Within Eyeshot

At the Newseum last weekend I especially enjoyed watching videos of Pulitzer Prize-winning photographers describe the sequence of events that led to the shooting of their photos.  The first one we selected was the Kent State picture where Mary Vecchio, the young teenager, cries over the body of the gunned-down student Jeffrey Miller in 1970 (click here).  John Filo, the photographer, explains how he thought at first that he had the perfect picture when he captured a student waving a black flag in front of the National Guard.  It was only moments later when he understood that real bullets were being fired and turned unexpectedly to capture the iconic photograph of the student protest movement.

We also watched Sal Veder describe his photograph of returning American POW Robert Stirm whose family, in 1973, rushed to greet him on the tarmac at Travis Air Force Base (click here).  Veder, too, came upon the picture without much thought.  Initially he was taking pictures of the crowd when he saw "a little movement out of the corner of [his] eye," and turned quickly to photograph Stirm's family--an image of joy frozen in time.

Even Joe Rosenthal, who shot the raising of the flag at Iwo Jima, was going for a more posed picture that day in 1945 (click here).  When he came upon a group of Marines planning to replace a small American flag with a larger one that could be seen all over the island, he began calculating his angle and position to get the picture.  He spoke briefly to another photographer when, all of the sudden, the Marines began hoisting the pole.  He clicked and captured what may be the most famous picture of all.

These photographers all thought they were doing one thing when, in fact, they ended up doing something else--something far more significant than they understood at the time.  I wonder if life works like this more often than we realize.  When we spend so much energy focused on our children, or a job, or an illness, or despair, is it possible that something else--something hidden and not fully understood--is happening at the same time?

Maybe we don't need to be as scripted as we think.  We need to show up, of course, and to pay attention, but maybe the high points of our lives aren't the ones we plan.  Maybe they're the ones that form in the corners of our eyes. 

Click.  That photo you took on the fly may turn out better than you expect.

Patriotism Lite

On Saturday at the International Spy Museum in Washington, DC, we watched short, motivational film clips from the 1940s.  One encouraged Americans to mail their income tax payments early to support the war effort.  Imagine that!  The idea that paying taxes might be patriotic, something we do for the larger good of our country.

What an old-fashioned idea.  I guess we've moved on since World War II.  Patriotism now means wearing a flag pin and cutting taxes.

What kind of motivational film clips could we possibly produce today?

Memorial Day

It's Memorial Day and I'm not sure what to write.  I've had an uneasy sense of this holiday for much of my life, seeing myself as a pacifist.  The two most recent American wars, those in Iraq and Afghanistan, have seemed so misguided to me.  And re-reading Margaret Mitchell's masterpiece Gone with the Wind has reminded me of the devastation that the Civil War wrought throughout the South, devastation that still reverberates today.

Yet I realize that those who fight in our wars, whether they're relatives or friends or strangers, fight on my behalf whether or not I agree with the cause.  They've given of themselves in ways that I would not.  On this holiday, then, I'm reminded every year to offer up thanks and remembrance for those who have served.

"The Scream"

That "The Scream" sold for nearly $120 million last night at Sotheby's seems fitting.  It is the symbol of our time, after all, and only increases in relevance as life grows more bizarre.  All you need to do is read the front page of any American newspaper or listen to the evening news, and you'll feel exactly like the figure in Edvard Munch's pastel.

The Language of War

How we love to wage war in America. In addition to our war on terrorism, we've initiated wars on cancer, drugs, and poverty. Another war, the one that rages every 4 years, has already begun: our presidential campaign. Consider the language: Which candidate has the bigger war chest? How will the battleground states vote? Who has more field offices established? Have the campaigns enlisted their armies of volunteers?

In one sense the outcome of this war will be clear: either Barack Obama or Mitt Romney will win. But in another sense, the outcome will be fuzzy. For in modern America the winners of wars are those with the most money. Defense contractors, for example, reap victory in Afghanistan and Iraq; drug companies, hospitals, and high-tech medical manufacturers triumph in the war on cancer; drug cartels and weapons manufacturers continue to win the war on drugs; and all of us but the poor sweep the war on poverty.

The winners in 2012? The big donors, the super PACS, the people we don't know and don't elect who dictate how the rest of us live. For in this war corporate America--especially energy, finance, and health care interests--brings out its big guns and mows everybody else down.

