RBG

Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg — here in her chambers during a 2019 interview with NPR’s Nina Totenberg — died on Friday at the age of 87.
Shuran Huang/NPR

I don’t really think of myself as a person with heroes, but, I guess I have a few, and RBG would be one of them.

If you click on the photo above, you’ll end up over at National Public Radio (NPR) which is the only place you should end up, IMHO (in my humble opinion) simply because reporter Nina Totenberg has been so complete and so kind in her coverage of all the justices as long as I can remember. No other news source has covered the SCOTUS more thoroughly, and more fairly than Nina and NPR. (And this is me, doing exactly like I tell my students not to do, talking about Nina, as if we were buds. And it is exactly something Nina never does.)

There are so many outsized and amazing things about RBG. She survived in a women-hating world (law) at a very young age. She argued 6 times before an all-male SCOTUS herself. She was married for 50 or so years to the genuine love of her life. She went to work, and back to work, over and over, from her 20s to her 80, during real challenges in her husband’s health, her own health, and other family issues, when lesser people would have given in. One thing that everyone is remarking on, she was friends with Justice Scalia, a name I can barely type without anger rising in my gullet. This is something few in politics can even imagine today, being friends with their ideological opposite. She was beyond extraordinary.

Well, if you’re going to pick a hero for yourself, Pearce, might as well pick a super-hero.

Women in the USA owe her so much, and many don’t even realize it.

“Ginsburg is the rare supreme court justice whose most significant work was done before she joined the court. She changed the course of American law not as a supreme court justice, but as a lawyer, the founder and general counsel of the ACLU’s Women’s Rights Project. Ginsburg began the project in 1972, the same year she joined the faculty of Columbia Law as a professor; by 1974, the project had participated in nearly 300 gender discrimination cases nationwide. Ginsburg personally argued six gender discrimination cases before the then all-male supreme court, winning five. She built on her victories one by one, establishing precedents that made future victories easier to win.

First was Reed v Reed (1971), a monumental victory that struck down an Idaho law favoring men over women in estate battles. That case extended the Equal Protection Clause of the 14th amendment to women, barring laws that discriminated by sex. Ginsburg followed this case with victories in Frontiero v Richardson (1973), barring gender discrimination in compensation of military members, and Weinberger v Wiesenfeld (1975), striking down gender discrimination in state benefits. Her tactics were savvy; she framed gender discrimination in ways that made the practice seem unreasonable even to hardened misogynists. In Craig v Boren, she successfully convinced the court that state laws that distinguished on the basis of sex needed to be subjected to at least what was called “intermediate” scrutiny; she won the decision not by arguing for women to have equal freedom to men, but equal obligations. In Weinberger, she managed to get a discriminatory practice deemed illegal largely by virtue of finding a rare case in which the victim of sex discrimination was a man.

These victories, coming down between the years 1971 and 1976, forced laws to change nationwide. It is impossible to overstate their impact. One moment, much of family, tax, and financial law was made of statutes that codified men as breadwinners and beneficiaries, women as dependents. Within just five years, all these laws were declared unconstitutional. At the time the supreme court first ruled in Ginsburg’s favor, in Reed v Reed in 1971, many banks still would not issue women credit cards. By the end of it, her work had helped to usher in a feminist revolution that has changed the face of American families and expanded the possibilities for American women’s lives.” (https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2020/sep/18/ruth-bader-ginsburg-death-legacy-supreme-court)

And, I have to tell you, it is this lack of understanding of what women haven’t had that has often caused me to be frustrated with or disheartened by the young women I teach. I was an adjunct at the University of Delaware I cannot easily count how many young women told me that men, like Bernie (big Bernie fans there among the ladies) would be better presidents than women because men are just better at it. And, when I was teaching at Santa Ana College, a large number of the young women I taught there would say how men should make more money than their wives, and the women should take their husbands’ lasts names, because when women make more money or keep their last names, men feel badly, and they feel not manly, and women have to help with that.

