March 28, 2012 · 2:12 am

EMERGENCY CARE OR HEALTH CARE ?

EMERGENCY CARE OR HEALTH CARE?
Louise Annarino
March 27,2012

What is health care? it is more than curing the sick or saving the dying.It is also preventing disease and enhancing wellness. In fact, Medicare has 3 parts: hospitalization, in office medical treatment and preventive care, and pharmaceutical coverage. The oral arguments both sides made today, and the questions of the Supreme Court Justices pivoted about a conception of saving lives through emergency treatment. it is easy to see how this happened. In arguing for the ACA (Affordable Care Act) one might think it best to stress the harm the ACA seeks to prevent in the strongest fashion, i.e. preventing the deaths of Americans. The opposition arguing against would argue that hospitals do not refuse treatment, and no one will die from lack of treatment even if they are uninsured since emergency rooms don’t refuse treatment. Focusing on emergency care is shortsighted.

Justice Scalia engaged in a conversation with General Verrilli who argued in support of ACA,each falling into the trap of distilling health care down to ER care:

GENERAL VERRILLI: No. It’s because you’re going — in the health care market, you’re going into the market without the ability to pay for what you get, getting the health care service anyway as a result of the social norms that allow — that — to which we’ve obligated ourselves so that people get health care.

JUSTICE SCALIA: Well, don’t obligate yourself to that. Why — you know?

GENERAL VERRILLI: Well, I can’t imagine that that — that the Commerce Clause would –would forbid Congress from taking into account this deeply embedded social norm.

JUSTICE SCALIA: You — you could do it.

It is time for a history lesson. “In 1946, Congress passed a law that gave hospitals, nursing homes and other health facilities grants and loans for construction and modernization. In return, they agreed to provide a reasonable volume of services to persons unable to pay and to make their services available to all persons residing in the facility’s area. The program stopped providing funds in 1997, but about 200 health care facilities nationwide are still obligated to provide free or reduced-cost care.” – http://www.hrsa.gov/gethealthcare/affordable/hillburton/

I am familiar with this case, having assisted in enforcing its provisions while a Columbus Legal Aid Society Lawyer,1978-83, when local hospitals were failing to notify eligible patients of the program; denying care to those unable to afford treatment and/or suing them for unpaid charges which should have been covered under Hill-Burton. Is there a societal norm to treat those in need of medical care? Perhaps, but it is not consistently applied; and in the case of hospitals, did not exist under the law until hospitals needed the latest technology and machinery but could not afford it without help from the federal government. The competition between hospitals to have the latest and best drove this bill. Hospitals improved their competitive edge. To get the federal money to do so, they agreed to not turn away those seeking emergency room treatment. They agreed to stop the bleeding, restart breathing, sew up or put in a cast those in need of emergency care. What happens after the emergency is over, i.e. the person will not soon die is not part of the pact. Once one survives the emergency, further treatment is not assured. If one has no insurance, he must pay out-of-pocket. I am concerned the next step will be to repeal Hill-Burton requirements. Justice Scalia would have no problem doing so.

Justice Scalia spoke correctly. Not only could we imagine a system where hospitals and doctors are not obligated to provide health care; we were operating that way until 1946. We still are except for emergency care in the ER, and a percentage of reduced-cost hospital services for income eligible patients. Hill-Burton applies only to participating hospitals (not every hospital participates), and only to hospital costs. It does not apply to doctor’s services.

To focus on emergency care, a saving lives paradigm, and hospitalization needs is too limited a discussion. Health care is so much more.

Justice Kennedy expressed his concern that healthy young persons are mandated to pay for care they don’t need. He assumes more old persons than young persons die. Of course! But health care is about more than saving persons from death. Justice Scalia expressed a belief persons could buy health insurance when they go to the hospital, no need to mandate it beforehand. Again, he focuses on emergency care, hospital care; not health care.

I wonder if the arguments would be better presented by women. After all, we need health care no matter our age. We bear the babies while young, and we take the kids to the pediatricians. We also push the men we love to go to the doctor they strenuously avoid admitting they need to see. We understand health care as much more than emergency care.

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March 26, 2012 · 3:15 pm

FACT + FICTION = FANTASY

FACT + FICTION = FANTASY
Louise Annarino
March 26, 2012

Italians are great storytellers. An Italian does not simply answer a question; he tells you a story. An Italian does not simply tell you how he feels; he tells you a story. An Italian does not simply give you directions; he tells you a story. Life is an opera. There is no feeling, event,or experience that is big enough when simply explained. Everything is bigger and better when described in a story; the more dramatic, the better.

