A Pat on the Head

There's a famous photo of a little African-American boy feeling President Obama's hair to see if it felt like his own. He agreed that it did. I love that photo for several reasons. I hope that little Jacob was thinking that he, too, could become President someday. Or maybe he just thought it was cool that his hair feels the same as the President's. I also love seeing that our President is humble enough to bend down and let a small boy touch his head. It shows that his ego doesn't get in the way, and also that he has a great way of relating to children.

The photo reminded me of a pat on the head that wasn't so "cool." When I was in fifth grade, the first African-American boy joined our class.

Many of us had never seen a black person before or at least hadn't been in close contact with a child. So, his classmates, probably including me, were intrigued by his kinky hair and sometimes walked up behind him to feel it.

Oscar objected angrily. I'm sure he felt singled out and humiliated for being different. Were we racist? I don't know. I was 9, younger than the others, but is that an excuse? Again, I don't know. I think we were just curious and meant no harm, but we caused harm anyhow. We invaded Oscar's personal space without his permission. All this happened in the classroom, so I'm wondering why the teacher didn't intervene.

As an adult, I can see that we did wrong even if it was unintentional. I hope all of us have learned and are more respectful of differences today. In any case, the photo of President Obama letting Jacob feel his hair stands out as a contrast and a positive mirror to our negative behavior all those years ago.

A Letter from Romney's Campaign

Some bozo in Romney's campaign appears to think I am a man named Nicholas. I tried, but they would not be disabused of this notion. That's okay, because those of us who have no intentions of voting for "Pinocchio" Romney should know what kind of lies they are passing around. I find this letter astonishing because the Romney campaign professes to be for the middle class, for education, and hard work. This from a man who loves firing people, isn't concerned about the very poor, and wants college students to fund their educations by borrowing money from their parents. This from a man who wanted to let the foreclosure crisis bottom out on its own and let the auto industry drop dead. So here it is, a letter full of lies:


Nicholas,

This election is about more than electing a president. We are choosing the kind of America we will live in today -- and the kind of America we will leave our children tomorrow.

Mitt Romney has a vision for America. It is an America driven by a growing middle class. An America that lets free enterprise work. An America where education, hard work, and living within our means are valued and rewarded.

And that's exactly what we can expect America to be under President Romney. As a trusted supporter, you deserve to be the first to see our latest TV ad outlining President Romney's agenda on day one.

Day One Video

While there's much to be done, there's simply no time to waste on approving the Keystone Pipeline, introducing tax cuts for job creators, and replacing Obamacare.

Many Americans have given up on this President, but they've never thought about giving up. Not on themselves. Not on each other. We can put these last few years of disappointment and decline behind us.

We can restore America's greatness -- beginning on day one with President Romney. So I ask for your support to help make that a reality.

Donate $10 today to help us turn America around and defeat Barack Obama and the liberal Democrats in November.

Thanks,

Matt Rhoades

My Mom, Rae Kraut 1916-1995

My mother was born in 1916 to Greek Jewish immigrants from the town of Janina. She was born in the U.S. though my eldest uncle was born in Greece and my eldest aunt was born on the ship en route to America (I shudder to imagine that childbirth scene).

Even though she was just a toddler in 1918 Mom remembered the maimed soldiers returning from World War I. For the rest of her life she disliked parades and got teary eyed when she heard a marching band.

When Mom was 13 the Great Depression hit. My grandfather was something of an aristocrat in Greece, but he invested in a florist business here and lost his business and his money when the crash came. Mom remembered not having a nickel for an Eskimo pie. She graduated high school while the country was still in the throes of the Depression, and tried to attend college. But her boss, just like the ones that are exploiting this second depression today, kept her overtime on a constant basis so that she missed her classes and had to drop out. Imagine if she'd been able to finish and become an accountant. She became a bookkeeper instead.

Her heart was always with the workers and she went out on strike in the 1930's. I'm proud to say Mom was a "union maid."

Mom married for the first time to a man named Jack Dash, and became a mother for the first time to my brother Sandy. Sadly, Jack had a rare circulatory disorder and passed away quite young. She remarried to my father, Lou Kraut, and they had me about a year later.

My birth was hard on Mom. I was six weeks premature and they kept me in an incubator for five weeks. When I was first born at 2.5 pounds a callous nurse told Mom, "You can have another baby," if I didn't make it. Mom became distraught and I hope that nurse was replaced!

Mom was loving and tough at the same time. She had strong principles and would not tolerate breaking them. Friends described her as an iron fist in a velvet glove because she would not back down on a matter of principle. She was a staunch Democrat and argued with my father when he voted for Mayor Lindsay on the Republican ticket. Mom voted for Lindsay but she would never vote Republican; instead she voted for him on the Liberal ticket to send him a message about the kind of mayor she wanted him to be.

I gave her a hard time during my adolescence in the late sixties and early seventies. She was critical of many things but agreed on politics and she marched with me at at least one anti-war march. She took my aunts and uncles to task for supporting Nixon.

Mom also had strong feelings about Israel and anti-semitism and she became Vice President of our building's B'nai B'rith chapter, in charge of the liaison to the Anti-Defamation League. She was nervous about speaking in public but when she had to, she spoke out.

Mom's four grandchildren from Sandy and one from me were her constant joy. Sadly, in her late sixties, she developed Parkinson's Disease and possibly Alzheimer's also. Finally we had to move her out of her Bronx apartment and into a nursing home in Brooklyn. She fought hard to get Russian Jews out of Russia and I told her in one of her more lucid moments that she was living among the people she helped to rescue.

