Goodbye to Texas?

 

There’s a song called, “Leavin’ Old Texas.” The cowboy/singer laments that they’ve roped and fenced the cattle range, “and the people there are all so strange.” Well, it’s true—the open range is fenced, the mythic days of the cowboy are gone, and some of the people in Texas are purely strange now.

But when a writer friend posted on Facebook that she didn’t understand why anyone would live in Texas and not leave, let alone move there, I jumped to our state’s defense. Possibly she was referring to the strict abortion restrictions, so much in the news with the Kate Cox case recently. Or maybe she meant the absence of gun control—no training, no screening, no license. Want to carry a concealed gun? Be our guest. Or perhaps it’s the troubles at the border with record number of illegal immigrants last month. Maybe it’s the restrictions on what can be taught in classrooms, from kindergarten through college—don’t even think of mentioning DEI, which is now outlawed. (How you can outlaw an abstract concept is beyond me, but Gov. Greg Abbott has managed it.) Maybe she meant book bans—we lead the nation in the number of titles marked for “consideration” or actually banned. There are many reasons to leave Texas for states, even countries, where there is more personal freedom and you are not forced to accept the state doctrine. (Does that echo of Nazi days? The state doctrine? Yes, it does).

I haven’t seen statistics on how many people leave Texas because of our extreme right-wing politics, but I know from personal experience—friends who have thrown their hands up in the air and said, “I’m through. I’m leaving.” Often they are couples of child-bearing age. And new corporations? Again, I don’t know statistics, but I have heard of companies that refuse to relocate here—despite our attractive tax laws and other incentives—because employees with families would not follow along.

I credit Texas’ disastrous reputation to Governor Greg Abbott, Lt. Gov. Dan Patrick, and Attorney General Ken Paxton. I’m not sure what fascination these men hold for Texans, except perhaps the habit of voting Republican and a blind, inbred of fear of Democrats that makes it hard to pull any lever, mark any ballot except the red one. Why would you ever vote for a man who puts razor wire in a river to injure and kill people? Or who sent poorly dressed, hungry migrants by bus across the country to a northern city where no provisions have been made for their unannounced arrival? If you live in a small town or rural area, why vote for a man who desperately wants to close the school that is the center of your community? It makes no sense.

But I digress. When I read that post, angry as I am at our state government, I immediately felt defensive, compelled to leap to the defense of Texas. I am not a native Texan, but I have lived here almost sixty years, and my two careers—as an author and as a publisher—have relied heavily on the history and literataure of this state. I feel invested in it, and I’ll be darned if a mean little man like Abbott is going to ruin Texas for me and my family.

There’s so much to treasure about our state, politics aside. We have, I suspect, the most varied landscape in the 50 states. In Texas, you can go from beach to mountains, from the stark, spare country of South Texas to the lush high plains. We have forests and pastures and rolling hills and vast expanses of empty land. Texans value their history—okay, we now pretty much agree much of the Alamo legend is in large part myth, but there’s still valuable history in the basic story. And in Sam Houston’s Runaway Scape and defeat of Santa Anna’s troops at San Jacinto. There’s history in the early cattle drives and the gradual shift from an agrarian to an urban economy in too much of the state. We have a proud and strong literary tradition, with writers who chronicled Texas history and wrote their own versions of it, from J. Frank Dobie and his pals to Larry McMurtry, Cormac McCarthy, and Elmer Kelton. Women writers too—Sarah Bird and Sandra Cisneros come to mind. Dr. Ron Tyler has given us several books documenting important artists of our state. Texas food, once mocked as brown food, can compete with upscale servings across the country. We have James Beard award-winning chefs and upscale restaurants with offerings for the sophisticated palate. We also have Tex-Mex, chili, barbecue, and down-home food.

Enough singing the praises of the state I love. My point is Texas is too wonderful to abandon to the narrow minds of right-wing politics. I am not leaving. Greg Abbott was not always governor and will not always be. I will stay to fight his inhumane policies, joining such groups as Mothers Against Greg Abbot, the Texas Democratic Party, and Beto O’Rourke’s Power to the People and speaking out whenever I feel the need. Texas needs to regain its proud reputation, and I want to help. How about you?                               

 

Preaching to the choir

 

The picture with this post is for the algorithms but also because it was such a pretty plate—slow roasted salmon, marinated cucumber and sweet onion, and fruit salad with lime, lime zest, and just a tiny bit of sugar. But it has nothing to do with the activist hat I have on tonight.

I got caught up today on a long anti-abortion thread, mostly because I am almost incapable of letting outright lies go unchallenged. This one was full of statements that there is never any medical reason for abortion, and many doctors say there is never a reason to kill the baby. These statements were followed by a long string of one-word posts: “Absolutely!” along with a few about murderers, and no abortions ever, and the like.

One rude gentleman offered to sell me swamp land, but I happened onto a woman who seemed sincere in her belief and a bit puzzled. What I discovered, exchanging messages with her, is that these are the folks who didn’t pay attention in high school biology. They seem to think doctors abort a perfect baby and stand there debating: “Should we kill this one or not?” Also they seem to think that all nine months this perfectly formed baby is in the womb. They have no idea about fetal development, fetal abnormalities, fetal death in utero, even complications that threaten the mother’s health. And I suspect they don’t want to know.

I am no medical expert, but for probably the first twenty years of my working life I worked it was in hospitals and medical schools. I am a doctor’s daughter, sister, ex-wife, aunt, and niece. I learned as they say just enough about medicine to be dangerous. But I know when someone says to me, “Many doctors say there is never a reason to kill a baby,” there aren’t many doctors and the person posting may have read that once, somewhere, on an anti-abortion post.

