I’m going to be trying something different with this column and I’m hoping you’ll come to loathe it as much as I already do. It goes like this: I read all the comments posted on Emerald Opinion pieces, pick one, and take the time to respond.

Many have been surprised by the degree of incivility displayed by Congress or at political rallies or by random people who happen to be caught on an iPhone saying something stupid or racist or racist and stupid with a hint of misogyny. With all our strides toward progress, we still seem to be surprised by people acting like jerks to one another.

You know who isn’t surprised? People who read the comments.

When it comes to comments, we hear things like: just ignore them, don’t engage and don’t take it personally. I have a problem with not engaging because the entire point of this column is to engage. This is an opinion section! I’m sharing my opinion because I think these topics matter; I’m not necessarily sharing them because I believe I am absolutely right. I simply think the discussion has merit. Doesn’t avoiding the comments defeat the purpose?

Don’t get me wrong, some of the people who comment are schmucks (or at least behave like schmucks in the cyber sphere). Many of them direct personal attacks because they can’t distinguish the writer from the piece. Many are just ignorant (think: lots of caps and exclamation points). But some commenters further the discussion and I think that should be given its due.

It is only fair that I start this shift by addressing a comment left on one of my own articles. Though I was tempted to dive right into political rants or healthcare, I think it’s best to start with an article I recently wrote about the University of Oregon School of Law.

In response to my article, a user identified as Liz Foote Treacy wrote the following comments:

“I don’t mean to sound cruel, but are you serious?”

Your response doesn’t sound cruel (at least not to me) and I think your response was (mostly) fair. I was hostile in the piece and obviously flippant. So, for where you are right that my tone could have been kinder or my paragraphs clearer, thank you for taking the time to comment. As for the rest…

“The majority of people don’t pass the bar in any state the first time around.”

If I accept this as true – it’s not but I can ignore this in order to address your point – I think it raises another question: do other states respond to low bar passage by lowering the passage rate? Part of what bothered me about the push – especially by the law school itself – to lower bar standards was that the required score hadn’t been changed in more than thirty years. For thirty years, we accepted it in Oregon and now it is suddenly unacceptable. I think it’s important to ask: what changed?

“79% is a pretty outstanding number in reality. 64% isn’t bad either.”

No, actually, it’s not. In looking at the raw data available for 2017, UO is 82nd in the country for bar passage. That is objectively not “outstanding” – especially when considering this is as applied to the new, lower standard.

“And by the way, that’s a “D” in public school as well.”

Trying really hard to ignore how petty that sounds. Obviously, I realize it’s a D in public school as well. Though, as I implied in the article, 64% could be as high as a B at UO law due to their curve. That was kind of the point.

“In terms of your classes and their availability, welcome to the University of Oregon, where students have been suffering from this “cluster” class system for years- turning their four year degrees into five, six…”

This is the part where I completely agree I made it seem as if my personal distaste for the cancelled class was the reason for the article. For that, I apologize. But here’s the thing, I’m not mad they cancelled the class. I’m livid they are willing to pour time and money into advocating for a lower bar standard but are unwilling to offer more bar classes or hold the actual bar classes they claim to offer because of administrative reasons. Doesn’t that seem like cognitive dissonance?

Also, if you’re currently caught in the “cluster” you described, I’m sorry. That sucks.

“Oregon does have one of the toughest bar exams so making some amendments isn’t going to make Oregon lawyers “the dumbest in the country.” Far from it.”

Two things: 1) not anymore and 2) the quotation used in the comment isn’t actually from my article. It’s the title of an article I quoted and not language I would have chosen of my own accord.

“Maybe think about law school at Willamette or a smaller university where you will get the kind of personal attention you received in home schooling. You’re putting your very personal needs ahead of the end game for most of your classmates here.”

I hate to end with a negative but here is where the comment is just wrong. It does a couple of things I’m not impressed by and I think it’s vital to break down statements such as these: 1) advice on where I should go to law school since UO seems to not be working out (according to her read) and 2) assuming I’m placing my “very personal needs” ahead of my classmates.

For the first, I’m doing quite well at UO. I even find the time to write this column and participate in all sorts of community activities. (I also run ultra marathons in my spare time.) The reason statements like this are so offensive is because they are an attempt to undermine the entire point of the article. I have complaints about UO so I must be the problem. It’s weak-minded and needs to be addressed when it arises. Failing to agree with someone doesn’t mean the points are invalid – it might mean there’s a valid discussion to be had.

