personally

If someone starts to speak unkindly to me, I'll remember that they've got something going on that has nothing to do with me. Like maybe they just pooped their pants. Yes, that's probably it.

It's a good mindset for both work--both colleagues and the public--and parenting--and spousing; well, for every situation, really.

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Of course, it's not all bad. [Younger], especially, has issues dealing appropriately with his big emotions, so we've had enough calls from the principal at school to dread seeing him on caller ID. Most recently, though, we've had two positive calls sharing "positive office referrals" for him.

[Younger] is such a kind, good friend. A friend was having a hard day and he hugged her, sat with her, and checked on her several times. He always shows such compassion and empathy towards others!

[Younger] walked in a friend who had fallen and hurt themselves on the playground during recess. He was empathetic and worried about her feeling okay. Once peer was assessed and given the OK to return to recess he walked them back outside and I overheard him say, "I will stay with you for the remainder of recess to make sure you are OK." He is such a sweet friend for making sure they were taken care of! Good job, [Younger]!

Sometimes we manage to believe we're actually doing some things right as parents.

Last week I was support for a workshop for teen writers, and the instructors encouraged me to participate. We were doing some quick exercises to get our writing muscles warmed up, and they gave me overwhelmingly positive responses for one of them.

"Write for 5 minutes, in any format, about a mother, father, grandparent, guardian, or mentor figure in your life."

Perhaps the most clearly I saw my dad was at his funeral. He always just was. I didn't spend time reflecting on him, thinking about who he was or what he was to others. He was my dad. Hearing an outpouring of tributes from those he'd impacted helped me appreciate him more deeply than I ever had. Seeing him from their eyes, I saw new dimensions. They were all things I knew--nothing was a surprise--but it gave me new eyes for seeing him.

I was almost jealous, hoping someday people might remember me with the same import and fondness. 

Those thoughts were completely spontaneous and unexpected.

This isn't really about anything else in the post, but I just came upon it and find it a fascinating topic.

The Elephant in the Courtroom

Humanity seems to be edging toward a radical new accommodation with the animal kingdom. In 2013, the government of India banned the capture and confinement of dolphins and orcas, because cetaceans have been proved to be sensitive and highly intelligent, and “should be seen as ‘non-human persons’ ” with “their own specific rights.” The governments of Hungary, Costa Rica, and Chile, among others, have issued similar restrictions, and Finland went so far as to draft a Declaration of Rights for cetaceans. In Argentina, a judge ruled that an orangutan at the Buenos Aires Eco-Park, named Sandra, was a “nonhuman person” and entitled to freedom—which, in practical terms, meant being sent to a sanctuary in Florida. The chief justice of the Islamabad High Court, in Pakistan, asserted that nonhuman animals have rights when he ordered the release of an elephant named Kaavan, along with other zoo animals, to sanctuaries; he even recommended the teaching of animal welfare in schools, as part of Islamic studies. In October, a U.S. court recognized a herd of hippopotamuses originally brought to Colombia by the drug lord Pablo Escobar as “interested persons” in a lawsuit that would prevent their extermination. The Parliament of the United Kingdom is currently weighing a bill, backed by Prime Minister Boris Johnson, that would consider the effect of government action on any sentient animal. . . . 

Having lost the chimpanzee cases in New York, Wise and his team armed themselves with dozens of friend-of-the-court briefs in support of personhood for Happy. One of them came from Laurence Tribe, the Harvard legal scholar. “It cannot pass notice that African Americans who had been enslaved famously used the common law writ of habeas corpus in New York to challenge their bondage and to proclaim their humanity, even when the law otherwise treated them as mere things,” Tribe wrote. “Women in England were once considered the property of their husbands and had no legal recourse against abuse until the Court of King’s Bench began in the 17th century to permit women and their children to utilize habeas corpus to escape abusive men. Indeed, the overdue transition from thinghood to personhood through the legal vehicle of habeas corpus must be deemed among the proudest elements of the heritage of that great writ of liberation.” . . . 

