The Lilith Blog

October 15, 2007 by admin

In Defense of Ann Coulter. Well, Sort of.

I feel bad for Ann Coulter. It’s not that she isn’t, as comedian Kathy Griffin put in the comedy special I saw on TV last night, “a crazy @&#@%,” but the current anti-Coulter campaign, led by the National Jewish Democratic Council, is unfair.

In response to comments Coulter made about Jews in an interview on CNBC’s “The Big Idea,” The NJDC is calling for the media to stop inviting her to do interviews:

Today, the National Jewish Democratic Council (NJDC) called on mainstream media outlets to stop inviting Ann Coulter as a guest commentator/pundit and strongly condemned recent comments that Jews should be “perfected” by accepting the New Testament and that America would be better off if Judaism were “thrown away” and all Americans were Christian.

“While Ann Coulter has freedom of speech, news outlets should exercise their freedom to use better judgment,” said NJDC Executive Director Ira N. Forman. “Just as media outlets don’t invite those who believe that Martians walk the earth to frequently comment on science stories, it’s time they stop inviting Ann Coulter to comment on politics.”

First, Coulter, a lawyer and journalist, commenting on politics is not quite the same thing as a martian-believer commenting on science stories. Bad analogy.

Second, the shocking thing about her comments is not that she holds those views but that she had the audacity to proclaim them on national television. She was not calling for Jews to be wiped off the face of the Earth, merely honestly expressing her Fundamentalist Christian views, the same views held widely by many Christian Fundamentalists — that Christianity is a perfected extension of Judaism, in that Jesus died for their sins and absolved them of having to keep the Jewish laws, and that, ultimately, all Jews (and other heathens) should, and will, become Christians. If you watch the video, you can see that Coulter really was trying to explain herself and convince host Donny Deutsch that she was not trying to be offensive. But she was also not willing to take it back.

Third, the reason the media has kept on bringing the always-offensive, often hate-mongering Coulter back is because of her provocative views and her lack of inhibition in expressing them — she’s good for ratings! Even The Jewish Press, the most conservative, religious Jewish newspaper of them all, has interviewed Coulter — twice! — and the second time they admitted to inviting her back because her first interview was “the most viewed article on our website for 2006.”

It didn’t bother the NJDC back then that Coulter bashed women, Muslims, and liberals. Now that she’s offending Jews, suddenly she needs to be banished from the media. It’s so typical.

The NJDC is not wrong in calling on the media to stop encouraging Coulter, but they could have done so in response to the myriad of other “unacceptable” views she has expressed in the past. The NJDC claims Coulter crossed a line with this most recent interview, but the truth is, she’s crossed that line many times over. The male-run NJDC just didn’t notice until it was their line she crossed.

You can watch the video or read the transcript to see exactly what the hullabaloo is about.

–Rebecca Honig Friedman

The Lilith Blog

October 15, 2007 by Mel Weiss

The Roles of Rage

It seems that the question of communication versus righteous anger just won’t leave us alone. Frank Rich’s op-ed piece in this Sunday’s New York Times made me feel shame and rage in equal parts, and I spent the day indulging myself in various righteous media-related favorites, reliving furies current and present. I agree with Rich: we can’t let the fire go out on the issue of the war and its mighty fallout, and I’m ready to own up to every moment of complicity I’ve given this administration—not just on this issue, but on all of it: global warming, health care, public education, you name it.

But sheer anger won’t solve our problems. I’ve been on a Katha Pollitt kick recently—even after a summer of Molly Ivins, reading Katha Pollitt is kind of like getting your teeth kicked in by the truth. She’s clearly brilliant, and I am in awe of her. But she’s terribly alienating. However relatively topically as compared with the momentous other issues that face us, the symbolic battle over abortion is clearly of vast import on the political playing field. I have thought long and hard about abortion, choice, the relationship between how a government deals with abortion and what kind of roles women can fulfill in that society, what religion really says about abortion—and I feel I have nuanced, if very strongly held, opinions. But I don’t think I could really sit down and have a conversation with someone radically anti-choice: the rage gets in the way. While this may not bother me much personally, how will we ever get anything solved? How can we reach a compromise through all that anger?

(Of course, sometimes conversation is possible, even where unexpected or unlikely; I learned this week about Encounter for the first time, a program that seeks only to kindle a new conversation about Israel and Palestine. I will admit both the program and the frankness of the discussion around it were greatly heartening: I need to be reminded sometimes that these things are indeed possible.)

