Esther J. Cepeda

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Welcome to Esther J. Cepeda's archive of columns published by The Washington Post Writers Group and other publications. 

 

Follow Esther on Twitter: https://twitter.com/estherjcepeda

 

 

 

Why public school lunches are a feminist issue

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO -- You'd be surprised how many books have been written about school lunches. I feel like I've read them all -- usually during my short teacher's lunchtime, cowering over a pastel-green plastic tray upon which some form of cold, semi-gelatinous institutional slop was assembled to look like food.

Last week I was primed for a conversation with Jennifer Gaddis, the author of "The Labor of Lunch: Why We Need Real Food and Real Jobs in American Public Schools." I had just eaten a lukewarm cheeseburger (the cheese was totally unmelted) and then moved on to the accompanying banana, since I couldn't stomach the wilted iceberg lettuce that was called "salad" or the soggy, undercooked fries that came with the "meal."

But the public-school culinary experience isn't what makes Gaddis' new book important. It is required reading for anyone who wants this part of our students' school day to be nourishing -- not only for the kids, but for the women who feed them.

"So much of the work of feeding children is gendered -- the majority of workers in food service, especially frontline food service, are women," Gaddis told me. "Whether it's happening at school or in the homes of the millions of students who take lunch from home to school, feeding students is typically done by women."

In her book, Gaddis tells us the remarkable history of the lunch program -- and its roots as not solely a social good for impoverished children, but as a time-saving convenience service for the upper-middle-class ladies who pushed for programs and initially funded them.

"People put [the school lunch program] at having started in 1946, and it's true that that's when legislation passed to create federal support for the program. But it actually took 50 years of organizing led by women who were up against school boards that were made up almost exclusively of conservative men who believed that giving poor children free food would only encourage lazy parents to become dependent on the state."

Sound familiar?

What the ladies had working in their favor, however, was the cultural movement toward cleaner food that was spurred by new scientific research on food storage and preparation methods and public health concerns from dirty and lead-infused food as described in Upton Sinclair's "The Jungle."

Like today -- when the clean eating movement is butting up against Pinterest feeds dedicated to artistically presented boxed lunches with gendered kiddie themes -- Gaddis explains that among the well-to-do there was a certain level of social pressure to send kids to school with "healthy" lunches.

But even back then, making them was a time-suck for moms. Wasn't there a better way?

Enter cheap, female labor.

"School lunch programs have never been really good, quality jobs for women, though back in the day they were considered a good job for mothers because the part-time hours aligned to their children's school schedule," Gaddis told me. "But there has always been an assumption that the work is so close to mothering -- an unpaid form of labor -- that these jobs have never been considered to need, or to offer, a living wage."

Our whole concept of what school lunch could be would have to change in order for this country to find the political will to revamp and fund more delicious, healthier, locally-sourced school lunches: ones that offer economic opportunities to everyone from farmers to cooks, to the ladies who serve the children during what is often students' favorite part of the day.

"This is something that requires investment, but it's not rocket science," Gaddis said. "Feeding children is something that we should be proud of. It should provide high-quality food and good jobs that appeal to people. But what's standing in the way of that, at least in part, are the huge industrial food companies who recognize that school districts are going to scoff at the kinds of major front-end investments required to change their food systems. So instead they offer food that has characteristics that make it seem like an acceptable substitute for fresh, local food -- chicken tenders instead of chicken nuggets. But buying 'better' mass-produced food is not the same as cooking real food, on-site."

Like many of my contemporaries, I came of age at the time when women who had spent decades making food in real kitchens were being fired from careers as cooks and rehired (at minimum wage) to unpackage and microwave food packets for kids.

And now I understand why some of them seemed so bitter.

Esther Cepeda's email address is estherjcepeda@washpost.com, or follow her on Twitter: @estherjcepeda.

(c) 2019, Washington Post Writers Group

 

 

Backlash against Castro highlights the double standard people of color are held to

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO -- As I was chatting with the young man ringing up my purchases at a big-box store last week, he forgot to scan the microwave in my cart. I told him that although I would love his mega corporation to give me a free appliance, I'd be paying on this day. We shared a chuckle.

Moments later, the greeter stopped me at the exit and asked to check my receipt. My husband, who is white, said to me, "What are the chances that the greeter would have checked your receipt the one time you accidentally hadn't paid for a big-ticket item?"

I glared.

My response to his naive comment was: "Only someone who rarely gets asked to validate a purchase would say that -- I almost never get out of this store without having my cart items checked against my receipts. Do you want to guess why?"

I don't usually have to play a spirited game of "Spot the White Privilege" with my husband or sons -- they've seen the disparities in how we're treated in countless situations.

It's everyone else -- those who aren't in a group that our president encourages his fellow white citizens to look upon with suspicion or plain outrage -- who needs double standards and inequities pointed out.

Here's the most annoying one of the past week: the uproar over former Housing and Urban Development Secretary Julián Castro's so-called attack on former Vice President Joe Biden during last Thursday's presidential debate.

In a stunning case of projection by everyone from political commentators to "straight" news reporters, Castro was accused of ageism for questioning if Biden was backpedaling his Medicare stance. At issue was whether Biden would require those who want Medicare coverage to have to "opt in" to the plan or if they would be automatically enrolled and have to "opt out" of the program.

USA Today declared Castro's end of the back-and-forth an "attack" as did Politifact, MSNBC, The Washington Post and countless other media outlets.

Several of those stories included quotes from scandalized innocents who couldn't bear to witness a youngster "talk back" to an elder, (BEG ITAL)on a debate stage(END ITAL).

Paul Begala, who served as a senior aide to President Bill Clinton, tsk-tsked, calling Castro's questioning a "cheap shot."

Former Massachusetts Gov. Deval Patrick called the instance "unnecessary." The Democrat added: "There are differences in how the candidates view their policy choices and their policy proposals, and that is all fair game, but it doesn't have to be trivialized."

Fellow presidential candidate Sen. Amy Klobuchar of Minnesota piled on: "I just thought that 'this is not cool.' ... I thought that was so personal and so unnecessary."

Talk about making a mountain out of a molehill.

The exchange wasn't even all (BEG ITAL)that(END ITAL) heated, frankly. But when Castro uttered the words, "Are you forgetting what you said just two minutes ago?" the commentariat clutched its pearls, because it assumed ill will that Castro never explicitly voiced, and subsequently denied. "I wouldn't do it differently. That was not a personal attack," Castro told CNN the next day.

Would anyone have even blinked had former Texas Rep. Beto O'Rourke or South Bend Mayor Pete Buttigieg couched their comments similarly?

It's doubtful. So much candidate-to-candidate pushback has gone on for the past few months that most people hardly notice or care when it happens.

I'm here to cheer for the Latino backlash to the non-Latino backlash against Castro, which clearly illustrates that the moment a person of color fact-checks someone in real time, they will have projected onto them sinister intentions, unfair play and aggression.

Mayra Macías, executive director of Latino Victory Project, which has endorsed Castro and works to get Latinos elected to public office, told NBC News that Castro's role in the primary campaign has been to push the conversations deeper and hold candidates accountable. Macias noted that Vermont Sen. Bernie Sanders has done it time and again, without scandalizing the masses, as have other candidates.

"When a brown man is calling out a prominent white man, why is there this backlash that I don't think would have happened if Sen. Sanders was the one telling Vice President Biden if he forgot?" Macias said.

The answer is clear: A double-standard against brown people.

In this country, people of color hold certain places in the collective mind. If they aren't criminals, they are subservient; glorified if they "work hard" to overcome systemic racism to scratch out a living.

Rarely are they perceived as smart, energetic and powerful.

All I can say to that is: America, get ready for your worldview to be rocked.

Esther Cepeda's email address is estherjcepeda@washpost.com, or follow her on Twitter: @estherjcepeda.

(c) 2019, Washington Post Writers Group

 

 

 

Democrats need to court Latinos now ahead of 20202

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO -- It might seem obvious that the angst and fear President Trump has stirred up with his thinly veiled verbal assaults on people of color will translate into votes for a Democrat -- anyone but Trump -- but it's just not a slam dunk.

While 62% of U.S. Hispanics say they are certain to vote for a Democratic candidate, a still stunning 22% of Hispanic registered voters surveyed at the beginning of September approved of Trump's job performance, according to a Latino Decisions poll.

Nearly the same percentage said that if they had to choose between Trump, Massachusetts Sen. Elizabeth Warren or New Jersey Sen. Cory Booker, they'd choose the president -- even though the same poll uncovered that 50% of respondents thought Trump and the Republicans are being hostile to Latinos rather than attempting to cultivate their votes.

This will be inconceivable only to those who don't understand that there is no such thing as a cohesive "Latino" community. The Hispanics in this country are as diverse as can be, and they are not held together by language, immigration status or experiences as a so-called minority.

Indeed, we are probably about to witness the growth of both ethnic and political diversity in the Latino community. That's because, since about 2000, the increase in the Latino population has been mostly driven by births, not immigration.

Latino children have been a quarter of all U.S. public school students since about 2016, and, as a teacher, I get to see this diversity. There are children who recently arrived from Latin American countries and those who are the second or third (or more) generation to be born here.

