October 25, 2016--They're Dying of A Broken Heart

Thinking hard about the results of Angus Deaton's and Anne Case's study of death rates among white people, Bill Clinton, noting the dramatic rise in the suicide rate and increases in alcohol and drug abuse among young, undereducated low-income men, especially men, the former president said--

"It's not simply that people are losing jobs. Jobs were part of their cultural world. It's bigger than just this coal job doesn't exist anymore. It's that part of a way of life is disappearing."

He continued--

"You know what they're really dying of? They're dying of a broken heart."

He not only understands that pain. He feels that pain.

Some have made fun of Clinton's feeling people's pain--thinking it insincere and self-serving--but his enduring popularity, particularly among these displaced white people, suggests that they believe him. And as a result, he has wide support across the political spectrum. Perhaps more than any other politician.

If we want to build working connections between otherwise polarized constituencies, for the upcoming Clinton administration, a focus on men, proverbial "angry white men," as well as men of color, is both a good and smart idea.

To glimpse the scope of that need, from the Sunday New York Times, here is something by Susan Chira, senior correspondent and editor on gender issues--

• More than a fifth of American men--20 million people--between 20 and 65 had no paid work last year.
• Seven million men between 25 and 55 are no longer looking for work. Twice as many black as white.
• There are 20 million men with felony records who are essentially unemployable in anything other than menial jobs.
• Half the non-working men report they have serious health problems.
• Only 42 percent of college graduates are men.
• It is estimated that by midcentury, about a third of men between 25 and 54 who do not have college educations will be out of work.
• And, their suicide rate is soaring.

During the current campaign, we continue to hear from Hillary Clinton about the ongoing needs of women, children, and families.

These are real issues and deserve continued attention.

What we hear about men as a cohort tends to be negative. Through winks and nods, Donald Trump's approach is to pander to displaced-feeling men who, when they hear "make America great again," in dog-whsitle terms this means to them a time when white men were dominant and the wife stayed home to take care of the household and children.

Hillary's approach to male issues has been one-off--by making college more affordable, by growing the economy, everyone, including men, will benefit.

It may be that this will prove to be insufficient.

Just as when we perceived gaps between men's and women's aspirations and achievement, we instituted affirmative approaches to narrow those differences in the schools and work places. And to a large extent it worked. For example, 58 percent of college graduates are women.

We may need something equivalent for left-behind men.

Who better than a female, feminist president to take the initiative to address this new, even dangerous inequality. Not only would it be unexpected, it would wonderfully disrupt expectations. The concern among many is that her administration will be all about women and children just as there was fear that Obama's would be about black people.

If Hillary Clinton aspires to be a transformative president and genuinely wants to heal one of the most significant breeches in our social fabric, paying attention to those men dying of broken hearts would be an ideal place to begin.

March 25, 2016--Ladies of Forest Trace: Posthumous Lunch With the Ladies

"We're only here for a few more days and though I know it will be difficult," Rona said, "maybe it would be good, even therapeutic to visit Forest Trace one last time and . . ."

"But with my mother . . . why would . . .  ?"

"Closure, I suppose. We've been in Florida now for almost three months--for the first time with your mother not here . . ."

"Dead. Not 'not here,' but dead because that is what she is. Avoiding saying it that way has not been helpful to me. It's gotten in the way of my mourning because I expect to get a phone call from her and even be able to pop over to see her. Her being 'not here' means she's only away. For the time being. Not gone. Not final. Not dead."

"I get your point, but I think the anti-euphemism business is not helpful. I know what she is but it doesn't feel necessary to say it over and over again. For me . . ."

"For you, fine. For me, I think I need to think in these terms. But I'll try not to obsess about it. I do need to do some more grieving. I've been stuffing my feelings of loss. When we head for New York this time no one will care when we leave or what route we take or be waiting for a call when we arrive safely."

"We're more on our own, that's true," Rona said, reaching out to hug me. When she did I burst into tears. "But we're fine, as fine as we can expect to be right now. And we will be better. These last three months in Florida have been helpful to thinking about what was and what will be."

"It would help if we didn't know so many people in such dire circumstances and . . ."

"That's always been true. We're fortunate to know so many people and that means we'll always have someone struggling with mortality."

