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

 

 

 

Census 2020 compromised by Trump's witch hunt

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO -- Here's a riddle for you: What happens every 10 years, tells us how to spend our government's money wisely and is responsible for ensuring that our democracy doesn't fall to pieces?

It's the U.S. census, the decennial count that, among other things, helps determine how much federal funding goes to each community and ensures they are all represented by the right number of legislators.

The 2020 census has been in peril for years now due to a death-by-a-million-cuts to its operating budget, and it's also been crippled by the Trump administration's insistence on asking a question about citizenship status.

In late January, a federal judge ordered the question removed, citing clear violation of the rules governing the process of adding new inquiries to the already long list.

However, President Trump wants what he wants, and the administration is appealing.

The issue may go as far as the Supreme Court, which will cost the Census Bureau money, time and attention that could instead be dedicated to training and hiring the approximately half a million temporary workers it needs to canvass the country.

Every decade, the Census Bureau is laser focused on using what amounts to a shoestring budget to get the word out that every man, woman and child must be counted accurately in order to call the exercise a success.

But it seems as though that possibility has already been dashed by the Trump administration's insistence on turning off large swaths of people who don't want to answer the citizenship question because they fear that an honest reply will somehow be used against them. Others don't want to answer the question out of solidarity with foreign-born residents who have been relentlessly targeted by the administration for harassment based solely on their legal or illegal immigration status.

"There is confirmed evidence that the damage has already been done to the 2020 census," said Arturo Vargas, the chief executive officer of the National Association of Latino Elected Officials (NALEO) Educational Fund. "We have done surveys and focus groups on Asian- and African-Americans ... and so many others, and all the research shows that constituents in those groups have a fear of participating in the census, and are very skeptical that their information can be shared with confidence."

Similarly, a summary of the comments received on the 2020 Census Federal Register notice found that more than 92 percent were related to the inclusion of the citizenship question -- and 99 percent of those comments were against including the question.

It's no wonder.

The query implies that the aggressively anti-immigrant Trump administration will use the data to further step up deportations.

And in an era when people are being asked for their "papers" in cars, on buses and trains, and at checkpoints far from the border, it's easy to imagine that many people -- even legal immigrants and U.S.-born citizens, who have, yes, been hauled into custody on suspicion of being undocumented -- would be quite wary of strangers purporting to be from the government asking all kinds of questions about their lives. That goes double for mixed-status immigrant families.

Supposing that the citizenship question is successfully kept off the 2020 census questionnaire, the cat's pretty much already out of the bag.

"We already have a well-documented undercount of certain population groups, including racial and ethnic minorities, immigrants, persons without a stable residence or in multiple-family homes, and young children," said Julie Dowling, a University of Illinois Latina/Latino studies professor, in an April 2018 interview on the university's blog. Dowling wrote about how people respond to race and ethnicity questions on the census in her 2014 book, "Mexican Americans and the Question of Race."

In the interview, Dowling concluded: "Given what we know about who often gets missed by the census count, the citizenship question is likely to increase the undercount, particularly of groups with higher percentages of immigrants. ... We know that 400,000 Latino children under the age of 5 were not counted in the 2010 census. With the addition of a citizenship question, I expect this number will increase. With noncitizens being fearful of filling out the form, we will miss not only these immigrants, but their U.S.-born citizen children as well. This could have dramatic effects on counting of ... communities with a high proportion of immigrants, with dire consequences for states like California, Texas, New York and Illinois."

This means these communities would be invisible in the eyes of government. And such a lack of representation would be a momentous erosion of our cherished democracy.

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

(c) 2019, Washington Post Writers Group

 

 

What Tom Brokaw got dead wrong about Latinos

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO -- I don't usually write about the shortage of Latino journalists in American newsrooms because the issue is well-known to those who have the power to change it (yet never do) and dull inside baseball to everyone else.

However, the issue was brought to the fore on national TV Sunday morning when Tom Brokaw essentially whipped out a salt shaker, seasoned his foot, stuffed it in his mouth and proceeded to chew during NBC's political show "Meet the Press."

He started out by noting the rise of an "extraordinary, important, new constituent in American politics: Hispanics." Then he immediately began spouting false information.

He declared with complete confidence that Latinos "will come here and all be Democrats." First of all, the country of origin of most Latinos 35 and younger is already the United States. And furthermore, both polls and actual election voting data show that large swaths of Hispanics are Republican and voted for Trump in the last two elections.

Then Brokaw really chomped down: "I also happen to believe that the Hispanics should work harder at assimilation. That's one of the things I've been saying for a long time. You know, they ought not to be just codified in their communities but make sure that all their kids are learning to speak English, and that they feel comfortable in the communities. And that's going to take outreach on both sides, frankly."

This is plain and simple cluelessness about Hispanics in America.

Latinos in the U.S. have been studied to death by academics, statisticians and government agencies, and there's no question that they assimilate as fast as other ethnic groups historically have, and that it's even happening so quickly that Latinos are starting to worry about a loss of language and culture that aids in family cohesion and other issues of identity.

I fretted that my two monolingual sons could not communicate with their Spanish-only grandmother, and then she passed away, leaving no one in my entire family who didn't primarily use English in their day-to-day lives.

English is so commonplace among Latinos that they get most of their news from major English-language media organizations -- who are failing them if their most respected journalists can't even be bothered to learn basic data points about one of the largest populations in this country.

There was much outrage over Brokaw's comments -- which he weakly backpedaled via Twitter, offering an apology that felt forced. He then topped it off with a lame joke implying it was all an effort to get attention.

There was anger and, frankly, hurt, over Brokaw's remark about assimilation -- and his equally offensive anecdote suggesting that older white Americans have anxiety about "brown grandbabies." But there was also a sense of outrage that once again a white man was on an important national TV show serving as an unquestioned expert on Hispanics.

Veteran journalists like Maria Hinojosa and Ray Suarez are ready and willing, as am I, to talk about the border, immigration, Latinos and much more. Others who would be more than eager to talk about these issues include journalists like Tanzina Vega of The TakeAway, political-show anchor Soledad O'Brien, the investigative reporter Aura Bogado and so many others

To restate the obvious, in an age when news is losing its credibility and fake news is proliferating, no one needs non-Hispanic "experts" misinforming the public and turning off one of the fastest-growing demographics in the country.

That said, let's end on a high note.

Many Asians, Latinos and Native Americans often lament that most organizations that pride themselves on diversity and inclusion end their efforts with black folks. But let me say definitively that -- even though it would be better if organizations accurately reflected this country -- we sure are glad to have our black brothers and sisters around to speak up for us.

As the "Meet the Press" episode wrapped up, the last word went to Yamiche Alcindor, the White House correspondent for the PBS "NewsHour." Of Haitian descent, Alcindor set the record straight:

"We also need to adjust what we think of as America. You're talking about assimilation. I grew up in Miami, where people speak Spanish, but their kids speak English. And the idea that we think Americans can only speak English, as if Spanish and other languages wasn't always part of America, is, in some ways, troubling."

It is terribly upsetting when educated people like Brokaw reveal their common misconception that bilingualism or biculturalism is anything less than an asset in an increasingly diverse America and global economy.

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

(c) 2019, Washington Post Writers Group

 

 

 

That Gillette ad - not how we should be approaching #MeToo conversations

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO -- It seems like every week there's a new Rorschach test that determines what kind of person you are -- and, therefore, whether you're someone's political ally or enemy.

The one that most recently emerged to annoy and inflame was a Gillette ad, which debuted its post-#MeToo messaging that we all need to dump "the best a man can get" for "the best a man can be."

The 30-second television spot, and its minute-and-a-half longer version, depicted men throwing off the apologist phrase "boys will be boys," and it soon set off men's-rights activists, who felt the portrayals were demeaning.

The ad's message was: "Bullying. Harassment. Is this the best a man can get? It's only by challenging ourselves to do more, that we can get closer to our best. Instead of excuses, we need to make a change."

What some men intuited, however, was that Gillette was unfairly wagging its finger at their nonexistent boorishness and so-called toxic masculinity. Other men were infuriated that the ad portrayed them as having no self-control and seemed to suggest that attempting to speak to a pretty girl walking down the street amounted to an action that requires a friend's intervention.

Meanwhile, most women reacted positively to the ad, according to Crimson Hexagon, a social-media analytics and consumer-insights company. Of the women who engaged in social-media conversations about the ad -- including Twitter retweets -- 51 percent expressed joy. And of the 28 percent of women who felt negatively about the Gillette campaign, the feelings were mostly about the topic of toxic masculinity rather than about the ad itself.

Still, other women wrote lengthy rebuttals about the piece, charging that it was paternalistic or that it attacked boys and men.

So many hot takes! And by design: The ad was so general that it was speaking at the same time about and to all men -- and only some men -- allowing for every possible lens to be pointed at it.

Calling for an "honest reckoning with boyhood," Pennsylvania psychologist Michael Reichert wrote on the website of Psychology Today: "Where, we should be asking, does male misbehavior come from? How are so many boys transformed from innocent, empathically attuned human hearts to become perpetrators of sexual harassment and assault in later years? One research finding many are still stunned by is that, were they not afraid of getting in trouble, 40 percent of college males say they might force a girl to have sex."