I guess we'll just have to wait and see who's left standing when the air clears.

You May Say I'm a Dreamer

The killing of 16 Afghan civilians, mostly women and children, by an American staff sergeant last week brought us to a new low in the war in Afghanistan. But we've been here before, many times. The My Lai massacre in Vietnam comes immediately to mind; having occurred almost exactly 44 years ago, it was more horrific in scale but otherwise a similar crime.

When we put people in brutal situations, we must expect brutal behavior. So why are we shocked when these events happen? Commentators are now analyzing Sgt. Bales' life and his 4 deployments over the last 10 years. Was his marriage stressful? Did the fact that he'd seen a buddy lose his leg the day before affect his state of mind? Did he have Post-traumatic stress disorder?

Tell me, who doesn't have PTSD who's been sent off for the sole purpose of killing fellow humans?

It's not right. War is not right. Call me naive, but it's time to stop the killing. Every time we send a young man or woman to Iraq or Afghanistan, we set in motion a cascade of destruction. Atrocities committed, lives lost, families separated, dreams ruined--all for what?

John Lennon had it right:

"Imagine all the people
Living life in peace. . .
You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one."

Experts Part 1

One day last week on "All Things Considered," the host invited listeners to call in with our opinions about a containment policy towards Iran. Since I didn't really know what containment meant, I wasn't about to pick up the phone and express my thoughts. Fortunately, not too many other people did either.

Every day in America talk radio is filled with opinions from ordinary people like me. I wonder about the merits of giving all of us a voice. When we're all experts on everything, are we less likely to hear the opinions of those who might actually know something that we don't?

Such thinking--that all opinions are equal--serves only to reinforce the strain of anti-intellectualism that runs through our culture. The suspicion of those who are educated has always run deep, but Paul Krugman writes in a recent New York Times column that the Republican presidential candidates have sharpened the attack in new ways. The resulting disrespect for knowledge gives all of us permission to ignore expertise.

Therefore, we can ignore the wisdom of scientists who explain climate change; we can ignore the wisdom of economists who explain deficit spending; and we can ignore the wisdom of historians who explain Afghanistan.

I like to give my opinions, too. But when I don't know what I'm talking about, I hope I defer to those who do.

Quotes of the Week

Here's what a few people said this week. We need voices like these when hypocrisy and deception are so widespread:

Reporter Marie Colvin, speaking before she died yesterday about Syrian armed forces: “It’s a complete and utter lie they’re only going after terrorists. The Syrian Army is simply shelling a city of cold, starving civilians.”

Virologist Renato Dulbecco, who died Sunday and whose Nobel Prize-winning research showed that genetic mutations cause cancer: “While we spend our life asking questions about the nature of cancer and ways to prevent or cure it, society merrily produces oncogenic substances and permeates the environment with them.”

New York Times columnist Gail Collins, yesterday, in discussion with David Brooks about the abortion legislation proposed in Virginia: "I’m being driven crazy by people who are obsessed with limiting the scope of government, but feel perfectly free to demand that government get involved in women’s most personal choices."

Former Labor Secretary Robert Reich commenting on the huge sums of money that superdonors are contributing to conservative PACs: "Whoever emerges as the GOP standard-bearer will be deeply indebted to a handful of people, each of whom will expect a good return on their investment. . . Never before in the history of our Republic have so few spent so much to influence the votes of so many."

Food writer Mark Bittman commenting on Procter & Gamble's sale of Pringles to Kelloggs: "[If we didn't process so much real food,]Kellogg’s and P.&G.’s bottom lines might not look so good. We ourselves, however, might look better, as would our health care bills, which in general rise along with Big Food’s influence and profits."

Afghani Rhetoric

Listening to the president last night as he announced troop withdrawals from Afghanistan, I was struck by how un-soaring his usual soaring rhetoric was. True, I listened to him on the radio and didn't see his expressions, but his sentences were short and repetitive and included no rousing moments.

This war--along with its twin war in Iraq--has been a disaster. That anyone can continue to defend our presence in Afghanistan, when our own country remains in shambles and declines day by day, is beyond me.

The fact is, there is no soaring rhetoric to describe our ten unproductive years fighting a war that was never worth fighting in the first place.

