A Voice That Gives Me Hope

Robert Reich

After delightfully starting my morning with a video chat with my friend in Connecticut and her sister, I spent the rest of the day reading Terry Pratchett and watching YouTube videos. My favorite video was an interview with Robert Reich about his book Coming Up Short (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e_Jz_nxtZlI).

I subscribe to Reich on Substack and am a big fan. For those who may not know who he is, here’s a short description ChatGPT wrote for me:
“Robert Reich is an American economist, professor, author, and political commentator who has been a leading voice on economic inequality and public policy for decades. He served as Secretary of Labor under President Bill Clinton from 1993 to 1997, where he focused on workforce training, raising the minimum wage, and improving workplace safety. Reich has written numerous books on the economy, politics, and social issues, often emphasizing the dangers of concentrated wealth and power. He is also a professor at the University of California, Berkeley, where he teaches public policy, and he frequently shares his views through essays, documentaries, and social media. Known for his clear explanations of complex economic issues, Reich has become one of the most recognizable advocates for progressive economic reform in the United States.”

I started following Reich because of his excellent short videos that explain economics in ways that actually make sense. He argues that both Democratic and Republican presidents alike have catered to Wall Street, and in doing so, weakened the middle class. As wealth moved to the top, so did power. This left many Americans feeling like they had no future, paving the way for the Tea Party, and later MAGA. People across the political spectrum were craving someone authentic to come shake things up. Reich believes that if Bernie Sanders had run against forty-seven instead of Hillary Clinton in 2016, Sanders would have won.

In other words, Clinton’s loss wasn’t because she was a woman, but because she was viewed as part of the status quo.

Sadly, forty-seven’s current economic choices are once again putting more money and power into the hands of the very wealthy—while leaving the middle class behind.

Reich, who is the same age as forty-seven (as well as Bill Clinton, Dolly Parton, and Cher—all born in 1946), somehow still gives me hope for the future.

Maybe it’s just his mix of wisdom and persistence that makes me feel encouraged. If he can keep fighting for fairness at nearly 80, maybe the rest of us can keep believing things can change too.

Epstein Survivors Speak Out

Attorney Bradley Edwards speaks during a press conference to discuss the Epstein Files

 Transparency bill, directing the release of the remaining files related to the investigations

 into Jeffrey Epstein and Ghislaine Maxwell, on Capitol Hill in Washington, D.C., U.S., 

September 3, 2025. REUTERS/Jonathan Ernst

Listening to the Epstein survivors speak today is heartbreaking. What an American tragedy that justice has not been done.

I admire the women who have come forward to tell their stories of rape and abuse by Epstein and his so-called “friends.” They were further victimized in 2008 when Epstein was given a plea deal for sex trafficking underage girls. He was placed on a work release program in Florida — a system that allowed him to continue his depraved lifestyle. Then, in July 2019, New York filed charges of trafficking against Epstein. His alleged suicide in August was a coward’s way out — a final escape to never face the survivors or be held accountable for his actions.

I don’t know what creates a monster like Epstein (or any of the men sharing his depravity), but I do know that he and those who protected him are evil.

I think of Ellie Nesler walking into a courtroom and shooting Mark Driver five times, killing him instantly. At the time — 1993 — Megan was just one year old. I was in a phase where I couldn’t read about harm to children without bursting into tears and crying for hours. I don’t believe in vigilantism or the death penalty. But I do understand why Ellie Nesler made that decision — Driver had previous molestation convictions. Still, two wrongs don’t make a right.

Listening to Marjorie Taylor Greene today isn’t my favorite activity, but I respect that she is standing behind the bill to release all of Epstein’s files. Her speech reflected the fact that the Epstein case and the issue of molestation are not partisan issues. Two other Republican women, Lauren Boebert and Nancy Mace, have joined MTG in defying the White House and supporting the release of these files.