And then there’s the question of how much anger we women allow ourselves to exhibit publicly. Certainly our Woman in the Field, such as Senator Clinton is, isn’t great at it. Although Clintonian appeasement is often hailed as an important asset (by me as well as by far more knowledgeable politicos), you know and I know that Clinton saves her public rage for whatever Pres. Bush has done, and only releases it in a carefully staged manner. And well enough for her—the cries of “shrill!” come whenever she opens her mouth, anyway. But faced with such backlash, what should we as women do? Do we accept that women will always have to “be careful” what they say in the public eye? Do we respond to outdated and essentialist assumptions that women only ever want to talk things out with loud anger? Do we acknowledge that there may be some truth behind that stereotype? Do we prize our particular positions or our flexibility more? Or do we vary?

I want to find a balance, in my own life and politics, between anger and conversation. Without a combination we’re stuck, and it is, without a doubt, a vital time to keep moving forward. Your suggestions for this possibly life-long task are welcome: how do you find this balance?

–Mel Weiss

The Lilith Blog

October 11, 2007 by admin

Food for Thought

Last Monday I went to an event called “Eating Local in Brooklyn,” hosted by the uber-foodie organization, Slow Food NYC. I didn’t realize, walking in to the event, that I would walk out wanting to read local in Brooklyn instead.

Sitting down to nibble the pickled, Brooklyn-grown eggplants and sip beer brewed in the borough, I struck up a conversation with the woman sitting next to me. It started off with the normal chit-chat:

“I live in the neighborhood,” she said (me, too).
“I’m a freelance writer,” she said (cool, me too).
“I started a women’s food-focused book club in Brooklyn,” she said.

“WOAH, can I join,” I blurted out, totally serious and completely surprised by my own enthusiasm.

I’d joined book clubs before, but left after a few meetings, dissatisfied with the book selection, the group dynamic, or both. Often, the book choices felt random and scattered, leaving me craving some continuity. But this – this! – idea, seemed like a no-brainer. In the last few years, as the food movement has grown, dozens of food-related books – political,
personal, anthropological, etc. – have sprouted up (I can rattle off more than 10 of them, even without the aid of Google). It’s almost overwhelming. How could I ever read them all? Well, for one, I joined the book club.

The club focuses mostly on non-fiction food books (e.g. Fast Food Nation, Food Politics, and Omnivore’s Dilemma), with the occasional – and more rare – work of fiction (they are considering reading Like Water for Chocolate next). The women-only club meets at a different member’s Brooklyn apartment each month, usually theming the accompanying potluck around the book. For example, the last selection – Alone in the Kitchen with an Eggplant – was brought to life by the members bringing their favorite “dish to eat alone,” to share with the group.

Bringing women together around food and books – what could be better? As a new member of the group, I don’t yet feel entitled to invite new members. However, here are a few tips to inspire your own foodie book club, and a few titles to get you started (I focused even further on Jewishly-related food books).

Secrets to a starting a successful bookclub:

– LEADERS No matter how interesting the book is, conversations do not always start or focus themselves. Rotate the task of “leading” the discussion, or at least starting the group off with a question or two to make sure conversation flows.
– FOOD Always have food at the club – you can serve a larger meal or potluck before or after the meeting, but stick to easy-to-eat snacks for the discussion.
– ORGANIZE Never leave a book club meeting without designating the next book and meeting time/place. It’s too tedious to do this organizing work over email.
– BOOK LIST Before your first meeting, ask each member to research and recommend 3-5 titles the group should consider reading. Each time a new member joins, ask them to contribute.
– BLOG Start a book club blog – it’s free and easy, and a great way to keep all important info (dates, books, etc.) in one place.

Jewish-food themed book suggestions:
– Miriam’s Kitchen, Elizabeth Ehrlich
– Anything by Ruth Reichl (e.g. Comfort me with Apples)
– The Year of the Goat, Margaret Hathaway
– Down to Earth Judaism: Food, Sex, Money, and the Rest of Life, Rabbi
Arthur Waskow
– Boogaloo on 2nd Avenue: A Novel of Pastry, Guilt, and Music, Mark Kurlansky

For many more great food book ideas (not necessarily Jewishly themed, but great nonetheless), check out The Jew & The Carrot blog’s “Books we Love” section.