On paper, many of these students can be nearly indistinguishable from their non-Hispanic peers. I have two Latina Hildas in my fourth-grade class, plus a whole crop of Sophias, Olivias and Emmas. The boys are no different; there are multiple Brandons, an Aiden, an Ethan and a Jackson.

Though some of these kids have dark skin and brown hair and eyes, others have lighter features. Either way, growing up as a quarter or more of a classroom has an impact on a student's perception of the power dynamics in a group and in a school building -- it does not lend itself to growing up feeling like a "minority."

This isn't to say that an Americanized name and the privilege of U.S. citizenship would eventually have some sort of automatic correlation with support for the Donald Trumps of the world. But a general friendliness toward the Republican Party has always been a hallmark of Latinos who own businesses.

JPMorgan Chase recently estimated that Latino-owned businesses could, in the near future, potentially add $1.4 trillion to the economy.

That's a lot of Latinos who are probably open to a business-friendly, non-immigration driven agenda pitch from the Republican Party -- if only they'd abandon the immigrant bashing and try a welcoming strategy.

And there is plenty of opportunity.

Nearly three-quarters of respondents, 73%, said that it was even more important to vote in the 2020 election than it was in 2016, making Latinos a prime target for any candidate at any level. It's just a matter of reaching out to them.

I recently listened in on a state organizer-level conference call for a prominent presidential candidate who is hoping to make inroads in Wisconsin. During the 50-minute call, along with ground-level strategy and tactics, one person asked about outreach to the African American voter base. None brought up Hispanics, even though they are now a slightly larger percentage of the state's population than blacks.

That's the story of the Latino voters in America: Ripe for the picking, but they are either taken for granted as a vote for whichever Democrat appears on a ballot or forgotten about altogether.

Is that because in the back of people's mind's they believe the false rhetoric about "most" Latinos here being in the country illegally and therefore unable to vote? Or is there Sleeping Giant fatigue -- people tired of hearing about how important the Latino vote is, but knowing this electorate has yet to punch its own weight?

It hardly matters. What's important is that if campaigns don't start Latino outreach now, they will be squandering an important opportunity with voters who are ready and waiting to be courted.

Esther Cepeda's email address is estherjcepeda@washpost.com, or follow her on Twitter: @estherjcepeda.

(c) 2019, Washington Post Writers Group

 

 

College shouldn't be the only path to success - on Paul Tough's new book

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO -- All of the books by best-selling author Paul Tough have been meaningful to me -- I'm a teacher, and there's nothing an educator loves more than books that offer up a clear, concise answer to the question of how to best help children succeed.

But his latest book is personal. Tough was in the process of researching his now-released "The Years That Matter Most: How College Makes or Breaks Us" when we first talked a couple of years ago about the fact that neither of my sons -- both children of the first in their family to go to college - wanted any post-secondary education.

My younger son had decided to go into welding at around the same time that news headlines were suggesting (erroneously) that welders made $150,000 annual salaries. This was also when Republican politicians started pushing the idea that a liberal arts degree paled in its utility compared with a vocational education.

Tough started checking in with my son and his older brother, a free spirit who never even considered college and who left his home state to work as a short-order cook in southern Oregon while his girlfriend trained to be a doula.

The jury is still out. My older son is now working a career-track restaurant management job, and his brother learned all too well an important detail that Tough uncovers in a chapter dedicated to the welding craze: "One of the many odd things about the rhetoric that posits welding as the antithesis of college is that in order to become a welder, you actually have to go to college."

Tough describes the "13 separate welding courses, starting with basic metal cutting and moving up through stick welding, plate and pipe welding, and glass metal arc welding ... [plus] basic classes in math and English as well as more conceptual courses in welding metallurgy and the symbols and specifications used in blueprints" necessary for an associate's degree at one community college.

Believe me, the papers and tests in general education and discipline-specific community-college courses like Manufacturing Processes -- a class my son returns from at 9:30 at night -- are no less difficult than those found at four-year universities.

And after all that arduous work, if you can't provide a drug-free urine sample for an internship or a job welding at a real factory, then you've wasted your time and money.

And students are increasingly being trained in the skills of adapting to working with robotics and artificial intelligence, not necessarily in using their hands. My son walked away from a post-internship job offer because the painstaking effort of checking a machine's work was simply too boring to contemplate doing for more than a few months.

Though I sincerely hope that some sort of career trajectory will emerge for my welding son -- who actually wants to be a blacksmith but can't fathom having to limit the artistry of the craft to fixing people's fences -- I agree with Tough that the wealthy-welder myth serves the interests of those who'd like to see an academic status quo maintained.

"If we are able to persuade ourselves that there are plenty of lucrative opportunities available for young people [who don't want a traditional college education and] who didn't much like high school, it absolves us of our shared responsibility to address the reality of [such students'] limited economic prospects," Tough writes.

And, by the way, don't believe that welders are better off than philosophy majors -- the $150,000-a-year manual labor job is a myth: "The [welding] salaries that make headlines in The Wall Street Journal are somewhere between rare and apocryphal," Tough writes.

It's a fairytale designed to take our attention off the real lack of lucrative noncollege options available to people who didn't start out as academic superstars: "It provides a way to distract public attention from policy shifts that have made it more difficult for young people [who don't want to study in college] to reach the middle class."

Tough's book arrives at the very moment when both energized voters and presidential hopefuls can be pressed on the question of how they envision policy helping all young people reach for a middle-class life. This includes everyone from first-generation college students who don't have the resources to game the system in their favor to those who feel they have no other recourse than to go into extensive personal financial debt for a degree.

Millions of futures depend on engaging in a vital discussion about future-proofed noncollege options for our young people. Many of us got our shot at aiming for a solid, middle-class life without having to go into student-loan debt. Doesn't the next generation deserve the same opportunity?

Esther Cepeda's email address is estherjcepeda@washpost.com, or follow her on Twitter: @estherjcepeda.

(c) 2019, Washington Post Writers Group

 

 

Along with school supplies, teachers bring to their classrooms plenty of hope and courage

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO -- Contact paper. Plastic boxes for crayons. Damage-free picture hangers ...

If you're a teacher, this list looks very familiar.

Poster frames. Dry-erase markers. Blank self-adhesive labels ... 

These are the kinds of items that don't always make it onto the standard school-supply lists, but we buy them at the start of the school year so that the students streaming into our classrooms for the first day of school can feel welcome and at home. Safe.

Fluffy pillows. Comfy blankets. A few extra granola bars or pretzels for the extra hungry ... 

For some students, school is the only place that will offer two meals each weekday and the support of adults who are able to meet their academic and emotional needs with predictable routines. Other students simply need a place where they can let their intellects loose with the guidance of teachers who are ready to challenge them and allow them to struggle productively.

And that takes love, time, energy -- and money.

In fact, it takes an average of $459 a year, according to the Economic Policy Institute, which took the National Center for Educational Statistics' 2011-2012 Schools and Staffing Survey and adjusted for inflation to 2018 dollars.

This is money we're not reimbursed for. Usually it doesn't even take into account money from our own pockets for candy rewards, small toy incentives and special favors like special pencils, erasers or markers.

And the number fluctuates depending on where you live.

Teachers here in Illinois, for instance, spend a little less, with a state average of $439 a year. Teachers in North Dakota, where the poverty level is slightly under the national average, spend the least out-of-pocket, at $327. California teachers spend the most, at $664.

Not coincidentally, California has one of the highest levels of poverty in the U.S.

Those teachers, I'm sure, are shelling out for all manner of "school supplies" that are outside of the regular realm of loose-leaf notebook paper, pencils and sharpeners.

Last year I bought the following "supplies" out of my own pocket: snow pants, backpacks, stickers for class projects, jigsaw puzzles for students who reported having no educational toys at home, and yarn and hooks for a student who wanted to learn how to crochet but whose parents needed to economize with the family budget.

I bought a supply of petroleum jelly and cotton swabs for mending winter-dried lips that cracked and bled at school.

This year I'll be teaching mostly Latino fourth-grade students, and I don't know what their needs will be.

Teachers never know.

For the most part, classrooms are a mix of students who find school easy, who get along just fine or simply don't need any extra help -- and those who come to school carrying an awful load of emotional or mental baggage that they're not able to articulate on the first day.

The best educators seek to not make such distinctions -- they aim to treat each student as an individual learner and not as the representative of a whole demographic whose income level, immigration status or family history will determine how well they'll perform.

But most of the best -- and even a lot of the middling and worst -- teachers believe that their students are special and worthy of all the little extras that make school a place that can be full of wonder and fun.

Things like themed nameplates, bulletin-board displays and four-color glossy pictures so the kids can see their own faces decorating their classroom walls. Or comfy seats for students to read in so they don't have to sit at their desks all day.

Large zip-top bags. Plastic crates. Electric pencil sharpener ...

This year, I went "back to school" on Aug. 1, with full days of professional development to learn how to better teach reading and math. I also learned how to reach kids who might seem to not care but may actually just be hungry or sad.

But along with protecting students, teachers were also taught to protect themselves. We were shown how to get out of a chokehold, a hair pull and a fist strike in case a student attacked.