This does not mean that the main point an Italian is making is false. Colorful descriptions are often added to bolster the drama; not change its core truth.If the descriptions are accurate the storyteller is not lying. He is merely helping you enjoy the story. The story is authentic. An authentic story is powerful. Authentic stories uplift us, strengthen us, guide us in the pursuit of larger truths than we could conceive without them.

But, when a story is constructed with the marriage of fact and pure fiction, it not authentic truth. It becomes fantasy. When the storyteller believes his fantasy, it may appear true; but, it is very dangerous. Such fantasies can be pleasant to hear, but their dishonesty is destructive. Rather than uplift us, they bring us down to the low baseness. Rather than strengthen us, they weaken us. Rather than open our minds to larger truths, they narrow our thinking. Presidential candidate Rick Santorum is a storyteller who believes his story; but, too many of his stories are fantasies. http://articles.philly.com/2012-03-11/news/31145518_1_rick-santorum-heinz-campaign-student-body

Presidential candidate Mitt Romney is not such a gifted storyteller as Mr. Santorum. While it is true that a good storyteller alters his story to reach his audience, the story must be authentic. He may use different color commentary to describe the facts; but, he should never change the facts. And, the color commentary must also be true. Mr. Romney, too often, changes his facts. When he repeats a fact truthfully, his descriptive color is untrue. One need only recall that he did/did not support the auto industry bailout. he did/did not approve Massachusetts/Obama healthcare plans. His facts and fiction change so much so that his stories lose all authenticity. One wonders if even he believes his own stories. Like Mr. Santorum, Mr. Romney’s stories are fantasies.

Where are the “birthers” when we need them?

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March 21, 2012 · 8:33 pm

FEAR OF DEATH: The Politics of Fear and Loathing

FEAR OF DEATH: the Politics of Fear and Loathing
Louise Annarino
March 21, 2012

Few among us do not fear death. So much so, that most of us refuse to discuss it, nor even think about it. My 2d. grade Catholic catechism instructed me that God made me to show His goodness and to make me happy with Him in heaven. This told me 2 things: life was good, and heaven was good. But, I knew I had to die to get to heaven. I knew I was made to live, then to die, then to live again. Does it make dying any easier to contemplate I shall live again, or still, after I die? Not really. This is merely a theory, a tenet of faith, after all. Who really knows?

One thing I do know; death is not pretty. I have sat near the bedsides of my dying parents and friends. Their physical and emotional suffering, physical deterioration, sense of helplessness, utter dependence on others, and questioning why any of it is necessary is heartbreaking. I struggled to be faithfully present for them, to keep a smile on my face, to offer a gentle touch of personal care, to remain hopeful. I felt terror that I might have to stare death in the face, that my grief might overwhelm the loving relationship we shared, that I could cause physical or emotional pain. And I felt guilt.

I felt guilt that I would continue to live, that I enjoyed my free time, and that I planned for my future. Most of all, I felt guilt because I was relieved I was not the one who was dying. That is the secret we all keep to ourselves. We keep quiet about death because we rationalize that if we avoid thinking or talking about it, it will not happen; not to us. We act as though we are immortal, totally in charge of our world and our lives. We fear death. We have given it a power of its own. In reality, it belongs to us. It became ours the moment we were born. When we run from death we are running from ourselves.

What if an entire culture were facing death? First, we must answer the question, “What is death?” A simple answer might be : the end of life; or, perhaps, a transition from one life or energy form to another. What we really fear is the disintegration of self, the inability to be who we are at our core. The death of our body does not frighten us so much as the death of our soul-personality-inner being. Our essence, the “I” we feel at our deepest level, is immortal, never-ending, never-changing. Truly, we are made in the image of God, for these attributes are those we normally assign to God. We are god-like, on the way to becoming one with God. What we fear is the loss of our personhood, our individuality, the name we call ourselves, our personal power to be us. So even the thought of going to heaven to be one with God is a very scary proposition. We want to maintain our identity, our uniqueness, our control. We don’t even want to give it up to be one with God.

So, if a culture were facing disintegration; if it had to constantly adjust to the attempted merger with identities unlike itself, who might threaten its uniqueness and control…would it be afraid? Would it want to avoid any change to its identity? Would it want to persist in its uniqueness? Would it fear the “other”, no matter how good or god-like the other is? Would it be too afraid to talk about its fear? Would it be angry whenever someone else brought up related subjects. Would it fear a loss of control? Would it fear a disintegration of self ? Can a culture die? What happens when it does?

