There’s a period of the morning, from about 7 until 9, when I get to hang out with László on my own. I usually wake up earlier and let Danielle catch a couple hours of baby-free sleep. It’s a time I cherish because Laci has a special face he only puts on when he wakes up.
It’s a mushy, tired smile, unforced and unintentional. During the day he smiles at things. He’s starting to choose to smile at things. But these smiles, they’re the kind he might try to hide if he gets older and decides he isn’t a “morning person.”
I’ve never taken a photo of these morning smiles. They’re fast, fleeting, and hard to predict, but I also haven’t tried. We photograph László a lot, and not having this documented in digital memory is a way of keeping this for ourselves. As he gets older, finds friends, and develops a private life, I think the memory of these morning smiles will take on a new meaning, a piece of our lives that only belonged to us and him. In the mean time, they’re something to look forward to every morning when we pick him up out of his bassinet to greet the day.
This is a story that starts with a baby. We welcomed a baby to the family last Friday. Since he was late pre-term we were in the NICU for a few days before being finally discharged on Tuesday afternoon. Before we left, a lactation consultant at the hospital said we should check with our insurance company to see if we qualify for a free breast pump. Most insurance companies cover the purchase of a breast pump with a $0 copay which is great because we need one to help us feed our premature baby.
When I called the insurance company, they said there were providers online where we could order one and have it shipped to our house, and that it usually takes a few days depending on availability. They then sent me a list of in-network providers of “durable medical goods” (DMG) near me who I could reach out to.
This list had three vendors on it. Three. For all of Colorado. I called each of them: One didn’t supply breast pumps anymore. One was actually a Target CVS and was not an in-network DMG provider. The third said we would need to get a prescription from our doctor, fax it to them with proof of insurance, and it would be delivered to us within 7-10 business days.
I’d understand the hassle if a breast pumps were dangerous, like opiods, or hard to transport, like an iron lung, but you can buy literally any breast pump you want at any of the following stores, put it in your car next to the carseat, and go home and feed your baby: CVS, Wallgreens, Target, some grocery stores with large pharmacies, the hospital gift shop where our baby was born, any of the other hospitals in Denver, baby stores like The Mammahood, and probably a few other places I don’t even know about. There are also zillions of them available on Amazon if you can wait a couple days. These are widely available commodities. It shouldn’t be such a hassle to get one to us.
I’d also understand the hassle of breast pumps were expensive, but they’re not. Our insurance will cover up to $165.04 and you can buy a pretty decent one for less than that! So why, then, does it take going through a medical supply company with a prescription to buy something that costs so little? Even if there’s a small amount of waste and fraud in the system, the costs of processing all of the paper work alone must balance out to more unless the insurance company is getting a hell of a deal on these pumps. Think about it, to get this breast pump so far has involved:
An hour of my time on the phone with the insurance company and the in-network providers who can fulfill this benefit.
Roughly an hour total of time spent by doctors, nurses, and medical assistants helping us issue the prescription and navigate the process.
Pump rental while we wait at an (admittedly affordable) rate of $4 per day. If the DMG provider takes the full 10 business days our total not-covered, out-of-pocket, not-FSA/HSA eligible costs will be $68-72.
Time spent processing the claim and prescription on the DMG provider and insurance company’s side.
According to the Bureau of Labor and Statistics, the median hourly wage for a general pediatrician is $90 per hour, $35 per hour for a Registered Nurse, and $52 for a Nurse Practitioner. Given these rates, and how many individuals in each of those professions we’ve talked to about this, it seems likely all of this totals more than $165 in total economic activity. All of this with no promise of any specific brand or type of product, leaving us consumers in the dark about what we might actually get. If we end up with a manual pump, for example, we’ll probably just go out and buy our own electric pump out of pocket.
A common argument against Medicare for all or single payer systems in the US is that private markets are more efficient and therefore provide lower costs. This a large, half-billion dollar insurance company has come up with is far from efficient and at some point consumers who can afford it will give up and buy their own out of pocket and those who can’t will either give up and pay more in rental costs or wait it out and eventually settle for whatever the PPO’s DMG provides.
There’s a much simpler solution if you cut out all the bullshit wrapped up in the business model of preferred provider network-dependent insurance companies. A single payer like Medicare could simply issue a coupon to us for $165.04 and obligate any retail store selling breast pumps to take it much like how grocery stores are obligated to accept SNAP benefits. Then, no matter where you live, or where or how you delivered your baby, you can redeem the benefit you’re entitled to with little economic friction.