"Put me on that list," I said, still tearful, "I'm struggling big time."

"Is there something you're not telling me? I mean do you have symptoms I should know about?"

"None other than a heavy heart."

"I have an idea," Rona said, sounding upbeat.

"I'm open for anything that would help lift me out of this."

"Why don't we call a few of your mother's friends. Some of the Ladies, and see if we can take them out to lunch."

"I like that idea. Maybe to that wonderful dim sum place, Toa Toa, where Mom, six months before she died had her last meal in a restaurant."

"She loved that lunch. We ordered all her favorites from wanton soup to soy sauce noodles."

"She ate everything. So slowly that they had to reheat the food four times and it took her two hours to finish."

"I'll remember that lunch forever."

"Six months later she was gone."

"No longer here," Rona smiled, holding on to me.

So a few days later we were able to arrange for three of the "girls," as my mother referred to them, to meet us at Toa Toa where we ordered up a storm, including a sampling of my mother's favorites.

We wanted to talk about her, and though they were happy to do that, it was clear they wanted to do so for only a limited time.

Bertha said to us, "We remember her with love. She was a remarkable person, but one special thing about her was her not wanting to dwell on unpleasant things. 'There are enough of them at our ages,' she used to so. 'In our lives, in the world. So let's try to look for positive things to talk about. To think about the future, not just the past. Things we can feel optimistic about.' That was her in a nutshell."

"This is not always easy for us," Fannie said, "We all come from Europe from a  time when things there were not good for people like us and then here with the Depression, World War II, and of course what Hitler did."

They all nodded. But perked up almost immediately when the first in a stream of steamed dumplings arrived.

"She wouldn't be happy about the election," Gussie said.

"I thought we were supposed to talk about more optimistic things," Fannie said, at 97 managing her chopsticks quite well.

"We'll get to that," Gussie said, asking for a knife and fork, "We'll get to that. But, like I said, she would not be happy about that Trump."

"Who is," Bertha said. "such a bully. Such a bigot. Who says such terrible things about women. He claims he has Jewish friends and loves Israel, but I have my doubts."

"Though some of the men where we live, the few men who are still with us, some of them like him and voted for him in the primary."

"Did they tell you their reasons?" Rona asked.

"He can get things done, they say."

"Just that?"

"Just that. And most of the men think he knows what to do with the Muslims and Mexicans. I mean, the terrorists and immigrants. They talk as if they're one and the same."

"Did they say what they think Trump will do?"

"No. Just that he's strong and will keep them safe and build that wall."

"To tell you the truth," Fannie said, "These men are lucky to wake up in the morning or even know who they are. They're that oyver-botled. You expect them to know any specifics about Trump or any of the other ones? They get lost going to the bathroom." The ladies smiled and nodded in agreement.

"I love these chive dumplings," Bertha said, "These were your mother's favorites. In the past, when she was better, when she had lunch here, when she got back to Forest Trace she would go down the list of what everyone ordered and gave an analysis of each of the dishes."

Remembering that, when she was fully herself, really until not so long ago, when she was already 105, I began to tear up.

"I'm sure I know what she would be thinking about Trump," I managed to say, "Among everything  else she would have been repelled by his crassness, his crudeness. She never uttered a four-letter word even when that would have been forgivable. She was very proper and held everyone including herself to very high behavior standards. She could be quite judgmental about those kind of things."

"Do you remember the 2008 election?" Fannie asked.

"I think I know what you are going to say," I said.

"How your mother worked so hard to help Obama win the nomination?" I nodded. "How she worked on the three of us and dozens and dozens of others at Forest Trace. Almost all women, many who were born before women could vote, how she worked on us one by one to convince us that Obama would make a better president than Hillary."

"And how at first we all resisted," Gussie added. "It took her awhile but slowly but surely she persuaded almost all of us to vote for Obama. Which we did. She helped 125 of the girls fill out absentee ballots and then in huge shopping bags took them to the board of elections."

"I do remember that," Rona said. "I was so proud of her. She was a feminist in her own way. Very much so. But she put that aside because she saw more potential in Obama."

"And she was thrilled,"I said, "when he not only won the nomination but was elected. Not that she overlooked his flaws as president. She could be very critical. Tough-minded but fair. She never let anyone off easy. I can tell you from personal experience that she had very high standards and it wasn't easy to meet them."