When I listen to the tea party, Republican leaders, and Republican presidential candidates attack President Obama I hear the fear of death; the death of an ideology, a political party. When I see what appears to be a Sanford,Florida police cover-up of the murder of Travyon Martin; and, when I listen to the phone tapes of his killer, witnesses etc. I hear the fear of death, the death of racial superiority. When I listen to Joe Arpaio, Sheriff of Maricopa County, Arizona discuss his need to control immigrants, I hear the fear of death; the death of white “good ole’ boy” culture that is “as American as motherhood and apple pie”. When I hear Rick Santorum denounce science and man-made climate change, I hear the fear of death; the death of religious domination of thought. When I tabulate the efforts to deny women access to birth control, reproductive freedom, and abortion rights I see the fear of death; the death of control by men over women. When I hear Governors such as Wisconsin’s Walker and Ohio’s Kasich attack labor unions, regulation of Wall Street and corporations, I hear the fear of death; the death of moneyed interests’ absolute control of wealth. When I hear FOX News and other media sources ignore facts, twist facts, create facts and outright lie I hear the fear of death; the death of media control of information.

What if we admit we will die? What if we admit our “culture” will die? I submit that once we accept death we can get on with living. But so long as we continue to live in denial we must live in fear. I am not afraid of dying. Either I will transition, or I won’t; but, I can do nothing to stop the system. It is an evolutionary scheme I am part of by reason of my birth. And, I am just ornery enough to believe my personality is immortal. I will go on and on and on. I have just as much confidence in my country, my nation, my American culture. It is a culture prepared for change, ready to evolve, eager to accept the “Other”. America is a country which transforms itself into something ever-new. It is this alchemy of spirit which makes us a strong nation. We take the base metal of so many different ethnicities, religions, and ideologies and turn them into gold. This does not make me afraid; it makes me hopeful. It makes me proud. President Obama, despite what the fearful “birthers” would have us believe, is the quintessential American.

Christian liberals marvel at the fear expressed by fundamentalist Christians, fundamentalist Muslims, and fundamentalist Jews. One thing all religions have in common is a story to resolve our fear of death. Perhaps, resolving the fear of death will allow us to enjoy an America where a civil conversation is possible, and we don’t need to lie to one another or ourselves. Now that would be heaven on earth.

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March 18, 2012 · 2:06 pm

COLLATERAL DAMAGE

COLLATERAL DAMAGE
Louise Annarino
March 18,2012

Watching flood water inundate Hebron, Ohio his week reminded me of the 1959 flood which caused my family’s evacuation from our Newark, Ohio home. Our street lay between the railroad tracks and the Licking River, in a neighborhood where Italian immigrants displaced Germans who had come before them. It was rich in culture, if not in cash.

The Sisters sent us home from school early that morning to be with our families as the water continued to rise and flooding seemed certain. My 12 year old brother Angelo joined other neighborhood men and boys at the levee, filling sandbags to hold the rapidly rising river at bay. It was January, the ground still frozen, and the rain steady. It was cold.

My Mother had put her huge soup pot on the stove and was making enough beef stew to feed half the population of evacuees. She was ready for anyone who was forced to flee and needed shelter until the water receded. Dad called every hour or so to check on us; his restaurant open as an emergency station for local police officers, state highway patrol, National Guardsmen and fire personnel. He would be there throughout the ordeal offering hot coffee and meals to our rescuers.

While Mom hummed and cooked I packed every suitcase or satchel with clothes for my three brothers. I layered 6 year old Michael in every item I could fit over him, sat him on the couch with a few toys and told him to be ready to put on his coat because we would be leaving soon. I packed six month old Johnny’s diaper bag, dressed him in several layers, and prepared extra blankets to wrap him up when they time came. I knew we were leaving because the water was rising all around us; the sand-bagging temporarily safeguarding the few nearest streets.

Mom insisted I was overreacting when I piled every jar of baby food in the cupboard into brown grocery bags. While I was listening to geography on the radio, Mom was listening to the numbers of persons made homeless. It was not clear to either of us, each of us listening so hard, what we must do. I insisted we leave; Mom was determined to stay. Dad had told us the Army Corps of Engineers guy warned him that our entire south-end would be under water and we needed to prepare to leave. So, we prepared. When Mom called to tell the radio announcer she was offering our home as a shelter with plenty of hot food and a place to be warm and dry, she finally understood no one would be coming to our house. As she spoke he aired her information directly to his audience. When he asked her to provide the address for people, she told him and he responded to my satifaction, “Lady, you are in the evacuation area! You need to get out of there as soon as possible.”