You can read about and listen to the survivors from several sources. One is the BBC: https://www.bbc.com/news/live/cpwywe5ee84t

The good news is that the Epstein survivors plan to compile a list of his known associates. As one survivor said, “We gave the U.S. government twenty years to do something. We are waiting no longer.” Allegedly, MTG has offered to read the list into Congress if asked.

Congress needs just two more Republicans to sign the discharge petition to release all Epstein files (with only survivor names redacted). The bill was introduced by Thomas Massie (R-Kentucky) and Ro Khanna (D-California). All 130 Democrats have signed it. Khanna has said the bill will remain on the floor until they get the final two signatures. Meanwhile, 47 is calling the Epstein files a “Democrat hoax.” Remember, that was the same person who promised his MAGA followers he would release the files when elected.

I hope justice will finally catch up with Epstein and those involved. These survivors deserve the truth, and our collective voice can help ensure that the system finally acts. We must stand against the evil and protect the innocent.

Essay by Anand Giridharadas: S'mores and Raids

I found this essay by Anand Giridharadas hauntingly real. It is a juxtoposition of a normal summer and the changes we heard about in our government. 

You can read (essays) and see (podcasts) Giridharadas' work on Substack.

Forwarded this email? Subscribe here for more ESSAY: S'mores and raids Summer under fascism Anand Giridharadas Sep 2   READ IN APP   The magnolias are coming in nicely. Did you hear about the National Guard? I can never find the pump for the inner tube. Did you hear they’re reining the the anti-corruption prosecutors? You can have two scoops, but promise you’ll eat dinner. Did you hear a teacher had to take down a sign saying, “Everyone is welcome here”? I can’t believe you grew those tomatoes. Did you hear they’re purging all these federal workers? And those tomatoes with the peaches — ridiculous! Did you hear Harvard is now handing over employees’ immigration records? Any good swimming holes around here? Did you hear they’re pushing out the head of Voice of America? Two carousel tickets, please. Did you hear they’re investigating Letitia James? Point your feet downstream so you don’t hit a rock headfirst. Did you hear they’re investigating Joe Biden? It’s three points if the bean bag falls into the holeDid you hear about the white South African refugees who just arrived? Just throw it right on the grill. Did you hear they’re going after public media? Don’t forget the strap underneath so the life jacket doesn’t slide up. Did you hear they’re threatening states that tried to expand access to voting? If it’s still light out, shall we go for a stroll after dinner? Did you hear they’re undoing all the incentives for switching to wind and solar? Can we stay up late and watch a movie? Did you hear the White House wants to ban “woke AI”? I’ll have the fried clam bellies. Did you hear he’s talking about the federal government taking over city policing? I’m telling you, it’s the song of the summer.. Did you hear about the ICE raids everywhere? Don’t forget sunscreen, sweetie. Did you hear the Supreme Court said judges can’t block unconstitutional laws nationwide anymore? Stay hydrated. Did you hear about the white South African refugees who just arrived? Just throw it right on the grill. Did you hear they’re going after public media? Don’t forget the strap underneath so the life jacket doesn’t slide up. Did you hear they’re threatening states that tried to expand access to voting? If it’s still light out, shall we go for a stroll after dinner? Did you hear they’re undoing all the incentives for switching to wind and solar? Can we stay up late and watch a movie? Did you hear the White House wants to ban “woke AI”? I’ll have the fried clam bellies. Did you hear he’s talking about the federal government taking over city policing? I’m telling you, it’s the song of the summer. Did you hear the tariffs are actually going to happen? I’ll meet you at the floating dock in half an hour. Did you hear about the loyalty tests? There is nothing like Italy in the summertime. Did you hear about the new travel ban? It’s basically a slushy. Did you hear he declared a crime emergency in D.C.? Can I borrow a bathing suit? Did you hear he’s trying to end mail-in voting? It’s more work to squeeze the lime juice, but it’s totally worth it. Did you hear he wants all federal buildings to follow a certain architectural style now? Do we have the stuff for s’mores? Did you hear they’re shutting down the Corporation for Public Broadcasting? I think let’s take it outside and make a picnic of it. Did you hear they’re cutting childcare on campuses? I can’t believe summer’s over.

