newyorker--2020-11-16--How a Long Island County Fought COVID-19

“ Doc , ” I said .
“ How worried should we be about this novel coronavirus in China ?
” “ I ’ ll be honest with you , ” he said .
“ I ’ ve never heard my contacts at the C.D.C .
sound so concerned , and they ’ ve been through SARS , MERS , H1N1.
” He paused .
“ That tells me they think it could have a significant global impact.
” In my office , I started thinking about how we could prepare .
Nassau County , where I was elected the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ home to more than 1.3 million people .
It covers four hundred and fifty square miles , stretching from the Gatsbyesque mansions on the north shore of Long Island to the middle-class neighborhoods of the south shore .
Although it is mostly affluent , there are pockets of poverty and vulnerability .
People who live in New York City often picture Nassau as a montage of beaches , porch swings , and shopping malls .
My perspective is different : the government I run has a $ 3.3-billion budget and encompasses fifty-six independent @ @ @ @ @ @ @ cities , towns , villages , and hamlets .
The county is more populous than Boston and Atlanta combined .
One way we plan for catastrophes is by running tabletop exercises : department heads and regional partners meet in a classroom-type setting to walk through what they ’ ll do in case of a monster storm or a school shooting .
I called Tatum Fox , my deputy for public safety , and asked her to organize such an exercise for the coronavirus .
We settled on what we thought was an aggressive @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ t know that , by then , the time for exercises would have passed , and we ’ d be fighting the coronavirus for real .
Months later , during the summer , Nassau County would progress through the stages of its reopening .
As the fall began , we would be diagnosing between twenty and forty new coronavirus cases per day , or about one case per forty-five thousand residents—a rate of viral spread low enough for us to start school and move toward a more complete reopening of our economy @ @ @ @ @ @ @ as prepared as possible for the growing winter surge ; we ’ re eyeing our numbers , which so far have ticked upward only modestly , with a full range of protocols and public-health options in place .
But learning how to fight the virus hasn ’ t been easy .
Before the pandemic , our county government was focussed on what we thought were big goals : revitalizing downtowns , fixing budget problems , building a new stadium for the Islanders .
Suddenly , we were on conference calls planning the purchase @ @ @ @ @ @ @ refrigerator trucks as temporary morgues .
Along with other elected officials around the country , I found myself at the center of a kind of crisis I ’ d never experienced .
In the beginning , it was like a dark storm , the sort you can hear even before you see the clouds roll in .
Eventually , the clouds were all we could see .
In such a crisis , every decision you make affects your constituents ’ s lives and livelihoods .
You do your best to balance it all @ @ @ @ @ @ @ examine the numbers and the models , and seek the best advice .
But the virus moved with overwhelming speed .
New York City became the worldwide center of the virus , and so it was bad in Nassau , too ; our numbers were the highest outside of New York City .
Since March , 52,897 Nassau County residents have tested positive for the virus , and 2,226 have died .
In the early days , I ’ d catch myself thinking , Is this a dream ?
Over the course of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to flatten its curve ; we hope to keep it flat through the winter .
But the virus is still circulating around the country , and , until scientists strike a definitive blow against it , with a vaccine or other treatments , all progress is provisional .
Meanwhile , we are grappling with economic distress on an unprecedented scale .
We need help for our businesses and citizens , many of whom have been thrown out of work .
Our county government needs money for such basic public functions as safety , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ parks , but we also need money to continue fighting the virus : to fund more testing and contact tracing , and to maintain our ramped-up public-health infrastructure .
We ’ re building a dam , and the water is rising on the other side .
On February 25th , Dr. Larry came by my office , where I was meeting with my top aides , Helena Williams and Mike Santeramo , discussing the county ’ s upcoming infrastructure projects .
His expression told me that I should close the door .
“ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” he said .
A teacher had returned from a winter break trip to Italy and developed a fever and cough ; she ’ d tested negative for the flu .
She worked at Elmont Memorial High School , where , the following week , I was planning to give my state-of-the-county speech .
A few days before that , I was supposed to meet with journalists at the school , for a “ pre-speech on site.
” Without explaining why , I postponed it , in case the teacher ’ s test @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to shut down .
But it , too , came back negative .
It wasn ’ t until March 5th that we got our first confirmed case , and its details couldn ’ t have been more alarming .
A forty-two-year-old man from Uniondale , who worked at a local hospital and had a side job driving people to the airport , came down with a fever and cough ; his doctor decided to give him a COVID-19 test .
Our health department ’ s team of disease investigators got rolling .
When @ @ @ @ @ @ @ did he get there ?
Who lived with him ?
Had he been to any gatherings ?
Investigators discovered that he hadn ’ t travelled .
This was unnerving news : it meant that the coronavirus was already spreading in the community , circulating unchecked .
It ’ s striking , after months of social distancing , to look back on my schedule then .
Just a few days before , on March 2nd , I had travelled to Washington , D.C. , to attend a of couple conventions ; at one , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ sat with hundreds of other county officials in the ballroom of the Washington Hilton , while President Donald Trump briefed us on the coronavirus .
( He spoke frankly and seemed to grasp that it was a serious issue .
County governments would have an important role to play , he said , because they know so much about their residents . )
My schedule on March 11th was similarly packed : after meeting with reporters from “ Good Day New York , ” for a live sunrise segment about the coronavirus , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , in Lake Success , to see their new virus-testing equipment , I stopped by the St. Patrick ’ s Day luncheon hosted by the local Kiwanis club , at the Garden City Hotel .
When I walked through the double doors and into the ballroom , the event looked pretty much like it had every year .
I wove through the tables , where everyone sat wearing green ties and sweaters ; I said hello to the people I knew and introduced myself to those I didn ’ t .
Instead of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ elbow to bump—a wise move , I thought , given the viral threat .
Still , I couldn ’ t imagine the scale of what was coming .
I didn ’ t know that the luncheon would be my last non-coronavirus work commitment for months to come .
That afternoon , I met with Dr. Larry at a school administration building , in Garden City , for a conference with the superintendents of the county ’ s school districts .
Sitting at the head of a boomerang-shaped table , I scanned the superintendents @ @ @ @ @ @ @ expression from worried to very worried .
Since the first confirmed case , more had been found , including some in the schools .
Two bus drivers had tested positive .
Some districts , having discovered cases among teachers and staff , had closed individual schools ; an entire district shut down for a week , after it found that all of its schools might have been exposed , through a teacher with school-aged kids .
The Nassau County government doesn ’ t control the schools—each district sets its own policies .
Still @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to me for guidance .
I told them that I would support any decisions they made , including shutting down .
“ You know your schools and your communities better than anyone , ” I said .
“ But I am following the C.D.C .
protocols for flu pandemic.
” I explained that , according to those protocols , closing schools is the last thing that a district should do in a flu-type pandemic : it ’ s easier to contain the virus when kids are in class , instead of hanging out @ @ @ @ @ @ @ grandparents .
Many children rely on schools for lunch , and many health-care workers and first responders depend on them for child care .
By this logic , closing schools was a step to take only when viral cases were skyrocketing .
In fact , we were already reaching that point .
One morning , by the lockers at the gym , I took a phone call from Dr. Larry .
He ’ d just been on a conference call with other regional health officials and learned that the New York City department @ @ @ @ @ @ @ was only testing patients who were hospitalized .
That meant that , because the coronavirus is so often asymptomatic , most infected people in the city were going untested , and their contacts were going untraced .
In Nassau , we were ramping up our test-and-trace operations .
Dozens of staffers from our health department , along with civilian members of the county police department , were being quickly retrained as contact tracers—putting their regular duties , such as clerical work , on hold .
But our border with Queens is more than @ @ @ @ @ @ @ residents commute to the city .
I could hear the frustration in Dr. Larry ’ s voice .
So many of the precautions we were taking wouldn ’ t really matter ; with the virus spreading unchecked next door , all the work we ’ d been doing could be quickly undone .
( Since then , New York City ’ s test-and-trace operation has expanded substantially . )
On Friday , March 13th—two days after my meeting with the school superintendents—I learned that declaring a state of emergency would allow me to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ it was the best option .
On Saturday I took my phone outside—I try not to be on the phone too much when I ’ m around my family—and sat on my porch swing , my jacket zipped up against the cold , and spoke with Dr. Larry , school leaders , and Governor Andrew Cuomo about how the school closures would work .
I announced them the following day , at a press conference .
A few hours later , at his own press conference , Governor Cuomo announced that he would @ @ @ @ @