Within minutes Angelo ran in announcing the levee was leaking and sure to break open, so everyone was fleeing. Things got serious then. Mom decided Michael still would need a birthday cake on his birthday the next day and began packing flour,sugar,cocoa,butter,eggs and vanilla. She filled containers with water, gathered milk and juice, fruit and vegetables. An Army ‘duck’ was patrolling the street,a soldier shouting from his bullhorn, “everyone, evacuate immediately…IMMEDIATELY!” We were ready, but need transportation. Dad had our only car. Luckily, Dad arrived within minutes, just behind the army personnel who had allowed him permission to enter our sealed-off neighborhood. He ran to the basement, turning off the gas, water and electric to avoid potential fire or explosion as water began rising in the basement. We were not able to put all we had packed into the car. Dad quickly prioritized food and water, baby supplies, the many layers of clothes we were wearing, and extra blankets. We were each allowed a pillow, but no toys. My new Shirley Temple doll, the love of my life,was to be left to fend for herself. I was crushed. I cried all the way to Grandpa Annarino’s house, where we would be staying. He lived on some of the highest ground in Newark.

The next day, despite every adult’s protest, but to the delight of us children Michael blew out the candles on his birthday cake. The adults opined it was a waste of precious water and eggs; the kids opined it was the best cake ever. We were safe. Mom and I were contentedly happy women. After dropping us off, Dad had talked his way past the guards telling them he had forgotten to turn off the gas and he would just be in and out.He rescued Shirley and the long leather coat he had recently given Mom as a Christmas gift.

I asked Dad about a report I had heard on the radio that the reason Newark flooded was because the flood gates were opened at Buckeye Lake, allowing the lake water to flood those of us living downstream. Dad explained that the property values around the lakeside were so much higher, the decision was made to flood the poorer neighborhoods near the river, where property values were very low. It was clear to me what was going on. This protected the rich people who had summer homes at the lake, at our expense. We were collateral damage. This was not simply Mother Nature, but politics.

While I watched the people living in Hebron trailer parks, on a low-lying area near the river, drag soaked sofas out into the yard to dry in the sun and shovel mud out their front doors I did not need to ask myself, “Why is it that the poor are always hardest hit?” They are positioned to suffer the brunt of any natural disaster. Their homes are built on land the rich can afford to avoid. They can’t afford rental insurance. They have nowhere to run when things get tough. They cannot afford to hire clean-up companies; they are on their own. They cannot afford to miss work; recovery stretches into weeks, not days. The suffering of the poor is disproportionate to their loss when compared to the loss suffered by insured homeowners, or the rich whose neighborhoods are so well protected.

I am not pointing this out as a declaration of class warfare. I knew from an early age that the well-being of my class was already threatened by those with money and power who would always protect themselves at my expense. I was chosen by the powerful and rich to suffer the possibility of becoming collateral damage. Now what would you call that? While Gingrich, Santorum, Romney and Paul decry the collateral damage caused by American drones they continue to espouse policies which would cause collateral and direct damage on our middle class and on our poor.

Is there a Republican war on women? No, women are merely collateral damage in the war on President Obama and the Democratic Party, Is there a Republican war on immigrants? No, immigrants are merely collateral damage. Is there a Republican war against gays? No, the LGBT community is merely collateral damage. Is there a Republican war against universal health care? No, health care for all is merely collateral damage. Is there a Republican war against labor unions, union and non-union workers, immigrant and female workers? No, workers are merely collateral damage. I think Republicans truly believe this. Some collateral damage to Americans is permitted to protect the interests of the wealthy and powerful, and just to destroy the presidency of Barack Obama, who is dedicated to ending the wars in Iraq, Afghanistan, and the war here at home against the 99% of Americans.

No more collateral damage, please.

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March 16, 2012 · 2:29 pm

FOR WANT OF A NAIL: CHILDREN'S NURSERY RHYME

 

FOR WANT OF A NAIL: CHILDREN’S NURSERY RHYME

Louise Annarino

March 16, 2012

For want of a nail the shoe was lost.
For want of a shoe the horse was lost.
For want of a horse the rider was lost.
For want of a rider the battle was lost.
For want of a battle the kingdom was lost.
And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.

-“Confesio Amantis” – John Gower- 1390

-Benjamin Franklin – Poor Richard’s Almanac

 

“During World War II, this verse was framed and hung on the wall of the Anglo-American Supply Headquarters in London, England.” http://www.rhymes.org.uk/index.htm

Pick up your hammers and drive the message home that we cannot allow a misdirected effort to reduce deficit allowing the United States of America’s middle class, the glue that holds together any democracy, to be lost “for want of a nail”. David Cameron, Prime Minister of Great Britain,who recently paid a state visit to the United States,and President Barack Obama probably did not recite together the nursery rhyme “For Want of a Nail” during their talks; although it has long history on both sides of the pond. Many Americans and Brits seem to have forgotten it, and are failing to heed its wisdom. Vice-President Joe Biden’s speech to UAW workers in Toledo indicates that the Obama Administration has not forgotten the rhyme’s wisdom, and has the strength of conviction to supply the nails to keep the country working.

