As I prepare to move on to a new phase of life, permit me to take a moment to congratulate the winners of last night’s election to the Cathedral City City Council.
After eight years of service to the people of Cathedral City, I depart knowing that, in the words of St. Paul, I have fought the good fight and run the good race. My course is run for now, and I turn to new endeavors with a clear conscience.
I also congratulate the mayor on her re-election, as well as the City Clerk on hers.
Finally, I extend my deepest thanks to the Citizens of Cathedral City who, over the years supported me and the ideas I brought to the service of this community. While I may be leaving the council, the vision I strove to articulate will continue, of building a Cathedral City we can all be proud to live in, proud to work in, and finally, proud to pass on to the next generation.
As Governor-Elect Jerry Brown has said, we must take the world as we find it. But we must never be content to leave it that way, and in the months and years to come, I hope that my service on the council will have incrementally left Cathedral City a better place for all of us.
So, while I will bid you adieu, I do so with gratitude for what has been accomplished, and hope for what lies ahead.
Regards,
Paul S. Marchand
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Thursday, October 14, 2010
El Rescate: Thoughts on the Chile Mine Rescue
“We’ll see each other through.”
-From The Dispossessed, Ursula K. LeGuin
Almost by definition, “news” is usually about something bad. The every day triumphs and kindnesses that often punctuate our lives generally go unremarked, while disaster usually commands Page One; if it bleeds, it leads.
Yet every once in a while, a bad beginning produces a happy ending, as when 33 miners, trapped half a mile underground for more than 60 days, were successfully rescued in Chile yesterday afternoon. While the world watched, waited, and prayed, an international effort months in the making came to a conclusion more successful than many had dared hope.
In the back of our collective mind there always lurked a fearful apprehension that what seemed like a hopelessly Rube Goldberg contrivance for bringing the miners thousands of feet up to the surface and safety might not work at all, or might fail during the operation, leaving some or all of the miners trapped and possibly condemned to a miserable, lingering death.
Certainly, in a time of diminished expectations and reduced confidence, such an outcome might have mirrored the mindset of many, but today, all 33 of the miners are on the surface, safe and sound. Yesterday afternoon, just as the Cathedral City City Council was preparing to go into its evening session, the news broke that the last miner had been brought safely to the surface. I was able to share that news with my colleagues and with the city staff and members of the public who were present in the Council chamber.
The look of palpable relief on the faces of many in the room told its own story of how involved all of us had become in the rescue effort, and how much emotional capital we had invested in the safe return of the trapped miners to the surface, to the world of light, and to their families.
In that moment, as people around the world shared a sense of relief, of promises kept and hopes fulfilled, we were all Chilean; in that brief moment, the collective heart of humanity was beating as one.
In a grouchy and often angrily divided time, it is all the more important to cherish the events that bring us together. As human beings, we are at our best when we build communities and when we rally to one another in times of adversity. For there is, deep within the human soul, a strong sense that we rise or fall, live or die, together; as John Donne observed nearly four centuries ago, we are involved in one another. Our profoundly human conviction that in tough times, we’ll see each other through -- a conviction amply borne out in Chile over the last two months -- is what makes it possible for a civil society not merely to endure, but to thrive.
For those of us who are called to public service, the greatest challenge of our service is remembering and reaffirming the importance of community. It is easy to practice a politics of division; indeed, our dialogue often fixates upon finding points of contention over which to engage in furious controversy, of never letting facts get in the way of a good fight.
The harder, nobler politics we ought to pursue is one in which we remember that by seeing each other through, we build a civil society in which ideas may compete, initiative can be cherished, innovation can change lives and communities for the better, and the freedoms we hold dear can be enjoyed by all.
For in the end, our job in public service is to prove that Thomas Hobbes was wrong when he spoke of the state of nature as being one of “war of all against all,” and our lives therein being “poor, nasty, brutish, and short.” In Chile, the world came together and showed that, even if briefly, we need not resign ourselves to such a dystopian, Hobbesian view.
Paul S. Marchand is an attorney who lives and works in Cathedral City, where he is seeking re-election to the City Council. The views expressed herein are his own, and not necessarily those of the Municipal Corporation or of its Redevelopment Agency.
“We’ll see each other through.”
-From The Dispossessed, Ursula K. LeGuin
Almost by definition, “news” is usually about something bad. The every day triumphs and kindnesses that often punctuate our lives generally go unremarked, while disaster usually commands Page One; if it bleeds, it leads.
Yet every once in a while, a bad beginning produces a happy ending, as when 33 miners, trapped half a mile underground for more than 60 days, were successfully rescued in Chile yesterday afternoon. While the world watched, waited, and prayed, an international effort months in the making came to a conclusion more successful than many had dared hope.
In the back of our collective mind there always lurked a fearful apprehension that what seemed like a hopelessly Rube Goldberg contrivance for bringing the miners thousands of feet up to the surface and safety might not work at all, or might fail during the operation, leaving some or all of the miners trapped and possibly condemned to a miserable, lingering death.
Certainly, in a time of diminished expectations and reduced confidence, such an outcome might have mirrored the mindset of many, but today, all 33 of the miners are on the surface, safe and sound. Yesterday afternoon, just as the Cathedral City City Council was preparing to go into its evening session, the news broke that the last miner had been brought safely to the surface. I was able to share that news with my colleagues and with the city staff and members of the public who were present in the Council chamber.
The look of palpable relief on the faces of many in the room told its own story of how involved all of us had become in the rescue effort, and how much emotional capital we had invested in the safe return of the trapped miners to the surface, to the world of light, and to their families.