In another post on that site I explained that I am not pro-abortion. As an adoptive parent who could not produce babies, I think birth is a miracle. And I’m grateful that none of the girls in my family ever thought of abortion—how did they suddenly get so old they are beyond that stage? At any rate, I am not pro-abortion. I believe as many do that the decision is between a woman, her doctor, her partner, and perhaps the god of her faith.

But I am passionately opposed to Draconian laws passed by old white men with no medical knowledge that prevent pregnant women from getting adequate medical care. Today several plaintiffs are suing the State of Texas. Some were near death before being given medical care, and several have lasting effects that may prevent future successful pregnancies. You can read their heartbreaking stories here:  Women suing Texas over abortion bans give emotional testimony - ABC News (go.com)

I simply do not understand the reasoning behind making a woman carry a nonviable fetus to term at grave risk to herself. If you read the article, you will read of a woman whose fetus had encephaly (undeveloped skull and brain) but she was forced to carry the baby to term and watch it die in agony. How does that fit with the Christian principles that extremists espouse? Frankly, I’m horrified.

I also don’t understand how protestors can quote the sixth commandment— “Thou shall not kill”—but are willing to let a pregnant woman die. I suggested to one woman she read the Torah. Actually I have no idea if this is in the Torah or not, but I do know that Jewish law always placed the life of the mother first. The fetus comes into the world as Freud’s blank tablet, if you will, but the woman has a fully developed life, people who love her and whom she loves. Possibly she has other children who depend on her. She may make important contributions to society. She has her place in the world.There is not an equal equation there.

If there’s a glimmer of hope, this is it: education. Instead of confronting anti-abortionists, each of us somewhere along the line probably has a chance to educate. Maybe just a sentence or two, calmy delivered. I think we’re obligated to do that. It’s no longer good enough to say, “I didn’t want to be rude,” or “I don’t like confrontation.” We have been silent too long.

Rant over. Thanks for listening.

Judy’s list

 

The red, white, and blue.
May it proudly wave over freedom for ages to come.

I am about to rant, so if you want to skip this post, please feel free. As a graduate and former staff member at TCU, a private university, I was dismayed to read that right-wing sources are attacking the university for a class on the history of drag. Texas has passed a censorship law forbidding such topics in public schools (likely unconstitutional), but extremists want to go beyond that. The issue speaks to me of the culture problems in our society.

In a world that is warming so rapidly scientists are alarmed (and Texans are hot!), in a country that averages more than one mass shooting a day, where women are dying because proper gynecological medical care is denied them, politicians and influencers are focused on banning books and outlawing drag shows, silencing drag queens who do a public service by reading to children, muzzing teachers who might teach CRT (which they don’t and nobody understands). Could we please get our priorities straight?

I don’t think it’s enough to urge people to vote blue. Clearly, candidates like Ron DeSantis and Donald Trump not only a march toward authoritarian rule, where our voices would be silnced, but represent the opposite of the traditional Republican Party. Instead of small government and fiscal conservatism, they are reaching into all areas of our private lives, their intrusion cloaked in the name of morality and justified by distorted references to Christianity (which is NOT the founding religion of our country—sorry Josh Hawley!). Fiscal conservatism has turned into conserving money for the very rich and letting middle- and lower-class families be damned to poverty.

Democracy is a participatory form of government. We are told every voice counts. Conventional wisdom suggests that if eligible Texan voted, we could turn Texas blue and get rid of Greg Abbott, the mean little despot. Or take the Colorado district where Lauren Boebbert won by less than 500 votes and is again being challenged by Adam Frisch—that race proves that each vote counts. So I am more than weary of my friends, educated and liberal, who can’t be bothered with politics. Their excuses include, “I’m not interested,” or “It makes me uncomfortable” or “I have better things to do than keep up.” None of these, to me, hold water.

Here's what you can and should do: 1) Write to your representatives—local, state, and federal. Concerned about the ban on gender medical care? Let officials know, even if you feel like a voice crying in the wilderness. 2) be active in campaigning for candidates you support—walk the block if you are able, man a telephone bank, hold small group meet-ups in your home—be active; 3) attend open meetings, candidate fund raisers (you can attend without giving a hundred dollars), and sessions of the political party of your choice; 4) support candidates financially.

If I were a rich man (hat tip to Tevye), I’d give a thousand dollars right away to several candidates now in the running, mostly for the US Senate. As it is, I send much smaller amounts here and there when a candidate says or does something that catches my eye. I have a list of those I support: Jacky Rosen of Nevada, Jon Tester of Montana, Colin Allred of Texas, Bob Casey of Pennsylvania, Sherrod Brown of Ohio, Ruben Gallego of Arizona. I support both Katie Porter and Adam Schiff and am dismayed that they are running against each other—we need both in our national government, because they are experts on widely differing issues.

I could rant on about why I support President Biden and Bidenomics and the many things that are wrong with the fearmongers and moral police of the right, but you can read that daily in the paper and on social media. Later, I may write about my feelings as an author about book censorship or my feelings as a woman and an adoptive  mother about abortion, but today my plea is please, please don’t be passive. Take part in your government, make your voice heard.

Rant over—but probably only temporarily.

Saving the children

 

Last week I wanted to refer to a comment that a friend had made on one of my blog posts. This meant scrolling through recent posts until I found the right one. It was an educational experience. Seeing my blogs as a whole, I realized my voice was—there’s no other word for it—shrill! Granted, most of what I post is shared material, not my own writing. But it’s still shrill and angry and not peace-making.

An old friend told me long ago that because she’s such an activist, she makes sure to post about her grands, her garden, her dogs and cats, so that people will know that there’s a warm, fuzzy side to her. Except for food-related posts, I have fallen down on that end of blogging.

Shrill is what men criticize about women in public affairs or politics when what they really want to say is, “Shut up, sit down, and tend to your knitting. Let us men handle the affairs of the world.” I surely don’t agree with that attitude, but I don’t want to be known as a shrill female. Thoughtful, insightful, concerned—yes, all of those things. But shrill? No. I resolved to change my tone, perhaps post less often.