"We held ourselves responsible for Bush," Fannie said.

"How so?" Rona asked.

"Those chads. Remember how in 2000 George Bush won Florida because of those hanging chads in Broward and Palm Beach Counties? That's where we live and I am sure with our shaky hands we by mistake pushed the wrong chads and wound up voting for that Nazi, Pat Buchanan."

"He's just an anti-Semite, which is bad enough," Gussie said.

"Well, your mother wanted to make sure that never happened again. So she had us fill out those absentee ballots. With her checking everything, I'm sure none of us voted for John McCain and that awful Sarah."

"And Obama did win Florida, by a comfortable margin, and of course the election. Your mother was very proud of that."

"So, here's the big political question," I said. They put down their forks and chopsticks to make sure they heard me. "How would she be feeling this time about Hillary?"

For a moment no one said anything. "That would be complicated," Fannie said.

"I'm sure she'd vote for Hillary," Gussie was quick to add.

"But with mixed feelings," Fannie said. "Though there's no one else she would even consider voting for." The other girls looked quizzically at Fannie, who added, "She might have been well over 100, but she had all her marbles and she'd be like all those young women not yet voting for Hillary. The ones interested in Bernie. I think she would have felt that Hillary takes for granted the votes of women just because they and she are women. Solidarity. A word we used to use in the labor movement. You know I was a member of the ILGWU. The ladies' union. Garment workers."

"Say a little more," Rona said, "We can ask them to reheat the food."

"This is more important than shrimp dumplings. For your Mom that would not have been enough. Just being a woman. To her as you said that was important but not enough to vote for a president. As with Obama eight years ago, she was only interested in who she felt would make the best president. If that person happened to be a woman, so much the better."

"Or a black man,"Bertha added with a wide smile. "And I agree, only if it's so much the better."

"She would have understood all these young women," Fannie continued, "How they don't want to feel pressure or obligated  to thank their mothers' generation for what is now possible for young women. Though that's to a large extent true--all the opportunities--these girls, and they are girls to me, are entitled to stand on their own two feet and accomplish all they are capable of accomplishing. And not feel they have to be beholden to anyone."

"But I am also absolutely sure," Bertha said, "that she would have said that it's important not to forget the past and all the sacrifices women made to blaze a path for their daughters and granddaughters. That's only fair. And in the primary we just had and in November, if she had only still been with us, she would've voted for Hillary. And proudly."

Bertha nodding said, "Can you imagine what your mother might have accomplished if she had all the rights and opportunities these young women have?"

"She would have been a school superintendent," Gussie said. "Running all the schools. Not just a first grade teacher. And a good one."

"She wouldn't have had it any other way," Rona said, "Only if she earned it. No special treatment or sense of entitlement."

"I'll drink to that," all three of my Mom's friends said, clicking tea cups.

"Do you think they could bring us some more hot tea?" Bertha asked. "We Polish girls like our tea very hot."

February 9, 2016--The "Establishment"

During last Thursday's debate, Bernie Sanders accused Hillary Clinton of being part of the Establishment.

He said--

"Secretary Clinton does represent the Establishment. I represent, I hope, ordinary Americans, and by the way--who are not all that enamored with the Establishment."

In response, Hillary Clinton said--

"Well look, I've got to jump in here because, honestly, Senator Sanders is the only person who I think would characterize me, a woman running to be the first woman president, as exemplifying the Establishment. And I've got to tell you that it is really quite amusing to me."

It may be amusing to her, but if Hillary Clinton isn't a part of the Establishment, I don't know who is.

Let me count the ways--

Wife of the former governor of Arkansas, former First Lady of the United States, former U.S. senator from New York, presidential candidate finalist in 2008, Secretary of State and then as a former Secretary able to command $250,000-a-pop speaker fees from the likes of Goldman Sachs, someone who with her husband has accumulated assets of more than $200 million after being "broke" when they left the White House, someone who received advances for books in excess of $5.0 million each, a principal in the Clinton Global Initiative, mother of a daughter-of-little-accomplishment who is able to garner highly-paid no-show jobs at McKinsey and Company and NBC ($600,000 a year!), and mother of a daughter who on her own commands speaker fees of $65,000.