In that moment, as people around the world shared a sense of relief, of promises kept and hopes fulfilled, we were all Chilean; in that brief moment, the collective heart of humanity was beating as one.
In a grouchy and often angrily divided time, it is all the more important to cherish the events that bring us together. As human beings, we are at our best when we build communities and when we rally to one another in times of adversity. For there is, deep within the human soul, a strong sense that we rise or fall, live or die, together; as John Donne observed nearly four centuries ago, we are involved in one another. Our profoundly human conviction that in tough times, we’ll see each other through -- a conviction amply borne out in Chile over the last two months -- is what makes it possible for a civil society not merely to endure, but to thrive.
For those of us who are called to public service, the greatest challenge of our service is remembering and reaffirming the importance of community. It is easy to practice a politics of division; indeed, our dialogue often fixates upon finding points of contention over which to engage in furious controversy, of never letting facts get in the way of a good fight.
The harder, nobler politics we ought to pursue is one in which we remember that by seeing each other through, we build a civil society in which ideas may compete, initiative can be cherished, innovation can change lives and communities for the better, and the freedoms we hold dear can be enjoyed by all.
For in the end, our job in public service is to prove that Thomas Hobbes was wrong when he spoke of the state of nature as being one of “war of all against all,” and our lives therein being “poor, nasty, brutish, and short.” In Chile, the world came together and showed that, even if briefly, we need not resign ourselves to such a dystopian, Hobbesian view.
-xxx-
Paul S. Marchand is an attorney who lives and works in Cathedral City, where he is seeking re-election to the City Council. The views expressed herein are his own, and not necessarily those of the Municipal Corporation or of its Redevelopment Agency.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
REMARKS TO THE CATHEDRAL CITY CHAMBER OF COMMERCE
[The following “revised and extended” remarks are based on my address to the Cathedral City Chamber of Commerce on Wednesday, October 6, 2010.]
When my Cathedral city neighbors first called me to service as a city councilman, I didn’t make a lot of promises I knew I probably wouldn’t be able to keep.
I didn’t offer undertakings that would depend upon a vote, because as anyone who has ever served in local government can tell you, with a five person council, you always have to be able to count to three.
The promises I did make were ones I knew I could keep.
I promised that I would be independent, that I would be innovative, and I would carry out the duties of my office with integrity.
I have kept all of those promises.
I have been and will continue to be independent. I am not a member of any clique, group, or faction in city government. The only team I play for is team Cathedral City, the more than 50,000 neighbors whom it is my honor to serve. And on your behalf -as The Desert Sun noted when it endorsed my re-election- I have never been afraid to ask the tough questions; I won’t march along with the status quo, and I won’t accept conformist groupthink. My commitment is, and always has been, that I will represent 100 percent of the people of this community 100 percent of the time, no matter how you look, how you live, or how you love; how you work, how you worship, or how you vote.
I have kept that promise.
Not only have I been independent, I have also been, and will continue to be, the most innovative and forward-thinking member of the city Council. The tangible proof of my track record of innovation can be seen in Cathedral City’s Downtown Energy Savings/Conservation Initiative, which is not only saving the City more than $100,000 a year off its Edison bill, but which is also reducing greenhouse gas emissions by hundreds of tons a year, and helping enhance America’s national security by incrementally reducing our national dependence on nonrenewable fossil fuels.
If re-elected, I will work to bring to Cathedral city an initiative that has been successful in other Riverside County communities, which brings together Labor and the development community in an innovative apprenticeship project to teach unemployed workers building-trades skills while rehabilitating homes which have been abandoned through foreclosure or because their owners simply walked away from burdens they could no longer bear.
If re-elected I will insist that we take up again the great work of not only greening Cathedral City’s economy by encouraging economic development in the new, emerging “green industries,” but also by exploring the possibility of a waste fired electricity generating plant to enable the city either to sell electricity to a utility or, through community choice aggregation, to sell electricity to our own residents less expensively than Edison does. Such an energy solution represents a win-win; proceeds of electricity sales to utilities can go to augment our struggling general fund, and a community choice aggregation could enable the city to provide inexpensive electricity to residents while also helping to grow our general fund -- all without having to seek any new tax increases.
That’s a promise of innovation I’ll push to make real for all of my fellow residents in Cathedral City.
I have conducted myself with integrity. I have never been, and will never be, a captive of any special interest group, any time or anywhere. I have never sought, and will never seek, to enrich myself or anyone close to me at the expense of the public fisc. I have not sought, and will not accept, the endorsement of any collective bargaining unit with which the City is now, or may be, engaged in employee contract negotiations. I would never want to subject any collective bargaining unit, the City, or myself, to the slightest degree of suspicion with respect to the contract negotiation process.
These are the self-denying promises I made when I first took office, and I can proudly look my neighbors in the eye and say that I have kept them, and will keep them.
But public service is not just based on making and keeping promises about oneself and one’s conduct. For not only did I make promises which I have kept, but I also made some very simple commitments about the way in which I would approach policy and public service.
I made a commitment that I would be a careful steward of the public’s money. I have said “no” to expenditures that I felt were wasteful, frivolous, or were better made by the private sector. I have been the Grinch by voting “no” on the downtown Christmas tree lighting, because I feel it is an opportunity to bring the private sector into partnership with the city to support a non-core activity that should not be subsidized using scarce taxpayer dollars. I have also consistently opposed the unconstrained growth of the city’s general fund budget, because I feel, and have felt, that we must draw the line against dipping too far, too fast, too soon, into reserves that -despite the sunny sentiments of some in city government- continue to diminish.