Most disheartening was that we were taught that our doors must be closed and locked at all times while we're teaching, in case of armed intruders.

This growing climate of fear nationwide makes the list of back-to-school "must-haves" for teachers both free and quite precious: Empathy. Hope. And a whole lot of courage.

Esther Cepeda's email address is estherjcepeda@washpost.com, or follow her on Twitter: @estherjcepeda.

(c) 2019, Washington Post Writers Group

 

 

Detroit's 'renaissance' masks its pervasive poverty

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO - Detroit, which was settled by French colonists back in 1701, is sometimes called the "Paris of the Midwest."

But while few would see many similarities between Paris and Detroit today, there is one that's consistently overlooked: Like Paris, Detroit has what some locals call an "island of opulence" at its center - namely in the downtown and midtown areas surrounding the Fox Theatre, the new hockey arena and, soon, where Quicken Loans will boast the city's tallest skyscraper.

These pockets of gentrification mask the stark reality that, outside the glittering downtown, an increasing share of residents (16.2%) in the general metro area were living in poverty in 2016, up from 14.4% in 2015, according to a report by 24/7 Wall St., a New York-based financial news organization.

As I wrote after visiting the city in 2015, the "rebirth" story line has been driven by the recent expansion, and it overlooks the longtime residents who continue to try to survive in the impoverished outer areas of the city that have largely been left behind.

Those who, for years, have been advocating for attention to Detroit's most vulnerable hoped that the city's poverty would make headlines at last when 20 high-profile Democrats recently landed in town for the nationally televised presidential debates.

Instead: crickets.

"It would have been a great opportunity to give poverty the limelight, which it needs, because for a long time it's basically been treated as a sideline issue," said Bankole Thompson, a columnist with The Detroit News and the inspiration for the PuLSE Institute, a nonpartisan think tank whose mission is ensure that extreme poverty and inequality are addressed by the city's governing and business leaders.

"The response over the past year has been great. What we hear from people is that they finally have an entity that is going to be a bully pulpit that forces city hall, the mayor and business to be accountable to the topics of poverty and criminal justice reform in a way that's never been done before," Thompson told me.

One way the PuLSE Institute is attempting to hold those entities to account is by getting legislators, nonprofits and businesses on the record about their plans to address these issues and then creating scorecards to measure progress.

"One thing that has been very powerful has been getting CEOs of the businesses in town to attend forums on poverty -- people who before would never go on the record except to comment on the NASDAQ -- and we get them to talk about how they are going to invest in the city," Thompson said. "They come to the table because the institute has the collective wisdom of some of the most skilled and influential anti-poverty activists on our National Advisory Panel, but also because, as several of the industry captains have said during our forums, they grew up poor, they are children of immigrants, they have lived it and are saying that battling inequality and poverty is important."

Given the level of buy-in from local corporations, Lawrence Technological University recently announced that its MBA program students will partner with the PuLSE Institute to study how well city/business partnerships to address poverty and social inequality can work.

It's all part of the plan to break new ground in how to identify results-oriented solutions, Tina M. Patterson, the institute's president told me.

"Poverty is the biggest issue in Detroit that no one wanted to discuss. In the midst of a recovery that is supposed to be inclusive, a large population has been ignored, abandoned and burdened by compounding poverty," Patterson said. "The institute is now giving voice to the cries of the majority in Detroit who are ignored."

If successful, the initiative could be a model for other cities who often hurry to capitalize on philanthropists and corporations that want to make marquee investments but have no intention of ever taking a hard look at whether their headline-generating gifts or investments actually make a difference.

What city's residents wouldn't want to know that?

Esther Cepeda's email address is estherjcepeda@washpost.com, or follow her on Twitter: @estherjcepeda.

(c) 2019, Washington Post Writers Group

 

The crippling legacy of gender stereotypes

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO -- As a lifelong lover of the ballet -- and as a child of immigrant parents who could not afford to start me in classes when I was little -- there was no question that my own kids would be enrolled in dance training as soon as they hit preschool.

When my son was 4, the movie "Billy Elliot" had already come out, telling the story of an English coal miner's son who, at age 11, battles masculine disapproval to study ballet. The heartwarming film hardened my spine against skeptical family members who wondered why I enrolled my firstborn in level-one tap and ballet classes.

When, predictably, he was the only boy in his class, no amount of assuring him that many big, strong men were proud to call themselves ballet dancers would assuage his shame. Especially when all the mommies fawned over his teeny black slippers.

He cried at his recital and, when it was over, I let him quit. That was that for his dance-related college scholarship.

Sixteen years later, after I came out to him and the rest of my family as queer, we got to talking, and he said he understood why I had never mentioned being gender nonconforming to my family.

"I remember I really liked wearing your pink ballet tutu around the house," he told me. "But, one day, we had company over, and I remember the looks on their faces and how they laughed nervously when they saw me in it -- I knew right then that this was not OK and not something I should ever do again."

It's amazing that no matter how much a society evolves in its view of gender -- whether it's states mandating gender-neutral bathrooms or localities electing transgender people to offices for everything from local school boards to Congress -- the pull of gender stereotypes is still visceral.

In those calcified archetypes, boys win soccer championships and girls are the only ones who get to wear tights to dance -- unless, of course, we're talking about (BEG ITAL)gay(END ITAL) boys or men, in which case some people feel that's acceptable.

No matter how many World Cup wins the U.S. women's national soccer team delivers, or how many male ballet dancers get caught up in #MeToo scandals in which they're accused of sexually degrading women, people still largely believe in "boy" activities and "girl" activities.

This apparently includes people like "Good Morning America" host Lara Spencer, who had a laugh at news that England's Prince George of Cambridge -- the 6-year-old child of Prince William and Kate Middleton -- takes ballet classes along with religious studies, computer programming and poetry.

Spencer apologized after internationally renowned male ballet dancers and choreographers like Christopher Wheeldon and Benjamin Millipied weighed in to complain about such small-minded and homophobic comments making it on-air at ABC.

Her ignorant remark came as no surprise to people who don't fit into the neat gender and sexual-identity expectations that are constantly shoved down everyone's throat.

For instance, even in the post-#MeToo era, it's big business to sell pricey makeup to women who want to channel their inner little girl.

I wandered into an Ulta beauty store on an errand recently with my partner and was shocked to find Barbie co-branded lipstick and eyeshadow prominently featured in a display stand near the checkout area.

Upon further research I learned that the PUR x Barbie collection was designed for the 60-year anniversary of Barbie. "This celebratory collection helps you bring out your inner girl boss with fierce colors, bold pigments and high-performance beauty products that are sure to take your confidence to new heights! ... Look, feel and live however you want with this collection that embraces and highlights the inner-Barbie and true uniqueness found in each of us!"

To each their own, of course.

But the irony of enticing grown women to paint their faces like the literal icon of the blonde, busty -- and silent -- late-'50s toy girl/woman seems less like dismantling the patriarchy and more like the cursed brainchild of a multibillion-dollar corporations' marketing department. Each lipstick, after all, costs nearly $20.

Despite all the new acceptance of fluid gender roles, too many entities are still invested in the narrow ideas of femininity and masculinity that humiliated my son 16 years ago.

But even though the prince of England wasn't immune to being laughed at for training in what is a difficult and physical discipline, he gave all the boys-in-ballet-slippers of the world an opportunity to be recognized for how normal they are.

Esther Cepeda's email address is estherjcepeda@washpost.com, or follow her on Twitter: @estherjcepeda.

(c) 2019, Washington Post Writers Group

 

Donald Trump hates children

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

WASHINGTON -- Does Donald Trump hate immigrant children?

That's not hyperbole. Is there any other way to interpret his administration's efforts to wreck these children's lives starting at the moment of conception?

Let's begin with the newly enacted public charge rule, which -- if pending lawsuits don't prevail -- will penalize legal immigrants who accessed federal benefits such as Medicaid, food stamps or housing assistance by making them ineligible for green cards and eventual citizenship. This means that women pregnant with soon-to-be U.S. citizens will have to choose between getting help for themselves or going without for eventual citizenship, as many are already reportedly doing.

And the new policy's ramifications could spread to non-immigrant children who attend schools with large Latino or other immigrant populations. The federal government uses the number of children who qualify for free and reduced-price meals to distribute funds earmarked for low-income students. The net result of poorer immigrant families waiving benefits will be that schools with the same number of low-income kids will have fewer funds with which to educate them.

But wait! The administration has an idea to cut those numbers down, too.

Right now, it is federal law that all children, regardless of immigration status, are entitled to a free and appropriate public education. Trump whisperer and senior adviser Stephen Miller wants to end that, despite repeated failed attempts to overturn Plyler v. Doe, the Supreme Court case that guarantees that undocumented children can go to public school. Keeping out undocumented kids has been on the nativist wish list for years and will certainly rear its ugly head again.

Just last week, Trump reintroduced the idea to end birthright citizenship so that children born to immigrants or refugees on U.S. soil would no longer automatically be U.S. citizens. Conveniently, that would resolve the key criticism of the public charge rule, which is that it harms U.S. citizen children on the basis of their parents' legal or potential citizenship status.