I remember when I was a college student myself, and living in a neighborhood at University of Penn (though not attending… too expensive for my family to even consider), in an apartment surrounded apartments occupied by white male students, how harassed I was for my Mondale/Ferraro poster. I faced a verbal confrontation almost daily, and had my apartment windows broken, because the guys at Penn were losing their minds over the mere possibility that a woman might become VEEP.

Of course, Mondale and Ferraro were running against Reagan/Bush. And those were dark times for women. Nancy Reagan certainly popularized a shut-up and stand-by-your man ethos. Women, at least many white women, believed her. The movement lost momentum, and women who had once marched must not have told their daughters in any meaningful way about what they hadn’t had before. Of course, that is an assumption, but, I have been teaching incoming freshman at colleges and universities since 1991, in urban and suburban and rural settings, and women do not seem to see a problem with their situations when it comes to gender equality, and that is a huge loss.

And that is why we need a SCOTUS that looks to the future, that sees the needs for society that society cannot see for itself, and which was a major problem with RGB’s friend, Scalia. He felt The Constitution was a dead document. And it is, in so much as it was written to be complete to the best of the imaginations of the men who wrote it at the time. However, the fact that they immediately attached a Bill of Rights to it shows them setting a precedent for revision.

RGB was able to see that women needed their own rights cemented into law, so that they would never be in question again.

I am very afraid of being emotionally wounded in the coming weeks and months, as people attack RGB from both the left and the right. From the left they will say she should have stepped down when Obama was in office, as if her career was not her own, as if she still had not earned the right, as a women, to fully own her own career. And from the right they will say any horrible thing they can think of to smear a woman who earned every single accomplishment in her life with blood sweat and tears, unlike our despicable POTUS who has only ever broken a sweat after eating fast food, or while paying for sex.

RGB was a very very successful woman. She was a very very intelligent and educated woman. She was a beloved friend, mother, wife, grandmother. She was a beloved Justice. She was a champion of the underserved and under-heard.

She was my hero.

And I feel the world has lost a bit of its magic now that she is gone.

THE THIRD AND FINAL GIFT WE GOT FROM THE JEFFERSON SCHOOL

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(Sophie and her bells & Mouse)

The third and final gift we got from The Jefferson School (TJS) is the music teacher from the charter school we did not get admitted to.

I am not gonna mention the teacher by name; I don’t want to get anyone into trouble, but I cannot ignore what a great gift this teacher has been to our lives.

During the school year the teacher started teaching Sophie the xylophone, also known as mallets or bells. When we went on quarantine, the teacher skipped right over into Zoom like a life-long Zoom user. It was seamless.

We still thought (remember the lied to part from post # 1 on this topic) that Sophie was getting into the charter school, so we asked the teacher, now on Zoom, to also give Sophie piano lessons, as our local piano teacher quit about a year ago. The answer was yes.

When I tearfully told the teacher that Sophie had not gotten into the charter school, the teacher was also tearful, and agreed to keep teaching her… forever.

She has two lessons a week with this sweet and talented teacher and she has flourished. Her playing is wonderful. We cannot thank this teacher enough!

And so,

when everyone is screaming that they want their kids back in school no matter what,

and when people make arbitrary decisions about who gets into which school and who doesn’t,

it is a failure to treat the students or their teachers as human beings, with feelings and attachments and needs of their own.

I hope that, if the charter school goes back to business live and in person, Sophie’s teacher will be safe. I hope this teacher means as much to that school as our teacher certainly does to us.

 

MOUSE

mouse

This is Mouse.

As you can see quite easily he is debonair, civically-minded, and a sucker for cookies.