In tough economic times, the greatness of the community is measured by the extent to which we the people come together and see each other through to better days. We cannot afford the false and dangerous luxury of fragmenting this most richly diverse community in our Coachella Valley by indulging in wedge issue or culture war politics.
While others may seek to turn on one another, working out their insecurities in a politics of division, I ask my neighbors to recommit to building a Cathedral City we can all be proud to live in, to work in, to invite visitors to enjoy, and most importantly, to pass on to our posterity.
I am ready to continue that great work. I ask for your help to build that Cathedral City we know is possible, and I ask for your vote so that together we can all see each other through to better days.
When my Cathedral city neighbors first called me to service as a city councilman, I didn’t make a lot of promises I knew I probably wouldn’t be able to keep.
I didn’t offer undertakings that would depend upon a vote, because as anyone who has ever served in local government can tell you, with a five person council, you always have to be able to count to three.
The promises I did make were ones I knew I could keep.
I promised that I would be independent, that I would be innovative, and I would carry out the duties of my office with integrity.
I have kept all of those promises.
I have been and will continue to be independent. I am not a member of any clique, group, or faction in city government. The only team I play for is team Cathedral City, the more than 50,000 neighbors whom it is my honor to serve. And on your behalf -as The Desert Sun noted when it endorsed my re-election- I have never been afraid to ask the tough questions; I won’t march along with the status quo, and I won’t accept conformist groupthink. My commitment is, and always has been, that I will represent 100 percent of the people of this community 100 percent of the time, no matter how you look, how you live, or how you love; how you work, how you worship, or how you vote.
I have kept that promise.
Not only have I been independent, I have also been, and will continue to be, the most innovative and forward-thinking member of the city Council. The tangible proof of my track record of innovation can be seen in Cathedral City’s Downtown Energy Savings/Conservation Initiative, which is not only saving the City more than $100,000 a year off its Edison bill, but which is also reducing greenhouse gas emissions by hundreds of tons a year, and helping enhance America’s national security by incrementally reducing our national dependence on nonrenewable fossil fuels.
If re-elected, I will work to bring to Cathedral city an initiative that has been successful in other Riverside County communities, which brings together Labor and the development community in an innovative apprenticeship project to teach unemployed workers building-trades skills while rehabilitating homes which have been abandoned through foreclosure or because their owners simply walked away from burdens they could no longer bear.
If re-elected I will insist that we take up again the great work of not only greening Cathedral City’s economy by encouraging economic development in the new, emerging “green industries,” but also by exploring the possibility of a waste fired electricity generating plant to enable the city either to sell electricity to a utility or, through community choice aggregation, to sell electricity to our own residents less expensively than Edison does. Such an energy solution represents a win-win; proceeds of electricity sales to utilities can go to augment our struggling general fund, and a community choice aggregation could enable the city to provide inexpensive electricity to residents while also helping to grow our general fund -- all without having to seek any new tax increases.
That’s a promise of innovation I’ll push to make real for all of my fellow residents in Cathedral City.
I have conducted myself with integrity. I have never been, and will never be, a captive of any special interest group, any time or anywhere. I have never sought, and will never seek, to enrich myself or anyone close to me at the expense of the public fisc. I have not sought, and will not accept, the endorsement of any collective bargaining unit with which the City is now, or may be, engaged in employee contract negotiations. I would never want to subject any collective bargaining unit, the City, or myself, to the slightest degree of suspicion with respect to the contract negotiation process.
These are the self-denying promises I made when I first took office, and I can proudly look my neighbors in the eye and say that I have kept them, and will keep them.
But public service is not just based on making and keeping promises about oneself and one’s conduct. For not only did I make promises which I have kept, but I also made some very simple commitments about the way in which I would approach policy and public service.
I made a commitment that I would be a careful steward of the public’s money. I have said “no” to expenditures that I felt were wasteful, frivolous, or were better made by the private sector. I have been the Grinch by voting “no” on the downtown Christmas tree lighting, because I feel it is an opportunity to bring the private sector into partnership with the city to support a non-core activity that should not be subsidized using scarce taxpayer dollars. I have also consistently opposed the unconstrained growth of the city’s general fund budget, because I feel, and have felt, that we must draw the line against dipping too far, too fast, too soon, into reserves that -despite the sunny sentiments of some in city government- continue to diminish.
In tough economic times, the greatness of the community is measured by the extent to which we the people come together and see each other through to better days. We cannot afford the false and dangerous luxury of fragmenting this most richly diverse community in our Coachella Valley by indulging in wedge issue or culture war politics.
While others may seek to turn on one another, working out their insecurities in a politics of division, I ask my neighbors to recommit to building a Cathedral City we can all be proud to live in, to work in, to invite visitors to enjoy, and most importantly, to pass on to our posterity.
I am ready to continue that great work. I ask for your help to build that Cathedral City we know is possible, and I ask for your vote so that together we can all see each other through to better days.
-xxx-
Paul S. Marchand is an attorney who lives and works in Cathedral City, where he is seeking re-election to the city council. The views expressed herein are his own. For more information, please visit his website, www.Marchand2010.com
Friday, July 23, 2010
Daniel Schorr: An Appreciation
Another of the great ones is gone.
Daniel Schorr, whose calm, careful, deliberate, unhurried delivery of the news gave a "listen, this is worth hearing" quality to whatever he was reporting on, passed away today at 93.
