Friday Night Double Feature

I have always been fascinated by the filibuster.

What is it? And how does it work? And why is it so marvelously disruptive? “Of all the Senate’s conventions,” writes Michelle Cottle in The Atlantic, “none sparks quite the same curiosity, or fury, as the filibuster. The practice is, after all, what imbues individual senators with the power to hold the rest of their colleagues hostage…in theory, the filibuster provides for extended debate of an issue until at least 60 members call for ‘cloture.’ ’’ 

With that, I double-featured it last Friday night, with a viewing of Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, with James Stewart and the brilliant Jean Arthur, and “The Stackhouse Filibuster,” (Season 2, Episode 17) of The West Wing

In addition to watching Democracy go to work, one of the most delightful aspects of watching Mr. Smith and The Stackhouse Filibuster is seeing the parade of character actors wandering through – referred to as the Mighty Sorkin Players, in the case of  The West Wing. Seeing It’s A Wonderful Life’s Thomas Smith and Beulah Bondi in Mr. Smith, I realized there could be another troupe, as well – the Mighty Capra Players.

What can one say about great writing, marvelous casting, and superb directing? Oh, I forgot, the subject matter: Democracy and its never-ending quest to live up to its own expectations.

 

The Ability to Breathe

Transition are hard.

This is what they always said when I taught young children. And they were right, for there was nothing more chaotic than the scene after the gentle ring of the clean-up bell. What was most fascinating was there was always one child who became completely hyped up and paralyzed all at the same time. My job was to tend to that child and break down the process: “Can you please pick up one toy and place it on the shelf?” Such a child needed this guidance so they could to get to a calmer place, which the routine of our day always provided.

In our adult world, the endless electronic notifications we now get are like the clean- up bell — anxiety producing and chaos invoking at the same time. The problem is there is no adult in the room to guide us. We have no leadership to calm us down and allay our fears. We are completely on our own.

Which is why the news on Friday of Corona reaching the West Wing sent me into a tailspin, making me feel exactly like that child who needed my guidance in the classroom. I wandered around my house, turning, reversing course, completely unsure of what I was doing.

Finally, I sat down and took a deep breath, knowing that this left-field moment was like all the other ones that have come before, leaving me completely without control except for the ability to breathe.

 

A Few Good Days

“That Monday in October, 1943. A beautiful day with the buoyancy of a bird…in the park…we giggled, ran, sang along the paths toward the old, wooden boathouse…leaves floated on the lake; on the shore, a park-man was fanning a bonfire of them…Aprils have never meant much to me, autumns seem that season of beginning…”

— Truman Capote, in Breakfast at Tiffany’s

Fall is my favorite season in the city. The days are cooler, but the sun shines bright. School has started and there seems to be a sense of purpose in the air.

This week felt different as I started to work with my students in person once more. The walks through Brooklyn seemed like the old days, only months ago, with a stop in a diner for a cup of coffee and a “Welcome back!” from the owner. We caught up and I checked in on his staff, many of whom have served me for years and even remember my order: “turkey burger deluxe and coffee, right?”

On another afternoon I was thrilled to find my favorite Italian bakery open, ready for me to purchase fresh-baked bread, and exactly the cookies my family bought when I was a little girl and we were going to visit my grandmother.

In Manhattan, after a doctor’s appointment, I sat on the steps of the Met, which swirled with activity, unlike the sad days of April when the steps were empty, and the sounds of sirens were everywhere. I watched a pigeon give me the eye as I munched on my pastry while hyperactive fountain sprays rose and fell before me.

Back to school has a different meaning this year, as I, too, am a student again, this time taking a slightly different path from writing and literature into the world of American History. This is an area that has always interested me but unfortunately has had a kind of four-year-cycle shelf life. Every presidential election I ponder the meaning of the Electoral College and subsequently do nothing about it.

This election is more anxiety producing than any in memory and taking a class, in addition to writing postcards for the Biden campaign, has given me that sense of purpose. Otherwise, as I stared at my ceiling in despair, I felt like I was standing by an ocean and watching a sinking ship.  

I walk across 82nd Street, past stunning 19th century mansions as I listen to Ella Fitzgerald: “Autumn in New York is often mingled with pain…” Although mums line stoops and pumpkins are starting to appear, everything is changed this year. I long for the bright spirit of an October Monday in Breakfast at Tiffany’s, until I remember that this scene takes place in 1943 and the U.S. had already entered World War II.

We are fighting our own sort of war this fall, both physical and ideological, with massive casualties and no end in sight. On the bad days, I want to lay my head down and weep, as the sadness seems to overwhelm. On my few good days I feel better for the comfort that comes in small moments...a casual conversation, a cup of coffee, and the bright sun of a fall day in New York.