There are those who cry President Obama does too much; he’s a socialist! There are those who say he does too little; he’s in bed with Wall Street!  I would remind each side of another nursery rhyme, “Goldilocks and the Three Bears”. President Obama is helping our economy, our energy development, our environment, our health care protections, our food-water-air safety, immigration reform, women’s rights, LGBT rights, voting rights etc. “just right”. Would the president like to see less obstruction and more cooperation  from House and Senate Republicans for even better outcomes? Of course. But, the Republicans have indicated since the election, even before President Obama was sworn into office and daily since, that their primary goal is a failed presidency; thus, the country’s failure. Republicans continue to withhold the nails needed to build the country and ensure its economic security. Holding back the nails males it difficult for the president to rebuild America. The fact that he has accomplished so much despite such obstruction is because as Joe Biden put it, the president is “tough as nails”.

We must elect those who agree we cannot suffer the U.S.’s failure “for want of a nail” to the House and the Senate. Support the Obama-Biden ticket.  Support Democrats willing to hammer some nails alongside Joe Biden and Barack Obama. Elect Democrats who are tough as nails.

Help get out the vote. Help others to obtain the I.D. they will need to vote, get them registered to vote, then provide transportation to the polls. BE the hammer! BE the nail!

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March 13, 2012 · 4:06 pm

UD BASKETBALL AND OBAMA

UD BASKETBALL AND OBAMA

Louise Annarino

March 13, 2012

President Obama and Prime Minister David Cameron will be at UD Arena tonight. It is probably too much to hope that these men who have so much of the world’s burden on their shoulders will be able to forget the world for a moment, and simply enjoy a basketball game. The selfless dedication of our public servants amazes me. Yes, cynics, I know the doors of fame and riches open to them. But, they are talented in so many ways that those doors would open regardless. But, such men and women sacrifice so much more than they gain from public service. They serve you and me. In the case of these world leaders, they serve the entire world. I don’t know about you; but, I find that heavy an obligation overwhelming. I am so grateful, they are willing to take on this role.

For President Obama, the role has been made even more difficult by the racism which undermines every facet of our society. He has faced such racism all his life; every African-American does so. Mr. Midea, my high school social studies teacher, helped my class conduct a racism survey across Newark, Ohio in 1966-67. The results were appalling. People even acknowledged they would refuse to receive communion from a Black priest. Of course we all read of the priest who recently refused communion to a lesbian woman at her mother’s funeral. Have we learned so little over all this time?

One thing I have learned is that every one of us is a recovering racist; well, not all of us want to recover. I see too many political pundits, rally signs, internet cartoons etc. which are gleefully,blatantly racist not to realize some of us enjoy our racism. At the very least we should denounce these blatant expressions of racism. Better yet, face it in ourselves. When we do that we open our eyes to its impact. We become empowered to defeat it.

I once thought that if we could see one another as people with the same innate intelligence, ability, hopes, and dreams we would reduce racism. However, it appears that establishing such congruence actually increases our racist behavior. We seem to like believing we are superior to someone else. Politicians and pundits praise our “American exceptionalism”.  History books extol “Manifest Destiny”. At tonight’s basketball game someone will hold up a foam hand with a single finger raised in a victory sign, “We’re number 1”.

We eliminated a class or caste system and held “these truths to be self-evident that all men are created equal”; while  excluding African-Americans or women. As a kid I noticed that one-upsmanship ruled every discussion. Your dad made you shovel the sidewalk? My dad made me shovel mine and my grandmother’s! Your school has only two 15 minute recesses? Mine has only 1 recess? And so it would go, on and on. We all want to be number 1; especially politicians. It is unrealistic to expect otherwise.

However, we can ask these hard questions of ourselves: Am I better than anyone else? If so, in what way? Is it because I am a man and she is a woman? Is it because I am a white person and he is an African-American? Is it because my family came here legally years ago, and his did not? Is it because I am a straight person and he is not? Is it because I live in a decent neighborhood, and she does not? Is it because I went to college and he did not? Is it because he has been imprisoned, and I have not? What really makes one person better than another ? If you believe in American values of equality, the answer is “Nothing”. One person may DO something better than another; but that does not mean he IS better.

