Les Misérables Breaks the 4th Wall to Stand Against Trumpism

On May 16, 2025May 16, 2025 By Lorraine Devon WilkeIn Latest Thoughts

Joining HAMILTON in “performance protest.”

Screenshot by Thibaut Marion @ Wikimedia Commons

Oh, Richard Grenell is not happy.

The longtime Fox News contributor, avowed Trumpist, and radical conservative agitator was recently and ridiculously (having zero experience in the creative industries) appointed the interim director of the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts. Of course, this was after Trump, the most artless human on earth, purged the iconic venue’s leadership and inserted himself as chairman of the board, so why not pick an utterly unqualified partisan to run (down) one of the greatest creative venues in America? That’s the philosophy that drove Trump’s cabinet picks, so his consistency is impressive.

In his new and undeserved post, Grenell has been outraged on an ongoing basis as slews of artists denounce the authoritarian takeover of the Center, some pulling out of scheduled appearances (Hamilton creator, Lin-Manuel Miranda, canceled the musical’s 2026 planned run), citing the obliteration of the Center’s mission of openness, inclusion, and creative freedom. Trump did, in fact (if unwittingly), underscore the veracity of that accusation with his Truth Social post of February after appointing Grenell:

That’s right, dammit, they’re going to make sure nothing “woke” gets up on that stage, so look forward to a roster filled with fluff, pabulum, all-white casts, and musical ditties from the 50s! 🙄

As for Les Misérables and how they fit into this brouhaha: in a stance that asserts their protest of the recent MAGA incursion, a group of the show’s actors are boycotting the June 11th performance Trump is hosting as a fundraiser for the theater. From Playbill:

The Kennedy Center performance was part of a previously scheduled stop on the musical’s tour. The cast was given the option to not perform June 11. Among those who decided not to perform are both principals and ensemble members, though the production has not disclosed exactly which company members. A request for comment had not yet been returned at the time of publication.

In response, theater neophyte Ric Grenell clenched his jaw, ground his teeth, and, in a hissy-fit of epic proportion, publicly bellowed:

“Any performer who isn’t professional enough to perform for patrons of all backgrounds, regardless of political affiliation, won’t be welcomed.’“

“In fact, we think it would be important to out those vapid and intolerant artists to ensure producers know who they shouldn’t hire — and that the public knows which shows have political litmus tests to sit in the audience.” The New York Times.

Oh, Ric, calm the fuck down.

Sputtering at this act of principle by calling for the blacklisting of involved actors is, in fact, a real-life example of applying a “political litmus test” … at a time when every single thing that promotes openness, compassion, innovation, empathy, and acceptance is deemed “woke” and, therefore, to be banished, denounced, banned, and demeaned. And kept out of the Kennedy Center. Grenell’s carping is transparent and ridiculous … but hypocrisy is the MAGA brand.

Given his lack of creative DNA, along with his unbending allegiance to the conservative/MAGA agenda, it’s safe to guess Grenell’s not particularly savvy about the creative persona … the grit and gristle that creatives are made of. Artists, performers, writers, singers, designers, actors, etc., are people who care about things like expressive freedom, inclusion, diversity and equity; who demand spaces where those principles are not only allowed and welcomed, but encouraged, not shut down and denigrated by ignorance and small-mindedness. Frankly, if Don or Ric actually knew what Les Mis was about, what themes, ideas, and principles the performers are portraying, they might’ve expected the boycott:

What is the main point of Les Misérables?

The Les Misérables revolves around the themes of inequality and social class issues. Set in France, the five-volume novel explores the struggles of people in the lower class and how they grapple with unfair treatment. It also highlights ethical dilemmas and redemption.

I mean, could that be more “woke”??

If this really is one of Trump’s “favorite musicals,” I would guess he has absolutely no clue of these “main points”; just pretends to like it (similar to his affection for the Bible, his “favorite book” despite being unable to reference any part of it). Or maybe he likes Les Mis for … what, the costumes … the music … the flags? Who the fuck knows? It’s possible he got it mixed it up with Guys & Dolls, Cats, or Mamma Mia.

It was Nina Simone who said, “An artist’s duty, as far as I’m concerned, is to reflect the times … How can you be an artist and not reflect the times? That, to me, is the definition of an artist.”

It is to me, too (see In Today’s Maddening World, Yes, BE a Creative Loudmouth). Particularly at this moment, taking a stand that reflects one’s beliefs, principles, and convictions, however unpopular, however risky, inconvenient, or even dangerous, is what artists of conscience do. Whether boycotting Trump’s ego-driven events, refusing to perform for people who diminish and demean the true value and currency of art; whether writing books that get pilloried or risk getting banned by MAGA trolls; whether being bold and innovative with one’s music, art, articles, movies or plays — whatever form of expression, whatever medium — artists reflect the times.

And these times demand a higher consciousness. They demand wisdom, vision; outspokenness. They demand courage — no, not just courage; fearlessness. The fearlessness to create art and then put that art out into the world, especially in this era of cowardice, capitulation, and complicity. True artists are born with and nurture that higher consciousness; it’s imbedded in their DNA, their psyches, their skin, bones, and brains. You can’t be an artist if you’re afraid, timid, easily cowed by strongmen with fascist agendas’ or are willing to bend to the oppression and ignorance of ignorant people. Art demands freedom. It demands audacity and guts. It demands risk-taking, standing up to the exact madness we’ve see playing out every day since the man and his cabal took over our government, wreaking authoritarianism havoc disguised as patriotism, nationalism, protectionism.

It’s none of those things, what they’re doing. We know what it is. We name what it is. And we stand up against what it is. If that means boycotting a show we love performing, cancelling a scheduled run of a production we created, risking our livelihoods and reputations, losing jobs or being blacklisted by toxic agents like Ric Grenell, so be it. People, artists, activists, have been standing up to small-minded tyrants for centuries, and those for whom freedom is essential — in life, in countries, in schools, cities, governments; in art — will continue to do so.

Yes, it is ironic that Trump claims to love Les Mis, because it’s as wise and “woke” as a musical gets. If he actually listened to its theme song, his head might explode. I think Grenell should play it for him with the lyrics printed out … or just get him a DVD of Beach Blanket Bingo and let him slide.

DO YOU HEAR THE PEOPLE SING?

Do you hear the people sing?
Singing a song of angry men?
It is the music of a people
Who will not be slaves again

When the beating of your heart
Echoes the beating of the drums
There is a life about to start
When tomorrow comes

Will you join in our crusade?
Who will be strong and stand with me?
Beyond the barricade
Is there a world you long to see?
Then join in the fight
That will give you the right to be free

Do you hear the people sing?
Singing a song of angry men?
It is the music of a people
Who will not be slaves again

When the beating of your heart
Echoes the beating of the drums
There is a life about to start
When tomorrow comes

Will you give all you can give
So that our banner may advance
Some will fall and some will live
Will you stand up and take your chance?
The blood of the martyrs
Will water the meadows of France

Do you hear the people sing?
Singing a song of angry men?
It is the music of a people
Who will not be slaves again

When the beating of your heart
Echoes the beating of the drums
There is a life about to start
When tomorrow comes

Composed by Claude-Michel Schönberg (music), Alain Boublil & Jean-Marc Natel (original French lyrics), and Herbert Kretzmer (English lyrics)

Despite Trends to the Contrary… truth and decency still matter.

On June 28, 2024June 28, 2024 By Lorraine Devon WilkeIn Latest Thoughts

It’s fucking ridiculous that this has to be said out loud, but in our blighted era of Trumpian lunacy, when corrosiveness has been normalized, and gaslighting permeates everything from media to politics to education to social issues, it seems even the most basic expectations of principled society do have to be articulated.

There was a debate last night between an effective, decent, successful POTUS and a twice-impeached convicted felon who’s a pathological liar, a corrupt thug, and an adjudicated rapist, and the caterwauling afterwards—from media, pundits, terrified Democrats—is that the decent, successful man needs to “step down for the sake of the country” because he had a shitty debate. He’s too old, too “feeble”; his voice was hoarse, he didn’t counter the convicted felon’s relentless lies enough, he was pale; he lacked energy.

Huh.

So, despite the biblical list of disparities between the old fella with the big heart and the convicted felon/rapist, the loudest, the literally SHOUTED, suggestion/demand by many big name columnists, top shelf politicians; panic-stricken talking heads, was to demand the former commit political seppuku if he had any dignity or concern for his constituents. Didn’t hear one word about the convicted felon “stepping down for the sake of the country,” despite the fact that he’s articulated his plan to dismantle American democracy and his getting in the White House again would literally destroy the country as we know it.

That is a deeply systemic case of collective gaslighting.