The Trump administration also just announced that it will publish a new regulation invalidating the 1997 Flores Settlement agreement, which codified the medical fact that keeping children in detention facilities for extended periods of time is physically and emotionally harmful.

As a result, children who enter the country with their families and are put into detention will be eligible to be held in facilities indefinitely instead of the current limit of 20 days.

And we know what those detention facilities have looked like under Trump. Recently, a federal appeals court in California had to clarify to the administration that "safe and sanitary conditions" for minors have to include edible food, clean water for drinking and bathing, basic hygiene items like soap and toothbrushes, and sleep. Yes, uninterrupted blocks of sleep in adequate sleeping accommodations.

I know what some of you are thinking: "But they're 'illegal'!"

First of all: So what? Kids are kids. Have a heart, for Pete's sake.

Second, there have been several documented cases of U.S.-born children having been accidentally swept up by Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) and then detained before getting sufficient legal assistance to be freed. Even one instance of this outrage is too many.

Worse than that, there are U.S.-born citizens who end up in foster care when their undocumented family members are deported or put into detention. An estimated 5,000 suffered this fate way back in 2011, before the uptick in detentions and deportations, according to the American Immigration Council.

Third, not all Latinos are first- or second-generation immigrants, much less undocumented ones. But most Latino children have some tie to immigrant caregivers. Hispanic children make up nearly one-fourth of students in public schools.

How do you think stressed-out immigrant children, worried about their family's hunger or homelessness or immigration status, perform in school? How do you imagine these problems impact learning, or collaboration and play at school with classmates who don't have the same worries?

What do you imagine that does for a classroom, a lunchroom, a playground, a school?

How about when an ICE raid rocks a community?

What does that mean for the children, the grandchildren, nephews, nieces, family friends?

For some of those students, it means acting out in class, disruptions, lost teaching time (and frazzled teachers). It means the fraying of communities at the epicenter of where we create civic-minded citizens. It means that children -- and not just those who have immigration-related fears -- feel unsafe.

If that isn't a country that, by presidential proxy, has contempt for children, I don't know what is.

Esther Cepeda's email address is estherjcepeda@washpost.com, or follow her on Twitter: @estherjcepeda.

(c) 2019, Washington Post Writers Group

 

 

 

Latino oppression precedes Trump but is growing worse every day

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO -- There's a lot of fear in the Latino community right now of being targeted by someone with a grudge against immigrants.

But attributing the unease to the recent shootings in El Paso, which specifically targeted Mexicans, overlooks the relentless struggle of being nonwhite in America. And the tension ratcheted up after Donald Trump first launched his presidential campaign on the premise that Mexicans were "rapists" and "murderers."

The journalist Rachel Hatzipanagos recently wrote in The Washington Post: "Across racial and ethnic groups, about two-thirds [of respondents to a Pew Research Center study] said that it has become more common for people to express racist views since Trump became president. Researchers say victims of racism experience negative health outcomes. Studies have linked Trump's rise to an increase in premature births among Latinas, and others have tied it to increased anxiety and depression in the general Latinx population."

I worry most about all the Hispanic children who will grow up not trusting white people.

I grew up in a friendly, predominantly white, working-class neighborhood in Chicago -- the kind where plumbers, nurses and sanitation workers were able to own a home and send their kids to the local Catholic school. I can't imagine how different my life would have been had my parents lived with suspicion or rancor from their neighbors.

It's impossible to say for sure, but it seems unlikely that I'd be as successful had Mrs. Hannigan, who lived three doors down from me, not made it her habit to sit on the front porch just around the time the ice cream truck came by, ready to give me her spare change so I could buy an orange push-up.

Would I have grown up to marry a white man if the lovely and persistent German-born lady who lived next door to my family had not navigated the protective bubble my strict father enforced around me to introduce me to rocky road ice cream for the first time?

Would I have excelled academically through an elite college-prep high school if my white elementary school teachers hadn't nurtured me, teased out my strengths and held me to their highest standards?

It's difficult to know, but the difference is striking between those who grew up being oppressed by people who didn't respect nonwhites' language or culture and those who were treated kindly.

In his 2017 essay "My President Was Black," Ta-Nehisi Coates wrote that Barack Obama's biracial upbringing imbued him with the ability to trust whites, resulting in Obama being "phenomenal -- the most agile interpreter and navigator of the color line I had ever seen. He had an ability to emote a deep and sincere connection to the hearts of black people, while never doubting the hearts of white people."

Will Latino children be able to trust white people with that same level of confidence after the Trump presidency?

If not, it would be foolish to lay that shame solely at the feet of our racist, anti-Latino president. Stop to consider that -- though the tenor of attitudes toward immigrants has gotten more hostile under Trump -- decades of underinvestment in Hispanic students have kept them isolated from the very people, whites, they need to understand in order to succeed in this country.

Though low-income students of all racial groups are likelier to learn beside more middle-class pupils than ever before, racial segregation in schools has intensified. In fact, Latino children are likely to enter elementary schools this year with fewer white peers than a generation ago, according to a new study published in "Educational Researcher," the peer-reviewed journal of the American Educational Research Association.

On average, the nation's Latino children attended elementary schools in which nearly 40% of their schoolmates were white in 1998, but that fell to just 30% by 2010, according to data analyzed by researchers from the University of California, Berkeley; the University of Maryland; and the University of California, Irvine.

The net result is that between 1998 and 2010, Latinos nationwide became more segregated within districts enrolling at least 10% Latino pupils, including in large urban districts.

We can't blame that on Trump.

That's on a society, in which the best teachers and resources go to affluent students. And the least trained teachers populate the most under-resourced and highly segregated schools, in which students are most dependent on school for an education.

Inequality -- and Latino distrust -- stands to haunt our country for decades to come.

Esther Cepeda's email address is estherjcepeda@washpost.com, or follow her on Twitter: @estherjcepeda.

(c) 2019, Washington Post Writers Group

 

 

Charlotte, NC's Our Bridge program a model for welcoming refugees

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO -- The last time I saw Sil Ganzó, she was beaming as she gave a tour of her after-school care facility for newly arrived immigrant and refugee children.

Based on her enthusiasm, you'd have thought the tiny, two-room storefront for the elementary-school students had the grandeur of Google's headquarters. But, as I recall, it had few windows, and she was fighting to get local dog owners to pick up after their pets on the loose gravel outside the building -- the barren spot where the trash cans were kept but also where the kids liked to make up games and run out their wiggles.

That was back in 2015, when I visited the OurBridge program in Charlotte, North Carolina, which Ganzó runs as executive director. I learned on my visit about the astounding diversity and expanding population of U.S.-born Hispanics, immigrants and refugees in the American South.

Charlotte continues to expand and serve as a gateway for new Americans. This has meant major changes for OurBridge and for Ganzó's newcomers.

"We've grown! In the last couple of years, we tripled the number of kids to about 200 and expanded to middle school-aged kids. Our home is now a beautiful building with hundreds of acres of green space, a lake and a kitchen," Ganzó gushed to me on the phone recently. "We partnered with an elder care organization and are renting it for one dollar a year! We can take the kids to cook, on hikes; they have soccer fields and have planted a garden."

It sounds like an oasis for children who are often scarred by the effects of war, deprivation and unspeakable trauma -- whether it be from crossing our southern border or arriving here from Syria, Burma, Bhutan or the Democratic Republic of Congo.

Truly, it's a sanctuary. And I don't mean the new facility -- I'm sure it is beautiful, but when I visited, I witnessed gold-standard student-centered engagement. Kids working with each other to build block towers, teachers modeling self-advocacy and problem-solving, older students helping younger ones with homework, groups practicing English and filling in the blanks with their shared language of hand gestures and smiles.

My visit to OurBridge sprung to mind when I heard Ken Cuccinelli, the White House acting director of U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services, make a mockery of the Statue of Liberty's famous Emma Lazarus-penned inscription. He suggested: "Give me your tired and your poor who can stand on their own two feet and who will not become a public charge."

What he didn't say was that almost all poor, undereducated immigrants can pull themselves up by their bootstraps -- they just need a loving, helping hand.

"We make our families feel cared for, not just by teaching their kids English, but by advocating for them in the community," said Ganzó, herself an immigrant from Buenos Aires, Argentina. "Last year when we had ICE agents knocking on doors, I had a parent calling me from the closet, scared because they were outside her house. We went to our elected officials to ask that the city not cooperate. Unfortunately, the mayor didn't sign on to do that, like many other major cities, but it gives our families peace of mind that someone is fighting for them."

Ganzó said that both parents and students come to understand and eventually love the U.S., not because they're offered English as a second language classes or after-school care, but because they feel connected to their new home when their own homelands are honored.

"We know we don't want our families to 'assimilate' -- that word is misused because it means that one culture supersedes the other. What we want to achieve is acculturation, where you learn and become part of a culture without losing your identity or where you come from," Ganzó said. "We take the kids to their markets where they see their flags. We'll go to the Nepali store, the Asian market, the Latino food market, the African store -- then we ask them to help us buy the food for their recipes, and it makes the kids so proud that they know something that we don't know."

People who seek to keep others out of this country don't realize that people who make the treacherous and heartbreaking journey to this country do so because they want to get on their own two feet. They don't want a handout, but their success here does rely on being met with a welcoming hand.