In late January, I was filling my bottle at the office water cooler when Lawrence Eisenstein, our county’s health commissioner, sidled up to fill his own. Everyone in the office calls Lawrence “Dr. Larry.” After medical school, he trained as an internist specializing in infectious diseases; afterward, he treated H.I.V. patients on Long Island. He became the county health commissioner in 2011. Three years later, when a man in New York City was diagnosed with Ebola, Dr. Larry made sure that our county, which is situated just east of Queens, had the right isolation and quarantine procedures in place. Even in normal times, he carries a tiny bottle of hand sanitizer in his jacket pocket.
“Doc,” I said. “How worried should we be about this novel coronavirus in China?”
“I’ll be honest with you,” he said. “I’ve never heard my contacts at the C.D.C. sound so concerned, and they’ve been through SARS, MERS, H1N1.” He paused. “That tells me they think it could have a significant global impact.”
In my office, I started thinking about how we could prepare. Nassau County, where I was elected the county executive, in 2017, is home to more than 1.3 million people. It covers four hundred and fifty square miles, stretching from the Gatsbyesque mansions on the north shore of Long Island to the middle-class neighborhoods of the south shore. Although it is mostly affluent, there are pockets of poverty and vulnerability. People who live in New York City often picture Nassau as a montage of beaches, porch swings, and shopping malls. My perspective is different: the government I run has a $3.3-billion budget and encompasses fifty-six independent school districts and a complex patchwork of cities, towns, villages, and hamlets. The county is more populous than Boston and Atlanta combined.
One way we plan for catastrophes is by running tabletop exercises: department heads and regional partners meet in a classroom-type setting to walk through what they’ll do in case of a monster storm or a school shooting. I called Tatum Fox, my deputy for public safety, and asked her to organize such an exercise for the coronavirus. We settled on what we thought was an aggressive date: March 23rd. We didn’t know that, by then, the time for exercises would have passed, and we’d be fighting the coronavirus for real.
Months later, during the summer, Nassau County would progress through the stages of its reopening. As the fall began, we would be diagnosing between twenty and forty new coronavirus cases per day, or about one case per forty-five thousand residents—a rate of viral spread low enough for us to start school and move toward a more complete reopening of our economy. Today, we think we are as prepared as possible for the growing winter surge; we’re eyeing our numbers, which so far have ticked upward only modestly, with a full range of protocols and public-health options in place. But learning how to fight the virus hasn’t been easy. Before the pandemic, our county government was focussed on what we thought were big goals: revitalizing downtowns, fixing budget problems, building a new stadium for the Islanders. Suddenly, we were on conference calls planning the purchase of body bags and the leasing of refrigerator trucks as temporary morgues.
Along with other elected officials around the country, I found myself at the center of a kind of crisis I’d never experienced. In the beginning, it was like a dark storm, the sort you can hear even before you see the clouds roll in. Eventually, the clouds were all we could see. In such a crisis, every decision you make affects your constituents’s lives and livelihoods. You do your best to balance it all: you talk to the experts, examine the numbers and the models, and seek the best advice. But the virus moved with overwhelming speed. New York City became the worldwide center of the virus, and so it was bad in Nassau, too; our numbers were the highest outside of New York City. Since March, 52,897 Nassau County residents have tested positive for the virus, and 2,226 have died. In the early days, I’d catch myself thinking, Is this a dream?
Over the course of the spring and summer, Nassau managed to flatten its curve; we hope to keep it flat through the winter. But the virus is still circulating around the country, and, until scientists strike a definitive blow against it, with a vaccine or other treatments, all progress is provisional. Meanwhile, we are grappling with economic distress on an unprecedented scale. We need help for our businesses and citizens, many of whom have been thrown out of work. Our county government needs money for such basic public functions as safety, transportation, paving roads, and maintaining parks, but we also need money to continue fighting the virus: to fund more testing and contact tracing, and to maintain our ramped-up public-health infrastructure. We’re building a dam, and the water is rising on the other side.
The coronavirus seemed to arrive in slow motion. In February, a month after our water-cooler conversation, Dr. Larry and the health department began monitoring two hundred and fifty people for signs of the virus. Most of them were travellers from China who had been identified by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, which was relaying news of incoming travellers to local governments. As soon as they landed, we contacted them, so that we could place them in quarantine and test them if they developed symptoms. At the time, our health department employed only six disease investigators, to respond to illnesses such as hepatitis and E. coli. The C.D.C. hadn’t yet given local labs approval to process coronavirus tests, and so we had to send our test kits to its lab, in Atlanta. A hundred and sixty of the people we had contacted agreed to isolate themselves while we waited for the results. None of the tests came back positive.
On February 25th, Dr. Larry came by my office, where I was meeting with my top aides, Helena Williams and Mike Santeramo, discussing the county’s upcoming infrastructure projects. His expression told me that I should close the door.
“We may have a positive case,” he said. A teacher had returned from a winter break trip to Italy and developed a fever and cough; she’d tested negative for the flu. She worked at Elmont Memorial High School, where, the following week, I was planning to give my state-of-the-county speech. A few days before that, I was supposed to meet with journalists at the school, for a “pre-speech on site.” Without explaining why, I postponed it, in case the teacher’s test came back positive and the school had to shut down. But it, too, came back negative.
It wasn’t until March 5th that we got our first confirmed case, and its details couldn’t have been more alarming. A forty-two-year-old man from Uniondale, who worked at a local hospital and had a side job driving people to the airport, came down with a fever and cough; his doctor decided to give him a COVID-19 test. Our health department’s team of disease investigators got rolling. When was he last at work? How did he get there? Who lived with him? Had he been to any gatherings? Investigators discovered that he hadn’t travelled. This was unnerving news: it meant that the coronavirus was already spreading in the community, circulating unchecked.
It’s striking, after months of social distancing, to look back on my schedule then. Just a few days before, on March 2nd, I had travelled to Washington, D.C., to attend a of couple conventions; at one, the National Association of Counties, I sat with hundreds of other county officials in the ballroom of the Washington Hilton, while President Donald Trump briefed us on the coronavirus. (He spoke frankly and seemed to grasp that it was a serious issue. County governments would have an important role to play, he said, because they know so much about their residents.) My schedule on March 11th was similarly packed: after meeting with reporters from “Good Day New York,” for a live sunrise segment about the coronavirus, and visiting Northwell Health’s labs, in Lake Success, to see their new virus-testing equipment, I stopped by the St. Patrick’s Day luncheon hosted by the local Kiwanis club, at the Garden City Hotel. When I walked through the double doors and into the ballroom, the event looked pretty much like it had every year. I wove through the tables, where everyone sat wearing green ties and sweaters; I said hello to the people I knew and introduced myself to those I didn’t. Instead of shaking hands, I stuck out my elbow to bump—a wise move, I thought, given the viral threat. Still, I couldn’t imagine the scale of what was coming. I didn’t know that the luncheon would be my last non-coronavirus work commitment for months to come.
That afternoon, I met with Dr. Larry at a school administration building, in Garden City, for a conference with the superintendents of the county’s school districts. Sitting at the head of a boomerang-shaped table, I scanned the superintendents’s faces, which ranged in expression from worried to very worried. Since the first confirmed case, more had been found, including some in the schools. Two bus drivers had tested positive. Some districts, having discovered cases among teachers and staff, had closed individual schools; an entire district shut down for a week, after it found that all of its schools might have been exposed, through a teacher with school-aged kids.
The Nassau County government doesn’t control the schools—each district sets its own policies. Still, the superintendents seemed to be looking to me for guidance. I told them that I would support any decisions they made, including shutting down. “You know your schools and your communities better than anyone,” I said. “But I am following the C.D.C. protocols for flu pandemic.” I explained that, according to those protocols, closing schools is the last thing that a district should do in a flu-type pandemic: it’s easier to contain the virus when kids are in class, instead of hanging out with friends or being watched by their grandparents. Many children rely on schools for lunch, and many health-care workers and first responders depend on them for child care. By this logic, closing schools was a step to take only when viral cases were skyrocketing.


