Tag Archives: politics

BORN IN THE USA, PART 3

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Americans’ willingness to bully has always seemed to this second generation Italian-American to be part and parcel of Manifest Destiny, American Exceptionalism, America First, the KKK, The American Conservative Council, ALEC, the Heritage Foundation, MAGA movement, and now the Trump Administration bolstered by SCOTUS, Homeland Security, DOJ and FBI. Individuals within each organization are not necessarily racist, misogynist, Christian nationalists. There are men and women who love our country and only want to serve their nation. But, they are now being swallowed up as the separation of powers, using an immune to lawful control unitary executive pushed by Republican appointees to the Supreme Court, destroys their dedication to facts and the law as guiding principles. Even the military leadership is decimated by firings and forced retirements. Even retirees like Commander and Senator Mark Kelly, and Lt. Colonel and Senator Tammy Duckworth are under attack by the nation they most ably served. What will new recruits do? What pressure will they face as they are asked to obey unlawful orders, as they watch Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth execute such orders with full support of Vice-President J.D.Vance and congressional Republicans? 

In the past, we overlooked weaknesses in our leaders so long as they served the common good, in recognition of their humanity and acknowledging human foibles. There were checks and balances on human ill will and human error. We joined one another, citizen and new immigrant alike, in creating a democratic republic with global vision. We envisioned a world at peace where children could learn what they needed to know to be successful; where business and commerce could thrive; where ownership of resources was put to the common good. We built railroads, a national highway system, flood control projects, an energy grid, the internet, and now artificial intelligence. 

We have been far from perfect, or even rational, but we kept trying to make a “ More Perfect Union.”  We faced down our demons of racism and sexism under pressure of freedom-seeking Americans like W.E.B. Dubois, Ida Wells, A. Phillip Randolph, Ralph Abernathy, Ruby Bridges, Julian Bond, Bayard Rustin, Jo Ann Robinson, Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King, Jr., Malcolm X, and Congressman John Lewis…among thousands. Their struggle and ours continues. 

It is no coincidence the four persons arrested for protesting at a white nationalist church pastored by an I.C.E. field officer in Minneapolis were African-American, including two journalists: Don Lemon and Georgia Fort. U.S. Asst. A.G. who oversees the civil rights division of the DOJ reposted a tweet referring to journalist Lemon as “ today’s clansmen.” An AI meme is circulating showing Don Lemon in chains as if he were a fugitive slave reclaimed by paid by bounty hunters. I.C.E. agents today are being paid bounties. Killing two white protesters, Rene Good and Alex Pretti while continuing to brutalize people of color stood out to white America. The arrest of Black journalists restored the racist narrative that people color are a always a threat to white America. Soon, the secret police paramilitary created by the Trump Administration will attack Haitians in Springfield, Ohio whose protected status will be allowed to expire under Republican-led House and Senate Leaders Johnson and  Thune. Will white America see this for what it is? Will they connect the dots to understand the effort to divide and conquer all protesters- Black and white, and destroy the momentum which could sweep the fascists from office in coming elections? Seizure of Fulton County Georgia’s ballots has no legal benefit to the DOJ and FBI. But, if unopposed creates the narrative that seizing ballots is the usual course of election security. It is the exact opposite. It is dangerously erosive to election integrity.

In law, evidence must be held within the chain of command. Break the chain and the evidence is useless. It cannot be used easily, if at all. It will face “objection” if a party tries to in introduce it at trial to support a legal claim. Why? Because it is assumed it will be compromised. Ballots seized in a broken chain of command become a disinformation tool, a grand lie as they are altered and manipulated by those who seized them. We must object, not because we are in a court of law; but because we are in a court of public opinion. Our opinion counts as we protest. It counts even more when we vote.

I grew up in a neighborhood with bullies shouting and shoving at “dirty Catholic”, “dirty Italian” little girls. I went to a school where bullies painted Nazi insignia on the walls of the gym. I walked home form early dismissal when President John F. Kennedy was assassinated to smirks and chants from public school kids across the street “We finally killed that Catholic bastard.” I cannot remember a time when I have not been called a Commie-pinko leftist for teaching Black History and creating Black History programs. Like one out of four women I have even been sexually assaulted by bullies. Bullies cannot silence truth-seekers, journalists, educators, civil rights activists, people of color, women. They cannot be allowed to steal our votes, whenever they are cast. They cannot stop us. They have militarized the effort to stop us. They have arrested, disappeared, brutalized and killed. It will never be enough to break Americans and their insistence upon the freedoms guaranteed by a beloved Constitution and Bill of Rights. We stand together, stronger and more sure of our love for our country.