And then Nashville happened. How can any of us remain silent in the face of this recurring butchery of our children? I remembered back in the sixties, before Roe v. Wade, when we were encouraged to vote a one-issue ballot: if a candidate was for women’s rights to their bodies, we should vote for them; if not, nada. It didn’t matter what a candidate’s stance was on any other issue—the decision was made on the basis of the attitude toward abortion.

I am feeling that way again today. Two issues will determine my vote: gun control and abortion. I will not now or ever vote for anyone who opposes reform for those two issues. Yes, I know that saving the climate is crucial and immediate, and voter suppression is a problem, and yeah, I’d vote against any Republican who wants to withdraw support for Ukraine because that says to me they have no understanding of international relationships and do not deserve to hold public office. But those problems are not of immediate concern to me; the lives of children take precedence.

I was still mulling over my shrill voice when I attended church (via LiveStream) Sunday. Russ Peterman’s powerful sermon was about the school shootings. Pointing out that the leading cause of death in school children in this country is violence (and we are the only country for which that is true), he suggested that we are failing our children, failing our responsibility to keep them safe. Oh, some would have us keep them safe from drag queens and books that might enlighten them about our LGBTQ neighbors or the drag queen who reads stories to them, but not safe to live.

A meme on Facebook this week has a seven-year-old telling his mom he doesn’t want to go to school. “Why not?” she asks, and he responds, “I’d rather be dumb than dead.” Think of that. Let it soak in.

Admitting that the solution to gun control is complicated, Dr. Peterman pointed out that we have solved much more complicated problems. My thought was, “Yes, we are about to put men (and a woman) on the moon again, after fifty years.” But we cannot keep our children safe. I sent my kids off to elementary school in the late seventies and eighties—I cannot imagine how I would have felt if there was the slightest possibility of one of them being shot at school.

Dr. Peterman talked about compromise, with both sides trying to see the other side. For me, that’s so hard as to be impossible. When someone writes they will pry his AR-whatever out of his “died hands,” I know what kind of enemy I’m facing. When a Tennessee representative dismisses the whole things with, “We aren’t going to change it,” I know the enemy. I am beyond tired of people who don’t want to get involved or who withdraw for some peace—there is no peace, ever, for parents who lose their children in a shooting. And there is no reason we cannot ban military weapons in the hands of civilians. When Clinton did it, shooting deaths declined dramatically.

So watch for me to continue to be shrill, because I cannot in good conscience not speak out. If you want to tune me out, so be it. Dr. Peterman quoted someone who said, “Our faith does not  allow us to remain silent behind stained glass.” Either you  put your faith to work daily, or you are a Sunday believer.

Fittingly, our church service ended with the singing of “Tell Me the Stories of Jesus.” Jesus, be he prophet or teacher or divine god, loved the little children. How about you?

An apologia: this post is couched in the terms and traditions of Christianity, because that is the faith I know. I recognize that not all of my friends nor all of my readers are necessarily Christian but I am sure the beliefs herein can be adapted to your faith.

Where do we go from here?

 

Is Texas really a political lost cause?

That’s the question a lot of Texas Democrats are asking after yesterday’s midterms. Nationally, the picture was not all bad, as everyone knows by today—may not have been a blue wave, but it was definitely not a red wave, and Democrats scored some significant, unexpected victories while Donald trump, as titular head of the Republican Party, saw some of his special candidates go down in flames.

But in Texas, it was the same old, same old. Abbott, Patrick, and Paxton, that triumvirate of evil, sailed easily into re-election, a bitter defeat for the many of us who backed Beto and his vision of a better Texas. Beto had a firm grasp of the problems facing Texas and offered solutions—school shootings, failure of the grid, the desperation of women with difficult pregnancies. In eight years, Abbott has solved no problems but created new ones or turned a blind eye to existing ones. We believed in Beto—still do. And most of us believe it’s criminal that Paxton, under indictment for seven years, was re-elected. Patrick? Who could approve of the man who spouts such callous ideas as bathroom monitors to detect LGBTQ kids. Patrick, who claims Christianity, has a heart full of hate.

But here we are—stuck with them for another four years, and with a lot of down-ballot sycophants. What’s next? I read today that Beto says he’s in this fight for a lifetime, and I’ve read several members of Mothers Against Greg Abbott swearing to continue that group and its mission. But in the depths of last night I thought of a new, probably unworkable plan.

Instead of an all-out assault or objection, how about negotiation? I don’t know who would represent us, but it seems to me we need immediate relief on two issues. And Abbott is apparently the man who has that power.

The first is the abortion clause which permits the procedure to save a woman’s life. Who’s making that decision? Far as I can tell, it’s politicians and not physicians. I’ve read several horrendous stories of women at death’s door who had to be transported to another state because of an ectopic pregnancy, a nonviable fetus, any one of many things that can go wrong in a pregnancy. In the case of a poor woman without resources, she’s likely to die. Why not review those standards and treat these women before their cases become so desperate. Why put them through a near-death experience when it’s clear that a living or life-sustaining fetus will not emerge? Or that the fetus will be so deformed that it will suffer in the hours or days before its death. Is cruelty the point? Punishing women? Legislators frequently reveal their absolute lack of knowledge about women’s bodies and/or pregnancy—and yet they are making those decisions, setting those standards.

Would Abbott, if approached right, create a panel of physicians who would set some reasonable guidelines instead of the Draconian approach taken today in which doctors know the procedure is needed but are afraid to perform it for fear of the consequences. In God’s name, what kind of society have we become? It has too many similarities, to me, to the burning of witches in New England.