These are important questions that deserve careful deliberation driven by both data and the voices of real women and men.

But in this context, they're undermined by the sheen of commercialism. We are, after all, just participating in giving big, rich corporations -- Gillette, and ultimately, Procter & Gamble -- exactly what they want: attention, chatter, engagement and head space.

Looked at from the marketing perspective, we have to ask: Did this ad succeed?

If Gillette just wanted to wave its flag with a bid for relevance among (a) the women who on average make most of a household's grocery purchases, or (b) men who consider Gillette their dad's brand and get their own razors through the mail from a shave club, the answer is: maybe.

But there's no telling yet whether the ad will drive actual sales of razors.

Laura Wasson, the creative director at the Maxwell advertising agency, wrote in AdAge, the advertising trade journal, that brands who want to toe this perilous line should first ask themselves: "Are we preaching to the choir or just preaching? While the message clicked for some (including many women), it made others feel uncomfortable or downright angry. And who can blame them? No one likes being told they're bad and then asked to buy something."

Before taking and articulating a passionate position, people (aka "consumers") must ask themselves if they really want to join in a manufactured national "conversation" on a topic of vital importance -- especially a conversation so complicated that it can't possibly be addressed in a brief ad designed to sell razors to a mass audience.

That's surely not the best we can get -- or be -- on an issue as thorny and multifaceted as the #MeToo movement.

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

(c) 2019, Washington Post Writers Group

Don't forget about the migrant children still in crisis

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO -- It's the end of January. The government shutdown is dominating headlines, holiday credit-card bills are coming due, and we're gearing up for the Super Bowl.

Life seems very different from last summer, when babies, toddlers and other children seeking refuge were being held in deplorable conditions in government facilities after being apprehended at the border.

Yet they're still there.

In fact, a new government report says there were thousands more immigrant children purposely separated from their parents at the border than had previously been stated. The Department of Health and Human Services, however, has said it is unable to provide a more specific number than the nearly 3,000 kids that the government has previously enumerated.

As those who monitor the government's treatment of immigrants have always surmised, the Trump administration's "zero-tolerance" policy -- resulting in family separations -- was specifically designed to deter migrants from Central America and Mexico from attempting to plead for asylum at the border.

The truth was revealed in a leaked policy memo given to NBC by the office of Sen. Jeff Merkley, D-Ore. The memo said that the plan was to separate the children from their parents to ensure that the kids would be unable to demand their legal right to asylum hearings -- or represent themselves without parents or legal counsel at such hearings.

The memo also discussed clamping down on several existing programs, including making it harder for U.S. families to take "unaccompanied alien children" into their homes while their claims are processed, restricting the Special Immigrant Juveniles program (which makes green cards available to children who have been abused, abandoned or neglected by a parent) and expediting asylum claims so that immigrants "would not have years with the ability to work in this U.S. while their cases are pending." An unknown commenter noted the Obama administration attempted to implement this tactic but "failed at in 2014."

The point was that "if ... processes [expediting asylum cases] were implemented consistently, there would be substantial deterrent impact" against potential asylum seekers, according to the memo.

If you aren't keeping score of the Trump administration's misstatements and outright lies about the border situation, let's recall that Department of Homeland Security Secretary Kirstjen Nielsen denied last June that the administration was doing anything different from the Obama administration. She also said that the Trump administration did "not have a policy of separating families at the border" but was simply enforcing existing law.

Last week, after the leaked memo circulated, the Southern Poverty Law Center and the Legal Aid Justice Center of Virginia refiled a prior complaint as a class-action lawsuit on behalf of all the unaccompanied immigrant children "who have made the long and perilous journey to the United States surviving trauma and fleeing violence and persecution in their home countries, only to find themselves detained by the federal Office of Refugee Resettlement (ORR) at sites around the country."

It states that "as a result of these policies, ORR has held tens of thousands of children across the country in custody for excessive amounts of time and has illegally and improperly denied them the opportunity to reunite with their families." It also asks that no more children be separated from their families.

"We were all horrified last summer, watching babies being ripped from their mothers' arms, but we're seeing that the same thing is still happening," said Mary Bauer, the deputy legal director of the Immigrant Justice Project at the Southern Poverty Law Center. "Despite what people think, [the Trump administration] didn't get rid of the most problematic parts of the policy. What's in place is still a quixotic system that isn't being transparent about why kids aren't being released to family members and, sometimes, to parents. They don't know what they're supposed to do, they're told the children will get out but then there's always something else [that prevents reunification]."

The Trump administration has always contended that its tough guidelines for releasing children are designed to ensure that kids don't end up in the hands of human traffickers and other nefarious predators.

But if our government is detaining children and exploiting them by using them as deterrents in a failed effort to discourage migrants from fleeing their violent, ravaged homelands, then who are the real traffickers and nefarious predators in this scenario?

The answer will depend on whether the American people can stay tuned in to the suffering of the lost migrant children long enough to demand they be returned to their parents.

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

(c) 2019, Washington Post Writers Group

Julián Castro's presidential bid -- will the nice guy finish last?

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO -- It's possible that the worst legacy of the last three presidential elections is that we now expect our candidates to be Washington outsiders and "rock stars."

Like overstimulated children who have been battling aliens on the Xbox all day and are resistant to a peaceful bedtime story, we seem to now be programmed to look for celebrity, novelty or an indescribable pizzazz when deciding who should be our next president.

A year ago, the nation was enthralled with a possible Oprah Winfrey candidacy after the former daytime talk-show host made an inspirational speech at the Golden Globes ceremony.

As the idea churned out of control on social media, cooler heads urged restraint.

Ben Smith, editor-in-chief of BuzzFeed news, railed against the idea, suggesting that Democrats should not be looking for a future candidate who can outshine Donald Trump, but someone who is the opposite of our reality-star president -- "And that's where governors and senators with deep experience, proven political chops, and an unglamorous sense of normalcy come in."

But traditional, steady candidates don't drive web traffic.

Which is why most of the nation would be forgiven for saying "Who?!" if they were asked about Democrat Julian Castro, the former secretary of housing and urban development who launched his presidential bid on a recent sunny Saturday in his hometown of San Antonio, Texas.

"This morning, I rode the number 68 bus with my brother down Guadalupe Street as we did so many times as kids ... the same bus route that we used to take with my mother to get to school or to her work during the summer," Castro said, after opening his speech with a thank you for his mom, his wife and kids. He even thanked the press covering the event, adding that "they are the friend of the truth in this country."

That's nice.

But, isn't "nice" faint praise?

Perhaps not fainter than this gem from a 2010 New York Times Magazine profile about Castro titled "The Post-Hispanic Hispanic Politician": "He is cerebral, serious, self-contained and highly efficient. If he were an energy source, he'd be zero-emission."

That sounds about right.

I was out running my Saturday morning errands when a friend messaged me, asking if I was watching Castro's announcement.

I texted back: "No, I feel like he's the nice, clean guy your mom met and wanted you to date. He seems perfectly fine, but terribly boring. That's not fair, of course, but I'm just not interested, and I don't think his candidacy is going anywhere."

Ouch. That wasn't very nice of me. I've considered my words and have to wonder if I've fallen prey to expecting bells, whistles and entertainment from a candidate when what we need is a steady pair of hands.

Does the nation really want another Big Mac-eating, sunglasses-wearing, saxophone-playing dude on late-night TV, another savior figure who will accept a Nobel Peace Prize two minutes after moving into the White House, or another camera-ready egomaniac?

Only time will tell.

The only thing many of us political centrists are fairly sure of is that a magnificent orator, someone who is supposedly independent because of their self-funding candidacy, or an individual who can check a new demographic box for the history of the presidency isn't required.

Sure, it's ... nice ... that Castro could be the ethnic president who is palatable to a wide swath of the non-Hispanic electorate specifically because he's so all-American. But, realistically, the mood among many of the liberals I come across is one of wide-eyed terror that the Democratic Party is staring down the barrel of another four years of a Trump presidency because no one with the juice to defeat him has, so far, emerged.

Though relevant experience, political savvy and an even keel sounds like the balm America needs in order to heal our deep partisan wounds, the Democratic presidential nominee will almost certainly be someone who can inspire breathless adoration.

And it's easy to imagine a thoughtful, nice candidate getting ignored by a manic, social-media frenzied society that seems to valorize passion above all other qualities.

Ultimately, Julian Castro may only succeed in becoming another footnote in history -- added to the short list of Hispanic men who have strived for the highest office in the land -- but perhaps his overwhelming decency can help elevate the tone of our political discourse, at least for a little while.

And who knows? Maybe this time the nice guy won't finish last. Stranger things have happened.

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

(c) 2019, Washington Post Writers Group

Hypocrisy on Amazon - and I plead guilty

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO -- Hypocrisy is a human condition. Everyone -- no matter how kind, respectful or generous -- occasionally engages in some form of it, either for his or her own benefit or because there are few, if any, alternatives.

