A Lifetime of Pride Awaits

  

Nathaniel turned four months old last week.

And I’m already a proud papa.

Of course, he isn’t really doing that much right now. But why should I let that stop me?

Here’s a list of some of things I’m proud about my baby:

I’m proud of how big he is: Nathaniel scared us a bit at the hospital—he lost a lot of weight after he was born, and wasn’t waking up for feedings. But now he’s a veritable giant! 96th percentile for weight, and literally off the charts for height (28 inches long!). Anyone have advice for raising a jock baby?

I’m proud of what a great observer he is: Whenever we go out, Nathaniel is incredibly well-behaved. He almost never fusses in public, but he also rarely smiles in public either. Instead, he gets this thoughtful, observant look on his face and just silently soaks everything in.

Then we get home and it’s silly-town. But not in public. He’s not an animal.

I’m proud of how strong he is: Almost from the get-go, Nathaniel has been very strong. He was holding his neck up and looking around even while we were still in the hospital.

I’m proud of what a great sleeper he is: Don’t kill me, fellow parents, but Nathaniel basically started sleeping through the night immediately. I can count on one hand the number of times we’ve been woken up by him crying. He’ll take a midnight bottle, but sleep right through it—I don’t even have to rock him back down. And otherwise, he sleeps consistently from 7 to 7. Daytime naps are a little dicier, but he’s getting better, and in any event I’ll take that trade all day.

I’m proud of how patient he is: For awhile, Nathaniel had no interest in waiting even a second for a bottle once he got hungry (our running joke trying to soothe him while the bottle warmed was to agree “we’ve never fed you once in your life”). But now he’s much more understanding. It’s even more pronounced when he wakes up in the morning—no tears, no yelling, he’ll just happily entertain himself in the crib until mom is ready to get him.

I’m proud of how resilient he is: This is a big one, because it is not my forte. But when he got his shots, mom and dad were upset for longer than he was. And we’re already seeing him develop self-soothing practices to help him fall back asleep or get through a challenging time. I could learn from him.

I’m proud of how joyful he is: He may not show it in public, but Nathaniel has the best smile. He loves to giggle when being tickled, he loves to jabber while on his playmate, and he loves to dance when we sing him songs (we hold him upright as he bounces about). There’s nothing I love more than watching him take joy in the world around him.

This is just a short list. And it will only grow as he grows older. I’m not going to lie and say there’s nothing he could do that wouldn’t make me proud; but what is true is that there are an infinite number of ways he can make me proud, and I can’t wait to discover what they all will be.

The Joy of Being a Mad, Ignorant Citizen

 

I'm still learning about the fault lines of local Portland politics. Everyone is a Democrat here, so that's no help. We just completely revamped our city governmental structure, abandoning the "commission" model (where elected city commissioners were responsible for particular bureaus of city governance) in favor of city council featuring three elected members each from four geographic districts. I think that's an improvement, though the last election was a bit of a free-for-all.

Anyway, Portland is in a time of budget cuts, and the city council is deciding what to slash. One proposed cut is to permanently close the Multnomah Arts Center (MAC), where I happen to be currently taking an introductory drawing class (if you want a charcoal self-portrait that will haunt your nightmares, hit me up). Since I'm enjoying my class (and am anticipating taking my son to family art classes when he's a bit older), I was horrified at the prospect that the center might close -- it's got a lot of great programming and it's five minutes from my house. So I wrote to my city councilors urging they keep the MAC open and find other places to make budget cuts (I apparently wasn't the only one).

Congratulate me on being an engaged public citizen? Maybe. But the thing is, here's the relevant information I was bringing to the table in forming this opinion and deciding to yell at my councilors about it:

1. I like the MAC.

End of list. 

Obviously, in the abstract the MAC is a nice thing and worthy of support. But in times of scarcity, the question is about relative priorities -- the money has to come from somewhere. And for my part, I have no idea what other things might be cut instead of the MAC is kept open, nor do I have any insight in how to weigh potential competing priorities even if I was told of potential alternatives. And moreover, I don't really have any interest in learning more. "There must be another way", I say, while having no idea what those alternatives might be and no interest in finding out.