newyorker--2020-11-16--First Lines of Rejected “Modern Love” Essays

My husband and I don ’ t text , we don ’ t talk , we don ’ t live together , I don ’ t know where he lives ( I have my guesses ) , and we ’ ve never been more in modern love .
The vows wrote themselves , pouring from my ballpoint pen like milk being poured from a gallon of milk .
At the top of Machu Picchu , as the woman I would one day call my wife vomited up the engagement ring I ’ d hidden in her Nalgene , I caught @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
I asked Sally to watch “ When Harry Met Sally ” with me on our third date .
My name isn ’ t Harry—it ’ s Henry—but it would have been very cool if it were Harry .
It felt right when I swiped right , but when he left I wished that I had swiped in the other direction ( left ) .
The charcuterie board was covered with meats , cheeses , and a dog-eared letter from my late great-grandfather .
First , he stole my identity .
Then he @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Modern Love ” essay , I will argue that , although my ex cheated on me with my best friend , I share blame for the demise of our relationship , insofar as I could not successfully articulate my emotional wants , needs , and feelings in a concise , productive way during the relationship .
When I met Sally , I asked if she ’ d seen “ When Harry Met Sally.
” She had .
I hadn ’ t .
My name is Brian .
“ What is love ?
Baby @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ” Haddaway sang over the hospital loudspeakers as a baby named Haddaway hurt me during a scheduled C-section .
I ’ m Christian .
My husband is Jewish .
We ’ re getting a Buddhist divorce .
Of all the Etsy shops in all the towns in all the world , she bought used baby shoes from mine .
I called No .
54 at the D.M.V .
where I work .
The next day , No .
54 called my number .
Men always ask me to watch “ When Harry Met @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , but they ’ re never named Harry , so they ’ re not as clever as they think .
Everything on my wedding day was picture perfect—it ’ s how I knew that something was horribly wrong .
Love is like a box of chocolates , in that I like both of those things .
In rural Alabama , where coyotes holler and jug bands play , “ I love you ” s are rarer than routine medical care .
The dick pic looked familiar , as if I ’ d seen @ @ @ @ @ @ @ dawned on me that it was a picture of my own penis .
When you realize you don ’ t want to spend the rest of your life with somebody , you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible , Sally .
I didn ’ t know love until I gave birth and fell in modern love with the obstetrician .
♦

Modern Love is a weekly column, a book, a podcast—and now, in its 16th year, a television show—about relationships, feelings, betrayals and revelations. —The Times.
My husband and I don’t text, we don’t talk, we don’t live together, I don’t know where he lives (I have my guesses), and we’ve never been more in modern love.
The vows wrote themselves, pouring from my ballpoint pen like milk being poured from a gallon of milk.
At the top of Machu Picchu, as the woman I would one day call my wife vomited up the engagement ring I’d hidden in her Nalgene, I caught a glimpse of God’s plan.
I asked Sally to watch “When Harry Met Sally” with me on our third date. My name isn’t Harry—it’s Henry—but it would have been very cool if it were Harry.
It felt right when I swiped right, but when he left I wished that I had swiped in the other direction (left).
The charcuterie board was covered with meats, cheeses, and a dog-eared letter from my late great-grandfather.
First, he stole my identity. Then he stole my heart.
In this “Modern Love” essay, I will argue that, although my ex cheated on me with my best friend, I share blame for the demise of our relationship, insofar as I could not successfully articulate my emotional wants, needs, and feelings in a concise, productive way during the relationship.
When I met Sally, I asked if she’d seen “When Harry Met Sally.” She had. I hadn’t. My name is Brian.
“What is love? Baby, don’t hurt me,” Haddaway sang over the hospital loudspeakers as a baby named Haddaway hurt me during a scheduled C-section.
I’m Christian. My husband is Jewish. We’re getting a Buddhist divorce.
Of all the Etsy shops in all the towns in all the world, she bought used baby shoes from mine.
I called No. 54 at the D.M.V. where I work. The next day, No. 54 called my number.
Men always ask me to watch “When Harry Met Sally” because my name is Sally, but they’re never named Harry, so they’re not as clever as they think.
Everything on my wedding day was picture perfect—it’s how I knew that something was horribly wrong.
Love is like a box of chocolates, in that I like both of those things.
In rural Alabama, where coyotes holler and jug bands play, “I love you”s are rarer than routine medical care.
The dick pic looked familiar, as if I’d seen it in a dream; then it dawned on me that it was a picture of my own penis.
When you realize you don’t want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible, Sally.
I didn’t know love until I gave birth and fell in modern love with the obstetrician. ♦