Esther Cepeda's email address is estherjcepeda@washpost.com, or follow her on Twitter: @estherjcepeda.

(c) 2019, Washington Post Writers Group

Trump trying to put Latinos back into the shadows

CHICAGO -- The massive immigration-reform marches of 2006 started as a response to, among many other things, pending legislation that would have made unlawfully present immigrants into felons.

The marches helped squash the legislation, which was known as the Border Protection, Anti-terrorism, and Illegal Immigration Control Act of 2005. But the rallies also had a lasting impact on our country by marking the beginning of a move toward bringing unlawfully present immigrants out of the shadows and into the spotlight to take a well-deserved bow. These are your neighbors, the people who cheaply cut your lawn, help you take care of your elderly, prepare your food from farm to table and clean your homes and offices.

After the 2006 marches, unlawfully present immigrants began to "come out," echoing the phrase that LGBTQ people use when disclosing their sexual identity to others.

"In the last few years, many immigrants, particularly those who were brought to the United States illegally when they were very young, have invoked the narrative of 'coming out.' Specifically, they have publicly 'outed' themselves by disclosing their unauthorized immigration status despite the threat of deportation laws," wrote University of California at Davis law professor Rose C. Villazor in "The Undocumented Closet," an article published in the University of North Carolina's Law Review in 2013.

"In so doing, they have revealed their own closet -- 'the undocumented closet' -- in which they have been forced to hide their identity as 'undocumented Americans.' Notably, by choosing to become visible, these undocumented Americans are slowly yet powerfully reforming immigration policy by demanding that they are recognized as lawful members of the American polity."

Most people will remember a period of time when young, unlawfully present immigrants were making headlines by being publicly "undocumented and unafraid." And then some of their parents started being open about their illegal status.

That really stuck in the craw of people like President Trump and his immigration advisers -- official ones like Stephen Miller and Steve Bannon and unofficial ones like Kris Kobach -- who have made demonizing immigrants the cornerstone of Trump's election and reelection campaigns.

Trump popularized making America "great again" -- an idea that seemed to rest on the belief that immigrants, regardless of whether they are legally or unlawfully present, are what made America not great.

Cue the rash of white Americans getting caught on tape attempting to shame non-whites for speaking languages other than English out in public, or physically harming non-whites seemingly for just being themselves. The shooter who killed 22 people at an El Paso Walmart in early August freely admitted he was targeting Mexicans.

Not "illegal immigrants," but what he and Trump's followers consider a "Hispanic invasion."

Hispanic -- as in legal immigrants and naturalized citizens from Latin America and U.S. born citizens from parents with ties to Latin America.

Though the shooter said in his manifesto that his views on immigration pre-dated Trump's run for president, it hardly matters.

Trump's hard-charging campaign to keep immigrants away from the U.S. and make those strident "undocumented and unafraid" people scared is no secret.

 

Now that every brown-skinned immigrant and U.S.-born-Latino feels they are a target, Trump is moving on to terrorizing those who got into the U.S. "the right way."

This week, the White House announced new standards for obtaining a green card, and thus U.S. citizenship, increasing the scrutiny of applicants' finances to ensure they are not likely to someday use taxpayer-funded benefits like Medicaid, housing assistance or food stamps. These measures are expected to weed out low-income immigrants of color who Trump and his followers consider to be undesirable.

Starting last fall, when the idea of tightening the standards for which immigrants might eventually become a "public charge" was floated by the administration, the effects have been chilling. There are reports that immigrants are forgoing their U.S.-born children's food assistance and medical benefits for fear that if they used them, it could threaten their ability to eventually obtain a green card.

It's all a part of a master plan to make immigrants, even those who are documented, afraid.

But there are a lot of U.S.-born Latinos who aren't buying into this noise.

Many of us recognize there is a target on our backs. But some of us are happy to say -- to Trump and to anyone who feels they need to rid the country of Hispanics -- come at us.

Everything that happens to vilify and frighten Latinos in this country only serves to make us more willing to call our legislators, to register voters and canvas neighborhoods to get out the vote.

In other words, their hatred makes us stronger.

 

 

Be nice: Teens are having a hard time these days

BY ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO -- If you know a teen -- a relative, a family friend or even just the kid behind the counter at your local pizza joint -- give them a gift today: Look them straight in the eye and assure them that everything is going to be OK.

It's the time of year when tensions are especially high for older children. Recent high school graduates might soon be saying goodbye to lifelong friends as they head off to college and oftentimes-daunting independence. Meanwhile, the pressures on high school juniors and seniors are ratcheting up as seemingly everyone asks the innocent but heart-stinging question: What are you doing after you graduate?

And this is the very least of their stresses.

It doesn't take into account the complicating day-to-day factors of life as an adolescent. Many worry about being able to afford a post-high school education or living arrangements. Others struggle with issues related to sexual identity that can emerge during these years. Some, of course, deal with chronic medical or physical conditions. And there's the mounting stress for many of simply being nonwhite in an America that is increasingly racially hostile.

Can you begin to imagine being a teen and starting the new school year feeling like you've got a target on your back because you have a dark complexion and maybe an accent from another country?

"Personally, I didn't want to go to school," 17-year-old Roman Pastrana told Education Week. Pastrana explained that when his senior year at El Paso's Eastlake High School began two weeks ago -- before the mass shooting there that apparently targeted Latinos and killed at least 22 people -- he felt anxious even though his family is documented and living in the country legally.

"Regardless of that fact, we're just scared. We're afraid that something can go down … Anywhere I go, I feel threatened," Pastrana continued. "A minor who hasn't even voted yet shouldn't have to be afraid of being in school or afraid of being Hispanic."

Education Week reported that similar concerns are shared by officials in school systems that serve large populations of U.S.-born Latino students and legal immigrant and undocumented youth.

"It's the first catastrophic, mass-killing event that targeted individuals -- adults, children -- just on the basis of being Hispanic, being Latino," said Alberto Carvalho, the superintendent of the Miami-Dade district, where 71% of students are Hispanic. Carvalho noted the appalling likelihood that some of the victims at the El Paso Walmart were doing their back-to-school shopping.

It might have been the first mass murder to target Latinos in this country, but it may not be the last.

Distinct overtones of white supremacy are a feature, not a bug, of our current president's rhetoric. The attitude that Donald Trump exudes toward people from other countries is simple: They are inferior.

Immigrants are frequent targets of derision in his comments, tweets and applause lines at rallies. He's also, of course, insulted black people and women, and even mocked a disabled reporter. Which group will he target and demonize next?

Teens' lives are already racked with uncertainty and pressures -- to get good grades, find their first jobs, face pressure to drink or do drugs, and generally fit in and promote an Instagram- or SnapChat-worthy self-image. This all takes a heavy toll. A February Pew Research Center survey that 70% of all teens 13 to 17 believe that anxiety and depression are major problems among their peers. Another 26% said they are minor problems.

And a lot of teens work very hard not to show it -- to varying success. Therefore, they need understanding, comforting and support even at the most boring, ordinary moments.

The other day I went up the street to pick up some meatballs for dinner. They cost $6.40, and I gave the polite young man behind the counter a $10 bill. As he started counting out my change, he apologized. "I'm sorry I'm going so slow," he said. "This is my first time doing this."

I assured him that he wasn't going slow at all and that he was doing a great job and would only get better as time went on.

The teens around you are probably bearing a heavy load. Pay attention to them and, whenever possible, give them some kindness and encouragement.

========

Esther Cepeda's email address is estherjcepeda@washpost.com. Follow her on Twitter, @estherjcepeda.

 

 

Trump's not wrong: Video games don't cause violence

CHICAGO — As I type, my 17-year-old son is online with his friends playing a game called “Tom Clancy’s Rainbow Six Siege.” It’s your standard shoot-’em-up game with tough military types in black tactical gear with powerful guns. Quiet, hyper-realistic situations ratchet up the tension, my son tells me. I hear the occasional screams emanating from the basement as he or his teammates suffer onscreen deaths.

I wish my son had more wholesome pastimes. But the comradery, teamwork skills and relationship-building that go on in his virtual playscapes spill out into his real life, to his benefit. Let’s face it, not every kid is into physical team sports, but the problem-solving skills and the friendships that are forged during online game play can be very powerful.

As so many have said: Violent video games alone do not cause people to go off the rails, arm themselves and open fire on innocent people in public places.

But there’s also no question that there is something wrong with a multibillion-dollar video game industry that sells to young men the ability to virtually assassinate a foe as an escape from real life. And parents often find themselves wishing that the skills of perseverance and tedious hard work that video game players exert over hours and hours of gameplay would replicate themselves out in the real world. We worry over how invested our kids are in these games.

Typically, after a shooting tragedy, some elected officials on the right make it a practice to criticize and implicate video games. Doing so is easier and less of a political risk than admitting that some types of gun-control measures can both uphold the spirit of the Second Amendment and simultaneously make it harder for disaffected individuals with serious mental health issues to abuse the privilege of owning a firearm.

