I've been moving slowly of late due to my increasingly feverish efforts to secure a job and help shoulder the cost of necessities that my poor boyfriend has been having to deal with here on his own. As a result, I'm only pecking at the keys when I'm about to rip my hair out in frustration over being both broke and unable to find a job, no matter who shitty. Since I don't have time to say very much I'm going to pass along some links from bloggers and websites that say a lot and say it all very well. Here's a short roundup of stuff I've been reading:
---> Child poverty, appallingly high among people of color and Latinos.
---> Homelessness in current recession hardly over.
---> European Banks in trouble.
---> Basically why you should give a shit about redistricting.
---> SEC Conflict of Interest in Madoff Case.
---> Wall Street Managing to Gain Victories Against Reform.
---> A Page of Useful Numbers Pertaining to the Recession.
---> Homophobes being Homophobes in NYS
---> Sexist Assholes being Sexist Assholes in America.
---> America Pretending to be Post-Racial.
---> This. I don't know why.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Teen Suicides, Part II
The death of Jamey Rodemeyer surprised me when I read about it, probably because he lives not far from where I grew up. And yet it is because I grew up in that area that I should not have been surprised at all.
I organized the Day of Silence for my high school when I was junior. In the days leading up to it, I had asked faculty members I was close to if they'd be willing to put up posters, wear buttons and otherwise help out as Allies. Most of them agreed but one of them stopped and talked to me at length about how the homosexual lifestyle was unhealthy and he couldn't in good conscience help the cause or show support in anyway. Not wanting to push my luck and risk pissing off a member of the faculty, I let it go. I also didn't bother asking those members of the faculty who I knew to be staunch conservatives out of fear that they would have a similar reaction, or that they would, as a group, do something to stop the DofS.
In spite of this, there was a lot more support and participation among my peers than I had ever anticipated. Surprisingly a lot of them were eager to be allies, even if that meant they just wore the badge and lent support to people who chose not to speak that day. It was pretty inspiring, even if I did get called a "dyke" once or twice. In fact, it was so inspiring that, even though I was pissed off that someone had said that to me, my next immediate thought was that he was the minority in that school and he wouldn't dare announce it in forum (yes, my high school had a forum. It was twice a week after first period).
As it turns out, I was pretty wrong. Apparently after I left a friend of a friend took over organizing the DofS for the school. Other students then took the silence of participants as an opportunity to rail against them, tell them they were going to hell for being homosexuals, and otherwise treat them like shit. I'm not sure if they were trying to force them to speak or if they just did it on that day specifically because they didn't want to deal with retaliation.
I think people assume that because New York tends to vote democrat that we don't have to worry about bullying the likes of which compelled Jamey Rodemeyer to take his own life, but there is no place in America that is immune to it. People are especially quick to pretend it isn't happening in the northeast, because we don't exactly fit the bill for "gay-bashers" but they're there, and they weren't transplanted from other parts of the country. They were born and raised in the area. I think it's likely that the reason they still exist at all is because no one bothers taking a hard look at what they're saying or what they're doing. Now is a good time to start paying attention, because it's becoming more and more apparent that these are not pockets or communities of people who don't affect the larger group. This is a widely spread mind-set that crops up all across America, and we need to deal with it head on.
It's painfully important that we talk to students about this. I've heard claims made by politicians (Bachmann, no surprise) that bullying is part of growing up and to legislate in any way against it is ludicrous. This is clearly beyond bullying--this is threatening, this is extraordinarily painful, this is forcing kids who may already have a support network to kill themselves in spite of it.
And anyone who can look at the suicide of any child and scoff is not fit to be a leader. So lets stop sending the wrong message to our nation's vulnerable youth by electing them to office.
I organized the Day of Silence for my high school when I was junior. In the days leading up to it, I had asked faculty members I was close to if they'd be willing to put up posters, wear buttons and otherwise help out as Allies. Most of them agreed but one of them stopped and talked to me at length about how the homosexual lifestyle was unhealthy and he couldn't in good conscience help the cause or show support in anyway. Not wanting to push my luck and risk pissing off a member of the faculty, I let it go. I also didn't bother asking those members of the faculty who I knew to be staunch conservatives out of fear that they would have a similar reaction, or that they would, as a group, do something to stop the DofS.