newyorker--2020-11-16--How to Stop a Power Grab

How to Stop a Power Grab

Since 2011 , Chenoweth has overseen the expansion of the database , and published dozens of journal articles , book chapters , and monographs .
( Chenoweth and Stephan remain friends and occasional collaborators , but Stephan worked for several years at the United States Institute of Peace , a nonpartisan body founded by Congress , which limited what she could say in public . )
Many of Chenoweth ’ s articles are quantitative and technical , but the upshot is simple enough : civil-resistance movements prevail far more often than armed movements do ( about 1.95 times more often @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of the data ) .
This seems to hold true across decades and continents , in democracies and autocracies , against weak regimes and strong ones .
In September of 2000 , Slobodan Milosevic , who had been the dictator of Serbia for more than a decade , attempted to falsify election results in order to stay in power .
In response , a student-led movement called Otpor coördinated a variety of tactics—highway blockades , subversive street theatre , a coal miners ’ strike .
The resistance was widely perceived as nonviolent and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ gaining support among Serbs of every age and from all parts of the country .
A Serbian policeman , ordered to shoot into a crowd of protesters , held his fire ; he later told journalists that , given the cross-section of people present , he couldn ’ t rule out the possibility that one of them was his child .
By early October , Milosevic had no choice but to leave office .
The following year , he was brought to The Hague and tried for war crimes .
Ivan Marovic , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Otpor , told me that , when he recounts the story of the movement , people often argue that its success must have been a fluke .
He added , “ Now I can just show them Maria and Erica ’ s book and say , ‘ Don ’ t argue with me , argue with the numbers.
’ ” Henry and I were speaking , over Zoom , shortly before Election Day .
“ I ’ m talking to organizers about what they ’ ve got planned if Trump uses outright Fascist @ @ @ @ @ @ @ he said .
“ I hear a lot of ‘ We ’ ll stay in the streets until our demands are met !
’ To which I go , ‘ Yeah , getting in the streets is good , and it looks good on Instagram .
But it ’ s not magic , where you chant “ We don ’ t like this ” until the powers that be have a change of heart .
Who ’ s researching the real points of economic and social leverage ?
’ ” Henry leaned out @ @ @ @ @ @ @ When he came back into view , he was holding a short book , co-authored by Sharp , that he was in the process of rereading : “ The Anti-Coup.
” Sharp , who died in 2018 , was nominated several times for the Nobel Peace Prize , and he had a research appointment at Harvard , but his primary job was director of the Albert Einstein Institution , a small nonprofit that he ran out of his row house in East Boston .
A pamphlet-size précis of his findings , “ From @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in 1993 and circulated in Burma , Serbia , Egypt , and several other countries on the brink of revolution .
In 2011 , at the Occupy Wall Street encampment , in New York , activists set up a community kitchen , a library , and a media hub to disseminate live streams generated by the movement—all examples of what Sharp called “ alternative social institutions.
” If protests are expressions of what a movement is against , then alternative institutions can be manifestations of what a movement is for , a glimpse @ @ @ @ @ @ @ it has been transformed .
During the Egyptian Revolution , activists occupied Tahrir Square , in Cairo , staffing ad-hoc checkpoints and building a stage with a professional-grade sound system .
Musicians held concerts in the square , helping to sustain a festive atmosphere and attract a wide cross-section of visitors , some of whom became active in the struggle .
Chenoweth told me , “ If I had to pick one characteristic that correlates with a movement ’ s success , it ’ s the extent to which everyone in society—children , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ either actively or passively participate.
” While at the University of Oslo , in the nineteen-fifties , Sharp crossed paths with George Lakey , another American activist and student of nonviolence .
Lakey went on to work as a civil-rights organizer during the Freedom Summer Project of 1964 , as a blockade-runner during the Vietnam War , as an environmental organizer fighting mountaintop removal , and , in 2020 , as a democracy activist advising Americans on how to forestall a potential coup .
In the two-thousands , Lakey taught at Swarthmore , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Global Nonviolent Action Database , a list of activist campaigns throughout history .
“ Sharp ’ s oldest example , in ‘ The Politics of Nonviolent Action , ’ was the plebeian uprising in ancient Rome , 494 B.C.E.
, ” Lakey told me .
“ Imagine how thrilled one of my grad students was when he found one that was centuries older ” —a strike among Egyptian laborers building a tomb for Ramesses III , in 1170 B.C.E .
Throughout history there have been wars , and , at least since Herodotus @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Likewise , Lakey pointed out , “ nonviolent struggle has always been with us , but for a long time , as a species , we ’ ve been blind to it.
” Some American historians argue that the Revolutionary War was only the violent culmination of a longer and more consequential nonviolent struggle .
“ What do we mean by the revolution ?
” John Adams wrote to Thomas Jefferson in 1815 .
“ The war ?
That was no part of the revolution ; it was only an effect and a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to refer to a period of “ fifteen years , before a drop of blood was shed at Lexington , ” during which the colonists boycotted British goods , destroyed British property , distributed illegal pamphlets , and set up alternative institutions such as the Constitutional Convention .
“ Civil resistance repeatedly shows up in undemocratic moments and contexts , ” Romanow , of Momentum , told me .
“ It ’ s not a coincidence that Black Americans have led when it came to bringing civil-resistance tactics into American organizing , because @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a democracy for four hundred years.
” Romanow and I were speaking in late October .
“ Many people now rightly think that , if things go off the rails during or after this election , the institutions alone might not necessarily save us , ” she continued .
“ Once you realize that , you can go pretty quickly from despair to exhilaration : the institutions can ’ t save us , but maybe we can save ourselves.
” The first version of the NAVCO data set , now known as NAVCO @ @ @ @ @ @ @ s words , “ chunky data.
” Subsequent iterations have yielded more granular findings .
For example , when a civil-resistance campaign does succeed in overthrowing an oppressive government , the new government it installs is far more likely to remain stable and democratic .
The data also yielded a pattern so simple and catchy that Chenoweth revealed it , in 2013 , in the form of a TED talk—the 3.5 Percent Rule , which states that in every case where a mass-resistance campaign has attracted the “ active and sustained participation ” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ per cent of the country ’ s population , the campaign has achieved its goal .
The 3.5 Percent Rule is meant to be descriptive , not predictive , a caveat that Chenoweth often repeats but that activists do not always hear .
Since the talk , Chenoweth has become aware of two campaigns , in Brunei and Bahrain , that failed despite engaging more than three and a half per cent of the country ’ s population .
Although civil-resistance campaigns in the past decade have continued to succeed more often than @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of all maximalist campaigns is dropping , as regimes become more proficient at surveilling and subduing rebellions .
“ I really blame the Internet , ” Chenoweth said recently on a podcast .
Although the Internet is good at “ getting people to the streets quickly , in large numbers , ” its costs to movements may outweigh its benefits .
Also , momentum can be difficult to sustain without the more painstaking work of person-to-person organizing .
One of Chenoweth ’ s side projects , the Crowd Counting Consortium , attempts to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , the depth and breadth of the American protest movement , including both anti-Trump and pro-Trump demonstrations .
Without such a count , if the anti-Trump resistance did reach the three-and-a-half-per-cent threshold—about eleven and a half million people—how would anyone know ?
The project is a collaboration between Chenoweth ; Jeremy Pressman , a political scientist at the University of Connecticut ; and a rotating crew of volunteers who verify reports of protests , in the press or on social media , and convert them into raw data .
One of the most @ @ @ @ @ @ @ scholar of African politics at the Kennedy School , who happens to be Chenoweth ’ s partner .
“ A lot of our date nights involve spreadsheets , ” Chenoweth told me , a bit bashfully .
According to the Crowd Counting data , 97.7 per cent of Black Lives Matter protests this past summer were free of violence , with no injuries reported by protesters , police , or bystanders .
“ These figures should correct the narrative that the protests were overtaken by rioting , ” Chenoweth and Pressman wrote in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ course , in a world that includes social media and Rupert Murdoch , the narrative that should prevail is not always the narrative that does .
At pivotal moments , such as after a police shooting or during an attempted authoritarian power grab , organizers may find themselves facing a paradox .
If nobody mobilizes in response to egregious abuses by the state , the abuses may appear to go unanswered .
If people do mobilize , and if a tiny minority of protesters initiate violence , then that violence can be used @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the movement as illegitimate , making it more likely to lose .
There is no consensus , either among academics or among activists , on what constitutes violence—some disavow property damage , others argue that a few smashed windows can sometimes help the cause .
Under normal circumstances , an image of a protester throwing a rock could go viral , prompting a negative press cycle .
In a volatile post-election moment , a single violent incident might give a flailing autocrat a pretext to ramp up repression by police , or even @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the 2020 election , as armed militias , white nationalists , and other Trump supporters planned a march in Washington , D.C. , Lakey ’ s group , Choose Democracy , wrote an e-mail to its network of volunteers .
“ We don ’ t believe this is the moment for activation in the streets , ” it read .
“ Let ’ s keep breathing , staying attentive , and be ready for action if things escalate.
” NAVCO 1.0 counted three hundred and twenty-three maximalist campaigns that occurred up to 2006 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ since then , and now comprises six hundred and twenty-seven examples—including , for the first time , an American campaign .
In the prepublication copy of “ Civil Resistance : What Everyone Needs to Know ” that I received in October , the campaigns were laid out chronologically in a table at the back of the book .
Appearing shortly after “ Anti-Gnassingbé , ” a campaign in Togo , and shortly before the “ Yellow Vests , ” a movement in France , was the “ Anti-Trump resistance.
” Under “ Primary @ @ @ @ @ @ @ nonviolent .
Under “ Outcome , ” instead of “ success ” or “ failure , ” was the word “ ongoing.
” In late May , a video of Derek Chauvin kneeling on George Floyd ’ s neck set off a wave of protests around the country .
On June 1st , near the White House , federal agents pepper-sprayed peaceful protesters , clearing the way for President Trump to pose for a photo op ; a few weeks later , federal agents drove through Portland , Oregon , in unmarked vans @ @ @ @ @ @ @ warning .
It seemed that the slide toward autocracy was rapidly accelerating .
Merriman , who lives in a suburb of Washington , D.C. , expressed his concerns to Romanow , who introduced him to three activists who specialize in digital organizing : Ankur Asthana , in Hoboken , New Jersey ; Marium Navid , in Los Angeles ; and Kifah Shah , in New York City .
“ Hardy has been immersed in civil-resistance theory for years , ” Shah said .
“ Marium , Ankur , and I know how to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ train them on how to use it.
” The four activists met on Zoom throughout July and August , whenever all of them could spare time from their day jobs .
By the end of August , they had put together a fifty-five-page document called “ Hold the Line : A Guide to Defending Democracy.
” The guide established a few “ red lines ” ( “ Trump may declare victory even if the election day results are ambiguous ” ) and proposed some collective responses in the event that those lines were @ @ @ @ @ @ @ as calling elected officials to ask that they respect the democratic process , and Sharpian methods , such as boycotts and civil disobedience .
One section , written primarily by Merriman , was a crash course in the consent theory of power which cited several experts in the field , including Chenoweth and Stephan .
The rest of the guide was studded with worksheets and sample meeting agendas .
( The title page included a disclaimer : “ The views expressed here are solely personal to the authors and do not represent the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ October , the organizers began hosting Zoom trainings , encouraging volunteers to form local Hold the Line groups .
By the end of the month , each session was attracting hundreds of people .