The other area that simply can’t wait four more years is the danger of school shootings. We have kids throughout the state who are terrified to go to school. That’s hardly conducive to learning. Children’s gun deaths have doubled under Abbott, and Texas now has the distinction of the highest number of children killed by gunfire of any state. (As I write those words, I am appalled at how awful that is!) Abbott is a gun aficionado, and he does what we all hope people will not do—imposes his personal beliefs on the entire state. He’ll never sign on to a ban on assault weapons, which was one of Beto’s goals—and maybe a rash remark several years ago that sealed his doom.

But how about stricter controls on assault weapons. It is beyond belief that the  Uvalde shooter, eighteen years old, could buy an assault weapon with no training, no background check. What’s more important, protecting the freedom and rights of a deranged teenager or saving nineteen school children? Law officers generally want more control on the sale of weapons. Why not have a panel of law officers draw up guidelines for preventing these guns from getting into dangerous hands. Personally I think the age limit should be, maybe fifty, but that’s me. There should be rigorous background checks, extensive training emphasizing the killing power of these weapons. Counseling for those who express generalized anger of hostility during the process. We have the knowledge and ability to weed out potentially dangerous people. We’re just not doing it.

Governor Abbott is not a man known for his empathy. He was, as we all know, badly crippled in a freak accident. Instead of making him more empathetic, that accident somehow made him determined that no one else would get the benefit of the large monetary settlement he got. So I don’t know that an appeal to his better sense would work, but if there was strong enough support in the state …. Law enforcement, churches, legislators, parents of school-age children? There are many blocs of people who would enthusiastically support stricter controls, if there were an organized movement.

Or just call me Pollyanna.

Thoughts on pregnancy and motherhood

 

My family, albeit thirteen years ago.
Those babies are teens and older now.

It’s late, and I am tired. I was not going to post on my blog tonight because it’s been a long day. Long, but a good day. I actually began to come to grips with my new project—a biography of Helen Corbitt, doyenne of food service at Neiman Marcus. I hope to fit her into the dramatically changing foodways of America in the fifties and sixties, the years she was at Neiman’s. But writing such stuff is slow and hard going, and my brain is tired.

So, tonight I read a bit on a novel I’m currently intrigued by—more about that another time—and I scrolled through Facebook, partly because you can do that without truly engaging your brain, but also because I want to read everything I can about the decisions coming out of our rogue SCOTUS. I am alarmed that they dismissed charges against two physicians convicted of pushing opioids, that they upheld a coach’s right to pray at the sidelines in a decision which is being widely heralded as giving teachers the right to encourage students (Christian, of course) to pray in class, that the court will probably issue a decision limiting the EPA’s power to enforce environmental protections on the states. Are they rushing—for they do seem in a hurry—to destroy every facet of American life? Rumors are rife that they will next take on contraception and gay marriage. And of course, somewhere along the line, I’m sure they will enforce book banning and governmental dictation of school curriculum? Slavery? No, no, you can’t teach about that. The Greenwood Massacre? Never mention it.

But the abortion ruling is much on my mind. I have thought about what I have to contribute to the discussion, and I don’t know that it’s that much. But here I go. I am pro-life in that I am opposed to abortion, but I firmly believe that’s me, and I do not have the right to force that opinion on anyone else, not even my daughters. When I married, I had never given any thought to whether I would have children. But my then-husband, a physician, desperately wanted babies. After five years of marriage, endless tests, and more than a few embarrassing moments—the hospital nurses who asked, “When are you two going to put a baby in our nursery?”—it was clear that I wasn’t going to conceive. One completely unexpected miscarriage sealed that conclusion. I had been given fertility drugs, and I have always thought since that God knew what he was doing. That fetus was not meant to come into this world. But that experience speaks to me as I read of women accused of infanticide because they miscarried. And it also left me with the profound belief that being able to carry a pregnancy to term and deliver a healthy baby was a gift from God.

We adopted—four beautiful children. I, the one who wasn’t sure about parenthood, turned out to be the parent. My husband moved on, out of the marriage, and I, more than a little frightened, raised four babies by myself, from the time they were ages twelve to six. Today, they are four wonderful adults—good gravy, can you believe three of the four have passed fifty? They make me proud every day, they have given me seven beautiful grandchildren, and we are a huge, rowdy happy family.

If one of those girls—my two daughters and my two in-law daughters—had ever wanted to abort a pregnancy, barring a severe threat to their health, I would have been heartbroken. But I would have kept that to myself, and that never happened. We all rejoiced in the arrival of every baby. I often think that we live a life of privilege—and I sometimes ask God “Why me?” because I know the circumstances of my life could be so much harder. But we were blessed—each of my four were able to provide for their babies without hardship (yeah, there was a bit of careful budgeting early on) and they have been able to give their children comfortable and happy childhoods. (Ask me about family get-togethers sometime.)

So that’s where I am: pro-life and opposed to what I might call casual abortion, but a firm advocate of abortion in cases of rape, incest, danger to the mother, or a severely deformed infant. And an advocate of every woman's right of sovereignty over her own body. What I find frightening in the states’ trigger laws that the Dobbs decision enacted is the inflexibility, that “one size fits all” mentality, the refusal to listen to medical science but instead to follow what passes for scriptural law.

If anti-abortionists want to follow God’s word, they need to realize that the Talmud, that source of Jewish wisdom, advocates abortion in the case of the mother’s health. And the Bible, the ultimate source for so many Christians, never mentions it. What the Christian Bible emphasizes is love.

Whether saving babies or keeping women out of power is the real purpose is another subject for another time. But I am a worried woman tonight.

Food, nostalgia, a new word, and a book about Chicago--or is it about girls and women?

