November 2019

For the last three years, the American body politic has been obsessed with foreign election interference. Democrats angry with the results of the 2016 presidential election asserted that Donald Trump colluded with Russia to hack and release emails damaging to the Clinton presidential campaign. Robert Mueller investigated the email hacks as well as a Russian social media troll farm. Republicans, in turn, focused their ire on Clinton’s purchase of a salacious, but factually incorrect, dossier produced by Christopher Steele, a British spy with Russian sources.

During the early hours of September 14, explosions broke out at an Aramco oil field in Saudi Arabia. As the Saudi government rushed to contain the blaze and investigate the attack, a group of Yemeni rebels, known as the Houthis, claimed responsibility for the bombing. Saudi Arabia soon began to suspect, however, that the perpetrator was likely its regional arch-nemesis, Iran, possibly with the assistance of the Houthis rebels [1]. About a day after the attacks, and amidst international oil market chaos, Donald Trump tweeted from his personal Twitter account, "Saudi Arabia oil supply was attacked. There is reason to believe that we know the culprit, are locked and loaded depending on verification, but are waiting to hear from the Kingdom” [2]. This isn't the first time that Trump has come dangerously close to attacking Iran this year, the “culprit,” nor is it the administration's most trivial reason for doing so. And while the Saudis got their fire under control within hours, Trump’s Iran foreign policy is a fire that has been blazing for two-and-a-half years with no end in sight.

Physical security. Mobility. Being able to protect your children. These, among many others, are human rights that Palestinians have been deprived of by the Israeli occupation. All people, Jews and non-Jews have the right to live with jurisdiction over their own lives, contrary to the state of Israel’s discrimination against non-Jews. Criticisms of the state of Israel’s human rights violations are not synonymous with criticism of Jews for being Jewish, or anti-Semitism. There’s a heavy weight associated with not being in control of your own future; a very human, very real suffocation linked with finite horizons. Advocacy for this human right is the stewardship of all people, for all people, Jews, and non-Jews alike. The mental illness crisis in Palestine is a result of not having control of one’s own future. Some severe traumas are illustrated by Israeli imprisonments, and fettered mobility are among the evidence for Palestine leading the Middle East in mental illness disorders [1].

Recently, some have questioned if the LGBT+ moment is over. For a few years, it seemed like LGBT+ rights were the hot button issue. Then, in 2015, the U.S. Supreme Court handed down the Obergefell decision, legalizing same-sex marriage nationwide, and President Barack Obama lit the White House in rainbow to celebrate. Since then, the issue seems to have diminished in prominence. In the 2019 Democratic presidential primaries LGBT+ issues have been notably absent from the debate stages, and yes, you read that correctly, the Democratic primaries. Instead they were relegated to a town hall-style event for which only nine of the candidates appeared. [1][2] Startlingly, in June of this year, The Atlantic published a prominent piece entitled, “The Struggle for Gay Rights is Over.” [3] All of these signs are a manifestation of the rising suspicion that LGBT+ Americans have attained their goals. After all, what is left to accomplish? While tempting, and perhaps even appealing to some, this idea is dangerous. There is a lot left to be reformed both culturally and legally before LGBT+ individuals are treated as equal citizens.

The framers get credit for building a foundation of government that limits corruption through a refined system of checks and balances. Still, none of the branches are party-proof, and an increase of polarization causes even the judicial branch, meant to be “above politics,” to fall subject to the partisan battlefield in our country today.

Last month, an unexpected courtroom scene took place. Eighteen year old Brandt Jean, brother of Botham Jean, stepped down from the witness stand to embrace Amber Guyers, the woman who killed his brother [1]. One late night earlier this year, Guyers walked into the apartment of Botham Jean, thinking it was her own. Alarmed at Jean’s presence, Guyers shot him twice, killing him in his own home. In what some are calling a racially motivated act of violence, this courtroom moment of mercy soothed tensions—if but for a moment [2]. In an America where 71% of Blacks and 56% of Whites feel that race relations are generally bad, a courtroom scene like this is uncommon. [3]. But moments like the forgiving embrace between Jean and Guyer do not have to be few and far between.

Every summer, thousands of interns flood Washington D.C.: crowding the metro, the security lines outside of government buildings, and the checkout of the local Trader Joe’s. As an intern for a Congressman on Capitol Hill, I earned the extra title of “Hilltern” (Hill+intern) that carries a positive or negative connotation depending on who you’re talking to.

My dad bemoans the fact that millennials are overrunning his office with their “bring your dogs to work day,” in-office yoga sessions, fascination with music festivals, and determination to save the world--one reusable bag at a time. It’s not that my dad is opposed to saving the world; he is, in fact, a brilliant, good man. But our generation has been socialized to have an entirely different type of awareness. We pride ourselves on being “woke,” giving voice to the voiceless, and doing something that matters. We sign up to teach English an ocean away, we routinely check the Wall Street Journal notifications on our phones, and we repost mental health discussions for ourselves and for the people we love. I’m sure that I could find empirical evidence in one form or another to support this next statement, but with or without the numbers I’m convinced: our generation cares about a lot of things that are bigger than us. No one can reasonably argue that all of our motivations to do good are entirely altruistic, but surely we deserve some credit for our attempts. That being said, while we pay a lot of attention to the grand, overarching injustices in our world, we often fail to take advantage of more proximate opportunities. As proximate, in fact, as your very own skin.

During the 2004 Democratic primaries, The New Yorker ran an article about the two Democratic frontrunners, John Kerry and Howard Dean. In the article, they write that Democratic voters were “seeking above all this year a candidate who can beat Bush” [1]. Dean represented the anti-war, anti-establishment outsider who tapped into voters’ frustrations, while Kerry, with twenty years of experience in the foreign and domestic policy better fit the “cold calculus of electability.” Ultimately, Kerry’s impressive resume secured him the nomination, but he lost.

Late one night when I was in high school, my father (the police chief of our town) walked into the house covered in mud & sweat - he had just hurt his elbow going after an armed suspect who ran into the marsh. Battered and exhausted, he took a shower, and went back and forth with my mom about whether or not to go to the doctor. The next morning, when I woke up, he had already made us breakfast, walked the dog, and was ironing his uniform, getting ready to go to work. This kind of quiet strength was commonplace in my home, and I had the blessing of being raised by someone who taught me what character really was.