–Leah Koenig

The Lilith Blog

October 10, 2007 by admin

I Am Woman, Hold My Torah

The observance of the Simchat Torah holiday, the time when Jews celebrate the end and beginning of the Torah reading cycle, was particularly celebratory — and historically significant – this year. It marked what is believed to be the first ever women’s Torah reading on the Lower East Side of Manhattan – and it was the first time I have ever layned [chanted] from the Torah. That may not seem momentous for those of you of a Reform or Conservative bent, or even from more progressive Modern Orthodox circles, but for the Lower East side’s uber-traditional Jewish community, which doesn’t even have a Conservative synagogue, it was a big deal. Big enough of a deal that the rabbi of a neighboring shul made a (clearly defensive) joke about us needing another woman for a minyan (the fact that that seems a ridiculous, funny notion to him just shows the extent of his traditionalism, and, for the record, we didn’t.) It was a big enough deal that when my mother reported back to the women at her synagogue, one more typical for the neighborhood than mine, about having gone to the reading at the Stanton Street Shul — the thing that excited them most, the thing they wanted to talk about more than the actual reading was what it was like to actually hold the Torah.

In my mother’s synagogue, as is the case in most Orthodox synagogues I’ve been to, when the Torah is taken out of the ark, a man walks it around the men’s section while the women all clamor over to the mechitza trying to stick their prayerbooks over the partition to touch and kiss the Torah. At the Stanton Street Shul, thanks to Rabbi Yossi Pollak, the Torah is actually passed to a woman and carried through the women’s section, so I and the other women in the congregation get to hold the Torah on a regular basis.

But I was reminded in particular what a big deal the carrying of the Torah can be the night before our historic reading. On the night of Simchat Torah, during the hakafot, the seven revolutions made dancing and singing with the Torah, many synagogues, including Stanton Street, take the last Hakafa outside. It’s a very public statement, which inevitably draws gawkers from the neighborhood, wondering what this strange spectacle of Jews dancing and singing with strange scrolls is all about. I even noticed a guy snapping a photo on his camera phone. His lens was trained on the circle of men — some of whom were hasidim who had walked over the Williamsburg bridge to help make merry — but we women had our own dancing circle and we drew interest, too.

One of the bystanders, a woman I would estimate to be in her mid-40s, looking a little rough around the edges – which is not untypical for the non-Jewish, non-gentrified segment of the neighborhood’s population — approached our little group and said, in a thick New York accent, “I’ve never seen a woman holding a Torah before.” Her name, she said, was Sarah (pronounced the Yiddish way), and she proceeded to tell us that she had grown up Orthodox, had gone to right-wing Orthodox girls’ yeshivot, and had been disowned by her father for marrying a non-Jew. Many years had obviously passed since then, and she didn’t look like they had been easy on her. I couldn’t help thinking, perhaps self-righteously, that if, as a girl, she had seen women holding the Torah, things might have been different.

–Rebecca Honig Friedman

The Lilith Blog

October 8, 2007 by Mel Weiss

Nation, Religion, Humanity

The question of nation and religion loomed pretty large for me this week. I took John McCain’s comment that America is a Christian nation as further proof that he’s completely lost his mind (never mind any shot at the nomination). Jon Meachem writing a Sunday op-ed in the Times clearly differs in his opinion; he cites a 1790 treaty signed of the Barbary Coast as proof. I have a friend who is an expert on America’s interactions with the Barbary Coast (go know), and when I called him to quote-check, he recited part of the treaty to me, and it’s true—there’s a specific clause saying that, unlike Europe, America is not a Christian nation and so should have no unbridgeable religious differences with other nations.

And then there was the Bill Moyers’ Journal piece on PBS about CUFI and Christian Zionists—my favorite national perversion. At one point, Mr. Moyers tried to get his guests to be reassuring by asking if the percentage of Americans who believe in dispensationalism (the belief that the Rapture and End Times prophesies, including a divine war, will only occur when the Jewish nation is reconstituted in the Land of Israel) is small or large. Quite small, his guest assured him. Only about 20 million Americans. I’ll admit to cracking up when that came on—what else can you do? It’s only, like, two-and-a-half the current population of Israel. It’s not even twice the Jewish population world-wide. So why get worried? This is theater, people!