Mouse has been in our house about 11 years now, and his personality has evolved as he’s grown up. Once syrupy sweet (and a bit boring, if I’m honest, dear Mouse, with a voice to match) he has grown-up a bit and in the nicest way. His voice is still a high-pitched, for he is a very tiny fellow, but it has a certain mellowness to it that is so nice. And, being more grown-up, he doesn’t pull any punches with us anymore. If, say, we forget to include him in the cookie dispersal, or he is left behind on the sofa instead of snuggled into bed, he will often say to us, “You bastards! I’ll cut you!” I know it sounds a bit violent, but it’s just Mouse. We know he’s just kidding. And given his petite stature, we can understand that he may wish to make himself as difficult as possible to ignore. I mean, no one wants to miss out on peanut butter cookies, or snuggling under the covers. Mouse demands not to be ignored, and in a world were the little things are often bulldozed over, we are so glad that Mouse makes us pay attention.

THE SECOND OF THREE GIFTS WE GOT FROM THE JEFFERSON SCHOOL

IMG_1460The second gift we got from The Jefferson School (TJS) would be Atty, the class pet.

Soon after our daughter transitioned from the 5th grade class to the 4th grade class at TJS, I went in for parent-teacher conferences, which was my first time in the 4th grade classroom.

There, in the corner on the floor, was a fetching young lady named Atticus Finch, or Atty, for short.

Atty is a most beautiful and possibly 2-3 year old guinea pig, the (former) class pet.

For me, it was love at first site.

I immediately offered to take her with us over Christmas break, and etc., and the teacher was happy to have us do it, as her dog did not tolerate Atty coming home with her.

So, Atty stayed with us over Christmas, making our Christmas so much sweeter, and I could hardly bear to return her when school began again.

And then…

Coronavirus.

The school asked us if we could keep her during the shut down. Of course, we could.

But what began as, I expected, a few weeks, turned into the entire second half of school. We felt, as a family, that Atty was now a part of our family, and we hoped we would not have to return her.

Finally, a few days before TJS closed. the school told us the happy news that we could keep her.

Our family joke is that I say we have three GPs, and I call them by these names:

Pigness (Atty)

Baby Pigness (Sugar)

and Favorite Pigness (Sophie).

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During our time with Atty, Sophie and I have done a lot of research on Guinea pigs. We learned that they are NOT from Guinea. They are from Peru where they live their lives as pets, food, and shamanic healers. They are important and revered, just like Atty (though we will never eat Atty, I do feel that she has provided me with some shamanic healing).

We learned they need vitamin C in everything, so they don’t get scurvy. Though they might like to play pirate, they do not want to be one and die from scurvy! (Or walk the plank!)

We also learned from Sophie, the mole on the inside, that, while in the classroom, Atty was often forced to ride in Lego cars, and the like, by the boys, and generally handled roughly. That she had been donated by a school family who thought better of owning her, and that she was, of course, given away a second time, to us.

There should not be any such thing as class pets, IMHO.

Animals have feelings and fears and loves, and to subject them to long weekends (or even closed weeks, or days with no heat during snow events) is cruel. To buy and commit to an animal and then throw it away, is cruel. To keep an animal as school pet but not take care of its dietary needs, or to allow children to be rough and self-serving with it, is cruel.

Since Atty has come to us one other thing we have learned is that Guinea pigs are very social pack animals, and so we rescued another one, this time from the pet store as our local shelter had none, and Atty is no longer lonely. She shares her home with Sugar. Sugar came to us with a severely infected eye, and it took quite some time, and quarantining from Atty, to get her healthy. And they both now get vitamin C supplements in their treats and water. And there is always hay, so Atty never has to worry about a long weekend with not enough hay and deadly GI stasis. And she never has to worry that she will be alone or cold or hungry or given away ever again.

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Atty and Sugar are victims of the pet trade, and we cannot stop the pet trade, but we can insure that two little ladies are living their best lives from now on.

WHAT MY BROTHER WAS BEST AT

bill and sophie

After playing guitar, probably being silly was his second-best skill.

When someone is gone, well, you can’t spend your life wrapped-up in every photo of them ever, but you can curate a very special grouping that do their best to encapsulate the magic that was your special person.

This one shows the charm that my brother had, charm that his niece seems to have inherited. I feel as if the two of them are inviting us on a cruise ship each time I see this photo. Tonight’s onboard cocktail is a Shirley-Temple-Moe-Larry-&-Curly…. a glass, half rum, half Coke, one fresh-faced cherry, three assorted nuts.