(As and aside, someone needs to explain Chelsea's career to me, including that $65K.)

Hillary Clinton is not a member of the Establishment?

Not a member, she claimed the other night, ignoring all of this, because by definition she is not part of the Establishment because she is a woman. A woman running, audaciously I assume she would say, to become the first "woman president."

It appears this is working less and less well.

A female college student interviewed by MSNBC right after the debate visibly cringed when asked if Clinton's claim resonated with her.

She said, "That's irrelevant to me. What I care about is if she or anyone else would make a good president. In that regard, her being a woman doesn't mean much to me." She paused, took a visible deep breath and added, "Her feminism doesn't represent my feminism."

Nor apparently did it mean much to young voters in Iowa where Sanders led Clinton by 85 to 15 percent among people between the ages of 17 and 24. Fully half of them young women. We'll see what happens later today in NH.

Hillary Clinton's default position whenever challenged or feeling threatened is to blame, as she did in the past, the "right-wing conspiracy" or, more commonly now, that this is because she is a woman.

Not to be outdone, husband, white knight Bill has been all over New Hampshire this week coming to his wife's rescue, including to claim that Sanders' alleged attacks on Hillary are sexist. Talk about chutzpa. Bill Clinton in the Oval Office wrote the book on that.

In addition, Bernie Sanders himself is a comfortable member of the Establishment.

He is almost as much a career politician as Marco Rubio. By the numbers more so. His political career stretches back 35 years when in 1981, at age 39, he was elected mayor of Burlington. After being reelected three times, in 1990, he ran successfully for the House of Representatives, and then, in 2006, was elected to the U.S. Senate.

Sanders has been comfortably ensconced in Congress for 26 years. Including, during the past year, when he has been as much a no-show at his day job as Rubio and Ted Cruz.

That to me feels very Establishment.

Though I am more and more liking what he has to say about the "rigged" economy and am inclining to vote for him, let's not forget who he really is and how he has, at taxpayer expense, made his way in the world.

February 8, 2016--The Gender Trap: Albright's Inferno or Where the Boys Are

At a campaign event on Saturday in Concord, NH, when introducing Hillary Clinton, former Secretary of State Madeleine Albright, scolded young women for supporting Bernie Sanders.

With the grinning Clinton at her side and New Jersey Senator, Wall-Street favorite, Cory Booker on stage left applauding enthusiastically (see below), the 78-year-old former secretary mocked Bernie Sander's political revolution, saying that electing the first female commander in chief would be "a true revolution."

Feeling it, she added--

"We can tell our story of how we climbed the ladder, and a lot of younger women think it's done. It's not done."

Feeling it even more, she apocalyptically shouted, "There's a special place in hell for women who don't help each other!"

A "special place in hell"?

Later, to double-down, in an interview with NBC News, Albright said that "women could be judgmental toward one another and they occasionally forget how hard someone like Mrs. Clinton had to work to get to where she is."

Note that she referred to Ms Clinton as Mrs. Clinton. A bit of a hint about how hard she felt Hillary Clinton, wife of Bill, had to work to get to where she is.

Not to be outdone, Friday night on Bill Maher's Real Time, 81-year-old Gloria Steinem, perhaps the feminist movement's most prominent remaining icon, while explaining how women tend to become more active in politics as they grow older (this not verifiable by facts or data), claimed that younger women were backing Senator Sanders mainly because they could meet young men--"When you're young, you're thinking, 'Where are the boys?' The boys are with Bernie."

This self-revealing comment suggests that this might be some of what motivated Ms Steinem back in her day, but it also ignores the obvious evidence that half or more of Bernie's youthful supporters are women. The polling numbers show that.

This suggests, in Steinemian terms, that in reality "the girls," more than "the boys," are with Bernie and perhaps, to Ms Steinem, more comfortable projecting herself back to the 60s, it's deja vu again. As a reminder, check 19-year-old James Kunan's 1969 best seller, Strawberry Statement: Notes of a College Revolutionary, in which he confessed that a lot of guys showed up at the "revolution" to meet girls and get laid.

To be honest, that was at least half the reason I showed up at my Alma Mater, Columbia University, during the campus-occupation "revolution" of 1968. I did meet some girls but didn't manage to get any. Though I did manage to get my hands on one of President Grayson Kirk's cigars. Symbolism abounds.