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BORN IN THE USA, Part 2

WWII Era Bark Print from Tonga, Tonga. Photo by L. Annarino

These war buddies who mourned those buddies who died in combat, and who treasured those who sat with them in solidarity at our kitchen table, shared more than stories. They shared themselves. Mom and I quietly listened, staying in the background, granting them sacred space.

My dad did not collect war trophies. He collected books and papers, which I read and pored over. My favorites were a book telling the history of the USS South Dakota, and one illustrating the flags of every nation. The first spoke of valor and patriotic duty fulfilled by every sailor aboard. The second helped Dad identify incoming planes, separating enemy from ally. I considered this a most useful tool; one I employ to this day, always searching out tell-tale signs of enemy incursion into my life and the lives of others. It may be one reason I eventually became a lawyer whose favorite tool is cross-examination. I am always looking for the “false flags” flown by lawyers, newspersons, politicians and servants of the people. There have been too many lately.

I read Dad’s folder containing assignment memos and his letters of commendation, held his battle ribbons and medals in my hands, marveling at the battle stars gleaming dully after being carried through the war. I have the Tongan Island bark tapestry he bought from the King of Tonga in exchange for a case of beer he hauled from his ship onto the beach where Tongan women were making such artistry.

My father fought his way through WWII. When he finally returned to his Ohio hometown, my pregnant NYC Mom in tow, he had a new fight on his hands. The fight of all first generation immigrants to find a way to support his family, and protect other such families living in pockets of real estate abandoned by earlier immigrants; along industrial-polluted rivers, smoky rail-road tracks, and industrial waste areas.

Dad and his brothers, who had served in the US Army as cooks joined their brother, excused from duty because of tuberculosis, and a cousin; and opened a restaurant. This restaurant was not a food truck as today’s start-ups. No, they found a vacant alleyway between two buildings, put sawhorses covered by planks between the two buildings, collected a grill and started cooking. They hung supplies held by ropes strung between the two buildings. They soon had enough money to add a roof, then a floor. Eventually they had a full-service restaurant a block long and alley-wide with a half-block long bar and side booths. the space behind held two separate dining rooms, a butcher shop, walk-in freezer, walk-in refrigerator, kitchen and dish-wash area, and storage rooms above and below. 

These Italian-American men supported their families; and fed the homeless, emergency workers in the event of community storms, floods, and fires. They cooked for the church and seminary fund-raisers. They contributed in every way they could to the welfare of every person in the community. New immigrants are grateful and hard-working in ways earlier arrivals to our shores have long forgotten. I remember.

My cousins and I spent hours at the Center Cafe, sitting in the family booth or behind the bar talking to our great-uncle with a cauliflower ear about his award-winning boxing career.  Dad hung a boxing bag inside our garage and bought us boxing gloves. I sparred with my older brother and punched along with the boys. As a female lawyer, when that was a rarity, I happily and effectively sparred with boys in and out of court. Sicilian and Italian men love their women and make sure they are safe and can defend themselves. 

Sitting behind the bar selling candy bars for my Catholic elementary school was fun. Dad instructed me to count how many beers a man consumed, and not to approach him until he had had 2-3 beers. He concluded I would sell more candy that way. I always won a prize for selling the most candy. Dad knew how to buy and sell. Living on a salary of $50 per week his entire work life meant he had to stretch every penny to rear 4 children and send them all to Catholic school. We kids all worked from childhood on to buy comic books, ice cream and penny candy. Later, to pay tuition, go to the dentist, buy clothes, books and phonograph albums. We all contributed because we were a family.

The best part of hanging out in the restaurant was listening to patron conversations, especially listening to the men at the bar. All classes of people ate there. Families felt comfortable bringing their children to a place where drunkenness was not allowed. Dad and his brothers knew their customers who became family to them. I watched Dad order cabs and send men home after ‘cutting them off’. He called wives to explain what to expect, assuring them the salary earned that day was still in their husband’s pocket.

I listened to lawyers, judges, CEOs, insurance agents, grocers, plumbers, factory workers, mechanics, gas station owners et al whose faces and voices I recognized because they came every day for breakfast, or lunch, or after-work drinks before heading home. What a cacophony of human behavior and community thoughts were shared between booths and bar. All orchestrated by Dad and his brothers. The music of the masses sang out for all to hear, if they were listening. It still does. If we listen. And we must listen, looking and listening for false flags.

