Hope for the Future: Ding Dong, HB1136 is Dead

I haven’t been shy about my disdain for the new-look Republican Party. Most of that is centered around the presidential career of Donald Trump, of course, whose remaking of that institution in his own image is nearing the end of its first full decade; and his recent actions have certainly done nothing to dissuade me of that disdain.

Their painfully-cringey attention-seeking M.O.—own the libs at all costs, ignore truth when it’s not politically expedient, wear your corruption on your sleeve and call it “making America great,” ignore the will of the electorate when your donors don’t like it—hasn’t ended in Washington DC. That particular MAGA plague has spread across the country, to varying levels of success. And in deep-red Indiana, which boasted a Republican supermajority in every branch of the government long before Trump descended that stupid escalator in 2015, the state GOP faithful have been playing the hits; again, to varying levels of success.

In my home state of Indiana, this generally takes the form of the state taking aim at Indianapolis, the largest city and bluest dot in the state. In years past, it’s been attacks on our already anemic public transit and our already horrible pedestrian safety. But the latest expression of that MAGA M.O. against my city has been through a now-infamous bill designated HB 1136. The bill, innocuously named “School corporation reorganization,” is very intentionally targeted at the largest public school systems in Indiana by dissolving public schools in urban areas where charter schools are more successful. Since the GOP in Indiana (like in other states) has been diverting public funds from public education to charter schools for decades, driving public schools into crisis and forcing parents to choose charter and public schools if they want their children to have a meaningful education, this is essentially the legislative equivalent of the childish “stop hitting yourself” bullying technique.

Much has been written about the weakness of the charter school idea as currently implemented; about how for-profit charter schools are discriminatory in their admissions (some even calling them “modern-day segregation academies“), or about how they’re more likely to hire less-qualified educators, or prone to financial corruption and mismanagement of funds which can leave students without a school to attend when they go bankrupt. They also tend to reject special needs students, or expel underperforming students, or end up being run by would-be mobsters.

Locally, the charter schools in Indianapolis have had a terrible track record. More than once per year since 2001, Indianapolis has seen charter schools close for poor performance, for cheating on standardized tests, for using public funds on political campaigns, and for literally just…disappearing. Statistically almost a third of Indianapolis charter schools fail, but some of the ones that stick around employ draconian discipline for the most minor of infractions, and more than half of them perform significantly worse than their public school counterparts.

Despite all of this, Indiana State Representative Jake Teshka (who, it must be noted, represents no school districts who would be affected by his bill) proposed HB 1136 in early January, which would transfer control of the schools in five Indiana school districts to charter schools. One of those districts, Indianapolis Public Schools, is where my children are enrolled. We love our school, and almost all of the parents I know do, too.

Naturally, public outcry ensued. After IPS sent an email to parents about the proposed change (and the district’s fate under it), a parents’ advocacy group spun up essentially overnight, speaking in hearings at the State House and motivating other parents to act. The bill received a flurry of local press attention. And in our current political climate, you would be forgiven for expecting such action to do effectively nothing; after all, in Washington, they don’t. Honestly, in Indiana, they often don’t.

But this time, they did. Seemingly as a result of the overwhelming public outcry, the Indiana House Education Committee has declined to entertain the bill any further. HB 1136 is dead.

And it’s not dead because of something Democrats did (they hold less than a third of the seats on the Education Committee), though their voices in support of IPS and in opposition of the bill have been welcome. It’s dead because citizens made enough noise about it. At the risk of sounding maudlin, we did it. And that gives me a lot of hope about the future.

Now, is there a chance that its language will make it into other bills before the legislative session is over? Are there other bills that threaten my children’s beloved school, in one way or another? Is Governor Braun’s tax plan still threatening to pull funding away from a public education system that’s already severely underfunded? Are Republicans still trying to exert their control over the city of Indianapolis? Is there a possibility that HB 1136 was never intended to pass as-written in the first place, or that it was proposed as a way to sneak a less-awful but still-bad bill across the finish line?

Yes, to all of those things. But for now, HB 1136 is dead. It’s dead because we stood up to it. And in this world made bleak by a Republican party whose tactics I don’t recognize (or at least didn’t before 2015), that’s brought me a little bit of hope this morning.

Flipping the Bird: How to Mastodon

Last time, we talked about the options for replacing Twitter if you want to “flip the bird.” I’ve made the choice to switch to Mastodon, at least to start; and I’ve really been enjoying it. If you’d like to make the jump, even if only to try it out, I’m here to help.