For the second, nope. This is a frustration shared by many classmates (and faculty members) and not some “very personal” issue. Additionally, and maybe I didn’t make this clear enough, I care substantially more about the profession of law than about my classmates or myself passing the bar. ‬

Do I think lowering the standard is the worst thing ever? No, not in the least. Do I think first time bar passage is indicative of whether or not you’ll be a good lawyer? No, not in the least.

What I do believe – passionately – is that when someone struggles and we have the ability to help, we should help. Students pay somewhere in the ballpark of $150,000 to attend law school. Most emerge with enormous debt (and less hair). If we know those students are struggling to pass the bar and the bar is the only way to gain entry to this profession, I think we have an obligation to help in every way we possibly can. I don’t have control over the classes offered or the teachers available or the administration of the exam; I have a column and I’m using it to the best of my abilities. For better or worse.

The post Read the Comments: Liz Foote Treacy on Bar Passage appeared first on Emerald Media.

As a homeschool student, my entire year’s grade depended on standardized testing. This angered me for one specific reason: I couldn’t get a perfect score even if I answered every question correctly. In state testing, you are evaluated as falling into a certain percentile range. I could score in the 99th percentile as many times as I liked, but there was no such thing as the 100th percentile.

I couldn’t fathom the idea of being compared to other students rather than knowing how many questions I answered correctly versus how many I answered incorrectly. Imagine my surprise when I went to law school and realized everything would be graded on a curve (I actually had to ask what that meant.)

Law schools have been hemorrhaging money for the last decade and many have lowered their standards for admission. It’s easier to get into law school than it has ever been and the curve means it’s also easier to pass law school. You don’t have to be smart to get a law degree; you just have to be smarter than whatever your school chooses to label the bottom of the curve. I have a theory that you could take a final blindfolded and still get a C. I have not tested this theory.

With this status of law school grading, the bar exam remains the last guardian of the galaxy — for lawyers, that is. And UO has not done well against the bar exam. In the past four years, UO law students have not seen more than 79 percent of first-time bar passage. In 2015, UO students saw a 64.2 percent first-time bar passage rate. Or, to put it in homeschool grading terms, a D. (Passage rates provided by Dean Espinola, UO School of Law.)

So what steps has UO Law taken to fix this problem? Well, the students at UO (and other Oregon law schools) petitioned the Oregon Bar to lower the standard. Essentially, they requested the Oregon Bar adjust its grading to meet the new low of the student curve. The Oregon Bar obliged, setting the new passage rate to take effect on the July 2017 bar.

To fairly represent the information, the Oregon Bar passage rate was higher than nearly every other rate in the country. Oregon law students were required to meet a higher standard in order to become lawyers. This meant passing the bar in Oregon meant something.

Now, I’m not sure what it means.

The curious thing about petitioning for a lower bar passage rate is that UO Law had seen a correlation between bar passage rates and bar prep courses. The UO students who took bar prep and took it seriously consistently passed the bar in high numbers.

If bar prep correlates to bar passage, why did UO Law just cut one of the summer courses that’s covered on the bar?

If you’re unfortunate enough to be in my position, this not only meant an inability to take a bar material course but also complicated graduation planning since there wasn’t a replacement offering.

The cognitive dissonance between the problem of bar passage and the proposed solution didn’t stop with canceling a summer course. Next fall, the only bar prep course offered is limited to 14 students despite the fact each year has approximately 100 students. In spring, the only course is limited to 30 students. It should also be noted that these courses are for “Legal Writing Bar Prep” and there are no courses offered through UO Law for general bar prep.

Maybe it was easier to petition for a lower passage rate than to offer more preparation opportunities. I mean, it’s not like we can foresee a political situation in which it would be helpful to have well-trained lawyers at the ready.

I suppose like most things, I’m helpless to change this. I asked the administration to reconsider and nothing happened. I’ve rearranged my schedule to maintain my early graduation date and I will do what many have done before me: jump off the sinking ship and swim while I still can.

There is still a part of me that is annoyed that I couldn’t get a 100 percent on my state exams even if I earned a perfect score. Now, I’m annoyed that I can get a 100 percent without getting every question correct – that’s the nature of the curve.

