​Alison Luterman
PRAISE THE BROKEN PROMISE OF AMERICA
Praise deep mineral veins under rich dirt,
and fossilized remains of dinosaurs turning themselves into gas
for our benefit. Praise the exhausted earth,
miles and miles of subsidized corn 
and cattle lowing from their hell-holes
in automated milking barns. 
Praise farmworkers rising before dawn, 
their sore backs and aching knees. Praise the myths
that drew them here, stories eagerly consumed 
when there is nothing to eat but faith.
Praise the courage of the reverend to look 
the dragon in the eye and preach mercy; 
praise whatever hidden waterways are still pristine.
Praise music that refused to play at the funeral of democracy.
and the killing cold that swept through Washington 
when the fake Pope took power.
Praise drag queens and lipstick lesbians, boys who are girls
and girls who are lions, butch women wearing tool belts,
and all the music theater nerds 
who are even now building new passageways 
mapping the next underground railroad 
and suiting up to be conductors—oh, everybody,
get on board! This train will chug quietly 
across the great plains and over rocky Sierras, 
into the desert where people still leave bottles of water 
and packets of food for the desperate 
who have always been the lifeblood 
of this nation. It will stop in obscure hamlets 
to pick up fugitives with tears tattooed on their cheeks 
and fraying backpacks overspilling with contraband books. 
Praise the weirdos because if anyone can save us
it will be us. And praise all the glittering illusions
we gawked at, ignoring our own neighbors
in favor of a 24-hour peep show on the internet. 
Praise the convict fire fighters on the front lines in L.A.,
battling the insurmountable for ten dollars a day. We gambled 
our future for a hot air balloon with a hole in it. Praise
our reckless hubris, and the infinite distractions
of the hall of mirrors we find ourselves in now, and bless
our overwhelmed brains, scurrying like mice for shelter.
Bless our collective rage, and protect
the officers who stood up on January 6th and now see their attackers
roaming the streets like rabid dogs, ah, bless the animals
we have always been, in our coats and shoes
and clumsy language, bless our willful ignorance,
so enormous, so world-altering, that, like the great wall of China, 
it can be seen from outer space, 
where the gods are shaking their heads even now, 
in pity and in awe.
  --from Poets Respond
Published in Rattle.com 1/27/25
https://www.rattle.com/praise-the-broken-promise-of-america-by-alison-luterman/ 
__________
Alison Luterman: “The poem says it all. This past week has been heart-shredding. I’m not saying poetry can change anything right now, but it comforted me to write this, and I hope it offers comfort to anyone who reads it.” (web)

    “See? The soapy water travels in pipes underground, and then it pours into our stream. The soap foam from your car wash is polluting the water. The things that live in the stream aren’t used to the soap chemicals. It’s killing them.”
                                    from Merhorses and Bubbles
                                              written by Asia Citro
                                      illustrated by Marion Lindsay
                                         The Innovation Press, 2017