 

Labor Day at Home

                                                                     Photo from the DOL website

Labor Day always feels like the last of summer. It’s a day to slow down, spend time with family, and maybe squeeze in one more cookout or day with the kids before fall really takes over. At the same time, it’s good to remember that the holiday was created to honor the hard work of ordinary people—the kind of work that keeps our lives running day to day. It’s both a break and a reminder of the value of work itself.

Labor Day began in the late 1800s when workers across the country wanted better pay, safer conditions, and shorter hours. The very first Labor Day parade took place in New York City in 1882, when thousands of workers marched together to make their voices heard. A dozen years later, in 1894, Congress made it a national holiday. Ever since, the first Monday in September has been a time to honor the people whose hard work builds and sustains our communities.

I chose to spend my Labor Day organizing paperwork. Yesterday my new two-drawer filing cabinet arrived, and it felt wrong to have it sitting empty while another drawer was stuffed to the gills with a mishmash of papers. I woke up this morning determined to right that wrong.

I took the time to sort and create files for all the folders the previous owners had left behind. More than once I’ve needed a manual and spent 20–30 minutes digging around for it. Now everything has its own folder and a proper place.

Meanwhile, Joe spent most of the day outside weeding. He says weeding isn’t labor for him—it’s something he enjoys, with his hands in the dirt and the yard taking shape.

It may not have been a grand holiday, but it was a good day—full of the kind of ordinary work that makes life run smoother and our home feel more settled.

If you want to read more about the history of labor day: https://www.dol.gov/general/laborday/history

A Day of Wonder

Oliver and I shared wonder today—in the woods, on the deck, and in the pages of this book.

Oliver and I spent the whole day together while Megan worked on projects. It was a good day from start to finish, with two fairly short naps—23 minutes and 30 minutes. Well, Oliver napped while I just closed my eyes and rested. I always worry I’ll drop him if I drift off, but even a few minutes of closing my eyes feels good.

Much of our time was spent on the floor, playing. Later, we went outside for a little “forest bathing.” We saw a bald eagle, a rabbit, and of course enjoyed the trees and clouds. I even sat him in his own patio chair, which he thought was very cool. Using the arms of the chair, he pulled himself up to his knees, with Grandma hovering close by.

At one point, I set him on the deck where he discovered a twig. Naturally, it went straight toward his mouth. I took it away gently, telling him, “Not for the mouth.” He studied it for a while and then tried again. When I reminded him, his little face puckered up and he cried. Each time he tested me with that twig, I repeated the rule. Finally, he gave it up, but not without crying like a banshee first.

Oliver is seven and a half months old, and it amazes me how fascinated he is by every object he touches. Together we explored the siding of the house, the drain spout, and he discovered that tapping on them makes a fun sound. Later, he was very curious about the parts for Megan’s blender that were in a box on the dining room table. A cup with holes in the bottom, a wide-mouthed funnel, and a plastic stirrer all caught his attention.

We also read an incredible book, Maybe: A Story About the Endless Possibility in All of Us by Kobi Yamada. The words remind us: You are the only you there ever has been or ever will be. You are unique in all the universe… The message is beautiful, but so are the illustrations.

A day of play with Oliver, paired with the gift of this book, filled me with joy.

The Gift of Ordinary Days

Caleb and Charlotte stayed with us until about 11:30 Friday morning. They woke up earlier than Joe and me and kept themselves entertained until we finally made our way downstairs around 9:00. (Joe and I hadn’t gotten to bed until 2:30 a.m. because of his work schedule.) For breakfast, we made fluffy pancakes. The kids told me they liked them but added, “If you add chocolate chips, they’d be even better!” Grandpa has already added chocolate chips to the grocery list.

Last night we went over to Megan’s for our monthly international snack tasting (Universal Yums). This month’s country was Korea, and most of the snacks were a hit. The one exception? Shrimp puffs. Imagine a Cheeto that tastes like shrimp—that’s exactly what they were. Jeremy and I both like shrimp but agreed that shrimp puffs were not palatable. Joe, Caleb, and Charlotte weren’t fans either. Megan didn’t join in this time, since she’s eating only whole/clean foods right now and left the processed snacks to the rest of us.