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DAWNING

Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com

I have been carried over mountains

dredged in gold

by sunlight’s curve of light

as dawn unfolds

and opens her arms,

and gently releases her hold

on earth’s many charms.

The wonders of my world shift

within my sights

in bits and pieces set adrift

until I string them together like jewels

to hang around my neck

and light the darkest days ahead.

Indeed, dawn’s delights

can lighten even the darkest nights

in waking dreams sensing the coming light.

Dawn works her tentative way

across this bleak space every day.

Dawn awakens an eagerness to find my place

among other beings also lit from within.

Together, we can light the entire world.

It is dawn. We have dawned. 

It is time to begin.

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BIRDS OF A FEATHER

I envy those still able to place words on a page.

I hesitate at what I might say to display my rage.

Silence is its own subtle, harmful, deadening cage.

I refuse to become like you – a killer 

of all that is good, all that is free, all that is true.

I refuse to become like you – a silent witness

of all that is evil, all who are held in bondage, 

all of the lies which rely upon you.

I refuse to become like you – a sycophant

in silent praise of racist, sexist, xenophobic chant

by tiny minds, fattened by greed, with tiny hands

grasping for the sacred trust, and pedophilic lust

most hide from civil and moral view.

I refuse to become you – a lost boy

in Never-Never Land, fearful and confused,

afraid to grow up, preferring to fly high

above those you believe inferior

so that you can feel superior.

I know who you are; and so, do you.

I refuse to become you; and so, extend a hand

to help you settle down upon a branch of freedom.

It is weakened; it is true.

But still strong enough

with love enough

to hold us…together.

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KILL THEM ALL?

Fraud plot in which some Somali immigrants participated? All Somalis are garbage so get rid of them all.

Criminal activity in which some African-Americans engage? All African-Americans are garbage. Get rid of them all.

Investigations and questions by journalists you find troublesome? All journalists are garbage. Get rid of them all.

Some women refuse your advances and sexism? All women are garbage. Get rid of them all.

Venezuelan boaters survive an illegal attack at sea? All Venezuelans are garbage. Get rid of them all.

Democrats pass legislation restricting corporate greed? All Democrats are garbage. Get rid of them all.

Military heroes remind military personnel to refuse unlawful orders? All military and veterans are garbage. Get rid of them all.

CEOs defraud, overcharge for goods and services, underpay workers? All CEOs are garbage. Get rid of them all.

Some White people commit crimes? All white people are garbage. Get rid of them all.

Some men abuse and rape women? All men are garbage. Get rid of them all.

Some bankers hide criminal gains, make money off the deposits? All bankers are garbage. Get rid of them all.

Hate has no logic except its power to destroy.

Hate has no reason except its delight in abuse.

Hate has no goodness in thought or in deed.

Hate is a damning influence and creed.

Hate is the one thing no one needs.

Some people hate? All people are garbage. Get rid of them all.

Hate until no one is left alive, no one at all.

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BALANCE OF POWER

Photo by Yan Krukau on Pexels.com

Nature restores balance

upset by human hands

on air and sea and land.

Government becomes unbalanced

when leaders fail to understand

no government can serve us

when controlled by a single man.

No single party can control

a seamless governance of the whole.

Power unbalanced is doomed to fail.

History and Nature tell the tale.

Diversity is the golden rule of life,

counteracting hidden strife

as it strives to interact and share

what keeps the planet alive and fair,

what makes us glad to be alive.

Cooperation is not just wise.

It is the seed of all that grows.

It is the only means Nature knows

to grow the wheat and the rose,

to water the farmland and dry the bog,

to cool summer heat and fire winter’s log,

to spread seeds on the breeze of dawn

and weight the wind blowing too strong.

We have run away from Nature far too long.

We have forgotten to listen to Nature’s song.


We have been singing a discordant tune

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to instruments so loud, the song is ruined.

But Nature always restores balance.

It is the base note of Nature’s parlance.

Take off your shoes and walk in the grass.

Feel the freedom you feared lost in the past.

Turn your face into the wind and hold tight.

Feel the freedom you feared lost beyond your sight.

Wade in puddles catching raindrops on your tongue.

Feel the freedom you feared lost and with hands wrung.

We fear we have no way to save our nation.

But Nature gives us a new generation

every spring and through every season

Nature restores our world and our reason.

Balance of Power is the song of the hour.

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MAGA CIRCUS

MAGA CIRCUS

The clown leads the circus parade

Following the elephant ahead,

Carrying shovels to clean up the way,

And invite us under the tent.