Better yet, institutions like hospitals and birthing centers could simply give the mom a pump upon discharge and let CMS know. This option also reduces the risk for fraud because it has a built-in mechanism for verifying whether the person in question did in-fact need a breast pump.
Also, WTF is this $165.04 business. Just round it down to $165.
It’s a good thing your President bailed you out on taking action to end child separation. Despite the fact that he said it was only something Congress could do, he managed to end his own policy of separating children at the border.
I still wonder, sometimes, when I see children peacefully strolling their children in my NW Denver neighborhood, how you can sleep at night knowing you were complicit in allowing our government to forcibly separate children from their parents.
I wonder, when I see children with their parents hiking to an alpine lake, why you declined to put your name on Sen. Feinstein’s bill that was introduced while the President insisted his hands were tied.
When I see children waiting at the airport with their parents of to destinations where they’ll assuredly be allowed to stay together upon arrival, I wonder why you decided a letter to AG Sessions from 12 Senators would be more effective than a bipartisan bill sponsored by 50.
When I see parents drop their kids off at the preschool I pass on my way to work, I wonder what you’re doing today, what you did yesterday, and what you’ll do tomorrow, to reunite these families currently imprisoned by our democratic government. Families who are being denied their liberty.
When I see you brag about being the “8th most bipartisan Senator” I wonder what that means when you fail to reach across the aisle over something so fundamental to humanity — keeping children with their families.
I wonder if you truly believe that people would flee their native countries with their children, risking their lives and permanently abandoning their communities, property, and histories, just to come to our country and commit crimes? How far do you take this theory? Do you also believe asylum seekers are actors? Do you believe every individual attempting to cross the border is definitely a member of MS-13?
Are you aware that MS-13 is a gang that originated in the United States? Are you aware that the violence people are fleeing in Central American countries was originally intimated by the United States?
Coloradans are tired of your 12 senator letters. We’re tired of your acquiescence to the President’s cruelty and acceptance of his falsehoods. We need real action, Senator. We need legislation. We need the majority party to govern. And we needed it last week.
I’m riding with two friends who are also doing their first distance ride ever. I’m balancing nervousness and excitement, trying to keep in mind that even if it’s difficult, it’ll be a beautiful ride and will feel good once we’re done.
I didn’t have workout plans with directions like “Do 2 X 20 minutes. Minutes 1 to 18 for each effort at 90-93% of your FTP”. In part, because a lot of these sites assume you know what FTP means and it wasn’t immediately intuitive to me. But more than that, it didn’t seem like an enjoyable way to prepare for a ride I intend to enjoy, not race.
Many of the longer rides I did were in NW Denver, Wheat Ridge, and Lakewood. The first one followed about 7 miles of the ride’s route into the area north of the Federal Center, I then circled around and came back on a familiar route along Garrison St. through Lakewood and Wheat Ridge.
This was a good endurance training route. It’s long enough that attempting to ride with minimal stopping and it’s built with some distance flexibility. Both trails meander along with convenient exits back into neighborhoods. On this particular route, I cut off on 15th St. to return pretty directly into NW Denver.
One of my co-riders (teammates? we don’t have kits but we’re acting like a team) and I met at REI and followed the route we will ride on Saturday for the middle 40 miles, including a first attempt at the biggest climbs. I wanted to try to tack on the next 20 at some point but ultimately didn’t make it.
I went to visit my brother the weekend of May 20 and took it a little easy on the training while I was there. I rented a commuter bike for the flexibility of using it for getting around and exercise. I think I’d probably spring for a road bike next time because I could really (for the first time) feel the difference in gearing and frame geometry as I rode. Still, it was a good, if exhausting ride, from Seattle to Snohomish. I got in some sustained climbs over steep grades. It was also a beautiful trip through exurban Seattle that made me want to try the STP ride sometime.
In a funny looking ride, I found my way to the Denver-Boulder Turnpike trail and then wound my way back into Denver through the northwestern suburbs. This route gives huge views of the front range and was a great route to re-acclimate to the altitude.
Total weekly mileage: 37.6 miles.
Two weeks before the ride: 81 miles total
Two weeks before the ride I joined my friends or for a trip to Boulder. I think we all would have rode back to Denver if we had 1) started earlier 2) it wasn’t so damn hot and 3) we didn’t stop for a meal in Boulder. We were all pretty creaky by the time we got there but 34 miles was good training for all of us, and the climbing distribution is similar to how we’ll be climbing on Saturday.