An Interview with Liz Pitofsky, Founder of the Service Learning Project

For the past two years I’ve had the pleasure of teaching at the Service Learning Project (SLP) whose mission is to provide opportunities for young people of all ages to think critically about the world, engage in service learning, and help make public policy. Through school-day, after-school, and now remote programming, SLP serves about 1,000 students in grades K-12 each year. SLP offers in-person youth programs in New York City, Vermont, and Los Angeles while the virtual SLP Labs are open to students throughout the U.S.

During the pandemic I had the time to think about this extraordinary program and what it contributes to public school children, as well as their teachers. The following is an interview I conducted with SLP Founder and Director, Liz Pitofsky.

Liz, thanks so much for speaking with me. To start, how is SLP approaching its work during the COVID-19 pandemic?

When schools closed in late March, we were in the early phases of our spring session.  Our school partners suspended their projects with outside partners, with everyone assuming we’d be able to resume within a few weeks. Once it became clear that schools would not re-open, we had to permanently suspend the spring session. Fortunately, our Youth Board, made up of New York City high school students, was able to begin working remotely right away. They did an amazing job of responding to the crisis at hand, quickly launching the #SLP Service Challenge, a social media campaign to help children and teens advocate from home. Early on, the challenges were a response to the pandemic. At the end of May, after George Floyd was killed, the challenges became a direct response to the nationwide protests. We were eager to take our lead, as we always do, from the young people in our organization and were so inspired by their work during this difficult time. We also worked hard to create a remote version of SLP, and were able to launch SLP Lab in time to offer summer clubs to families. Our Summer Labs served mixed-age groups at the elementary, middle, and high school level. A very exciting aspect of our remote program is that young people can participate not just from multiple schools but from multiple states. We had young people from New York, Oregon, North Carolina, and Florida participate over the summer and are hoping to have even more states represented in our upcoming Fall Labs.  

What are you hearing from the DOE about outside providers such as SLP and school starting in September? 

We haven’t heard a uniform policy about outside providers from the DOE but our individual partner schools are choosing to work with SLP remotely, at least during the fall months. 

What challenges does this crisis pose for educational non-profits such as SLP? 

I would say there are two main challenges: First, how to continue providing high quality programming when we cannot meet in person. SLP is a student-driven and very hands-on project that benefits from the immediacy and excitement of in-person discussions. We were thrilled by the success of our virtual summer program because it meant that, during the pandemic, we could continue to serve our young people at a high level. 

The second, which will come as no surprise, is how to sustain our organization financially. At SLP, we are dedicated to full participation in our youth programs and, to that end, we cover the expense for about half of our school partners. All of our funded schools, located in historically under-served neighborhoods, serve predominantly low-income families of color and these school partners would not be able to participate in SLP if we could not cover the expense. We lost multiple sources of funding as a result of the quarantine and have worked hard over the past few months to supplement these funds. There is so much need right now -- much of which is more urgent than SLP -- but our community has continued to be so generous: buying tickets for a postponed annual benefit and helping us exceed our fundraising goal for our first-ever virtual raffle. 

Tell me about SLP and how it got started. 

As you know, I am VERY passionate about kids and service! SLP is inspired by work I did in the early 2000s for an amazing non-profit, The After-School Corporation (TASC). TASC’s founding mission was to ensure that all New York City  public school students had access to free, high quality after-school programs. I had a few different roles at TASC but my last project there included an after-school leadership club for middle and high school students living and attending schools in historically under-served New York City  neighborhoods. Similar to SLP, the students would identify a community problem and try to help solve it. I was so inspired by the tremendously positive impact of the experience on students and felt like I had found my calling: to help ensure that all young people have the opportunity to become leaders and agents of positive change in their neighborhoods and schools. I started by bringing action civics into the school day, my first group was a third grade inclusion class in a Brooklyn public school. They decided to help prevent deforestation and produced an incredibly powerful PSA about how we can all make changes to our daily routines to help protect the environment. And SLP has grown from there: we now serve close to 1,000 students per year, in grades K-12, and in New York City, Vermont, California and nationwide through our new remote program. 

With the pandemic, the economy, racial injustice, an ineffective and indifferent administration, and a crucial presidential election, what can all students take away from the lessons of SLP? 

I think our Summer Lab experience is a perfect illustration of how SLP can benefit young people. All of the summer groups chose issues that were a direct response to the Black Lives Matter protests: school segregation, the dangerous overuse of 911, and the bias inherent in the existing school curriculum. The students who participated this summer began the process with incredibly honest and productive discussions about race in the United States. These conversations were challenging, and the issues could feel overwhelming, but as they continued to work through them together, they began to feel more optimistic about the potential for solving these problems and more determined to play an active role in addressing these issues in their own schools and neighborhoods.