In spite of this, there was a lot more support and participation among my peers than I had ever anticipated. Surprisingly a lot of them were eager to be allies, even if that meant they just wore the badge and lent support to people who chose not to speak that day. It was pretty inspiring, even if I did get called a "dyke" once or twice. In fact, it was so inspiring that, even though I was pissed off that someone had said that to me, my next immediate thought was that he was the minority in that school and he wouldn't dare announce it in forum (yes, my high school had a forum. It was twice a week after first period).
As it turns out, I was pretty wrong. Apparently after I left a friend of a friend took over organizing the DofS for the school. Other students then took the silence of participants as an opportunity to rail against them, tell them they were going to hell for being homosexuals, and otherwise treat them like shit. I'm not sure if they were trying to force them to speak or if they just did it on that day specifically because they didn't want to deal with retaliation.
I think people assume that because New York tends to vote democrat that we don't have to worry about bullying the likes of which compelled Jamey Rodemeyer to take his own life, but there is no place in America that is immune to it. People are especially quick to pretend it isn't happening in the northeast, because we don't exactly fit the bill for "gay-bashers" but they're there, and they weren't transplanted from other parts of the country. They were born and raised in the area. I think it's likely that the reason they still exist at all is because no one bothers taking a hard look at what they're saying or what they're doing. Now is a good time to start paying attention, because it's becoming more and more apparent that these are not pockets or communities of people who don't affect the larger group. This is a widely spread mind-set that crops up all across America, and we need to deal with it head on.
It's painfully important that we talk to students about this. I've heard claims made by politicians (Bachmann, no surprise) that bullying is part of growing up and to legislate in any way against it is ludicrous. This is clearly beyond bullying--this is threatening, this is extraordinarily painful, this is forcing kids who may already have a support network to kill themselves in spite of it.
And anyone who can look at the suicide of any child and scoff is not fit to be a leader. So lets stop sending the wrong message to our nation's vulnerable youth by electing them to office.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
No Surprise, Bachmann Doesn't Consider Suicide Epidemic a "Federal Issue"
MoJo posted an article yesterday about Bachmann's reticence to discuss the youth suicide epidemic in her own district. In case you aren't aware, the suicides are almost all the result of anti-gay bullying in schools.
When asked about it she replied that it "isn't a federal issue."
Bachmann has a long history of civil rights abuses against the LGBT community--For instance, her husband's mental health clinic advocates the notion that you can "pray the gay away," and she actively worked to bar legislation that would prevent anti-gay bullying in schools. For whatever insane reason, she believes that homosexuality is wrong and unhealthy and won't lift a finger to protect citizens in her district who are gay from being harassed. Lately she's gone silent on the issue, possibly because it's becoming increasingly apparent to the GOP that anti-gay rhetoric is toxic to young voters, or maybe because her particular brand of anti-gay rhetoric is a hell of a lot worse than most of the other republican contenders for the presidency. To be sure, they pretty much all think gay marriage is wrong, but not all of them pretend that when a homosexual teen commits suicide they were brainwashed by the homosexual community to do so in order to advance the "homosexual agenda."
Given her stance on the rights of LGBT citizens, is it really that surprising that Bachmann doesn't consider this a federal issue? I think her reasons for overlooking the epidemic are two fold: First, she doesn't want to get into the problem her district is facing because it will almost certainly make her look bad. She might be completely insane (and stupid) but now that she's running for the republican presidential nomination, she must have advisers who wisely suggest that she stay away from her usual conspiracy laden tirades against the LGBT community. Second, Bachmann presents herself as a Tea Party member, and as such, she purports leaving things like anti-gay legislation up to the state. As far as she's concerned, the government shouldn't impose it's "morality"upon the states (though she clearly has no problem doing that when the federal government's morals align with her own). Instead each state should be allowed to decide for itself how it will treat its residents--Thus, because there are enough people in that district in Minnesota who think homosexuality is a punishable offense she feels justified in her continuation of treating it as such.
She might be a psycho-bitch, but she's playing this hand about as well as she can. She's managing to spin an incredibly draconian social arrangement into an issue of "liberty" such that disagreeing with her makes you an opponent of freedom.
Ah, American politics, is there anything you can't do?
When asked about it she replied that it "isn't a federal issue."
