The Car Keys are Like the Nuclear Codes

My father-in-law Art was extraordinary.  He returned to the States after being a front-line radioman in WWII to build a life with the wife he married just before shipping to the South Pacific.  He was one of those people whom Tom Brokaw labeled as the “greatest generation.”  Art lived humbly and took care of his immediate family and many others.  He was always checking in on some elderly relative or another.  On weekends, he’d take his kids and any from the neighborhood on excursions.  He was the guy who’d give you, as the aphorism goes, the shirt off his back.  Except with Art, that wasn’t metaphorical.  I had to be careful not to compliment him on something because he’d insist I take it.  I have a beautiful Pendleton, wool-lined vest that he bought on a trip to the Pendelton factory and gave to me a few days later when I admired it. 

 

Art was also a brilliant civil engineer.  He never finished his degree at UC Berkeley because it became impossible to juggle a job, a growing family, and school.  Instead, he went to work for the city where he lived and helped to manage city infrastructure.  He had a preternatural skill with math formulas and complex calculations.  He used the skills and knowledge he developed to build a side business as a surveyor on weekends as the community surrounding him grew in the post-war building boom. 

 

So when he got to the point where he got lost driving familiar streets, couldn’t remember how to set the initial point of a survey, and started to be obsessive over trivia, we knew something was wrong.  With time, his inability to manage simple tasks like going to the grocery store and returning with what he had intended to purchase became major signs of concern.  This wasn’t the man we knew.  We knew he was experiencing dementia.  His physicians confirmed what we could see.  If you’ve had this experience with a loved one, you know the feeling of hopeless freefall off of a cliff that comes as a result.  You tumble downward with them and look for the soft spots on the way down. 

 

As things progressed, his son had to take his truck away to avoid any more accidents.  We discovered that he kept a loaded pistol and had killed a bird in his yard that he was trying to scare away – we took away the gun.  He’d awaken in the middle of the night, dress, and walk a mile down the hill to the Catholic church where he’d awaken the priests in the rectory and ask them to hear his confession.  In the midst of summer heat, he’d put on three or four jackets, grab some tools to put in a bag, and leave to go “up north,” a vague reference to some unknown destination. 

 

In many ways, he was still the same gentle soul we’d always known.  When he had to be in a care facility, he would stand by the door and have conversations with people who came to visit.  Because he was friendly and coherent, visitors assumed that he was also there to visit someone and they’d open the security door to let him out.  He would teach the others in the facility words in Tagalog, a language he picked up 70 years before when his father was stationed in the Philippines.  Eventually, he didn’t remember his wife of 60+ years, and his health failed.  But that took a few years.  Even as he was in his final days in a hospital bed where kidney failure took his life, he greeted me with a happy, “Hello, Roberto,” an affectionate nickname he used for me over the years. 

 

The prefrontal cortex of a brain manages what’s called “executive functioning.”   That brain region regulates emotion and helps with planning and organizing.  It provides us with the ability to regulate our impulses and handle complex tasks.  In Art’s progression, those parts of his brain functioned less well with each month.  Someone who didn’t know him would talk with him, and he’d appear to be in fully cognitive.  The speech functions of his brain weren’t affected.  But if you knew him and heard him talking about going for a walk to visit his daughter that day, you’d know that wasn’t possible because both daughters lived hundreds of miles away.  And you’d have to listen closely to hear how ideas that he discussed weren’t really connected.   Instead of being able to manage complex ideas, as he did throughout his life, he became minutely obsessed and unable to manage some emotions – increasingly focusing on his dislike of certain politicians that he heard about as he listened compulsively to AM talk radio. 

 

I wasn’t qualified to diagnose or treat Art’s dementia.  But his decline was obvious to anyone who saw him over time.  While we had a medical diagnosis to confirm his condition, that was so we could explore treatments with medical professionals.  His everyday actions told us what the doctors didn’t need to explain.  The family watched and we did our best to keep him safe and comfortable.  It’s what we’ve done with multiple relatives who had levels of dementia, and the experiences have left an impression on me of what dementia looks like. 

 

The news reports I’ve seen over the past year have me thinking.  I see the president exhibiting the same characteristics that overtook my father-in-law.  The list of examples grows with each day’s news about the president:  his inability to logically explain ideas; his obsessiveness and hyper-focus on inconsequential details; his shifting positions on critical issues; his incomprehensible and offensive messages to world leaders; his inability to regulate his emotions. 