A politician who recognizes this distinction, who honors every citizen and every country with equal respect is a statesman. President Obama is such a politician. He is a true statesman. He is the very best America has to offer the world. He embodies are core value of equality. We are so fortunate he and Michelle Obama are dedicated to public service. I hope he can enjoy tonight’s game half so much as we enjoy having him there, and as our president.

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March 13, 2012 · 12:41 am

WALKING WITH ANGELA: DAY 2

WALKING WITH ANGELA: DAY 2

Louise Annarino

March 12, 2012

We were walking home from the library; a visit to the library a daily event. My mother Angela would allow me to roam the library for books to read to myself, as she read to my younger brother. We bundled into our heavy sweaters and stuffed our check-out books into the pouch on the back of the stroller,tucked a blanket around my brother Michael and headed home. I had been disappointed that my 6 year old older brother Angelo was able to go to school, but I would have to wait until I was older. The library visit was one way to appease my hunger for knowledge.

The library was a magnificent and, to me, magical building of brick and granite, with Doric columns and huge multi-paned windows. The architecture became less impressive as we walked to the South-End, under the railroad trestle, to the house my Great-Grandfather had built from used materials. The wood was so old and dense that it was nearly impossible to hammer a nail in the wall. Holding onto the handle of the stroller, chatting with Mom, noting the changing demographic markers from rich to poor as we walked home, I asked Mom, “Are we poor?”

“No”, she said, “I have been poor and we are not poor. We have plenty of food to eat. You have your own bed with blankets to warm you. You have dolls to play with and books to read. There will always be someone with less than you, and others with more. Never compare yourself to anyone else.”

“Well, I don’t see why we don’t put all the money in the world into one big pile and just let everyone take their share. Then, no one would be poor,” I offered.

“Oh yes, they would,” Mom replied. “Some people would grab more than they should. Others would not be fast enough to pull out their share. Some would spend their money foolishly and end up with nothing. Others would steal from people or trick them into giving up their money. And, we would end up right back where we started.”

Well, that was an education in economics I was not happy to learn. But, Mom was right, as usual. She told me to work hard, study hard, and not waste my money on cheap clothes, nor useless items. And to “NEVER follow a fad.” She said that fads made people spend money on things that were poorly made, not meant to last, and easily discarded. In other words, a total waste.

Politics, as well as other arenas of American cultural activity, has become a fad for too many Americans. They are “dittoe-heads” who watch hate mongers for entertainment. They don’t take the time to search for lasting solutions, for policies which are “well made” and fit the needs of the country’s long-term economic growth. Unexciting but sound ideas make poor “sound bites”. They look for cheap fixes such as denying women contraceptive health care.They would end the Affordable Care Act, instead of improving it as single-payer health care, which is the most cost-effective health care delivery system. They deny LGBT community its civil rights. They tell immigrants to “self-deport”. They love the latest fad constructed by Karl Rove or the Tea Party.

The voters follow the fads of wall street and hedge fund investors, and commodities and oil traders; instead of regulating their activities, and despite the fact their un-regulated trades and investments brought this country to near-bankruptcy.

The approval rating of  President Obama rises and falls with gas prices, despite the fact he has increased US oil production to an all-time high, his policies have reduced the demand for oil, and he has expanded the development and use of alternative energy sources. Oh, and while he was doing all this, he saved the entire world from a second “great depression”. His administration is not a fad.

Thanks to Angela, I never follow fads. I look for sound economic policies with lasting impact. I am voting for President Obama.

Those who refuse any support for President Obama’s economic policies should have taken a walk with Angela.

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March 9, 2012 · 5:44 pm

WALKING WITH ANGELA: DAY 1

WALKING WITH ANGELA: DAY 1

Louise Annarino

March 9, 2012

 

We were walking home from Van’s market, just around the corner from our house. We had gone to buy a loaf of bread to make toast for breakfast, my older brother still asleep at home. The sun had not risen far this summer morning, the air still cool. I was only 4 years old, too young to run the errand on my own. Thus, I was skipping alongside my mother Angela, dodging the globs of shade cast by the sun trying to find its way through the dark leaves of the maple trees along our route. The contrast of the darkness and the light, ever moving, often capturing my dodging feet, raised a question which I posed to my mother, “Why are some people white and some people black?”.

 

Taking my hand in hers, Angela responded “God does not want us to be bored. If we all looked alike life would be very boring. He made some people tall, some short, some thin, some fat, some with red hair, some with blonde hair, blue-eyed and brown-eyed…and some white, some black. Aren’t you glad He did that?”

 

I nodded yes, “like a box of crayons, right?”

 

“What do you mean?” she asked. She wanted to be certain I understood.