First of all, you should know that, despite Mastodon’s reputation for complication, that’s really more of a messaging problem than a real problem. Don’t worry; despite a couple of hiccups and bumps in the road, it’s actually set up pretty much exactly like email. If you have set up an email account, you can set up a Mastodon account. And I’m here to help.

tl;dr: If you can understand email, you can understand Mastodon. Don’t stress about choosing a server (instance); it changes very little about how you use the network, and switching is easy and lossless if you change your mind later.

What is Mastodon?

On the surface, Mastodon looks like a capable Twitter competitor (more technically known as a “microblogging social network”). It offers a 500-character limit on text posts, the ability to upload up to four pieces of media per post, the ability to edit posts, a “feed,” hashtags, following…all the basics.

But it’s different from Twitter in one key way: Mastodon is federated. We’ll talk more about that in the next article, as well as answering some other frequently asked questions; but what you need to know now is that it is not run by or beholden to any one operator. You can access the entire social network from any server, and you can pick up and move from one server to another in seconds.

The How-To

How do I join Mastodon?

People try to make a big deal out of how to join Mastodon. But don’t fall for it. It’s dead simple: just go to joinmastodon.org and click “Create Account,” or download the mobile app and tap “Get Started.” And here, admittedly, is where Mastodon’s first messaging hiccup can be found.

How do I choose a server?

This honestly isn’t as big a deal as it sounds. Most guides start with a long diatribe about this part of the process, but it’s actually pretty simple: scroll down the list at joinmastodon.org/servers (or in the “get started” section of the app) and choose one you vibe with. The exact one you choose doesn’t really matter any more than the exact email provider you choose really matters.

But if I want to follow my friends, don’t I have to be on the same server?” Nope! With a few minor exceptions (usually related to bad behavior), anyone on any server can interact with anyone on any other server if they want. Just like email; you don’t have to have a Hotmail account to email people on Hotmail.

Do they have different features?” Not really, for the most part. Again, just like email, there are a couple of standard features; some servers might add a couple of bells and whistles (a longer post character limit here, a different visual design there), but for the most part you’ll get the same features on any server you join; and the Mastodon Server Covenant is an attempt to make sure they’re all safe.

But what if I choose wrong?” If you find that the server you’re a part of doesn’t meet your needs for one reason or another, just pack up and move to another. It’s easier than getting a new email address, because your follows and followers come with you.

Can you just decide for me?” Okay, okay. Check out mastodon.social, universeodon.com, and mindly.social. See if any of those catch your fancy.

How do I finish setting up my account?

After you’ve chosen a server, you’ll need to click “Create Account” in the top right if you’re on the desktop version; but if you’re on the mobile app, you should be taken straight to the next step.

After that, on both platforms, you’ll see the rules for the server in question. Note that this isn’t some super duper long license agreement; on most servers, you’ll have a half dozen, maybe ten rules to follow; usually in the general vein of “don’t do anything illegal and respect others.” You don’t have to give away any rights to participate on Mastodon. Kinda nice, isn’t it?

Once you’ve accepted the rules, just fill out the signup form and verify your email, exactly the way you would on any other online service.

How do I follow people?

Like any other social media service, you follow other people by typing in their username in the search box and clicking “follow.” The wrinkle is that usernames on Mastodon are composed of two parts—exactly like an email address. First comes the user’s handle (mine is “@ilinamorato”). Then comes the server where the user is based, which is formatted just like the end of an email address (mine is “@mastodon.social”). Put them both together, and you have a full Mastodon username (@[email protected]).

Here’s where the second Mastodon Messaging Mistake comes in: if you’re on the desktop version of Mastodon, you should always look up profiles this way when you want to follow them. The search bar is at the top of the “Explore” tab; just paste the full Mastodon username into that bar and follow them from the search result that comes up. If you view a profile on their server instead of yours, you’ll be faced with a login page—and that can get confusing. So just copy the username (the full username!) into the search bar on your server and follow them from there. And if you use the mobile app—you probably don’t have to worry about any of this!

How do I tell people my handle so they can follow me?

On your profile, you should see a Share link. You can just use that, simple as anything.

Or you can tell people your Mastodon username the way you tell them your email address: by giving your handle first, then your server. They can paste that into their search bar and follow you easily.

Why is it so empty here?