Not to brag, but I just had the best dinner! It’s been a day when Sophie and I were out here alone—no visitors, no human contact except by phone and computer. Jordan breezed in for two minutes, so frustrated with her busy business that she breezed right out again. But dinner made up for it. A piece of salmon filet with chimichurri sauce, a boiled potato with lots of plant-based butter, and a green salad. Chimichurri is my new favorite thing. When we went out to supper Saturday, I had salmon with chimichurri (no, I’ll not tire of it) and came home with a small container which goes a long way. I roasted the salmon with salt, pepper, and olive oil. And not too long in the oven—I love the glass door in my new toaster oven, because I could see the salmon lighten as it cooked.

This is a nostalgia day for me. Fifty-eight years ago, I married one Joel Alter. Some good came of it—four wonderful kids and a liking for Jewish food. Beyond that, it was pretty much a wash. From my point of view, we were happy for fifteen years, and then miserable for two after he went crazy. Were he still walking this earth, I’m sure he’d have a different tale to tell.

More significant now to me is that eleven years ago today, Megan, Colin, and I were in Edinburgh, the start of our wonderful week-long exploration of Scotland. It was a trip that will forever be one of my best memories. I’d love to go back to Scotland, but since that seems unlikely, I cling to these memories. The picture is Megan and me at Edinburgh Castle.

One more bit of nostalgia: I watched an interesting program tonight, an interview with Dawn Turner, author of Three Girls from Bronzeville: A Uniquely American Memoir of Race, Fate, and Sisterhood. Bronzeville, a neighborhood on Chicago’s South Side, was in my childhood a Black neighborhood. Growing up in Kenwood at 51^st Street, I knew 47^th Street was the dividing line, but I never heard the name Bronzeville. When I was very young my family attended St. James Methodist Church at 4611 S. Ellis, clearly in Bronzeville and not Kenwood. (Today the church is being converted into apartments and community work space—nice to see the very traditional limestone building being preserved.) The program tonight was interesting, but whereas Turner talked about the universality of her growing up experience (her best friend and her sister had much more difficult adulthoods than she, a respected and successful journalist), I wanted to hear specifics about those two adjacent neighborhoods. In my young years I thought 47^th Street was a gulf as wide as a moat, and I wanted to know how that affected her because I know how it affected me. She touched lightly on it but not in depth. Still, the book goes on my TBR list.

My new word for the day: hegemonic masculinity. (Okay, it’s two words.) It means a society dominated by men. I ran across it online today but thought it so appropriate when old white men (and one young white woman) are trying to tell women what to do with their bodies. Like the majority of Americans, I continue to be distressed about Justice Alito’s draft, with all the holes in its logic and support and the utter lack of medical knowledge or consideration. But I read an encouraging post today from Wendy Davis—remember her? Thirteen-hour filibuster in the Texas legislature against an anti-abortion bill which was later passed anyway. Davis has not given up the fight, and she wrote that there is a way to win if control goes to the states. I’m not sure I have this right, and now I can’t find the reference—but there is a way. It has to do with amending the state constitution so that the decision will be in the hands of voters at the ballot box, rather than the state legislature. It’s early days yet, but there is a movement to that effect in several states (Michigan for one, I believe) and we must be alert here in Texas for the first opportunity to work toward that goal. We’re fortunate to have Davis to guide us.

Monday, and a whole week ahead. So far I seem to be lazing through it. Hope it’s a good one for you.

My Thoughts on the War Against Women

            The internet chronicles so much anger and indignation over what’s going on in legislatures in Georgia and Ohio, Mississippi and Alabama—and throw in Texas where one faction wants to rescind the rape exemption for abortion. It seems redundant of me to want to chime in, but I am so outraged that I cannot keep quiet.

I come at this topic from the perspective of an infertile woman who thinks the ability to bear a child is one of the greatest gifts God can give anyone. My feelings about that are only overcome by my unshakeable belief that every woman should have control over her own body, and what another woman decides is none of my damn business. I am grateful that none of the four girls in my family ever put that attitude to a test.

If you study this issue online—and I would urge you to—you know the arguments behind women’s outrage. Man are acting as gynecologists and assuming an expertise they don’t have; they’re obsessed with punishing women for tempting them (a bit puritanical and certainly misogynistic—though they never admit it); they accuse woman of heinous acts without knowing the emotional trauma that accompanies a miscarriage, a late-pregnancy fetal death, a stillbirth; and there’s the classic argument that once the baby is born the state abandons both it and the mother. Look for instance at the statistics about children in Georgia. Finally, there are so many contradictions and such illogic about the presence of a heartbeat, the way men would have us treat a fetus with a heartbeat as opposed to laws governing the treatment of a brain-dead individual with a heartbeat.

Sunday, for Mother’s Day, our senior minister preached on the strong women of the Bible and the value of women. I applauded his message, but it made me sad when so much is being done in our nation to undermine women’s roles. When I said the war on woman contradicts the love that Christ preached, someone said to me, “I don’t know. Abortion is not a loving act.” That in-the-box, traditional, conservative thinking drives me wild.

Very few if any women use abortion as a form of birth control. Nor do they wake up one day in their fifth month and decide willy-nilly they don’t want to be pregnant after all. Abortion is not a whim like going to get your hair cut. When I was a teenager, abortion was too often illegal, dangerous, and fatal to the mother—and it was done for reasons of “saving face.” Today that reason no longer exists—having a child out of wedlock is not a scandal to most people. Today, abortion is often an act of desperation—to save a mother’s life, to terminate a nonviable pregnancy, to spare a badly damaged fetus a life of pain and suffering. I don’t know statistics, but I am convinced that for most women miscarriage or abortion are emotional traumas that they carry with them for life. You never completely recover. And instead of showing Christian love and compassion, men want to punish.

For what? For being human? For being a woman? That they dare to couple their draconian measures with Christianity is, for me, the ultimate outrage.