They’re a slick bunch, gaslighters. Not just these post-debate caterwaulers, but all of them, so pervasive and relentless it’s a wonder they haven’t set the entire American experiment on fire… though it seems they’re trying. They’ve insinuated themselves into every corner of life, hiding behind church pulpits and congressional desks, in school boardrooms and medical facilities; they’re embedded in media, marketing, and Republican campaigns (even some Democratic ones, it sadly seems). They’re both blatant and surreptitious, bold and mewling; hardcore and sycophantic. And they’ve successfully manipulated a good portion of the American electorate to embrace—with blind conviction, obsequious devotion, terrifying ignorance, and ugly red hats—the belief that truth, decency, kindness, heart and humanity are not only not essential, they’re harbingers of weakness, softness, “wokeness,” unnecessary and irrelevant. This truth-averse contingent prefers their idols to be bullies, strongmen. They applaud coarseness, cheer indecorum, and hail corruption as a form of fist-pumping defiance.

The worst among them—both the gaslighters and gaslightees—are the contingent called “MAGA,” and they’re doing the dark work of trying to push Donald J. Trump back into our White House.

That cannot happen.

It’s fair to ask whether Trump is responsible for ushering in this toxic era. It feels like he did, but most would agree that MAGA was already here, just hiding beneath rocks and behind enforced social decorum. They hadn’t yet coalesced, given themselves hats and a name. It was when Trump slithered down the infamous escalator that an invitation, permission, was extended to other bigoted, small-minded, hate-and-fear oriented people to emulate his crassness. To step out of the shadows to hoot and holler and insurrect in the triggering, exciting strobe of his orange beacon. They bowed and shouted, deigned him their golden calf, and he, in turn, made them feel the power of belonging to his toxic cult. It’s a metastasizing, mutually repugnant relationship, and it’s been making American sick since 2015.

Yet still … and despite trends to the contrary … decency matters. Truth matters. Not everyone within earshot of the noise fell for the falsities. There are the millions of good people, kind people; people who care about their fellow humans, who are passionate about creating racial equity in our divided society, who see immigrants as essential members of the diverse landscape; who listen and speak with consideration, respect, and civility. People who refuse to reject truth to further lies and self-serving agendas. Who parent needy children, care for the elderly, administer schools, continue to create beautiful things, research important advances, and promote environmental improvements. People who run for office because they actually want to make life better for their constituents rather than use it to enrich and aggrandize themselves, their families, and their cronies… or stay out of prison.

These people—you, we—outnumber them.

Yet in a society where clickbait rules and salaciousness gets the attention, we spend so much time reading about, listening to, recoiling at; analyzing, reacting, and responding to the despicable, heinous words and deeds of the gaslighters it’s almost impossible to believe that the good people I’m referencing exist. Even our current president—a good, compassionate, honest man—gets less favorable, illuminating reportage than the cretin running against him … certainly as evidenced by the hysterical hand-wringing about his “disastrous debate performance.”

That won’t likely change. Our culture is too immersed in the trend of tabloid titillation. Train wrecks, political scandals, and pursuing Hunter Biden will always garner more curiosity than positive news. The only way to inject balance into that equation is to make a pact to, yes, rant, rail, and act against injustice, dishonesty, and corruption as compelled to do so, but also to shine as much light as possible on the honest, productive, integrity-inspiring people who vastly outnumber the worst amongst us who do get the headlines.

We’ve got a plate-shifting choice to make in this upcoming election. And despite the cacophony of polls and headlines that seem hellbent on amplifying the terrifying agenda and campaign of the indecent failure of a man called Trump, we have the power to push, pull, articulate, and embody the trend of decency and all that comes with it. We can holler about our individual grievances, cite examples where our causes haven’t been served to our satisfaction. We can enumerate our criticisms, opine about our disagreements, threaten to not vote, to vote third party, to “protest” vote in some self-soothing but ultimately self-sabotaging way (because I promise you, anything that helps Trump win is self-sabotaging), but at the end of the day, it’s decency that demands our attention, and that we should agree on.

Because decency is what’s at risk. Our democracy is at risk. Our rights and freedoms. Our very ability to live in a country that values those things and doesn’t gaslight its people to believe that authoritarianism, intolerance, fascism, and fear of other are acceptable principles, or that corruption, criminality, and dishonesty are simply costs of doing business.

This is no small event, this election. It’s world changing. And we can’t afford to look away. Because we do have the power to keep the terrifying echoes of Nazi Germany, Russia, North Korea, and other deadly, soul-killing, freedom-destroying political blueprints and agendas from subsuming our beloved America. Despite trends to the contrary, we have the power to make sure that doesn’t happen.

Age doesn’t matter. A bad debate performance doesn’t matter. A pale face and stumbling steps don’t matter. What matters is decency, truth, and integrity. Honesty. Upholding our American democracy. Regardless of how the Democratic leadership may respond to demands that Biden “step aside for the sake of the country,” good people who care enough about America to really pay attention, to not get lost in the weeds of debate and discord, will continue to vote like our very freedoms—the freedoms of our families, our children, our future generations—depend on it.

Because they do. And decency demands we protect those freedoms for all of us, all of them.

Visit www.lorrainedevonwilke.com for details and links to LDW’s books, music, photography, and articles.

The Trump Show: A Lie Has No Legs. Let’s Keep It That Way

On June 13, 2023June 13, 2023 By Lorraine Devon WilkeIn Latest Thoughts

As the Trump Show continues to endlessly unfold before our weary eyes (didn’t he say he’d disappear if he lost in ’20??), and I watch his followers in Congress, media, walking past me in restaurants, sputter and hiss and threaten in their various levels of outrage, I’m left pondering how so many became so convinced that this person is worthy of this degree of their histrionic fidelity.

But, really, how often do people think, really think, about their allegiances, their picks; the people, parties, and causes they get behind, identify with, march in the street and hoist placards for? I think it’s more likely that allegiance is unexamined, knee-jerk and irrational; once given, never taken away. In other words: Trumpism may be on auto-pilot.

But that’s how cultism works. I mean, you have to sign a billion-year contract in some.

I tend to think it’s wise to check in from time to time to make sure who and what I stand with still stands for ideas, concepts, and commitments I support and subscribe to. Because it occasionally happens that someone’s politics change, something new is discovered (uncovered) about them, or they jump on an unsupportable bandwagon. Examination of such shifts allows opportunity to adjust your membership accordingly.

Like, say, if a person saw that the guy they’ve sworn allegiance to was just adjudicated as a sexual abuser, or had to pay restitution to people he swindled, or got indicted for hush money paid to a porn actress, or got indicted again for 37 felony counts related to classified documents, that sort of thing. Might that signal it’s time to readjust one’s thinking?

It might, with normal people, in a normal time (whatever that is). But given the rhetoric and realities of those who loudly, aggressively, and often to their own detriment support, aggrandize, idealize, and defer to Donald Trump, it seems unlikely they ever step out of the bubble long enough to analyze, dissect, hold to the light, or check for flaws in their reasoning.

Frankly, I hope not. Because if they really did do that, and still felt as positive and passionate about the guy, it would mean our country, our American humanity, is in worse shape than I’ve given it credit for.

No, I’m writing off the insanity of Trumpism as “cult damage,” blind allegiance bereft of facts, truth, rational consideration, or critical thinking. The kind of full-body indoctrination that convinces seemingly “normal” people to reject former decent, sensible behaviors to, instead, disconnect from their families, poison themselves in Guyana jungles, murder innocent people, burn in a Waco settlement, storm the Capitol to kill the VP, mindlessly believe egregious lies, and deny any scintilla of truth if it reflects badly on their cult leader. If this is what Trumpism is, well, one can only pity the gullible… while actively protecting themselves from their wrath and stupidity, voting in every single bloody election to preserve actual democracy, and hoping one day the indoctrinated see the light of rational thought.

It happens. I extricated myself from a youthful bout of Scientology. Former Tea Party pols are now on Twitter pushing against authoritarianism generally and Trump specifically. My brother who once voted for the guy denounced him soundly last time and will again if Republicans continue to hold their bar criminally low (literally). Maybe some MAGA will wake up one day to shake off the fog of cultism to realize they hitched their wagon to the wrong orange pony. I can hope for that.

But until then (it does seem a bit idealistic), it’s essential for good people of conscience to pay close attention to what’s being foisted in the name of Dear Leader Trump:

We’re being systemically, relentlessly, unconscionably gaslit. By Republicans in Congress, right wing media personalities, and Trump analysts/lackeys/lawyers who insist that what’s criminal is no big deal, what’s dishonest is acceptable, what’s corrupt is okay, what’s indecent is dismissible, what’s traitorous is just sloppy, and what’s vile, amoral, and incendiary is just a guy blowing off steam.

None of that is true. All of it’s a lie. And a lie has no legs. Not with good people of conscience.

Donald J. Trump is, and is doing, exactly what those good people perceive. He’s lying, cheating; traitoring. He’s spewing hate, threats, and inane conspiracies far and wide. He’s blaming others for his own crimes. He’s attempting to deflect by screaming “squirrel,” hoping suspicion of others will distract from him. He’s driven by narcissism and arrogance to believe he won what he lost, deserves what he’s unqualified for; is immune to laws, excused from manners, and forgiven for indecency.