Maybe I am in the minority but I think we should better prepare students rather than lower our expectations for them. I think we should continue to have the highest standard instead of submitting to the bottom of the curve. I say these things knowing that I may not pass the bar exam. I am not an exceptional student; I am not the top of my class. But the profession of law matters more to me than the ease with which I am personally able to pass the exam.

In 2015, Douglas Perry published an op-ed in the Oregonian that asked: Are new Oregon lawyers among the ‘dumbest’ in the country? The piece was responded to by an attorney positing that those who pass the Oregon bar exam should be congratulated: due to the high standard, this was an accomplishment that would make the lawyers in this state better.

What about now? Should we still be congratulating those who pass the bar exam or should we be investing in stock for Legalzoom?

The post Sherman: The law school is falling short and pulling standards with it appeared first on Emerald Media.

I’m too angry and too tired of this subject matter to offer my usual narrative. Today, there is no backstory or prelude; we need to talk about rape.

Rape is one of the limited exceptions the GOP is willing to offer for federally funded abortions (federal funding such as Medicaid is not allowed to be used for abortions except in cases of rape or when necessary to save the life of the mother). Though this hasn’t kept some from objecting to this exception with the belief that you can’t get pregnant from “legitimate rape.”(Statistics demonstrate you’re more likely to get pregnant from rape than from sex*).

In Paul Ryan’s early efforts to restrict abortion funding and effectively strip away access for women, he called for the rape exception to only apply to what was termed “forcible rape.” Spoiler alert: if it doesn’t look like an episode of “Law and Order SVU,” it probably won’t be classified as “forcible rape.” The wording deliberately restricted access to abortions and put a substantial burden of proof on women; they were forced to prove rape in order to abort a rape-induced pregnancy.

This burden of proof, atop a myriad of other legal and financial restrictions, substantially limited women’s access to abortions. More than 30,000 women become pregnant through rape every year. In 31 states, a rapist can sue for custody. If you’re at all interested in what custody arrangements look like in those cases, consider that the man currently inhabiting the oval office said you can “grab [women] by the pussy” and was still elected.

I know. I know. This is old news. We’ve all heard about attempts to destroy Planned Parenthood, laws to regulate abortion to the point of extinction and senseless killings in the name of the pro-life movement. Why am I enraged about this now?

The GOP pushed its proposed healthcare bill through the House and celebrated its accomplishment by smiling the smiles of privileged men with government healthcare who won’t be affected by the bill. The bill currently sitting before the Senate has been accused of labeling rape a pre-existing condition for insurance purposes (among other anti-women themes); however, the rape issue actually isn’t true.

As of now, the bill simply allows states to opt out of the ACA’s protections for those with pre-existing conditions, including those who were victims of rape if an insurance company chooses to label it a pre-existing condition. Even if states do opt out, 45 states currently have measures in place to prevent insurance companies from charging more because of rape.

In theory, at least.

In actuality, there are a lot of ways around these protections just as there are a lot of ways around a woman’s right to choose. Passing this bill in the House was a step down a destructive path in healthcare. It will impact the lives of women across this country. It will limit access to healthcare for women. It will stand as a monument to the patriarchy this nation clings to so tightly.

But it’s not just bad for women.

The outrage over the belief that this bill labeled rape a pre-existing condition was warranted, despite the inaccuracy of information, because the bill doesn’t prevent insurance companies from labeling rape a pre-existing condition. It also doesn’t prevent pregnancy, asthma, diabetes, heart disease, lung ailments, cancer, prior surgery, food allergies, obesity or having red hair from being labeled a pre-existing condition.

The bill makes it explicitly clear that people cannot be denied coverage because of pre-existing conditions; it doesn’t say they can’t be effectively denied coverage through cost-prohibitive premiums. This bill is not dangerous because of what it does say but because of what it clearly doesn’t: It doesn’t say there is a right to healthcare, regardless of your medical history.

As the days roll forward and yet another scandal breaks, it’s easy to forget the ominous nature of the choice set before the Senate. It’s easy to forget that if this administration goes the way of Watergate, we could very well end up with President Paul Ryan determining the rights of women (or lack thereof).

In many ways, I wish the bill had expressly labeled rape a pre-existing condition. At least then I’d get to ask: who has the burden of proof to show a woman was raped? #goodluckwiththat

*It’s not rape vs. consensual sex because any sex that is not consensual is rape.