Like Walter Cronkite, Daniel Schorr offered journalism you could rely on; you could take what Daniel Schorr said to the bank.
Like Walter Cronkite, you could trust him.
From the early 1970s, seeing him on the CBS news, right up to this month, when I heard his carefully modulated delivery on NPR, I remember with pleasure watching and hearing his carefully crafted stories, how every word was chosen with such considerate deliberation and attention to detail.
His was craftsmanship that conferred gravitas on the art of broadcast journalism. It was no surprise that Ted Turner recruited him to help bring throw weight to a spunky little startup called CNN.
Daniel Schorr was old school in the way he pursued his craft, and he was old school in never descending to the lowest common denominator. While Daniel Schorr, like all of us, had his own opinions and views, he never let those views get in the way of the facts.
Too often, in an echo-chamber culture in which confirmation bias has led to a tendency to hear only those voices that reaffirm our own beliefs and opinions, we forget how important facts, those stubborn things, can be.
Daniel Schorr never forget how important facts are. We could do him no greater honor than to come out of the echo chamber and once again remember for ourselves that facts matter, no matter how stubborn they may be.
Daniel Schorr, whose calm, careful, deliberate, unhurried delivery of the news gave a "listen, this is worth hearing" quality to whatever he was reporting on, passed away today at 93.
Like Walter Cronkite, Daniel Schorr offered journalism you could rely on; you could take what Daniel Schorr said to the bank.
Like Walter Cronkite, you could trust him.
From the early 1970s, seeing him on the CBS news, right up to this month, when I heard his carefully modulated delivery on NPR, I remember with pleasure watching and hearing his carefully crafted stories, how every word was chosen with such considerate deliberation and attention to detail.
His was craftsmanship that conferred gravitas on the art of broadcast journalism. It was no surprise that Ted Turner recruited him to help bring throw weight to a spunky little startup called CNN.
Daniel Schorr was old school in the way he pursued his craft, and he was old school in never descending to the lowest common denominator. While Daniel Schorr, like all of us, had his own opinions and views, he never let those views get in the way of the facts.
Too often, in an echo-chamber culture in which confirmation bias has led to a tendency to hear only those voices that reaffirm our own beliefs and opinions, we forget how important facts, those stubborn things, can be.
Daniel Schorr never forget how important facts are. We could do him no greater honor than to come out of the echo chamber and once again remember for ourselves that facts matter, no matter how stubborn they may be.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Citizens, not Subjects: Thoughts for Independence Day, 2010
An interesting bit of new scholarship, showing that in his early draft of the Declaration of Independence, Thomas Jefferson had systematically replaced the word “subject” with the word “citizen,” shows that even now there is still much to learn about one of the most important documents in the history of the world.
Of course, reading how Jefferson had gone back and deliberately substituted “citizen” for “subject,” naturally triggers some thoughts about our American experience, and about the difference between citizens and subjects, and how one single word can radically alter the dynamic between governor and governed.
Today, given that the United Kingdom is also one of the world’s great democracies, it may seem as if the difference between citizen and subject is essentially meaningless. Certainly, the “Liberties of the Subject” enjoyed by those owing allegiance to the British Crown are far more extensive than the often-disregarded “rights” theoretically enjoyed by the citizens of ostensibly democratic states. Better, in many cases, to be a subject of her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II than, say, a citizen of the Republic of Kyrgyzstan.
Nevertheless, the word “subject” still carries with it a whole series of feudal overtones and baggage. In the back of one’s mind, the word “subject” can still raise images of someone kneeling before a sovereign reciting the ancient formula “I am your liege man of life and limb,” as Charles, Prince of Wales, did before his mother the Queen, at his investiture at Caernarfon Castle in 1969.
On the other hand, the word “citizen” carries with it echoes of the world’s earliest democracies, of Athens and of the Roman Republic. Time was, as scriptural accounts of St. Paul’s experience before the Roman governor of Judea remind us, that the words “I am a Roman citizen,” carried enormous weight. For us, citizenship, rather than subjection, implies membership in what the authors of the Mayflower Compact of 1620 called “a Civil Body Politic,” in which the existence of the Commonwealth is not a function of royal command, but the conscious and deliberate act of a group of equals.
Because citizenship itself implies equality among individuals, the very concept of classes of citizenship has traditionally been regarded as repugnant. In a Republic, composed of citizens, equality before the law and equality of opportunity are integral to true citizenship and participation within the Commonwealth. Unless every citizen of a particular Commonwealth possesses authentic, first-class citizenship, we cannot say that any individual within such a Commonwealth is truly a citizen, but merely a subject to whom the sovereign or government --- as used to be the case in South Africa --- affords greater or lesser degrees of privilege at its own convenience and to serve its own ends.
Under such circumstances, where privilege and the ability to participate in the civic life of the body politic are dependent upon officially defined status, or where certain members within that body politic are officially interdicted from living in certain areas, engaging in certain professions, marrying certain other individuals, or are otherwise limited in their liberty, the society in question contains within itself the seeds of its own dissolution.
As America enters the 235th year of her independence, she stands challenged, as she always has been, to ensure that when any American speaks the words “I am an American citizen,” the speaker can do so in the sure and certain knowledge that he or she will not be circumscribed or limited in the exercise of that citizenship on the basis of any invidious distinction of race, religion, gender, sexual orientation, ethnicity, disability, or any other characteristic which is now, or has been, used to limit the liberty of the different. President John F. Kennedy once famously observed that “the rights of every man are diminished when the rights of one man are threatened.”