One thing I knew I had to get better at before the big ride was climbing, especially in short, steep bursts. I did one high altitude ride, attempting to reach Loveland Pass (on my birthday). I was really not ready for that kind of ride but I managed to make it about 6 miles up before I was out of water and time. Sure was pretty up there though.
The more meaningful interval work I did was repeatedly riding up and over the Regis hill, starting at Lowell Blvd, and working my way west. It’s a little hard to describe concisely but the Strava map shows the short bursts of steep climbing spaced by longer descents and gentle climbs back up on the next block. These rides had the effect of pushing my heart rate and muscles for short periods spaced with long active recovery sessions. The last time I attempted this, I managed a PR on the climb back up Lowell which felt pretty great. I’m hoping it help with the more residential, suburban parts of the ride where the roads are steeper and often seem to have stoplights at the top.
Denver Food Rescue
It’s not about the training but it certainly helped my train: I started riding for Denver Food Rescue this summer. In total, I think I’ve hauled about a ton of food on my own bike, and in total, me and fellow riders have easily rescued 5 tons of food since I started in May. I think I carried about 300 pounds last weekend. Learn more about Denver Food Rescue and how to ride with them on their website! Here’s a picture of my DFR trailer loaded up last weekend.
Are we ready?
I’m as ready as I’ll be! I think no matter how many mile I logged, I’d still feel like there was one more ride I could have done to help me prepare. The ride starts at 6AM Saturday morning!
I recently read first in a series of posts by The NY Times Crossword writers about how to make a crossword. It kicks off the series covering the most important part of a crossword: the theme. I was inspired enough by it to try my hand at creating my own crossword.
I’m calling it Battle of the Bands and I’m mostly pleased with it. If you’d like, download it and try to solve it!
There are spoilers below for the crossword so if you want to solve it first stop reading now!
As the article says, the key to a theme is finding matched length pairs of clues that relate to each other in a common theme way. Iteration is a good strategy for theming a puzzle. For example, mine started with “punk bands from Minnesota” as the theme. I thought HUSKERDU (8) would make a good anchor clue. I started writing down different band names in that format: DILLINGERFOUR (14) HOLDSTEADY (10) REPLACEMENTS (12) LIFTERPULLER (12) SOULASYLUM (10) SUBURBS (7) but couldn’t come up with any other (notable) bands with 8 letter names. I briefly considered LFTRPLLR but thought he lack of vowels could be a problem.
So I expanded the theme to become “punk bands from DC and Minnesota,” which expanded the field a bit with possibles like BADBRAINS (9) MINORTHREAT (11) FUGAZI (6) BLACKFLAG (9) STATEOFALERT (12) ROLLINSBAND (11). It’s worth mentioning there are still no 8 letter names in there so I had to jettison the Hüskers.
Ultimately, I found myself with two 9 letter clues and two 10 letter clues. They also happened to match each other in terms of where they’re from: BADBRAINS and BLACKFLAG (9) and HOLDSTEADY and SOULASYLUM (10).
The puzzlemasters Tausig and Vigeland gave a few hard rules about how puzzles should be arranged but not enough that I had any real idea of what I was doing was correct — I’ll have to wait for part 2, I suppose.
One thing I learned from the post was that symmetry is one of a few hard rules of crossword construction. This turns out to be a useful rule that creates the blockiness of a typical crossword puzzle. I grabbed some graph paper and positioned the two longer answers in the middle of puzzle and the shorter ones toward the top and bottom. Suddenly I had a few distinct regions in the puzzle and I could start cramming it with full words.
Finding fill words was as hard as figuring them out in a published crossword. Harder even, it was also the part I had no idea about. I didn’t have much of a strategy beyond looking up different patterns on onelook.com. I’m hoping subsequent posts in the series will have some more advice about how to determine how much black space is too much, how to decide whether “cosswordese” or foreign words are appropriate, and other puzzle construction tips.
Anyway, here it is, the first crossword puzzle. It’s got it’s faults but I think it turned out alright for a pilot! Let me know if you solve it and have any advice!