He’s not.

I grew up in a world where we were taught to admire, emulate, and support good people, men and women with integrity, smarts, honor, veracity, and compassion. Honesty was non-negotiable. Ethics were expected. Consideration and respect were the norm. I live by those standards and principles, taught my son those standards and principles, and fill my life only with people who share those standards and principles.

They are not, however, the standards and principles of those trying to gaslight this country and its people. That crowd really, really, really wants you to suck it all in, every noxious plume. They’re trying very hard to insist on it, push it, normalize it. Congresspeople tweet it, talking heads talk it; right-wing has-beens blubber about it; young Trumpist lawyers desperate to feel relevant sell their souls hawking it. And Trump, of course, is UPPER-CASING it all to death.

The only response I have: SHUT UP. SIT DOWN. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? FUCK OFF.

Sorry. I get rude with this stuff.

Like every good, decent person who’s ever held strong and pushed back against lies, propaganda, demagoguery, and disinformation throughout time, do that: hold strong, push back. Don’t get bamboozled into buying any of the noise. Whatever anyone else may be doing, whoever else may committing crimes, lying to Congress, taking bribes, stealing national security, having affairs with porn stars, or enriching themselves while in office, don’t be distracted from the truth of the current situation.

Trump is exactly who and what you think he is. And, while the “big house” may be an appropriate next stop for the guy, he can never, ever again get anywhere near our White House.

That, too, is non-negotiable.

Photo by Pawel Czerwinski on Unsplash

Visit www.lorrainedevonwilke.com for details and links to LDW’s books, music, photography, and articles.

I Bought a Yard Sign Today…

On September 10, 2020September 15, 2020 By Lorraine Devon WilkeIn Latest Thoughts2 Comments

I’d never bought one before.

Not because I’m politically shy. I’ve always been happy to holler about who had my vote or where I stood on issues, was never bothered when people warned I might put off family and friends, potentially offend readers with my candor. In fact, I subscribe, as I wrote in The Outspoken Artist: Let Candor Be Your Brand, to Nina Simone’s iconic motto: “An artist’s duty, as far as I’m concerned, is to reflect the times.”

So I reflect… I just never thought to buy a yard sign.

Not sure why. Probably something to do with clutter-antipathy, not wanting my yard to look like an overwrought bumper sticker, and, besides, I figured I fulfilled my civic duty in other, less cluttery, ways: sending campaign postcards, performing at fundraisers (which I miss doing this year), writing op-eds, essays, and articles, doing relentless social media rabble rousing, speaking up, speaking out, etc.

This time? I don’t care if the yard looks cluttered, neighbors get put off, passersby wave red hats and middle fingers, or right-wing hooligans abscond with my purchase (I’ll just get another). This time I need to be LOUDER, in big bold words, all CAPS, on my front lawn, like a blazing little billboard.

Because this time is different. I’ve hit a tipping point I’ve never hit before. My standards of decency and integrity have been offended. My expectations of leadership — in all three branches of government — have been obliterated. My views and opinions of too many of my fellow citizens have been corroded. So I’m not feeling politic about politics. In fact:

1. I can’t bear one more second of a country where lies and the staggering dishonesty of a president and his henchpeople have not only become the norm, but are dismissed, ignored, emulated, even applauded.

2. I can’t tolerate one more second under the “rule” of a president so corrupt the sheer volume of his corruption has desensitized the nation and rendered that corruption irrelevant to those who support him; so corrupt his impeachment was met with a yawn by a party who apparently thinks he’s not corrupt enough; so corrupt the international community rejects and dismisses him as a laughable, inept charlatan.

3. I can’t endure one more second of cultural “think” that prioritizes the accumulation and protection of wealth over basic fairness and equity, essential business regulations, critical environmental laws, and the science of a deadly virus.

4. I refuse to accept one more second of enfranchisement and invitation to racists, right-wing vigilantes, Nazis, xenophobes, religious bigots, misogynists, and overzealous, gun-toting Trumpists, all of whom feel they represent the best of America. They do not. They represent the worst. That, apparently, needs to be said loudly at this moment.

All of which makes this election not just an election, but rather a referendum on who and what we are, what we aspire to be, what is possible given our best impulses as opposed to our worst. It is a moment beyond partisan or personality politics, beyond rich, poor, left, right, liberal, conservative, or progressive. It transcends one-issue voters, “lesser of two evil” arguments, the titillating urge to “shake things up” (thanks, Susan Sarandon!), the petulance of take-my-ball-and-go-home foot-stomping. It is a matter life and death, both virtual and literal.

Hyperbole? I don’t think so.

Certainly the 190,000 COVID dead (or whatever that number will be by the time you read this) wouldn’t have found it hyperbolic. Certainly the Black men and women who’ve died under the knee, with backs turned, or in their own homes wouldn’t either, nor would their grief-stricken families or those protesting those outrages who were gassed, kidnapped, and terrorized by right-wing armed vigilantes and federal mercenaries. The caged children, manhandled immigrants, assaulted women; the poor, the needy; those who’ve lost jobs, homes, businesses, and healthcare; environmentalists, international allies, and those looking to America to offer strong, powerful leadership of intelligence and integrity would not find it hyperbolic.

Because we do not have American leadership of strong, powerful intelligence and integrity. We have the opposite.

So I bought a yard sign. A small thing that not many people will see, but a symbol of taking a public stance, because it’s important to me to make crystal clear to anyone walking by that this election is about prioritizing humanity. Integrity. Honor. Survival. Lawfulness. Compassion. Truth. A balanced judiciary. A working Congress. Equity. Civil rights. All those essential elements that require we put aside petty differences, demands for faster progress, concerns for wealth protection, worries about changing culture, fear of other. It’s about realizing that though we may believe different gods, have grown up in different circumstances, faced different challenges, and embrace different cultures, we are all Americans who deserve intelligent, compassionate leaders of unassailable integrity. We all deserve to live and flourish without fear of never-ending chaos, relentless dishonesty, corruption, and ignorance. We all deserve a president our children can look up to, emulate, and admire.

We do not have that now. And if Donald Trump is re-elected, we won’t have that again for another four years, with many more after that to attempt recovery and reconciliation.

We cannot endure that potential. We cannot risk that potential. American democracy cannot survive that… nor can the many more lives who’ll be lost to his continuing authoritarianism, dismissal of science, rejection of climate change, willingness to subvert law, and embrace of dictators, charlatans, and “very fine people” waving swastikas and AR-15s.

I cannot stand by and quietly allow that America to be America, not for one more minute than I’ve been forced to during this corrosive administration. I fought like hell the last time and, tragically for us all (except, maybe, the rich folks), chicanery prevailed. That cannot happen this time. It can’t.

So I’ll do all my usual civic duty stuff; I’ll speak out, write articles, send postcards, share voter registration links, where to drop your ballot (check for LA county) and how to track it; I’ll help anyone who needs help, donate to blue candidates, etc.

And I’ll put my big Biden/Harris sign up in my yard. One that boldly declares that I stand for hope, change, integrity, diversity, and democracy. Please join me with your own… and send pictures. I’d like to see them.

#VoteBidenHarrisToSaveAmerica

Visit www.lorrainedevonwilke.com for details and links to LDW’s books, music, photography, and articles.

Unmasked America: How Showing Concern for Others Became a Political Statement

On May 14, 2020May 14, 2020 By Lorraine Devon WilkeIn Latest Thoughts

“Who’s that masked man, mama?”
“Someone who cares about other people, sweetheart.”

Americans in 2020 remind me of teenagers:

No matter the issue, how it’s framed, where logic comes in, or what consequences are attached, there’s always an argument. A debate. The foisting of opinions, drawing of lines, asserting of protests and presumptions. Of course, Americans have always been like this (think Salem witch trials or the movie Lincoln). Certainly since the Internet allowed us to be privy to and partake of everyone’s every thought this reality has been made evermore clear. But in the terrifying age of COVID, when matters are squarely focused on very real possibilities of sickness and death, the caustic noise of debate feels deflective and ill-advised. Especially with over 80,000 dead and numbers continuing to rise; despite disinformation, presidential fairy tales, and hopeful thinking.

Are we “all in this together,” as TV ads and inspirational messages insist?

Given the hyperbolically-armed lockdown protesters, privileged hysteria from beach-lovers denied their “fun in the sun,” overflowing NYC parks even in that COVID hotspot, and the hoots of restaurant diners defying distancing measures to make a point and grab a sandwich, I’d say we are not.

Though, were we ever?

We seemed to be at first, when fear and deep knowledge deficit had us vulnerable, eager for information and instruction. We stayed glued to TV news, social media, the endless articles and videos explaining the circumstances, scaring us straight with previously unfathomable death predictions and admonishments to stay home for our very survival. It felt like a mashup of World War Z, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, and The Birds, and we were terrified, confused, and compliant… until the inevitable happened.

Politics creeped in.