    “Away is someone else’s here.” I read that line in a newsletter I received from our recycling center some years back, and I’ve been thinking about it ever since. Even though I try to be thoughtful and intentional about it, I throw a lot of stuff away. Some lands in my composter, some goes to the recycling center, but I know more than I want to ends up in the landfill. 
    I wrote a whole blog post about the landfill after I toured it a few years ago. It was really interesting and informative, but Sunday afternoon, I heard a(nother) talk. It was about what’s happening in our oceans. 
    It was just like the kids in the story I quoted from found out, and more. Lots (and lots) of stuff ends up in the ocean. Whatever slips down a storm drain travels miles to a stream, which flows into a river, which wends its way, eventually, to the ocean.
    According to oceanconservancy.org, 11 million metric tons of plastic waste ends up in the ocean every year. “That’s equivalent to more than a garbage truck’s worth of plastics entering the ocean each minute.” Or 100,000 (not a typo) blue whales.
    That’s just the plastic. Other stuff in the ocean includes leftover shipwrecks, automobiles, and all matter of trash like the boot you caught instead of a fish.
    But seriously, all kinds of chemicals from fertilizers, pesticides, herbicides, and insecticides run, leak, and slip into the water and encourage algae blooms that kill fish and harm humans, too.
    Chemicals from household cleaners and skin-care products including sunscreen, lead to coral-bleaching.
    Pollution from oil spills, especially the thin layer of oil that hugs the surface of the water, prevents oxygen from reaching marine plants, preventing them from photosynthesizing. The oil that sticks to the bodies and wings of seabirds prevents them from being able to fly. 
    Toxic industrial waste can be solid, liquid, or semi-liquid. Some are carcinogenic. They contribute to the growth of the ocean’s dead zones.
    Watercraft as large as ocean liners and as small as a jetski create noise pollution, disrupting communication between seals, dolphins, and whales that depend on echolocation. 
    Light pollution especially affects sea turtles. The newly hatched babies are flummoxed by artificial light that blocks the moonlight they need to find their way to the ocean. 
    Wind carries dust pollution and toxic air from factory emissions and drops it into the subtropical oceans, destroying coral reefs.
    Mining the ocean floor for cobalt and other metals needed for cell phone batteries and solar panels destroys deepsea sponges and coral ecosystems.
    But the ocean is trying hard to clean up all the junk we throw in. Mangroves in estuaries (coastal areas of brackish water that connect rivers and streams to the open ocean), just like trees in a forest or our backyards, suck up carbon dioxide and keep it contained in what scientists call a “carbon sink.” Estuaries, sea grasses, and mangroves take up much less space than Earth’s forests, but collect carbon much faster and store it below ground. 
    According to RepairTheSea.org, mangroves “sequester five times more carbon than rainforests and up to 10 times more carbon than any terrestrial forest.” They also trap pollutants before they get to the ocean. They protect shorelines, homes, bridges, and dams from storm damage and erosion.       
    Coastal ecosystems are vital to the people who live near them, too. They provide food and livelihood in local fishing industries.
    When these ecosystems are damaged, though, huge amounts of carbon are released into the atmosphere, contributing to our climate crisis.
    To date, half of our world’s mangrove coverage has been lost. 
    Organizations are working to repair the coastal areas that are so vital to our welfare and the health of our planet. Here are some of them:
https://www.repairthesea.org 

https://oceanconservancy.org 
     and their International Coastal Cleanup: https://oceanconservancy.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/09/Annual-     Report_FINAL_Digital.pdf 

https://oceansharmony.org/save-our-oceans/?msclkid=c0ad74742a7b13e473e313fadc5c9e75  

https://thirdact.org/our-work/ 
    Locally, look for
https://friendsofthemahoningriver.org/ 

https://www.cuyahogariver.net/ 
    
    I decided to forgo most of the news coming out of Washington, DC, at least for now. What is true and relevant will be recapped in my newsfeeds. (Look especially for Heather Cox Richardson and Joyce White Vance. I also subscribe to the free version of The Contrarian.
    I’m better off, and the world is too, if I stay involved and active in causes that I know lead to positive change. 
    Follow one or two of the links above to get involved, too.

I just started reading Differ We Must by Steve Inskeep (Penguin Press, 2023). He describes Abraham Lincoln through his encounters with several important (and not-so-important) people. More on this one next week. 
                      Be curious! (and stay engaged in the world)

    Above all, [Clarence Darrow] hated capital punishment. . . [a]nd so his most ardent and strenuous fights were against what he saw as a barbarous practice, cruel and utterly useless in deterring crime.
                                        from Murder Among Friends
                                          written by Candace Fleming
                       Anne Schwartz Books/Random House, 2022

    I like to read, but mystery is not my go-to genre. Neither is true-crime. It’s not that I don’t want to grow brain cells trying to figure out “who done it,” it’s more like I want to build brain cells by imagining what could happen, not necessarily what did. 
    Besides, even after all the questions are answered and the last string is tied up, sometimes people (or fictional characters) get away with murder, or embezzlement, or kidnapping, or robbery. 
    And sometimes, the lawyers get it wrong. And sometimes the juries do, too.
    And so, here in America, as in other modern countries, we have a way to correct mistakes. When we talk about that kind of correction or forgiveness, we use several different words. 
So let me take a minute to sort them out as defined in the Austin American Statesman. 