While Pres. Kennedy’s remarks were made in the context of a Cold War, and were directed toward our adversary in that conflict, they apply to us as well. None of us can claim first-class citizenship unless our neighbors are first-class citizens along with us. It was, perhaps ironically, Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams who expressed most aptly what is truly the American challenge: we must all learn what it means to be human alongside others. On this Independence Day, we must all learn what it means to be American alongside our fellows who may not look like us, live like us, love like us, work like us, worship like us, vote like us, or root for the same squad at the All-Star Game. (And yes, that means even Yankees and Red Sox fans.)
For when the sound and the fury are over, and the issues that transfixed us this week have been lost in the flurry of the next news cycle, what is left over is our common heritage as Americans, a heritage too precious to be frittered away on wedge issue politics, or appeals to the worse angels of our nature. In the end, In God We Trust must always be accompanied by E Pluribus Unum -- from many, one. As we move toward that “more perfect Union” envisaged in the preamble to the Constitution, we must all go together, or our efforts to perfect the Union cannot succeed.
For we who were born here, the Stars and Stripes probably shadowed our birthplaces; for those who have come to America seeking a better life --- as most of our ancestors did -- those same Stars and Stripes gave inspiration for the voyage. And I expect that most of us hope, wherever we were born, that the Stars and Stripes may shadow of final resting places. For in the end, from many, we are, and must remain, one.
Of course, reading how Jefferson had gone back and deliberately substituted “citizen” for “subject,” naturally triggers some thoughts about our American experience, and about the difference between citizens and subjects, and how one single word can radically alter the dynamic between governor and governed.
Today, given that the United Kingdom is also one of the world’s great democracies, it may seem as if the difference between citizen and subject is essentially meaningless. Certainly, the “Liberties of the Subject” enjoyed by those owing allegiance to the British Crown are far more extensive than the often-disregarded “rights” theoretically enjoyed by the citizens of ostensibly democratic states. Better, in many cases, to be a subject of her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II than, say, a citizen of the Republic of Kyrgyzstan.
Nevertheless, the word “subject” still carries with it a whole series of feudal overtones and baggage. In the back of one’s mind, the word “subject” can still raise images of someone kneeling before a sovereign reciting the ancient formula “I am your liege man of life and limb,” as Charles, Prince of Wales, did before his mother the Queen, at his investiture at Caernarfon Castle in 1969.
On the other hand, the word “citizen” carries with it echoes of the world’s earliest democracies, of Athens and of the Roman Republic. Time was, as scriptural accounts of St. Paul’s experience before the Roman governor of Judea remind us, that the words “I am a Roman citizen,” carried enormous weight. For us, citizenship, rather than subjection, implies membership in what the authors of the Mayflower Compact of 1620 called “a Civil Body Politic,” in which the existence of the Commonwealth is not a function of royal command, but the conscious and deliberate act of a group of equals.
Because citizenship itself implies equality among individuals, the very concept of classes of citizenship has traditionally been regarded as repugnant. In a Republic, composed of citizens, equality before the law and equality of opportunity are integral to true citizenship and participation within the Commonwealth. Unless every citizen of a particular Commonwealth possesses authentic, first-class citizenship, we cannot say that any individual within such a Commonwealth is truly a citizen, but merely a subject to whom the sovereign or government --- as used to be the case in South Africa --- affords greater or lesser degrees of privilege at its own convenience and to serve its own ends.
Under such circumstances, where privilege and the ability to participate in the civic life of the body politic are dependent upon officially defined status, or where certain members within that body politic are officially interdicted from living in certain areas, engaging in certain professions, marrying certain other individuals, or are otherwise limited in their liberty, the society in question contains within itself the seeds of its own dissolution.
As America enters the 235th year of her independence, she stands challenged, as she always has been, to ensure that when any American speaks the words “I am an American citizen,” the speaker can do so in the sure and certain knowledge that he or she will not be circumscribed or limited in the exercise of that citizenship on the basis of any invidious distinction of race, religion, gender, sexual orientation, ethnicity, disability, or any other characteristic which is now, or has been, used to limit the liberty of the different. President John F. Kennedy once famously observed that “the rights of every man are diminished when the rights of one man are threatened.”
While Pres. Kennedy’s remarks were made in the context of a Cold War, and were directed toward our adversary in that conflict, they apply to us as well. None of us can claim first-class citizenship unless our neighbors are first-class citizens along with us. It was, perhaps ironically, Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams who expressed most aptly what is truly the American challenge: we must all learn what it means to be human alongside others. On this Independence Day, we must all learn what it means to be American alongside our fellows who may not look like us, live like us, love like us, work like us, worship like us, vote like us, or root for the same squad at the All-Star Game. (And yes, that means even Yankees and Red Sox fans.)
For when the sound and the fury are over, and the issues that transfixed us this week have been lost in the flurry of the next news cycle, what is left over is our common heritage as Americans, a heritage too precious to be frittered away on wedge issue politics, or appeals to the worse angels of our nature. In the end, In God We Trust must always be accompanied by E Pluribus Unum -- from many, one. As we move toward that “more perfect Union” envisaged in the preamble to the Constitution, we must all go together, or our efforts to perfect the Union cannot succeed.
For we who were born here, the Stars and Stripes probably shadowed our birthplaces; for those who have come to America seeking a better life --- as most of our ancestors did -- those same Stars and Stripes gave inspiration for the voyage. And I expect that most of us hope, wherever we were born, that the Stars and Stripes may shadow of final resting places. For in the end, from many, we are, and must remain, one.
