Half Changed World

A week ago, if you had told me that we’d be paying over $3, edging towards $4, a gallon for gas, I’d have predicted riots.  But I’ve hardly heard a murmor of complaint.  People seem to be getting the idea that it’s unseemly to whine about our daily hassles in the face of the tragedy that others are facing. 

I think Landismom’s idea of writing her Senators to point out that now is not a reasonable time to cut the estate tax is a good one.  I’ll admit, I thought an estate tax cut was a bad idea in the first place.  But maybe the need for some shared sacrifice is an argument that even some Republican Senators will listen to.

Lots of bloggers are writing about Katrina today, and I wanted to point out some links that particularly spoke to me.

Hugo Schwyzer wonders if watching the news coverage of Katrina is like rubbernecking at a traffic accident.  He particuarly comments on voyerism and the role of television.  I haven’t watched any of the coverage on TV; I’m overwhelmed enough by the still images and stories.  I learned that lesson during the first Gulf war, and it’s been reinforced by being the mother of two small children, who don’t need to have these images in their heads.

Andrea at Beanie Baby suggests that we honor the victims by bearing witness to their suffering.  She writes:

"We are the love of god; ultimately, we don’t have the right to turn our faces away, to spare ourselves the grief of witnessing, if witnessing is all we can do. Because that would be to diminish god."

Teresa at Making Light discusses "looting" of food, and racism in media coverage.

Also via Making Light, Cherie Priest writes about "the socio-economics of disaster."  Or how not everyone has the resources to hop in their car and drive to a hotel room.

Teresa also links to a page discussing "jump kits" — the supplies that you should keep in a bag near the door in case you need to run.  If you can afford it, another set in your car is probably a good idea too.

Meanwhile, Jody at Raising WEG and Phantom Scribbler have been urging people to prepare for an avian flu pandemic.  I’m not quite ready to drink the kool aid, though.  Not because I think their doomsday scenarios are impossible.  But because I’m doubtful that any reasonable level of preparation I could make would really help.  I think it makes sense to have three days of non-perishable food and water, basic medical supplies, and flashlights on hand.  But if the power and water really go out for months on end, I don’t think a lot of tuna in the closet is going to help.  I don’t buy Dave Pollard’s argument that we’re headed for a catastrophic crash, but I do accept his point that if one happens, big cities and their suburbs are "too remote from food supplies and too dependent on energy, and will ultimately become unsafe and unsanitary as infrastructure becomes unsustainable and begins to deteriorate." 

By the way, I’m always amused by survivalists who think that gold is going to be useful means of trade at the end of the world.  I think they’ve read too much Ayn Rand.  If I really thought that civilization was about to collapse, I’d be stockpiling antibiotics and extra glasses, monofilament line and good knives. 

Tuesday book review is postponed, because I’m too sad and angry.

I’m sad because Mr. Badger died yesterday.  No, he’s not someone I know in person.  He’s the husband of an anonymous blogger, known to me only as Badger.   He was my age, with a young son.   And just under a year ago, he was diagnosed with liver cancer.  Her writings have been heartbreaking.

And I’m angry because of the mess that passes for a health care system in this country.  I’m angry because one of Badger’s friends had to pass the virtual hat to raise money to pay for Mr. Badger’s hospice care.  I’m angry because Cubbiegirl has a tooth infection and is puking from the pain and can’t afford to have it extracted.

And the scary thing is that neither Mr. Badger nor Cubbiegirl is one of the 45.8 million Americans without health insurance, as reported today by the Census Bureau.  Mr. Badger had health insurance, but he ran through the $100,000 annual limit and it only covered a portion of the cost of hospice care anyway.  And Cubbiegirl is a veteran, but the VA health system doesn’t cover dental care, unless it’s service related. 

This week’s New Yorker has a nice article by Malcolm Gladwell on the problems caused by lack of insurance and under insurance, and how the current Administration is full of people "who regard health insurance not as the solution but as the problem."  It’s worth a read.  But it will make you angry too.

I think the FDA’s non-decision on Emergency Contraception (EC, the morning-after pill) is bullshit.  All of their scientific advisory panels have recommended approving it.  They’re full of it for saying that an age-based decision is unenforceable; as Fred at Stone Court points out, if that were the case, tobacco shouldn’t be available.  This is a purely political decision.

So why wasn’t I more enthusiastic when got the following email from NOW and the FMF?

Dear DC Activist,

We wanted to make you aware of an important National Day of Action and rally for Emergency Contraception (EC). We hope to see you there!

WHO: National Organization for Women, along with other women’s rights organizations and activists WHAT: National Day of Action on Emergency Contraception WHERE: Outside U.S. Department of Health and Human Service 200 Independence Avenue, S.W. · Washington , D.C. 20201 WHEN: Tuesday, August 30 @ 12:00 pm. Come during your lunch break! WHY : To demand that emergency contraception (EC) be made available to all women, over the counter and without a prescription NOW! After more than two years of foot-dragging, the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) has failed women once again! In a report issued today, the FDA demanded more time before announcing a decision to broadening access to "the morning after pill". NOW activists and others who support the health and safety of girls and women will hold a rally outside the U.S. Department of Health and Human Service office to insist that the FDA allow the sale of Emergency Contraception without a prescription. Please come during your lunch break and bring signs!