 

To anyone who’s watched someone slide into dementia, the patterns are familiar.  It’s all very different than how dementia gets portrayed in movies and television where it’s commonly shown simply as memory loss.  Memory loss is a part, but there are other indicators of declining cognition as the person loses executive functioning.  We see the president demonstrate those indicators daily. 

 

Unlike what our family provided my father-in-law, though, no one seems to be looking at these symptoms and offering an intervention that would mitigate the effects of what everyone sees.  Instead, because of the position he holds, everyone around him defers to his whims and allows him to careen out of control as he sends troops to invade a foreign country, builds a powerful federal police force to invade cities he doesn’t like, and threatens our allies.  The actions get attributed to his radical world view.  But what if that ideology is augmented by diminished cognition?

 

His advisors take advantage of his whims to enact policies that bring the nation closer to their own vision of authoritarianism and oligarchy.  These people work behind the scenes.  They enact a direction for the nation that’s completely contrary to the “more perfect union” that the nation has striven to create since its founding.  The ones closest to him feed the narcissistic needs at the core of his personality.  As happened with my father-in-law, his current state stems from the person he has been.  The president has always needed to be worshipped, and the team around him worships as they lie, cheat, and steal in his name.  In the twisted world he’s created, good ideas don’t win, but sycophantic fealty does.  He’s lived his privileged life like that so none of this is surprising.  However, his erratic actions suggest that there’s something more than narcissism happening. 

 

When responsible people see a relative behave like the president has acted in the past year, we take away the car keys and make certain that person can cause no harm.  Failing to do so puts the person and everyone around that person at risk.  When it’s the president of the U.S. with the powers of that office, the dangers are exponentially more significant – to individuals, as we’ve seen in Minneapolis, to communities as different as Chicago and Portland, Maine, to the entire globe.  As his national police force becomes more out of control; as his social policies create more damage to the most vulnerable; as his saber-rattling destabilizes the world – it’s time to talk about taking away the keys before this presidency creates more damage. 

 

My observations and experiences aren’t diagnosis.  As I noted above, I’m not qualified, and I’m not in the position to offer more than these observations.  There are people whose job demands that they do more than observe what we all see.  It’s time for the nation’s elected and judicial leaders to do the job that the Constitution demands them to do and judge him for fitness to the office.  This isn’t a partisan question.  This is a question about the nation’s survival.  The Constitution assumes that the nation’s leader is mentally fit for the job’s responsibilities.  This president is showing he is most likely not. 

Is presidential racism unique to the current one?

I keep reading the strong reactions that some people have to the president’s racist rants about Somali Americans and other people of color.  People reacting seem to conclude that this is the worst presidential exhibition of racism that they’ve seen.  I’ve read and heard more than one person declare this to be as worse than any that the commentor has seen, in their words, “…in my lifetime.” 

But here’s the reality:  Presidential racism isn’t new.  Of course, there was Andrew Johnson who replaced Abraham Lincoln when Lincoln was killed.  Andrew Johnson attempted to relitigate the Civil War by subverting Black folks’ ability to participate as full citizens.  There’s also Woodrow Wilson’s stand as an apologist for the “lost cause” propaganda, his activism against civil and Black workers’ rights, and even his actions against African Americans attending Princeton when he was its president.  But you can argue people like that were in the distant past.  The “in my lifetime” claim limits to a much more recent period.  In my experience, recent racist presidents aren’t new either.  Maybe that’s because I’m a lot older than many folks, and I have more comparisons to make.  Or maybe folks just assumed that prior presidents weren’t racists.  But the truth is that we’ve had presidents in my lifetime whose views on race were pretty similar to the current president’s. 

 

For example, there was Richard Nixon.  His Quaker upbringing should have taught him to respect all people.  The Quakers have been at the forefront of justice movements since the group’s founding in the mid-1600s.  Respect for all people is as natural as breathing to them.  I’m guessing that breaking from the lessons of his early life contributed to why Nixon wasn’t as boldly public as Wilson or the current president about his ideas on race.  As my progenitors used to say, “he was taught better.”  But the evidence found about his racist views on Black folks in his secret audio recordings is irrefutable.  