During the Egyptian Revolution, activists occupied Tahrir Square, in Cairo, staffing ad-hoc checkpoints and building a stage with a professional-grade sound system. Musicians held concerts in the square, helping to sustain a festive atmosphere and attract a wide cross-section of visitors, some of whom became active in the struggle. Chenoweth told me, “If I had to pick one characteristic that correlates with a movement’s success, it’s the extent to which everyone in society—children, disabled people, grandmas—feels that they can either actively or passively participate.”
“Babyproof this table!” Cartoon by Zachary Kanin Copy link to cartoon Copy link to cartoon Shop Shop
While at the University of Oslo, in the nineteen-fifties, Sharp crossed paths with George Lakey, another American activist and student of nonviolence. Lakey went on to work as a civil-rights organizer during the Freedom Summer Project of 1964, as a blockade-runner during the Vietnam War, as an environmental organizer fighting mountaintop removal, and, in 2020, as a democracy activist advising Americans on how to forestall a potential coup. In the two-thousands, Lakey taught at Swarthmore, where he and several students started the Global Nonviolent Action Database, a list of activist campaigns throughout history. “Sharp’s oldest example, in ‘The Politics of Nonviolent Action,’ was the plebeian uprising in ancient Rome, 494 B.C.E.,” Lakey told me. “Imagine how thrilled one of my grad students was when he found one that was centuries older”—a strike among Egyptian laborers building a tomb for Ramesses III, in 1170 B.C.E. Throughout history there have been wars, and, at least since Herodotus, there have been military historians. Likewise, Lakey pointed out, “nonviolent struggle has always been with us, but for a long time, as a species, we’ve been blind to it.”
Some American historians argue that the Revolutionary War was only the violent culmination of a longer and more consequential nonviolent struggle. “What do we mean by the revolution?” John Adams wrote to Thomas Jefferson in 1815. “The war? That was no part of the revolution; it was only an effect and a consequence of it.” Adams went on to refer to a period of “fifteen years, before a drop of blood was shed at Lexington,” during which the colonists boycotted British goods, destroyed British property, distributed illegal pamphlets, and set up alternative institutions such as the Constitutional Convention. “Civil resistance repeatedly shows up in undemocratic moments and contexts,” Romanow, of Momentum, told me. “It’s not a coincidence that Black Americans have led when it came to bringing civil-resistance tactics into American organizing, because Black Americans have not been living in a democracy for four hundred years.” Romanow and I were speaking in late October. “Many people now rightly think that, if things go off the rails during or after this election, the institutions alone might not necessarily save us,” she continued. “Once you realize that, you can go pretty quickly from despair to exhilaration: the institutions can’t save us, but maybe we can save ourselves.”
Like many academics, Chenoweth is wary of being prescriptive. “I don’t think it’s my job to tell people how to liberate themselves,” Chenoweth told me. “I do, however, think it can be useful to document patterns.” Sometimes the task is as simple as highlighting tactics that have been successful in the past, enabling future activists to think more creatively. During a recent lecture at Wellesley, Chenoweth described an anecdote relayed by a colleague, Stephen Zunes, about an action undertaken by a group of dissidents advocating for the independence of Western Sahara, a territory occupied by Morocco. Under Moroccan law, it is illegal to fly the flag of Western Sahara. To protest this law, instead of engaging in civil disobedience directly dissidents tied flags to the tails of dozens of feral cats. Chenoweth called this “a dilemma action,” because the government troops had to “either chase cats around the alleyways or let the flag fly. It’s a terrible set of choices for the opponent, and it’s humiliating.”
The first version of the NAVCO data set, now known as NAVCO 1.0, was, in Chenoweth’s words, “chunky data.” Subsequent iterations have yielded more granular findings. For example, when a civil-resistance campaign does succeed in overthrowing an oppressive government, the new government it installs is far more likely to remain stable and democratic. The data also yielded a pattern so simple and catchy that Chenoweth revealed it, in 2013, in the form of a TED talk—the 3.5 Percent Rule, which states that in every case where a mass-resistance campaign has attracted the “active and sustained participation” of at least three and a half per cent of the country’s population, the campaign has achieved its goal.
The 3.5 Percent Rule is meant to be descriptive, not predictive, a caveat that Chenoweth often repeats but that activists do not always hear. Since the talk, Chenoweth has become aware of two campaigns, in Brunei and Bahrain, that failed despite engaging more than three and a half per cent of the country’s population. Although civil-resistance campaigns in the past decade have continued to succeed more often than the armed ones, the success rate of all maximalist campaigns is dropping, as regimes become more proficient at surveilling and subduing rebellions. “I really blame the Internet,” Chenoweth said recently on a podcast. Although the Internet is good at “getting people to the streets quickly, in large numbers,” its costs to movements may outweigh its benefits. Also, momentum can be difficult to sustain without the more painstaking work of person-to-person organizing.
One of Chenoweth’s side projects, the Crowd Counting Consortium, attempts to quantify, in close to real time, the depth and breadth of the American protest movement, including both anti-Trump and pro-Trump demonstrations. Without such a count, if the anti-Trump resistance did reach the three-and-a-half-per-cent threshold—about eleven and a half million people—how would anyone know? The project is a collaboration between Chenoweth; Jeremy Pressman, a political scientist at the University of Connecticut; and a rotating crew of volunteers who verify reports of protests, in the press or on social media, and convert them into raw data. One of the most diligent volunteers is Zoe Marks, a scholar of African politics at the Kennedy School, who happens to be Chenoweth’s partner. “A lot of our date nights involve spreadsheets,” Chenoweth told me, a bit bashfully.
According to the Crowd Counting data, 97.7 per cent of Black Lives Matter protests this past summer were free of violence, with no injuries reported by protesters, police, or bystanders. “These figures should correct the narrative that the protests were overtaken by rioting,” Chenoweth and Pressman wrote in a recent Washington Post article. Of course, in a world that includes social media and Rupert Murdoch, the narrative that should prevail is not always the narrative that does. At pivotal moments, such as after a police shooting or during an attempted authoritarian power grab, organizers may find themselves facing a paradox. If nobody mobilizes in response to egregious abuses by the state, the abuses may appear to go unanswered. If people do mobilize, and if a tiny minority of protesters initiate violence, then that violence can be used, cynically or otherwise, to cast the movement as illegitimate, making it more likely to lose. There is no consensus, either among academics or among activists, on what constitutes violence—some disavow property damage, others argue that a few smashed windows can sometimes help the cause. Under normal circumstances, an image of a protester throwing a rock could go viral, prompting a negative press cycle. In a volatile post-election moment, a single violent incident might give a flailing autocrat a pretext to ramp up repression by police, or even to declare emergency powers. Shortly after the 2020 election, as armed militias, white nationalists, and other Trump supporters planned a march in Washington, D.C., Lakey’s group, Choose Democracy, wrote an e-mail to its network of volunteers. “We don’t believe this is the moment for activation in the streets,” it read. “Let’s keep breathing, staying attentive, and be ready for action if things escalate.”
NAVCO 1.0 counted three hundred and twenty-three maximalist campaigns that occurred up to 2006. The list has been updated continually since then, and now comprises six hundred and twenty-seven examples—including, for the first time, an American campaign. In the prepublication copy of “Civil Resistance: What Everyone Needs to Know” that I received in October, the campaigns were laid out chronologically in a table at the back of the book. Appearing shortly after “Anti-Gnassingbé,” a campaign in Togo, and shortly before the “Yellow Vests,” a movement in France, was the “Anti-Trump resistance.” Under “Primary method,” it was coded as nonviolent. Under “Outcome,” instead of “success” or “failure,” was the word “ongoing.”
In September, 2017, Merriman, of the I.C.N.C., wrote a blog post recommending more investment in what he called “democracy insurance.” Just as American taxpayers keep the Federal Emergency Management Agency staffed in case of natural disaster, he argued, so should nongovernmental organizations in free societies fund “civil resistance capacity” in case of a lurch toward authoritarianism. This argument was impossible to separate from Merriman’s interests—he was, after all, the president of an organization that specialized in building such capacity—but it was also substantiated by robust evidence. In his blog post, Merriman wrote that “democracies in many countries are backsliding, such as in Hungary, Poland, the Philippines, South Africa, and the United States.” He wanted to insure that, should this backsliding continue, the people would be ready to mobilize.
In late May, a video of Derek Chauvin kneeling on George Floyd’s neck set off a wave of protests around the country. On June 1st, near the White House, federal agents pepper-sprayed peaceful protesters, clearing the way for President Trump to pose for a photo op; a few weeks later, federal agents drove through Portland, Oregon, in unmarked vans, snatching protesters off the streets without warning. It seemed that the slide toward autocracy was rapidly accelerating. Merriman, who lives in a suburb of Washington, D.C., expressed his concerns to Romanow, who introduced him to three activists who specialize in digital organizing: Ankur Asthana, in Hoboken, New Jersey; Marium Navid, in Los Angeles; and Kifah Shah, in New York City. “Hardy has been immersed in civil-resistance theory for years,” Shah said. “Marium, Ankur, and I know how to get that information out to people and train them on how to use it.”
The four activists met on Zoom throughout July and August, whenever all of them could spare time from their day jobs. By the end of August, they had put together a fifty-five-page document called “Hold the Line: A Guide to Defending Democracy.” The guide established a few “red lines” (“Trump may declare victory even if the election day results are ambiguous”) and proposed some collective responses in the event that those lines were crossed—a combination of standard methods, such as calling elected officials to ask that they respect the democratic process, and Sharpian methods, such as boycotts and civil disobedience. One section, written primarily by Merriman, was a crash course in the consent theory of power which cited several experts in the field, including Chenoweth and Stephan. The rest of the guide was studded with worksheets and sample meeting agendas. (The title page included a disclaimer: “The views expressed here are solely personal to the authors and do not represent the views of any employer.”) In October, the organizers began hosting Zoom trainings, encouraging volunteers to form local Hold the Line groups. By the end of the month, each session was attracting hundreds of people.