Bachmann has a long history of civil rights abuses against the LGBT community--For instance, her husband's mental health clinic advocates the notion that you can "pray the gay away," and she actively worked to bar legislation that would prevent anti-gay bullying in schools. For whatever insane reason, she believes that homosexuality is wrong and unhealthy and won't lift a finger to protect citizens in her district who are gay from being harassed. Lately she's gone silent on the issue, possibly because it's becoming increasingly apparent to the GOP that anti-gay rhetoric is toxic to young voters, or maybe because her particular brand of anti-gay rhetoric is a hell of a lot worse than most of the other republican contenders for the presidency. To be sure, they pretty much all think gay marriage is wrong, but not all of them pretend that when a homosexual teen commits suicide they were brainwashed by the homosexual community to do so in order to advance the "homosexual agenda."
Given her stance on the rights of LGBT citizens, is it really that surprising that Bachmann doesn't consider this a federal issue? I think her reasons for overlooking the epidemic are two fold: First, she doesn't want to get into the problem her district is facing because it will almost certainly make her look bad. She might be completely insane (and stupid) but now that she's running for the republican presidential nomination, she must have advisers who wisely suggest that she stay away from her usual conspiracy laden tirades against the LGBT community. Second, Bachmann presents herself as a Tea Party member, and as such, she purports leaving things like anti-gay legislation up to the state. As far as she's concerned, the government shouldn't impose it's "morality"upon the states (though she clearly has no problem doing that when the federal government's morals align with her own). Instead each state should be allowed to decide for itself how it will treat its residents--Thus, because there are enough people in that district in Minnesota who think homosexuality is a punishable offense she feels justified in her continuation of treating it as such.
She might be a psycho-bitch, but she's playing this hand about as well as she can. She's managing to spin an incredibly draconian social arrangement into an issue of "liberty" such that disagreeing with her makes you an opponent of freedom.
Ah, American politics, is there anything you can't do?
Monday, September 19, 2011
Am I the only one...
The reaction for the audience when he asked "Should society let him die?" was worthy of the outrage that it received, but personally I'm really pissed off that that question was even put in front of Ron Paul, a staunch libertarian.
First of all, the entire rhetorical machine of the GOP and libertarians alike is that in a free market, everyone will be able to purchase goods and services that best suit their needs and income brackets. As such, the way that they understand the current health insurance set up is that if you're an American, you choose which health insurance provider to use and that's that. Anyone without health insurance simply chooses not to have it.
This, of course, is an absurd assertion. Health insurance is almost prohibitively expensive and providers are notorious for finding reasons not to insure potential consumers. They usually point to 20-somethings as the prime example of their "you choose not to have access to healthcare" argument, because chances are very few young adults have pre-existing conditions that would disqualify them. And yet, a lot of 20-somethings go without. Why?
Because health insurance is really fucking expensive and we can't afford it, rent, clothing and food all at the same time.
So when Wolf Blitzer described a healthy man who simply chose NOT to have health insurance, he might as well have handed Ron Paul a free pass on this issue. If he had chosen a hypothetical situation that was closer to reality like "Citizen A can't afford health insurance because she works part time and cannot find a full time job, though not for lack of trying. Citizen A gets hurt at work, which doesn't provide health insurance since she isn't a full time employee. If she doesn't receive treatment at the hospital, she'll become either very sick or she will die. What do you, as a policy maker, do about that?"
It isn't a choice for a lot of Americans not to have health care. Why would we consciously decide that we preferred to be barred access to medical treatment? And why doesn't anyone bother asking these assholes that question when they've got them in front of an audience?
"There are risks with freedom," says Ron Paul. What he should have said was "Giving giant corporations unlimited freedoms puts many of our citizens at grave risk." Hell of a lot closer to the truth.
Monday, September 12, 2011
No, You Aren't a Psychiatrist "bro."
I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. For whatever reason, I didn't take the diagnosis seriously at first. I resisted medication and treatment, but continued to see my psychologist because I knew that something wasn't right. Though she was the one who handed down the diagnosis that I didn't believe, I trusted her. I liked her. I had seen psychologists prior to her, but they had all been male and they made me uncomfortable, which makes sense given my history (well, that and the first psychologist I saw told me that I had nothing to worry about because I was "a gorgeous and intelligent young woman" which put me off trying to get help for another two years).
