Saturday, October 23, 2010

The Column They Wouldn't Run! Part II

My column, "Dodge Trucks Are..." made the rounds thanks to the magic of e-mail and good old-fashioned hand outs from friends who copied it and passed it along.


But, more important, the Jersey County Journal (the paper for which I am a columnist and wrote the piece) ran it last week as a letter to the editor!


Here's what happened: the owner wouldn't publish it as a column, so the regional editor suggested that I resubmit it as a letter to the editor, because the paper's policy is to run all letters as long as they aren't slanderous or libelous. So, I resubmitted the column as a letter and they published it last week.


Friday, October 8, 2010

The Column They Wouldn't Run!

In addition to freelance writing, I am a staff columnist for the local paper in Jerseyville, Illinois, and have been for the past four years. As an independent/liberal I often bump up politically against the owner and publisher, who are conservative. For the past few months, the paper has published an steady stream of columns and letters by the local Tea Party and 9/12 groups, with no balance from other parties or interests. So, in response, I wrote the following column. The owner refused to publish it. So, here it is:

Dodge trucks are…
By Stephanie Abbajay

Repeat after me: Obama is a Muslim. Obama is a socialist. Obama is not an American citizen. Say it over and over again. Hmmm. Still not true. Say it again, and louder this time. Still not true. Well, It doesn’t matter, because in many quarters of American politics, truth is beside the point.

This tactic has been used for decades. Why? Because it works. I first learned this back in 1987, when I was fresh out of college and living in Washington, D.C. The presidential primaries were in full swing, and my roommates and I were in the thick of it: I was working for one of the most conservative Republican political consultants in town (he had been Jessie Helms’ foreign policy advisor); one of my roommates worked on the Bush-Quayle campaign; and the other worked for the great Republican political consulting firm Black Manafort Stone and Kelly, which ran all the big Republican campaigns.

To train its young operatives, several of the Republican consultants ran a campaign college. The first day of class, the teacher walked in and said simply, “Dodge trucks are.” Then he waited. He said it again. “Dodge trucks are.” A few people sheepishly replied, “Ram tough?” The instructor smiled broadly and, in an encouraging voice, said, “Dodge trucks are?” and the class responded, “Ram tough!” Again and again the instructor said it and again and again the class responded until people were screaming in unison, “Dodge trucks are ram tough! Dodge trucks are ram tough!”

The instructor quieted the room. He then said in a serious voice, “Are Dodge trucks ram tough? Who knows? Who cares? Doesn’t matter. If you say it enough, it’s true.” Class had begun.
From that starting point, students were taught the consultants’ cardinal rules of campaigns and politics: First, you win by destroying your opponent. Second, appeal to the base, and play on their fears and emotions. Third, if you say it enough times, it becomes true. Fourth, speak in platitudes and don’t worry about details.

Now, this is no secret. These are tried and true tactics. Any student of politics knows that you have to play hardball. Politics is a contact sport, where all’s fair. But right now, the shrill and ignorant rhetoric of several of the parties, candidates and talking heads has reached a deafening crescendo. I have never heard anything like it, and it has gotten to the point where I am actually uncomfortable. For example, when I hear people say that our president is a socialist or a Muslim or not an American citizen, I am just embarrassed for them. Really? You honestly believe that?

As much as I am disturbed by this, I am, at the same time, impressed with how well these political groups know their base and cater to its deepest and darkest fears. These operatives know that in order to win they have to motivate their base. And in order to do that, they have to create a monster so scary, so anathema to their base’s sense of self that they will ignore all reason, all truth, all evidence to the contrary. That monster is a black socialist Kenyan Muslim indoctrinated at an al-Qaeda funded Indonesian madrassa who wants to raise their taxes and reach into their wallets so he can give free health care to the illegal immigrants who are taking all their jobs. 


And the base took the bait, hook, line and sinker. People actually believe this stuff. It’s impressive in a really, really scary way.
But as impressive as it is from a politically operational standpoint, at some point, someone has to stand up and say, come on, enough is enough. Obama himself has repeatedly said enough is enough, but no one listens to him because he’s the president and that’s yesterday’s news. Plus he’s an illegal Muslim socialist immigrant, and who listens to them?

But hark! Suddenly, two sane voices rise above this chorus of insanity to urge calm and civil discourse. Who are they? The country’s most popular comedians, Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert.

With their Oct. 30 “Rally to Restore Sanity,” Stewart says, “We're looking for the people who think shouting is annoying, counterproductive, and terrible for your throat; who feel that the loudest voices shouldn't be the only ones that get heard; and who believe that the only time it's appropriate to draw a Hitler mustache on someone is when that person is actually Hitler. If we had to sum up the political view of our participants in a single sentence... we couldn't. That's sort of the point.”

It says a lot about the state of a country’s political dialogue when the comedians are the ones calling for measured discourse. They’d never graduate from campaign college with that attitude, that’s for sure.