Except of course it’s not. And the problem, frankly, isn’t just in America. Turkey’s women are protesting new clauses in the Turkish Constitution that describe women as in need of protection. (We all know what that means.) Iran recently celebrated Quds Day (al-Quds is the Arabic name for Jerusalem) as “the day for the weak and oppressed to confront the arrogant powers,” except, of course, if you happen to be a woman who’d prefer not to cover her hair. And our own Rebecca has kept us updated on Israel’s struggles to pull itself firmly into the present with something resembling gender equality under the law.

It’s got to be clear by now that I’m a pretty big fan of the doctrine of separation of church and state (or synagogue and state, mosque and state, whatever). If there’s anything that might ever change my mind, though, I saw it this weekend at one of the Day of Action for Burma rallies. In a crowd at Union Square, people tied red bandanas around their arms, lit candles, and knelt in prayer as Buddhist monks chanted. And they also shouted along with the man with the megaphone. And what were they shouting, these people who want only not to brutally oppressed, who want to support their country’s monks and religious structure, who want a little food on their children’s plates? “United States, please help Burma. United Nations, please help Burma!” Whether or not it crosses my own separation fence between religion and politics—how can you not be impressed with that?

–Mel Weiss

The Lilith Blog

October 3, 2007 by admin

Food and Remembrance

Food and grief go together in the Jewish tradition. Shiva, the seven day period that begins after a funeral, begins with seudat havra’ah, “the meal of consolation,” and gifts other than food are discouraged. We eat to feel comforted in a time of loss. We eat to have something to do. We eat to share a moment of normalcy with friends and family in a time of grief.

On the other hand, it almost goes without saying, food and joy (simcha) also go together. A Brooklyn friend of mine, Nina Callaway, is combining the two.

On her blog, she wrote:

“The 10-year anniversary of my mother’s death from cancer is coming up, and to honor her, I’ve conceived of a unique fundraising project – Pieathon! – which will raise money to support low-income cancer patients.I, Nina Callaway will bake pies for a heck of a long time – over 24 hours of solid baking. Delicious pumpkin, pecan, and sugar cream pies for your Thanksgiving table, with Nina’s patented amazing homemade crust. People who believe in supporting cancer patients will sponsor me by the hour of baking.”

I think Nina’s Pie-a-thon is nothing short of amazing. Her day will undoubtedly be emotional and exhausting, but I can’t think of a better way to honor her mother’s life, a mom whom she describes as a great cook with an intense sweet tooth. As Nina rolls out the dough, fills the shells with sweet fillings, and pulls warm, fragrant pies out of the oven, she will raise not only money, but memory as well.

To sponsor Nina or purchase a pie, go to http://www.pieathon.blogspot.com/.

–Leah Koenig

The Lilith Blog

October 2, 2007 by admin

The Battle of the Sexes in Israel

Two controversial decisions are being made in Israel right now regarding the equality of the sexes.

The news that encompasses more of the country is that an Israeli Defense Forces commission called for the full integration of women into the Israeli army, causing a stir among both military officials who believe the move could detract from the military’s effectiveness and from religious Zionists concerned with the modesty issues that a fully integrated military will present.

Affecting a more specific Israeli niche but causing just as much if not more of a stir, however, is the news that the Israeli courts are considering an even more complex change — whether or not to give women going through a divorce automatic custody of young children, as has been the practice since 1962, or to award joint custody to both parents.

This change would make Israel’s custody practices match those of most Western countries, including the U.S., and would seem to be based on the same principles of egalitarianism and gender equality that inspired the idea of fully integrating the IDF and for which women so often fight — yet women’s rights groups are up in arms about it.

The problem is that what would seem like a no-brainer for most “Westernized” countries, is not so for Israel where, when it comes to marriage and divorce, there is no distinction between religious and secular law. Feminist groups argue that Israel’s divorce courts are so inherently gender-biased — and against women — that imposing so-called gender equality in this one aspect of divorce proceedings — the one aspect in which women are actually favored — will only make divorce proceedings even more difficult for women. The details of a joint custody agreement need to be worked out as part of overall divorce negotiations and the fear is that this change will give recalcitrant husbands even more leverage to slow down divorce proceedings. As Dr. Ruth Halperin-Kaddari, chairwoman of the Rackman Center for the Advancement of the Status of Women, told the Jerusalem Post in January, when this issue was first being examined:

“In the Western world, where divorce is a civil legal regulation, it is gender neutral,” she elaborates. “There is no question of whether the divorce will be granted, it will always be granted, the question is just when? However, in the case of Jewish law, which is the case in the State of Israel, there is an infrastructure of discrimination against women. In terms of divorce, men have control over the woman’s ability to open a new phase in her life. He can move on and start a new family, but for women there is the fear of her future children being considered mamzerim. “All talk of gender neutrality is hollow here, it is a false concept.”