Yesterday our new freezer arrived! The previous owners had left behind a chest freezer with a broken latch. We made do by keeping a heavy box on top to keep the lid closed, and Joe would haul in whatever we needed. The new one is an upright model, which means I can open the door and reach in without the feeling that I might topple inside. Much easier.

And just in time, too—because today our annual meat order was ready for pickup. We brought home 103 pounds, all with a 20% discount. The only item that went up in price from last year was ground beef, but overall we saved $258, which came out to about $2.50 per pound compared to grocery store prices. The freezer is officially full now.

Joe and I also got our flu shots today. Since we were already at CVS, we picked up a few things. They gave us each a $10 merchandise coupon, and I used my HSA card to cover the rest. (The HSA rewards us with cash for healthy activities like getting flu shots, keeping up with annual checkups, scheduling home health nurse visits, or exercising at least ten days a month for thirty minutes.) After the HSA and the coupons, our $52 total came down to just sixty-three cents. And on top of that, anyone who got a flu shot received a free bag of popcorn. Joe and I laughed that it felt like we’d hit the jackpot.

I’m grateful for each one of our days—big or small, ordinary or special. Truly, these are the gift of ordinary days.

Crime Fighter, 47-Style

Everyone fears crime, no matter where they live. Even when the numbers show improvement, what we really want is zero crime. The big question is always: how do we get there? Some believe in tough federal crackdowns, while others, like me, think crime-fighting should be left to local police. (Do you remember when Republicans used to tout “States’ Rights”?)

Thanks to Robert Reich’s recent Substack post, I realized it may be time to give credit where credit is due — and point out that we’re not giving 47 nearly enough credit for his efforts to “fight crime.” Here’s just a partial list of how he’s been helping America in this area:

• Pardoned the 1,500 criminals who violently attacked the United States Capitol, leading to the deaths of four police officers — and then fired the federal prosecutors who held them accountable.

• Hobbled the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau, froze enforcement of the Foreign Corrupt Practices Act, disbanded the National Cryptocurrency Enforcement Team, and backed off most federal lawsuits involving money laundering, crypto markets, and foreign corruption.

• Granted clemency to Lawrence Duran, a health care executive convicted of running a massive Medicare fraud and money laundering scheme.

• Commuted the 14-year sentence of Jason Galanis, who defrauded investors — including a Native American tribe and a teachers’ pension fund — of tens of millions of dollars.

• Pardoned Julie and Todd Chrisley, the reality TV stars convicted of bank fraud and tax evasion.

• Dropped charges against New York City Mayor Eric Adams, who had been indicted on bribery charges.

• Ended investigations and lawsuits against many Big Tech corporations that had been facing federal scrutiny.

• Directed the Department of Justice to drop its criminal case against Boeing, despite the company’s role in two plane crashes that killed 346 people — even after Boeing had agreed to plead guilty.

• And let’s not forget: Trump himself was found guilty on all 34 counts of falsifying business records in the first degree, related to payments made to Stormy Daniels before the 2016 presidential election.

For those looking for “both-sides-ism” or a historical rundown of what every president has done about crime — don’t hold your breath. This is about the here and now.

Forty-seven claims to be a genius at solving crime. And in a sick, twisted way, maybe he is. He simply redefines what “crime” is — then commutes, pardons, or ignores anything that benefits him and his allies. Problem solved.

A Sleepover to End the Summer

August 28, 2025

Charlotte watching television.

Caleb is playing on his Switch because he was not interested in 

Charlotte's choice of movie. He got to choose the next movie.

Caleb and Charlotte are spending the night with us while Megan, Jeremy, and Oliver went to the Gophers’ first football game of the season.

The grandkids and I had a fun evening—dinner at Applebee’s and then movies at home until 11:30 p.m. That’s pretty late for them, but they managed it just fine.