newyorker--2020-11-16--A Missing Jacob Lawrence Painting Reappears After Decades

In an October packed with surprises , at least one was good .
A visitor to the exhibition “ Jacob Lawrence : The American Struggle , ” at the Metropolitan Museum of Art , came away suspecting that one of five paintings long missing from the series , which documents the nation ’ s turbulent birth in thirty twelve-by-sixteen-inch panels , was just across Central Park , hanging in her neighbor ’ s living room .
How did she know ?
No image of the painting existed .
The two women have lived in the same Upper West Side building @ @ @ @ @ @ @ privileges are reciprocal ; the museum visitor had seen her neighbor ’ s painting hundreds of times .
At her nudging , the owner made contact with the museum ’ s curators .
A week later , the painting—speedily authenticated—was on the Met ’ s wall , reunited with its brethren .
“ I ’ m not a collector , ” the painting ’ s owner said the other day , over the phone .
“ I ’ m just a person , and I love pictures.
” The widespread excitement at the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ but the publicity had startled her .
“ I ’ m hoping that my anonymity will be respected and that I can go back to Citarella and Fairway and my normal life.
” She and her husband bought the Lawrence in 1960 , when she was twenty-seven .
“ I had a two-year-old and a three-year-old , and I wanted them to have rhythm classes , so I went to a music school .
And when I entered the lobby there was a woman hanging pictures .
She said to me , ‘ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ you watch my pictures ?
’ ” The woman ’ s husband , Mac Fagelson , worked for the Julius Lowy framing company .
( “ Very prestigious.
” ) The couple was holding an auction to provide music lessons for children in need .
The Lawrence was one of the items for sale , and the young mother bought it , for around a hundred dollars .
“ It led to a twenty-five-year friendship , ” she said .
Fagelson went on to give the painting ’ s owner a philosophy of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ me , ‘ When you buy a picture , there are two things you must consider .
One is can you afford it , and two is do you love it .
Only time will tell who becomes famous and who is obsolete .
So do not concern yourself with those issues.
’ ” The Lawrence picture had checked both boxes .
“ I recognized the content immediately , ” she said .
“ I knew it was the American Revolution.
” ( Actually , the painting , which features blue-coated soldiers pointing @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , depicts Shay ’ s Rebellion , an uprising of Massachusetts farmers that took place in the newly independent United States . )
“ I loved it the minute I saw it .
My husband agreed .
He has a very good eye .
The price was nominal .
The colors were vivid .
The style was different from anything I had seen .
We knew who Jacob Lawrence was , but we never invested a lot of importance in it.
” Lawrence made his “ Struggle ” series between 1954 and 1956 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Institute .
Its subject matter spans the nation ’ s early decades , beginning with Patrick Henry ’ s “ Give me liberty or give me death ” speech and continuing through the drafting of the Constitution , the War of 1812 , and westward expansion , highlighting the agonies of slavery and the experiences of Native Americans .
The discovered painting , the sixteenth in the series , is titled “ There are combustibles in every State , which a spark might set fire to .
—Washington , 26 December 1786.
” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ by the soon-to-be President , warning of internal threats faced by the young country .
The series was split up and sold , against Lawrence ’ s wishes , and had never been displayed together in a museum before .
The painting ’ s owner had begun to suspect that her picture might be newsworthy earlier this year , after she read a Wall Street Journal article about the show ’ s première , at the Peabody Essex Museum , in Massachusetts .
But she was about to leave on a trip to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ can not deal with this , ” she said .
“ There will probably be other opportunities.
” After her neighbor urged her to take action , she said , “ I put it in a pillowcase , wrapped it in a lot of bubble wrap , went to my granddaughter ’ s apartment , hung it on the wall , and said , ‘ Call me if you need me.
’ ” ( Covid concerns made her eager to avoid a curator ’ s visit . )
The other day , the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ were invited to visit the exhibition , privately , before the Met opened .
( The painting has since left the museum , and will travel to Birmingham , Seattle , and Washington , D.C. ) As an homage to Lawrence ’ s distinctive palette , she wore a royal-blue jacket and a new blue checked scarf .
“ I usually like earth tones , ” she said .
“ So it was , as they say , bashert.
” The painting was still in the gold-leaf frame that Fagelson had chosen .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ to me , ” she said .
“ It belongs to the artist .
I ’ m just part of the story.
” ♦

Jacob Lawrence Illustration by João Fazenda
In an October packed with surprises, at least one was good. A visitor to the exhibition “Jacob Lawrence: The American Struggle,” at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, came away suspecting that one of five paintings long missing from the series, which documents the nation’s turbulent birth in thirty twelve-by-sixteen-inch panels, was just across Central Park, hanging in her neighbor’s living room. How did she know? No image of the painting existed. The two women have lived in the same Upper West Side building for going on sixty years. Pop-in privileges are reciprocal; the museum visitor had seen her neighbor’s painting hundreds of times. At her nudging, the owner made contact with the museum’s curators. A week later, the painting—speedily authenticated—was on the Met’s wall, reunited with its brethren.
“I’m not a collector,” the painting’s owner said the other day, over the phone. “I’m just a person, and I love pictures.” The widespread excitement at the painting’s discovery was gratifying, but the publicity had startled her. “I’m hoping that my anonymity will be respected and that I can go back to Citarella and Fairway and my normal life.”
She and her husband bought the Lawrence in 1960, when she was twenty-seven. “I had a two-year-old and a three-year-old, and I wanted them to have rhythm classes, so I went to a music school. And when I entered the lobby there was a woman hanging pictures. She said to me, ‘You have an honest face. Will you watch my pictures?’ ” The woman’s husband, Mac Fagelson, worked for the Julius Lowy framing company. (“Very prestigious.”) The couple was holding an auction to provide music lessons for children in need. The Lawrence was one of the items for sale, and the young mother bought it, for around a hundred dollars. “It led to a twenty-five-year friendship,” she said.
Fagelson went on to give the painting’s owner a philosophy of art buying. “He said to me, ‘When you buy a picture, there are two things you must consider. One is can you afford it, and two is do you love it. Only time will tell who becomes famous and who is obsolete. So do not concern yourself with those issues.’ ” The Lawrence picture had checked both boxes. “I recognized the content immediately,” she said. “I knew it was the American Revolution.” (Actually, the painting, which features blue-coated soldiers pointing bayonets at a band of grimacing men, depicts Shays’ Rebellion, an uprising of Massachusetts farmers that took place in the newly independent United States.) “I loved it the minute I saw it. My husband agreed. He has a very good eye. The price was nominal. The colors were vivid. The style was different from anything I had seen. We knew who Jacob Lawrence was, but we never invested a lot of importance in it.”
Lawrence made his “Struggle” series between 1954 and 1956, while he taught at the Pratt Institute. Its subject matter spans the nation’s early decades, beginning with Patrick Henry’s “Give me liberty or give me death” speech and continuing through the drafting of the Constitution, the War of 1812, and westward expansion, highlighting the agonies of slavery and the experiences of Native Americans. The discovered painting, the sixteenth in the series, is titled “There are combustibles in every State, which a spark might set fire to. —Washington, 26 December 1786.” The line is from a letter sent by the soon-to-be President, warning of internal threats faced by the young country. The series was split up and sold, against Lawrence’s wishes, and had never been displayed together in a museum before.
The painting’s owner had begun to suspect that her picture might be newsworthy earlier this year, after she read a Wall Street Journal article about the show’s première, at the Peabody Essex Museum, in Massachusetts. But she was about to leave on a trip to Florida. “I thought, I cannot deal with this,” she said. “There will probably be other opportunities.” After her neighbor urged her to take action, she said, “I put it in a pillowcase, wrapped it in a lot of bubble wrap, went to my granddaughter’s apartment, hung it on the wall, and said, ‘Call me if you need me.’ ” (Covid concerns made her eager to avoid a curator’s visit.)
The other day, the painting’s owner and her husband were invited to visit the exhibition, privately, before the Met opened. (The painting has since left the museum, and will travel to Birmingham, Seattle, and Washington, D.C.) As an homage to Lawrence’s distinctive palette, she wore a royal-blue jacket and a new blue checked scarf. “I usually like earth tones,” she said. “So it was, as they say, bashert.” The painting was still in the gold-leaf frame that Fagelson had chosen. “It doesn’t just belong to me,” she said. “It belongs to the artist. I’m just part of the story.” ♦


newyorker--2020-11-16--“We Feel Now a Largeness Coming On,” by Tracy K. Smith

Being called all manner of things from the Dictionary of Shame— not English , not words , not heard , @ @ @ @ @ carried , never spent— we feel now a largeness coming on , something passing into @ @ @ @ @ in what source it was begun , but rapt , we watch it rise through @ @ @ @ @ , our millions dragged , chained .
Like daylight setting leaves alight— green to gold @ @ @ @ @ a spirit caught .
Flame-in-flesh .
I watched a woman try to shake it , @ @ @ @ @ and hips .
A wild annihilating fright .
Other women formed a wall around her @ @ @ @ @ to rise .
God .
Devil .
Ancestor .
What Black bodies carry through your @ @ @ @ @ Do you see how mighty you ’ ve made us , all these generations running @ @ @ @ @ against it .
Every day coaxing it back into coils .
And all the while @ @ @ @ @ the while loving it .