I had two moments of facing my own hypocrisy last weekend as I stood in front of my beloved childhood Sears. Shuttered and ready to be redeveloped, the North Side store on Lawrence Avenue in Chicago was the first Sears, Roebuck & Co. retail location to be built from the ground up in 1925, according to Preservation Chicago's website.

Even though, logically, I know that Sears was the behemoth, price-slashing "everything store" disrupter of its time, it's still awful to see a cherished piece of your childhood disappear.

That pang, however, was nothing compared to the anger that welled up in me as I read the painful account of Austin Murphy in last month's edition of The Atlantic: "I Used to Write for Sports Illustrated. Now I Deliver Packages for Amazon."

It's nice, I suppose, that Murphy is making the best of what sounds like an absolutely horrible job. But most people who take work delivering packages in a vehicle that has bald tires and broken headlights are not in the privileged position in their lives that the author is in -- his wife makes plenty of money but he needs a little extra income to facilitate the refinancing of their home.

In this context, it's less devastating to learn that Murphy was inconvenienced by long days behind the wheel on a grueling schedule than reading that his black co-worker has to dress in as much Amazon-branded clothing as possible to stay safe on the job.

Murphy writes: "A woman had challenged him as he emerged from her side yard -- where he'd been dropping a package, as instructed. 'What are you stealing?' If you're a black man and your job is to walk up to a stranger's front door -- or, if the customer has provided such instructions, to the side or the back of the property -- then yes, rocking Amazon gear is a way to protect yourself, to proclaim, 'I'm just a delivery guy!'"

Though you feel terrible for the 57-year-old college-educated Murphy when he describes how difficult it is to find a place to relieve himself, it's worse to know that other grown adults who did not have the opportunity to attain higher education and have few other options and no safety net to fall back on are apparently riding around in clunkers hoping to find a place to go to the bathroom. This was the author's point, of course.

The reality is that many drivers don't find places willing to let them use the restroom. Which is why, I've just learned, YouTube videos of delivery drivers peeing into empty plastic bottles or in residential neighborhoods are a thing.

Many employees have leveled complaints about working conditions in Amazon warehouses (accusations range from no time for bathroom breaks to practices that have led to physical injuries, and some have said there is suffocating heat in the summer and freezing temperatures in the winter). Amazon has categorically denied that it mistreats employees, and recently raised its minimum wage for its workers to $15 an hour. There was even a profile in The New York Times that alleged white-collar misery at the corporate offices. Amazon rebutted those claims as well, arguing in part that quotes from employees were taken out of context.

So yes, I'm a hypocrite, because I've known of the accusations about unfair and unsafe working conditions, but I've not canceled my Prime membership, which I use (BEG ITAL)a lot(END ITAL). I also am syndicated by The Washington Post, which is owned by Amazon chief executive Jeff Bezos.

But, even if the accusations were all true, my opting-out of buying Amazon products would hardly make a dent in the company's bottom line. Boycotts rarely work, and people living outside of big cities often wouldn't have access to certain goods without Amazon.

For millions of Americans, Amazon's services and selection are more important than a few scattered news reports alleging mistreatment of its workers in the name of servicing our desire for fast shipping.

Like the rest of us, Amazon workers, especially its laborers, deserve humane work environments and conditions.

The behemoth isn't going anywhere anytime soon, so we need to start telling Amazon -- via tweets, Facebook comments, letters or emails to their customer-service accounts -- to treat their workers right.

Call, fax or email your elected representatives. Share allegations of mistreatment of Amazon workers with your network and ask them to demand an independent investigation, too.

Paying customers have more clout than mere onlookers, so the responsibility is on us -- companies often don't change until their adoring customer base demands it.

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

(c) 2019, Washington Post Writers Group

 

 

Michelle Obama's success linked to her many, unreplicable privileges

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO -- You may have heard that Michelle Obama's best-selling book "Becoming" is a well-written and fascinating story of a working-class Chicago girl who overcame obstacles to make it to the White House.

I'm not here to say otherwise -- I unabashedly loved this book.

But I did love it critically. Rest assured, the criticism isn't for Michelle Obama.

It's for anyone who reads this remarkable story and walks away believing the dreaded cliche about every person of color who broke barriers: Skin pigment, gender and race or ethnicity won't hamper those who work hard enough and persevere. And they'll live happily ever after.

If only.

Clearly, the former first lady is now living as close to a fairy tale life as any of us can imagine. And there's no question that she worked hard, sacrificed and endured after, for instance, her high school guidance counselor said she didn't think the girl then known as Michelle Robinson was "Princeton material."

She certainly persevered after, having graduated from Princeton, she eventually realized that being a lawyer was something she'd achieved to make others proud and not because the law inspired her or gave her purpose in life.

But the portion of America that worries about how our young people of modest means, our young immigrants and our children of color will ever close the academic, earnings and life-expectancy gaps with their white peers should not overlook the many privileges that Michelle Robinson enjoyed.

For one, though the Robinsons were considered working class, they lived with their great-aunt and uncle in a home that eventually became her mother and father's. This stability allowed the Robinsons to, as Michelle put it, make the kids the family's sole focus.

Both her parents worked and, by the time Michelle was in high school, had been "married nearly 20 years. Neither one of them had ever vacationed in Europe. They never took beach trips or went out to dinner. ... We were their investment, me and Craig. Everything went into us," Obama wrote.

Plus, the Robinson kids had all kinds of social capital.

Like preternaturally excellent parents who believed in letting their children manage their own affairs even when they were young. And access to piano lessons and recitals in downtown Chicago auditoriums given by their great-aunt -- who, incredibly, long ago sued Northwestern University for discrimination after having been denied a spot in the women's dorm. There were also several other relatives who had the experience of working in "respectable if not well-paying" professions.

There were trips to visit family in the South as well as to see relatives who had managed to move to the majority-white, well-heeled suburbs of Chicago.

There was great music, laughter, singing and -- most important of all -- the comfort of intact, nuclear families who lived in stable, safe neighborhoods with similar families, allowing for Michelle and Craig to enjoy being themselves in a cocoon of well-cared-for peers. One of Michelle's closest childhood friends was the daughter of the Rev. Jesse Jackson, resulting in unparalleled insight into one of the nation's most influential black leaders.

Sure, Michelle remembers a classmate who once asked her, "How come you talk like a white girl?" But one doesn't get the idea the Robinson children were oddballs among their peers for aspiring to attend college.

Absolutely none of these details detracts from the indefatigable effort and discipline Michelle dedicated to everything from changing careers to become a hospital executive, realizing the dream of having children, and then managing a family in the insanity that is Chicago, and eventually, national politics.

However, her story isn't as simplistic as the "poor South Side girl makes good" narrative you're likely to see from people who want her to be a perfect role model, or "proof" of the possibility of success for other young people of color.

As the Chicago teacher and education writer Ray Salazar put it in a recent essay on the Latino Rebels website, "My disappointment with Michelle Obama's autobiography [is that] the path she documents cannot be followed in today's world. Young people can and should find inspiration in her story. ... But the truth is the world that created Michelle Obama does not exist today."

She is a singular emblem of towering success, but her path to it isn't scalable right now.

That would require black and Latino students to have abundant stable and safe neighborhoods with plentiful jobs for their parents, good public schools and tightly knit communities with the resources and savvy to propel them.

Until that happens, no one should reasonably expect any young person without Robinson-level infrastructure to attain spectacular Obama-level results.

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

(c) 2019, Washington Post Writers Group

 

People hate Alexandria Ocasio-Cortz because of her youth

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO -- It must be true that the widest cultural gulfs have always been due to age.

This is the only charitable way to explain the simultaneous reactions of fanatical adoration and pearl-clutching disgust over a tweeted video of Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez dancing in college.

Not dirty dancing, mind you. Not suggestive or scantily clad or in any way undignified dancing. All the newly sworn-in Bronx congresswoman did in this 8-year-old video is some goofy (borderline geeky), happy, joyful, youthful twirling and hopping that would be perfectly appropriate for church.

But for all its innocence and charm, the outcry by Ocasio-Cortez's detractors was typically sexist, puerile and telling.

She was called a know-it-all, a clueless nitwit, a hag; one Twitter post suggested she stick to pole dancing. Meanwhile, her fans responded with overwhelmingly fawning declarations of support.

In coffee shops, hospital waiting rooms and bus stops, debates over the leaked video pitted people who had the tone of scolding, close-minded parents that think they're keeping the nation from getting itself into trouble against younger people who see a legitimately relatable politician.

Put it into perspective: Ocasio-Cortez graduated high school in 2007. The 2007 Mindset List, an annual compilation of facts about incoming college freshmen, designed to help professors understand the world view of their new students, had this to say about Ocasio-Cortez's cohort:

-- For them, "Ctrl + Alt + Del" is as basic as "ABC."

-- They have never gotten excited over a telegram, a long-distance call or a fax.

-- Bert and Ernie are old enough to be their parents.

-- There have never been dress codes in restaurants.

-- They have never seen a First Lady in a fur coat.

-- They never heard Howard Cosell call a game on television.

-- They have always been able to make photocopies at home and phone calls from planes.