 

Nixon’s predecessor, Lyndon Johnson, is often hailed for the civil rights legislation his administration shepherded through Congress and that he signed into law.  However, his attitude toward Black folks is often described by terms like “conflicted” or “complicated.”  Or his views are ascribed to his being a Southerner of his generation.  But those are convenient tropes that don’t address the racist language he used in private or his condescending actions toward Black people.  The legislation came from the public pressure he faced that civil rights groups and the media of his day were exerting as human rights violations that had remained hidden for generations became dinner-table conversation topics.

 

The Civil Rights Act (1964), the Voting Rights Act (1965), and the Fair Housing Act (1968) – all passed while Lyndon Johnson was in office – were the result of political and public pressure.  The concurrent “War on Poverty” that Johnson initiated in 1964 claimed to attack injustice while creating opportunity for those who’d been excluded from full participation in the society.  However, Johnson built much of that “war” on the false perception of race as a deficit that needed remedy – a viewpoint that was popularized by the thinking embodied in the 1963 Moynihan Report.   The Urban Institute, which Johnson is credited with founding in 1968, explores Johnson’s relationship with race at THIS link.  In that document, the organization also describes how it had to work hard at evolving beyond the colonial and paternalistic racism of its founding. 

 

Another president whose views on race aren’t widely understood is Ronald Reagan.  At the heart of his folksy, common-man libertarianism is a refusal to see the impacts of race in shaping the lived experience of people of color.  More importantly, he used race-baiting techniques to appeal to fears within the White population.  He developed a narrative that fed the White majority’s perception of Black folks as lazy schemers who only sought to take undeserved handouts from the government.  And in a 1971 phone call with Richard Nixon, Reagan references African leaders as “monkeys” whom he joked were “…still uncomfortable wearing shoes.” 

 

All three of these presidents’ views reflect majority opinions of their time, a time I lived through.  So this current president’s views on race are not new “in my lifetime.”  The current president’s comments are more public and brazen than his recent predecessors.  As many of his ideas do, his perceptions of people of color would have nicely fit in a conversation with Woodrow Wilson.  So what Johnson, Nixon, and Reagan said behind closed doors now is public presidential language – and this language forms the rationale for reason for unabashed and rarely challenged racist actions.  However, the disdain for people of color is not new among presidents. 

 

That’s important to acknowledge because the agenda that comes with racism, even when it’s buried or hidden, impacts the laws and regulations that presidents enact.  As the Urban Institute document referenced above attests, it takes years and a lot of work to overcome the long-term effects of how they put their racist beliefs into practice – especially when those actions masquerade as help.  So let’s acknowledge that the current president’s racism isn’t a new phenomenon among presidents.  Let’s also acknowledge the work that nation needs to undertake to dismantle past policies and practices that stemmed from those beliefs.  If we do that first, then we can tackle the current president’s words and actions.

The education system owns part of the blame

The U.S. education system owns some responsibility for why we have the current president.  I’ve heard a lot of people say something like that, but they mean something different than I do.  They typically mean that voters needed more education on civics, the Constitution, learning to spot lies, or some other missing skills or knowledge.  All those may be true, but that’s not what I mean when I ascribe this blame.  In my experience, it’s the system itself that bears some fault – what its goals are and how it operates daily.  I internally debated whether to write and post this essay because of the serious, current attacks on education.  I wondered if this is the time to add a critique to my profession.  However, my concerns subsided when I realized that this is exactly the time to offer this critique – at the time when we should be questioning our role and past efforts so that we can strengthen this work against the barrage of attacks.  

Understanding what I intend means understanding the difference between explicit learning versus internalized learning.  Explicit learning is what we expect learners to know as a result of any learning experience.  We may want learners to understand how to multiply fractions, to write a paragraph, or to know about the causes of the Revolutionary War.  Those are explicit intentions.  In contrast, internalized learning is what happens as a result of learners experiencing the lesson.  They may come to internalize, for example, that multiplying fractions is too hard for them to do, or that organizing a paragraph into a logical order is enjoyable, or that history like the Revolutionary War is uninteresting.  Internalized learning defines the relationship that the learner has to the subject.  If you’ve heard someone say, “I didn’t like math and wasn’t any good at it,” or, “History just wasn’t my thing in school,” you’ve heard them express the lessons they internalized. 