Audio: Read by the author.
Being called all manner of things
from the Dictionary of Shame—
not English, not words, not heard,
but worn, borne, carried, never spent—
we feel now a largeness coming on,
something passing into us. We know
not in what source it was begun, but
rapt, we watch it rise through our fallen,
our slain, our millions dragged, chained.
Like daylight setting leaves alight—
green to gold to blinding white.
Like a spirit caught. Flame-in-flesh.
I watched a woman try to shake it, once,
from her shoulders and hips. A wild
annihilating fright. Other women
formed a wall around her, holding back
what clamored to rise. God. Devil.
Ancestor. What Black bodies carry
through your schools, your cities.
Do you see how mighty you’ve made us,
all these generations running?
Every day steeling ourselves against it.
Every day coaxing it back into coils.
And all the while feeding it.
And all the while loving it.


newyorker--2020-11-16--How a Deadly Police Force Ruled a City

How a Deadly Police Force Ruled a City

Melissa Nold , an attorney who specializes in police use-of-force cases , filed the complaint .
Two months later , she and Nichelini were at a city-council meeting in which the police were requesting a change to their contract .
They wanted a clause deleted that allowed the city to order an officer to be drug-tested after firing his weapon .
The clause had not been enforced for years , but Vallejo ’ s first Black police chief , Shawny Williams , was about to take office , and there was a presumption that he would be a reformer .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ room and filmed Nold .
The clause was deleted and , two months later , Nichelini became the president of the V.P.O.A .
A few days after Monterrosa was killed , police replaced the windshield that Tonn had fired through .
For possible involvement in the destruction of evidence , Nichelini was suspended by Williams .
He maintains that he had nothing to do with the windshield replacement .
Early on the morning of May 28 , 2012 , a forty-one-year-old Black man named Anton Barrett , Sr. , whose nineteen-year-old son was @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of a parking lot with his headlights off and ran a red light .
He was drunk , and when cops tried to stop him he drove off .
Then his car got a flat tire , and he and his son jumped out and ran in different directions through an apartment complex .
Kenney began chasing Barrett , and , though he was carrying pepper spray and a Taser , he chose to draw his gun .
Seconds later , he saw Barrett running toward him and fired five times .
Kenney @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a black object out of his pocket—it turned out to be a wallet .
As Barrett lay on the ground dying , another officer Tased him .
Barrett ’ s family sued , and the city eventually paid a settlement of two hundred and thirty-five thousand dollars .
Three months later , Kenney shot Mario Romero , a twenty-three-year-old Black man , who was returning home after a night out with his sister ’ s boyfriend , Joseph Johnson .
When the men pulled up to the house , Johnson called Romero ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ him in .
Kenney and Dustin Joseph , who were responding to a call about a burglary in the neighborhood , shone a spotlight on the men .
Kenney said that Romero got out of the car and reached for his waistband .
Then , he said , when the officers yelled for the men to put their hands up Romero crouched “ into a firing position , ” prompting Kenney and his partner to begin shooting .
Johnson , however , said that the cops began firing at him and Romero while @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s sisters were watching from their living-room window , and said that they saw Kenney jump onto the hood of the car and unload his clip through the windshield into Romero , who was sitting in the driver ’ s seat .
Johnson corroborated this account .
Kenney admitted that he ’ d stood on the hood but insisted that he hadn ’ t fired from there .
Romero was shot thirty times .
After his body was removed , Kenney searched the car .
He said that he found an airsoft @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the driver ’ s seat and the center console .
Seven weeks later , an autistic man named Jeremiah Moore and his boyfriend were smashing car windows and trying to set their home on fire during a psychotic episode .
When the police arrived , Moore grabbed an antique rifle and Kenney shot and killed him .
Moore ’ s family sued , and won a two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar settlement .
The Romero family , along with other community members , attended sessions of the newly created citizens ’ advisory committee , which met for @ @ @ @ @ @ @ But the issues the committee debated were modest : a small reduction in wages , requiring cops to use body cameras , creating a position for a civilian auditor who would respond to complaints of police misconduct .
The former officers who sat on the committee regularly objected to these proposals , raising the spectre of lawsuits by the V.P.O.A .
should the city try to interfere with police work .
In the end , the committee ’ s recommendations included installing more surveillance cameras , establishing a daytime curfew for youths , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ using money from a new public-services tax to hire more cops .
Three years after the death of Romero , his family won a two-million-dollar settlement .
Later that year , the police department completed its review of the case and declared that the shooting was justified .
Officers told Open Vallejo that Kenney was initiated into the badge-bending group .
In 2011 , he was made a detective .
One of his new duties was to investigate officer-involved shootings .
Reformers who have succeeded in getting rogue cops censured or fired often @ @ @ @ @ @ @ because there are no national and few statewide indexes that track police terminations and disciplinary infractions , tainted officers often find new jobs in different jurisdictions .
A recent study published in the Yale Law Journal found that about three per cent of officers serving in Florida had been fired from other state agencies .
These cops , who typically moved to smaller forces that were desperate for experienced officers , were more likely than others to be charged with misconduct in their new departments .
Sometimes a cop will resign before he @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Before Timothy Loehmann , the officer who killed twelve-year-old Tamir Rice , in Cleveland , joined the city ’ s police force , he had resigned from his previous job , in Independence , Ohio , where supervisors noted his insubordination , lying , and emotional immaturity .
Officers can also transfer in order to escape reforms .
In the past year , large numbers of cops in Seattle , Buffalo , Atlanta , and San Francisco have left .
After four cops were charged with killing George Floyd , about two @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the department , citing “ post-traumatic stress.
” Law Enforcement Move , a company founded in the wake of the recent protests , says that it helps officers “ escape anti-police cities , and live in America , again !
” Since June , its founder told me , the company has been contacted by more than a thousand cops , or their spouses , who are interested in relocating to more “ police-friendly ” communities .
Some of Vallejo ’ s most notorious officers transferred from Oakland , where a lawsuit brought @ @ @ @ @ @ @ plaintiffs claimed that police had routinely kidnapped , beaten , and planted evidence on people .
In 2014 , a court-appointed overseer announced that he would be tightening oversight on uses of force , and punishing officers who didn ’ t report misconduct by their colleagues .
Within four months , six officers had left for Vallejo .
Three of them were eventually involved in lethal shootings .
All six were sued for excessive use of force .
Two of the former Oakland officers were the twin brothers Ryan and David McLaughlin , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Vallejo on the ground that they smelled marijuana , even after it had been legalized .
The brothers justified these searches as “ compliance checks , ” meant to make sure that people weren ’ t carrying more than the legal limit .
“ That ’ s maybe how they roll in certain other nations , ” a judge later said in court .
“ But that is not probable cause.
” In 2018 , David McLaughlin , while off duty , got into a heated confrontation with a man celebrating his son @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Walnut Creek .
He pointed his service gun at the man , then tackled him and punched and elbowed him until his face was bloody .
( McLaughlin maintains that he acted within professional boundaries . )
Five months later , McLaughlin pulled over a man on a motorcycle for speeding , then drew his gun on him .
The man ’ s cousin , an African-American marine veteran named Adrian Burrell , filmed the encounter from his front porch .
McLaughlin ordered Burrell to retreat .
Burrell refused , resulting in a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ him a concussion .
McLaughlin faces lawsuits in both cases .
Jarrett Tonn , Monterrosa ’ s shooter , joined the Vallejo force the same year as the Oakland cops .
Tonn had been an officer in Galt , California , where he worked with his cousin , Kevin Tonn .
One day in 2013 , Kevin confronted a man who he thought , incorrectly , was a suspect in a robbery .
The man pulled out a gun and shot Kevin , then shot himself .
Jarrett rushed to the scene , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to Vallejo might have seemed like an unlikely career move .
Crime was high , the city was just a few years out of bankruptcy , and the school system had recently emerged from state receivership .
But Tonn wasn ’ t going to live there .
Even after the bankruptcy , Vallejo officers were some of the highest paid in California .
Tonn ’ s base pay during his first full year in Vallejo was a hundred thousand dollars—thirty-six thousand dollars more than he made in Galt .
This didn ’ t @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 2018 , he made twenty-seven thousand dollars in overtime and thirty-one thousand dollars in “ other pay , ” and received twenty-two thousand dollars ’ worth of benefits .
In addition , his pension was funded with fifty-eight thousand dollars .
The year after Tonn started working in Vallejo , he chased an unarmed man who was driving a stolen car .
The man crashed into someone ’ s front yard , then reversed into Tonn ’ s car .
Tonn doesn ’ t remember feeling the impact , but in two seconds @ @ @ @ @ @ @ into the car , injuring the man .
The officer who wrote the police review of the shooting was Kent Tribble , who once , when responding to a domestic dispute , went to the house of a Black man by mistake , Tased him through his bedroom window after the man shouted profanities at him , and later charged him with resisting arrest .
On another occasion , when he was off duty , he pulled a gun on two men in Bend , Oregon , during a drunken confrontation after leaving @ @ @ @ @ @ @ respond to a request for comment . )
A couple of years later , Tribble was promoted to lieutenant .
When he reviewed Tonn ’ s shooting , he wrote that Tonn had acted in accordance with his training .
In 2017 , Tonn was paired with Sean Kenney , the officer who killed three people in 2012 .
One day , Tonn and Kenney were pursuing Kevin DeCarlo , a suspect in a pawnshop robbery that had ended in a homicide .
( He was never charged in connection with the crime @ @ @ @ @ @ @ stop sign , Kenney rammed his car .
DeCarlo rammed Kenney back , then got stuck in a ditch .
Tonn fired at least eight rounds with a rifle at DeCarlo ; other officers , including Kenney , fired at him as well .
A witness told police that the scene resembled an execution .
DeCarlo suffered four broken ribs , a collapsed lung , and the loss of two fingers .
Tonn told investigators that he thought DeCarlo was reaching for a firearm , but DeCarlo had no weapon .
( Tonn @ @ @ @ @ @ @ comment . )
According to the Pew Research Center , only a quarter of cops ever fire their weapon on duty , but this was Kenney ’ s fifth shooting in five years .
A year and a half later , he retired .
He started a consulting firm called Line Driven Strategies , which conducts training courses for police departments on the use of force and on how to investigate shootings by the police .
Kenney declined an interview , saying that there was “ too much negativity and hate in this @ @ @