Many people involved in the Ocasio-Cortez controversy glommed on to the idea that the Republican finger-waggers disapprove of women dancing, or of politicians sullying the solemnity of their elected office by cutting a rug -- who remembers any dust-up about British Prime Minister Theresa May or Donald Trump dancing while on-duty, or ex-Texas Gov. Rick Perry or former New Jersey Gov. Chris Christie jiggling it on network TV? But it isn't the dancing.

Nor is it her supposed hypocrisy for dressing well during her first days in Washington, even though she had said it would be difficult for her to scrape together enough money to move there before her new salary kicked in.

Some of it is surely the way in which she is -- gasp! -- proud to be Puerto Rican and unafraid to speak her mind about the inequality and economic issues she campaigned on.

But I'm betting that what gets stuck in her haters' craws the most is her youthfulness. Ed Rollins, a Republican political strategist, almost said as much, calling her a "little girl" with a "big mouth" on Lou Dobbs' cable TV show.

If you like Ocasio-Cortez, watching her be buoyant, graceful and fun is a breath of fresh air. If you dislike her, it's offensive to have idealistic, unjaded and lighthearted juvenescence shaken in your face.

This is especially so for a portion of the country -- older, white, non-college-educated -- that already feels threatened by the projections about "their country" becoming increasingly young, non-white and highly educated.

It's difficult getting old. The body hurts, opportunities dwindle, cultural currency goes away and people on TV and in the newspaper start talking -- some, gleefully -- about your generation dying off soon.

Think about how downright alien today's youth must seem to elders in their 60s and beyond -- especially those young people who see absolutely nothing wrong with videotaping themselves dancing in the halls of Congress, as Ocasio-Cortez did after her college video was leaked.

This is not to besmirch everyone eligible for Social Security. Politics being what it is, Ocasio-Cortez will always have a contingent of haters, people who openly deride her because they can't say she's "unlikable" in crowds that recognize that label for the naked misogyny it is.

There will always be people claiming she's "unqualified," even though Ocasio-Cortez has an undergraduate degree in international relations with a minor in economics and has worked as an educator, a publisher and a community organizer.

She'll never stop carrying the baggage of being a woman from an underrepresented population. But look on the bright side: At 29, Ocasio-Cortez will someday grow out of getting belittled for being young.

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

(c) 2019, Washington Post Writers Group

This New Year's, vow to add, not subtract

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO -- The term "self-care" is such a treacly cliche, conjuring up images of narcissistic millennials paying an arm and a leg to do yoga while cats or baby goats take a walk on them, mid-pose.

But after a year like 2018, this is a really good time to rethink the wisdom of New Year's resolutions.

Resolutions -- usually to lose weight, get more exercise, eat healthier, save money -- require resolve. That means determination, discipline and a sacrifice of some sort.

It's a well-meaning impulse driven by the symbolic start of a new calendar.

But why do we do this to ourselves every year? Why do we decide on a well-intentioned form of deprivation in January -- one of the coldest, bleakest months of the year in most parts of the country -- right when it's hardest to get outside for exercise and the dreaded tax season is around the corner?

It's a recipe for failure and, by some reports, a scant 8 percent of people who set New Year's resolutions actually succeed in keeping them.

Let's reimagine it.

Many resolutions involve taking something away -- such as favorite foods or time spent relaxing that's supposed to be funneled toward strenuous exercise.

We should be focusing on adding, not subtracting.

How about resolving to take the stairs as much as possible, rather than the escalator or elevator, instead of committing to an expensive gym membership? Or adding a serving of vegetables to one meal, every day; or selling something you rarely use in order to make a little cash?

How about the power move of vowing to enrich your life in ways that aren't readily measurable like your weight or bank balance?

Example: My husband and I are in such a food rut for our weekly dinner date that when we arrive to our usual places, the wait staff just put in our orders and set our drinks on the table before we've even gotten our coats off. Our resolution is to try 10 new restaurants in the next year.

This is a major departure from my usual punitive mindset when it comes to New Year's goals.

For the past few years, I've set unrealistic expectations for how much progress I can make at learning the piano -- resulting in disappointment that I wasn't able to master a certain piece and burnout from straining to practice daily.

This year I'm going to focus on trying to enjoy the time I am able to devote to practicing without beating myself up for not doing it "enough."

Plus, I'm taking a magic class.

Yes, a class taught by an expert magician to learn to do Chicago-style close-up magic.

Listen, a few months ago I looked at the Social Security system's actuarial tables and did the math: I've got about 45 years left. It wouldn't be very wise to spend them being hard on myself or ignoring all the crazy little interests I've always wanted to indulge.

The same goes for everyone else.

Being smart with your money and being healthy are important goals that should be attended to as lifestyle changes, not mere annual January gimmicks that fall by the wayside sometime around Groundhog Day. Do those things in a way that will last.

But also consider adding something to your life that could improve your mind, your spirit or your figurative heart (and maybe even your physical one).

Sign up for the classes in tap, ballroom or square dancing you always dreamed of. Take up an instrument or try singing lessons so you can actually join your co-workers at karaoke night.

Form a bowling league, learn to knit, start a podcast, write your novel, start juggling, make sculptures out of Legos, buy a paint-by-numbers oil-painting kit, volunteer at your local animal shelter, take free massive online open courses (MOOCs), start a side business, listen to great music, help someone learn how to read, donate blood or vow to brush your teeth after lunch.

And yes, if it sounds like fun, go take a yoga class in the hopes that a goat will stomp on your back.

Life is hard. It's full of work and inevitable setbacks, unpleasant surprises and soul-crushing news. Start your year by planning to nourish yourself instead of vowing starvation.

What's the worst thing that could happen (maybe getting nipped by a goat)? There's nothing wrong with adopting a youthful mindset and caring for yourself.

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

(c) 2019, Washington Post Writers Group

Hispanics will find the strength to meet 2019's challenges

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO -- Despite the myth of the monolithic Hispanic voting bloc whose sole concern is immigration, more than a decade of data has shown that education, health care, jobs and the economy have been the most pressing issues on Latinos' minds.

But this past year, after countless hate crimes against brown and bilingual people and a summer of children in cages at the border, it finally happened: Immigration shot to the top of the list of Hispanics' concerns.

Twenty percent of Hispanics said immigration (tied with the economy and inequality) is the most important problem facing the nation, with family separation and deportation among the other issues cited, according to an October Pew Research Center report.

Worse, Latinos' historically consistent optimism has finally faltered as well. Pew reports that 62 percent of Hispanics now say they're dissatisfied with the way things are going in the country, compared with 50 percent in 2017. Hispanic dissatisfaction hasn't been this high since the Great Recession in 2008, when 70 percent were pessimistic about the direction of the country.

In contrast, non-Hispanics are feeling better about the U.S. because of their perception that national economic conditions are "excellent" or "good."

In fact, there's really no decoupling of the effects of Latinos' negative feelings about life in the U.S. from the past three years of Donald Trump's candidacy and presidency. During this time, anyone with ties to Latin America has been made to feel like a criminal, an interloper and a threat to America -- regardless of whether their families have lived on U.S. soil for generations or arrived at the border seeking asylum.

Is it really a coincidence that the year of feeling bleak about our future in this country was topped off with a holiday season that was particularly difficult for Latinos, who are collectively mourning the recent deaths of two children, ages 7 and 8, while in custody of U.S. border patrol? Such deaths hadn't happened in over a decade.

These tragedies are but another layer in a pile of woes: Trump started 2018 by saying that Haiti, El Salvador, and certain nations in Africa were "shithole countries." In addition to the human-rights violations at the U.S.-Mexico border, deportations in the interior of the country have stepped-up, as have the constant assaults on protections for young, undocumented "Dreamers." And there continue to be worries about the economic and emotional pain Puerto Rico is experiencing more than a year after being nearly destroyed by Hurricane Maria.

Limits were imposed on temporary protected status for refugees from Latin America and, of course, there were threats to forestall, and in some cases revoke, U.S. citizenship for current green-card holders. These are but a few notable issues from 2018, and I could go on listing the indignities, challenges and low points.

But I won't because, despite the bad news, there is always still hope for people who can trace their family trees to somewhere else.

Pew also reports, "When asked to assess how the U.S. compares with their country of origin, 85 percent of Hispanics say the opportunity to get ahead is better in the U.S., with similar shares among those who immigrated to the U.S. and those who were born here. Similarly, about three in four (74 percent) Hispanics say the conditions for raising children are better in the U.S. than they are in their country of origin. In both instances, opinions are unchanged since 2011 when the question was last asked."

As a country, we are young -- a scant 242 years old -- and our history of accepting new people to the point that they become one of "us" is short. Put into perspective, the Civil Rights Act of 1964 ending segregation and employment discrimination is only 55 years old.

We've got a long way to go, but we will get there, eventually.

I recently met up with a friend, a Polish immigrant, to talk about projects for the new year. He was sunny, telling me, "Esther, in this country everything is possible."

That's certainly the stance of the parents of the students I work with daily.