As it always does. As it so vociferously does during this unfortunate time of Trump.

The predictable polarization and agenda-pushing of deeply divided partisans then took over what should have been a unified response (think post-9/11 solidarity or Brits during the blitzkrieg), and turned it into a counter-productive melee that, most destructively, dismissed true experts in lieu of political chest-pounding. In the midst of expertise and science-driven guidance and direction, and at the behest and lead of the current president, sensible, cohesive “pandemic management” got sideswiped, ambushed, co-opted and bushwhacked by conspiracy-theorists, right-wing propagandists, Republican enablers and naysayers, and an exceedingly narcissistic and desperate president most concerned about his polling, his pocketbook, and his chances of re-election (as has been the case since 1.20.17).

Which meant that every fact, every truth, every wise recommendation or life-saving precaution was contradicted or dismissed by Fox News and their braying bevy of sneering, glinty-eyed disinformers hellbent on driving the message that all this caretaking, distancing, and quarantining was just the pussified prescription of idiots who bought into hoax and hyperbole. “If you believe in freedom and the American way, people, you’ll strap on your bazooka, get out there in your red hat and unmasked face, and lockstep into any building or American street you wish, COVID be damned!”

And that message was embraced: science and medicine, compassion and empathy, protection of and concern for fellow humans, particularly medical personnel risking their lives to save those of others’, all became LESS IMPORTANT than politics and partisan arrogance. Taking their cues from an increasingly erratic, dishonest, and inept president, the great divide between red/blue factions became strangely emblemized by those who cared enough to wear a mask and those who didn’t, right on up to the Oval Office.

Which is insane.

Because COVID-19 isn’t discriminatory. It doesn’t care if you’re a #MAGA supporter or a “Bernie bro,” Adam Schiff or Rand Paul, Barack Obama or Donald Trump. It makes no distinction between the viewers of Laura Ingraham, Tucker Carlson, and Sean Hannity, or those devoted to Rachel, Chris, and Lawrence. It’s prepared to infect in a restaurant, at the beach, around your dining table, or in the White House. Its viral mandate is to give not one hoot about the tanking economy, your failing business, the stock market, or cancellation of an entire season on Broadway. It’s hearty, indefatigable, and determined to follow its evolutionary imperative like a terminator with spikes, and no amount of partisan-driven bluster and braggadocio will diminish its ability to infect you and/or use you as a carrier capable of infecting others.

We’re certainly all in that together, political affiliation notwithstanding.

So why wouldn’t you wear a mask? Why wouldn’t you hedge your bets of infection, tip the scale towards protection, do what you could to help mitigate transmission of this deadly virus in every way available? What possible rationale defends the act of gathering in large groups with no masks and little space in-between when science tells you how foolhardy that is? Even if you’re convinced of your own imperviousness, how can you justify even the possibility of contributing to another person’s illness or even death?

How does being Republican, a right-wing conservative, or a follower of Donald Trump protect you from all the vulnerabilities endemic to every human being? It doesn’t. It simply deludes you into thinking it does, and that is very dangerous, for you, and for those you come near.

Even if predictions turn out to be exaggerated, even if cases drop faster than expected, even if the virus “disappears without a vaccine” (as Trump so blithely disinforms), it’s here now, it’s infecting now, it’s killing now, and if 80,000+ deaths in three months isn’t sobering to you, enough to compel you to take the simplest of mitigating actions, I’d check both your pulse and soul.

A guy who disagrees with me tweeted today that, “It is 100% about fear. We are all capable of assessing our own level of personal risk and acting accordingly. If you are afraid then you stay home where, ironically, most COVID patients are getting sick.”

He was referencing an article about, specifically, new hospitalizations in NYC, while conveniently leaving out the fact that catching COVID at home means you or someone in the family pod brought the virus in from the outside. I also countered that it’s not “fear” driving smart people to stick to precautions; it’s a healthy dose of self-preservation and an abiding sense of compassion and concern for others you might asymptomatically infect, which is why, particularly, masking is important:

“A cloth face covering is not intended to protect the wearer, but may prevent the spread of virus from the wearer to others. This would be especially important in the event that someone is infected but does not have symptoms. A cloth face covering should be worn whenever people must go into public settings (grocery stores, for example).” CDC FAQs

Sometimes it’s hard to protect people from themselves.

I can only hope that smarter, more caring people refuse to be bullied, insulted, or made to feel small for being smart. We do have to figure out how to bring the economy back to life, but both business owners and other patrons have to look past frustrations, financial concerns, and political posturing to realize that the majority of Americans remain worried that restrictions lifted too early will have a deleterious effect moving forward, and that has to be recognized.

It means the flouters are outnumbered. It means good business owners must explore how to open safely enough to actually bring the majority back. It means the noise and protests and tantrumming of right-wing foot-stompers are drowned out by the silence of those who prioritize safety and health, theirs and others.

It means, people, please wear a damn mask.

Photo by Tobias Rehbein on Unsplash

Visit www.lorrainedevonwilke.com for details and links to LDW’s books, music, photography, and articles.

Maturity vs. Purity: Which Will Drive Democrats in Election 2020?

On January 3, 2020January 8, 2020 By Lorraine Devon WilkeIn Latest Thoughts

When I was a kid growing up in Catholic schools there was much discussion on the topic of “purity.” We were awash in demands to maintain it, honor it; fight any urge to sully it. “Impure thoughts” were sins, “impure actions” were damnable, but being a sentient little girl with an open mind I was beset by both (albeit of strictly PG nature) even before puberty hit. As you can imagine, I spent significant time in confessionals penancing for those biological curiosities.

“Purity” itself is a curious word. Signifying “immaculateness,” “cleanness” and “untaintedness,” it’s also aligned with “whiteness” (hmmm…) and a slew of other definitions suggesting it’s the condition of being free of guilt, evil, pollution, debasement, and other contaminates that make a thing, or person, one presumes, undesirable.

As applied to political candidates, how does “purity” play? Are those who fail to meet standards of hard-left progressives (as opposed to, say, regular, moderate, or center progressives) deigned sullied and contaminated, unworthy of political consideration? Who decides how pure one needs to be to pass the test; can someone be pure on one issue, “tainted” on another, and are candidates ever graded on a curve?

I ask because, as occurred in 2016, the wholesale slamming of good, decent people running in the Democratic primary is again happening in the name of “purity testing.” Spend any time on Twitter or other social media and you’ll find biblical threads of caustic debate dedicated to the parsing of and pouncing on of anyone who dares tilt from the hardest of hard left progressive platforms, often concluding with familiar foot-stomping assertions like, “if they steal it from us again I’m not voting for anyone!” (insert whichever us applies).

This, at a time when a certified lunatic looms in the White House and exorcising him from our national stage is paramount to the literal survival of many… of the world, at this point.

Perhaps those waving purity flags most vociferously are so dogged in their enthusiasm they’ve missed the unique urgency of this moment, determined, instead, to fight to the death for purist ideals without considering the impact a potential loss to Trump would impose not only on them, but those outside their bubble. Perhaps they’re framing this election as a pivotal moment when activists and socially conscious citizens are supposed to fight for essential, necessary change.

But here’s the rub: this isn’t like any other election. Not even close. This is a fight between good and evil, survival and destruction, democracy and authoritarianism. Rule of law and flagrant corruption. Life and death. Sanity and insanity. Peace and war.

Hyperbolic? Just look around, people… and we’re barely into the new year.

Younger voters can, perhaps, be excused for any confusion or myopia on the topic. They’re newer at this, idealistic as hell, and driven by passions unbowed by historical perspective. They’re activated, plugged in, and convinced about what they want, what they believe the country needs, and won’t accept otherwise. In a normal election, their indefatigability would be applauded. It is applauded, even now.

What isn’t? Tunnel-visioned political petulance. Assailing candidates under the shared tent who are deemed “not pure enough.” The “take my ball and go home” intransigence that is too often bundled with passion. We, as a nation, cannot afford that sense of entitlement, not ever, certainly not now.

But I get the enthusiasm. At the dawn of 2019, I was very vocal in my demand that we finally—and well behind 70+ other democracies—elect a female president. I wasn’t alone: the evolution of culture demanded it, the gender balance of our country demanded it; the logic of who, per countless studies, provides exemplary leadership and management skills demanded it. And though occasionally accused of “voting with my vagina” (thanks to the weary, sexist trope immortalized by purity cultist, Susan Sarandon), I made clear it wasn’t just about gender. It was about who I believed would best serve as president and who I believed could beat Trump.

I believed Kamala Harris was that person. So I attended rallies, wrote articles, spread the word, would have done more but then… she was out. After months of strangely vapid media coverage, pushback from purity testers snarling about her law enforcement background (amongst other things); unhelpful campaign blunders, predictable disdain from racist/sexist small-minds, and the burgeoning demand for mega-dollars as billionaires joined the fray, she dropped out and I lost my candidate.