The post Sherman: Misogyny is a pre-existing condition appeared first on Emerald Media.

I used to live along the route of the Boston marathon but I never went to cheer. I don’t like crowds, not even the sound of the crowds outside my apartment on marathon day. That was before I moved to “Tracktown USA” — before I realized I’d been a runner my entire life without ever putting on sneakers. So when my alarm went off at 4 a.m. on Sunday morning, I threw on sweats and Asics (and a lot of vaseline) and headed out for a day of pretending I don’t hate crowds.

My first run was an accident. My roommate, a man who says things like, “Can you drive me to my first marathon of the season?” suggested I grab some shorts on our way out the door. He thought they might have a 5k I could walk. Some 16 hours later, at the butt crack of dawn, I found myself standing in front of a registration table and pulling money out of my Velcro wallet. I was a bit short and one of the volunteers — thank you, Ben Cardenas, wherever you are — pitched in.

That’s the story of how I ended up running a half marathon one deceptively serene morning in Idaho – having never run before in my life.

That was almost exactly a year ago and I’ve run more than a half dozen half marathons since. I’ve also run seven marathons, six 50k trail races and finished my first 50-miler last month. There were some others but those were the highlights. At one point in these adventures, I told my cardiologist that I didn’t have an off-switch and she asked me to install a dimmer. I have not done so.

But running started a long time before that first race. For me, it started with PTSD and the symptoms that go along with it. Things like debilitating depression, insomnia and the kind of nightmares that follow you throughout the day. Running was an obsession long before I had a place for it or a pair of proper shoes. Running, before I named it and saw it take shape, was how I put one foot in front of the other every day and somehow didn’t die. I should have. But there was running.

There is running.

The Eugene Marathon didn’t necessitate a 4 a.m. wake up call but I was volunteering at one of the shuttle stops beforehand. Actually, I was participating in the entire event as a volunteer. I’d asked the coordinator if I could “sweep” the race — going at the pace of the last runner and ensuring everyone gets through the course. She was elated by the offer and surprised someone was interested in volunteering to essentially walk a marathon. She didn’t know how many times people had done that for me, literally or metaphorically.

I met up with my last runner about 10 miles in and stayed with him for the duration. He was 68 and running his first marathon after only deciding to bump up from the half to the full two days earlier. There was something familiar in that.

Eugene has been Tracktown USA for quite a while, but the motivations for running take many different forms. (Wolfram Burner/Flickr)

We talked about life and love and the pursuit of happiness. We spent more than 15 miles engaged in accepting one another and embracing the journey before us. There was no discussion of political leaders or election tampering; when it comes to truly knowing another human being, those things simply aren’t important. Near the end of the race, he asked me why I was compelled to do these runs, the ultras through swamps and mountain trails and the marathons I finish even though I’m usually last. I told him what I will tell you:

I run because I can’t fix my life. I can’t take away the damage of my past. I can’t change the dice rolled by the gods on my behalf. But I can do this: I can choose to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

He understood that better than most.

I know I normally write about politics and constitutional law and the world at large, but this is too important for me to spin some b.s. and tell you it’s beautiful. Life is messy. Life is hard. Everyone needs a little bit of running – by whatever name you choose to call it. Call it yoga or sudoku or Netflix marathons of “Bojack Horseman.” Call it baking bread or reading novels or swimming in lakes on cool afternoons. Call it whatever you want, but find that thing and hold on. Because things don’t always get worse. Because depression lies. Because there are more books to read and more mountains to climb and, well, because running. There is always running, here in “Tracktown U.S.A.”

The post Sherman: Just keep running appeared first on Emerald Media.

For the last week, I’ve been sitting in front of my computer attempting to think of a clever hook or intro or some way into this story that would cause a reader to be invested. I tend toward the narrative and thought I might share something from personal experience or even a joke to lighten the mood.

But I can’t.

There are too many personal experiences to choose from, too many tragedies for them to successfully hide behind a joke. I could tell you about jobs I quit because I was afraid to be in a room alone with my employer. I could tell you about the times I’ve been grabbed or groped on public transit. I could tell you about the instances of sexual assault, or abuse or rape that I left unreported because I was afraid; I blamed myself. For me, and for many women like me, this story is more than a celebrity scandal — it’s a painful reminder of daily life as a woman in the United States.