Families from Africa, Latin America, Eastern Europe and so many other places are all here despite the pressures, the impediments and the bare-faced bigotry they're sometimes confronted with -- sure to the marrow of their bones that this country is the best place for their children and grandchildren.

We'll find a way to rise to meet our challenges in 2019. We can't let our newest neighbors -- or ourselves -- down.

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

(c) 2019, Washington Post Writers Group

 

 

Open your heart to the strangers among us

BY ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO -- It's shocking that in an increasingly secular country, those who complain that Christmas is too commercialized and not Christian enough are almost always the same people who seem to lack a shred of humanity for people who are suffering.

Fox News' Tucker Carlson recently bemoaned "progressive attacks on Christmas," fretting that someday the only politically correct label for a snowman will be "snow person."

Clearly, Carlson believes that the snow people of the world are more deserving of his sympathy than the migrants who are sheltering at the U.S.-Mexico border.

Last week, just days after the Department of Homeland Security released a statement affirming that a 7-year-old Guatemalan girl named Jakelin Caal Maquin died in custody of Border Patrol agents -- her father alleges that they were both denied water while in custody at a remote area at the New Mexico border -- Carlson defended comments he made about immigrants making "our own country poorer, and dirtier, and more divided."

I'm not picking on Carlson (I don't actually need to, many of his top sponsors are pulling their ads from his show), he's merely emblematic of the heartless way many people who call themselves Christians talk about immigrants.

There's no end to the reader mail I receive that uses sickening, derogatory terms to describe unlawfully present immigrants, blames them for their own rapes or deaths at the hands of coyotes or overzealous border patrol agents, and then claims they hope God blesses me.

Though there are many unambiguous verses in the Bible about protecting the helpless, and welcoming the stranger and the poor in dirty clothes, those sentiments seem to take a back seat to complaining about having to say "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry Christmas."

A late October study by the Public Religion Research Institute, a nonprofit, nonpartisan research organization, found that while 60 percent of all Americans surveyed said they opposed passing a law to prevent refugees from entering the U.S., 51 percent of white evangelical protestants, 47 percent of mainline protestants and 43 percent of white Catholics favor such a law.

Take from that what you will.

But level-headed people will agree that a person can be concerned with or even opposed to unchecked migration without being a heartless monster. And cruelty is the real issue here.

In the days after Jakelin's death, the Trump administration blamed her father for putting the young girl through such a strenuous and difficult journey, opening the floodgates to an avalanche of dehumanizing victim-blaming on newspaper comment boards, on social media and in coffee shops, hair salons and bars across the country.

Again, cool heads can come together and discuss the perverse incentives that might cause desperate parents to expose their child to potential harm on a long, perilous journey to plea for asylum in the U.S. But do so-called Jesus-loving, God-fearing Christians have to be so darned gleeful when they crow that the kid and her dad had it coming, and that it should be a lesson to others?

Countless cards will be exchanged this holiday season with the cliche "Peace on Earth and goodwill to all men," but the phrasing deserves a closer look.

Regardless of whether your politics lean left or right, there has to be hope that we can disagree on policy issues while still respecting humanity.

Never mind merely not using the death of an innocent child to score political points -- be that with your preferred party or against your political enemy -- can everyone, at least for a few days at Christmastime, dabble in humility?

Is it possible to find some compassion -- not ideological agreement with, but just some modicum of understanding -- for those who have so little back home that they're willing to trek thousands of miles through unimaginable peril for any opportunity to feed their families?

Don't do it for your visiting relatives, or for the sake of avoiding political arguments with loved ones. This Christmas, indulge your natural benevolence as a gift to yourself.

Gaze upon the manger scene that portrays Joseph and Mary's journey to Bethlehem, looking for a safe place to give birth to the baby Jesus and open your heart to the stranger just a little.

Giving migrants like Jakelin and her father the benefit of the doubt will help restore a small piece of your human, and spiritual, mercifulness.

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

(c) 2018, Washington Post Writers Group

 

 

My Favorite Books of 2018

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO -- Every holiday season, I make a point of highlighting books that are diverse, but not specifically about diversity.

These books transcend our differences to spotlight issues that affect us all, regardless of our race, ethnicity or gender.

Sometimes people think this category disses books that delve into the important ways that people of color come to terms with who they are when straddling the intersecting worlds of their dual cultures.

Not at all.

The world needs more stories about people of color reckoning with how their outsider status amplifies the identity struggles we all have. Two books stand out in this genre: "Crux: A Cross-Border Memoir" by Jean Guerrero, which investigates her father's descent into severe mental illness and her attempt to make sense of it by interviewing family members in Mexico; and "The Line Becomes a River" a memoir by Francisco Cantu that chronicles his teeth-grindingly awful four years as a U.S. Border Patrol agent.

Still, I'll paraphrase the thoughts of countless writers, artists, journalists and filmmakers who bemoan the singular expectations audiences carry around with them because of their gender, race or nationality: We contain multitudes and hold interests outside our demographic characteristics.

Here are a few exceptional books that are worth your time because they add to our understanding of ourselves as humans and citizens, not census data.

First up, is "Flashes & Verses: Becoming Attractions," by Adrian Ernesto Cepeda, a book of poetry that speaks to people who adore pop culture. Cepeda (no relation to me) paints word pictures about everything from Charlie Chaplin's 1931 masterpiece "City Lights" to candy bars, comic book heroes, the heartbreak of severing romantic relationships and the emotional toll of gun violence. If you're someone who usually doesn't care for poetry, I'd say this is the poetry book for you.

Next, a book offering a painful look at how dependent we are on other countries for our sustenance. "Eating NAFTA: Trade, Food Policies, and the Destruction of Mexico," by Alyshia Galvez is a story about how the industrialized food movement has simultaneously wiped out the healthful, locally grown slow-food culture of Mexican farmers while making Americans less knowledgeable about how food gets on their table.

Galvez says that although there would likely be a fiery revolt if the flow of avocados from the south dried up, the more urgent worry is about how secretly negotiated trade deals threaten America's democracy.

Speaking of food, Luis Alberto Urrea's novel "The House of Broken Angels" made it onto several lists of important "Latino" books of 2018. But in my reading, it's really about how "American" families are, even when holding on tight to their ancestors' roots.

In this passage, the protagonist, Little Angel, returns home for a birthday party for his half-brother, Big Angel, only to be disappointed by the menu.

"Little Angel was thwarted in his hopeless search for homemade Mexican food. In his mind, chicken mole and pots of simmering frijoles and chiles rellenos were to be displayed in pornographic lushness. But the reality of the day was folding tables groaning with pizzas, Chinese food, hot dogs, potato salad and a huge industrial party pan of spaghetti. Somebody was allegedly on the way with a hundred pieces of KFC. He noted Uncle Jimbo at his table with a paper plate heaped with noodles and buffalo wings."

Little Angel takes his complaint to his mom, who declared that these days she was a "refugee from the apron."

Lastly, I offer a left-field pick: "Into the Raging Sea: Thirty-Three Mariners, One Megastorm, and the Sinking of El Faro," by journalist Rachel Slade. This tense, jaw-dropping story recounts the October 2015 sinking of container ship El Faro, the deadliest American shipping disaster in thirty-five years.

After a cultural and political "Year of the Woman," women's voices have been elevated like never before, speaking out about gender disparity, inequality, victimhood and the taking back of power.

It's a move in the right direction, but let's never forget that women are professionally amazing in their own right. Slade went where few women have trod -- crossing the Atlantic Ocean on a dangerous cargo ship -- and, added to black box transcripts, came back with a thrilling account of a tragedy at sea.

Slade's storytelling will grab hold of you and drag you to the darkness of the ocean floor. Like the rest of these selections, you'll be captivated, completely forgetting the gender, race or ethnicity of the storyteller.

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

(c) 2018, Washington Post Writers Group

Giving Latino nonprofits a hand up, not a hand out

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO -- Masha Chernyak had an epiphany in the back of an Uber, while listening to her fellow passenger, an aspiring tech entrepreneur, gush about his big, game-changing idea.

"These guys will give me the elevator pitch for their cat-food delivery app, look me right in the eyes and say they're going to change the world," said Chernyak, vice president of programs and policy at the San Francisco-based Latino Community Foundation (LCF). "The many organizations we work with really, truly are changing the world -- they just don't know how to tell that story. Or they're spending all of their time and effort on their mission and don't have the capacity or resources to get the help they need to tell that story."

Chernyak told me this on the eve of the pitch night of what she called the first-ever Latino Nonprofit Accelerator. It's modeled after the technology sector's strategy of "incubating" small businesses by providing them support to refine their pitch to mentors and investors at what's known as a Demo Day.

With help from Google.org, the San Francisco Foundation and Akonadi Foundation, the LCF has spent the last 16 months funding a small group of organizations, mentoring them on how to grow their outreach and training them on marketing, fundraising and communications skills.

"I talk to potential funders all the time and rave about the amazing work these organizations are doing, whether it's organizing their communities around immigrant rights or increasing civic and political power," Chernyak said. "But then they go to the organization's website, and when it's really unimpressive, they tell me: 'I'm just not seeing it.' It became obvious that what these organizations needed was to invest in storytelling, in simple language and in beautiful visuals."