I don’t personally believe in hell, but I do believe in karma. My concern is for the women who will suffer today and tomorrow while we wait for what goes ‘round to come ‘round. I think the least any of us can do is vote to retire old white men who have been in power too long and elect men and women of compassion and common sense.

Texas’ changeable weather, inflexible politics

You know that old saying—“If you don’t like the weather in Texas, wait a minute.” It’s proving true this week. Yesterday was bitter cold and gray, with sudden gusts of really cold wind. Not worth going out in, except that I went out for lunch and had a hearty Frito pie. But mostly I cowered in my cottage, a sweater over my shoulder, a prayer shawl over my knees—suddenly an old lady.

The trees are budding out. Indeed some are in bloom, and I worry about frost killing the blossoms. When friend Mary came for happy hour tonight, she brought a lovely bouquet of daffodils and hyacinth from her garden--she was afraid they wouldn't survive the frost and so picked them. They're a joy for me, but now she won't get to enjoy them in her garden for a longer stretch of time.

My Canadian daughter blew in for a glass of wine, complaining vociferously about the cold. When I said she of all people should be used to it, she said, “I don’t do that anymore.” When Sophie wanted to go out, I left the door open a crack so she could come back in. Sue closed it tight, saying, “I’m so cold.” Sophie stood outside the door and looked puzzled, but it’s a quirk of her personality that if you open the door and urge her to come in, she looks at you like “Really?” Now if you urge her with a piece of cheese in your hand, it’s an entirely different matter. “She’s spoiled rotten,” Sue declared, as though that was news to either of us.

Today was an improvement of sorts in the weather—deceptive bright sunshine and air that did warm up but is rapidly cooling now that the sun is disappearing. By Saturday the temperature will be in the seventies, though it will drop ten degrees or so the next week. And can you believe that daylight saving is already coming back this weekend? I am one of those who would welcome year-round daylight savings, so I’m happy about that. But I always am fearful I will set the clocks the wrong way, and I keep saying to myself, “Spring forward, Fall back.” Hope I’m right.

My lunch plan for today cancelled, and I stayed home to eat delicious leftovers—a Greek potato and chicken dish with lots of lemon and oregano. One of those dishes that is better the second or third day. Tonight: a big old baked potato. Mary has already come and gone for our Tuesday happy hour, rushing off to the TCU women’s basketball game.

Texas weather may be changeable, but Texas politics are all too predictable. I am discouraged to learn that fifty-seven legislators are backing a draconian bill that would outlaw therapeutic abortion after six weeks—before most women even know they’re pregnant. And of those fifty-seven legislators, fifty-four are men who cannot possibly understand the complexities of pregnancy, the heartbreak of a fetus that will not survive outside the womb. It’s an obvious conclusion to me that decisions about difficult pregnancies need to be between a woman and her doctor, not dictated by a bunch of men in suits.

A thread about this, on my wall, brought an eloquent response from author Clay Reynolds, with a good discussion of the varying beliefs about when life begins. Read it if you can find it.

The cling-to-the-past politics of Texas sadden me. I hope we can elect officials and legislators with a more compassionate and humane approach in 2020. Meantime, stay warm—cold again tonight.

A return to the coat-hanger era?

With the elevation of Brett Kavanaugh to a seat on SCOTUS, many are worried about the possible overturn of Roe vs. Wade. Such a move would rob women of control over their own bodies—and their lives.

Before Roe vs. Wade, desperate women often had what were called back-alley abortions, procedures performed by some unlicensed, probably unqualified practitioner. Other women induced their own abortions by using coat hangers. Too many died of sepsis (overwhelming infection) and other traumas.

So it was entirely inappropriate when a Republican legislator (sorry, can’t remember if he was state or Federal) made a joke (he thought) by saying, “Get your coat hangers ready, ladies!” It was a tacit admission that the only thing that will change about abortion is the safe treatment of women.

I well remember the era before Roe vs. Wade—and one specific incident which made the whole thing come home to me. My father was an osteopathic physician and administrator of a hundred-bed hospital in Chicago. He was also primarily responsible for getting osteopathic physicians to the right to perform surgery in the State of Illinois (he himself could have been sued for lancing a boil). It was no surprise that staff surgeons looked to Dad for advice and counsel.

One day when I was about twelve, I answered a mid-day phone call to hear a surgeon growl, “Let me talk to your dad.” With my best phone manners, I assured him Dad wasn’t at home. “Goddamit, Judy,” he exploded. “I know he’s napping, and I need to talk to him NOW. Go get him.” I did.

It turned out the surgeon had been called by a back-alley abortionist who had botched a procedure and thought his patient was dying. He was begging for help to save her life. This was a real dilemma for the surgeon: it being against the law to perform an abortion, he could lose his medical license if he tried to save the patient. His career, and his chance to help many other patients, would be gone; if he didn’t’ help, a young woman might die.

As I said, I was twelve, not tuned in yet to consequences, and I don’t know the outcome of this situation. But it has remained seared on my mind almost seventy years. I’m not going to argue the issue of when life begins—conception or birth—but I will argue to the death that a woman has a right to make her own decisions. I was never able to conceive, and I am grateful beyond measure for my four adopted children, but I consider the ability to conceive and carry to term an infant a gift from God. I am opposed to abortion. But that is me. I can’t make that decision or anyone else. The subject never came up with any of my girls, and I am grateful. Had they, in different circumstances, chosen abortion, I would have been disappointed but supportive. The life of the young woman I know and loved means more to me than that of the fetus.

If you were that surgeon, would you have walked away? Or would you have risked your career and future to save a life?

Rant, Rave, and Dismay

I am so dismayed by the ignorance of the attacks on Planned Parenthood and the gullibility of those who swallow the false information they are being fed that I feel I must speak out. Today was the final straw when I read that PP had sliced through a dead baby’s face to retrieve its brain. I am neither anatomist nor pathologist (I did work for one for a while) but I feel quite sure that’s not the path to the brain. It’s one more outrageous fabricated lie that Pro-Life people are falling for, like photo-shopped and staged videos.