Well, for one thing, I work at 200 Independence Avenue.  There’s something incongruous of walking out at my lunch hour to protest in front of my own building, then returning to my desk to put in an afternoon’s work.  But more generally, this seems like an incredibly ineffectual action.  The FDA isn’t even based downtown — all its staff are out in Rockville.    And I’m sure the scientists who work at FDA are even more pissed off about this than I am.  Waving signs in front of the HHS office building may make you feel like you’re doing something but is highly unlikely to change anything.

[Updated] So, if you’re angry about the EC decision, the first thing to do is to send in your opinion using the official comment form.

Then, if you’re up to it, write letters to:

1. Lester Crawford, FDA Commissioner
2. Mike Leavitt, HHS Secretary
3. Your Representative and Senator. 

Make a stink about politics affecting decisions that should be made based on science.

While you’re at it, if you’re female, the next time you’re at your OB/GYN, ask for a prescription for EC.  It’s a useful thing to have around the house, and the request also helps draw medical attention to the issue.

And if you need EC now, try your local Planned Parenthood, or getthepill.com or call 1-888-NOT-2-LATE.  (Thanks to Mary for the last.)  You may also be able to use a high dose of regular birth control pills for EC, if you happen to have access to a pack.

Further update:  Susan Wood, Assistant Commissioner for Women’s Health at the FDA, has resigned in protest.  Read her resignation letter here.

I’ve spent much of the day with a window on my screen open to a news source, checking the progress of Katrina and the misery that she’s inflicting on the people of Louisiana and Mississippi.  The rain may fall on the just and the unjust alike, the rich and the poor, but the rich have a lot more ability to get out of the way:

"Julie Paul, 57, sat on a porch yesterday with other residents of a poor neighborhood in central New Orleans who said they had no way to leave town. ‘None of us have any place to go,’ the AP quoted her as saying. ‘We’re counting on the Superdome. That’s our lifesaver.’"

And a leaky lifesaver it was.

The flooding reminded me of one of the best history books I’ve read, Rising Tide: The Great Mississippi Flood of 1927 and How It Changed America, by John M. Barry.  Barry weaves together several stories: the (flawed) engineering masterpiece of the levees that controlled the Mississippi, the terror of the flood, the race and class tensions that affected the response, and the federal and private relief efforts that followed.  The title is multi-layered, referring both to the rampaging Mississippi, and (ironically) to the proverbial tide that lifts all boats. It’s literally a page-turner.  I’d definitely recommend it.

(As it happens, just last week, my dad loaned me Barry’s recent book on the 1918 flu epidemic.  It should be an interesting read.)

Red Cross Relief Efforts

Union for Reform Judaism Disaster Relief

Phantom Scribbler notes that today is the yahrtzeit, the death anniversary, of Raphael Lemkin, the man who invented the word "genocide" and spent his life fighting for it to be recognized as a crime.  She writes:

"Lemkin’s obsessive faith in the power of the law and words themselves to change our grim human realities still stands for me as one of the astonishing triumphs of the twentieth century: to hope, still and again, that someday we will break the back of hatred, enclose it, unman it."

I’m feeling a bit gloomy about the world today.  This morning’s newspaper reminded me of the one-year anniversary of the massacre in Beslan.  And then comes September 11, and its memories.  I suppose there’s not a date on the calendar where there hasn’t been pain and bloodshed, somewhere, somewhen.

PS points out that Lemkin was rescued from obscurity by Samantha Power and her Pulitzer-winning book A Problem from Hell.  I once read an interview with Power where she was asked how she can avoid despair, given the world’s consistent history of inaction in the face of genocide.  She responded that she was a Red Sox fan, and so she always had faith that maybe this would be the year when the pattern was broken, or if not this year, maybe next.

(I can’t find the quote online — if anyone has it, I’d love to put the exact quote up.)

In The Writing Life, Annie Dillard says:

"During that time, I let all the houseplants die.  After the book was finished I noticed them; the plants hung completely black dead in their pots in the bay window.  For I had not only let them die, I had not moved them.  During that time, I told all my out-of-town friends they could not visit for a while."

I read this passage in college, or shortly thereafter, and I think it did quite a lot of damage to my writing.  I interpreted it as Dillard saying that if you didn’t have the single-minded passion for writing that let you turn away your friends and let your plants die, then you were never going to be a real writer, and you might as well not try.  And so for years, I didn’t write.

My houseplants aren’t quite dead, but they’re pretty close.  I don’t water them nearly enough, and the cat gnaws on their leaves when she gets the chance.  My garden is vibrantly green, but only because it’s totally overgrown with weeds.  There simply aren’t enough hours in the day to do everything I’d like to do, and plant care is pretty far down in the list.  But writing — at least in the form of this blog — has become part of my routine, something I do even if I’m not fully in the mood.