The day she died, I went to visit her. I hadn't been there in about two weeks because I had a summer cold and anyone with an infectious disease was forbidden to visit. Finally I was better and I went to see her. She asked after the family and was reassured that everyone was well. Her eyes looked different and she said she couldn't see. Although I was in denial and told the nurses I wanted to arrange a birthday party for her (she would have been 79 nine days later), something told me I would not see her again, and I made sure to say, "I love you," before I left.

Mom valued education and pushed me to go not just to college but also to graduate school. She was fierce in her activism when she saw injustice. I have adopted her values (with some minor modifications) and owe a great deal to the teachings she gave me with her words and example.

I love you, Mom. Happy Mother's Day, wherever you are.

n

Letter to the Daily News About Police Commissioner Kelly

I am appalled at the recent editorial encouraging Police Commissioner Ray Kelly to run for Mayor of NYC. Under his watch, thousands of young men of color have been stopped and frisked without any reason to suspect them of wrongdoing. Kelly is also responsible for the anti-Muslim film that police officers watched. Also under his watch NYPD officers carried out unconstitutional spying on Muslims simply because of their religious affiliation, spying that went into areas of New Jersey where the NYPD has no jurisdiction.

Commissioner Kelly has not reined in his underlings from the vicious and brutal beatings and unwarranted arrests of thousands of peaceful demonstrators. In fact it is all too obvious that the orders to mistreat protesters have to be coming from above. Kelly is therefore responsible for the cruel treatment of Occupiers and other protesters and the violation of their 1st, 4th, 5th and 6th Amendment rights. He is head of the NYPD and the buck stops with him. He is in no way qualified to be Mayor of New York City. Stop any and all promoting of him for this office. The man shouldn't be elected dog catcher.

Kent State Memories

In May 1970 I was 15 years old and a junior at the Bronx High School of Science. I opposed the Vietnam War and went to demonstrations with my friends Janet and Susan on a regular basis.

When we heard about the shootings at Kent State the students exploded. I remember kids jumping out the first floor windows (just a few feet off the ground) at Science to leave school and go to the demonstrations. We all felt the bullets weren't just aimed at the 4 dead and 9 injured, but they were aimed at all of us. Everyone who opposed the war, everyone who wore a peace button, long hair, bell bottom jeans, we were all the target.

A demonstration was called in front of the Army-Navy recruiting station at Fordham Road and the Grand Concourse in the Bronx. Susan and I marched there with the other kids and we set up a picket line, circling the traffic island in front of the recruiting station. After a while we got hungry and left our school books on the traffic island while we went to a nearby park to eat lunch. In those days you could do that without worrying that someone would steal your stuff!

When we got back, we were stopped by members of the Tactical Police Force, the riot squad, or as we knew them, the boys in the baby blue helmets. Today's riot squads wear black helmets and are practically encased in armor. Baby blue helmets were prettier but we still knew these men were not your friendly neighborhood cops.

They refused to let us back into the demonstration. We told them we just wanted to get our books back. "Then you should have gone to school today," one of them sneered. Finally they agreed to let Susan retrieve all our books but kept me as a hostage to ensure that she didn't rejoin the picket line. This was, of course, a violation of our rights, but we were in no position to argue. There were no legal observers, just high school kids marching in a circle and chanting. The TPF could have done anything they wanted. As I stood there waiting for Susan to come back with my books, one TPF turned to another and remarked, "Think we'll get to crack any heads today?"

I was terrified, praying for Susan to come back quickly! When she did get back, we knew it was useless to try to get back into the march, so we went home.

I wouldn't be surprised if those boys in baby blue helmets were the daddies of some of the most abusive cops attacking Occupiers today.

Catching Up to 2012!

It's hard to believe I let this blog go by the wayside for almost exactly two years. I'll have to blame some of it on Facebook and Twitter, which take up altogether too much of my time. There's no way I can catch up two years in one or two blog posts but here are the bare bones.

Bruce found four jobs after his initial layoff from National Envelope. He also worked for the Census in 2010, beginning shortly after I put up my last 2010 post. Now he's been laid off again. This time he's within about 20 months of early retirement, so while we hope he finds work, it's not the complete disaster it was three years ago.


Jason has his Associate's degree from Borough of Manhattan Community College. He's out of school at the moment and looking for work. It's not exactly easy in today's insane economy.

I found a part time job with health benefits in July 2010. I'd been writing grant proposals for Youth Pride Chorus since October 2009 on a very part time basis, and in the summer of 2010 their Development Associate quit to become a student teacher. Now I raise funds for Youth Pride Chorus and the New York City Gay Men's Chorus. Can I say, "I love my job!" Because I do.

Last summer I started up a small home business making pinback buttons. We named it Celestial Buttons (after my name, of course, no angels involved). We sell political and other buttons, with a distinctly left leaning flavor. I'm a leftie, after all. We also would like to do children's parties where kids can create their own design and we'll make it into a customized button. Here's the link: www.celestialbuttons.com.

That's where we are professionally. Our free time activities have changed as well. Two years ago we were both on the board and deeply involved in the Brooklyn Humanist Community. Over time the group evolved away from any interest in action and preferred to remain a social group in nature. In its place we have joined another small group, Politics for a Human Community, which has its own meetup at www.meetup.com/NYC-PHC. and a Facebook page as well. Bruce and I have gotten involved with several other groups as well.

I'm still dedicated to the causes I listed in 2009, with the addition of getting corporate money out of politics. Citizens United was a horrible, wrongheaded decision allowing the wealthiest people and corporations to buy politicians and buy our elections, and we have to overturn it. So we are working on that as well.

It's good to be back.