My psychologist was supportive of my decision not to immediately take up her diagnosis. Like I said, I trusted her. I told her everything, including my apprehension about the diagnosis and my subsequent negative reaction to medication. She didn't press me to change my mind. She didn't nag me. She didn't talk down to me. She listened quietly to all of my concerns and then gently began explaining what OCD really is and why she felt that I should try the medication (but also that it was ultimately my choice). Because of her approach and because she framed OCD in a way that made a hell of a lot more sense to me than the recurrent popular culture definition and portrayal of it, I went to see a psychiatrist she had referred me to. She made sure the psychiatrist was also female. I liked my psychiatrist. We saw each other four times before I finally agreed to start taking medication.
I think that these two women helped me enormously at a time when I really, desperately needed help. They were the kinds of doctors that perfectly fit my needs (and I think that they would still if I were still in the area). When I went back to school I started seeing another pyschologist who was similarly wonderful and really opened herself up for me in terms of support and the time she was willing to give me. I was sent to a psychiatrist who would continue to write my prescriptions for psych meds that, as it turns out, were as helpful as the time I spent with the psychologists themselves.The medication was enormously useful. It helped me. I felt better for the first time in years.
I was reluctant to take the medication at first because I had heard horror stories from so many other people that they knew someone who was prescribed psych meds who were seriously harmed by them. I had been told that psychologists and psychiatrists don't actually care about their patients, but instead prescribe them medications and toss around diagnoses on a whim. But none of that fit into the experience I had with my doctors and I gradually managed to shed this bias against psychiatry in general. Looking back on it, I feel like a complete idiot, but there are lot of people who still find it appropriate to keep on insisting that psychiatry is wrong.
The entire time I was going through treatment, I was semi-open with my diagnosis. I figured it was a big part of me, and that in a lot of ways the OCD informed parts of my personality. I told my closest friends and some of my family members when it became relevant. My new roommates knew. I was okay with it. A lot of them were really supportive.
But then I started paying closer attention to the things that outsiders were saying, and I became more and more confused about the public perception of both psychiatry and OCD.
I was an undergraduate at the time, and I was studying Philosophy and English Literature simultaneously. I concentrated in Medieval Literature as far as my lit. degree went and so I didn't run into anyone who bothered to make sweeping generalizations about the practice of psychology. But for whatever reason, it seemed to crop up with some frequency in Philosophy. I don't know if it's because sometimes people think that Philosophy=New Age and so they enroll in courses thinking they'll be treated to any and all of the alternative theories to EVERYTHING they've read so much about on the internet, but there seems to be at least one person in every course who has to bring up something about science and/or psychiatry that is patently false.
I think the most unsettling objections came during Senior Seminar in Philosophy, when two of my peers would insist both on our class's online forum as well as in person during class time that the health sciences are wrong. Period. One babbled on about how Native Americans didn't take depression seriously and that they were the better for it, while another claimed with tenacity that any and all of our discomforts are the direct result of not being in tune enough with nature. Given the fact that I actually have a mental disorder (AND my boyfriend is a type I diabetic, which is definitely not caused by a lack of touch with nature), I was really put off by these people and felt nothing but contempt for them. Ordinarily I would ignore them as they are obviously sadly misinformed. However, it occurs to me that they don't realize (and probably never even think) about the negative effect they might have on vulnerable people who are on the verge of seeking help.
Psychiatric disorders are things you are expected to be ashamed of. You aren't really allowed to talk about them earnestly, especially not with other people. You are, however, allowed to have an opinion about them, provided it's subversive.
I became more open about my OCD precisely because of these people and I met many more. They tried to engage me in finding "the root" of my problem, explaining that I would never be helped by my medication after a certain point. They'd claim that it stops working because the real cause of my disorder is not chemical or biological: It's the result of some traumatic event that I've blocked out of my mind, and had I tried hypnosis?
Look,"bro." You are not a fucking psychiatrist. I'm aware of the traumas I've suffered, and yes, I've talked about them in depth my psychologists. They do, in fact, think that my experiences in the past have something to do with my OCD. They also think I have PTSD. But to try to tell me that I'm not managing my mental illness the correct way because you happen to have a pseudo-political disagreement with it is insulting AND it's dangerous. You do not try to talk a patient out of treatment, particularly not when that treatment is effective and ESPECIALLY if you are not a doctor.
On top of this, there are some really batshit insane assumptions about OCD that I have been confronted with (in fact, some of them are the reasons why I didn't believe I had it to begin with). I've been told by lay people that there is no way I have OCD, because they watched Monk and I don't behave like he does. I have also been told that I'm lucky to have OCD because I have some sort of magic psychological drive to do the best I can in everything I do (like OCD is an amphetamine or something). Both of these assumptions are false. I've been told that if I went into computer programming, I'd do really well because they need obsessive people. I've been told that if I was really OCD, I would not have quit smoking cigarettes.