Some cynical folks on the left rush to the defense of video games and argue that the Republican Party is never going to acknowledge the value in commonsense gun reform — particularly as long as they remain beholden to the NRA’s lobbying. In a way, the knee-jerk reaction of defending video games after a mass shooting ignores how the mega-rich corporations peddle games to very young men. It takes some of the heat off of game creators who ship out titles featuring graphic violence, explicit sexual references and detestable behavior toward women and people of color.

And these games — with their immersive, addictive qualities and experiences of empowerment — are especially appealing to young boys.

While no specific study has found a direct and causal link between the most deplorable video game behavior and violent crime, some researchers have observed a correlation between violent video games and physical aggression, such as hitting.

But even if violent video games can’t be tied to real-life mass shootings, ask yourself: Should teens or preteens have easy access to a “game” that graphically depicts domestic violence against women, children and infants? Or encourages the perpetuation of racist stereotypes?

Next time there’s a tragedy and a politician blames video games, recognize that the he or she has a self-serving agenda to avoid gun reform. And admit that too many kids are virtually playing out some of the behaviors we’re horrified to witness when young men take their shooting fantasies into our real lives.

Esther Cepeda’s email address is estherjcepeda@washpost.com.

 

Americans need to focus on the atrocities afflicting migrants at our border

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO -- A decade ago, reporting on the immigration beat meant following dour -- but manageable -- story lines: legislative efforts at comprehensive reform, the occasional high-profile ICE raid, a mom taking sanctuary at a church.

Today's reporting on immigration requires a sustained focus to understand what is happening on a day-to-day basis, a thorough grasp of this nation's history of integrating people from other countries, and a strong stomach to withstand the unending torrent of horrors that migrants are being subjected to by our government.

If news stories were to be comprehensive, they wouldn't be reports but instead long lists capturing the injustices and atrocities going on in our communities. Here's a short one, just covering developments in the last three days of July:

-- Republican senators blocked a House bill that denied Venezuelans Temporary Protected Status -- which prevents immigrants' removal from the United States and allows them to obtain employment and travel authorization. The legislators did this despite the fact that Venezuela's economy has collapsed and it has been described by some scholars as a "Mafia state" due to the government's alleged involvement in the drug trade and other criminal enterprises.

-- The Trump administration tried to subvert U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services - the supposedly welcoming arm of the federal-immigration apparatus -- by training border agents to conduct the "credible fear" interviews that allow migrants who fear for their safety to have a shot at finding refuge in this country. NBC News reports that Stephen Miller, President Trump's immigration whisperer, is undertaking this effort -- among other tactics, like "metering" the number of people who are interviewed daily -- to limit the number of asylum seekers allowed into the country.

-- The Associated Press reported that the Trump administration is threatening fines - of up to $500,000 in some cases -- to immigrants taking sanctuary at churches and other houses of worship in order to curb the practice.

-- The ACLU estimated that more than 900 children, including "numerous" babies and toddlers, have been separated from their parents or caregivers since the administration said it would end the controversial -- and, according to numerous experts, ineffective - practice of attempting to deter families from migrating by breaking up families.

There is so much more going on with the Trump administration - such as arbitrary rule changes and the continuing mistreatment of migrants at border detention facilities - and it's all working toward the end goal of limiting the number of "worthy" outsiders who are deigned to be good enough to come into our country.

"These actions by the Trump administration are changing what America means and the humanitarian values it represents," said Jennifer Quigley, the director of refugee advocacy at Human Rights First, during a telephonic press briefing. "They're simply trying to put through as many measures as possible to limit migration through cruelty, making this country no longer a safe haven."

And what's so frustrating is that, by all accounts, the deterrence strategy that is harming so many people (BEG ITAL)does not work(END ITAL).

For example, when the U.S. Border Patrol stepped up its practice of destroying water placed in the desert to aid border crossers, researchers predicted that the uptick in deaths would not prevent people from making the treacherous trip. And they were right.

Policymakers are just starting to do the work of determining whether the cruelties at the border have any limiting effect on desperate migrants fleeing violence and privation at home, but they -- and anyone else who is paying even marginal attention -- are finding that rational people will take whatever chances they might have to simply survive.

Typically, I end immigration columns with a call to action to please donate to a nonprofit organization doing the work of helping immigrants caught in the crosshairs of the immigration enforcement system. Or I encourage the very effective practice of calling your elected representatives to tell them not to participate in making America more hostile to immigrants.

But even my steely determination occasionally flags after a year of the dehumanization of men, women and children at the border.

Cruelty is this administration's strategy, and it works on outside observers as well as it does on migrants. So, for now, all I ask is that you please not turn away. Stay engaged with the immigration crisis -- keep yourself informed. America's status as a haven for those with no other options requires your sustained attention.

Esther Cepeda's email address is estherjcepeda@washpost.com, or follow her on Twitter: @estherjcepeda.

(c) 2019, Washington Post Writers Group

 

Americans need to focus on the atrocities afflicting migrants at our border

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO -- A decade ago, reporting on the immigration beat meant following dour -- but manageable -- story lines: legislative efforts at comprehensive reform, the occasional high-profile ICE raid, a mom taking sanctuary at a church.

Today's reporting on immigration requires a sustained focus to understand what is happening on a day-to-day basis, a thorough grasp of this nation's history of integrating people from other countries, and a strong stomach to withstand the unending torrent of horrors that migrants are being subjected to by our government.

If news stories were to be comprehensive, they wouldn't be reports but instead long lists capturing the injustices and atrocities going on in our communities. Here's a short one, just covering developments in the last three days of July:

-- Republican senators blocked a House bill that denied Venezuelans Temporary Protected Status -- which prevents immigrants' removal from the United States and allows them to obtain employment and travel authorization. The legislators did this despite the fact that Venezuela's economy has collapsed and it has been described by some scholars as a "Mafia state" due to the government's alleged involvement in the drug trade and other criminal enterprises.

-- The Trump administration tried to subvert U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services - the supposedly welcoming arm of the federal-immigration apparatus -- by training border agents to conduct the "credible fear" interviews that allow migrants who fear for their safety to have a shot at finding refuge in this country. NBC News reports that Stephen Miller, President Trump's immigration whisperer, is undertaking this effort -- among other tactics, like "metering" the number of people who are interviewed daily -- to limit the number of asylum seekers allowed into the country.

-- The Associated Press reported that the Trump administration is threatening fines - of up to $500,000 in some cases -- to immigrants taking sanctuary at churches and other houses of worship in order to curb the practice.

-- The ACLU estimated that more than 900 children, including "numerous" babies and toddlers, have been separated from their parents or caregivers since the administration said it would end the controversial -- and, according to numerous experts, ineffective - practice of attempting to deter families from migrating by breaking up families.

There is so much more going on with the Trump administration - such as arbitrary rule changes and the continuing mistreatment of migrants at border detention facilities - and it's all working toward the end goal of limiting the number of "worthy" outsiders who are deigned to be good enough to come into our country.

"These actions by the Trump administration are changing what America means and the humanitarian values it represents," said Jennifer Quigley, the director of refugee advocacy at Human Rights First, during a telephonic press briefing. "They're simply trying to put through as many measures as possible to limit migration through cruelty, making this country no longer a safe haven."

And what's so frustrating is that, by all accounts, the deterrence strategy that is harming so many people (BEG ITAL)does not work(END ITAL).

For example, when the U.S. Border Patrol stepped up its practice of destroying water placed in the desert to aid border crossers, researchers predicted that the uptick in deaths would not prevent people from making the treacherous trip. And they were right.

Policymakers are just starting to do the work of determining whether the cruelties at the border have any limiting effect on desperate migrants fleeing violence and privation at home, but they -- and anyone else who is paying even marginal attention -- are finding that rational people will take whatever chances they might have to simply survive.

Typically, I end immigration columns with a call to action to please donate to a nonprofit organization doing the work of helping immigrants caught in the crosshairs of the immigration enforcement system. Or I encourage the very effective practice of calling your elected representatives to tell them not to participate in making America more hostile to immigrants.

But even my steely determination occasionally flags after a year of the dehumanization of men, women and children at the border.

Cruelty is this administration's strategy, and it works on outside observers as well as it does on migrants. So, for now, all I ask is that you please not turn away. Stay engaged with the immigration crisis -- keep yourself informed. America's status as a haven for those with no other options requires your sustained attention.

Esther Cepeda's email address is estherjcepeda@washpost.com, or follow her on Twitter: @estherjcepeda.

(c) 2019, Washington Post Writers Group

 

People of color struggle with mental illness - even worse than others who suffer

BY ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO -- July was National Minority Mental Health Awareness Month and, well, to be honest, I had no idea.

What's worse is that the annual campaign started all the way back in 2008, when Congress passed a resolution to improve access to mental health treatment and promote public awareness of mental illness, specifically among people of color.

I learned that this was the culmination of years of work by Bebe Moore Campbell, an author, journalist, teacher and co-founder of the Los Angeles chapter of the National Alliance on Mental Illness, an organization that advocates for people of color with mental illness.

Mental. Illness.

Ugh.

The big problem in treating mental illness is the stigma that all people -- but especially those from communities of color -- face.

And isn't it clear that the stigma begins with the term "mental illness"?

Who wants to label their mind as being sick or diseased?

