It's race, but it's more than race

A young man walking down the street scuffles with a police officer. The young man is shot dead. The police officer is white, the victim is black. It turns out the victim is unarmed.

Someone calls the police and says there is a young man playing with what is probably a toy gun in a park. The police arrive and within seconds the young man (a boy, really), is shot dead. The police officer is white, the victim is black. The victim is armed only with a toy.

A young man is pulled over. When asked for identification he turns and reaches into his car. The young man is shot. The police officer is white, the victim is black. The victim is unarmed.

A man is stopped and questioned by the police on the street. He is wrestled to the ground in a chokehold, and dies. The police officer is white, the victim in black. The victim is unarmed.

A man is questioned by police for suspicious behavior. He runs, the police officer catches up, they scuffle. The man is shot and killed. The police officer is white, the victim is black. The victim is unarmed.

I am sure that if I looked I could find dozens of other examples from this year, which all follow the same basic blueprint: there is a white police officer, there is a black man, the black man commits no violent offense but ends up dead nonetheless.

In 2011 in the United States, there were 404 deaths at the hands of the police. In Germany and England and Wales and Australia combined there were fourteen deaths at the hand of the police. Those countries combined have roughly half the population of the United States. We had twenty-eight times more deaths by police.

So there is a problem in America; a big, ugly, awful problem. Like any problem it can't be solved without knowing the reason.

It's not guns. The US has about 88 guns per 100 people; Switzerland has about 45. I can't find any information on police shootings, fatal or otherwise, in Switzerland, which makes me think it's not a problem there, though their police are routinely armed.

It's not population. The Albuquerque Police Department fatally shot and 23 individuals between 2010 and 2014, while in the same time period there were less than three fatal police encounters in all of England and Wales.

The argument that it is race is certainly compelling, looking at cases that get public attention, but actual statistics are hard to come by. There are, however, countless studies that support the idea that this is a racial problem. It's not even worth debating that racism is still deeply and profoundly ingrained in American culture.

But to say it's a race problem feels, to me, as if it is still missing the point, because the problem isn't race. We, as Americans, cannot allow this to be a race problem, because that by definition makes it a bigger problem for one slice of society than for the rest.

On some levels it is, of course. I'm a 28 year old woman. When I walk down the street in America, I do not fear that the police will unduly hassle me, because I am white and I am female and therefore I am not seen as a threat. I'm not saying that if I waved a gun - real and operational, or otherwise - in front of a police officer I wouldn't get shot. But I would have to demonstrate something like a threat in order to face that risk. My existence, my presence in a public space, is not read as a threat (and that, in case you are wondering, is a textbook example of the oft-discussed and oft-questioned 'privilege').

On other levels, it shouldn't be. I should not be safer from the police for any reason other than 'not being a criminal', because people who are actively demonstrating not just criminal but potentially lethal activities should have reason to fear for their lives at the hand of the police. If there is not a reasonable cause to believe that I am trying to kill or maim someone else, there's no reason I should have any concern whatsoever that the police will hurt me.

It's not a race issue, it's a police issue. It's an all of us issue.

It's rapidly turning our society into an us-vs-them situation, where us is citizens, law-abiding or otherwise, and the them is the police.

The police exist for one reason, and one reason only: to protect the population. They are not here to uphold any sort of agenda other than the laws as decided by the judiciary and the legislature. Needless to say, this process should be blind to all but one issue, and that is whether you are committing a crime. Even then, if the police see you stuffing packets of Oreos into your pants at 7-11, or think you were selling something you shouldn't have been, or  doing any number of a million crimes that do not in any immediate threats to anyone else's life, they should not be using lethal force. No one is being saved by that lethal intervention; they're just taking away.

No one should be afraid of the police. That's literally the opposite. The police should be a reassuring presence. They should make me and you and everyone else feel safe, but increasingly, they do the opposite. When the police become a force to be opposed on principle, your society has real, big, serious problems.

On Ferguson, and many ideas of "innocence"

Two more people were killed by the police, this time in Chicago. 