The problem is that, in the world of philanthropy, few funders want to give organizations money to rent space, keep the lights on or hire accountants. Giving money for marketing, photographers, videographers, web developers and designers is even less appealing.

The people who hold grantees accountable usually want to make sure every cent goes directly toward fulfilling a stated mission -- like teaching young Latinos how to increase their economic power or become future leaders -- but this leaves the critical areas of marketing and communications underfunded, even though they can be a key to success.

In a quest to fill this void, the LCF decided to invest in nonprofits the Silicon Valley way.

During the LCF's Demo day, organizations that had spent 16 months "incubating" with LCF -- learning how to tell the story of how they're impacting education, workforce development or civic engagement -- had three minutes to pitch a panel of potential business mentors and investors. The organizations talked about their readiness to grow, their track record of success and their connection to the communities they serve.

By the time the demo was over, the LCF had granted the first prize of $25,000 to an organization called One Day at a Time, which teaches teens leadership and coping skills. The money will go toward continuing the group's outreach and conflict-resolution services for teens. And, of course, the demo provided the winner and eight other similarly inspiring organizations the opportunity to shine in front of some of Silicon Valley's most deep-pocketed and influential business leaders.

"Yes, we gave away a total of $65,000, and that's important," said Chernyak, "but realistically, the money is very limited to creating postcards, one-pagers, annual reports and printing and mailing them, which is in itself huge. The big thing, though, is giving these organizations the opportunity to gain confidence, to be able to speak clearly and passionately about what they do and to inspire funders to invest in projects that are for the community by the community."

The criticism that many grass-roots activists level at large philanthropic entities is that they would rather fund big, established nonprofits to go into neighborhoods to "save" the poor brown people than invest money in community-based groups that are already doing the work on the ground but have few resources to scale up. In fact, only 1.1 percent of philanthropic dollars are now invested in Latino-led nonprofits, according to the LCF.

But if more charities take the LCF's lead by teaching community organizations to market themselves to potential funders the way that sophisticated nonprofits do, the disparity in the number of dollars going to minority-led nonprofits might finally improve.

This could result in community leaders of color giving more of their beneficiaries the much-mythologized "hand up" rather than the less lasting "handout."

And in today's bootstrapping economy, it can't come a moment too soon.

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

(c) 2018, Washington Post Writers Group

 

More Trump Hypocrisy, this time about illegal labor at his properties

BY ESTHER J. CEPEDA

Since President Trump is so fond of giving his political nemeses pet names, allow me to give him one, too: Teflon Don. Nothing sticks to this guy.

He said it himself back in 2016: "I could stand in the middle of 5th Avenue and shoot somebody and I wouldn't lose any voters."

And if he were to say today, "I could employ illegal immigrants even though I say I'm tough on immigration," his most ardent supporters wouldn't blink twice.

Hiring undocumented immigrants, of course, has been an unforgivable political sin -- it derailed the nominations of two candidates for attorney general in 1993 (Zoe Baird and Kimba Wood), two nominations for labor secretary (Linda Chavez in 2001 and Andrew Puzder in 2017), and a pick for homeland security secretary in 2004 (Bernard Kerik). Today, employing people who are residing in the country illegally would surely torpedo the careers of most incumbents or candidates for office.

But few Trump supporters were rushing to point out the president's hypocrisy when The New York Times reported last week that unlawfully present immigrants were working on phony employment documents at the Trump National Golf Club in Bedminster, New Jersey.

Make no mistake about it, if President Obama had done the same thing during his tenure, he would have been run out of the White House on a rail by an angry mob.

Yet when Trump does anything that directly undermines his campaign promises, his base always seems to find a way to turn it around.

"No good deed goes unpunished, even when the beneficiary is in the country illegally," wrote Eddie Scarry, a conservative opinion writer for The Washington Examiner, in reference to reports that the housekeepers who came forward about working with fake documents said Trump had tipped them generously.

Scarry didn't grapple with the threatening and demeaning comments that Victorina Morales said she faced from her immediate supervisors because they knew she was working illegally.

In Scarry's assessment, the salient fact was that a prominent publication had the gall to elevate the undocumented women's stories, not the fact that Trump's golf club is allegedly hiring unlawfully present immigrants for jobs that should, in Trump's stated vision of the U.S. workforce, go to lawful permanent residents and native-born workers.

No mention at all of the Times' most damning revelation -- that though president Trump has, in the past, bragged about using E-Verify (the electronic system that checks potential employees' identity against the databases of the Social Security Administration and Department of Homeland Security's databases to weed out unauthorized workers at his work sites and properties), his staff knowingly hired undocumented workers.

According to the Times, an online list of employers who are registered to use the E-Verify system includes Mr. Trump's golf club in North Carolina -- a state where E-Verify is required -- but the Bedminster club in New Jersey, which is not required to do the federal check, doesn't appear.

According to Morales and another worker, Sandra Diaz, supervisors wielded their power by simultaneously helping employees obtain fake work documentation from other employees (sometimes even helping to pay for the false documents) so they could stay on the job, and by calling them "donkeys," and "stupid illegal immigrants" with less intelligence than a dog. There were also alleged threats of deportation and, sometimes, physical force.

Morales took major risks to come forward but did so to stick up for others suffering in silence.

"We are tired of the abuse, the insults, the way (Trump) talks about us when he knows that we are here helping him make money," Morales told the Times. "We sweat it out to attend to his every need and have to put up with his humiliation."

That humiliation started back when Trump launched his presidential campaign in 2015 by referring to immigrants south of the border as criminals and rapists.

Well, you have to hand it to him -- when Trump made those comments, he also said of the immigrants that, "some, I assume, are good people."

That's surely how he thought of Morales, who was given both a certificate of outstanding service from the club and a special pin in the shape of an American flag bearing a Secret Service logo.

If this latest uncovering of the opportunistic, two-faced nature of our president teaches us anything, it's that he's right -- in his most passionate supporters' eyes, he can do no wrong. And no amount of evidence to the contrary will ever sway them to view him as the hypocrite everyone else sees.

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

 

 

 

Hispanic families still face higher hurdles at school

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO -- It's tough being a teacher -- the unrealistic expectations, the high stakes, the low pay and the lack of respect for the profession. But, trust me, it's even harder being a teacher of color in a profession that is 80 percent non-Hispanic white nationally, and over 90 percent in most school districts outside of major urban centers.

It's not as though white teachers aren't professional, nice or supportive. It's more that, outside of the classroom, they often forget that not everyone in the room is white, and they let fly how they really feel about their students of color.

Over the years, I've heard some teachers talk serious trash about their students -- including cracks about who would land in jail or end up a lawn maintenance laborer. But even teachers who wouldn't dare let something so crass about a student leave their lips falter when it comes to complaining about parents.

Now, I'll be the first person to point out that teachers deal with flighty, rude, demanding and overly involved parents, as well as uncooperative and totally absent mothers and fathers.

But even though parents of all races and ethnicities fall short of the optimal amount of engagement with the school community, it always seems like teachers get extra irked when Hispanic students' parents fall short.

Unfortunately, what often looks like parental disengagement is actually family hardship.

"Most working low-income [Hispanic] parents have jobs with characteristics that can present challenges to raising children, such as low monthly earnings, nonstandard work schedules (i.e., work schedules outside of daytime hours during Monday through Friday), and limited access to employer-sponsored health insurance," according to a new report from the National Research Center on Hispanic Children and Families. "This is true across race, Hispanic ethnicity, and nativity status."

The authors, Elizabeth Wildsmith, María A. Ramos-Olazagasti and Marta Alvira-Hammond, go on to say that "job characteristics, such as number of hours worked, work schedules, commute time, and paid time off, can shape the amount of time and energy parents are able to invest in their children. For example, parents who work long or nonstandard schedules may spend less time with their children and have difficulties establishing and maintaining family routines."

(And the commute time mentioned above doesn't even take into account the phenomenon of immigrant and Latino families fleeing urban crime and poor schools for suburbs where there are often few public transportation options to get to and from work. But anyone who spends much time in outer-ring suburbs of major metropolitan areas can attest that despite rain, snow or sub-zero temperatures, Hispanic men and women can be seen riding bikes to work on major county roads that were not meant for bicycle traffic.)

The authors continue, "Research finds that nonstandard work schedules may reduce time spent with children and closeness between parent and child. Low wages, unstable jobs and variable or nonstandard work schedules can increase stress and take a toll on parental psychological well-being, increasing family conflict and harsh parenting."

I once had a heart-wrenching conversation with a Latina mom who worked as the night custodian at one of the schools where I taught. Her daughter was struggling in fourth grade, complaining of stomachaches and exhibiting signs of anxiety. Mom was deeply sad and worried that she wasn't available at night to go over homework or read bedtime stories because she was out working to ensure everyone at home was fed.