Yep, ball in hand, facing the direction of home, I moped, snarled, and vented. Then I turned back around and reassessed. Nothing had changed in the #1 priority: beating Trump. Nor was there any less urgency to choose the candidate I believed was best positioned to do that. And not just in liberal, progressive enclaves, but out in the wide world of middle, southern, northern, eastern, western, blue collar, lower income, less liberal, more conservative, moderate, centrist Democratic America. The one with voices, experiences, and circumstances as diverse as our population; the one that doesn’t necessarily like Trump but tends to find “socialism” suspect and women presidents discomforting.

Party extremists may choose to ignore that huge, disparate demographic, but it’s at their peril. Mature voters know we need them all to get the job done.

Maturity vs. purity. That’s the stark choice for Democrats this go-around.

Circumstances in 2020 demand that citizens of compassion, empathy, and civic responsibility prioritize “the greater good,” a concept that transcends every other metric on the table. Anyone with a grasp of both history and the power of selective compromise knows our most urgent task at this moment is saving America—the world—from four more years of Trump, front-burning choices and decisions to best ensure his removal, thereby securing the survival of policies and platforms that aid all citizens, not just those who are rich, white, evangelical, or conservative.

It means understanding that purity, like perfection, is unattainable, and certain passions may have to be put on hold until we no longer have a deranged person in the White House. It means understanding that the noble principles many are fighting for—Medicare-for-All, student loan forgiveness, immigration reform, breaking the glass ceiling—can only be prioritized after the basic demand of beating Trump has been accomplished, when the possibility of losing an election comes without tangible risk to the health and welfare of an entire nation…the world.

Joe Walsh, an occasionally teeth-gnashing Republican who notoriously helped elect Trump in 2016 and has often espoused opinions likely to offend any liberal, is currently primarying him. And though who knows where he’ll lean post-Trump, at the moment he’s a Never Trumper earnestly apologizing for his part in Debacle 2016, speaking openly (a rare feat amongst Republicans) against the man and his corrupt administration. And Joe Walsh recently articulated my entire thesis in a 230-character tweet, making it a perfect summation of what’s at stake:

Agreed. Exactly. Bingo. Exclamation point. Read, repeat, retweet.

As I learned in grade school, purity may be touted as an admirable trait, but outside of diamonds, dog breeds, and organic soup, it doesn’t much allow room for life’s vagaries and the demand of circumstances. Maturity does. And being a mature voter in 2020 means prioritizing the “greater good” (urgency made even “greater” by Trump’s warmongering move of 1.3.20). It means supporting the Democratic ticket, whoever it is, and fighting like hell to get them elected.

Because purity means nothing if you have no power, and though protest votes, write-in votes, and third-party votes may feel righteous and rebellious, they will not get you what you want: power or progress.

They will only get you Trump… and nothing could be less pure or progressive than that.

Flag photo by Jonathan Simcoe on Unsplash
B&W voting photo by Element5 Digital on Unsplash

Visit www.lorrainedevonwilke.com for details and links to LDW’s books, music, photography, and articles.

When Did Being a Republican Become… THIS?

On October 25, 2019October 26, 2019 By Lorraine Devon WilkeIn Uncategorized4 Comments

I’ve known Republicans all my life.

Family members. Neighbors. Select friends. Workmates. Maybe even a boyfriend or two. And though my parents were Chicago-bred liberals, and I was most definitely raised with the political sensibilities of the “big tent” Democratic Party, I can’t remember a time when Republicans—their brand, their image, their policies and platforms; their mission, their words and deeds—were something that would make you grab the children and run screaming from the room.

Until now.

We all remember the old Republican Party, grand or otherwise. It was a party that used to stand for small government and free enterprise, with fewer regulations and lower taxes. It promoted fiscal responsibility, ideals of self-reliance and individuality, with a focus on family values and law and order. It emphasized national pride and valor, while supporting notions of human and civil rights, and peace and freedom throughout the world. In fact, it positioned itself as the “grown-up” party of conservative values, certainly in comparison to the freewheeling, wildly diverse, and politically liberal Democrats.

And they pulled it off for a while. At least some version of that idealized branding. They were able to wrap themselves in bright, shiny purpose and actually make their constituents feel that those mandates were being honored. Some Republicans became political stars: Lincoln, Teddy Roosevelt; Eisenhower. More recently, Ronald Reagan was a Republican who made them swoon. Despite his background as a “lowly actor,” his paternalistic—sometimes bumbling—oration; despite the Iran-Contra scandal, his lack of action on the civil rights and AIDS crises, even when evidence of his dementia became clear, they called him “The Great Communicator,” and his name was invoked by any member of the party who wanted to be seen as comparable in the slightest. A likeable, admirable Republican. Hey, even Bush Jr., whose administration was a clusterfuck of corruption, graft, and what some would frame as actual war crimes, was often referenced as someone “you’d like to have a beer with.”

Then came Trump.

The chaos and corruption that was imagined in the fever dreams of every single person who worked their ass off to see that he was not elected have now come screaming to life in full, horrifying, three-dimensional color. And in the months and years of his almost unfathomably toxic administration, the Republican Party has devolved into a thing so unrecognizable, so pandering and capitulating, so crass and enabling of crassness, that Ronald Reagan is quite possibly rolling over in his grave.

When did being a Republican become engaging in corrupt, criminal, even traitorous activities with foreign adversaries to win elections?

When did being a Republican become wearing a red hat intended to signal bigotry, ignorance, and “fear of other”?

When did being a Republican become impugning, insulting, and negating our national intelligence, justice, and law enforcement agents and agencies?

When did being a Republican become ignoring your constituency to pander to the petulant demands of the executive branch?

When did being a Republican become embracing, enabling, and propagating verifiable lies in an effort to win favor with a corrupt president?

When did being a Republican become running up the budget deficit nearly 50% in only 2+ years?

When did being a Republican become handing welfare (paid by taxpayers) to farmers after imposing tariffs that gutted them, gifting tax relief to the wealthiest among us, and doing everything possible to dismantle a healthcare system that actually works for the people who need it most?

When did being a Republican become disseminating lies, slander, insults, and ignorance on social media, emulating a POTUS who’s lowered every standard of decorum and decency?

When did being a Republican become ignoring protocols and rules set up by your own party to, instead, spuriously attack and defame the opposition?

When did being a Republican become dismissing the party leader’s stated declarations of sexual harassment and assault, while concurrently ignoring the legion of credible women who’ve accused him of the same?

When did being a Republican become agreeing with, sharing, even finding humor in vile, ugly name-calling by the man our children should look up to but cannot?

When did being a Republican become turning a blind eye to the inhumanity of caging asylum-seeking refugees, kidnapping their children, breaking up their families, and denying them legal rights?

When did being a Republican become advancing discrimination against Muslims, Mexicans, LGBTQ, people of color, women, and immigrants?

When did being a Republican become openly embracing white supremacists, Nazis, KKK, racists and bigots who see “America first!” as a battle cry for white nationalism?

When did being a Republican become insulting war heroes, dismissing the needs of vets, and treating national security like a dangerous and badly played game of “Risk”?

When did being a Republican become cozying up to inhumane dictators, even comparing them favorably to former presidents?

When did being a Republican become cowardice, spinelessness; an inability to speak truth frankly, or stand up for integrity and honor?

When did being a Republican become supporting, enabling, complying with, or otherwise propping up the most corrupt, inept person who’s ever been in the Oval Office?

When did being a Republican become something shameful?

Any group, certainly any political party, has its share of criminals, hooligans, fools, idiots, and the ethically challenged. I mean… Anthony Weiner. But as I watched Matt Gaetz and his Mindless Minions march in self-righteous lockstep to disrupt and violate a private impeachment hearing in a secure room, and listened as he and his cabal spewed nonsense about “secrecy” and “lack of transparency,” maligning the very respectable Adam Schiff as a Machiavellian purveyor of nefarious intent all while pretending to forget (or consciously ignoring) the fact that Trey Gowdy himself—the Wag of Benghazi Street—stated that the procedure was proceeding exactly as it should and in compliance with rules that, yes, REPUBLICANS put in place, I saw a Republican Party that had devolved to the very worst of human weakness, corruption, arrogance, and stupidity.

But it’s every day I see a Republican Party willing to ignore facts, lie with zeal, break laws, gaslight constituents, flout norms and protocols, demean and mudsling with the prattles of insecure bullies tap-dancing either at the behest of the Fool on the Hill or to gain his approval and acceptance. And every day I realize this party is no more.

It’s not “grand,” it’s not even “old,” because the Republican Party of yore is gone. The one that exists today is a mutant version of what came before, and until the snarling head of that beast has been removed, either by impeachment or election, this party will continue to metastasize into a dark, corrupt thing unrecognizable to the two-hundred-and-forty-three-years of Republicans who came before.

Until then, rethink, America. We have a country to save.

Photographs in order:
Jorgen Haland, Roya Ann Miller & Jon Tyson, all on Unsplash

Visit www.lorrainedevonwilke.com for details and links to LDW’s books, music, photography, and articles.