I don't intend to explain what my OCD is like, and it's worth noting that like Bipolar Disorder, people DO experience it differently. To provide a full and comprehensive explanation of it would take a lot longer than I care to right now. But, I accept the fact that I have OCD. I'm just completely bewildered by how many other people don't, both on the basis of what they think OCD is and on the basis of what they think psychiatry is. And I wonder, is this purely a cultural phenomenon? Is it unique to the United States? Why do we have such a terrible outlook on psychiatry and psychiatric disorders?
My psychologist was supportive of my decision not to immediately take up her diagnosis. Like I said, I trusted her. I told her everything, including my apprehension about the diagnosis and my subsequent negative reaction to medication. She didn't press me to change my mind. She didn't nag me. She didn't talk down to me. She listened quietly to all of my concerns and then gently began explaining what OCD really is and why she felt that I should try the medication (but also that it was ultimately my choice). Because of her approach and because she framed OCD in a way that made a hell of a lot more sense to me than the recurrent popular culture definition and portrayal of it, I went to see a psychiatrist she had referred me to. She made sure the psychiatrist was also female. I liked my psychiatrist. We saw each other four times before I finally agreed to start taking medication.
I think that these two women helped me enormously at a time when I really, desperately needed help. They were the kinds of doctors that perfectly fit my needs (and I think that they would still if I were still in the area). When I went back to school I started seeing another pyschologist who was similarly wonderful and really opened herself up for me in terms of support and the time she was willing to give me. I was sent to a psychiatrist who would continue to write my prescriptions for psych meds that, as it turns out, were as helpful as the time I spent with the psychologists themselves.The medication was enormously useful. It helped me. I felt better for the first time in years.
I was reluctant to take the medication at first because I had heard horror stories from so many other people that they knew someone who was prescribed psych meds who were seriously harmed by them. I had been told that psychologists and psychiatrists don't actually care about their patients, but instead prescribe them medications and toss around diagnoses on a whim. But none of that fit into the experience I had with my doctors and I gradually managed to shed this bias against psychiatry in general. Looking back on it, I feel like a complete idiot, but there are lot of people who still find it appropriate to keep on insisting that psychiatry is wrong.
The entire time I was going through treatment, I was semi-open with my diagnosis. I figured it was a big part of me, and that in a lot of ways the OCD informed parts of my personality. I told my closest friends and some of my family members when it became relevant. My new roommates knew. I was okay with it. A lot of them were really supportive.
But then I started paying closer attention to the things that outsiders were saying, and I became more and more confused about the public perception of both psychiatry and OCD.
I was an undergraduate at the time, and I was studying Philosophy and English Literature simultaneously. I concentrated in Medieval Literature as far as my lit. degree went and so I didn't run into anyone who bothered to make sweeping generalizations about the practice of psychology. But for whatever reason, it seemed to crop up with some frequency in Philosophy. I don't know if it's because sometimes people think that Philosophy=New Age and so they enroll in courses thinking they'll be treated to any and all of the alternative theories to EVERYTHING they've read so much about on the internet, but there seems to be at least one person in every course who has to bring up something about science and/or psychiatry that is patently false.
I think the most unsettling objections came during Senior Seminar in Philosophy, when two of my peers would insist both on our class's online forum as well as in person during class time that the health sciences are wrong. Period. One babbled on about how Native Americans didn't take depression seriously and that they were the better for it, while another claimed with tenacity that any and all of our discomforts are the direct result of not being in tune enough with nature. Given the fact that I actually have a mental disorder (AND my boyfriend is a type I diabetic, which is definitely not caused by a lack of touch with nature), I was really put off by these people and felt nothing but contempt for them. Ordinarily I would ignore them as they are obviously sadly misinformed. However, it occurs to me that they don't realize (and probably never even think) about the negative effect they might have on vulnerable people who are on the verge of seeking help.
Psychiatric disorders are things you are expected to be ashamed of. You aren't really allowed to talk about them earnestly, especially not with other people. You are, however, allowed to have an opinion about them, provided it's subversive.
I became more open about my OCD precisely because of these people and I met many more. They tried to engage me in finding "the root" of my problem, explaining that I would never be helped by my medication after a certain point. They'd claim that it stops working because the real cause of my disorder is not chemical or biological: It's the result of some traumatic event that I've blocked out of my mind, and had I tried hypnosis?