Last month, I finally managed to get my new Palm E2 to synch properly at work, and I wanted to get an extra HotSync cable so I wouldn’t have to keep carrying mine back and forth between home and office.  It ticked me off that Palm charges $24.99 for a basic cable, so I googled to see if I could find one for cheaper.  I soon found a company called Vavolo, which offers one for just $5.95, plus another $5.90 for shipping.  And theirs uses the USB port to charge the handheld, instead of requiring a separate cable and outlet.

It wasn’t until I went to check out that I realized that, even though the website is entirely in English, Vavolo is located is Hong Kong, and that the cable would be shipped to me directly from there.  I hesitated a minute, but decided to go ahead, since I wasn’t in a rush to get the cable.  I had found an online coupon worth $3, so the most I’d be out is $9, and I was curious to see what I’d get.

The package came today complete with interesting Hong Kong stamps.  The stamps totalled 17 HKdollars, or just over $US 2.  And the package claims that the cable was made in Japan, not Hong Kong or China.  I’m boggled that this business model is profitable.

A couple of months ago, I wrote about Stephanie Coontz’s book, Marriage.  Coontz argues that the transformation of marriage from an institution about controlling property, making alliances between families, and ensuring legitimate heirs into an emotional bond sowed the seeds of its destruction.  Once marriage was reframed as about romantic love and happiness, it became harder and harder to argue that people should stay married when the relationship failed to make them happy.  Today, pretty much the only argument that people seriously make against divorce is grounded in concern for the well-being of any children involved.  You almost never hear anyone suggest that two childless individuals who are unhappily married should stay together because they stood up and took vows about "till death do us part."

As I think about it, it seems that parenting may be the only commitment that American society takes seriously, and for which "it’s not making me happy" isn’t a sufficient basis for breaking.  Especially not for women.  Laura’s right that what makes parents happy isn’t always what’s best for the kids, but it’s also true that it’s seen as a sign of moral depravity for a mother to say "ok, this might make the kids a little worse off, but it makes me a lot better off, and I’ve made a lot of sacrifices already and it’s time for them to give a bit."  As Jody said, we still hold mothers to impossibly high standards.

Is parenthood supposed to make you happy?  It’s a fascinating question.  Parenting is often described as a selfless activity, in that you’re expected to put your children’s well-being ahead of your own desires.  But I’ve also heard people argue that the choice is have children is always made for selfish reasons; even if it’s no longer an economically rational thing to do, people choose to have kids because they think it will be enjoyable, or because they want someone to love and to love them.

Obviously, not every moment of parenting is going to be fun.  No one likes having a sick child crawl into your bed and puke all over them.  No one likes dealing with a shrieking toddler in the full throes of the "mines."  No one likes it when your child comes home sobbing because their friend was mean to them, and there’s nothing you can do to fix it.  But most of us would say that the joys usually outweigh the frustrations.

But that’s not always the case.  In her comment on my review of We Need to Talk about Kevin, Mary wrote:

"Yes, parents are supposed to be selfless, never asking for anything in return, just giving, giving, giving — but poeple whose kids don’t have special needs don’t know what it’s like to never get a hand-drawn card, or a picture, or a hug in return. It wears you down. It’s human nature to expect some response when you send love out into the universe, or out into your family. Think about it, if she [Eva] had been married to someone who treated her the way that Kevin did, she would have divorced him, and no one would have blamed her."

Meghan, at I’m ablogging, made a similar point recently about her need for emotional feedback:

"I am the adult in this scenario. I understand that as the parent, I need to be loving and patient and kind and warm even if I am not getting anything but accusing screams and wails in return. I love my daughter all the time, no matter what. I hate to admit that her feedback helps to keep me going. I mean, she is only eleven months after all. I can’t rely on her. That’s way too much responsibility for a child of that tender age.

"But those 5:15 smiles sure make it easier. Just one day without one made me realize how much they help to keep me going."

So parenting is a selfless activity, undertaken for selfish reasons.  It’s often a source of deep happiness and satisfaction, but you’re not allowed to quit even if it isn’t.  And if you complain about the ways that the workplace and society are hostile to childrearing, you’re told that "you chose to have kids" so if you’re unhappy it’s your own fault. 

I just loved this sentence (from the NYTimes article on Forth & Towne, the Gap’s new chain for "grown-ups")?

"Even though women of the baby boom, now age 41 to 59, accounted for 39 percent of women’s apparel purchases last year, shoppers who are much younger, 11 to 30, enjoy nearly five times the retail options, according to industry figures."

And women ages 31-40 apparently don’t exist.  Too young to be boomers, we’re children of the "baby bust" and demographically invisible.

Lord knows, I could certainly use some help finding new clothes.   Between two pregnancies, breastfeeding, and hoping to lose baby weight, I’ve hardly bought anything to wear in the past 5 years. (Ok, I bought maternity clothes, but I gave them away as fast as I could.)  I’m cheap, and I hate clothes shopping in any case — no one designs clothes for short women with large ribcages — and so have just rotated through my wardrobe endlessly.  But it’s starting to get pretty shabby.

In particular, I really need some new shorts.  But I can’t seem to find anything that isn’t cut for either teenagers who don’t mind their pupik showing or for matronly ladies who are hiding their varicose veins.  Any suggestions?