Stephanie Abbajay is not a socialist or a Muslim. And she was born in Toledo. And that’s Ohio, not Spain.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Oskar and the C-word

Every day when I pick Oskar up from school I meet with his teacher for a debriefing on how he behaved that day. In order to encourage positive behavior, the school has devised a point system whereby if Oskar earns a certain number of points, he receives a reward – screen time at home (his holy grail). If he does not earn enough points, he does not earn screen time (which includes TV, computer and his beloved Nintendo DSi). Oskar carries a clipboard with him from class to class, and each segment of his day (there are 7) is graded independently in 4 different areas (staying attentive, being polite, hands to himself, being quiet) on a scale of zero to 3.

Every day, Oskar’s teacher meets me at the door and goes over the day, class-by-class, point-by-point. By now, Oskar is done. He is tired and impatient and just wants to know if he earned enough points or not. But every day, his teacher and I go over each class and each point and discuss both where he did well and where he needs improvement. Then she tallies up the points and delivers the score.

This purpose of the protocol is to show Oskar that he is accountable for his behavior and his actions, and that good, acceptable behavior will be rewarded. I feel so fortunate that the school is on board 100 percent with a behavior modification plan, and they have bent over backwards to accommodate us. I mean, what kind of teacher takes this much time and effort for one student? It’s incredible.

Nevertheless, it’s also exhausting and increasingly demoralizing, as Oskar’s behavior is remarkably inconsistent. We can do everything right at home – a great night’s sleep, plenty of exercise, a good healthy breakfast, a nice walk to school – and then when he gets to school, there is no rhyme or reason; he can still have a bad day. You never know.

So, when 3:15 rolls around I start to steel myself for the meeting. What good or bad news will I get today? Will he earn enough points to watch “Modern Family” and play Sims II or will I have to find some way to occupy an angry Oskar for the entire evening? Will he be proud of his ability to control himself or will he be bitter and convinced that everyone is out to get him? Increasingly, I have considered taking a bracing shot of whiskey before I head out the door…

In addition to the daily meetings with his teacher, I also meet with the principal, who informs me of behavioral transgressions in unstructured, non-academic settings, like lunch and recess. This school has high expectations for their students’, and they do not cotton to inappropriate behavior. Two weeks ago, the principal spoke to me about Oskar using more appropriate language, after he reported being “in a pissy mood” and threatening to “kill” another student if he lost his place in a book. Last week, the principal talked to Oskar again when, during recess, Oskar took two basketballs, put them under his shirt and pranced around, pretending to have breasts.

On Monday, the principal had to speak to Oskar again about proper lunchroom behavior and respecting his food when, during lunch, he frosted his sloppy Joe with his strawberry yogurt, stuck a carrot stick in the top and sang happy birthday to a classmate.

Yesterday, when I went to pick Oskar up his teacher said he had a very bad day. Indeed, he earned only a meager 64 points (far short of the 74 needed to earn screen time). At this point, Oskar stormed out of the building, and we could see him through the glass doors as he sulked, teary eyed on the playground. His teacher went class-by-class, point by point, to show me where he had trouble (not keeping his hands to himself in Spanish, being silly in music, etc.).

Worst of all, she said, was that he was used inappropriate language. She leaned in close to me and whispered, “He used the C word.” My jaw dropped. My heart sank. I think I may have even gasped. “He what?” I said, incredulous. She nodded, “Yes, the C word.”

Simultaneously, I started spelling, “c-u-?” while she said, “crap.” She looked at me and I looked at her. I was a little embarrassed that I went there, but I recovered quickly and said, “Yes, that is unacceptable. He can’t say crap in school and we will talk about it tonight.”

He didn’t earn screen time last night, and instead used the time to teach himself how to knit. I have to admit, I almost gave him screen time for NOT saying the c-word. It’s a start.

City Girl

While I am still baking biscotti and writing my columns for the local paper out here in Jersey County, Illinois, I'm not entirely the Country Girl anymore. In August, we rented a house in the tony enclave of Clayton in St. Louis so the kids could go to the terrific public schools here (Spanish starts in first grade!). Last year, I was schlepping Oskar into St. Louis every day to attend a special private school that caters to kids with learning disabilities. Oskar has a weird and challenging cocktail (a "witch's brew" as one of his doctors put it) of neurological and behavioral impairments: Tourette's Syndrome, mild Asperger's, ADHD, and a few other acronyms. It was a brutal commute and every day was stressful. So, for the half the amount of that tuition, we rented a beautiful 3-bedroom duplex in the fantastic DeMun/Captain neighborhood, and now both Oskar (5th grade) and Willa (1st) are at the same school. We go back to the farm on weekends and Dave Stine does his best to make it to the city a few times a week. We're still trying to get into a groove, but so far so good...