In the UK in 2013, the police fired three shots. Total. Across all of the United Kingdom, over 365 days, the police fired off three rounds, and managed not to kill anyone. 

So America has a problem. Maybe it's a race problem, maybe it's a gun problem, maybe it's a police problem. I don't know; I'm inclined to believe it's a combination of all of the above and then some, but particularly the third one. 

I'm a middle-class white female and as such can go through life without being afraid of the police. Intimidated, yes. Distrustful, yes. But I'm not afraid of them, because no police officer is going to glance at me and make a split-second decision that I'm a threat based solely on my appearance. 

I don't know what happened in Ferguson when Darren Wilson shot Michael Brown, because I was not there. I have no idea what sort of person Michael Brown was, nor do I know what sort of person Darren Wilson is. They may be saints or sinners but probably they're pretty much like the majority of people: generally pretty decent, but not flawless. I'm sure both of them have made mistakes in life. I'm sure there were people who love them both, people who are are absolutely devastated by what's happened and by what's happening. 

What I do know is that Michael Brown is dead, and Darren Wilson is on paid administrative leave. That's not fair, but nor is life. 

Here's what else I know: after shooting and killing a man, Darren Wilson was not handcuffed and put in the back seat of a police car. He, apparently, did not write a report on the incident. He was not fingerprinted, he did not have a mug shot taken, he was not put in a cell. He was taken to the hospital, and then placed on paid administrative leave, and he is now keeping an understandably low profile. 

We're told that this is because of course the police have rights as individuals as well; that Darren Wilson, like anyone, must be assumed innocent until proven guilty. 

Imagine I - an unthreatening, 5'1 tall caucasian female, shot someone or was accused of shooting someone. It's specific to New York, but Legal-Aid kindly outlines what I can expect when I am taken into police custody: I will be handcuffed. I will be taken to a police precinct. I will be searched, and my personal belongings will be taken from me and held until I am released. I will be fingerprinted and photographed. The police may or may not question me. I will, in New York City, likely be in 'processing,' in a cell at the local precinct, for anywhere from four to six hours. Then I will be taken to Central Booking. There will be long waits, up to twenty-four hours, before I go before a judge for my arraignment. 

The difference in those procedures is why parroting that Darren Wilson's treatment is justified under the presumption of innocence is disingenuous. Of course he is to be presumed innocent, just like anyone else. But the treatment of a police officer in his situation is so staggeringly different from the way an average citizen is treated in the same situation that it's impossible not to feel like something has gone very wrong in the system meant to protect us. 

"Abortion-causing drugs"

Missouri state representative Paul Wieland is asking the courts to exempt his family from the contraception requirement of the state insurance plan.

Now, I'm not entirely sure what that means, legally: I guess he wants his family to not have coverage for contraception while under the state plan. This strikes me as asinine because - well, you can have good insurance that covers all sorts of things and just not use those things.

But beyond that very broad issue, there's this quote:

“I see abortion-inducing drugs as intrinsically evil, and I cannot in good conscience preach one thing to my kids and then just go with the flow on our insurance,” said Rep. Wieland, who has three daughters. “This is a moral conundrum for me. Do I just cancel the coverage and put my family at risk? I don’t believe in what the government is doing.”

Okay. For everyone who never took high school biology, or didn't pay attention, or went to a crappy school, let's break this down.

There are drugs which induce abortions. Probably most well-known of modern abortifacient is mifepristone, or RU-486. This drug, in high enough doses, induces abortions. For abortions, it's typically used in conjunction with another medication.

Mifepristone can also be used as a contraceptive, if taken after sex and before ovulation. It's not 100% understood, but most studies point to it preventing ovulation, rather than preventing implantation. When used in that way, it is no way an abortion-causing drug, because there is nothing to abort. The general path is intercourse and correctly-timed ovulation leads to the union of sperm and egg. Several days later, the fertilized egg attaches (or implants) on the uterine wall, and fetal development begins. If the egg does not implant, as it often doesn't because that's just how nature is, there cannot possibly be an aborted pregnancy because there is no pregnancy.