Time’s Up: Why America NEEDS a Female President. Now.

On March 2, 2019May 3, 2019 By Lorraine Devon WilkeIn Latest Thoughts3 Comments

Here’s an indisputable fact: There will always be qualified men. Always.

There’s no shortage of them, they’ve been around for ages. Able, intelligent, wise men who know their way around a political campaign, who exude charm and charisma (or don’t), who have the skill set to stir the masses (or at least their fanbase), and who can surely lead the country with the verve of a bona fide, passionate leader. We all know men like that. A few have been our presidents. In fact, all our presidents have been men. It’s the norm. The tradition. The way we do things here in America.

Ah, I love the smell of patriarchy in the zeitgeist.

Now, that’s not an insult to the qualified men; it’s a statement about how patriarchy works. It makes the ascendency of men to positions of power seem the inarguable norm, the expected outcome, the “way it’s always been” reality. It demands our fealty to the notion, without second thought, that these qualified men are, have been, and will continue to be “what presidential is,” asking: “Why would you want anybody else?”

“Anybody else” being anybody who isn’t a man.

That exact question proved such a conundrum in 2016 that a huge faction of Americans were more comfortable voting for the male candidate with no experience, no integrity, a history of vile, sexist behavior, and well-documented criminal bent, than the hyper-qualified, profoundly experienced, and “most admired” public servant who, as the media and others made sure we believed, wasn’t likable enough, had a screechy voice, used a private email server, and, most notably, was a female.

We don’t do female in America’s White House.

Not behind the desk of the Oval Office. Not leading the American military. Not executing “executive orders” like so many PTA memos. Oh, they can be First Lady; they can change the drapes, handle the caterers, run interference between the male president and the media. But president?

Nah.

Patriarchy is and always has been an exacting social mandate, one that repeatedly reminds us that all these qualified men floating around are perfectly capable of handling the job without intervention from any outside contingent: Women. Sticking with the guys is neater, it’s more palatable, it’s what we’ve always done, so “don’t you gals worry yourselves, we fellas got it covered. Just step aside and let men do men’s work.”

Sure. We’ve seen how well that’s gone over the last two+ years, a debacle that’s especially galling in light of the assault-and-battery of Hillary Clinton, but, hey, you guys go ahead and make America great again, right?

Putting aside quips and sarcasm, a real question emerges: Why is it that, out of over 70 nations around the world, some of which are less politically progressive than America, we have never elected a female president? Beyond the cultural umbrella of “patriarchy,” under which all anti-woman “isms” reside, what are the specific bugaboos for why we remain entrenched in such antiquated, sexist views of who gets to be POTUS?

I thought this was an interesting take from the New York Times in “Over 70 Nations Have Been Led by Women. So Why Not the U.S.?“:

Some scholars say that European democracies may view women as more suited to high political office because their governments are known for generous social-welfare programs, something that seems maternal. In contrast, the president of the United States is primarily seen as commander in chief, which is a frame more difficult for women to fit into.

“America is still seen as the policeman of the world, the guardian of the world and we still have a very gendered version of what leadership means,” said Laura A. Liswood, secretary general of the United Nations Foundation’s Council of Women World Leaders, a network of current and former female prime ministers and presidents. “Not only do we have to be liked, we also have to be tough.”

Sue Thomas, a senior research scientist at the Pacific Institute for Research and Evaluation in Santa Cruz, Calif., said that unlike political leadership posts elsewhere, the American presidency “is seen as a very masculine institution that for historical reasons is extremely hard for a female to approach.” [emphasis added by me]

That last sentence there, the one I put in bold? That’s patriarchy. That’s sexism. And after the systemic, overwhelming catastrophe that has been the Trump administration, particularly in that “very masculine” role of Commander-in-Chief, the bottom falls out of that argument with the force of a landslide.

But let’s go back to my posit, “there will always be qualified men so we don’t really need women to run” meme. If you think I’m being overly harsh, let’s look, for a moment, at what’s currently happening in the Democratic primary:

Even after the 2018 Midterms, when a battalion of strong, diverse women not only stormed the castle but claimed historical victories in every region; even after the early declarations of brilliant, accomplished, experienced, and viable female candidates like Kamala Harris, Elizabeth Warren, Amy Klobuchar, and Kirsten Gillibrand, even after all that, what is happening? A slew of very qualified men are slowly jumping in, one-by-one and after these women already declared, implicitly stating that they’re the best person for the job. Them, the qualified male.

And sure, why not? Why shouldn’t they jump in? The primary is a wide open field, everyone’s invited, and some of these are very appealing men. But, still, the message they convey by not getting behind one of the female candidates, by not endorsing and showing their support, is, quite simply, this: “You’re all great, and in another world I might get behind you and work like hell to get you elected, but even, and despite, my desire to change the gender gap so my daughter may one day run for president, I’m not going to coalesce around any of you because I think what I bring to the table is more viable.”

Because they’re a qualified man.

I don’t care about these qualified men. I mean, I care about them as people; I wish them well, thank them for their service (if that applies), look forward to their future endeavors, and hope they’ll use some of their political capital to change the archaic narrative in this country that says, “Women are not American presidents.”

But right now I don’t care about their charm, their platforms, ideas, experiences, and cult fandom. Not enough to negate and, once again, put aside what I believe is a much bigger, much more culturally relevant and urgent issue: the essential and unequivocal breaking of the glass ceiling for (very qualified) American women in regards to the presidency.

It should have happened last time. By all accounts it did happen last time, but patriarchy (and a few other noxious elements) swept in to tilt the playing field, and millions have suffered since.

Someone asked me recently: “Is it just a gender thing for you, a feminism thing? Doesn’t your single-minded focus on electing a female president almost scream of affirmative action?”

You know, it does… because it kind of is. But before Susan Sarandon comes at me squawking about how I’m voting with my vagina, let me assert my rationale. We’ll start with this, an excellent definition of affirmative action:

Affirmative Action is a program of positive action, undertaken with conviction and effort to overcome the present effects of past practices, policies, or barriers to equal employment opportunity and to achieve the full and fair participation of women, minorities and individuals with disabilities found to be underutilized in the workforce based on availability.

The purpose of affirmative action is to establish fair access to employment opportunities to create a workforce that is an accurate reflection of the demographics of the qualified available workforce in the relevant job market. Affirmative Action policies and programs are tools whereby additional efforts are made to recruit, hire and promote qualified women, minorities and individuals with disabilities. [emphasis added by me]

I could basically highlight and bold that entire thing.

Because there is not “fair access,” the presidency is not an “accurate reflection of the qualified available workforce in the relevant job market”; there is certainly not a level playing field for women running for public office.

We already see it in the way media is covering the current race; while they gush over Pete, get starry-eyed about Joe, and titter about Bernie’s fate, they’re castigating female candidates for how they eat, what they wear, how they manage their staff, who they marry, what their heritage is, what music they listen to and when. Sadly, I don’t expect that to change much as things ramp up. Patriarchy rules the media, too.

Another fact? An incredibly salient, pertinent, critical fact in this Trump era of caustically stupid leadership? Women are better managers, better leaders. That’s not just me saying that; it’s been documented.

During the 2016 campaign I wrote an article on the topic, You Say You Want a Revolution? I Do Too. It’s Why I Support Hillary Clinton, and since quoting oneself is unseemly, let me at least re-share this paragraph from the Harvard Business Review study that found, by a comprehensive list of metrics and significant percentages, that women were better leaders, better managers of staff:

“Specifically, at all levels, women are rated higher in fully 12 of the 16 competencies that go into outstanding leadership. And two of the traits where women outscored men to the highest degree — taking initiative and driving for results — have long been thought of as particularly male strengths.”

Yet, as of 2019, those strengths and competencies have been given short shrift in presidential politics. Time’s up.

Much like ethnic and racial minorities yearn to see themselves represented fully and fairly in every facet of culture, so do women, particularly in the arenas of business, academics, and, certainly, politics. The “old boys’ club” legacy found in the vaunted halls of political power is as dated and regressive as sexist attitudes and behaviors from the pre-#MeToo era. As cultural evolutions and a changing zeitgeist dismantle the tolerance around those issues, so do those influences change the acceptance of patriarchy, misogyny, sexism, and gender negation. Women have worked long and hard to take their rightful place on a level playing field, but until that field is, indeed, level—which it is not—a form of affirmative action must step in and demand it.

Which means, at this moment in time, that every man throwing his hat into the Democratic presidential ring must reconsider.

That every man who cares about uplifting society, who desires a world in which girls can aspire to the highest office without fear of personal evisceration and political annihilation; every man who wants to provide the world, the country, with the very best leaders, the very best managers, the most compassionate, empathetic, inspiring communicators, must pull their hat out of that ring, take a step back until another time; put their political egos in a lockbox (remember that?), and jump full-bore into supporting one of the supremely qualified women running for president. To help ensure that she wins and, in doing so, inexorably change the face of American culture.