 

Explicit and internalized.  Both exist every time learning is supposed to happen.  But educators and systems tend to focus only on explicit learning objectives with not as much care for the internalized.  That’s a mistake since the internalized relationship that learners develop to a subject greatly influences how they’ll really learn that subject.  People who connect positively to a topic will learn.  People who don’t make that connection won’t.  A teacher can force learners to memorize information, but that teacher can’t force people to learn it.  There’s a difference.  Just ask any adult what information they remember from a school subject they didn’t enjoy.  While most adults passed the courses they disliked during their education, they retain little to nothing from the experience. 

 

It's like the last day of a course I recall from my undergraduate days.  As we left the last session, a fellow student and I walked out of the classroom and the building.  When we crossed into daylight, my classmate took the course book from under his arm and threw it with force into nearby bushes where he left it.  He exclaimed that he was done.  His act embodied what people do with the subjects where they make no connections.  It is a sad truth that much of formal education alienates students.  By the time children enter early elementary grades, education is less about inquisitiveness and exploration than it is about regimented bits of information that only engage some learners. 

 

Unfortunately, that leads to an internalized learning for many people that schooling, and by extension formal learning, isn’t for them.  I hear this expressed all the time when people tell me something like, “I wasn’t good at school.”  Or, “My sister was the smart one.”  We use those experiences to internalize who is “smart” and who isn’t.  That internalization establishes our self-belief in how far we can go in the education system.  It’s also a system that favors some kinds of learning over others as people who succeed in the model of education benefit from it.  Education is not, despite all our claims, a meritocracy where the best succeed.  It’s a system that values and rewards certain kinds of thinking and certain ways of exhibiting knowledge.  It’s a system that intentionally culls the student population into learners and non-learners because of how it favors and rewards people who can succeed at it. 

 

Here's the problem:  By creating systems of who’s “smart” and who’s not, we start segregating ourselves by those categories.  We socialize by those categories; we engage in activities by those categories; we set expectations for our offspring by those categories; we live our lives by those categories.  People who complete college tend to come from certain ZIP Codes.  Children of professionals become professionals and move to those ZIP Codes.  Children of trades workers become trades workers.  Yes, there are exceptions, but those are despite the system.  The U.S. educational system helps support a social stratification that we claim doesn’t exist – a separation that gets broadened as the education system favors some over others.  These internalized lessons of education help determine our life paths.  We become insulated from others who aren’t on similar paths.  In that insulation, we can start to distrust people who aren’t like us.  So people who succeed in the education system can come to distrust those who don’t, and people who don’t attend college can come to distrust those who do.  It’s an outcome of isolation and a system that favors some over others.

 

My descriptions come from my personal experiences in the education system.  These observations began when I was an elementary and high school student who experienced a system that didn’t think like I did – a system where educators told me I was “smart” but not very capable because I was unfocused and lazy.  I was fortunate that I never internalized that lesson (see the explanation for HERE, on pages 65-82).  My observations continued through an undergraduate degree and two graduate degrees where I learned to succeed in the system.  But I saw others fail when they couldn’t – and I saw that most people never got the chance to try. 

 

My experiences as a secondary English teacher affirmed my observations as I saw many students discarded by a system that neither understood them nor cared to understand them.  I taught in systems that celebrated the twenty percent who went on to four-year colleges while condescendingly smiling at the remainder and showing them the exit.  What I saw continued when I became a community college teacher and asked students to tell me of their prior experiences in education and received overwhelmingly negative responses.  Finally, as I became a researcher, professor, and consultant to educational institutions, I saw how deeply committed that the education system is at maintaining the status quo that favors some over others.  My observations don’t arise from ideology.  They come from intimately witnessing. 

 

No wonder 77 million people didn’t trust the “elites.”  Folks with education, the people who succeeded at the education system, got a lot of advantage that others didn’t.  Republicans discovered how to exploit that gap a long time ago.  They’ve been stoking the mistrust that came from that gap since Richard Nixon’s appeal to “hard hat” and “silent majority” voters in the 1972 election.  Nixon, raised as a Quaker and trained as a lawyer who’d graduated from Whittier College and Duke Law, was by every definition an elite.  However, he learned to exploit workers’ misgivings about educated people.  Reagan built on that in 1980 by appealing to blue-collar workers and the Moral Majority that televangelist Jerry Falwell organized in the previous year.  The right-wing fundamentalist groups of the era were also stoked by a deep-seated distrust of people they identified as elites – enough so that they rejected one of their own, a Sunday-school-teaching, pious Baptist, in favor of a B-grade actor who could spin a folksy tale about the glory times of the past.  The most recent federal election refined that appeal through targeted social media, a sealed right-wing media ecology that ignored or lied about troublesome truths, and a cult base of voters that believe anything their leader says.