Now, let's talk about hormonal contraception, which is what most people probably think of when they think of what sort of contraceptives insurance pays for. The most commonly used is a pill taken orally, but there's also patches, vaginal rings, injections and implantable birth control devices (both a small plastic device that can be inserted just under the bicep, and an intra-uterine device). There are dozens of varieties on the market, but ultimately they all function on more or less the same mechanism: by introducing estrogen and/or progesterone type hormone into the body, they prevent ovulation and/or thickening cervical mucus to prevent sperm from reaching an egg to fertilize it.

These drugs may have some effect on the uterine lining, but there is no evidence that these changes actually prevent implantation.

So to say that the birth control medications that your insurance covers are "abortion-causing drugs" is, quite simply, completely and totally untrue. You cannot induce an abortion if there's no pregnancy.

I can't help but feel that if Mr. Wieland and those who share his attitudes took a basic high-school level biology course, they would, perhaps, feel slightly more at ease with the state of the world.

More on McPay

Regarding the McDonald's prepaid debit card as a 'paycheck', a woman in PA is suing McDonald's franchisees for paying her with a prepaid card. The card carries fees including $1.00 to check your balance, $1.50 to withdraw cash at an ATM, and $15 if you need to replace your card.

If there is a dollar charge for a balance inquiry, that functionally means the worker needs to pay in order to ensure that they've been paid.

This is why we need unions and labor laws.

McBudget

(Yes, I'm apparently back from the dead.)

McDonalds and Visa have teamed up to create a website advising McWorkers on how to best manage their money. Lovely, right? It has advice for saving for a car, creating a budget, and tips on why your Visa-branded preloaded debit card is so much better than an actual paycheck.

...Okay. Problem number one: paycards. Most of them charge fees for doing all sorts of things you take for granted if paid via check or cash or direct deposit, like getting cash from an ATM. And you're a lot less likely to be able to save if first you need to get your money off a piece of plastic, then put it in the bank.

Regardless, that's not the biggest problem. Here is the biggest problem:

There's...a lot to say about this (for example, I'm now working two jobs! Awesome). But some of the really glaring problems: 

1) McDonalds apparently does not think 'food' should be a regular item on a monthly budget. But I probably qualify for food stamps, so I guess I just won't ever buy anything SNAP doesn't pay for, like a fast-food meal. 

2) Sure, $600 may get you a decent place, either one-bedroom or with a roommate in some places. But do you live in a big city? Enjoy your closet!

3) Health insurance: $20. If I recall correctly, the "we'll maybe pay something out after the $2500 deductible, unless it's a, b, c, d....or x. Y and Z we'll pay for" insurance policy I had for a while was maybe $200/month? (My parents paid; that's why I could afford it.)

4) Heating: $0. We we're living somewhere without winter. 

I get that it's an example. But you know what would set a better example, McDonalds? Paying your employees a living wage! Pay them enough so that they can reasonable work one full-time job, and still afford luxuries such as heat and food and health care! 

Meanwhile in America:

Women are not objects.

For some reason, I woke up thinking about Mitt Romney's "binders full of women" comment, and it was a short hop from thinking I can't believe he said that to Why is that so incredibly offensive? Then it clicked.

Romney was talking about working to get women more involved in politics. This is essentially a good thing, because women are grossly underrepresented in politics. I think there are maybe some issues in the overall methodology, because sometimes men working to help women isn't the best way of doing it, but that's all little issues on the side. More women in politics? Great. So they're trying to get women into politics, and someone brings Mr. Romney binders full of them.

I have a binder full of paper within arm's reach right now. Notes on a chemistry course, if you're curious. I know people who have other binders full of paper. Or of baseball cards. Maybe some 90's diehards have binders full of pogs. Whatever. The point is: we have binders full of things, and women are not things.