-xxx-
Paul S. Marchand is an attorney who lives and works in Cathedral City, where he serves as a member of the City Council. The views expressed herein are his own, and not necessarily the views of the Municipal Corporation or the Redevelopment Agency
Saturday, January 30, 2010
APPRECIATIONS: Howard Zinn and J.D. Salinger
America and the world lost two extraordinary writers this week when Howard Zinn and J.D. Salinger slipped away from us at 87 and 91, respectively.
The signature works of both authors, Zinn’s A People's History of the United States and Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye, are still in print, and each has its own significant impact on American society.
As I look up at the bookshelf in my study, I can see the copy of Catcher in the Rye I’ve owned since high school -the gold on red Bantam edition; my copy is from the 47th printing, January, 1978. It’s frowsy, dog-eared, 33 years old this month, and as I take it town and open it, I can catch a whiff of that old-paperback aroma that takes me back to high school English classes.
If you happen to be a man, Catcher in the Rye is one of those books that stays with you, not necessarily because you might have enjoyed it, but because Salinger’s writing so brilliantly captured the existential weirdness of adolescent boyhood, that cusp-time between childhood and adult life. How many of us, in our teen years, didn’t, like Holden Caulfield, oscillate from moment to moment between mature, truly adult, insightfulness and the frivolous caprices of childhood?
And if Catcher in the Rye spoke as forcefully and directly as it did to so many of our own personal teenaged crises and anxieties, it was in no small measure because J.D. Salinger maintained a lifelong, steady, stalwart, sphinxlike silence about his work.
By doing so, and by never allowing it to be adapted for stage or screen during his lifetime, Salinger allowed all of us to project our own expectations and ideas onto the novel; each of us saw Holden Caulfield’s narrative independently. Perhaps that’s why Catcher in the Rye was such tough going for so many of us who read it in our teen years; Holden’s story was our own; it hit too close to home.
If J.D. Salinger’s work hit home for many of us because Holden Caulfield’s story was so often so much our own, Howard Zinn’s work, particularly his People’s History of the United States, hit home by reminding us of the crucial role in our history that we the people have played in shaping it.
Where Salinger was silent, Zinn regarded it as his duty to speak, right up to the very end. He was one of those voices that, even if one might take issue with some of his views, was part of the collective conscience of the commonwealth, working to keep the system honest.
While I took, and still take, issue with some of Zinn’s conclusions and implications, I appreciated and continue to appreciate the important corrective his work represents to the so-called “Great Man” view of history; for every George Washington at Valley Forge, there were hundreds of theretofore unsung, ordinary soldiers without whom the Revolutionary War could not have been won.
Zinn’s great achievement was to recognize the importance of their influence on our history, to chronicle it, and in so doing, to change the way history is taught, learned, and understood in this country. In one of his last interviews, Zinn described himself as hoping to be remembered as "somebody who gave people a feeling of hope and power that they didn't have before." (Http://www.commondreams.org/video/2010/01/29-2)
If our current historiography is more inclusive of the contribution of “ordinary Americans,” women, people of color, workers, and others whose stories were not often told, it is because Howard Zinn pointed the way, and in the years since, the work of historians on both sides of the political divide has reflected his influence and his insistence that the stories of the people be included in any retelling of our American narrative.
That emphasis on the popular dimension of our history has also helped inform my own commitment to public service. While I may not be in complete agreement with every one of Zinn’s views and ideas, I do agree that our history is one of people, not just “great men,” or “great women.”
History is made when “ordinary” people come forward as active participants in the life of the commonwealth, and in my service in Cathedral City, I have always kept before me the fundamental principle that my service is for the people, not for any special or private interest. For when all is said and done, and when the special interests have had their say and their day, and when they have gone off to do their next deal, we the people will still be here, and the commonwealth will still belong to all of us.
On that principle, Howard Zinn and I were in fundamental agreement; “People First” is, always has been, and always will be the basis of my service.
Paul S. Marchand is an attorney who lives and works in Cathedral City, where he serves as a member of the City Council. The views expressed herein are his own, and not necessarily the views of the Municipal Corporation or the Redevelopment Agency
A NOTE ON OUR PRESENTATION:
With this first post for 2010, we've gone to an easier-to-read presentation of black on white. We hope you'll find this an improvement.
The signature works of both authors, Zinn’s A People's History of the United States and Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye, are still in print, and each has its own significant impact on American society.
As I look up at the bookshelf in my study, I can see the copy of Catcher in the Rye I’ve owned since high school -the gold on red Bantam edition; my copy is from the 47th printing, January, 1978. It’s frowsy, dog-eared, 33 years old this month, and as I take it town and open it, I can catch a whiff of that old-paperback aroma that takes me back to high school English classes.
If you happen to be a man, Catcher in the Rye is one of those books that stays with you, not necessarily because you might have enjoyed it, but because Salinger’s writing so brilliantly captured the existential weirdness of adolescent boyhood, that cusp-time between childhood and adult life. How many of us, in our teen years, didn’t, like Holden Caulfield, oscillate from moment to moment between mature, truly adult, insightfulness and the frivolous caprices of childhood?
And if Catcher in the Rye spoke as forcefully and directly as it did to so many of our own personal teenaged crises and anxieties, it was in no small measure because J.D. Salinger maintained a lifelong, steady, stalwart, sphinxlike silence about his work.