She wasn't alone. Among low-income Hispanic parents, nearly one-third of foreign-born fathers and one-quarter of U.S.-born fathers had three or more job stressors like irregular work hours, a long or difficult commute or multiple jobs. Roughly one-quarter of low-income Hispanic mothers (U.S.- and foreign-born) had three or more stressors. And yes, as the number of work stressors increases, so does the likelihood of adverse outcomes for the kids.

Policy fixes include incentives for more employers to provide full-time jobs and more flexible and reliable work hours. And for communities to offer more access to affordable, high-quality child care, with more weekend and evening coverage. Also, expanded access to non-employer health insurance or health care services and a transportation infrastructure that makes it possible for families to get to jobs, to midday or evening parent-teacher conferences, and to health services when needed.

Empathy, too, will help.

Many times teachers get very frustrated when our young students come to school lacking focus for their learning. But, too often, people jump to conclusions without taking the difficult work lives of low-income parents and families into account.

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

(c) 2018, Washington Post Writers Group

Doomed to repeat what?

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO -- It hardly seems possible, but it's happening: Students have gotten so fed up that they've resorted to legal action to get the education they need to become productive citizens.

As The Associated Press reported last week, a group of public school students and their parents filed a class-action lawsuit against Rhode Island's governor and the state's education officials, claiming that the state fails to prepare young people to fully participate in civic life.

The students are asking the federal courts to confirm the constitutional rights of all public-school students to a civics education that adequately prepares them to vote, exercise free speech, petition the government, serve on a jury, write a letter to a newspaper's editor, participate in a mock trial or otherwise actively engage in their communities.

Musah Mohammed Sesay, a high school senior and co-plaintiff in the suit, told the AP that he hasn't been exposed to the basics of how local government works or how decision-makers are held accountable by the citizens they govern.

It's a sad scene. Rhode Island doesn't have a civics-education requirement, doesn't require teachers to be trained in civics, and doesn't test students on their knowledge of civics and American history, according to Michael Rebell, a lead counsel in the case and a professor of law and educational practice at Teachers College, Columbia University in New York, who was interviewed by the Providence Journal.

Rebell said that the skill set is so low on the state's educational radar that the position of social-science coordinator within the Rhode Island Department of Education has been vacant for six months.

The department counters that it requires three years of history/social studies to graduate from high school, and that it has grade-level standards that specifically talk about civics. But having standards on the books is one thing. Ensuring that educators are knowledgeable enough to teach the subject and then having an assessment in place to gauge how well the students learned it is quite another.

The Rhode Island suit, which could go as far as the Supreme Court, is not the only instance of students demanding that their education meet the most basic standards of usefulness in the real world.

In November, students in Lowell, Massachusetts, notched a victory. After a nine-year advocacy campaign, they succeeded in pushing for a law requiring the state to strengthen civics-education requirements. The law mandates that American history, social sciences and civics be taught in public schools. It also requires the schools to implement student-led civics projects for children in eighth grade and high school that encourage students to work with public officials and learn how their government works.

Meanwhile, a nonprofit organization called the Civics Education Initiative is pushing for states to require high school students to pass a test of 100 basic facts about U.S. history and civics before they can graduate. The questions are pulled from the same test that all immigrants are required to take to gain citizenship.

So far, the organization has gotten 28 states to pass such a requirement -- or something similar -- and Texas is considering the move as well.

These changes to education policy can't come soon enough. The Nation's Report Card civics scores in 2014 among eighth-graders showed no improvement from their dismal level in 2010. Less than one-quarter of students scored at the level of "proficient" or better, and only about half said they found their civics coursework interesting "often" or "always."

Earlier this year, the Woodrow Wilson National Fellowship Foundation surveyed 1,000 randomly selected American adults with a multiple-choice quiz about civics. The results were appalling:

-- Only 13 percent knew when the U.S. Constitution was ratified, with most incorrectly thinking it occurred in 1776.

-- 60 percent didn't know which countries the United States fought in World War II.

-- 57 percent did not know how many justices serve on the Supreme Court.

These conditions -- the marginalization of a civics education and children having to sue to get one -- create a perfect storm.

They provide the right mix of ignorance, apathy and gullibility that can lead to the dismantling of our public institutions, our government and our democracy.

How are young people supposed to know that those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it if they never learn the adage to begin with?

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

(c) 2018, Washington Post Writers Group

 

Critical thinking: In short supply and looking to get even scarcer

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO -- If it seems like "fake news" is evolving into an epidemic, it's due to the calamitous lack of a crucial skill: critical thinking.

What's worse is that critical thinking is one of those abilities that most people mistakenly believe they're good at -- leading them to fall for and spread fake news even more.

Sixty-seven percent of U.S. adults say they've improved their ability to reflect and use evidence, logic and analysis to make decisions since graduating from high school, according to a new survey by the Reboot Foundation, a Paris-based nonprofit that is pushing the teaching of evidence-based reasoning skills.

Yet almost 50 percent of respondents said they don't typically plan where they'll get their information before engaging in research -- the very practice that suggests they are weak critical thinkers. About one-third of respondents said they will usually use only one source of information when making a decision.

Part of the reason is that while most people think that critical thinking skills are a necessary tool to navigate today's fast-moving, complex world, the very topic can be a dense, impenetrable snooze.

"As I started to do this research, I bought 40 to 60 books, including 'Critical Thinking Skills for Dummies' and, trust me, if you open these books you'll find yourself falling asleep after not too many pages," said Helen Lee Bouygues, the foundation's co-founder and president.

Bouygues took on the Sisyphean mission of bringing critical thinking to the masses after observing her own 7-year-old daughter completing a homework assignment. Though her daughter was sitting inches away from a book that she'd already read about King Francis I of France, she turned to a web search to complete her homework task of finding some basic facts -- Wikipedia was simply easier.

"I realized that my daughter is fundamentally growing up differently than I did," Bouygues told me. "Not only do we need to impart these critical thinking skills to children at an earlier age because of the easy access to information and misinformation they have at their fingertips, but research on neurological brain development is very clear that children are actually capable of learning these skills at a young age. This should give us some urgency about trying to figure out how to get parents and teachers to teach critical thinking in concrete ways that won't put kids to sleep."

Sure, it would be nice if more people had the ability to quickly and easily synthesize different ideas, seek out opposing viewpoints and engage in fact-based debates. But it's also imperative to our democracy and our intertwined fortunes. In a future that will require better skills at teasing out fact from fiction, the gulf between the haves and the have-nots threatens to grow exponentially.

"Our goal is to do this survey every year -- so this one serves as our baseline -- but already we have found that people with incomes over $100,000 per year are about twice as likely as those making under $50,000 per year to believe that it's important to teach critical thinking skills to children," Bouygues said. She also noted that people with higher incomes were likelier to say that it is important to debate with people who hold opposing views and people with lower incomes were likelier to avoid people with whom they disagree.

It will be an uphill battle to give the topic of critical thinking mass appeal, but the Reboot Foundation hopes that it will be able to eventually disseminate simple tips for integrating some of the skills into everyday school and home life.

"We know that parents and teachers are very busy, and we're all just trying to get through the day," Bouygues acknowledged. "But it doesn't take a whole lot of effort to make little adjustments. Have conversations about what kinds of sources of information are reliable. Ask your kids to explain to you how they made a decision that day. Practice having discussions in positive, rational ways."

This is the same advice I give to parents when they ask how they can improve their students' reading or math skills: Forget about highly structured lessons or purchasing study materials, just focus on having meaningful conversations with your kids that focus on them getting the opportunity to explain their thinking.

(It works wonders on adults, too.)

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

(c) 2018, Washington Post Writers Group

Trump praises pilgrims but demonizes today's migrants

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO -- We're nearing the end of a long, harrowing year in which Latinos have faced daily demonization as a threat to the American people. We've watched horrifying images of women and children from Mexico, Central and South America caged like animals at the border, and we have endured public humiliation and violence from people emboldened by President Trump's rancor toward virtually anyone who isn't white and male.

Last week, the president released a Thanksgiving proclamation valorizing the pilgrims who arrived on Native American land to "establish a home in the New World" after facing "illness, harsh conditions, and uncertainty, as they trusted in God for a brighter future." Just days later, we saw American soldiers shooting rubber bullets at families massed at the border who were seeking to exercise their legal right to plea for asylum.

Only the willfully blind could ignore the parallels between those white, angelic pilgrims of the past and the dusty, dark-skinned migrants now caravanning from Honduras and other Central American countries to the U.S. border, telling reporters along the way that they hoped "God will touch Trump's heart."

And yet here we are, again gaping at photos of what sure looks like international human rights violations: U.S. Border Patrol guards shooting chemical weapons canisters into a crowd on the Mexican side of the shared border at Tijuana, as mothers choking on tear gas cover the faces of their babies and children still in diapers.

So much for "treating all with charity and mutual respect, spreading the spirit of Thanksgiving throughout our country and across the world."

It is painful to see these events unfolding, though there's always the hope that such gruesome visuals will shock people into mustering an ounce of pity for fellow human beings who are in such dire straits that they've put their faith in Trump's capacity for compassion.

Is that hope misplaced, though?