I’ve been fascinated by Gerrymandering since I took it up as the topic of a Human Geography class in my sophomore year of college. It’s an amazingly complicated topic that is often oversimplified. It’s also suddenly in the national spotlight. Three Supreme Court decisions this year will shape how we talk about redistricting and representation in our republic for decades. Earlier this year in Pennsylvania, the Court declined to hear a challenge from Republicans over a lower court decision that the current maps were unconstitutional. Back in October, the court heard arguments from Democrats against the Republican drawn map in Wisconsin that delivered a two-thirds majority to the party in recent elections. The court is preparing to hear from Republicans in Maryland about partisan gerrymanders in their state that favor Democrats.
Arguments about whether and how Gerrymandering has a place in American politics gets at the core of what it means to have a representative federalist system of government. Saying they are always evil or always good does a disservice to the deeper questions at play: How do you ensure racial minorities aren’t mapped out of existence, for example. How do you encourage underrepresented groups to be politically active when the map is drawn against them? Questions like these and more are hotly debated and essential to the health of our republic.
99 Percent Invisible’s recent episode about Gerrymandering really unpacked the controversy over the practice and what’s making it such a hot topic now. It’s a great episode that treats the issue with the carefulness and thought it deserves. Check it out: https://99percentinvisible.org/episode/gerrymandering/
I just finished Do You Remember, a podcast chronicling the life of the band Hüsker Dü, from Minnesota Public Radio’s The Current and have to say it was a great listen. It’s a short, five episode series, featuring interview audio from all three members of the legendary punk band, including what is probably the last recorded interview Grant Hart did before he died last September.
Among the things I loved about this podcast was learning little things I never knew about the band. Like how the band met at Cheapo Records in St. Paul. How Bob Mould was a Macalester student and planned to go back home for the summer because the band wasn’t getting any gigs. That is, until Grant booked them a show on the sly just to keep him in town. And how the band was sort of the first music internet start up with Bob using email to advance venues about upcoming shows before they arrived in town. The conflicts that kept the band going and ultimately broke them up.
I didn’t grow up with Hüsker Dü but I knew of them by way of The Hold Steady’s We Can Get Together (“There’s a girl on Heaven Hill / I come up to her cabin still / She said Hüsker Dü got cool / They started in St. Paul / Do you Remember Makes No Sense At All”) and later Bob Mould’s more recent solo work. Discovering the Hüskers later in life, their sound doesn’t make me wistful for their career, but reminds me of what I love about home.
Like their punk and hardcore contemporaries in the DC hardcore scene, the Hüskers and their main rival, The Replacements, together defined a particular sound that permeated through the Twin Cities scene — characterized by the climate, culture, and economy of the place. I knew bands that still sounded like the Hüskers when I was a kid, and I know some of them still today. If you were to ask me what the Twin Cities sounds like, I’d probably throw on my 7″ of In a Free Land I got at Record Store Day three years ago and follow it with some Prince. The Hüskers are the clustered up clever kids at the Triple Rock (RIP) on a February night; Prince, the weird, androgynous kids front row at First Avenue for the headliner. Either way, you’re having a music experience uniquely Minnesotan.
Listening to the podcast, I thought a lot about my uncle who bounced around different bands in the same era and my own peers who picked up guitars and started making noise decades later. The kids that wouldn’t let not being able to afford Marshall stacks or expensive music lessons stop them from being in a band. They had a sound and a story to share and damn if they weren’t going to share it. It’s the kind of stories I hope my own kids can hear when they find my sticker-riddled guitar from middle school, plug it into the 12 Watt amp, and start jamming.
Even if you don’t know the first thing about punk music or Hüsker Dü or the Twin Cities, give this podcast a listen.
Today was my last day at 18F, the startup-like agency inside the U.S General Services Administration I joined back in September 2014. When I joined I wrote: “Working with a team of talented individuals to create a more open, transparent, and accessible government is a cause close to my heart.” That’s still true. It’s also true that, four years in, nobody has used their political clout or tenure to shut it down as was foretold to me by a former colleague.
It might be easy to see my leaving as politically driven by the administration change. It is not. While there are more politically appointed individuals overseeing 18F and TTS’s work than when I started, any notion that the organization was taken over by the White House, or that they are now expected to be White House loyalists, is overblown. We took an oath to protect and uphold the Constitution and that includes the 14th Amendment which promises equal protection under the law. No American should see their government services degraded just because the people who deliver it happen to disagree with the people setting the policy. There’s a broader academic argument but it’s not for this post.