Probably because you aren’t following anyone! Mastodon has no algorithm; you just get a chronological feed of every post by the people you follow, with no recommended posts. You can watch the “federated” feed (which is a firehose of every post by every user on every other server that your server knows about) or the “local” feed (a slightly less overwhelming firehose of every post by every user on your server); but the best way to get content on Mastodon is to follow people, or hashtags.

• • •

And that’s it! Everything after this is just answering FAQs. I’ll have a follow up post in a bit with some of those questions, but this is all you really need to know to have a great time on federated social media!

On the Ludological Decisions of an Oligarch

I’ve been trying to figure out what it is I find concerning about Elon Musk, but I think it’s this: he plays life like a game.

The people I know in real life who play it like that are insufferable, but Musk has the money to force other people to play it too.

Life isn’t a game.

I used to be a fan of his; largely because of SpaceX, which I’m still partial to. But he plays SpaceX like a game: rather than seeking excellence or science, he seems to seek spectacle in space; something NASA and ULA don’t do as much.

I used to want a Tesla, but he’s been playing that company like a game, too; all the work from home shenanigans, all the insistence on things being done his way, his attempt to rewrite the history of the company to get his name listed as founder.

The Boring Company is a game. The Hyperloop is a vaporware game that really only exists in concept so he can sell more Teslas. OpenAI doesn’t have much to do with Musk anymore, but it’s still kind of run like a game.

His family is a game, his sexual assault accusations are a game, his political affiliation is a game, the Ukraine-Russia war is a game. He makes his moves, he chuckles and giggles, he makes a pun, he posts a meme, and he goes on to his next move in the game.

Now he’s bought Twitter as a game, and I’m expecting him to run it as a game. Could this be when he finally gets serious and actually treats something with the gravity it deserves? Sure. But I’m not holding my breath.

Having fun with things, being whimsical, nothing wrong with any of that. But there’s a difference between that and treating other people’s lives (and the big forces that move people’s lives) as if they have no stakes that matter.

Because they don’t, to him. He has enough money to make ludological decisions about the lives of other people, while remaining insulated from their consequences himself. Every rich person does. But he has taken the additional step of assuming there ARE no consequences.

It feels like the reign of a clown king, holding unchecked power and facing no repercussions for his actions.

It feels like there should be a resistance.

I don’t much care who runs Twitter. But what I do care about is that people are cared for, that the helpless are helped, and that the voiceless have voice. That people are treated with dignity and worth.

And I don’t think you can gamify that.

At this the whole assembly said Amen

In Nehemiah 5, the people of Israel were fresh out of captivity and barely had two coins to rub together; and on top of that, there was a famine. Nehemiah, the governor of Israel at that time, heard their cries.

Now the men and their wives raised a great outcry against their fellow Jews. Some were saying, “We and our sons and daughters are numerous; in order for us to eat and stay alive, we must get grain.”

Others were saying, “We are mortgaging our fields, our vineyards and our homes to get grain during the famine.”

Still others were saying, “We have had to borrow money to pay the king’s tax on our fields and vineyards.”

I’d like to point out that these are debts entered into voluntarily. They chose to take out a loan, and they were paying it faithfully and still going under. But Nehemiah was not mad at the borrowers. He didn’t tell them “you should’ve thought of how you’d repay it before you borrowed it!” No, he instead spoke angrily to the lenders.

“Give back to them immediately their fields, vineyards, olive groves and houses, and also the interest you are charging them—one percent of the money, grain, new wine and olive oil.”

So, basically, debt forgiveness. The lenders agree to do so. Now, I’m on the record warning that Israel is a church and also a nation; and we run into problems if we try to conflate the two in our modern context. But check this out (v13):

At this the whole assembly said, “Amen,” and praised the Lord. And the people did as they had promised.

Notice that the “whole assembly” praised the Lord. Not just the borrowers, but the people who had already paid off their loans and even the lenders! The people of God rejoiced at the canceling of debt. Israel, as a church, rejoiced at what their governor had done on behalf of Israel, as a nation.

Some of my brothers and sisters need to do more praising and less grumbling. Yes, it’s unfair.

So is grace.

• • •

Scripture quotations from Nehemiah 5, NIV.

Severing Indianapolis

Here’s a map of Indianapolis.

While it might seem innocuous, note where the interstates are, and the color of the neighborhoods through which they run.

The map is a 1937 redlining map, outlining neighborhoods where white people and black people were allowed to buy houses. To be clear, the red areas were (and in most cases still are) majority black neighborhoods.

See how none of them go through the white neighborhoods, indicated by green and blue, even when it would’ve been a more direct or logical path for the interstate to take?