Will you help us accomplish that, you progressive, thoughtful, qualified men? We’d appreciate it. And, hey, being VP of the very first female president in American history has a nice ring to it too.

Three women photo by rawpixel on Unsplash
Girl with flag photo by Joe Pregadio on Unsplash

Lorraine’s third novel, The Alchemy of Noise, has an April 2019 pub date, with pre-orders currently available at Amazon and elsewhere.

Visit www.lorrainedevonwilke.com for details and links to LDW’s books, music, photography, and articles.

Despite It All: What I Loved Best About 2018

On December 31, 2018January 1, 2019 By Lorraine Devon WilkeIn Latest Thoughts6 Comments

End-of-year lists. I love them. The “best of” ones, anyway. They’re like small-plate nostalgia buffets, filled with tidbits of all the stuff you loved, distillations of an entire year from the various points of view of clever writers, of which there are many. I’m not sure how clever Iam, but as I watched the last sunset of the year dip into darkness, I thought about making my own.

This would not be announcement-worthy except for the fact I’ve found myself damn near speechless this year, particularly in terms of political opining, quiescence brought on by a combination of outrage exhaustion, a sense of swimming in an overpopulated stream, and the fact that so much of what I think and feel is amply covered by the countless other writers op-edding on a daily basis—and for media sources with far higher profiles than my little blog (I still haven’t forgiven HuffPost for shutting down the contributors’ platform!).

Add to that the “churning machine of political horrors”—also known as the Trump Administration—which pumps out ceaseless vomit with such perpetuity one would have to write five articles a day to stay current, and I ain’t got it in me right now.

But as I got to retrospecting, I was reminded that though these last twelve months have been truly nuts on so many levels, they were also replete with tremendous progress, solid wins; the evolution of new voices, and hearty activism. Enough fabulous things happened, both personally and more expansively, that I became compelled to compile.

In no particular order, not listed by virtue of gravitas or merit, the select things, people, and events that helped make this year a wonderful one… despite it all:

What I Loved Best About 2018:

• The Women’s March, Los Angeles, January 21, 2018. We were almost a million strong (750,000) just in LA alone. The numbers worldwide were astonishing. And beyond the sheer power of that many people gathered to protest racism, sexism, corruption, and sexual assault, the event marked the first time in many years I gathered with all five of my sisters (we call ourselves “The Sixters”) to march together. With matching signs designed by our youngest sib, Grace, it was a phenomenal, empowering moment of familial and global solidarity. I do hope whatever pulls and tears have come into the Women’s March group from various quarters of late can be transcended in 2019 to keep the momentum going. We’ll see. But 2018’s event was unforgettable.

• We got a cat. That may sound silly but it’s not. I’ve watched this fuzzy little creature, who came to us from a shelter on January 5th, literally change the tenor of our habitat with her inexhaustible energy and character. I’ve watched a husband who deals with Post Concussion Syndrome become the warm landing spot for an animal who loves him, who follows him around like a puppy; engages with him in absurd games of fetch, and with whom conversation often ensues (on both sides, mind you!). She is a delightful little being who’s brought particular and unique joy to our home and has made walking in the door an event. No small thing. We call her Georgy Girl. She occasionally likes me too.

• The Parkland Kids: While caustic contrarians like Louis C.K. and Dana Loesch persist in using them as target practice for their bile, those of us who’ve been frustrated and horrified by stagnancy within the “gun reform” debate saw a group of high school students who’d survived a mass shooting take their rage, fear, and sorrow and turn it into one of the most powerful political movements of recent years. I don’t care what minor critiques are dragged up, I don’t care how young and occasionally callow they may be at times; I am not remotely interested in David Hogg’s SAT scores or Emma Gonzalez’s sexuality. There is NO ONE who has more quickly, cogently, and fearlessly dragged the convoluted issue of guns into the spotlight and onto the political stage than these kids. On top of that, they rallied thousands of young people to get registered and to the polls during the midterms, activism which contributed to record-breaking turnout, and they are continuing the movement forward from there. I do believe they will create real change… because no group has ever stood up to the corruption and callousness of the NRA with such earnest and passionate fervor.

• Attitudes about Climate Change & Conservation Continue to Evolve: Despite America having an idiot president who denies science, along with the other money-grubbers who can’t see the forest for the green (lining their pockets), short-sighted dismissal about the longterm assignment of saving the planet is becoming less and less acceptable, not unlike how attitudes about smoking or littering evolved. Reports detailing the dire circumstances that inexorably face our planet, horrific fires we’re told will become the norm, droughts, pestilence, and changing tides, all remind us that we’re a finite element in a grand universe that needs, demands, our immediate attention. And more people are paying attention. While Trump and his toadies temporarily regress America on this issue, this detailed breakdown from Quartz shows there is hope across the international stage. Please read it and do continue, however you do, to challenge and lessen your own carbon footprint.

• I found a publisher. This may not resonate widely, or with anyone who hasn’t pursued a creative career, but it was a game changer for me in ’18. As one who has pursued the arts from the time I was told I could sing or cobble a story together of some merit, I have largely been an indie artist “doing it for herself,” as Annie and Aretha might sing. I’ve had scads of people throughout my time—managers, producers, collaborators, agents, etc.—who pushed things in directions I wanted to go (and sometimes arrived), but despite tremendous wins and scores of incredible experiences, no part of my particular journey has been a slam-dunk. I wasn’t the actress plucked from a coffee shop, the singer pulled on stage by a rock star, the novelist garnering literati applause. I was that other one. The one making my own stage. Working with indie film and record producers, self-financed productions, self-published books.

So this year, when publisher Brooke Warner of She Writes Press, a small but innovative and emerging force in the publishing industry, said she wanted to publish my upcoming novel, The Alchemy of Noise, despite it being controversial, despite my independent resume, despite industry resistance to off-trend voices, I felt the embracing welcome of an opened door. I don’t know how it will go when the book’s finally out (April 9th)—I’m hopeful, they’re expert, early reader reviews (so far) are good—but just to have a group of experienced pros choose to work in tandem with me to achieve this goal is a balm.

• The Midterms: In all my life I have never been more concerned, more involved, or more invested in Midterm elections than I was this year. Anyone who knows me, reads me, converses with me, knows what I think about the current administration, so it’s no secret that I believed the outcome of this election truly was “life or death.” The urgency of implementing checks and balances into what has become a blatant flouting of rule-of-law and all manner of integrity felt tantamount to pulling a drowning society from a raging swamp. I spent hours, stamps, and handwritten agony (can anyone handwrite anymore??) sending out hundreds of campaign postcards for candidates around the country, and the unbelievable turnout, the overwhelming wins, the feeling that we now have a most amazingly diverse and capable group of adults stepping into the cult frenzy, is overwhelming. We did good. Let’s PLEASE make sure we do good for 2020. That’s a whole other article. But I think you know what I mean…

• Social Media Activism: Say what you will about Twitter and Facebook (and there’s plenty to say), in 2018 both platforms became an even more powerful outlet for righteous anger and social activism, particularly on issues related to racism and white privilege. When New York lawyer Aaron Schlossberg bombarded a group of Spanish-speaking customers in a sandwich shop with his vile, racist nonsense, Twitter and Facebook outed him without mercy, and before long he was out of a job and had mariachi bands serenading his apartment building. When Barbecue Becky called the cops on a black family “committing the crime” of grilling in a park, Dr. Jennifer Schulte faced an onslaught of pushback that went all the up to her place of employment and had police considering her commitment. The list of perpetrators from every walk of life assaulting good men, women, and children of color is long, unfortunately, but there continues to be conscious, compassionate, and justifiably angry people with smart phones and social media platforms to take them on, giving activist citizens the empowerment of knowing silence is not an option when faced with hate and bigotry.

• Movies with/about music: I don’t mean musicals—thought I love musicals—I mean A Star is Born and Bohemian Rhapsody. I mean movies that climb inside the life of singers, songwriters, and bands, and bring us with them to watch the music evolve, see the excitement and anxiety of the lifestyle unfold, feel the power of creativity. I’m not interested in critiquing these films—plenty of reviewers have done just that—but both the films mentioned had me energized, engaged, entertained, and moved throughout. That’s always an amazing moviegoing experience. And A Star Is Born, particularly, not only resonated with me for all sorts of expected reasons given my band singer history, but the telling of its story touched me deeply. Both stars are phenomenal, and though I have wearied of drug & alcohol related “Behind the Music” narratives, Bradley Cooper did an extraordinary job of bringing vulnerability and true sorrow to the inexorable trajectory his character experienced. It showed a side of addiction rarely seen. And Lady Gaga… well. What can I say: listening to the fragility and crack in her voice on “I’ll Never Love Again” before it transforms into a soaring power ballad wraps me in tears and goosebumps every time.