• Pardon: Complete forgiveness for a crime. It removes legal penalties and can restore certain rights.
• Commutation: A reduction in a person’s sentence, such as shortening prison time.
• Amnesty: A broad act that forgives a group of people for offenses, often political in nature. (Remember when President Ford issued a partial amnesty to Vietnam deserters?)
• Reprieve: a temporary delay of punishment, often to allow for appeals or further review. 
• Stay: A temporary stop in a judicial proceeding through the order of a court. Similar to a Reprieve.
• Clemency: mercy, leniency, compassion. Can be awarded after someone petitions a judge, usually at sentencing.

    American presidents have lots of power to grant pardons and commute sentences of people who have been tried in Federal court. (Presidents cannot pardon anyone convicted in the court of a particular state or in civil court.)
    In his last weeks as president, Joe Biden commuted the sentences of lots of people and pardoned lots more. Thirty-seven of the 40 prisoners on death row benefit from life in prison, now. That doesn’t sound like much until we realize that the incoming president is expected to take a hard-line approach to federal executions. And what if some of those inmates really are innocent?
    According to Robin Maher on pbs.org, Biden’s “is the largest mass clemency grant of death-sentenced people by any U.S. president since Lincoln.” The three men whose sentences Biden did not commute were found guilty of terrorism or hate-fueled killings.
    At its beginning, capital punishment in the United States was influenced by English Common Law. The 20th century saw a more compassionate America. Stimulated by ethical issues, questions about wrongful convictions, and especially the outcome of Furman v. Georgia in 1972, executions were temporarily stopped. The Supreme Court who heard the case cited “arbitrary applications.” Could people’s lives really have been affected willy-nilly? 
    The reprieve only lasted four years. In 1976, the death penalty was reinstated, but with several prohibitions in place. Specifically, intellectually disabled people and minors are exempt.
    People in favor of the death penalty claim it is a deterrent to crime. The American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU), among other well-established and well-recognized organizations disagrees. 
    Here’s an article from the National Institute of Justice, a US Government publication, that describes the false perception. 
    The Innocence Project “work[s] to transform the inequities and failings that lead to wrongful convictions, alongside policymakers, supporters, and partner organizations.” They have worked to free more than 250 innocent people from prison. They use DNA and other scientific technology to prove innocence when they can. When that is lacking, they often produce new and convincing evidence of their clients’ innocence. 
    The subhead under the headline on their website states, “[Biden’s] decision [to commute those 37 sentences] acknowledges the fallibility of the capital punishment system.”
    The Innocence Project supports their clients in rebuilding their lives after prison with their social work department. Most clients are from communities of color and face unrelenting discrimination. The people who work for the Innocence Project work hard to ensure compensation and help their newly freed clients find homes, health care, and meaningful work opportunities. 
    The District of Columbia and 23 states have abolished capital punishment in their states.
    Executions have been on hiatus during President Biden’s term in office. 
I’m reading Never Have I Ever by Joshlyn Jackson (William Morrow/HarperCollinsPublishers, 2019). When a beautiful woman and her son move into Amy Whey’s neighborhood, Amy’s world seems about to fall apart. Some secrets might be better off if they stayed hidden, but at what cost? This thrilling page-turning mystery is not what I’d usually pick up, but it’s a breath-taking and surprising read.
                             Be curious! (and exercise compassion)

    [Olivia] made friends with the animals right away and was thrilled when they agreed to go home with her!
                                                from Not My Circus
                                 written by Janet Sumner Johnson
                                     illustrated by Patrick Corrigan
                           Picture Window Books/Capstone, 2024