BLACKBERRIES!

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One thing I seem to have a knack for growing…. all over my HOA-allowed white plastic fence, blackberries! Take that white plastic!

This looks to be about half of this year’s crop, which was enough to share with some friends.

There are just as many red ones still on the vines… waiting to ripen and be crushed between our teeth!

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THE FIRST OF THREE GIFTS WE GOT FROM THE JEFFERSON SCHOOL

TJS

One thing I will swear on a stack of Bibles to anyone who asks me is that Principle Beth Conaway (whose son was convicted of and is serving time for rape) once told me, when I told her that my daughter’s bully could not be in the same classroom as her, and I quote, “Bullies have rights too.”

So, to Dr. Conaway, no, they don’t.

And so, in June of 2019, Dave and I came to the financially very difficult decision that our local public school would no longer work for us.

And we enrolled, for our last year of elementary school, in The Jefferson School.

I knew we couldn’t afford it for even one year.

I knew we couldn’t afford it indefinitely at all.

But, since Dr. Conaway feels that it is fine for bully’s rights to supersede the rights of their victims, I knew we had no choice but to try. (and Cape School District, shame on you. How many school districts do you know where the elementary principle is the mother of a convicted rapist?  By the way, where is that circular filing cabinet where you put all of our bullying reports?)

In any case, after a month at The Jefferson School (TJS) we discovered that our child had been so under-served that we had no choice but to move her back a year. So, instead of one last year of elementary school and then try the public middle school, TWO more years of elementary school.

Okay. We think we can skip the mortgage every other month and not get foreclosed for… awhile.

I mean, I’m a parent, what other choice can I make?

And so, we were repeating 4th grade.

And in a repeat of 4th grade at TJS our daughter blossomed.

Grades got better.

Confidence soared.

She told me just yesterday that her birthday at TJS was the best birthday she ever had at school, ever. I mean, what is home-ownership compared to that? You just can’t put a price on it.

But, it was soon after she transitioned to 4th grade that we learned that the school was closing. We hadn’t been told when we enrolled. What we were told, when we were finally told, was that we were all being transferred to the local charter school.

Of course that didn’t happen.

The children who got into the charter school where, first and foremost, the children of the head of the TJS board, the very board who negotiated the sale of the private school to the charter school district. The guy, a former Dogfish Head beer bigwig named, appropriately, Benz, got his kids in, but beyond his kids about 4 more TJS kids got in in total.

Fine.

The lottery, after the siblings of kids already in the charter school were all admitted, was supposedly random.

Was it “fair and random?” Is that how Benz’ kids got in? Fairly and randomly? Maybe. Well, and maybe they are luckier than us. Rich kids usually are.

How would we peons ever know? Some things in life are unknowable, and un-win-able.

And so, here we found ourselves faced with a terrible, for us, decision. Send our kid back to a school where bullies have more rights than victims,  or homeschool.

So, we’re going to homeschool.

And this is where I, finally, come back to the first thing we got from TJS.

From TJS we learned that, yes, we can homeschool. The teachers at TJS were lovely, and invested, and accommodating. We never missed a day from the shutdown, and they taught our daughter that she could self-teach, and they taught us that we could successfully be stuck at home with our daughter all day, and it could be productive time all shut-in together.

So, though I initially quite literally lost it when I realized we couldn’t go to the charter school, and that we had been lied to, over and over, by TJS management, we were gifted the framework and experience to homeschool, and I think, though it is not ideal for our active and social daughter, we can do it. We certainly cannot go back to her public school.

And then, coronavirus…

Even if she had gotten in to the charter school, I do NOT want her going into a pandemic zone. And, had we gotten in, I think I would have felt so afraid of losing the spot, that I would have sent her, putting her life or my mom’s life at risk, and quarantining from my own mother. So the hard decision about whether or not to send our kid our to school, it is not even on my plate, and for that, I am grateful, because I truly feel, based on the science about the virus, the return to the classroom is foolhardy.