Even though we have three guest bedrooms, I let them decide where they wanted to sleep. Both chose the family room. Charlotte wanted the tent, so Grandpa Joe set it up before he left for work. Caleb preferred to sleep out in the open on our special foam air mattress.

It feels like summer has slipped by in a flash, but nights like this remind me to appreciate these sweet moments.

Finding Laughter (A Meme Day)

 

And some not so funny ...

Happiness is Okay

Sharing from Substack because this resonated with me and I thought it might help others feel better about feeling happy and experiencing joy when and where they can.

Joy as Resistance

It's okay to feel happiness when the world is on fire

Sharon McMahon

Aug 25, 2025

By Isla Flaherty

In a world where headlines are often heartbreaks packaged for immediate consumption, where images of humanitarian crises in Gaza, families ripped apart at immigration hearings, and global conflicts scroll past without pause, our feeds rarely let us catch our breath. But for a moment, everything seemed to change. Taylor Swift announced her latest album, The Life of a Showgirl, and social media exploded. Fans spotted Easter eggs, livestreamed their reactions to her New Heights podcast appearance, where she sat next to her boyfriend Travis Kelce, and flooded timelines with excitement and anticipation. For a few brief hours, Swifties felt joy creep in, and everything else seemed to stop.

Travis Kelce and Taylor Swift

But was it right to stop? Should we allow ourselves to forget, even for a moment, all the problems in our country and our world?

Especially for those living with constant fear or loss, stopping to celebrate, even momentarily, can feel irresponsible. Yet both history and psychology suggest that joy, even when we are suffering, serves a crucial purpose: it is a means of survival and, at times, a form of resistance.

The Psychology of Pausing

Positive psychology, “a branch of psychology focused on the character strengths and behaviors that allow individuals to build a life of meaning and purpose,” helps us understand why allowing moments of joy matters. Joyful experiences activate our brain’s reward system and counteract stress. Over time, they help prevent emotional burnout, anxiety, and numbness.

The Big Joy Project, a study led by researchers at UC Berkeley’s Greater Good Science Center, supports these findings. More than 70,000 participants across 200 countries were asked to practice simple “micro-acts of joy,” such as doing something kind, making gratitude lists, or celebrating another’s happiness. Each act was small, but the results were large: participants' overall sense of well-being, defined as a “composite of their self-rated life satisfaction, happy feelings, and meaning in life,” jumped 26% in just one week, and positive emotions, including “hope, optimism, wonder, amazement, amusement, and silliness,” increased by 23%. In other words, joy isn’t just fleeting, passive pleasure; it’s a tool of resilience with cumulative benefits, and there are techniques for creating it.

Yet the question lingers: how can people create joy when surrounded by suffering? Viktor Frankl, Holocaust survivor and author of Man’s Search for Meaning, offers a vital perspective. He observed that even when life is stripped to its barest essentials, individuals have the freedom to choose their response. “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms — to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances.” Frankl illuminates why, across history, individuals and communities have sought brief moments of happiness even under extreme threat. It is not escapism, but an assertion of agency, the choice to find meaning and persevere amid suffering.

Viktor Frankl

The Lesson of The Telly Cycle

Poet Toi Derricotte writes that “joy is an act of resistance” in her work The Telly Cycle. Derricotte explores this idea through the lens of a bond with her pet fish.

Born in 1941 in Michigan, Derricotte often grapples with themes of identity, trauma, and resilience. As a Black woman navigating a society that frequently questions her worth, she consistently finds meaning in the intimate and personal.

In The Telly Cycle, Derricotte asks, “Why would a Black woman need a fish to love?” The question reveals the deep human need for connection. Choosing happiness, Derricotte suggests, is a radical act of defiance. The fish becomes a metaphor for a small, sustaining source of joy, and Derricotte reminds readers that the pursuit of happiness is not frivolous but necessary, a way to reclaim agency over one’s life.