The End of the World

I laughed (along with lots of people) at Harold Camping's apocalyptic prediction this week. On Sunday afternoon I told my family I would be leaving them soon, and at 6:00 that night--when the rapture was supposed to start--I said, "I feel like I'm floating." The jokes about these supposed ends of the world are themselves endless.

But then on Tuesday The New York Times ran two articles together: one on Camping's revised prediction that both the rapture and the world's end will arrive now on October 21, and one on the aftermath of the Joplin tornado--the search for the living and the dead. In reading the articles I realized that the monster tornado hit Joplin around the same time that Camping's saved souls were supposed to be ascending to heaven. At around the same time that the rest of us would begin our hell on earth.

Which is exactly what happened in Joplin, Missouri.

We don't need firebrand preachers and Bible-waving soothsayers to remind us that the end of the world arrives every day for someone somewhere on the globe. If we forget, we're quickly reminded by storms or by illness or by death.

If the rapture ever comes, it will surely take all of us for none of us deserves the suffering we endure. It's part of being human.

The Bogeyman

As a child I worried about the bogeyman. If I left my bike outside overnight, the bogeyman might take it. If I walked home in the dark after playing outside, the bogeyman might get me. I never saw him, but he was always there.

It didn't occur to me until this week that an entire nation might fear the same bogeyman. Yet we did. His machinations created the stuff of nightmares: jumping from burning buildings; being buried alive; knowing you're about to crash.

I didn't think much about Osama bin Laden in recent years. But I realize now that he was always there, lingering in the dark. Now that he's gone, though, I wonder what fears will take his place. For when the child learns that there's no bogeyman, she feels relief, yes, but soon learns that danger itself is ever present in ever many forms. Though the devil is gone, evil remains.

Are we safer today than we were before Sunday night? I doubt it. But maybe now that we've gotten the bogeyman and buried him at the bottom of the sea, we can regain the balance and vision we need to move beyond September 11 and its disastrous legacy.

Thoughts on Libya

1. President Obama's speech on Monday night was thoughtful and compelling. I understand his decision to intercede in Libya, and I appreciate his determination to protect others from genocide.

2. I don't understand, though, where the money comes from to fund warfare in America. It's like a giant keg at a frat party--simply turn on the spigot and let the gold flow. Troop escalations, no-fly zones, pre-emptive wars--the money is always there.

3. But when it comes to domestic needs, we're broke. Our Congress is now arguing over which vulnerable group to stiff next, and we don't have money to feed our hungry or educate our children.

4. Are we the world's self-sacrificing protector?

5. Or are we simply in love with war?

Spring Reflections

Sometimes I wonder how much Mother Earth can take--with missiles exploding in Libya and radioactive iodine leaching into the water of Tokyo. Yet here in North Carolina spring has arrived with its usual beauty.


Named for the 18th-century Scottish botanist William Forsyth, forsythia is native to China. Oddly enough, its flowers can produce lactose. For me, forsythia is forever linked to tennis, for as a child I practiced hitting tennis balls against the side of our garage next to these brilliant yellow flowers.


The eastern redbud, or Judas tree, comes from the Greek word for weaver's shuttle. Supposedly the tree upon which Judas Iscariot hung himself, the original white flowers turned red with blood and shame--though the flowers as we know them are pink. Perhaps, then, the suicide is meant to be seen as a more muted and nuanced event, and not as a stark or harsh act suggested by the color of blood.


The star magnolia is native to Honshu, Japan's largest island. Off its coast is where the earthquake hit and the tsunami began.


Phlox comes from the Greek word for flame, closely related to the word phlegein, which means "to burn"--kind of like Libya and Japan.


The helleborus, or Lenten rose, is not a rose. Many of its species are poisonous, and it was used in witchcraft to summon demons. In Greek mythology, though, Melampus of Pylos used hellebore to save the daughters of the king of Argos from madness.

Maybe nothing is as it seems. Maybe, in the end, all we see is "through a glass, darkly," as the Apostle Paul tells us.

It's just that in the spring the colors are so beautiful. So heartbreakingly beautiful.

Center Stage

Remember the beginning of the year when nothing was happening? Well, in three short months the world's turned upside-down. Revolutions, earthquakes, and bombs erupt so fast that they push each other off the front page. And while most of these upheavals are happening abroad, their long-term impacts won't remain so. As Thomas Friedman described yesterday in The New York Times, the resulting pattern of higher oil prices and climate disruptions leading to higher food prices and to greater instability will continue to loop back on itself in the absence of strong American leadership.