Last week, Bill O’Reilly, a top-rated host on Fox News, was ousted from his role as an influential personality in the world of cable television. This forced exile came about after agreements came to light in which Fox News and its parent company along with Mr. O’Reilly paid out a total of approximately $13 million to five different women who complained about sexual harassment and inappropriate behavior on the part of Mr. O’Reilly. Allegations O’Reilly continues to claim are, “completely unfounded.”

Despite O’Reilly’s protestations, he no longer has a job; it appears women emerged victorious in this instance. O’Reilly behaved inappropriately and he was kicked out of television because feminism is gaining support in the world at large.

Maybe.

Maybe that’s why but I highly doubt it. Let’s look at the past year and see what we can determine about the state of women’s rights and how seriously (or not) sexual harassment is taken by media conglomerates such as 21st Century Fox.

Last July, Fox News chairman Roger Ailes resigned after allegations of sexual harassment. In October, Billy Bush was suspended and then dismissed after a tape was released in which he was complicit in the aggressive degradation of women and admissions of sexual assault by Donald Trump. Now, Bill O’Reilly has been banished from the Fox News island for similar allegations of harassment.

Regardless of where women stand in Congress, 19.4 percent of its members, or in the Senate, 21 percent of its members, or in Fortune 500 companies, 5.8 percent of CEOs, there is one area in which women are the dominant demographic: marketing.

Women are powerful consumers in nearly all markets. Even when women are not making the most money, they are often the ones responsible for purchasing items or influencing items to be purchased. When it comes to advertising and marketing, women have more power than men. So, when Roger Ailes was accused of sexual harassment against women, advertisers bailed from Fox. When Bill O’Reilly was discovered to have paid about $13 million to five women for sexual harassment, advertisers bailed from his show. When Billy Bush laughed along with statements made by Donald Trump, women tuned out and took advertisers with them. This is the power of capitalism and it is a power that can easily be misinterpreted as a much-needed shift in views regarding sexual harassment and women’s rights.

But that’s all it is, a misinterpretation.

Five women were paid a total of approximately $13 million and were asked to walk away. Bill O’Reilly was paid $25 million to walk away. Strange how the perpetrator’s check was nearly twice the victims’ overall payout. Strange how the world thinks money is enough to make us forget what we are.

I don’t think there’s an amount of money that could make me forget the things that have happened to me. I know there’s no amount of money that could make me forget what it’s like to be helpless, to know what that is and never be able to feel safe again. I don’t even think there’s a limit on what I would pay to have never lived through the things I have.

But my story didn’t involve a man with a television show. There were no advertisers to withdraw support from my rapist. So, while a woman with a story is a formidable opponent against someone like Roger Ailes, or Bill O’Reilly, or Billy Bush, in most circumstances, there is no financial incentive to condemn sexual harassment. And without that incentive, women remain powerless against men like Donald Trump.

The post Sherman: Bill O’Reilly’s departure is not a victory for women appeared first on Emerald Media.

Dear Trump supporters,

I didn’t vote for Trump. I am for abortion rights and pro-socialized medicine. I think welfare programs are for the betterment of society, and I hug trees if left outside for too long. I also don’t think you’re an idiot, a racist or a misogynist because you vote differently than I do.

While the Affordable Care Act repeal bill was set to go to the floor for a vote, I was on a plane. For three hours, I wasn’t connected to the news or social media and didn’t have to feel like a democrat or a republican. 

Then we landed.

Within minutes, the cabin was abuzz with the vote’s cancellation and the “failure” of the republicans from some seats and the “stupidity” of the democrats from other rows. I smiled just a bit. I had to. Regardless of political leanings, it was a relief to see my fellow Americans engaged in the conversation.

I’m old enough to have voted in the 2008 election, and I can’t remember a time when people have been as involved in the goings on in Washington D.C. as they are now. The top trends on Facebook are political. The hashtags trending on Twitter are current news stories. For better or worse, we are paying attention to what’s happening in our country and what today’s choices might mean for the future. There’s a conversation taking place. Unfortunately, it’s not a particularly polite conversation.