Look,"bro." You are not a fucking psychiatrist. I'm aware of the traumas I've suffered, and yes, I've talked about them in depth my psychologists. They do, in fact, think that my experiences in the past have something to do with my OCD. They also think I have PTSD. But to try to tell me that I'm not managing my mental illness the correct way because you happen to have a pseudo-political disagreement with it is insulting AND it's dangerous. You do not try to talk a patient out of treatment, particularly not when that treatment is effective and ESPECIALLY if you are not a doctor.
On top of this, there are some really batshit insane assumptions about OCD that I have been confronted with (in fact, some of them are the reasons why I didn't believe I had it to begin with). I've been told by lay people that there is no way I have OCD, because they watched Monk and I don't behave like he does. I have also been told that I'm lucky to have OCD because I have some sort of magic psychological drive to do the best I can in everything I do (like OCD is an amphetamine or something). Both of these assumptions are false. I've been told that if I went into computer programming, I'd do really well because they need obsessive people. I've been told that if I was really OCD, I would not have quit smoking cigarettes.
I don't intend to explain what my OCD is like, and it's worth noting that like Bipolar Disorder, people DO experience it differently. To provide a full and comprehensive explanation of it would take a lot longer than I care to right now. But, I accept the fact that I have OCD. I'm just completely bewildered by how many other people don't, both on the basis of what they think OCD is and on the basis of what they think psychiatry is. And I wonder, is this purely a cultural phenomenon? Is it unique to the United States? Why do we have such a terrible outlook on psychiatry and psychiatric disorders?
Sunday, September 11, 2011
On the Political Appropriation of 9/11
With its tenth anniversary coming up, there's been a lot of discussion about 9/11, about what it meant for the security of America, what we lost, what we learned, and what it did as a whole to our collective idea of "America" as an entity. In the last ten years we've all watched as politicians used the events of this day ten years ago for their own ends. Notably, there has been a lot of insistence that the attacks on the Pentagon and the WTC were larger attacks on America (which is absolutely true), and that Americans as a whole were affected.
But how were they affected? Certainly we were all a lot more afraid of the world outside our borders, but the overarching message that was constructed immediately following the attacks, that America is some organic unity held fast by our bonds as citizens quickly eroded in the years that followed. We became afraid not only of the world outside our borders, but of the citizens we hitherto hadn't paid much attention to. Suddenly we employed terrible racial epithets toward ANYONE who appeared Middle Eastern on a mass scale and all but declared open season on unchecked hostility toward foreigners of Middle Eastern origin.We also agreed that extreme invasions of privacy were entirely warranted, thereby casting aspersions on the citizens who had previously been our closest and most trusted friends and family in the days following the attacks.
And yet at the same time, domestic terrorism perpetrated by white Americans like Timothy McVeigh became a distant memory as greater and greater numbers of citizens began to suspect that any and every Muslim was capable of orchestrating another catastrophe (ahem). This sort of footwork enabled us to keep on peddling the "All of America was affected by 9/11" rhetoric without seeming to actually deprive American citizens of any of their rights because we began profiling and vilifying specific ethnic and cultural groups. They became the enemy and Americans began to regard them as potential threats, only posing as American citizens.
Of course, this is an old, old process that has probably gone on as long as the idea of a unified, homogenous society has existed. But I find its application this time of year troubling, probably because of the fact that we did very little as a society to ensure that the people who were the most affected by the attacks on September 11 were well cared for mere days following the collapse of the towers in lower Manhattan. What's more, those family members of 9/11 victims who opposed the war on terror were openly mocked and insulted.
For workers who breathed in the contaminated air resulting from the collapse, it was a long uphill battle before they were finally granted the right to receive affordable health care to treat the illnesses they had incurred as a direct result of responding to the crises before, during and/or after the collapse of the buildings. What's more, the EPA was pressured to lie about the quality of the air in lower Manhattan, urging residents of NYC to return to work in the financial district on Sept. 17 in spite of the fact that the air was seriously contaminated with dioxins.
According to Mother Jones and ProPublica (linked directly above), there was a political push immediately following the attacks to get back to some semblance of normalcy as soon as possible. Since NYC became symbolic of the larger attack on America, then to them I suppose it followed that NYC's immediate and visible recovery was the most important image to broadcast to the rest of the world, thus proving our resolve as a people.