 

“I have more fun coloring with a box of 64 crayons than the 8 crayon box,” I answered.

 

“Yes,” she smiled down at me, “Just like that!”.

 

And now, I understood the power and beauty of diversity; and the wisdom of a God who shared his many images within each of us.

 

Sean Hannity has been playing part of an early video of young Harvard law student who would one day become the 1st. African-American president of the United States, Barak Obama. Young student Obama was speaking as a class leader before his peers, of all colors. They had been gathering for months pleading for a more diverse faculty; a faculty lacking any African-American women, any Latino men or women. He spoke after one of 3 African-American male faculty members, took an unpaid leave in support of the students’ efforts. The students were grateful for his support.

 

Hannity’s clip simply shows young Obama’s comments commending Professor Bell as proof of President Obama’s divisive outlook and support of radicals. Hannity does not understand that diversity does not equal divisiveness; it equals inclusion. It is no more radical than liking more variety in one’s crayons.He has it exactly backwards. He does not know he should be dodging the dark side of the leaves; and, instead, dance in the light shining through the trees.

 

He should have taken a few walks with Angela.

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March 9, 2012 · 3:03 pm

FEAR AND LOATHING: A Tribute to Rush Limbaugh

FEAR AND LOATHING: A Tribute to Rush Limbaugh

Louise Annarino

March 9, 2012

 

Have you ever been sexually assaulted? Have you had a man put his hand up your skirt an drag you along by pulling on your pubic bone? Have you been walking along campus with 2 friends and been pulled away and thrown to the ground by a group of young men; your friends escaping while you were held down kicking and screaming as 3 of the 6 men tried to rape you? Have you been stopped at a red light when a man runs up and jumps into your car and reaches for you, running the light at top speed to dislodge him from your front seat? Have you been cornered, shoved and punched by a man when you were alone doing research in the library stacks? Have you been hunted down like prey until you were running through the streets walking home from the law library at 3 a.m. where you had been preparing for moot court the next day; saved by a neighborhood dog who attacked the man so you could reach your apartment door? Have you been warned by a judge that your client’s husband is asking how to find you, has a gun, and is threatening to rape or kill you? Have you been called a “f…ing bitch” by a defendant whose deposition you are taking? Do you carry the photo of a rapist in your purse and look at it daily to memorize his face because prison officials and police have warned you his letters threatening to rape and kill you upon his release from prison are deadly serious? No? well, I have. The climate of hate against women is strong; and Rush Limbaugh increases its strength every day.

 

To all those who describe his most recent verbal attacks against specific women as a matter of “free speech”, you are dead/rape wrong. I am a writer, a teacher, a lawyer. Words are my trade. Free speech is the love of my life. What Rush has done is NOT protected by the U.S. Constitution. Assault “placing another in fear of bodily harm” is not protected speech. It is a crime. Mr. Limbaugh has placed Ms. Fluke and American women under threat of bodily harm. Those of us who have experienced the results of misogyny, are well aware that sexual attacks are not based on lust, but on anger, anger directed against women. People like Rush Limbaugh use women as targets for anger because they see us as “the weaker sex”, easy victims. Rush stoked that anger for several days, and continues to do so despite an apology for 2 words. He has not apologized for stoking hatred against and causing fear in women. He has given people license to attack, threaten, rape and even kill women. For years he has done so, in a more general way, using words to describe strong women who defy his perception of what a woman should be like (weak and easy to manipulate) as “feminazis”. But, in this case he has directed his threat at a very specific woman; lying about her to make her weaker and easier to victimize. His followers have taken up his cause. Even Barbara Walters tells us to “just change the channel” because people could come after her and those on THE VIEW. Really? Rush Limbaugh’s behavior is nothing like what Ed Schultz, Bill Maher, Roland Martin, or Keith Olbermann were disciplined for. Too strong for you? Read my 1st paragraph.

 

Am I sensitive? Of course, and you should be also. you should be sensitive for the sakes of your daughters, grand-daughters, wives and girlfriends, mothers and sisters, cousins and aunts, even your grandmother. Most disturbing to me are the women who defend Rush Limbaugh. I can understand that men may not feel the fear of a Rush-triggered assault; but, women? Thank Goodness we have a president with empathy who can cross the divide between men and women, as he crosses so many divides in this country. For his daughters and his wife, he tried to ease the fear and the pain Rush Limbaugh caused Ms. Fluke. He understood that Rush assaulted her and all women when he asked Ms. Fluke, “Are you OK?”