Look at Fountain Square. The South Split cuts it off from downtown almost entirely. Access to the neighborhood from the city is essentially only possible via one street. After the interstate, the neighborhood was decimated; formerly a working-class neighborhood of Black people, Fountain Square collapsed. It’s only recently become desirable again through the efforts of artists and community organizers. A similar story could be told about my own neighborhood of Windsor Park, or Martindale, Brightwood, anywhere on the Near East or South Side.

The interstates in Indianapolis were built in the mid-1970s, two decades after the civil rights movement began; eight years after the assassination of MLK and Robert F. Kennedy’s famous calming speech in what is now Kennedy-King Park (now also cut off from downtown by I-70). It wasn’t over then, and it isn’t over now. The biggest monument to racism in Indianapolis is a road specifically built through minority neighborhoods to allow white people to come downtown quickly and easily flee back to their suburbs without going through “dangerous” areas.

During his speech, Kennedy said, “What we need in the United States is not division; what we need in the United States is not hatred; what we need in the United States is not violence and lawlessness, but is love, and wisdom, and compassion toward one another, and a feeling of justice toward those who still suffer within our country, whether they be white or whether they be black…the vast majority of white people and the vast majority of black people in this country want to live together, want to improve the quality of our life, and want justice for all human beings that abide in our land.”

We have so far to go.

Some might ask, “now what?” And I honestly think we should get rid of the interstates inside 465; but more immediately (and probably more helpfully) we should acknowledge how we white Indianapolis-ians have benefitted directly at the expense of Black residents so recently and work to see what systems exist in our city today that must be addressed if we are to truly live without division.

• • •

Sources:

Map and context

Full text of Kennedy’s speech

A history of Fountain Square’s separation from downtown

On George Floyd

I’m pro-life. That’s why I’m grieved that George Floyd’s mother was given an extremely late-term abortion against her will by the Minneapolis Police Department.

I’m for rule of law. That’s why I’m furious that George Floyd’s guilt or innocence was not established in a court of law before his sentencing or execution.

I’m generally for smaller government intrusion on our lives. That’s why I’m concerned that the closest expression of government in the life of George Floyd committed such a broad overreach as to kill him.

I’m a fan of the Constitution. That’s why I’m upset that George Floyd’s Constitutional rights to free speech, due process, life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness, security in his person against unreasonable seizure, and protection against cruel and unusual punishment were all taken from him without writ or cause. That’s why I’m upset that the people protesting his death are being denied the right to peaceably assemble, forcing them to assemble unpeaceably (because when peaceable assembly is prohibited, unpeaceable assembly is required. That’s literally the story of the American revolution). That’s why I’m upset that the press is being denied their right to cover these events.

But more than any of those things, I’m a Christian. I believe that people are made in the image and likeness of God. That’s why I’m worried about the officer’s callous disregard for that image in George Floyd, and the same disregard in (thankfully fewer this time) Christians who would profess the same belief whenever it would concern a white man.

I haven’t spoken much about this, because what is there to say? Yes, if you were upset by Kaepernick’s knee but not by the knee on George Floyd’s neck, you need to examine your idols. That was said much better than by me. Yes, the commodification of life leads to looting when life is taken unjustly. That was said much better than by me. Yes, Trump’s rhetoric has encouraged this behavior and the reaction against it. That was said much better than by me.

But I was a Republican, so I see in this injustice something that need not be—should not be—a partisan issue, something that Republicans like I was can get behind. And I am a Christian, so I see the intersection here of divine grief and worldly sorrow that Christians (Evangelical and not) can get behind.

So I guess I must speak now.

• • •

This post was originally on Facebook. Apparently this is a problem, because it was removed without notice or explanation. So I’ve put it up here.

INTEGRITAS

In 1939, the English Heraldic Authority granted a coat of arms to Joseph Edward Davies featuring lions, chevrons, a hand holding a spear, and a scroll with the word “INTEGRITAS” (Latin for Integrity, obviously). Davies was the third husband of Majorie Merriweather Post, a philanthropist, socialite, and owner of the Post Cereal Company after her father’s death in 1895.

integritas

She was the wealthiest woman in the United States for some time, and commissioned a lavish estate in Palm Beach, Florida. The 126-room, 110,000-square-foot home was willed to the National Park Service upon her death in 1973, in the hopes that it would be used for state visits or as a retreat for US Presidents. A “winter White House” of sorts.