They brought Romney binders full of women to potentially fill important positions and in doing so reduced these women to objects used to fill a vacancy, rather than qualified people looking for jobs. You have binders full of resumes, not of the people themselves, because people aren't things.

There's a lot of overlap here with something else that has been bugging the crap out of me: breast cancer awareness month. It's October, and you may have noticed a plethora of pink, everywhere. Pink for the cure. Pink for awareness. This bugs the crap out of me for a couple reasons, not least because profiting from the nebulous idea of cancer awareness is gross. You want to cure cancer? Let's talk about increasing funding to Planned Parenthood, where they very routinely screen for both cervical and breast cancer (and, for that matter, administer the HPV vaccine, which can prevent cancer).

But here's the other thing: things like Save the Ta-Tas. Things like the t-shirt I've seen a picture of saying "Save Second Base".

Breast cancer is not about breasts. It is, obviously, a cancer that begins in breast tissue. But it does not affect only breasts, because 99% of the time those breasts are part of a woman, who is a human being.

My grandmother had breast cancer. She survived. She survived a lot of things and passed away last year at the age of 90. Obviously, yes, I'm sure she had some cosmetic concerns about the surgery to remove the cancer, but you know what? She was a hell of a lot more concerned with saving her life than with saving her breasts. This is because my grandmother, like every woman, was a whole person who was more than the sum of her anatomical parts. She was still a whole, complete person after breast cancer, because she was considerably more than a pair of breasts. She was a chef and a baker and a gardener. She loved shopping and she traveled the world and she made sure she always had sugary cereal for the visiting grandkids. My grandmother, in short, was a person. She happened to be a person with two X chromosomes and a person who had a significant percentage of her breast tissue removed, but she was still a real person.

My grandmother would not fit in one of Mitt Romney's binders, because she was a person. The doctors did not successfully save her boobies, but they saved her life.

We need, as a culture, to stop treating women as if we are items. Getting women into politics matters not because you must have so many of Type X widgets in order to fill the quota, but because women are people who make up 50% of the population. We need to fight breast cancer not because it destroys breasts but because it kills women (and, occasionally, men). We can't continue to define women by their parts or by their otherness to men, because that assumes men are the norm.

ACHB

Ray Bradbury passed away this past week, which is really sad but also sort of really isn't. It's sad because, well, now we live in a world without Ray Bradbury and he will never write anything else for us to read, ever.

But it's not, because Ray Bradbury will never die. As long as there's someone who's read his work still kicking he's quite alive, because his words were alive.

The first Bradbury story I ever read was "All Summer in a Day." For some reason I want to remember having read it in a late-elementary school literature textbook (those terrible ones that collect short stories and awful abridged versions of great novels and slap terrible illustrations in, under the impression that children cannot read without pictures), but that seems an improbable place to find such a story. Regardless, the story has never really faded from my mind: I was overwhelmed by how despite it's quiet tone and despite all the play in the story it was impossibly dark.

Mr. Bradbury saw and unflinchingly painted the senseless cruelty of children.

Maybe a year or two later I came across a somewhat tattered copy of The Illustrated Man. I began reading and did not set the book down until I had finished it. The stories were delightfully, unrelentingly dark. I had already discovered science fiction and was just beginning to explore horror and these stories did something incredible: they combined conventional science fiction's starry-eyed hope and optimism with a gritty look at human's self-destructive nature. These weren't stories about how technology and exploration would save humanity; they were about how technology and exploration would provide so many ways to continue our path of self-destruction as a society and as individuals. He showed me that science fiction could be full of hope and wonder towards the future, or full of wary caution, or sometimes even a bit of both.

I grew up on a steady diet of science fiction and, if asked to name who invented science fiction, who dug up the clay and lovingly sculpted it and watered it and breathed life into it, I would answer thusly: Verne and Wells made the clay and it lay dormant before being discovered by Asimov and Clarke and Heinlein, who shaped it and made it come alive, and it was Bradbury who set it free, who sent it galloping out under the power of it's own free will to inspect and explore both the shining pinnacles and  gritty caves of our world.