By doing so, and by never allowing it to be adapted for stage or screen during his lifetime, Salinger allowed all of us to project our own expectations and ideas onto the novel; each of us saw Holden Caulfield’s narrative independently. Perhaps that’s why Catcher in the Rye was such tough going for so many of us who read it in our teen years; Holden’s story was our own; it hit too close to home.
If J.D. Salinger’s work hit home for many of us because Holden Caulfield’s story was so often so much our own, Howard Zinn’s work, particularly his People’s History of the United States, hit home by reminding us of the crucial role in our history that we the people have played in shaping it.
Where Salinger was silent, Zinn regarded it as his duty to speak, right up to the very end. He was one of those voices that, even if one might take issue with some of his views, was part of the collective conscience of the commonwealth, working to keep the system honest.
While I took, and still take, issue with some of Zinn’s conclusions and implications, I appreciated and continue to appreciate the important corrective his work represents to the so-called “Great Man” view of history; for every George Washington at Valley Forge, there were hundreds of theretofore unsung, ordinary soldiers without whom the Revolutionary War could not have been won.
Zinn’s great achievement was to recognize the importance of their influence on our history, to chronicle it, and in so doing, to change the way history is taught, learned, and understood in this country. In one of his last interviews, Zinn described himself as hoping to be remembered as "somebody who gave people a feeling of hope and power that they didn't have before." (Http://www.commondreams.org/video/2010/01/29-2)
If our current historiography is more inclusive of the contribution of “ordinary Americans,” women, people of color, workers, and others whose stories were not often told, it is because Howard Zinn pointed the way, and in the years since, the work of historians on both sides of the political divide has reflected his influence and his insistence that the stories of the people be included in any retelling of our American narrative.
That emphasis on the popular dimension of our history has also helped inform my own commitment to public service. While I may not be in complete agreement with every one of Zinn’s views and ideas, I do agree that our history is one of people, not just “great men,” or “great women.”
History is made when “ordinary” people come forward as active participants in the life of the commonwealth, and in my service in Cathedral City, I have always kept before me the fundamental principle that my service is for the people, not for any special or private interest. For when all is said and done, and when the special interests have had their say and their day, and when they have gone off to do their next deal, we the people will still be here, and the commonwealth will still belong to all of us.
On that principle, Howard Zinn and I were in fundamental agreement; “People First” is, always has been, and always will be the basis of my service.
-xxx-
Paul S. Marchand is an attorney who lives and works in Cathedral City, where he serves as a member of the City Council. The views expressed herein are his own, and not necessarily the views of the Municipal Corporation or the Redevelopment Agency
A NOTE ON OUR PRESENTATION:
With this first post for 2010, we've gone to an easier-to-read presentation of black on white. We hope you'll find this an improvement.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
ANOTHER BITE OUT OF THE ELEPHANT: Thoughts on the Mayoral Election in Houston.
And so it began yesterday.
First the tweets, then the e-mails, then the breathless coverage on the Internet and in the mainstream media.
An out lesbian had been elected Mayor of Houston.
That’s right; at the same time the local parliament in Uganda was debating making being gay a capital crime, Houston voters were electing Annise Parker -whom they had previously elected six consecutive times to public office- be their next chief executive.
Predictably, some in the opposition went bonkers.
Yet, Ms. Parker’s election reflects something almost extraordinary, particularly in so conservative a state as Texas.
The election itself was somewhat out of the ordinary, pitting an African American former City Attorney, Gene Locke, against an out lesbian. Not long ago, a mayoral election in almost any large Southern city (except perhaps Atlanta or Miami) would usually have involved a choice between white, well-heeled, straight, men. To that extent, Houston’s mayoral election -like the historic 2008 Presidential election- represents yet another example of the crumbling of barriers that had kept women and minorities from participating fully in the political life of the commonwealth.
Yet if we are rapidly moving toward a politics in which gender, race, and denominational religious affiliation are no longer seen as disqualifying, our progress is still incomplete. Too often, every step forward generates its own retrograde backlash, just as every threatened deviation from formerly accepted orthodoxies (or orthopraxy), calls forth what President Lyndon Johnson used to call “frontlash:” pre-emptive efforts to preserve a threatened status quo, particularly when it comes to maintaining the political dominance of heretofore privileged groups or preventing former “have-nots” from accessing the levers of political power.
Thus, while race, gender, and religion are increasingly seen as irrelevant to a candidate’s qualifications for office, there remains a stubborn insistence in some quarters that an LGBT person (or an atheist for that matter) should not hold public office. Such views certainly surfaced in Houston during the campaign as anti-GLBT activists and social conservatives sought to play the “queer card,” portraying Mayor-elect Parker’s sexual orientation as per se disqualifying.
Yet, as Ms. Parker herself noted, Houston voters had previously elected her to office six consecutive times, even knowing of her sexuality, which she never concealed.
Still, that opponents should have sought to play the “queer card” in the Houston mayoral campaign is still disappointing, but not surprising. Every effort by formerly marginalized or excluded groups to secure an authentic place at the table has been resisted, sometimes savagely, by those who already have their place there, and are disinclined to share make room for others who may not look, live, love, work, worship, or vote the same way. For political “have-nots,” achieving a place at the table is often a difficult, incremental process. To mix metaphors, it is like eating the elephant, one bite at a time.
Now to some, the election of an out lesbian as Mayor of Houston -or the designation of an out gay man to be the next speaker of the California Assembly (succeeding, by the way, the first African-American woman to hold that post)- is not, or should not be, news. To these people, sexuality, like race, gender, or religion, should not be an issue; none of these matters should be a factor in determining who is best qualified.