The reform in the law was recommended by a committee headed by the former dean of the Tel Aviv University School of Social Work, Professor Dan Schnit. Surely Prof. Schnit and his committee based their recommendations on sociological findings that joint custody is better for children overall — and women’s rights groups aren’t necessarily arguing with those findings. Rather, they’re saying that the divorce courts in Israel need a major overhaul before this particular change can be beneficially implemented.

Yet there are those who argue that parenting styles are becoming more egalitarian in Israel, and that changing this one aspect of the system can affect the overall ethos of parenting further still, encouraging men to play more of a significant role in the lives of their children, and allowing women more time and energy to work and move on with their own lives rather than focusing solely on their young children.

Without knowing more about the details of Israeli divorce law than I do, it’s hard to say what is right for sure. But the salient point that comes out of this debate, particularly in light of women’s more positive reaction to the recommendation to integrate the IDF, is an important one — that the value of egalitarianism, which we tend to espouse as universally to the good, might not always be so. Call it moral relativism – I prefer to think of it as humility – but context has proven to be, if not everything, a very big something indeed.

–Rebecca Honig Friedman

The Lilith Blog

October 1, 2007 by Mel Weiss

A Small World, After All

I’ve had, for obvious reasons, Sukkot on the brain this week. One of the themes I’ve been dwelling on, if you’ll forgive the pun, is that of the small world. When we “dwell in the Sukkah,” we’re meant to shrink our whole world down and fit it in. And whenever I stop to really notice, I live in a small world—we all do. Not just a flat one (I think of that as a purely economic term), but one that’s steadily shrinking in economic, social and political ways. In the spirit of the holiday, then, a small round-up of goings-on across the not-so-very-wide world. They’re a part of our lives, too.

The Matthew Shepard Bill actually passed in the Senate, leaving only the votes and vetoes of the House and our President between an amended hate crimes law that specifically mentions crimes committed against people based on “gender, sexual orientation, gender identity or disability” and you. There’s been a great deal of commentary about how hate crimes are already against the law, which makes this law irrelevant and yet another infringement on your red-blooded American rights—a murder is a murder, right? Except that of course it isn’t: we have a system that differentiates between manslaughter and murder, because intent counts. Interestingly, this law has seen all of its hard-core support from the gay community—but the “gender” part affects us all.

Domestic Workers United are in the news again, as their success in passing the “nanny bill” in New York is held up as an example for other communities of domestic workers attempting to secure some variation of a domestic workers’ bill of rights. The Bureau of Labor Statistics estimates that domestic workers make an average wage of $17,000 a year. (For more reading on this issue vis-a-vis Jewish women, click here and here.)

Myanmar, sometimes known as Burma, is imploding. The military regime clamped down on gas prices early last week, and it was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. (One visitor told Lilith that when the gas prices spiked, so did bus fares–immediately and by a great deal, stranding many at work with no way to get home.) Thousands of protesters have taken to the streets, including the country’s much-revered and rarely-political monks, who have taken to ignoring the military’s orders not to march and have subsequently been fired upon. The Democratic Voice of Burma has ongoing updates, but certainly it looks like it’s going to get worse before it gets better. We’re talking about a nation lacking pretty much any rights for its citizens, with an economy propped up by oil and China. Certainly, sanctions against the regime, which have recently been enacted here in the U.S., are a good idea, but the people of Burma deserve our solidarity, as well. They’re fighting the good fight against some pretty tough odds.

Treyf up your sukkah. Yeah, I’m not wild about the language, either, but there’s no denying that Jewish Women Watching’s new campaign has a lot to say to us about the spirit of the holiday and how we can improve ourselves with sometimes painful honesty in this new year. You can download their sukkah decorations here, and then “upload” them to a nearby sukkah yourself.

There’s lots to be done in our ever-smaller world, where the problems of the world become our problems, too. Luckily, Sukkot helps us focus on the positives, putting a new spin on the old Oscar Wilde quote: we may be all of us in the very temporary Sukkah, but at least we can all see the stars.

–Mel Weiss

The Lilith Blog

September 26, 2007 by admin

Get a Piece

What do you get when you cross sexy, meat-eschewing superstars with an attention hungry activist organization? PETA’s first ever “naked veggie testimonial PSA.”