And so, they sacrificed the health and safety of countless more residents of a city that already bore the brunt of the attacks without their knowledge and certainly without their consent. Local health officials were cautious and did their best to protect their own, but the federal bodies on scene did little to help (IE letting clean up workers elect to don respirators that ought to have been mandatory for the sake of their health).
This flies in the face of the idea that we all came together, that upon reflecting on the events of 9/11 we can all recognize that we are united as citizens. It's just really fucking insulting that the federal government actively suppressed information that would have spared hundreds of city workers from illness because they responded to a crisis that directly affected them, their families, friends, their homes and their psyche's. Meanwhile, those same federal officials guilty of having done so steadfastly maintain that we stay the course, all the while bending 9/11 and the patriotism we happen to feel whenever we reach back and think about it into something that it simply was not and is not. The same is true of our current slew of politicians and pundits.
9/11 is highly politicized, and I know that that's to be expected. But because this is the tenth anniversary I want us to really think about what that politicization means. While you're doing that, here's some reading to help you out.
But how were they affected? Certainly we were all a lot more afraid of the world outside our borders, but the overarching message that was constructed immediately following the attacks, that America is some organic unity held fast by our bonds as citizens quickly eroded in the years that followed. We became afraid not only of the world outside our borders, but of the citizens we hitherto hadn't paid much attention to. Suddenly we employed terrible racial epithets toward ANYONE who appeared Middle Eastern on a mass scale and all but declared open season on unchecked hostility toward foreigners of Middle Eastern origin.We also agreed that extreme invasions of privacy were entirely warranted, thereby casting aspersions on the citizens who had previously been our closest and most trusted friends and family in the days following the attacks.
And yet at the same time, domestic terrorism perpetrated by white Americans like Timothy McVeigh became a distant memory as greater and greater numbers of citizens began to suspect that any and every Muslim was capable of orchestrating another catastrophe (ahem). This sort of footwork enabled us to keep on peddling the "All of America was affected by 9/11" rhetoric without seeming to actually deprive American citizens of any of their rights because we began profiling and vilifying specific ethnic and cultural groups. They became the enemy and Americans began to regard them as potential threats, only posing as American citizens.
Of course, this is an old, old process that has probably gone on as long as the idea of a unified, homogenous society has existed. But I find its application this time of year troubling, probably because of the fact that we did very little as a society to ensure that the people who were the most affected by the attacks on September 11 were well cared for mere days following the collapse of the towers in lower Manhattan. What's more, those family members of 9/11 victims who opposed the war on terror were openly mocked and insulted.
For workers who breathed in the contaminated air resulting from the collapse, it was a long uphill battle before they were finally granted the right to receive affordable health care to treat the illnesses they had incurred as a direct result of responding to the crises before, during and/or after the collapse of the buildings. What's more, the EPA was pressured to lie about the quality of the air in lower Manhattan, urging residents of NYC to return to work in the financial district on Sept. 17 in spite of the fact that the air was seriously contaminated with dioxins.
According to Mother Jones and ProPublica (linked directly above), there was a political push immediately following the attacks to get back to some semblance of normalcy as soon as possible. Since NYC became symbolic of the larger attack on America, then to them I suppose it followed that NYC's immediate and visible recovery was the most important image to broadcast to the rest of the world, thus proving our resolve as a people.
And so, they sacrificed the health and safety of countless more residents of a city that already bore the brunt of the attacks without their knowledge and certainly without their consent. Local health officials were cautious and did their best to protect their own, but the federal bodies on scene did little to help (IE letting clean up workers elect to don respirators that ought to have been mandatory for the sake of their health).
This flies in the face of the idea that we all came together, that upon reflecting on the events of 9/11 we can all recognize that we are united as citizens. It's just really fucking insulting that the federal government actively suppressed information that would have spared hundreds of city workers from illness because they responded to a crisis that directly affected them, their families, friends, their homes and their psyche's. Meanwhile, those same federal officials guilty of having done so steadfastly maintain that we stay the course, all the while bending 9/11 and the patriotism we happen to feel whenever we reach back and think about it into something that it simply was not and is not. The same is true of our current slew of politicians and pundits.
9/11 is highly politicized, and I know that that's to be expected. But because this is the tenth anniversary I want us to really think about what that politicization means. While you're doing that, here's some reading to help you out.
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