Let me say up front that I am not in favor of abortion. I was unable to bear a child, but through God’s grace I have four wonderful children, all adopted. They are the foundation of my life, and raising them was pure joy (well, most of the time). I would have been heartbroken (but silent) if either of my two daughters or two daughters-in-law wanted an abortion. But I know there are circumstances where that is the wisest course—a defective embryo that would have a short, miserable life; a pregnancy that endangers the mother’s life; even a baby with no one to care for or love it once it enters this world. The big point is that’s an individual woman’s decision—it’s not one to be made by men who will never know the trauma of abortion, the heart ache. Pro-life advocates seem to think it’s a birth control method; I assure you that for mothers who make that decision it is much more of a life changer than that. I bless the women who gave birth to my children, and each year on each child’s birthday I saw a prayer for that birth mother who must remember and wonder and long for her child. I want to tell her how well he or she is doing. But those women were fortunate to have an alternative—a reputable maternity home, few of which exist today. Poor women in that day often resorted to back alley, coat-hanger abortions which often rendered them sterile and sometimes robbed them of their lives.

Back to Planned Parenthood, abortion is only 3% of their mission. Most of it is providing preventive health care to indigent women and contraceptive and other counseling. By so doing, they have prevented thousands upon thousands of abortions—that’s their main mission. If a woman comes to them determined to have an abortion, they make sure she has the safest procedure possible. And only if the woman voluntarily releases the fetus, do they donate fetal tissue, from which they make no profit. But you and I and our families and friends profit immensely from the research that results.

Those stories about live fetuses, selling body parts, all those exaggerated stories are propaganda and those who fall for it should be embarrassed. If you really want every fetus to be born, even defective ones, then step forward, say you’ll raise and care for and love and provide medical attention for each and every baby. Otherwise, please educate yourselves on the distinction between reality and scare techniques.

Rant over. May be resumed at a later date.

America as a Nazi state?

We’ve heard it a couple of years, like an innuendo floating around on social media. America is headed the same direction as Germany in the mid-1930s.  This dire prediction comes from all sides and ends of the political spectrum—conservatives blame President Obama; liberals blame the House of Representatives. I sort of ignored the whole thing, thinking “That would never happen in America.”

But a couple of recent incidents have changed my head-in-the-sand denial stance. One was the Congressman who suggested we stone to death all gays. Barbaric beyond words. And wasn’t there a suggestion of the death penalty for women who have abortions (in Texas, I believe—of course). The logic of that defies understanding. Has America sunk that low?

But then the stunning defeat of Eric Cantor caught me up short. I hold no brief for Cantor. He always seemed cold, calculating, and heartless. His defeat was a negative in some ways because, as someone suggested, “The devil we know vs. the one we don’t know.” That would be Mr. Brat I suppose. I have no idea who the Democratic candidate is.

But the really scary thing about Cantor’s defeat is how few votes were actually cast in the election. What that means to me is that if voters don’t wake up, the far right, Tea Partiers, wing nuts, whatever you want to call them, will take over this country. And then we will be headed toward the kind of regime Hitler instituted. They may not hate Jews (so much) but they hate gays, abortion, liberals, etc. It scares me even to think about it.

The key to me is that people have to get out and vote—I don’t care how you vote, just do it. The right-wing fringe is just that—a fringe. But they’re the ones voting. The rest of us seem apathetic—and that indeed is how the German citizenry were!

A tale of two women

Two women have riveted my attention this week. One of course is Wendy Davis, State Senator from my home town. I think she was once my city council representative and know she was once our state rep. She won her Senate seat against great odds and a smug self-confidence on the part of her opponent.

In the Texas Legislature, she has successfully fought on behalf of the everyday people of Texas—particularly for education and for women. Ambitious? What politician isn’t? But I think she’s more dedicated to the people of Texas than most politicians we watch.

Her heroic filibuster the other night demonstrated how hard she will fight for what she believes, once again in the face of great odds. Her Republican opponents, bent on controlling women’s anatomy, were sure she’d fail. And they certainly tried to make it happen. To my mind, the help with the back brace may have been a violation of Texas’ ridiculously strict laws governing filibusters, but to call mention of a sonogram law as off-subject in a debate on abortion is patently political, and, I bet, wouldn’t hold up in a court of law.

Rick Perry took an undigified personal swipe at Wendy Davis in a speech to the National Right for Life Association, saying it’s too bad that she, a single mother at a young age, didn’t learn from her own lesson that every life is precious. (Note, please, that Davis, who fights for choice and health care, not abortion, chose to carry her child—as the mother of four adopted children, I am grateful to four young women who made that same choice.) What Wendy Davis learned was to make lemonade out of lemons—she put herself through school and then Harvard Law School. No small feat. Until this week, general wisdom was that she was known in Texas, particularly North Texas, but not outside the state. Suddenly she has catapulted onto the national and even international political stage. Tomorrow morning, she will appear on all three major networks talk show.

Go Wendy! And don’t the rest of you ever count her down and out.

The other woman on my mind is Paula Deen, who is down but not yet out. I’m not sure what started this flurry—did she publicly confess her racial slur? Did someone dig up some quotes? Whatever it was apparently happened about as long ago as Wendy Davis’ child out of wedlock. Thirty years ago, I don’t think any of us were as aware and politically correct as we are today.