• Political transcendence: Allowing a corrupt and amoral conman like Donald Trump into the White House has been one of the most egregious errors in American history. I fought with everything I had—my activism, my voice, my articles, my vote—to keep that from happening, but the power of corruption, the short-sightedness of one-issue voting, the collusion and involvement of foreign adversaries, the willingness of too many to ignore blatant bigotry, lack of intellect, and a classless, corrosive worldview, toppled the good sense of an entire nation. We have paid, and will continue to pay, a very high price for that folly. Yet, while the carnage of Trump has shaken us to the core (and when I say “us” I mean anyone who cares more for humanity than stock prices, who believes all people are created equal, who respects and embraces science; who leads with compassion, empathy, consideration, and love), it has also awakened American consciousness in ways we might not have expected. It struck me that my upcoming novel is called The Alchemy of Noise, a narrative exploring the notion of pulling the good, the gold, out of the very darkest of situations, and I do believe America is finding its own alchemy in this era of Trump. (Read this piece: The halfway point: What have two years of Trump’s wrecking ball done to America?. It is quite brilliant and hopeful… I love the line, “democratic renaissance.”) 2018 has been a “democratic renaissance.” That will only continue to evolve. I have faith in that. Don’t you?

• My circle, real and virtual: As I traverse life on a day-to-day basis, whether meeting friends for lunch, gathering with family; singing songs for my mother in hope of shaking her fog, or spending time in virtual conversations with the many incredible people with whom I engage on social media, I am reminded of how lucky I am to have such evolved, conscious, caring, active people in my global circle. The list is long, you know who you are, and though I would need another blog to name each of you, please know how grateful I am for your hearts and minds, your anger and activism, your humor and good-will, your pictures and silly videos, your articles and reviews, your generosity in helping me with my work, writing me blurbs, commenting on my articles, or simply sharing your own thoughtful perspectives either privately or on my pages. It all means something. You have helped me endure the insanity of our times; you’ve made me laugh, shared cakes I want to eat, brought brilliant art to my attention, and appreciated mine. Thank you. Let’s keep doing it all of that. It brings joy.

• The power of love: That may sound treacly, but I don’t mean it that way. I mean it in the most transcendental, soulful, joy-empowering way. This year I had the pleasure of, once again, performing music with my brother, Tom, who I adore, and three other people I adore as well: Ben (his son/my nephew; Jeff, and Erik), and the love shared and experienced in putting our Sixth & Third shows together could light the grid for years. I also spent about six weeks putting a milestone birthday video together for my beloved husband, and, in the process, was reminded of every moment of our lives together, filling my heart beyond words. The family, the friends, the projects, the labors of love, our children, our pets, our closest friends… it was an overwhelming 18-minute blast of love, and it reminded me to remind myself to always remember and never forget… you know what I mean?

There are more, but these are the highlights, the things that made this year resonate and stand up to the opposite side of this list. I don’t want to enumerate the opposite side; I don’t need to. I only need to keep moving forward wrapped in the power and solidarity of the good side, the “renaissancing” side! I have faith in us. I have hope for us. I know love will drive us. Which is good, because, like Todd Rundgren, I do believe love is the answer.

Happy New Year, my friends! And welcome, 2019. Let’s make some history together.

All photos, except where attributed, by LDW.

Lorraine’s third novel, The Alchemy of Noise, has an April 2019 pub date, with pre-orders currently available at Amazon. Visit www.lorrainedevonwilke.com for details and links to LDW’s other books, music, photography, and articles.

Selective Outrage Is All the Rage. Just See ‘Michelle Wolf’

On April 29, 2018April 29, 2018 By Lorraine Devon WilkeIn Latest Thoughts8 Comments

I wonder how many times a day I read an article, note a passing Tweet, hear some frothing nonsense on the news, and mutter to myself, head shaking and eyes rolling, “Oh, dear God, are you kidding me?!”

Often. A lot. More than I’d like.

In fact, the sheer density and degree of nonsense worth swearing about is shock-and-awe inspiring, and if I didn’t hold tight to my policy of “limited news intake,” I swear I’d be swearing like it was the very air I breathe.

Instead, I choose my outrages, the things get me motivated enough to Tweet, post, Instagram; sign petitions, write my congresswoman, or send notes of protest to women-beating pizza shop managers, or elite clothing stores selling “quaint” slave bracelets; Christian bakers unwilling to make cakes for gay couples, or the latest police department defending cops who kill black men for holding cell phones.

These things seem to be worth raging over. As do Trump’s relentless acts of idiocy and demagoguery; a Republican party whose ambitions trump true patriotism and rule of law; a cabinet enriching itself on taxpayer dollars; a partisan agenda wrapped in cruelty, xenophobia, greed, and discrimination across countless demographics. Go crazy on those, yes; there’s plenty to go around and surely (sadly) more where all that came from.

But what I find disingenuous and head scratching during these days of “all outrage all the time” is the selectiveness of what piques the ire of some. What gets them off the couch and over to their computers to defend egregious prevaricators, tweet indignant denunciations of this or that; demand apologies from those skewering politics, or announce ad hominem attacks to come.

Yes, all that happened this weekend. And you might think the brouhaha inspiring such response was Trump’s insane Michigan speech in which he actually said, “If we don’t get border security, we’re going to have no choice, we’ll close down the country.”

Or the news that “ICE held an American man in custody for 1,273 days.”

Or the stunning fact that “Neo-Nazis Burned a Swastika After Their Rally in Georgia” a few days ago.

Nah. All the hissing fit to print—on Twitter and elsewhere—was over a very funny comedian, Michelle Wolf, who, hired to do the traditional roast at the end of the White House Correspondents’ Dinner, fearlessly took on everyone from Trump, to Democrats, to Pence, to Kellyanne Conway, and, most spectacularly, Sarah Huckabee Sanders, the snarling curmudgeon who sprinkles lies like parade candy from her Press Secretary podium on a daily basis. Wolf’s routine set the media, social and otherwise, on fire. Did you hear anything about that ICE case or the Michigan speech? I didn’t either. There was too much noise coming from those who, instead, selected Wolf’s irreverence as the target of their indignation.

Surely, as satire is meant to do, Wolf’s routine was cringe-worthy at times, occasionally caustic, on-the-mark, over-the-line, very funny, and bracingly unvarnished. The transcript and video are everywhere; dive in when you can, but suffice it to say, she called out the chicanery and corruption of the White House and its two cheerleading ladies-in-waiting in ways that those of us who literally scream at the TV every time either opens her mouth have been waiting for someone to do for a very long time.

In a nutshell: she called the liars… liars. And what did the outrage machine do in response? Check the links above: lots of foot stomping, spittle-flying, head-shaking, “well, I never!” kind of “aren’t we above this sort of thing?” foolishness meant to illustrate how noble and hands-off they think a comic hired to do a roast should be when taking on the most corrupt, dishonest, likely treasonous; rude, bigoted, and unfathomably stupid administration… and the media that chronicles it.

Defending Sarah Sanders from a joke that was not only hilarious but bitingly spot-on became the ’cause celebre’ of everyone from Andrea Mitchell to Mika Brzezinski, to, of course, every sputtering journalist on the right, and even some on the left. Apparently they saw this as a red-line dig on her looks. Really?? Did they miss the subtext? Here’s the joke; you decide.

“I think she’s very resourceful. But she burns facts and then she uses that ash to create a perfect smokey eye. Like maybe she’s born with it, maybe it’s lies. It’s probably lies.”

It seems to do exactly what satire is meant to do. It’s also funny.

Look, everyone is free to be as outraged as they want by whatever piques their pricklies, but when an entire weekend’s discourse is dominated by the sound and fury of journalists, pundits, and opinion makers who found the candid and irreverently honest routine of a smart female comedian to be worth more wrath than the ICE story or Trump’s mentally unhinged declaration to shut down the country, selective outrage has become its own form of madness.

Considering the cynical, sexist, bigoted, and mendacious remarks often made about Hillary Clinton, Michelle Obama, or any other women on the left (even the men on the left… thanks, Obama!), a little snark about an incessantly dishonest woman using the ash of her lies for eye makeup seems tame. And, again, funny.

But do let me know when the madding crowd starts demanding, en masse, the apologies of profiling police departments and overzealous ICE agents. Give a holler when justice for the assault victims of the man in the White House becomes a viral trend. Tweet out when journalists start refusing to eat up the Press Secretary’s spoon-fed dishonesty, or when provocateurs like Dennis Miller spend days thinking of ways to attack Nazis burning swastikas, or men drugging and raping women.

When that happens, we’ll all gather in the virtual town square to celebrate the power of our communal outrage… and Michelle Wolf will keep telling the truths that make people laugh.

Visit www.lorrainedevonwilke.com for details and links to LDW’s books, music, photography, and articles.

| Rock+Paper+Music |

Tag: Donald Trump

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What I Loved Best About 2018:

Selective Outrage Is All the Rage. Just See ‘Michelle Wolf’

Joining HAMILTON in “performance protest.”

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Maturity vs. purity. That’s the stark choice for Democrats this go-around.

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What I Loved Best About 2018:

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