Young people of all ages are more aware of social problems than we may always realize.  For example, we have had many groups of younger students choose gun violence as the issue they are most concerned about. Sometimes their concern is gun violence in their neighborhoods, sometimes it’s the  possibility of a school shooting. It’s a very scary topic and the process of working with their peers to address it helps reduce the anxiety they feel and counteracts a natural feeling of helplessness that we all can feel about issues like gun violence, climate change, homelessness, and more.  

We have found that regardless of the issue of focus, young people leave the experience feeling more optimistic about their ability to solve these problems, more excited and determined to use their voices to call for change. And it’s really a privilege for us to help amplify their very strong and important voices.

Postcards to Voters

One cure for Democratic despair: Postcards to Voters.

I discovered this program at a Biden campaign community event and now I’m a convert, writing ten postcards a day.

I love this program for about a dozen reasons, but the main one is that I feel like a can do something every day to contribute to the campaign.

https://postcardstovoters.org

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/11/01/us/politics/postcards-democrats-midterm-elections.html?fbclid=IwAR1_h2GX_WemAcD2y8cCwVkE1Bp0TUGMPyvjKiZv41h9m6Bfui_TBzgKzBs

Celebrating Public Service

“I felt like it was an important moment for us as a nation, to have a show like that, that really celebrates public service.” -- Melissa Fitzgerald

It’s inspiring to read the story of an actress, who wasn’t all that ambitious about her career, who went from a script about public service, Aaron Sorkin’s wildly popular The West Wing, to serving veterans in need.

Read about the mission of the amazing Melissa Fitzgerald here: 

https://abcnews.go.com/Entertainment/actress-west-wing-washington/story?id=38365563

https://www.nadcp.org/advancingjustice/meet-melissa-fitzgerald/

What’s the Plan for General Welfare?

“So, let me see if I have this: A hurricane has picked up speed and power and is headed for Georgia. Management and labor are coming here to work out a settlement to avoid a crippling strike that will begin at midnight tonight; and the government is planning a siege on 18 to 40 of its citizens, all the while we hold a state dinner for the president of Indonesia.” -- C.J. Cregg, The West Wing, Season One.

Fast forward to summer 2020. A pandemic has spread across the country – to say nothing of the globe – and has killed more than 150,000 Americans. The Republicans and the Democrats are not working out an extension for a desperately needed federal supplement so Americans can pay their food and housing bills before Congress adjourns for their summer break; and the government is in continual conflict with peaceful protesters working towards social justice, all the while it has no idea how to send children back to school for the fall. The truth, no television.

In the midst of chaos, the only hope is a plan. And a good one, at that. But a plan --any plan -- will do. And what we have right now, my friends, is no plan. And a lot of fighting. It’s simply madness.

One of the most important ideas I learned from teaching young children is that they always need to know what the plan is. Every morning included a brief meeting laying out the schedule for the day: “First, we’ll go to the playground, then we’ll come in for snack, etc.” This gives children a sense of certainty and something to look forward to, to say nothing of a feeling of control.

It should come as no surprise that young children are not the only ones who need to know the plan. Everyone needs to know the plan. It give us certainty, something to look forward to and a feeling of control.

Right now, we are in a continual state of not knowing what the plan is, with only an assurance of continuing uncertainty, nothing to look forward to, and a consistent sense of having no control whatsoever.

The “general welfare” mentioned in the U.S. Constitution, is in peril. How can we finally get the message across that now is the time for rapid diplomacy, not ongoing infighting?

Civics 101

In the depths of democratic despair, I seem to have created the start of my own curriculum: Civics 101.

While reading the Constitution, I was trolling around the Internet and found the following: They Don’t Represent Us: Reclaiming Our Democracy, by Harvard law professor, Lawrence Lessig. His arguments are myriad, but at the core, Lessig argues that what we need to save our democracy right now are widespread reforms – from a reformed Electoral College to ending partisan gerrymandering -- that will empower us as citizens to become “more politically informed and engaged.”

While no August beach read, Lessig’s book and the combination of reading the Constitution and volunteering for the Biden campaign has made me feel, at very least, that I am no longer complacent nor a passive bystander, watching helplessly as the ship simply goes down.

Back to the Beginning...

A couple of years ago, I purchased a copy of the Penguin Books Declaration of Independence and the United States Constitution. It was July 4th, and I had never read them together.

In my typical fashion, when the language to the introduction became a little dense, I put it down. I always meant to pick it back up. I just never did.

This week I gave it another shot. A combination of complete despair, binge-watching The West Wing, and a sense that, as a nation, we simply need to start over, made me curious about all the documents I should have read as a student but never did in full.

What’s fascinating about reading the Series Introduction at this particular moment in history are certain key phrases, such as “…the age-old debate on how and where to strike the best balance between public order and personal liberty.” Hmm…to wear or not wear a mask – that is the question. Or “…the relationship of the new federal government to the individual states…” Let’s see, certain governors do a better job of managing a global pandemic than the federal government does. We really seem to  be back at the beginning again.