Even the globally viral image of 3-year-old Syrian migrant Alan Kurdi's dead body on a Turkish beach in 2016 did nothing to prevent the deaths of thousands of more Syrian refugees and the further closing of European countries' borders to them. So what hope do Central Americans have?

A sliver, at least.

For one, to the sizable pan-Hispanic population in the United States, the migrants we see on TV and in photos aren't frightening or foreign -- they look, act and sound like our families, friends and neighbors.

Additionally, migrants from south of the border have a long and proven track record of being able to enter the U.S. and not only thrive, but contribute greatly to both the economy and our culture while simultaneously assimilating completely -- seeing themselves as fully "American" -- while exhibiting deep pride in their heritage.

Better than that, however, is knowing that we, as seemingly impotent onlookers, actually do have some power to influence what happens to the modern-day pilgrims at our southern border.

"Think back to the zero-tolerance policy that the president put in to place earlier this year; there was a tipping point over the summer when he realized he clearly overreached," said Ali Noorani, executive director of the National Immigration Forum, a nonpartisan advocacy organization. "That tipping point occurred when local institutions started to press their elected representatives to take action."

Noorani told me that the most effective way to relieve the migration crisis would be for the U.S. to help get the Central American countries on their feet, economically, and for us to recalibrate our relationship with Mexico. But he said that the best thing that individuals can do is speak up.

"Every day Americans have to stand up and say, 'I am a leader in my community and I think this is wrong.' They have to press their institutional leaders -- go to their pastors, police chiefs and school principals and ask them to go to legislators," Noorani said. "Online dissent and sharing of these images is important. But what's going to capture the attention of the administration in a different way is for our local civic institutions to help speak to government leaders for us and say, 'This does not represent us, or who we are.'"

There are many organizations you can donate to that are attempting to aid the migrants who have amassed in Tijuana. But even just reaching out to anyone who has the clout to talk to people in Washington can move things in the right direction. Contact your community leaders and let them know that lobbing tear gas at women and children is unacceptable. It will have more impact than just feeling helpless and sad in front of your TV or social media feed.


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

(c) 2018, Washington Post Writers Group

Nazi sympathizers on the rise because people don't know their history

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO -- The sickening photo of dozens of Wisconsin high school boys apparently giving a Nazi salute sparked so much media outrage last week that even Gov. Scott Walker shook his head and said, "They're just a bunch of idiots."

The well-dressed boys were photographed outside a county courthouse last spring at prom time, and about two-thirds of them had their right arms raised in what looks -- to anyone with eyes in their head -- to be a Sieg Heil salute. One student also appears to be making the upside-down "OK" hand signal that white supremacists use to mean "white power."

To be fair, the parent who took the photo -- who also owns a photography business -- said that he had simply asked the boys to wave "goodbye" for the camera, and that the final result had been misinterpreted. However, several news outlets also reported that some of the boys meant it, possibly as a joke.

Har. Dee. Har. Har.

One student at the school, Jordan Blue, told media outlets that some of his classmates were goofing around. He told CNN that the episode was "a scary moment, and it was very shocking and upsetting."

But what's even more upsetting is that some of Blue's fellow students at Baraboo High School felt otherwise.

Nate Mathis-Vargas, a white father of two girls who attend the high school, spoke to the podcast "It's Been a Minute with Sam Sanders" and said that he was appalled by the picture. He also said that he was concerned for his daughters -- not only because they go to school with people who either hold white-supremacist beliefs or think it's a joking matter, but also because many students didn't even understand the problem.

He discussed the incident with his daughters and found that "they weren't aware of a lot about the Nazi army itself, so they didn't understand what that meant, which was more shocking to me than the picture itself," Mathis-Vargas said. "It's like: How did they not teach that? How do they not know that?"

Sadly, those kids are not alone in their ignorance.

A study released last summer by the Conference on Jewish Material Claims Against Germany, which pursues restitution for victims of Nazi persecution and their heirs, delivered the alarming news that 11 percent of all Americans and 22 percent of millennials hadn't heard of the Holocaust or weren't sure what it was.

The study also found that 31 percent of all Americans and 41 percent of millennials believe that 2 million or fewer Jews were killed in the Holocaust. (The number is actually around 6 million.)

Forty-one percent of all Americans and 66 percent of millennials cannot say what Auschwitz was (it was a Nazi concentration and extermination camp), and 52 percent of Americans wrongly think Hitler came to power through force.

As amazing as it may sound, only 10 states -- New York, New Jersey, California, Florida, Rhode Island, Illinois, Indiana, Michigan, Connecticut and Kentucky -- have legislative requirements about the teaching of genocide and the Holocaust in their public schools, according to the New York-based Anne Frank Center for Mutual Respect.

It's not perfect -- not all of those states have a commission or task force to keep genocide education comprehensive, rigorous or up to date. Still, it's something, and another 18 states have told the center they are committed to passing or strengthening their legislation.

In the absence of such education, Mathis-Vargas' daughters were angry about the backlash over the photo, because they didn't understand what was wrong with what the boys had done. All they saw, according to Mathis-Vargas, was their school being attacked and their friends demonized and even threatened. "It opened my eyes about what I need to do as a parent on talking to my kids about these things," the father said. He added that he hoped the school would start offering more instruction to prevent these kinds of misunderstandings in the future.

Hopefully, the "future" won't be too late. Already, hate crimes in America have spiked by 17 percent over 2017, with a corresponding 37 percent increase in anti-Semitic attacks, according to FBI statistics.

Ignorance fans hatred. On Election Day, a Holocaust denier and white supremacist won 56,000 votes in the western suburbs of Chicago. Thankfully, he lost. But his candidacy is proof that America needs some serious schooling before it relives history's worst mistakes.

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

(c) 2018, Washington Post Writers Group

 

 

Food banks need your cash and here's why

By ESTHER J. CEPEDA

CHICAGO -- Charities often ask for donations around the holidays because that's when people are likeliest to be feeling generous, but hunger runs rampant every month of the year, and it actually peaks for children in the summer when school is out.

Food banks in particular tend to time their drives around Thanksgiving, because so many people are out stocking up for the big dinner that it doesn't seem like too much of a sacrifice for shoppers to throw an extra package of stovetop stuffing, a can of concentrated soup or a box of cake mix into the food bin at the door of their local supermarket.

This is a good deed, and no one should be dissuaded from attempting to make a local family's holiday dinner a little fuller or sweeter.

In fact, I'm usually the one doing the nudging, asking readers to be generous because a whopping 40 million Americans, including more than 12 million children, experience food insecurity or day-to-day hunger.

But in the 13 years I've been urging generosity at turkey time, the scope of the problem -- and of the solutions -- has expanded in many directions.

The percentage of the U.S. population experiencing low or very low food security has gone up over the past decade due to the failure to recover from the Great Recession, the decrease in the number of high-paying middle-skill jobs and the rise of low-paying service-sector occupations.

And the world is burning up.

That's not hyperbole. If you think it is, try telling that to the people who are fighting to survive the California wildfires, which, as of this writing, had claimed 59 lives, left hundreds missing and rendered untold numbers displaced.

Which is where the food banks come in.

Feeding America, the nation's largest hunger-relief organization, works year-round to position emergency food supplies throughout the country. So when earthquakes, hurricanes or wildfires hit, member food banks are ready to deploy food, water, equipment and supplies with a network of 2,400 trucks. Then the organization stays in communities to help them with long-term disaster recovery efforts.

Right now, the organization is coordinating in California with the Food Bank of Contra Costa and Solano, as well as with FOOD Share, Inc. and the Los Angeles Regional Food Bank, among many others.

Sue Sigler, executive director of the California Association of Food Banks in Oakland, told me they're supplying food to shelters and evacuation centers, and coordinating with local governments and first responders to ensure the right type and quantity of food gets to those who need it.

"Unfortunately, because we saw this type of devastation during the Tubbs Fire almost exactly a year ago, we know that there is a long-term recovery that needs to be supported with food," Sigler said. "Folks who have lost homes and employment will take many years to become self-sufficient again, so there is both an immediate and long-term need for food assistance."

Most people experiencing food insufficiency are well past the point of just needing a can of crispy fried onions to sprinkle on top of a green-bean casserole.

The reality is that the enormity of the need requires sophisticated logistics to transport fresh milk, meats, fruits, vegetables and other foods and staples long distances from corporate donors and bulk sellers in far-flung warehouses to the people who need them.

This is why, generous readers, if you really want to make an impact on the lives of people who dearly need nourishment, please open your wallet.

"With respect to how people can help, cash donations are the most preferable," Sigler said. "Food banks obtain food at far below retail cost, and have many other costs as well, such as extra staffing, transportation costs, and much more."

Please find a way to donate the cost of a box of cereal or a value pack of mac n' cheese to your local food pantry (locate it here: https://www.feedingamerica.org/find-your-local-foodbank]).

Or find a little extra in the month's budget to donate to the tens of thousands of people who won't have a home for Thanksgiving because of the California fires or other disasters.

Giving your extra dollars via website or text or app may not feel as good as plunking packaged food into a bin at the grocery store, but it will go further, and help more people than you can imagine.

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

(c) 2018, Washington Post Writers Group