Tag Archives: Donald Trump

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In Praise of Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion

This administration wanted us to be repelled by values that were honored just days before.

For decades I worked in a professional environment that placed a lot of faith in honoring the ideas of diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI). For most of my years in college teaching these were part of the catechism of values to make higher education available to as many students and faculty as possible. We wanted more diverse students to choose our program. And we knew in the 70s that more women should be part of the faculty. Living by these standards was not always easy, but evidence of progress was all around us: the positive symbolism of an African American President, a woman taking over as head of the country’s largest automobile maker, and a revolution in the number university presidents, deans and provosts with diverse backgrounds. All were proof that higher education and the managers of innovative groups  everywhere were no longer a monoculture.

Who knew that in a few more years that on January 20th of this year the nation would suddenly be asked to abandon these progressive ideals that made these changes possible, This administration wanted us to be repelled by values honored just days before, not to mention an iconic statue sitting in the harbor in front of Donald Trump’s hometown.

Now, this government is centered on white guys and a few women seemingly selected by Trump for their fashion-magazine looks. I can imagine storage rooms in corporations stacked floor to ceiling with unused copies of employee training materials with titles like Fostering Diversity in the Workplace or The Multicultural Corporation. Could the implicit racism of this destructive change be mitigated if we shifted the language to celebrate “differences,” “fair play” and “cultural variety?”

Positive values can reside in good people, even when their traditional signifiers have been stolen.

When I first heard the pronouncement against DEI–followed so far with the termination of 120,000 federal workers–I thought it was a joke: akin to banning positive expressions about Santa Claus, puppies, or landmark civil rights cases. But the negative reactivity of the new administration is deadly serious and spreading. We know we are on a slippery slope when politicians think they can take ownership of traditionally eulogistic words and simply redefine them as dyslogistic. The mistake of confusing words with thoughts is a fool’s idea of governing, resulting in governments like Florida’s, where language, curricula and books are already censored. Thankfully, positive values can reside in good people, even when their traditional signifiers have been stolen.

This all seems so dystopian and retro. It is no surprise that golf next to a golf cart is the president’s game, or that his wife stays mostly out of sight, or that his country club decorated in the gothic style of Sunset Boulevard (1950) is his preferred setting. Even the temporary co-president of Elon Musk with roots in white South Africa has become an ersatz Norma Desmond who no one wants to see. I expect a new Executive Order may yet come to affirm all of this patriarchy by making Old Spice the official national scent, along with a preferred diet of a sandwich of white meat with mayonnaise on white toast.

In spite of the abundance of pale rich guys milling around the White House, beyond Washington there is a more inclusive representation of talented folks who still sustain so many successful institutions of this country. Thankfully, Emma Lazarus quoted at the base of the Statue of Liberty never imagined that the nation would ‘Deport the tired, the poor, and the huddled masses yearning to breathe free.’

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The Recurring Ruptures of American Life

Our official origin story of a national melting pot is what many still express, but millions of citizens carry the scars of bigotry, racism, sexism and homophobia. It is an old story that still puts many Americans out of the picture.

Live long enough on the unsteady terrain of American civil affairs and it seems like the seismic upheavals are frequent and endless. Patterns of breakdown bump into other existential threats that vie for attention. Natural disasters overlay human ones, as in the devastation in the Los Angeles area. Just now, the most recent fissures are evident in racial ghosting, anti-WOKE conspiracies, federal dismemberment, and the takeover of national electoral politics by the super-rich. All feed contorted mutations of language that almost make the absurd seem plausible.

The nation’s material wealth may soften the experience of moving too fast over unstable ground. But the ground will still win, with many retreating into origin stories that mostly skirt the white-man tribalism that has surfaced yet again. The American skill for euphemism has meant that patterns of dominance and control have mostly been renamed out of existence. But The remnants of past ruptures lie around us in a visible topology. It is hard not to be drawn to the edge, where dreams of national destiny keep us focused on the horizon rather than what is at our feet. Our official origin story of a national melting pot is what many still express, but millions of citizens carry the scars of bigotry, racism, sexism and homophobia.