Perhaps the energy I really needed was in the following sentence at the end: “Our opinions of the ‘correct’ way to proceed may not always prevail, but we will at least be participants, not passive bystanders, in the ongoing drama that is the history of the United States.”

The Week in Television

Okay, the show is twenty years old, but at this point I’ll take my comfort wherever I can get it.

Sometimes an actor plays a part so well they sear their way into your consciousness. Such an actor is the late, great John Spencer who portrayed White House Chief of Staff, Leo McGarry, on The West Wing.

All of the actors on the show -- who Spencer has said “make me better than I am” --are extraordinary, and I love every one of them. But there is something about Spencer – maybe it’s his Czech-Ukranian-Russian ancestry -- whose Leo serves his country with heart, soul and authority and is, at the same time, willing to admit when he’s made a mistake. 

Spencer, born in New York City and raised in New Jersey, was no stranger to the issues that Leo deals with. A recovering smoker, alcoholic and drug user, Spencer died of a heart attack – Leo suffers a heart attack on the show – several months before his 59th birthday, in 2005.

Gone too early but never to be forgotten.

Starting Over

High summer is here and I’m back in the garden.

Pulling weeds, wrestling with grapevine, and rescuing an azalea. Weeds and invasives are amazing – they take over everything in their path and leave nothing untouched. They choke, they cover, they spread. And the only way to deal with them is to get them at their roots and not to just trim them back. This simply leaves them an invitation to return. And yet, even getting them at the roots sometimes does not work. It takes a lot of planning. And sometimes you just have to start over.

Feels a lot like everything else going on right now…

Referencing Spirituals

You feel a little like a detective who’s unearthed a clue. 

You’re listening to, say, the Symphony No. 4, in D Minor, of Florence Price, and you hear something you’ve heard before. At first you don’t know where or what. And then it comes to you: it’s the stunning spiritual: Wade in the Water.

Full of big beautiful blues, minors and harmonics, the Symphony No. 4 is simply beautiful.

https://www.npr.org/2019/01/21/686622572/revisiting-the-pioneering-composer-florence-price

The Corona Diaries: Day One-Hundred

Gone Fishing. One of my favorite messages. Even though I’ve never fished.

It says the office is closed. We’re taking a break. And so it is with the Corona Diaries.

As extraordinary as these months have been, with so much sadness and national despair, it is time to quietly contemplate, preferably in a lawn chair, with a book and a tall glass of lemonade.

Thank you so much for reading. Stay safe, stay healthy, stay strong. I’ll be back next week.

The Corona Diaries: Day Ninety-Nine

Some children don’t mind being put on the spot. Others not so much.

When it comes to storytelling, these children will freeze up. “I don’t know,” is a phrase you often hear.

One technique that helps is to always have an ear open, for the times you least expect a story to come out. While they’re washing hands, while they’re eating lunch, often it’s when you’re tucking them into bed.

This is the time to grab the pen and notebook and get a few words down. “That sounds like a fun story,” you can say. “Let me write that down for you.”

The Corona Diaries: Day Ninety-Eight

Here’s another writing prompt: “Once upon a time…”

Sometimes it’s as simple as that. Since children are usually familiar with at least some stories that begin with this age-old opener, it’s wonderful to see their eyes open when they are given their own chance to experiment with these words.

With the more outgoing, self-confident children, “Once upon a time” can easily turn into a fantasy “about a princess on Bergen Street” that is told so rapidly that you can’t get the words down fast enough. This is a tough one, because you don’t want to interrupt the flow, yet you want to get down the child’s words.

For the shy, and less outgoing students, “Once upon a time” can be more of a challenge.

More on that tomorrow…

The Corona Diaries: Day Ninety-Seven

“Went to the park, got Carvel” could have been yesterday’s entry in a summer journal. I went to the park, and the Carvel truck (who knew?) was parked outside.

Another entry could have been “On the way home, met a little boy who loved dogs.” He was with his dad, and his grandad, and he gave Milo a huge hug. As we walked away I heard him calling, “Bye, yi-yo!”

This is a perfect example of the kind of small moment that can turn into a storytelling exercise for children. It has setting, dialogue and characters. It even has comedy.

“Let’s write about it when we get home!” could be the prompt.

The Corona Diaries: Day Ninety-Six

One of the things I gave my children on the first day of summer vacation was a journal.

Usually, this was just a black-and-white composition book that they could decorate the cover of with stickers or collage. When we took day trips together to a museum or a park we would take our “summer books” with us. I had one, too.

I still find these around the house, from time to time, and they make me smile. “Went to the park, then got Carvel,” one might say.

A sweet, summer memory from childhood. This is what all children deserve.