To be clear, I'm not saying it's likely that the MAC is actually a good place to cut. The hue and cry to save it makes me feel more confident that there really are better places to trim from. And the proposal to close the MAC came from one councilor -- it's not a situation where all the experts agree this needs to be done while I stubbornly refuse to accept it. 

But the point is that I'm getting to be an uninformed voter (for real this time!) and it is glorious. I just get to see something I don't like and be mad about it! Do you know how much more relaxing that is compared to when you do know the difficulties and complexities of an issue? I can also decide that the reason we're facing the need for such cuts is Donald Trump. Do I know that? No, but I can't imagine his slash and burn attack on effective governance is doing Portland any favors, and that's good enough for me!

This could get addictive. I have to be careful.

What Internet Randos Are Saying About the DC Jewish Museum Shooting

Earlier this evening, two staffers with the Israeli embassy were shot and killed while leaving an event at the Capital Jewish Museum in Washington, DC. The event was a multifaith and multinational gathering exploring "how a coalition of organizations - from the region and for the region - are working together in response to humanitarian crises throughout the Middle East and North Africa (MENA) region." The attacker reportedly shouted "free Palestine" after committing the killings.

(Tomorrow, the Museum was scheduled to host an event on "Pride: The Policy Accomplishments of the LGBTQ+ Movement", but this doesn't seem related to that).

Whenever events like this happen to the Jewish community, I have the macabre habit of trawling through the comment sections of my favored social media outlets, looking for people to block. I say macabre, but I actually find it quite cathartic: every block is another terrible person I don't ever have to deal with. Is it an endless and Sisyphean task? Of course. But you know that story about the kid throwing starfish back into the ocean and being told "why bother -- there's so many, you'll never make a difference throwing them back one by one", and he throws another one back in and says "I made a difference to that one?" It's like that, but oppositional.

I digress. After hearing the news, I did my perusing on Bluesky, and I have some anecdata to report.

First, a positive: Most people are reacting with what I would consider basic normalcy and decency. Just generally expressing horror and sadness or worry about how actings of political violence are only going to make a bad situation worse. Sometimes people I think exaggerate the pervasiveness of the "bad" takes on Bluesky -- and at one level I get why: if 1000 people are commenting on a political event, and 10% have a repellant take, that's simultaneously only 10% (a pretty small minority) and also that's 100 repellant comments, which can feel very overwhelming, very quickly. So while I don't begrudge anyone who can't look past the bad actors, I want to put it in some perspective. To everyone who had a normal response to a terrible tragedy: you get a sticker.

On the "bad" side, I sort the bad actors into a few groups. The number of people I saw affirmatively cheering the murders was very small. More common was either an overacted performance of yawning indifference ("huh -- anyway, did you see the Pacers game?"), or a dashed off "I'm not saying I support this..." followed by a very long "but...."

To be honest, though, none of these surprised me (either in their content or their relative numbers). The response I saw which did surprise me in terms of the frequency I encountered it was the number of people suggesting the shooting may have been a false flag, designed to justify either complete ethnic cleansing in Gaza and/or further authoritarian repression here at home. 

To be clear: I'm not including in this group people suggesting the Trump and Netanyahu administrations will attempt to exploit this shooting to further their malign agenda. That goes without saying. I'm talking about people who think the shooter was himself an Israeli operative, or otherwise acted at the behest of the Israeli government.

This is "the paranoid style", leftist version, and I was stunned at how many people seemed ready to indulge in it.  I probably shouldn't have been -- one still sees people arguing that Israel intentionally let October 7 happen (and massacred its own people) in order to justify its invasion of Gaza -- but still, it stood out. A lot of people really are prone to believing these sorts of conspiracies.

Anyway, that's my impressionistic take on what random reply-guys are saying. Mostly normal, some cheerers or apologists, and a bit more conspiracy theorists than I was comfortable seeing. Your mileage may vary.