The clown interrupts each display

Of circus performers’ great feats.

The clown make us laugh to distraction

And keeps us in our seats.

The clown is what we best recall,

For memories are short.

We may not remember what we see.

But, we remember how hard we laughed.

The circus is not a school to teach.

The circus is a business to empty our pockets

Until it once more moves on.

The circus is not a church where we pray.

But a place we feel it is okay to play.

When the tent stakes are pulled and the circus train pulls away

All that remains is an empty field

Trod into mud on rainy days.

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MY FELLOW AMERICANS

MY FELLOW AMERICANS

I hold my tongue.

It takes strength I do not have.

Whimpers escape

On shattered breaths,

In silent screams.

The fight worries my soul,

Battle weary and choking,

On words held tight inside.

Once the scream begins

I doubt I could stop.

I wait for your speech.

I yearn for your promise

To stop the authoritarian

Who has taken over our house,

Emptied its vaults,

Stolen its wealth,

Sold its power

To the highest bidders.

So, I write. That I can do

While I wait for you.

To me, this nothing new.

Do you believe me now?

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IT IS ALWAYS IN THE NUMBERS

Reports indicate attendance at NO KINGS events is somewhere between 5.2-8.2 billion persons. It is possibly much larger than any assumed count. For example. If one counts those registered with organizations who counted attendees, one simply gets a flat number of those who bothered to join through the organization. I registered and reported my attendance. By the time I attended three more persons joined me. They remain uncounted officially. I am sure this is true for families and friends of most attendees.

In the past, for individual rallies, law enforcement using drones mapped the crowd and made estimates using “so many persons per square inch” of their photos to create crowd attendance figures. While major big cities may have done so, mine did not. Local news did not. nor did Law enforcement in my locality. I am certain this happened in much of small town America. So when these numbers are posted, assume they are sorely undercounted. 

Nevertheless, no matter the total count, the wide extent of events across the country in red and blue states and cities, in small hamlets, on rural roadway intersections, outside nursing homes and senior care facilities is significant. And, such small groups are likely not part of the count. Yet, the fact they showed such resilience and disgust for what is happening and took to the streets gives us cause to hope we can face down fascism and remove those traitors to our core American beliefs and to our Constitution from office; from School Board, Board of Health, City and County commissioners, mayors and city council, to Congress and the White House. 

Local politics is sometime hard to unravel, especially for races where platitudes replace true positions and no party affiliation is required. We have tools those who came before us did not have, the internet and email addresses. Ask candidates for specific position statements. If they do not answer or provide gibberish, there is your answer. Be an informed voter. Help register new voters. Help motivate and take voters to the polls. We must now march to the polls as we marched through the streets. As Winston Churchill said, “This is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. It is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.” Now, the hard work begins. Please remember the joy you felt on No Kings Day and let it propel you to even greater efforts. We now know for certain, what we believed. We are not alone.

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DECONSTRUCTION

Columbus, Ohio 10-18-2025

The streets were lined for blocks on end.

Signs reminded all who rejoiced to attend

Why they walked and talked and smiled and waved

At passing cars who braved delays

While drivers honked horns and shouted out

“Vote him out and make it a rout!”

Costumed critters danced to our delight

Knowing their freedom would give him a fright.

Deconstruct the lies we have been told.

Deconstruct the narrative being sold.

Deconstruct the bullie’s hold.

Deconstruct institutional mold.

Gather in peace the young and the old.

Stronger are you, more wise, more bold.

Deconstruct so we can rebuild

What he has destroyed with his minions’ lack of skill.

We know how to do this, and more.

We have done it many times before.

Columbus, Ohio 10-18-2025
Columbus, Ohio 10-18-2025
Columbus, Ohio 10-18-2025
Columbus, Ohio 10-18-2025
Columbus, Ohio 10-18-2025
Columbus, Ohio 10-18-2025
Columbus, Ohio 10-18-2025

My thanks to my friends in Clintonville area of Columbus who helped me attend this moment of patriots’ challenge to the con men robbing the USA of its power, wealth, ideals and humanity. The lack of media coverage was appalling. The misrepresentation of attendance numbers cannot be challenged when media fails to provide images of the gatherings. A local station covered it AFTER it was over and crowds had dispersed. Another stated hundreds attended when it was actually thousands. We are here. We are resisting. We are going nowhere until the despotism and kidnapping of people and the Supreme Court, universities, news organizations, social media outlets, medical and public health Institutions… even our very language and the meaning of words and phrases has been brought to an end and freedom restored.

We shall not be silenced.

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