Yet, our society is still a long way from seeing things that way. Almost perversely, the election of America’s first African-American President has stirred up racial tensions and the election of an out lesbian in Houston will no doubt stir up similar tensions.
Here in the Desert, with its large and largely integrated gay and lesbian community, we have been fortunate in recent years to avoid some of the uglier manifestations of political homophobia; out LGBT people are regularly elected to serve on local city councils, and in large measure, our local politics and elections have been largely free of efforts to play the sexuality card. Ironically, many of the same people who oppose marriage equality and thus voted for Proposition 8 had no difficulty voting for an openly gay candidate in the very same election.
Nonetheless, social and political activists of every stripe often try to nationalize local issues and developments. Culture warriors, angered by what happened in Houston, may well transfer that anger to our Pleasant Desert, as they nationalized the Proposition 8 campaign last year. If that happens, the challenge won’t just be for incumbent LGBT officeholders and GLBT candidates to take lessons from Annise Parker’s successful campaign, but also for the residents of this Valley to send a resounding “NO” to outside culture warriors who may try to divide us against one another in the service of a divisive agenda most of us rejected when we came here to live, work, and play.
Paul S. Marchand is an attorney who lives and works (but rarely plays) in Cathedral City, where he serves in the City Council. The views expressed herein are his own, and not necessarily those of the City of Cathedral City or its Redevelopment Agency.
First the tweets, then the e-mails, then the breathless coverage on the Internet and in the mainstream media.
An out lesbian had been elected Mayor of Houston.
That’s right; at the same time the local parliament in Uganda was debating making being gay a capital crime, Houston voters were electing Annise Parker -whom they had previously elected six consecutive times to public office- be their next chief executive.
Predictably, some in the opposition went bonkers.
Yet, Ms. Parker’s election reflects something almost extraordinary, particularly in so conservative a state as Texas.
The election itself was somewhat out of the ordinary, pitting an African American former City Attorney, Gene Locke, against an out lesbian. Not long ago, a mayoral election in almost any large Southern city (except perhaps Atlanta or Miami) would usually have involved a choice between white, well-heeled, straight, men. To that extent, Houston’s mayoral election -like the historic 2008 Presidential election- represents yet another example of the crumbling of barriers that had kept women and minorities from participating fully in the political life of the commonwealth.
Yet if we are rapidly moving toward a politics in which gender, race, and denominational religious affiliation are no longer seen as disqualifying, our progress is still incomplete. Too often, every step forward generates its own retrograde backlash, just as every threatened deviation from formerly accepted orthodoxies (or orthopraxy), calls forth what President Lyndon Johnson used to call “frontlash:” pre-emptive efforts to preserve a threatened status quo, particularly when it comes to maintaining the political dominance of heretofore privileged groups or preventing former “have-nots” from accessing the levers of political power.
Thus, while race, gender, and religion are increasingly seen as irrelevant to a candidate’s qualifications for office, there remains a stubborn insistence in some quarters that an LGBT person (or an atheist for that matter) should not hold public office. Such views certainly surfaced in Houston during the campaign as anti-GLBT activists and social conservatives sought to play the “queer card,” portraying Mayor-elect Parker’s sexual orientation as per se disqualifying.
Yet, as Ms. Parker herself noted, Houston voters had previously elected her to office six consecutive times, even knowing of her sexuality, which she never concealed.
Still, that opponents should have sought to play the “queer card” in the Houston mayoral campaign is still disappointing, but not surprising. Every effort by formerly marginalized or excluded groups to secure an authentic place at the table has been resisted, sometimes savagely, by those who already have their place there, and are disinclined to share make room for others who may not look, live, love, work, worship, or vote the same way. For political “have-nots,” achieving a place at the table is often a difficult, incremental process. To mix metaphors, it is like eating the elephant, one bite at a time.
Now to some, the election of an out lesbian as Mayor of Houston -or the designation of an out gay man to be the next speaker of the California Assembly (succeeding, by the way, the first African-American woman to hold that post)- is not, or should not be, news. To these people, sexuality, like race, gender, or religion, should not be an issue; none of these matters should be a factor in determining who is best qualified.
Yet, our society is still a long way from seeing things that way. Almost perversely, the election of America’s first African-American President has stirred up racial tensions and the election of an out lesbian in Houston will no doubt stir up similar tensions.
Here in the Desert, with its large and largely integrated gay and lesbian community, we have been fortunate in recent years to avoid some of the uglier manifestations of political homophobia; out LGBT people are regularly elected to serve on local city councils, and in large measure, our local politics and elections have been largely free of efforts to play the sexuality card. Ironically, many of the same people who oppose marriage equality and thus voted for Proposition 8 had no difficulty voting for an openly gay candidate in the very same election.
Nonetheless, social and political activists of every stripe often try to nationalize local issues and developments. Culture warriors, angered by what happened in Houston, may well transfer that anger to our Pleasant Desert, as they nationalized the Proposition 8 campaign last year. If that happens, the challenge won’t just be for incumbent LGBT officeholders and GLBT candidates to take lessons from Annise Parker’s successful campaign, but also for the residents of this Valley to send a resounding “NO” to outside culture warriors who may try to divide us against one another in the service of a divisive agenda most of us rejected when we came here to live, work, and play.
-xxx-
Paul S. Marchand is an attorney who lives and works (but rarely plays) in Cathedral City, where he serves in the City Council. The views expressed herein are his own, and not necessarily those of the City of Cathedral City or its Redevelopment Agency.
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