 

I have shared my fear and disgust, hoping that when you listen or participate in a discussion of free speech and Rush Limbaugh you will feel what I and millions of women feel…utter disgust that our lives are held so cheaply! But not by President Obama; never by President Obama.

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March 8, 2012 · 12:11 pm

RICH OR POOR, WE EACH WANT MORE

RICH OR POOR, WE EACH WANT MORE

Louise Annarino

March 8, 2012

 

When I attended the University of Cincinnati College of Law 1st year law students were not permitted to work; they had to devote full time to their studies. The Assoc. Dean granted me “special permission” to work. It was the only way I could afford to pay tuition,rent etc. Books were not a problem. I simply bought them as soon as they appeared on the shelves, read them within the 1st ten days of classes and returned them for full refund, after outlining each chapter. One does what one must. Most students had parental or spousal help. Those whose parents were poor, who were unmarried and in debt from undergraduate school were on our own, accumulating even more debt, but rich in dreams.

 

I first worked for the university in a federally subsidized job until funds were cut off. Next I worked for the I.R.S., driving to its Kentucky warehouse, 30 minutes south of Cincinnati off I-75, for a 3p.m. to 1a.m. shift. When the shift was extended to 3 a.m. it became even more difficult to tay awake through my 8 a.m.- 1p.m. classes. One morning, as I was leaving for my Saturday 9 a.m- 3 p.m. shift, my back went into spasms after bending over to pick up a carton of yogurt for my lunch. I could not stand upright. The pain was too severe.

 

After examining me my doctor asked with whom I was so angry that I wanted to hit him. The muscles one would use to strike out at someone or something were clenched tight. I explained my landlord had warned me that he would evict me should I entertain my African-American boyfriend in the future. Since he lived in Columbus and we both worked so many hours we rarely saw one another. During his recent and first visit, I was in Kentucky working most of the time. Since my landlord lived above me (I rented the lower level of his home), he knew who my few guests were. I wanted to hit my landlord, but knew I could not. Cheap apartments within walking distance of school were nearly impossible to find, especially after the semester started. I walked upright and pain free out of the doctor’s office after, protecting himself with a large pillow, he encouraged me to hit him as hard as I could, imaging he was my landlord. Not speaking out, not striking out, against injustice and racism is harmful. It is too high a price to pay.

 

But this was not the most significant discussion I had with the doctor. When he listened to my frustrations, he asked what I thought was a strange question, “Why do you hate money?” I assured him I did not. He assured me that anyone who worked so hard as I did, with the level of education and intelligence I had, should not be poor. Therefore he explained I was avoiding becoming rich. The proverbial light bulb opened my vision into my motives and I realized he was right. Growing up, I saw how disinterested persons of wealth were in my family and my neighbors in the south side of town near the railroad tracks. I saw how the wealthiest people in town disdained my neighbors and my neighborhood. I knew first hand how difficult it was to escape poverty, as rich people grasped all they could to keep it from my grasp, doling out pennies they earned off my labor and keeping rolls of dollars for themselves. I did not want to be like them. The doctor offered a simple solution. Don’t. Get rich and give it all away. From that moment on it became a goal to give away all I could earn.

 

I no longer dislike rich people. I put aside my prejudice that day in the doctor’s office, and opened my heart to many wonderful rich people. Not all rich people are greedy. Most are kind-hearted. Most are generous with their time and money. Our cities would not be able to survive without their generosity. But the rift between rich and poor is widening and the fear each group has of the other is less easy to control. This is a situation ripe for political manipulation. We see it every day.

 

Some Democrats mistrust President Obama because he works so closely with bankers, brokers, and business leaders. Some Republicans mistrust President Obama because he works so closely with Acorn, Planned Parenthood, and the NAACP. Palestinian supporters mistrust him when he has discussions with AIPAC; and Israel’s supporters mistrust him when he holds discussions with Arab leaders. It goes on and on. The truth is, he works with everyone who offers ideas to build an America of future promise. How can any problem be solved without talking to all parties to a solution? Must we continually let our fears and prejudices impede pragmatic and lasting outcomes? Are we so blind to the interest of others that we can no longer see our own interest? That is where I once was, and it nearly brought me to my knees. The doctor was right. I needed to  speak out and fight for my interest, but without disparaging those who had already figured that out. Rich people. So, stop blaming President Obama for opening our eyes to uncomfortable truths. Poor people need rich people. Rich people need poor people. America needs each of us, working together.President Obama represents all Americans, rich and poor. He should work closely with both. Thank you Mr. President. Do not bow before the weight of our prejudice. We cannot pile that on your shoulders. We need to carry it ourselves , or discard it and stand tall, ready to solve this nation’s problems alongside you.

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