I’m leaving because my term is almost up and when I look back on it, it’s kind of staggering how much I’ve gotten to work on over the last 3 years, 4 months, and 9 days at 18F.
I was part of the team that figured out what the 18F website needed to do for people and rebuilt it basically from scratch to better serve the agencies trying to work with us. I didn’t do much (any?) of the building, but my team knocked it out of the park.
I helped the team that implemented the United States’ first open data law write about how they got every federal agency in the government to report spending data in the same way. It’s called the DATA Act, and it was a massive undertaking. See their work: https://beta.usaspending.gov/#/ and learn more about it: https://18f.gsa.gov/tags/data-act/
More recently I worked with the cloud.gov team build a Platform as a Service designed to comply with federal policy. It’s the first fully open source product to be authorized by FedRAMP. For the layperson reading this, it’s a big damn deal. FedRAMP is the federal cloud services equivalent to a boundary waters outfitter telling you to go with the WeNoNah canoe. You still need to decide if it’s right for you but it’s a strong endorsement.
I learned a lot about how government contracting works, enough to know that I’ll never come close to knowing everything. I scratched the surface working with the team behind CALC, a market research tool that helps contracting officers determine a fair market price for professional services.
And then there’s all the things that happened while I was at 18F. Even if I didn’t get to help build or write about them, it was inspiring to be on the same team as those folks.
The federal government employs some of the most talented individuals I’ve ever worked with. They’re motivated by honest and passionate service to the American public. That was what I signed onto when I joined in 2014 and, though many of the faces behind it have changed, that spirit remains.
As for me, I’m off to Automattic where I’ll continue working for a passionate, open source team helping WordPress.com customers have a great experience with a product I’m passionate about. WordPress helps people around the world tell their story, whether it’s an individual food blogger or a major newspaper.
A couple years ago we found a copy of Richard Wright’s famous novel Native Son tucked into the corner of a Goodwill’s book section. It sat on the shelf and in the queue of both our long reading lists until I finally decided to pick it up this year. I’ve been a pretty slow reader lately so it took me a while to get through the book but I’m glad I took the time to read it.
About halfway through the book I started wondering why it took me until I read Ta-nehisi Coates’s Between the World and Me to know who Richard Wright was. This book was just as good if not better than the classics we read in high school like Brave New World, Of Mice and Men, The Great Gatsby, and All Quiet on the Western Front — some of these authors are even Wright’s contemporaries. Why not include a book that wrestles with the same weighty societal mores but from the perspective of a black artist in 1940s Chicago? The answer is surely nuanced and multi-faceted but part of it surely had to do with the fact that our district’s English curriculum was largely, if not entirely, set by white people.
Native Son is a book about power, violence, fear, and survival. It’s a book about how crimes and criminals are created in the hearts and minds of society reflecting onto individuals. It’s about words and actions speaking louder than money. And it’s also about an anti-hero, Bigger Thomas, a black man in Chicago who accidentally kills a white woman.
From the beginning of the book, Wright doesn’t set you up to love Bigger. He’s cruel to his sister, his mother, his friends, pretty much everybody else in his life. He gets offered a job in a wealthy white household to be their chauffeur and through an escalating set of circumstances, ends up killing their daughter. Wright’s narration throughout these events helps you understand Bigger’s actions, reactions, and perspective on the lot was dealt and ultimately keeps him sympathetic, even if you’re never fully rooting for him.
Aside from the beautiful writing, what struck me most about the book was how little has changed. You don’t hear about vigilante mobs coming after black men accused of committing crimes against white people now, but you do hear them dehumanized with a lot of the same language used by the newspapers and white people in Native Son. You still see well meaning white people “giving a chance” to black people they perceive as “troubled” while simultaneously reinforcing systems of oppression against those same populations.
There’s a myth a lot of northern people still believe that slavery, racism, and segregation didn’t exist in states that didn’t secede during the civil war and Native Son does a good job of exposing and showing just how those systems worked in big northern cities like Chicago. Wright shows how housing discrimination was much more than the redlining policies where mortgages weren’t given to people who lived in certain parts of the city. It was also a systemic practice of refusing to rent in certain parts of the city to black families.