He mentioned that, under U.S. law, the category of personhood is so elastic that “corporations are persons, ships are persons, the City of New York is a person.” Not long before, he noted, a young man had been convicted of vandalizing a car dealership in Seneca Falls. On appeal, the defendant’s lawyer had argued that the prosecution needed to prove a human being had been damaged by the destruction—and that Bill Cram Chevrolet was not a human being. The court ruled that the dealership was a nonhuman person with standing in the court. . . . 

In 1906, seven years after the founding of the Bronx Zoo, a human being was put on display in a cage. Ota Benga, a young man from what was then the Congo Free State, was placed in the primates hall, alongside an orangutan. He had been brought to the United States two years earlier by Samuel Phillips Verner, a missionary from South Carolina. Verner told the tale that he had discovered Benga for sale in a cage, and had purchased him with a bolt of cloth and a pound of salt. What’s certain is that the 1904 St. Louis World’s Fair had commissioned Verner to round up a dozen Pygmies for an anthropology exhibit.

What happened to Ota Benga can be seen as a commentary on the evolving boundaries of personhood. Along with the African tribespeople, the fair included Inuits, with sled dogs and an igloo; Ainu people, from Japan; more than a thousand Filipinos; and two thousand Native Americans. At an exhibit called “Home in the Old Plantation,” Black actors sang minstrel songs. It was a sprawling human zoo. Benga, whose teeth were sharpened into points, as was common among Congolese males, was presented as a “cannibal.” . . . 

Verner met with the zoo’s director, William Temple Hornaday, and offered to loan him a chimpanzee and two reptiles, throwing Benga in as well. Hornaday was thrilled. Days later, zoo-goers found Benga in the primate house . . . 

Given the courts’ demonstrated reluctance to grant personhood status to chimpanzees or to elephants, Happy’s case will likely end where the others did—in an unambiguous rejection of setting such a far-reaching precedent. Since Wise began pursuing personhood litigation, though, judges have repeatedly expressed misgivings, acknowledging in their decisions that animals deserve more protection and consideration; they just believe that the courts are not the place to make such a momentous cultural adjustment. . . . 

“We’re at the beginning of a big ethical awakening,” Martha Nussbaum, the philosopher, told me. “It’s only the beginning, because people are not really prepared to make sacrifices.” She advocates for vegetarianism, smaller families, and the end of the factory-meat industry.

How are we to recalibrate our relationship with animals that live in complex societies and have a sense of themselves as individuals? The question becomes more urgent as the future of such species grows increasingly perilous. They are penned in, harassed and hunted, subjected to experiments, eaten, used in medicines. Zoos and aquariums have certainly been part of the human exploitation of nature, but at this stage they can also act as a reservoir for creatures that have been forced out of their natural environments because of expanding human populations and climate change. Many animals live longer, and more securely, in sanctuaries and nature parks overtly managed by humans than in their bespoiled habitats. Focussing on the indignities of captive elephants or orcas can inadvertently divert attention from the much larger damage civilization has done to the natural world.

The animals I've known in my life have definitely all been persons.

To end on a good note . . . 

Last week a family was touring my new library space--

(Oh, I forgot to mention--in addition to two years of pandemic, my library building was mostly closed for renovations for the past year. So more relaxed Covid measures has coincided with spring weather and a return to having a nice, big library to work in once again full of children. It has been great for my overall mood.)

So, family touring. The parents and I were talking while their teen daughter looked politely bored. Then the mom prompted, "Don't you remember? This is Mr. [Degolar]." Her eyes lit up. She hadn't see me in well over 10 years, but she did finally remember. What she said inspired me to share this Facebook post:

When a teenage girl tells you, "You were my first big celebrity crush," you might be a storytime librarian.

Because librarians become, as often not, a type of celebrity to the little ones who look forward to attending their storytimes each week.