Isn't it less awful to say, for instance, that you have depression, or anxiety, for instance?

I have both, and they are medically diagnosed conditions that would be painful enough to deal with if they weren't also individually seen as so abnormal in the Hispanic community. Throw on the words "mental illness" and it adds fear.

Hugo Balta, the president of the National Association of Hispanic Journalists, encapsulated it perfectly in this tweet: "Latinos are typically taught that to seek out mental health treatment is equivalent to believing that you are loco, or crazy, so it's nothing that you want to readily admit." Balta tweeted this in reaction to welcome news that Connecticut Gov. Ned Lamont had signed a bill making insurance companies treat mental health issues in his state the same as physical ones.

It's not that Latinos don't "believe" in depression, anxiety or any other disorders, but for a long time there weren't popularly used terms in Spanish for these conditions. And then there's the immigrant mindset.

Back "home," there may have been war, poverty, hunger and/or other forms of privation. In this country, we have backbreaking work, language barriers, bigotry, violence and, perhaps, alcohol or drug abuse. But in striving for a better life, these states are taken as a given.

And if you're the child of immigrants, born in the ultra-rich United States, getting what's generally considered a world-class education and living in an opulence that is probably unimaginable compared with life in a parent's native country ... well, what in the world do you have to complain about?

At least that was my experience and that of many in my age cohort.

I've suffered -- yes, suffered -- from depression and anxiety ever since I can remember. Insomnia, stomachaches, nausea, headaches, eating disorders, crippling worry, repressed gender-identity and sexual-orientation issues ... I could go on.

I went undiagnosed until about five years ago, when I finally broke down crying at my general practitioner's office.

But I had it easy compared with what many kids of color go through today.

Overt racism in public and at school, sometimes from teachers and administrators. The valid feeling -- with statistics to back it up -- that law enforcement is out to get you. Immigration enforcement raids haphazardly picking people up in their communities. The Trump administration's inhumane treatment of migrants at the border and attempts to restrict refugees from entering the country. High-stakes testing and the constant drumbeat in our culture of "college for all or your life is over."

And adults from communities of color have all that plus limited job opportunities (sometimes even with stellar educations under their belts), microaggressions in higher education or at work, possibly crippling student debt or, worse, no college degree at all to serve as a ticket to upward mobility.

Those are all societal stressors and factors that, taken, are too daunting to deal with.

But the issue of requiring that insurance companies provide mental health services to every insured person is just practical preventive care that all insurance providers should be required to offer.

And the disease-preventing power of making mental health services accessible to all -- especially low-income people -- is also a great investment for federal health and human service dollars.

Sure, in addition to having a crappy name, mental illness is cheaper to ignore in the short run, but government disinvestment in this area is penny-wise and pound foolish.

Combating the stigma of mental illness in all communities, especially those of color, is actually quite simple: Provide them the tools to actually get professional medical care so that people in pain have the opportunity to own their hurts and get help.

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Esther Cepeda's email address is estherjcepeda@washpost.com, or follow her on Twitter: @estherjcepeda.

(c) 2019, Washington Post Writers Group

 

 

Changing the world -- one playing card deck at a time

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

PORTLAND, Ore. -- What do children with leukemia, trees in deforested regions of the world, and kids in the remote rural communities of Nepal and Kathmandu have in common?

They all have very young benefactors who eat, breathe and sleep playing cards -- and who care deeply about making the world a better place.

These dudes who champion such a wide range of causes are barely out of their teens or 20s, and many of them look like they've stepped out of an ad for skateboarding gear. Yet they spend hours on YouTube learning about cardistry, which is the art of making playing cards dance and somersault in the air.

It was breathtaking recently to see 400 or so of these young men looking like their hearts were in their throats as they watched a short film starring their cardistry heroes, Portland native Sean Oulashin and James Milaras, the Australian founder of the playing card design shop Joker and the Thief.

Milaras and Oulashin's documentary "Cardistry Was Here" is a 20-minute pitch for helping the vulnerable women and children of Nepal through educational programs, community development projects and, yes, teaching the kiddies how to make 52 playing cards jump, flip and twirl.

"A fellow entrepreneur asked me to think about what I could do for the community, and the next thing I know, I'm connected to someone who knew about Friends of Himalayan Children, which helps kids whose lives are affected by the gambling problem in Nepal," Milaras told me. "It seemed like an amazing opportunity to change the negative perception of playing cards in that community and help combat multigenerational gambling addiction by giving the kids something creative and fun to do with playing cards."

We spoke at the end of his presentation here at Cardistry-Con, a three-day gathering of playing card prestidigitators convened by Art of Play, the online curiosity shop, which is itself committed to sustainable printing practices and donates 1% of its income to planting trees in Africa, Asia and the Americas.

"Cardistry Was Here" showed Milaras and Oulashin delighting children with their card acrobatics and teaching them how to manipulate cards. It had such a visceral effect on the crowd that, immediately after the show ended, the pair raised almost double the amount of money they asked for to help fund more playing card decks, video tutorials, and underwriting for Friends of Himalayan Children's myriad education efforts.

"It was amazing, truly inspiring to see the kids' happiness and their ability to almost instantly establish a small community of their own within our larger cardistry community -- linking us all together," Oulashin told me.

The idea of giving children a community in which to grow also motivated Cameron Toner and Nate Lex, the co-owners of the Indiana-based Organic Playing Cards Company. They decided to partner with the Alex's Lemonade Stand Foundation, an organization that helps kids and their families fight childhood cancers.

Toner and Lex explained to the Cardistry-Con crowd that their first, banana-themed card deck "Peelers" inadvertently helped raise awareness of the extinction of the Cavendish banana.

"Ever since then, we were looking to up that to the next level," Toner told me. "We want to spark the feeling of lifting each other up and also bringing others in to our cardistry community, and then having that community have a greater impact on the world."

Lex continued, "We have the fruit theme, and when we got to lemonade and lemons, we knew we wanted to partner with Alex's Lemonade Stand [Foundation]. ... it seemed like a good partnership because these are kids who don't have a lot of ability to go out, meet new people or be physical. And we can raise money, we can go visit these kids, see them in person and actually teach them cardistry."

Though Los Angeles native Ilia Dickey doesn't know how to handle a deck of playing cards, her son has been card-obsessed since fourth grade. She's starting a nonprofit dedicated to promoting awareness of social causes around the world through cardistry.

"It was cardistry that boosted my son's confidence and his ability to do better in school," Dickey told me during a break in the cardistry presentations. "And I'm super excited about how conscious this group is -- there's a lot of kindness, people are trying to share information. It's almost all about the greater good, that sense of community and belonging."

Hot take, nonprofit organizations: If you want young people to buy into your charity's mission, pair it with something they're passionate about. The graceful art of cardistry could be your inroad to a lifelong donor for any cause that pairs well with playing cards.

Esther Cepeda's email address is estherjcepeda@washpost.com, or follow her on Twitter: @estherjcepeda Check out her card collection on Instagram at @estherjcepeda

(c) 2019, Washington Post Writers Group

 

 

Cardistry transforms deck of cards into performance art

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

PORTLAND, Ore. -- What is cardistry?

I thought I knew.

It used to be that I'd describe cardistry to people as the choreographed manipulation of standard, poker-sized playing cards into beautiful, shifting shapes and patterns using hand movements like packet cuts, shuffles and fans.

But that was because I had only seen it performed and explained on YouTube. Sure, the flourishes, hand springs and acrobatic card moves are mesmerizing and impressive on video. But after stepping on to the dance floor of the historic McMenamins Crystal Ballroom here last weekend while attending the fifth annual Cardistry-Con, I now understand that it is a true performance art form.

You really have to see it live to believe that anyone would pour so many hours of hard work mastering intricate flips, pops, slides, fans and springs with 52 pieces of colorful paper.

But ohhhhhhhh such paper.

Because I have limited card-handling skills, low visual-art creativity and only an astronomically small fraction of the time necessary to practice the moves, my primary interest in cardistry is the playing cards themselves.

We're talking packets of truly breathtaking visual design -- everything from vibrantly colored abstract modern-art themes to calm expressionist motifs. Some designed to be fanned and create varied geometric designs, and others just single colors, made to be extra catchy to the eye when flipped over to its face.

There are high-end luxury decks made with thick, crushed paper, rimmed with foil and designed with ornate filigrees and other gothic design accents. And there are whimsical playing-card decks whose tuck cases look like juice boxes, complete with nutrition facts printed on the back.

Nathan Lex, co-creator of the Organic Playing Cards line, described the design aesthetic this way at the conference: "So that moms would pick them up at Target and think they're cute and then share them with their friends, but also so cardists would recognize them as something special."

This kind of inclusive mindset was apparent throughout the conference -- an ethos that I had not expected going into what I had initially thought would be a boys-only event.

It's true: Cardistry seems to appeal to a very specific slice of the population, mostly tattooed young men who, in their slouchy backpacks, oversized trucker hats and Vans skateboarding shoes, look like they'd be up for vandalizing your car.

But I was neither the only female, nor was I the oldest of the nearly 500 attendees. I met many parents who had accompanied their children -- some as young as 8 -- to the conference. Some people came from as far away as New Zealand and Brazil so that their kids could fling, slide, toss, launch and fan cards with the rest of us geeks who love making 2.5-by-3.5-inch pieces of pretty paper perform intricate and acrobatic ballet moves.