The People for the Ethical Treatment of Animal’s new flesh-filled campaign features Alicia Silverstone saying very little (and wearing less). She hops out of a pool, purrs about the benefits of being a vegetarian, and stares seductively into the camera.

In a similar ad for “ABC” (Animal Birth Control) – burlesque star Dita Von Teese clicks down a hallway in a busty corset and high heels while discussing the joys and responsibility of owning pets and the evils of euthanasia.”

PETA is no stranger to sensational “literature.” With their famous “I’d rather go naked than wear fur” campaign of years past and a long lineup of buxom spokesmen and women – including Pam Anderson of Baywatch fame – you’d think PETA’s goal for 2007 is to convince college frat boys to go vegetarian.

As an impressionable college freshman I was swayed by a PETA pamphlet, which (accurately) portrayed horrific scenes of industrial meat production. After flipping through the color pictures of chickens having their beaks seared off and shoved into cages and cows – bound and broken – lying in their own filth before being taken off to slaughter, I swore I would never eat meat, eggs, or milk again. While I’m no longer a vegan (I prefer to support those farmers who produce milk and eggs without torturing their animals rather than entirely eliminate dairy and eggs from my diet), those PETA images are permanently seared (no pun intended) into my brain. It’s powerful stuff.

Unfortunately – and I’m actually shocked that I need to make such an obvious point – objectifying women’s bodies to spread their message of animal welfare smacks of hypocrisy. The connection between mistreating animals and mistreating women is elucidated in books like Carol J. Adam’s book The Sexual Politics of Meat. By using sex to sell their ethics, PETA simply swaps one “piece of meat” for another.

Additionally, while the sexy tactics might garner immediate attention (all press is good press?), they could ultimately alienate their progressive members and open themselves up for easy dismissmal from critics. At this point in their organizational history, I’d expect PETA to move beyond cheap tricks.

See the new PETA ads here: Alicia and Dita.

–Leah Koenig

The Lilith Blog

September 24, 2007 by Mel Weiss

Vow Making in the New Year

The High Holiday season maybe technically over, but the lessons we take away will, I hope, linger a bit. I had the pleasure of spending Kol Nidrei at Rabbi Judith Hauptman’s Ohel Ayalah services, and, as expected, I had a phenomenal time. Rabbi Hauptman brings an upbeat and genuinely friendly feeling to the services;
we were at one point instructed to speak to one another during the t’fillot “so that this’ll sound like a real Jewish event.”

We did a quick review of the liturgy, and Rabbi Hauptman spoke about the rabbinic period (please don’t ask me which) when it was decided to change the language of Kol Nidrei—from the releasing of vows made the previous year to asking that vows to be made in the year to come be forgiven. It had to do with how Jews were perceived in non-Jewish courts, and the change is reflected in what we see versus what we read in the Hebrew version of the Kol Nidrei liturgy. (For anything more detailed than this, it’s probably best to ask for yourself.) And thus, Rabbi Hauptman encouraged us to make vows about the year to come—New Year’s resolutions, if you will. Don’t not make them because you might not keep them, she said. You’re saying aloud now that you know your vows could be fallible! But if you don’t make them, there’s no chance.

On a personal note, it’s a comforting thought. Who doesn’t want to revel in their own human fallibility sometimes? But, of course, I just had to bring it around to politics. And thinking about this idea—that we shouldn’t be afraid to dream big—especially in the things we’d like to improve—just because our plans may not work out made me reconsider the somewhat cynical pragmatism I’ve adopted in evaluating our political leaders.

I have high expectations of government and political leaders, I’ll admit it. I believe, sincerely, that government can and should be an actively instrument of good for the citizens of a country—I don’t believe it to be the lesser of evils. And so when I feel repeatedly let down by those in charge, I sometimes affect a more disparaging view of the process and the participants; I say that I want the candidate who can do the least damage, or the candidate with whose plans I feel the most familiar; or whose ideas I think could get past an oppositional legislature, if need be. Pragmatism certainly has its place in evaluating politics and political leaders, but to adhere to it too stringently is to take the possibility of poetry out of leadership. Although our leaders—potential and otherwise—may make vows they will not be able to keep, if they don’t vow it (whether “it” is lower carbon emissions, universal health care, better schools or a safer world), it’ll certainly never happen. I was happy for the reminder.

–Mel Weiss