Rumbles from the unstable ground come often enough to keep our politics in a state of a perpetual suspicion, a thread that extends far back to skirmishes with the French in the 1750s, and the British in the 1770s. In the modern era the nation faced real threats of Nazi domination, as well as exaggerated fears of victimage at the hands of Soviet or Chinese communists. Active thoughts of conspiracy blend with recurring instances of literal and rhetorical assassinations that have easily been top of mind in the eras of Kennedy, Nixon, King, Reagan, the second Bush, and now, Trump’s dangerous delusions of a hostility everywhere.

Trump has turned almost every relationship with other states into a test of wills, energized by a laundry list of imagined slights that require retribution. This is most obvious in the hostile turn on Canada, whose public discourse has mostly escaped the shadows and fog thrown off by American political rhetoric. As is often noted, maybe Canadians profited from missing a searing national birth in a true revolution. They and most of us can’t fathom the demons that currently drive the economic vengeance of their neighbor.

The “national story” is full of too many cracks to be covered over in the “preferred narratives” we tell ourselves.

We think the long reach of time is in our favor, ignoring the warning of Henry Adams, who wrote in 1879 that history “must submit to the final and fundamental necessity Degradation.”

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This idea of decline is a continual theme in the work of one of the nation’s most important observers of our national life. In Slouching Toward Bethlehem (1968) Joan Didion, who passed away in 2021, refused to yield to the romance of 60s liberalism, with promises of a “counterculture” forging ahead in a new and less imperialistic nation. A writer of fiction and thoughtful books of observational reporting, the California native usually began with the trenchant principle that we tell each other stories “in order to live.” But her method always to included implicit caveat that narratives invite counternarratives. If most writers stayed in the center lanes of thought, Didion was the more dangerous observer willing to stay on the verges to get a better view of the abyss. Born in California and drawn to its fluid culture of Malibu as well as Goldwater libertarianism, Didion noticed the obvious decline of interpersonal connection that was beginning to favor atomized experience over collective action. Writing through the last quarter of the last century, she also saw a drift away from  institutional and personal distrust that advanced democracies needs to flourish. As biographer Tracy Daugherty noted, “Didion felt this historical decline in her bones. The “national story” was full of too many cracks to be covered over in the “preferred narratives” we tell ourselves. Now, even the wealthy want to report ‘exact representations of their own victimization’ to whomever will listen. Such talk of the otherness of strangers results in the popular idea that even affluent cities have been “ruined” by the poor or homeless.

Roughly half in our polarized society thought their abuse was caused by large government, while others have recognized the value of a federal role in knitting the nation together. She tended to side with the skeptics, using her voice in the literate style of the “new journalism.” In one memorable account of hippie parents in San Francisco’s Haight-Ashbury the preferred narrative might often the sentimental romance with the Age of Aquarius. Didion offered another memorable view, including an account of a five-year-old in a squalid apartment hooked on LSD.

Reading Didion’s work in the 80s led many of us to conclude that her reporting about a fake national dream seemed too dark for the times. We wanted to see the pleasant glow, but we missed the fire. She was not distracted to and recorded the relentless and cyclical collapse of national intentions in Cuba, Vietnam, Laos, Panama and elsewhere. Halting steps toward the leveling of opportunity was always the best part of the American project. But gains were offset by the trauma and eventual numbness from the spate of assassinations, violent crime, school shootings, and racial tensions even in seemingly progressive cities. These fissures in American life seemed beyond what was possible with our incrementalist politics. With a few exceptions, like Lyndon’s Johnson’s Great Society programs in the early 1960s, it seems clear that otherwise limited horizons and an ossifying culture would make little headway in smoothing these kinds of fault lines.  As Didion once noted, “The center will not hold.”

Our constitution blocks the timelier self-corrections that can happen in parliamentary systems. Squint a little and an independent executive and Congress in one month can easily look like a politburo and an oligarch in the next. Until the election of Trump, the nation had not faced so committed a chaos agent, and one from a blue state. The election caught us looking in the wrong direction, guessing that our largest existential rupture would come at the hands of a dominant southern Congress.