"I brought my son here because he's crazy about cards, and he doesn't have any friends at home to share this with," one mom of a high school junior told me. "It's been amazing to watch him be around other people who love the same thing."

Love.

Love came up over and over again throughout the three-day jam session and buying frenzy that was sponsored by Dan and Dave Buck, skilled cardists and owners of Art of Play, the online curiosity shop.

I stood in a ballroom packed largely with self-described socially awkward loners -- who were busily sharing tips, helping each other refine their shuffling technique and giving encouragement. All the guys (for now, there are but few female cardists) were incredibly supportive, quick to teach a move and instantaneous in their helping to pick up after the inevitable dropping of cards all over the floor.

By the end, after watching a boatload of incredible cardistry videos and talking to several parents who felt that their kids' social skills and concentration in school had been enhanced by intense practice of cardistry moves, I sat and watched a 60-something dad who was there with his teen son.

Days before, he told me he'd never picked up a deck of cards other than to play card games. During the very last presentation, he was intensely concentrating on a custom-designed deck, awkwardly trying to sybil cut and swing it.

"I think I'm going to learn how to do some moves and surprise him," he told me.

And I left Cardistry-Con, thankful that another student had been inspired and welcomed into the cardistry community.

Esther Cepeda's email address is estherjcepeda@washpost.com, or follow her on Twitter: @estherjcepeda Check out her cards on Instagram @estherjcepeda

(c) 2019, Washington Post Writers Group

 

 

 

Trump and Pelosi show us why women of color struggle to succeed

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO -- People of color know Nancy Pelosi.

She's every executive who hired them because their "unique" viewpoint was sorely needed at her organization, but then ignored every new suggestion.

She's every mentor at a new workplace who suggested that it would be best to learn how things were done and try not to rock the boat.

She's every manager who bristled at expertise about their own community, target audience or demographic slice and suggested that the prevailing wisdom was more reliable than their lived experience.

Yeah, we know Nancy.

Pelosi diminished the Squad -- made up of freshman congresswomen Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, D-N.Y.; Rashida Tlaib, D-Mich.; Ilhan Omar, D-Minn.; and Ayanna Pressley, D-Mass. -- by dismissing their social media clout.

For people of color -- and women, in general, for that matter -- getting dissed like that is par for the course.

It's been maddening to watch the whole situation play itself out -- from Pelosi's slam to President Trump capitalizing on Democratic discord by suggesting that the three U.S.-born and one naturalized citizen congresswomen "go back" -- because it has felt so terribly familiar.

Trump trotting out the perennial slam -- you're a foreigner, go "back" to some other country -- was to be expected.

And Pelosi ultimately responding to it all by simply waving away the whole mess with a terse, "Let's not waste our time on that," is also typical.

All "that" is a tailor-made case study on why women of color struggle to succeed in workplaces dominated by white people.

Nothing against white people -- they, like any other group of people used to being in positions of authority or seniority over others -- don't usually know they're belittling others. It's not like most people of any race or ethnicity wake up in the morning hoping to trivialize someone else's existence.

Yet, it happens.

And it's why most corporations, nonprofit organizations and other systems, like America's public schools, can usually do OK at recruiting diverse talent, but really stink at retaining them.

"It's clear that the factors preventing women of color from advancing at work are quite different from those holding white women and even men of color back," wrote diversity and inclusion experts Zuhairah Washington and Laura Morgan Roberts on the Harvard Business Review's website. "These include microaggressions, double standards, and unconscious bias to name a few. A 2006 survey of employees from five large U.S. companies found that women of color are most likely to experience workplace harassment among all groups. They are often held to a much higher standard than their white and male peers and presumed to be less qualified despite their credentials, work product or business results."

Washington and Roberts conclude that women of color receive less support from their managers and are less likely to have bosses who promote their work contributions to others, help them navigate organizational politics or socialize with them outside of work.

This leaves women like me and like the ladies in "the Squad" -- but who don't have millions of Twitter or Instagram followers -- without informal professional networks, meaningful mentoring and the workplace sponsorship that others may take for granted.

Fixing this problem to ensure that talented, ambitious women of color persist in their chosen professions, meaningfully diversify workplaces and pull others up behind them isn't easy. It is achievable, though.

First and foremost, recognize the problem. What's happening between these freshman legislators and the white power structure in Washington is more than just a juicy political soap opera. It's emblematic of how people of color finally make it into rarified spaces only to be told to shut up and go back to wherever they came from.

Second, commit to combating unconscious biases. We all carry stereotypes, biases, understandings and assumptions about others. There's no need to beat yourself up about them or feel guilty, just acknowledge that they exist, and understand that they guide your behavior.

Lastly, understand your privilege. Everyone has privilege -- and don't assume it's just about skin color and income level.

An individual who grew up in poverty might have the privilege of excellent health. Someone with a visible physical disability may have grown up in a loving, two-parent household.

The examples are nearly endless, so let's make all of this simple: When you're interacting with a person of color, ask yourself, what would Pelosi or Trump do in this situation? Then, make a better choice.

 

 

Esther Cepeda's email address is estherjcepeda@washpost.com, or follow her on Twitter: @estherjcepeda.

(c) 2019, Washington Post Writers Group

 

 

Trump can't stop America from offering a safe harbor to huddled masses

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA CHICAGO -- It won't work.   President Trump can ask U.S.-born citizens to go "back home," and he can insult immigrants who have lived here productively for years in the hopes that they, too, will disappear from his sight. He can send out his militarized immigration force to round up people who look like they could be deported.   But he cannot will our country to stop taking in the world's tired, poor, huddled masses yearning to breathe free, because that is America's whole thing.   To put it in business terms that an executive might understand: It's our brand promise.   It's also the law.   "It violates the statutory right of any alien to seek protection in the United States," said Keren Zwick, a litigator with the Chicago-based National Immigrant Justice Center during a July 15 telephone press briefing. "We can only make good on the humanitarian purpose of asylum if migrants actually have access to it."   Anyone who likes to say that we are a nation of laws should, surely, agree that Trump's latest base-rallying immigration announcement is illegal. The so-called Third-Country Asylum Rule, which targets refugees who travel through Mexico before reaching the U.S., prohibiting them from applying for asylum, is basically a mechanism to target refugees from Latin America and relegate them to fending for themselves in Mexico.   The interim rule is going into effect "immediately" according to the administration, but will be fought in court to be prohibited from truly going into practice.   "A lawsuit is imminent, said Zwick, "we're talking days, not weeks."   And it's likely to succeed. You see the Trump administration already tried and lost its attempt at narrowing asylum claims by saying that Mexico is a safe "third country."   Sadly, Mexico is not. According to experts, like Zwick, a "safe" third country requires meaningful and robust protections for migrants, and reasonable and robust access to asylum protections in the country -- and Mexico simply doesn't offer those types of services.   Even by the inexact guidelines of the international protection standard, ratified in 1951 as the Refugee Convention, the promise is pretty simple: "A refugee should not be returned to a country where they face serious threats to their life or freedom." Most of the refugees at the border are fleeing political, criminal and economic threats in countries like Venezuela, Cuba, Eritrea and Honduras. They've made the perilous voyage to the border because "back home" means almost-certain death, imprisonment, rape, exploitation or other horrors. "Trump is yet again attempting to rewrite or violate laws on asylum-seeking that are already set by Congress," said Eleanor Acer, the director of refugee protection at the Washington, D.C.-based nonprofit organization Human Rights First. "This new rule is dangerous, disgraceful and blatantly illegal. It will create more chaos both on the border and in the courts. And it will throw more vulnerable people into situations where they can be raped, mistreated, etc." Every expert who spoke during the telephone press briefing on the president's new attempt to ban asylum believed that the courts would prevent the administration from moving forward with his new plan.   But as with the threat of immigration raids in communities of color and the president's fruitless tooth-and-nail fight to get a citizenship question included on the 2020 Census, all this activity is not truly about "fixing" our admittedly broken immigration system.   It is about President Trump asserting his anti-immigrant bona fides in advance of the upcoming presidential election, signaling to his base that he will put whites at the front and center of any plans he has to make this country more prosperous and safe. And it's also about scaring immigrants.   More than 300,000 Hispanic students have already been displaced from K-12 schools in communities where local police have forged partnerships with Immigration and Customs Enforcement officers, according to a new study from researchers at Stanford University.   In large Latino enclaves, merchants, restaurants and churches are seeing huge drops in their foot traffic due to threats of mass raids.   Immigrant parents are forgoing medical care, food stamps and other benefits that their U.S.-born children are entitled to, according to reports, for fear that interacting with any form of government will invite scrutiny from immigration officials.   In the end, it won't matter.   We should have confidence that the courts will prevail so this country can fulfill its promise of being a safe harbor for those seeking freedom.   Fear and even persecution will not scare away America's Latino population -- President Trump can count on it. Esther Cepeda's email address is estherjcepeda@washpost.com, or follow her on Twitter: @estherjcepeda. (c) 2019, Washington Post Writers Group

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