This parade of strident, aging feminist supporters is the reason Hillary Clinton, to her tone-deaf chagrin, has thus far been unable to appeal to young women. Or to young men.

An astonishing 85 percent of them are with Bernie.

Talking at them, shaming them, and assigning them to hell will likely mean that 100 percent of young voters will soon be with Bernie.

It's not that young women (and many young men) are unaware of feminist history and how far the Madeleine Albrights, Gloria Steinems, and Hillary Clintons have come, or how hard that was, or how significant their achievements have been--how they blazed a trail and punched many cracks in the glass ceiling, all those good and remarkable things--but it is 2016 and young people do not want to be reminded constantly how much they are beholden to their grandmothers'' generation. (Yes, grandmothers--time is whipping along).

They want to live their lives, frankly taking advantage of the opportunities and ways of living brought about by their predecessors. They do not want to be told to look at everything through a gender lens. And they decidedly do not want be hectored by being told what to do, what to think, or what to feel. By men or by women.

It's their time.

June 30, 2014--Ladies of Forest Trace: Alive and Kicking

It was the day after my mother's 106th birthday and I called to run an idea by her.

"I have a theory."

"A what?"

"A theory, a perception I want to ask you about. It's something I've been noticing for the past number of years."

"How big a number? I'm trying to get used to big numbers. But before you tell me about your ideas, I have a related question for you."

"Shoot."

"Is this the way you talk to a mother? About shooting?"

"Sorry, please, ask me your question."

"How did this happen to me?"

"What's the this?"

"To get to this number."

"Oh, you mean your age."

"What else? What other numbers do I have to think about?"

"I'd say, primarily because of DNA."

"Dee-en what?"

"Genetics. You had two sisters who lived to about 102. So good genes run in your family."

"Good other things too."

"I agree with that. But your getting to 106 is about that and also that you had and have an active and stimulating life. They say that contributes to longevity."

"Longevity, short-gevity, they're all the same to me as long as I feel good. And now that my birthday's over--which I do not like to celebrate, I still have vanity about my age--I can get back to feeling as good as it's possible to feel at these sky-high numbers."

She paused to take a deep breath, which I was happy to see since her breathing has been shallow in recent months. "So, already, shoot." She chuckled at that.

"Here's my theory--Remember what years ago Rona and I said to you when you turned 85, about how  . . ."

"That I don't remember."

"Wait, wait, I haven't gotten to it yet. It's something we said to you about 20 years ago. How at that point in your life, rather than thinking always about other people and what they want and expect of you--something you did, devoted your life to to that point--that it was your turn. That if you wanted to you should say and do whatever was on your mind--not censor yourself or think so much about what others might expect of you--and that we would follow your lead. We would not put any pressure on you to think or say or do anything other than what you wanted and seemed right to you."

"This I remember. Rona said that when she got to be my age she'd start drinking and smoking again. That was funny."

"I'm not sure what we said influenced you at all, but it seems to me that since you were at least 90 you've been--how should I put this--feeling, acting more yourself. You speak your mind more, you do more things that feel as if they are what you really want to do than what you think others want. You speak your mind more forcefully. You seem willing to disagree more than in the past. You seem more focused on yourself than on others."

"And this is a bad thing?"

"No, no. Quite the contrary, I'm saying that this new, more assertive you is a good thing. You spent so many years . . ."

"Doing," she whispered, as if she didn't want anyone to hear, "Doing what other people expected."

"That's how it looked to me."

"Even voting the way your father told me to do. I remember that when we walked to the school to vote he would tell me to vote for this person but not that one." She chuckled again, this time it was mixed with a sigh. "As if I didn't know Republicans from Democrats. But, when I got behind the curtain, I did what I wanted."

"I'm glad to hear this. That curtain sums up what I'm trying to say--you could only be yourself, true to yourself, in private. Away from others' influence and expectations."

"I'll tell you something else."

"What's that?"

"All the women I knew did this." She paused, and I tried not to say anything, not to fill the silence. To let her thoughts flow freely.

"That's the way we were brought up. Not to speak our minds. Not to take the lead. Not to disagree. To hold ourselves back. I had sisters who joined the garment union and Bertha marched to demand the vote. But they were criticized for this. By their husbands and even by their father. My father, who said we should have a home, a husband, children and not work, not picket."