That’s why I want to direct my words to those who voted for and/or still support Donald Trump. I disagree with some of your political views. That’s it. That’s all. Why is that disagreement cause for partisan votes that leave our government gridlocked? You think one thing and I think another. And even in that, we agree on more issues than those in congress seem capable of admitting. I support the troops, value the Constitution, support the Second Amendment – as well as background checks, restrictions for domestic abusers and the mentally ill, and an electronic database – and am in favor of religious freedom. But the conversation doesn’t end there.

I support responsible government spending, and I worry that we currently have an administration spending half-a-million dollars a day in order for the first lady to stay in NYC. I support the troops, and I am concerned that at a time when the greatest threat to national security is global warming, we have an administration that cuts funding to the EPA and a president who said global warming was a hoax. I support bringing jobs back to the Midwest and rural areas across the country, and it concerns me that the hostility toward Mexico may result in trade restrictions that will primarily impact the midwestern states.

I don’t agree with you, but I am listening. I’m not convinced I’m right and you’re wrong. I’m not blindly aligning myself with blue or red (sidebar: I’m colorblind so that’s rather difficult for me anyway). Consider this an olive branch or a cold cider. (Seriously, what does an olive branch even look like and why is that still the go-to peace offering? Cider, folks.) This is me offering a cold cider and asking if we can continue this conversation over a drink.

As the flight began to offload in Boston – a city so ripe with history that a cup dipped in the harbor is best served with milk and sugar – I heard people debate the merits of the bill with those beside them. I heard people question what will happen with their premiums and what the future of healthcare in the U.S. may look like. This conversation is happening, and I need your opinions just as much as I need my own.

Sincerely,

M. Esther Sherman

The post Sherman: An open letter to Trump supporters appeared first on Emerald Media.

At 16, I found myself at a fire department in Kidderminster, England, with a friend of mine. The firefighters took us for a ride in the truck, let us use the Jaws of Life, hold the hose and wear their turnouts. I guess that’s what happens when two 16-year-old girls show up in miniskirts and lip gloss (the age of adulthood is 15 in the UK). Afterward, I told my friend’s mom that she “wore the cute fireman’s pants.” Bright red and mortified, my friend screamed, “Trousers! The American means trousers!” Apparently, pants means underwear to the British. 

Words matter. Unfortunately, when words mutate in the modern world the effects are rarely limited to a comedic gaffe. Rather, the evolution often follows this pattern: label the enemy, invest in fear, subtract freedom, increase power. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

In 1999, Moscow was ravaged by a series of bombings that were promptly blamed on the Chechens. Though many have speculated these bombings were actually carried out by the FSB (formerly the KGB), it has never been proven who was behind the attacks. So we can speculate about corruption on the part of the Kremlin but when a country is controlled by a handful of billionaires and notable thugs, investigative journalism is a life or death game, and no one has lived long enough to dig to the bottom of that conspiracy.

Russian television labeled it the “Chechens” and war began – a war that enabled a young Vladimir Putin to claim power under the guise of protecting the people from the enemy, the Chechens. Soon, the label morphed to “Chechen Extremists” in order to pacify those parts of the population who might be sympathetic to Chechens in general. And then, as tends to happen when words evolve, Chechen became synonymous with terrorists. In the eyes of the Kremlin (and out the lips of the state-sponsored Russian television) Chechens were terrorists. Period.

But that was almost 20 years ago, right?

Currently, Turkey has more journalists behind bars than any other country in the world. Since the attempted coup last July, Turkey has shut down more than 130 media outlets on the basis of supporting terrorism and there are presently more than 150 journalists behind bars. Journalists used their freedom to spread ideas that were unpopular within the government. Media outlets were able to destabilize the government by dissemination of information. This made truth, news and those who brought it into the public light the enemies of the state. Or, to put it in more analogous terms, a crisis occurred and the government seized the opportunity to strip away individual rights and lock up those with whom it did not agree.

Journalists became activists. Activists became accomplices. Accomplices became terrorists. Another mutation of words in the era of fake news.

But that’s halfway around the world, right?

Donald Trump has referred to Muslims as dangerous and said he would implement an entire shutdown of Muslims entering the United States. He has progressed to using the label of Muslim Extremists and even begun to use the word Muslim synonymously with terrorist. But his mimicry of ’90s Putin isn’t the end of his wordplay. He has moved against the media and journalists with a ferocity not witnessed in prior administrations. He’s labeled stories he doesn’t like and networks he doesn’t like as “fake news” with the intention of undermining credibility. He’s accused journalists of undermining the authority of the White House and he has flat-out called the media the enemy of the people.