I’m not a particular Deen fan, though I sometimes watched her show. Her recipes are enticing, but too rich in butter and cream for my diet, and the way she says “pee-can” riles me: everyone knows it’s puh-cahn with the emphasis on the second syllable (sorry I can’t give you the phonetic description). And she is way too cutsey, but give the woman credit. She too came from an unfortunate start—among other things, as she revealed in one of her books, she was at one time severely agoraphobic (I can identify) and overcame it. She’s built an amazing empire, but now that empire is crumbling beneath her feet—book and TV show contracts cancelled, endorsements dropped.

When Matt Lauer interviewed her last week, I thought I had never seen a woman who had aged so fast. She’s a broken woman. And Americans broke her with their sometimes pompous sense of right and wrong. If she used the “N” word and made some outrageous suggestions about black waiters, it was way in the past. Do we have to crush her completely now? Let him who is without sin cast the first stone. How many of us could honestly say or do that?

Two women with much in common—shaky starts in life, overcoming their backgrounds to reach great success. One’s star is rising; the other’s star has fallen to the ground. Both intrigue me. And I hold our hope for both of them.

A Texas woman to make us all proud

I am so in awe of Texas State Senator Wendy Davis. She's got a tiny bit over three hours to go in her thirteen-hour filibuster to prevent the Texas legislature from passing the strictest anti-abortion law in the country. The bill, sponsored by men with a sketchy knowledge of medicine, especially the female reproductive system, but political ambitions, would close ninety percent of the reproductive health care clinics in the state, forcing some rural women to drive hundreds of miles for care. Many would simply go without, to the detriment of their health, and so would many poor women. I believe it also bars exceptions in cases of rape and incest. It's a severe ramping up of the "war on women."
Senator Davis, wearing pink running shoes, is reading letters from hundreds of women all over Texas, telling their stories. Some letters have made the senator cry as she reads. Some have prompted questions from her opposition, giving her a slight break in talking. Whens she completes the filibuster, shortly after midnight, she will have successfully defeated the bill. Law requires this special called session to end at midnight tonight. Governor Rick Perry could conceivably call a second special session--and there are rumors he's considering it--which would cost Texas $30,000 a day. But I think both sides are tired of the fight. The session was originally called ostensibly to consider taxes or budget but has dealt with nothing but the abortion issue, which did not pass during the regular session.
Senator Davis cannot sit down, drink water (or anything else), take a bathroom break or any other kind of break. The filibuster rules are strict, and I got to wondering how one "trains" for this ordeal. Do you load up on water to avoid dehydration, or do you stop drinking it well in advance to avoid bathroom emergencies? One has to think of practicalities. Whatever, Senator Davis didn't have long. Her colleagues chose her to do this job just a day or two ago. The record for a filibuster in Texas is held by a gentleman (sorry I forget his name or the nature of the issue) who talked for something like forty-five hours. He was quoted today as saying the hardest part was staying awake.
Some time back I heard mention of Senator Davis as a possible gubernatorial candidate--for heaven's sake, we've got to have someone to get Perry out of office. Whether she'll run or not, no one knows, but I foresee a grass roots campaign to draft her.
Texas has a history of extraordinarily strong women, and someone commented today how much we miss Ann Richards and Molly Ivins. They'd have blistered the Republican-controller legislature. I once wrote a Texas Small Book for TCU Press titled Extraordinary Texas Women. If I had it to do over again, I'd surely add Wendy Davis. Proud to say she used to be my state representative and is from my part of Fort Worth--or maybe I should say I'm from her part of Fort Worth.
Go, Wendy! You can do this!

Current events--state, national and personal

I am much less upset about domestic spying than I am by the law the Texas legislature is trying to pass, dooming many women to back-alley, coat-hanger abortions and depriving poor women of affordable, available medical care. One person on Facebook suggested they don't care about individual women, they just want to please their base. I can't figure out what base the Republicans have left since they've alienated Hispanics, black Americans, women, and most thinking people. Who's left? Old, angry white men. Enough to vote them back into office and to re-elect Governor Perry, who supposedly called this special session over--what was it? taxes? budget?--Whatever it was, it got dumped and the session has been devoted to abortion legislation. And now Perry's talking about another special session--which will cost taxpayers tons of money--did I read #30,000/day. Our fiscally conservative governor. I love Texas, but too often I'm ashamed to live here.
On to the matter of domestic spying, which doesn't particularly upset me. Wasn't the program started under President Bush? Why were there no outcries then? Because no Snowden came forward? Since there's been testimony that some 50 terrorist attacks have been averted, I think it's well worth keeping. If you're trying that hard to hide something, it's probably something you shouldn't be doing. I don't think whoever's doing the wire-tapping, etc., pays much attention o us ordinary citizens.
As for the Snowden person, I think he's getting far too much more attention (and sympathy in some quarters) than he deserves: if he had a security clearance, I would presume he took an oath not to reveal what he knew. He violated that and caused his country all kinds of trouble-is that really patriotism. Besides, his background doesn't exactly support him with credibility. But that's all another matter.
Though I did have an eye-opening encounter with the FBI today. I got an email on a writers listserv that pointed out that bookos.org was posting pirated books. I've asked them to cease and desist before and they've done so, but I checked today and several of my titles were listed, including Mattie, which is my bestseller on Amazon. So the os in their name, which undoubtedly means out of stock, is not true. The email alert gave instructions for reporting them to the FBI, with the caveat that the FBI gets a gazillion tips a day but if enough of us complain, they might do something. So I clicked on the FBI tip site, filled out my name, and lo and behold! the site automatically filled in all my other information. Now I realize that may be a computer function, but it was, as I said, eye-opening to even think the FBI had it that accessible.
Two cooking magazines arrived in the mail today, but I resisted and finished reading galleys on my next Kelly O'Connell Mystery. Danger Comes Home will launch as an e-book the week of July 22--a nice birthday present for me--with print to follow. So now I've read galleys, typed the list of my corrections, and sent it to the editor. I can have the guilty pleasure of reading recipes the rest of the evening.