"That was how your generation of women was supposed to behave, but . . ."

"No buts. Though this is what was expected of us, still we shouldn't have gone along with it. Some didn't but most did." Again she paused, not to draw me in but to relive those memories and disappointments.

"This included me. And when later women began to talk about liberation and became feminists still, though I was working as a teacher and even was the acting principal of my school, at home I was a wife and a mother. I loved being a mother but being that kind of wife I didn't like so much."

"You were a wonderful mother and . . ."

"I followed in the news what women half my age were doing and demanding and, though I agreed with the ones who weren't shrill or man-haters, I was too old to join them and burn my bra." At that she laughed so full-throatedly she began to cough. "And if I did," she had quickly regained her breath, "burning my bra would have caused a bonfire." Again she laughed. As did I.

"Your father." Again I heard her inhale. "He was a good man. In his way. In a traditional way.  He worked hard, was responsible, accepted the family, which at first didn't accept or like him. He was born in America. All the rest of us came from Poland or Russia. I liked this about him. His being an American. I was proud of that. They thought he was arrogant for being born here and because his parents came from Austria. Can you imagine?"

"I can. Back then that was not uncommon."

"It's so different now? Where you come from? Not everyone is happy with immigrants. They forget where they came from."

"True enough."

"And your father was a strong man. A strong person. He made me feel secure. I still had fears from my childhood in Poland. From the pogroms. He protected me from that. Not the pogroms. Thank God we didn't have these in America. But places were restricted. Even in the Catskills. Some hotels had signs that said, 'No Jews-No Dogs.' In my lifetime I saw those signs. But they didn't bother your father. He felt as if he belonged and because of him I belonged too. And was safe."

"I know he also could be a difficult man. Severe and harsh at times. Actually, often."

"He was never successful enough for him to feel like a true man. He saw others, including in the family, doing better and it upset him. It made him angry and he took much of that out on me. As if it was my fault. I tried to protect you from his frustrations. But you know . . ." She paused this time to get control of her emotions.

"But you know, though I saw it as my role to do this--to let him be himself, to accept that and to protect you--though I did this, wanted to do it, saw it to be my responsibility to do this, it came at a price."

"I think I understand."

"But back to your theory," she had regathered herself, "which caused me to remember all this. Though my memory isn't what it used to be. You are saying that you are seeing something different in me."

"Yes. Definitely. To use a word many are using these days, you seem more authentic."

"You mean I haven't been?"

"Not exactly. But for some years now you seem to be more your true self. If that's helpful."

"I think I understand."

Though concerned I might be pushing too hard, still I asked, "Do you agree?"

"With?"

"That for the past ten to fifteen years you have been different?"

"I have to think about that for a moment. As I just said, there's a lot I forget. So it's hard to remember myself from so long ago." I sensed her struggling to recall the past. "Maybe, maybe . . ." She trailed off.

"It's OK, Mom, we can talk about this another time. I don't want to overtax you."

"You can tax me all you want. Everyone does. I just paid my quarterlies."

"I meant . . ."

"Maybe I am different. How long ago did you say this was?"

"Ten, fifteen years ago."

"And when did your father die?"

"I'm not good at remembering dates. Maybe 15, 18 years ago."

"So you see?"

"The relationship between Dad and . . ."

"Me, as you would put it, coming into my own."

"That's interesting. Really interesting. What about . . . ?"

"That's just what I was about to tell you." I'm not sure how she knew what I was going to ask. "All the girls here. It's the same thing with them. Those who came into their own. It was after their husbands . . . . They may have loved them but . . ."

"I see where you're going with this. How after . . ."

"It's a terrible thing to admit," my mother said, again after not saying anything for a moment, "Sad how they had to  . . . before . . . I . . . we could . . . But yes . . . I . . . we . . ."

"So I need to amend my theory," I stepped in to interrupt those painful recollections, "To consider the reasons you became, were able to become an active feminist at an older, geriatric age," I opted for that euphemism, "I mean, not just you but some of the ladies."

"Many."

"Many?"

"Many of the ladies. They also are different and . . ."

"And?"

"And if you live long enough it can happen. Anything."