 

It's a split in the nation that got incubated in the classroom.  Childhood experiences in the education system gave a lot of adults a reason not to trust anything that’s a product of it.  The split was inevitable when so many people have so many bad experiences in school.  Denied opportunity in any form creates a reaction.  Langston Hughes warned us what would happen with a dream that’s always out of reach.  It may take a while, but the reaction to exclusion eventually explodes.  And if someone is devious enough to see the pressure building and take advantage of that reaction, it can be used by any conniving demagogue astute enough to use rhetorical trickery.  In the current nation, a lifelong con man who spent his life wrangling power and money from others knew exactly what levers to pull.  It’s why he exploits every facet of mistrust, whether it’s vaccines, elections, or diversity work.  If he can effectively label something as coming from “the elites,” he can harness people’s support against it.  The people and systems labeled as elites are the straw man to which all evils are ascribed. 

 

If my observations are right, then the nation has a deep problem that a new president, elected legislators, or the courts can’t fix.  The disaffection with education has created a group of people who are resentful of everything that education means.  That group is large.  And it has grown to contain not only people who don’t go to college, but people who attended college and found the processes dissatisfying. 

 

The solution involves words that have become anathema to the right wing:  equity and inclusion.  An education experience that puts learners’ success at the foreground, that ensures that every learner has a fair chance of success, and that supports every learner’s needs creates a different internalized lesson for learners.  At the core of our society, we all share the common experience of schooling; yet some of us leave it with an internalized message that has us distrustful of it and anything it produces.  That’s not a political statement.  It’s a statement of need.  The nation needs an education system that includes every learner and provides every learner equitable support to succeed.  Right now, we’re a long way from that. 

He's not childish - let’s not disparage our children by comparing them to the president

I spent nine years in junior high school.  I admit that I was a late bloomer, but not that late.  Seven of those years were teaching junior high school 30 years ago.  In other words, I’ve spent a fair amount of time being and then teaching those ages.  I’ve also seen who these children become, as some of my earliest students are now in their early 50s.  And based on those experiences, I believe that it’s insulting to children to compare the current president’s behavior to theirs.

Yes, pre-teens/teens can be petulant, petty, emotional, rash.  Yes, they can speak without the benefit of prior thought.  Yes, they can make up names for people and denigrate people without forethought for what that means for those people or to their own humanity.  They can lie incessantly and almost without knowing they are lying.  They can play one friend off of another to gain advantage over both.   And, yes, those are all traits of the current president. 

But children of that age are also incredibly inquisitive, deeply loyal, willing to work hard and commit, idealistic, and above else able to learn and evolve as humans – not characteristics that anyone would ascribe to the president.  They will “hate” one minute and “love” the next minute in their march toward adulthood.  But that’s part of the malleability of their growth.  As they cope with life changes, new-found responsibilities, and challenges, they adapt.  They become talented musicians and plumbers and scientists and bus drivers.  They become us, the adults of the society.  And that transformation isn’t something that somehow magically occurs at some age or stage.  It’s a slow process of maturation that begins in childhood and gets tempered with time and life. 

Contrast that to a fully formed adult who exhibits the destructive behaviors of a 13-year-old child.  When a child is petulant, rash, and hurtful toward others, we help the child modify those behaviors.  That way, the behaviors don’t hinder that child’s long-term emotional and social growth.  Eventually, most children learn the difference between ineffective and effective ways to engage the world.  So it’s unfair to compare a fully formed adult like the president to children because, as an adult, he had opportunities to change.  An adult who doesn’t change those behaviors reifies the behaviors into how he experiences the world and expresses himself in it.  That’s very different than what children do as they learn from mistakes and mature beyond ineffective and destructive mannerisms.

So let’s stop the unfair comparisons to our children.