So, TJS was a great school. Sophie was a goat-keeper there (yes, she tended the goats), and she will miss it,  I think.

But, we will be safer, if not in a perfect bubble, in our little world this year, because we will not be in a school full of kids, and so many possible avenues to the virus.

As you know, if you read my little blog, my brother just died quite unexpectedly, and that leaves my mother, my sister, and I in my family, and we cannot take any more loss this year.

But we do not have to give up school, or choose health over school, because the TJS teachers gifted us with such a nice model of how to run ourselves at home, and taught our daughter that she can learn, and she is intelligent, and she doesn’t have to give her bully more rights than she gives herself.

And who do we have to thank for this? The school itself?

No.

The school management?

No.

The teachers.

May the teachers who taught our daughter be safe during this pandemic, and may all school districts know some sense and not give into parental bullying, and keep their teachers safe, and at home, until this pandemic is managed or vaccinated.

KEPT ON LOOKING FOR MY BROTHER IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT

CBB

I am not doing well with anger these days, and anger is, in general, a very uncomfortable feeling for me.

I don’t think any single person could have saved or changed my brother’s life beyond my brother, and I think he needed much more time to do it. We’re late bloomers in my family. Maybe that’s why I enjoy publishing older authors.

So, no one could have saved him.

But my sister-in-law still could have had the balls, to use the very sexist and angry term, to call and tell us he was ill. Instead of waiting until he was on a vent in the hospital and you know he can’t get angry with you, you spill it, because you have enough of a moral compass and a thought to the world outside of yourself that you say, no man, these people have a right to know.

The nicest thing I can do for my brother right now is not talk to her. He wouldn’t want me to be angry at her, and I am, very. I don’t think we could have saved him, but we could have said, “What’s going on? We love you. You’re important to us.” We got to say nothing, and all we can do now is hope he knew.

In your own life, be brave enough to know when to make someone angry. Don’t be a coward.

And so I spend all night waking up and thinking of him, wishing he’d had more time, looking for a sign in the middle of the night.

In any case, enjoy this adorable Top of the Pops video of the CBB, when fashion was really fashion. 😉

It’s the little dumb things that get you through the middle of the night.

COULDN’T GET IT RIGHT

FORMER TINY PERSON AND FORMER DOG

ChaddyOh, came across this brief but wonderful video of Sophie, when she was tiny, and Chad, my late, great dog.

WATCH

I still have Sophie in her 11 year old self, but I miss my tiny Sophie and my Chad Roscoe enormously.

Life, so wonderful and bittersweet.

TIGER LILY GIRL

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There’s something about this flower.

You can see it growing in a ditch on the side of a nowhere rural road.

You can whiz by it on a highway, the petals bobbing in the drag from the cars and shaking off the exhaust as they soak up the sun and reflect the light out and about, bouncing it off the car windows.

IMG_9085But, try and grow it at home, and you may find it near impossible to locate. If you do find some to plant, it starts off shy, and skinny, and then, when you give it some love, it takes over, pushing to the front, looking for the love, the applause from the crowd.

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It’s probably my favorite flower as it has my two favorite colors (orange and green) and polka dots, and those dots, in my opinion, are purple, which would be my third color choice. This flower knows me. And this flower is definitely on its way to a party. Not a bar, not a dance, a party, one of those parties in a crappy apartment that rattles to its bones every twenty minutes when the EL goes by; one of those parties that you walk to in shoes not suited to the cobblestones and ruts; one of those parties where the world outside smells like trash and cold wet cardboard, and the world inside that very important party smells like garlic and hot rice and too much cologne. The party is dark, not because of atmosphere, but because the tenant only owns two lamps, and people smoke unreservedly, and someone smokes cloves, and one intensely serious boy is in charge of the music, and all night long it’s slow, and moody, and alternative, and you’ve never heard any of it before, which makes him seem dark and mysterious and unknowable, and, then, he plays your favorite song.

Tiger Lily Girl  

Sweet obscenity…