Turning Sunshine into Savings

Today, Joe and I decided to take the plunge and purchase solar for our home here in Saint Michael. With the 30% federal tax incentive expiring on December 31, 2025 (thanks to the big ugly bill that cancels incentives for green and clean energy), this year felt like the right time to make it happen.

We do face one obstacle: our house sits in a “red zone” according to the local utility company. That said, a highly rated solar company (4.9 out of 5 stars) assured us they’ll do everything they can to make this work. They explained that a red zone doesn’t automatically mean “no”—it just means extra effort on everyone’s part.

If it all comes together, our return on investment will be about eight years when comparing the cost of solar to what we currently spend on utilities. The benefits for Joe and me are worth it:

• We can live our values by supporting renewable energy and helping the environment.

• Even though we’re careful with resources, solar lets us use what we need (like Joe’s shop equipment) without guilt.

• It increases our home’s value by 4–6%, which means at just 4% we’d recoup our investment when we eventually sell.

• We’ll enjoy tiny electric bills—about $10 a month.

I know some people choose to lease solar, but that’s never made sense to me. Leases often aren’t transferable, and in California, friends who sold their homes had to either pay off the lease in full or pay to have the panels removed. Since Joe and I plan for this to be our last home, buying outright just feels right. Especially as our utility company (much like Pacific Gas and Electric in California) is already asking for more rate hikes to cover grid updates.

Even Google’s AI admits that Xcel Energy, our provider, is under scrutiny for a host of issues—rate increases, grid reliability, wildfire liability, solar delays, and ties to the American Gas Association. My family and friends in California can definitely relate. Other than that gas association piece, you could pretty much swap “Xcel Energy” with “PG&E” and it would sound the same story.

All in all, while there are some hoops to jump through, Joe and I feel good about this step. It lines up with our values, helps us do our part for the planet, and makes sense financially in the long run. Here’s hoping that red zone turns green for us!

The Joy of Oliver

Oliver and Megan wearing their Gophers' colors

Today I played with Oliver for a few hours. We spent time on the family room floor and out on the back deck at Megan and Jeremy's house. The second time we went outside, it was close to his nap time. After two minutes of crying (his little ritual when he’s tired), he conked out in my arms. Holding a sleeping baby is healing in a way that’s hard to describe.

Oliver has little quirks right now that make me laugh. One of them is how fascinated he is with the floor. When I hold him facing out, he bends at the waist to study it closely, scanning every direction as though there’s a secret down there he might discover. It actually reminds me of a yoga stretch I do where I lean side to side for a count of thirty seconds.

Another quirk is that Oliver seems far more interested in standing than crawling. Crawling doesn’t appear to be on his agenda at all. He rolls and stretches to reach his toys, but getting on his knees? Not interested. Several times today, he reached out for my hands, grabbed a finger in each of his, and pulled himself into a stand. Once up, he tried to walk, beaming with pride.

At one point, I bent down to pick him up, but instead he grabbed my hands and pulled himself up on his own. I wasn’t ready for that move and immediately felt something give in my lower back. I had to sit on the couch to catch my breath while Oliver bounced happily on his feet, thrilled with himself. His joy is contagious, even when I’m wincing a little.

And then there are the tags. Oliver loves tags on toys, pillows—anything. He studies them as seriously as he does his toys, and of course, every tag goes straight into his mouth. I’m hoping this tag obsession is his version of my childhood habit of eating dirt. Maybe he’s just building himself one heck of an immune system.

Jeremy came home from work just as Oliver had decided he’d had enough of grandma for the day. The instant he saw his dad, he went from cranky to the happiest baby in the world—just like flipping a switch.

It was a full and funny day, one of those times when small moments turn into memories. I hope your Sunday held a little peace and joy, too.

Finding Strength in the Exhaustion

I’m not much in the mood to write today. Yesterday I had such a good time with the grandkids, and today I tried to catch up on the news. Mistake number one—thinking I could ever “catch up” when so much is being thrown at us every single day.

Mistake number two—forgetting that most of what gets reported isn’t “good news.” That just doesn’t draw people in.