But those are just words, right?

At the University of Oregon, we have a diverse group of students, faculty and employees from all over the world. My daughter’s favorite playmate is from Pakistan and her mother is here on a student visa. My next-door neighbors are from India and our closest friends in the complex were on a visa from South Korea. Each of us wears a label of some sort and each of us represents a word at risk. Now, it is a mutation of the Muslim label and a distortion of truth. Now, it is journalists being arrested for documenting protests and it is news organizations being shut out of White House gaggles. Now, it is lies under oath and dismissals of those who might investigate. Now, we are still in the stage where the enemy is given a name. Soon, the rights we value will be handed over under the guise of protecting us from that enemy.

But it’s just four years, right?

The post Sherman: The dangerous words of Donald Trump and Vladimir Putin appeared first on Emerald Media.

The fog from the ocean slipped over the icy roads, making the morning light whimsical, if not somewhat creepy. The man beside me was clearly the quiet type, hardened by manual labor and softened by the love of his wife of more than 40 years.

“You know, every time I see those refugees on TV, they don’t look like they’re starving,” he stated in the voice of a man who spends all his time with chickens.

The sun had begun to crest the hills behind us and the colors overtook the gray fog, turning the river and valley into something resembling a Kinkade painting. I turned my head toward the man and opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I wanted to say something along the lines of, “Are you freaking kidding me?” but I felt my jaw fall and then lift itself back into place, the line of my lips flat and stagnant.

The case law around First Amendment rights is ever evolving and I hear something stupid every day which confirms it is still in effect. Despite the movements of the Trump administration, the restrictions placed upon the media and the label of “fake news,” we are still free to speak. For now. In some places.

While the White House spent the week amidst controversy for banning CNN, The New York Times and other news outlets from a press gaggle, the University of Oregon made the list of ten worst schools for free speech. For many on campus, the immediate response sounded something like, “Us? Never!” or “We are a liberal bastion of openness and we are all free here!”

But some nodded in understanding after the lengthy (and ongoing) ‘Shurtz Debacle,’ when a UO professor allegedly wore blackface to a Halloween party. I understand my use of the word “allegedly” throws me on thin ice with most readers, so let me clarify a few facts regarding this incident:

1) Professor Shurtz dressed as the cover of a book she wished to draw attention to, “Black Man in a White Coat,” in the hope of starting a discussion about race in higher education
2) the administration used the word “blackface” in their student-wide email which incensed (rightly so) the student population
3) historically, blackface was a term reserved for those who deliberately dressed as African Americans for the sake of degradation or mockery; something that even the UO report acknowledges Professor Shurtz did not do
4) the Black community at UO has every right to be hurt, angry and feel any way about this situation that they darn well please.

When I talk about free speech, I extend this wholeheartedly to those who have felt oppression and isolation in ways I never have (as well as to those who haven’t). As a Jew, I do have some understanding of oppression and racial hatred but I don’t understand how this incident made the Black community feel — and neither does anyone else who decided to be enraged on behalf of the Black community. That is the point where I feel lasting damage occurred, because the result of that surrogate rage led to an enforcement of a “harassment” ban that amounts to what the Washington Post referred to as “attempts to suppress the expression of speech that is perceived as expressing certain political, social and religious viewpoints.”

The UO community at large does not get to claim “understanding” on this issue. I can’t understand it. Professor Shurtz, poor judgment admitted, didn’t understand the way she would impact her students and this community. But that very lack of understanding is precisely why we needed to take the time to hear her, the time to say we will allow you to speak and be given an opportunity to speak in return.

One of the most poignant posts I saw this week on social media came from Pete Souza, a former White House photographer for both Reagan and Obama. Souza posted a picture of then President Obama outside a press conference and listed the news outlets present (those banned by Trump), and then added in a parenthetical, “as well as Fox news.” We only get to claim the high ground on free speech when we are willing to extend the First Amendment to speech that may offend, or enrage or disgust us. Like the sort of thing you might hear when an older, white farmer is kind enough to give you a ride.

I did eventually find my words and respond to his comment about refugees, but it wasn’t to tell him he was wrong or to list all the things I found abhorrent about his view. I simply asked him to tell me more about what he thought and why. Why would he ever listen to my views if I was unwilling to first listen to his?

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