Mr. Dalton, the well-to-do white man who hires Bigger as a driver, was also his family’s landlord. During his trial, Bigger’s attorney questions Dalton asking why he charges more in rent to black families than white families. His answer, there’s more demand for housing in black neighborhoods which drives up rent. His attorney follows up to ask why Dalton refuses to let black families rent in white neighborhoods with lower rent he calls it a matter of practice and tradition. Thus the Black Belt of 1930s Chicago was created through a systemic practice of segregation that raised rents on disproportionately poorer black families, and reinforced by the practice of redlining those wealthier families out of home ownership opportunities. Today, gentrification carries on this legacy in many cities.
Those same policies lead to prejudices and Wright doesn’t let you forget that Bigger was born and became an adult believing he embodied the stereotypes he was born into. He saw himself a certain kind of person: black, a criminal, and in poverty, facing a world full of those like him and others. And when you’re born believing you’re a certain way, it’s hard to see many other possibilities. We still struggle with this problem today. We see it in unemployment rates, standardized test scores, patterns of gentrification, access to social services, voting rights… the list goes on an on. We also still see white savior types like Mr. Dalton throwing money at communities or rushing to give people a “chance” without understanding the underlying human condition.
All in all, Native Son was a sad story reflecting a sad reality that hasn’t changed much in the intervening 77 years since it was published. Heartbreaking is how I think about Bigger, his family, his friends, the Daltons, and the City of Chicago portrayed in the book. It’s also the word I use when I think about Jamar Clark, Tamir Rice, their families, all the white folks (probably including me!) who try to fix when they should be listening, and all the systems that still keep minorities apart, unequal, and disenfranchised.
Yesterday in the wake of another comedian and powerful person, Sen. Al Franken, being accused of sexual indiscretions, a piece I saw shared by a lot of smart people was by Lindy West in the New York Times called “Why Men Aren’t Funny. Eventually, I found time to read it and I largely agree with it, especially the final conclusion that the comedy industry props up an immensely patriarchal system that masquerades as a meritocracy. That seems super obvious to me, and I agree that the solution is to prop up comics — and other professionals — who “are not male, not straight, not cisgender, not white.”
One thing that made me pause in West’s piece was her astonishment at Marc Maron’s apparent ignorance of this patriarchy.
A great many people have been pointing out women’s disadvantages in comedy for a very long time. Those people are called women. In return, we’ve been abused, discredited, blacklisted, turned into punch lines and driven out of the industry.
I don’t find this surprising both as a Maron listener and as a person of significant privilege. I am all of male, straight, cisgender, and white (MSCW), after all. It’s not to excuse Maron’s ignorance to say it’s not surprising. It is tremendously easy to be blinded by your own privilege, even if someone confronts you with it. I’ve encountered fellow MSCWs who are staggered when they’re confronted with these realities and so ignorant to them they can’t even imagine how to make it right. These are people I look up to at work in many ways. They’re people I admire for their ingenuity, but they’re blind to the broader scope of their privilege in the workplace.
Maron might be a perfect example of how easy it is to be blinded by privilege. I lost track of how many times he said something like “you’ve paid your dues, you know the deal,” to a comic guest — especially one from the old guard. He’s congratulated comics who “paid their dues” and worked out his prejudices against comics who didn’t pay their dues or found success some other way. Yet, despite the evidence, he still sees (or perhaps saw) “paying your dues” as an important part of being a professional comic. Listening to it, it sounds like he has an agenda, a worldview he’s trying to reinforce; it sounds a lot like the way other MSCWs justify their biases and prejudices about the other parts of the world.
It’s an easy trap to assume the system that worked for you works equitably for all even when you know it doesn’t. Failing to understand how others are locked out those systems, and rejecting evidence to the contrary is the definition of hegemonic privilege. It’s the same trap that allows white folks to reach the conclusion that all black kids need to do to avoid being shot by police is pull up their pants, stop looking like gangsters, and hanging around with thugs. It’s really easy for a white person to say, “well my kid’s been arrested a couple times and he didn’t get shot because he cooperated with the police. Just ask Bill Cosby, he knows!” to dismiss the overwhelming evidence that black youth are disproportionately targets of arrest and police violence.
It’s the trap of our default setting and it’s imperative for all of us to go out of our way to toggle that setting toward empathy. After the election, I saw a lot of people saying that over thanksgiving we MSCWs needed to start talking to our relatives who overwhelmingly supported Trump. We need to do a lot more than talking, and we need to talk to the ones who supported Hillary, too. Maron isn’t the only person to embody otherwise progressive viewpoints while propping up problematic power structures, and comedy clearly isn’t the only industry. We need to be confronting our people stuck on their default settings wherever they are, whenever it happens.