All this left me realizing that I can’t live in a doom-and-gloom state of mind for more than a few days before I need to step back. Of course, the fear of missing something important keeps me from really stepping away.

It’s exhausting. And maybe that’s the point. Those who want power—Putin, Netanyahu, Kim Jong Un, Xi Jinping, and forty-seven—count on people wearing down. Wannabe kings who make life harder for others while they chase control. In the end, they’ll all be gone, and history won’t remember them kindly.

Still, even with the exhaustion, I know “tired” can’t be an excuse. I’ll keep speaking up and speaking out, and I hope you will too. It’s what we can do to make sure we’re the ones choosing our leaders—locally, statewide, and nationally.

For now, I’m sending love to you all and reminding myself (and maybe you, too) to take breaks when needed. We’ll need our strength for the days ahead.

Another ‘Grand’ Day

Summer Fridays are among my favorite days. Two of our three grandchildren have spent most Fridays with us this summer. We eat lunch and watch movies. Sometimes the movie is at Saint Micheal Cinema and other times we watch movies at our house.

This morning we picked up Caleb and Charlotte, did our errands to get supplies for movie watching (popcorn from the cinema [$1 for a full bucket], slushies  plus a choice of candy for Charlotte at the Holiday Gas Station, and a final stop at McDonalds for Happy Meals) and then to our house to watch “The Electric State.”

Around 4:00pm we took the grands home and visited with the youngest grandchild - seven month old Oliver. While we played on the floor in the living room, Caleb and Charlotte showed Oliver what a pillow fight was all about. Pan and Sylvie, the grandpups, got into the action by licking (dog kisses) all of us.

Meanwhile, Megan was in another part of the house. When we got ready to leave I found her in the kitchen. She told me she had a headache and that we were a noisy bunch. She left out the ‘joyous’ part of the sentence as we were most definitely ‘joyous in our noisiness.’

Joe and I finished up our day with a trip to Costco, putting groceries away, and spending quiet time in our respective office spaces. I listened to podcasts while Joe watched YouTube videos. We were ‘joyous in our space.’

Learning to Do Better

I haven’t always been “woke” in certain areas. Until around 2015, I really hadn’t given much thought to the LGBTQIA+ community. On the edges of my awareness, I knew my daughter had friends who identified as part of the community, but I didn’t understand how deeply this affected their lives.

For example, I didn’t know that one of her friends who transitioned from female to male in college had been disowned by his mother. I also didn’t know that transgender people are among the most targeted for violence.

In 2015, my work in Human Resources forced me to confront both my own beliefs and the attitudes of others. I worked for a small, family-owned business that was in growth mode, and I started to learn about microaggressions—especially toward people of color and anyone who didn’t fit someone else’s idea of “the right way to be human.”

Microaggressions can show up as stereotyping, invalidation, assumptions of inferiority, “exoticizing” people, or subtle insults. In the cases I dealt with, they were usually unintentional—rooted in unconscious biases.

Pronouns were another big eye-opener for me. I hadn’t thought much about how important they were to people and how they identified. Using “they/their” for one person was especially difficult for many older folks (myself included—I was in my early 60s at the time). Fortunately, I was gently corrected enough times that I finally got the hang of it.

It wasn’t unusual for older employees to ask why they had to use someone’s preferred pronouns. In most cases, I encouraged them to simply use the person’s name if they were uncomfortable or unsure. We also talked about what to do if they slipped up—how to correct it and move forward. Before long, we were all correcting each other, and within a couple of months, mistakes became rare. Proof, to me, that people of all ages can adjust when the goal is to show respect for others.

When microaggressions did occur, we focused on education. We’d watch short videos or read articles to help people see how small comments or behaviors—even when unintentional—can cause harm. Here’s one tip: if your sentence starts with “your people” and ends with “are all alike,” it’s best not to say it at all.

If you Google “microaggressions,” you’ll find plenty of resources about how to communicate more respectfully with others. Because when we know better, we can do better.

Now if only we could get Forty-Seven and his cabinet educated.