UPDATE: One other thing I noticed -- the replies are much worse in the replies to politicians' posts (compared to news stories). Chris Van Hollen's skeet is overrun with people screaming "but you don't have a word to say about Gaza, you AIPAC-bought bastard!", which suggests they're either bots or aren't paying attention.

The Audacity To Love

As many of you know, one of the artists I collect (in fact, the artist who got me into art collecting) is Halim Flowers. Halim's backstory is incredible: he was convicted of felony murder as a juvenile in DC  after an accomplice shot a man during a home invasion of a rival drug dealer (Halim was not the trigger man and had already left the house when the killing occurred). He was sentenced to life in prison, eventually being released after twenty years thanks to a law targeting life sentences handed out to juvenile offenders. Since then, he has become a very successful artist showing internationally (his solo exhibition was featured at a Paris gallery this month).

Some people who promote Halim have described his story as "going to prison for a crime he didn't commit." I understand why they might say that, given confusion over what "felony murder" is,* but it isn't really true (and to be clear, I've never seen Halim say this or in any way try to skirt responsibility for his actions).

In any event, Halim has published a letter to "Face", the alias he went by on the streets as a kid (so-named because of his babyface). 

It's powerful reading. What impacted me the most is, again, how it doesn't try to avoid accountability, but also doesn't adopt the cliched narrative that prison was necessary to make him the man he is today. Rather, the theme of his letter is that none of this needed to happen. He didn't have to partake in crime. He didn't have to do the home invasion. There were, always, people who loved him. There were, always, people who wanted him to be the man he was always meant to be. He could've been that guy from the get-go.

The letter resonated with the post I wrote a few weeks ago about the American parents grieving their son who died after volunteering to fight for Russia against Ukraine, as part of a misguided tankie-ish "anti-imperialism", and also last year's article in Mother Jones about the mother of the UC-Santa Barbara mass shooter. These cases are all about the terrible maelstrom where unconditional parental love slams into commission of terrible crimes. You'd think something would have to give -- either denial of the crime, or abandonment of the love -- but the reality is that in many cases both persist and coexist in a terrible, chaotic symphony.

Those of us lucky enough not to be directly connected to the principals still can experience a pale echo of this. Halim's life, even after he was implicated in a serious crime, is precious -- the tremendous beauty he has created since his release is testament to that, though I don't want to say one has to be an artist of his talent for his life to matter. The man Halim's accomplice killed, even though he was also involved in the drug trade, is also precious -- we don't know what he would have done with his life, but I have no doubt he also had people who loved him and who he loved in return. The impossible necessity is to hold those truths together at the same time.

In my post, I wrote about

a nineteen-year old man arrested in Berkeley for attempted murder after stabbing someone during a fight outside a bar (as it happens, a bar I periodically frequented). When I read that, I was hit with a wave of despondency -- in part over the senseless of the stabbing, but in part as a sort of third-party grief on behalf of his parents. Didn't he know he had people who loved him? Didn't he realize how much him doing this would hurt them? How awful they must feel, and how alone, given that (understandably, and reasonably) the bulk of the community's care and concern will be directed at the victim and his family, not the perpetrator.

Part of what makes Halim's letter so powerful is that -- without being saccharine or wide-eyed -- just seeks to suffocate the problem it identifies in love. The audacity to keep loving, and the wherewithal to understand that one is loved, could alleviate and avert so much pain. In the overwhelming majority of cases, the love is already there, like a precious resource waiting to be tapped.

* Simplified, "felony murder" is the charge when a murder occurs in the course of a dangerous felony you're taking part in. It is not the same thing as "the felony of murder", which is confusing. In Halim's case, only the triggerman could be prosecuted for first-degree murder, but all accomplices to the felonious home invasion could get hit with a felony murder charge.

Image: Halim Flowers, "Audacity to Love (IP) (Blue)", silkscreen (ed. 10), 30" x 22" (2023). This print was executed shortly after October 7, and features the colors of the Israeli and Palestinian flags (there is a color-swapped white version as well). Even -- or especially -- in that moment, the audacity to love is an essential prerequisite to healing and providing for a just future.