The NPS was sadly unable to maintain the property, and in 1981 it was returned to the Post Foundation by an act of Congress. The Post Foundation put the property up for sale, and it was purchased in 1985 by a real estate speculator and businessman, who turned the estate into a members-only club and resort, then turning the management of the property over to his wife (interestingly, this owner would also eventually have three spouses). He also took a liking to the coat of arms granted to the original owner’s husband, appropriating it for himself against the rules of the English Heraldic Authority. Before deploying it as his own, he replaced the word “INTEGRITAS” with his own last name.

Ironically, Post’s home, named “Mar-a-Lago” (Spanish for “Sea-to-Lake”) eventually served the function she had hoped it would serve, when the estate’s new owner was elected President of the United States in 2016 and immediately began using it as a Presidential retreat. Also ironically, the man who stole a coat of arms and replaced the word “integrity” on it with his own name is now embroiled in one of the most conspicuously fraught combinations of scandals in US presidential history.

trump

It gets more interesting.  When Donald Trump tried to open a golf club in Scotland using the coat of arms, his application for the trademark was rejected because the coat of arms was not his to use.  So, when the club opened in 2012, he instead used a manufactured, unofficial coat of arms.  The new version moves the lion to the top of the shield, giving him the spear and the motto “Numquam Concedere” (Latin for “Never Give Up”); it also adds an extra chevron, and includes – I am not making this up – a two-faced eagle.

numquamconcedere

As my wife said when I discovered this story, “we really are living in a novel.”

Source for much of the information for this story was this New York Times article.

Things Donald Trump Doesn’t Know

This list is intended to be updated regularly as new information becomes available.

  • Donald Trump didn’t know that Vladimir Putin invaded Ukraine in 2014, despite it being one of the most reported stories of the last two years, a major destabilizing factor for Eastern Europe ever since, and a contributor to the imminent threat of war between Ukraine and Russia.
  • Donald Trump thought that Brexit was a Scottish Independence referendum, despite the fact that Scotland voted overwhelmingly to remain in the UK during that 2014 vote, but voted overwhelmingly to remain in the EU during that 2016 referendum.
  • Donald Trump doesn’t know how to run a business.  Trump-owned businesses have declared bankruptcies four times, costing literally thousands of people to lose their jobs, and despite several bailouts from his own father. Despite (his own) popular opinion, his only major financial successes have been a few hotels and a television show. His failures, however, are numerous; in addition to the four bankruptcies, he has run nine semi-successful companies into the ground; no non-building property that he has ever taken over survived his management.
  • Donald Trump doesn’t know that the Constitution refuses him the ability to negotiate down the nation’s debt. And he doesn’t know that doing so would essentially destroy our ability to borrow money in the future (at best) or wreck the world economy entirely, plunging us into yet another global recession (at worst).
  • Donald Trump does not understand that the deterring factor in owning nuclear weapons is not in using them, but simply in having them. He does not understand that using them would (not could, but would) activate Mutually Assured Destruction responses that would destroy the planet. He has also considered using nuclear weapons in Europe, and is unaware that the president does not have the power to declare war.
  • Donald Trump is unaware that a wall between the United States and Mexico would alienate the government of that nation, removing one of our major trade partners and political allies on the world stage, and leave us vulnerable to attack or (again) recession. This is not speculation; the Mexican government has said as much.
  • Donald Trump does not know that leaving NAFTA would cost the United States 3.5 million jobs and plunge us into a recession.
  • Donald Trump does not know that the Constitution does not give him the power to “open up” libel laws and sue journalistic organizations that he does not agree with.
  • Donald Trump does not know that Hispanics did not come up with the taco bowl.
  • Donald Trump doesn’t know how to make a profit.  After beginning his career in 1976 with a value of around $200 million (about $846 million in 2016 dollars), he’s managed to increase it to $4.5 billion by today.  Leaving aside the fact that a little less than 1/4 of that fortune comes from tax subsidies in New York alone, and another 1/4 of it is the inflation-adjusted value of the original money his father gave him, if he had placed that $200m into an index fund (one of the lowest-risk investments available) and reinvested the dividends, his value would be around $12 billion.  The fact that he didn’t do that means that he’s not a good businessman, and he’s not even very good at faking it.

One or two of these statements could be slip-ups or bad info. But all of them? Advocating policy that would cause major recessions in three different ways, global war in two different ways, and at least two different international incidents, not to mention his clear disdain for the U.S. Constitution, do not in any way sound like “competency” to me.