    I’ve never been to the circus. That’s true. But last week I was in Florida and my husband and I went to the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus Museum and toured the grounds. 
    We wandered through the history of Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey and marveled at the acrobats’ athleticism, were mesmerized by a video demonstration of how a clown applied his makeup, and laughed as a couple of kids squashed themselves into a replica of the clown car used by Lou Jacobs. His car is on display, too. It’s hard to imagine how Lou folded his 6’1” body into the 2’ by 3’ foot car and drove it into the ring.
    In 1966, the 100th anniversary of John Ringling’s birth, Lou Jacobs’s face appeared on the first US postage stamp that depicted a living person.  Here's a picture (that won't load to the blog!)
https://www.vintagepostagestamps.com/product-page/5-circus-clown-25-stamps
    Then, in 1993, a 29-cent clown stamp (that looks a lot like Lou) was issued to celebrate the 200th anniversary of the first circus in the United States.
    And it’s Lou’s face that appeared on circus posters, wagons, and memorabilia. 
    Lou Jacobs was a great clown. He worked for Ringling from 1925 until 1985. He was a Master Teacher at Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Clown College from its beginning in 1968 until he retired in 1991. 
    Although his is not a household name, Lou Jacobs is an American icon like Emmett Kelly, Charlie Chaplin, Carol Burnett. And Pinto Colvig (Bozo), Patch Adams (portrayed by Robin Williams), and Bob Keeshan (among others) as Howdy Doody’s sidekick, Clarabell. 
    The organization Clowns Without Borders reminds us that laughter is healing. “After all, comic relief IS relief!” 
    So, of course, I wondered how that works. When clowns express all their feelings and invite their audiences to do that, too, it’s called mirroring. That’s what lets us laugh at ourselves.
    First, a little drop of history.
    Pharaohs had jesters in Ancient Egypt. They amused their audiences because they were allowed to break society’s rules.
    Native American cultures had sacred clowns who used humor to teach lessons.
    Jesters in medieval Europe entertained Kings and Queens, but their jobs were dangerous. They critiqued the court by disguising their criticism in layers of humor. They mocked the court, sometimes at great risk to themselves.
    Jesters evolved into our famous and not-so-famous clowns. But their exaggerated make-up and dazzling clothes, huge shoes, and tiny cars did not mask their purpose: to entertain us by reflecting our society in slapstick, surprises, self-deprecation, and dry humor, poking fun at our taboos. Deadpan, “potty” humor, and puns, even sarcasm can get us to laugh at ourselves when delivered well. 
    Now we have Saturday Night Live, John Oliver, and Stephen Colbert. Richard Pryor, Carroll O’Connor, and Mel Brooks. While not in traditional clown costumes, the point of their humor, too, is to help us laugh at ourselves. 
    Clowns let us humans feel our humanity. 
    We will do well to take their jokes as the wisdom they really are. These next four years could be the funniest ever, if time really heals and we all live through them.
    Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey is no longer performing live, but you can find an interview with Kenneth Feld, owner of the circus until he and his family closed it in 2017, lots of acts from the last RBBB show, and even the whole two-hour performance here on YouTube.             Their last Ringmaster, Johnathan Lee Iverson, might have said it best, though, when he quoted Dr. Seuss. “Don’t be sad that it’s over. Be glad that it happened.”  
    When RBBB closed for good on May 7, 2017, I thought the lights went out on all circuses forever. 
    Turns out Ringling was not the only show in town. In fact according to Wander Wisdom, over 50 circuses continue to tour in the United States every year. Some have a limited season, some a limited geographic area. Most have animal acts. All have acrobats. 
    But it’s clowns the audiences love most. 
    They help us laugh at ourselves.

I’m reading Murder Among Friends by Candace Fleming (Anne Schwartz Books, 2022). It’s a disturbing non-fiction study of how kids (the murderers were 19 years old) can grow up without a conscience. It’s a deep dive into what holds friendships together, and what drives them apart. This one’s not for everybody, but the research is thorough, and the compelling writing brings a new dimension to the “Gilded Age” in American history. 

                            Be curious! (and remember to laugh)