The Religious Liberty Commission's Coming Attack on (Non-Orthodox) Jews

Donald Trump has named a set of appointees to his newly formed Religious Liberty Commission. This article does a good job covering much of the "Jewish" angle of the appointees, noting their general Orthodox slant and connections to various right-wing advocacy groups. None of that is surprising, particularly given the sharp split within the Jewish community where the Orthodox minority strongly supports Trump while the non-Orthodox supermajority despises him.

But there was one name that wasn't mentioned in the above story that I think deserves special attention from the American Jewish community: Josh Blackman, a professor at South Texas College of Law, who was appointed to the committee's legal advisory board. And the reason his appointment deserves special mention is simple: Blackman has argued that non-Orthodox Jews -- which is to say, the vast majority of American Jews -- should be categorically barred from making religious liberty claims. A "religious liberty" commission with him guiding the ship is a commission that presents a clear and present danger to the basic standing of American Jews like myself.

Blackman's argument against permitting non-Orthodox Jews access to religious liberty protections is breathtaking in its audacity and sweep. His view is that since only Orthodox Jews consider themselves bound by halacha, they are the only Jews who can ever sincerely claim to ever be "burdened" by impositions on their religious exercise. Non-Orthodox Jews are, in his view, relegated to little more than a cultural grouping or philosophical debate club; we are dismissed as incapable of having legally cognizable religious commitments at all. And when we dare purport otherwise, Blackman suggests, we should be seen essentially as liars -- opportunistically "gerrymandering" their claims to fit the Supreme Court's new free exercise jurisprudence.

Blackman's position represents an extreme version of burgeoning hostility on the political right towards non-Orthodox Jews perceived as politically liberal. It's no accident he was a central figure I highlighted in my "Liberal Jews and Religious Liberty" article as providing the "intellectual" architecture for de jure discrimination against non-Orthodox Jews, In particular, I argued in that article that a key component of the new conservative orientation regarding Jews was a decided belief that non-Orthodox Jews are not really Jews at all. In an ironic recreation of Karl Lueger's infamous "I decide who is a Jew!" declaration; conservatives are now declaring that the Jews they don't like don't count as Jews to begin with. 

Consider Trump's recent claim that Chuck Schumer was "not Jewish anymore" because of his opposition to Trump's MAGA agenda. It wasn't just random flailing. It was part of a pattern of denying that liberal Jews are properly viewed as Jews at all. This denial is critical to metabolizing the dissonance between conservative's imagined identity as warriors against antisemitism and the reality that they loathe the overwhelming majority of American Jews. Where they can successfully deny that most Jews even count as "Jews", this dissonance can be relieved, and their love for "Jews" can coexist with their hatred of actual Jews. 

Blackman is a leading figure seeking to promote a vicious and reactionary form of "religious liberty" where the bulk of the Jewish community are not only not protected, but are in fact among the primary enemies, all while draping itself in the mantle of "fighting antisemitism". It's despicable, and to anyone with a modicum of respect for the Jewish community as it is actually constituted it should be viewed as a form of antisemitism in its own right.

Blackman's appointment thus should be seen as a dramatic escalation of President Trump's war on the Jewish community. If adopted, Blackman's position would exclude the vast majority of American Jews out of the protections of the First Amendment and other religious liberty protections. At the very least, his appointment further underscores the degree to which the Trump administration's rhetorical claims about opposing "antisemitism" are coupled with disdain, even outright hostility, to most American Jews. But if his legal views are accepted, it would officially codify discrimination against non-Orthodox Jews into the body of American law.

This is not a drill. The Jewish community needs to know: if you are Reform, Conservative, Reconstructionist -- if you're a member of any or all but one preferred denomination of Jewish religious practice -- the Trump administration is laying the groundwork to strip you of your Jewishness and treat you as an enemy. Plan accordingly.