Enter Barack Obama, a leader whose erratic pattern loops back on itself as well. We've seen in his first two years a tendency to retreat--an inability or unwillingness to exercise his might. Friedman cites, for example, the President's lack of leadership specifically on climate and fiscal policy. Time and again the President defers to our inept Congress when his own words would carry more weight.

We've heard from President Obama on Libya, and he spoke out--finally and forcefully--on behalf of the Egyptian revolution. He needs to continue this pattern of staying on the front page. As the world feels like it's spinning out of control, the American President can't recede into the background.

We can't afford this, and--as Friedman makes clear--neither can the world.

History Lessons

Should anyone really be surprised anymore when oppressed people finally rise up and overthrow their governments? We need only look to examples from history--our own and that of other nations--to recognize the events playing out in Egypt. And we need only look to our own history to remember what can happen when we side with dictators.

History is everywhere in the news these days. Michele Bachmann told us recently that our founding fathers worked hard to end slavery, and the Republicans cite the Constitution whenever they can (except when they confuse it with the Declaration of Independence). And when anyone bothers to take note of the endless war in Afghanistan, inevitable comparisons arise to both the Vietnam War and to the Soviet defeat.

That it's important to understand history should go without saying. Yet our public schools in Durham are ignoring this fact. With pressures building from the "No Child Left Behind" Act and now "Race to the Top" funds, our teachers must focus almost exclusively on math and reading. Science still gets its own time slot, but social studies is an afterthought. It's no longer an essential academic subject.

As it is, Americans haven't done a great job in learning the lessons of history. Now it seems like there's no longer history to learn.

Reflections on the SOTU

Part I. John Boehner seemed oddly uncomfortable throughout the speech. He didn't fit his new clothes as Speaker of the House, and certainly didn't resemble someone riding a wave of change. He looked liked he'd eaten something sour. I wonder what this means for the work of this Congress.

Part II. President Reagan's idea in 1982 to honor ordinary heroes at the SOTU was brilliant. I love watching the people who sit with the First Lady; Tuesday night was no exception. They're the only ones in the room who look like the rest of us and seem to have a clue of what living in this country is really like. Especially wonderful was the woman from Forsyth County, North Carolina, who has returned to school to pursue a degree in biotechnology. When President Obama began speaking about her, she turned to those around her and said, "That's me! That's me!"

Pure spontaneity is not what these speeches are about.

Part III. The long, thunderous applause for our troops disturbed me, not because they don't deserve it. They do. But the applause was like the bumper stickers that say "Support our Troops"; these feel like lip service paid to people who give up their lives in ways that the rest of us can't imagine and aren't called on to do. We're not even asked to pay more to support their work. All we need to do is clap every so often and all will be well.

Part IV. I was glad to see President Obama dispel the arrogant notion of American exceptionalism without giving up on American idealism. Finally someone told us from the top what we need to hear: China is now home to the world's fastest computer, South Koreans have greater internet access than we do, our own engineers give our infrastructure a "D," and we have sunk to 9th place in the percentage of college degrees held. So much for an America that's better than the rest of the world.

Yet the President reminded us at the same time that "we are the nation of Edison and the Wright brothers; of Google and Facebook." He called this our Sputnik moment and challenged us to do better. I liked his message. We may have talents as a nation, but these aren't automatically handed to us. We need to work hard and to think imaginatively to reclaim a special place in the world.

Part V. Nobody called out, "You lie." Maybe we're moving, gradually, to a better place.

Eisenhower Wisdom

Guess who said this?

"Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired signifies, in the final sense, a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and not clothed. This world in arms is not spending money alone. It is spending the sweat of its laborers, the genius of its scientists, the hopes of its children. This is not a way of life at all in any true sense. Under the cloud of threatening war, it is humanity hanging from a cross of iron."

Dwight D. Eisenhower, From a speech before the American Society of Newspaper Editors, April 16, 1953

Imagine any Democratic president saying this today, let alone a Republican. Where is Ike when we need him?

Perhaps it takes a man from the battlefield, and a person of unusual humanity, to understand truly the senselessness of war.