In the end, the committee’s recommendations included installing more surveillance cameras, establishing a daytime curfew for youths, increasing enforcement of parking violations, and using money from a new public-services tax to hire more cops.
Three years after the death of Romero, his family won a two-million-dollar settlement. Later that year, the police department completed its review of the case and declared that the shooting was justified. Officers told Open Vallejo that Kenney was initiated into the badge-bending group. In 2011, he was made a detective. One of his new duties was to investigate officer-involved shootings.
Reformers who have succeeded in getting rogue cops censured or fired often come up against a frustrating reality: because there are no national and few statewide indexes that track police terminations and disciplinary infractions, tainted officers often find new jobs in different jurisdictions. A recent study published in the Yale Law Journal found that about three per cent of officers serving in Florida had been fired from other state agencies. These cops, who typically moved to smaller forces that were desperate for experienced officers, were more likely than others to be charged with misconduct in their new departments. Sometimes a cop will resign before he is fired, thus avoiding any consequences. Before Timothy Loehmann, the officer who killed twelve-year-old Tamir Rice, in Cleveland, joined the city’s police force, he had resigned from his previous job, in Independence, Ohio, where supervisors noted his insubordination, lying, and emotional immaturity.
Officers can also transfer in order to escape reforms. In the past year, large numbers of cops in Seattle, Buffalo, Atlanta, and San Francisco have left. After four cops were charged with killing George Floyd, about two hundred officers in Minneapolis filed to quit the department, citing “post-traumatic stress.” Law Enforcement Move, a company founded in the wake of the recent protests, says that it helps officers “escape anti-police cities, and live in America, again!” Since June, its founder told me, the company has been contacted by more than a thousand cops, or their spouses, who are interested in relocating to more “police-friendly” communities.
Some of Vallejo’s most notorious officers transferred from Oakland, where a lawsuit brought on behalf of a hundred and nineteen plaintiffs claimed that police had routinely kidnapped, beaten, and planted evidence on people. In 2014, a court-appointed overseer announced that he would be tightening oversight on uses of force, and punishing officers who didn’t report misconduct by their colleagues. Within four months, six officers had left for Vallejo. Three of them were eventually involved in lethal shootings. All six were sued for excessive use of force.
Two of the former Oakland officers were the twin brothers Ryan and David McLaughlin, who often searched men of color in Vallejo on the ground that they smelled marijuana, even after it had been legalized. The brothers justified these searches as “compliance checks,” meant to make sure that people weren’t carrying more than the legal limit. “That’s maybe how they roll in certain other nations,” a judge later said in court. “But that is not probable cause.”
In 2018, David McLaughlin, while off duty, got into a heated confrontation with a man celebrating his son’s birthday at a pizzeria in Walnut Creek. He pointed his service gun at the man, then tackled him and punched and elbowed him until his face was bloody. (McLaughlin maintains that he acted within professional boundaries.) Five months later, McLaughlin pulled over a man on a motorcycle for speeding, then drew his gun on him. The man’s cousin, an African-American marine veteran named Adrian Burrell, filmed the encounter from his front porch. McLaughlin ordered Burrell to retreat. Burrell refused, resulting in a struggle that, he alleges, gave him a concussion. McLaughlin faces lawsuits in both cases.
Jarrett Tonn, Monterrosa’s shooter, joined the Vallejo force the same year as the Oakland cops. Tonn had been an officer in Galt, California, where he worked with his cousin, Kevin Tonn. One day in 2013, Kevin confronted a man who he thought, incorrectly, was a suspect in a robbery. The man pulled out a gun and shot Kevin, then shot himself. Jarrett rushed to the scene, but his cousin was dying.
A memorial for Sean Monterrosa in San Francisco, where he was from. Photograph by Carolyn Drake / Magnum for The New Yorker
Transferring to Vallejo might have seemed like an unlikely career move. Crime was high, the city was just a few years out of bankruptcy, and the school system had recently emerged from state receivership. But Tonn wasn’t going to live there. Even after the bankruptcy, Vallejo officers were some of the highest paid in California. Tonn’s base pay during his first full year in Vallejo was a hundred thousand dollars—thirty-six thousand dollars more than he made in Galt. This didn’t account for overtime and benefits. In 2018, he made twenty-seven thousand dollars in overtime and thirty-one thousand dollars in “other pay,” and received twenty-two thousand dollars’ worth of benefits. In addition, his pension was funded with fifty-eight thousand dollars.
The year after Tonn started working in Vallejo, he chased an unarmed man who was driving a stolen car. The man crashed into someone’s front yard, then reversed into Tonn’s car. Tonn doesn’t remember feeling the impact, but in two seconds he shot eighteen rounds from his Glock into the car, injuring the man.
The officer who wrote the police review of the shooting was Kent Tribble, who once, when responding to a domestic dispute, went to the house of a Black man by mistake, Tased him through his bedroom window after the man shouted profanities at him, and later charged him with resisting arrest. On another occasion, when he was off duty, he pulled a gun on two men in Bend, Oregon, during a drunken confrontation after leaving a bar. (Tribble did not respond to a request for comment.) A couple of years later, Tribble was promoted to lieutenant. When he reviewed Tonn’s shooting, he wrote that Tonn had acted in accordance with his training.
In 2017, Tonn was paired with Sean Kenney, the officer who killed three people in 2012. One day, Tonn and Kenney were pursuing Kevin DeCarlo, a suspect in a pawnshop robbery that had ended in a homicide. (He was never charged in connection with the crime.) When DeCarlo stopped at a stop sign, Kenney rammed his car. DeCarlo rammed Kenney back, then got stuck in a ditch. Tonn fired at least eight rounds with a rifle at DeCarlo; other officers, including Kenney, fired at him as well. A witness told police that the scene resembled an execution. DeCarlo suffered four broken ribs, a collapsed lung, and the loss of two fingers. Tonn told investigators that he thought DeCarlo was reaching for a firearm, but DeCarlo had no weapon. (Tonn did not respond to a request for comment.)
According to the Pew Research Center, only a quarter of cops ever fire their weapon on duty, but this was Kenney’s fifth shooting in five years. A year and a half later, he retired. He started a consulting firm called Line Driven Strategies, which conducts training courses for police departments on the use of force and on how to investigate shootings by the police. Kenney declined an interview, saying that there was “too much negativity and hate in this climate.”
Five weeks after shooting DeCarlo with Kenney, Tonn chased a carjacking suspect down an alley, then fired at him from half a block away. Tonn claimed that the man was carrying a gun, but no weapon was found. The policeman who wrote the internal report of the shooting, Jared Jaksch, was one of the officers who had shot at DeCarlo. Jaksch is also on the board of the V.P.O.A. He wrote that Tonn had done nothing wrong, but recommended that adjustments be made to training “to ensure officers know that they must react in self defense without consideration for potential future civil unrest.”
I wanted to learn how Vallejo police officers viewed the perception that they act with impunity. Though no one on the police force agreed to talk to me on the record, I did find a body-camera recording in which an officer revealed his thoughts. On July 7, 2016, Josh Coleman and a partner were on patrol in Vallejo when they saw some twenty Black people standing in an intersection. For a documentary about Bay Area hip-hop, a Viceland reporter was interviewing Nef the Pharaoh, a protégé of E-40. Coleman assumed that they were shooting a rap video. He later told a court that, since he had seen guns used in rap videos, he thought this was sufficient cause to detain and search as many of the men as he could.
As an officer began to arrest a man with a handgun, Coleman ordered a group of onlookers to move across the street. (A judge later dismissed the charges, saying that there was no probable cause for a search.) A twenty-one-year-old woman, whom I’ll call Aliya, ignored him, so Coleman threw her against his car and arrested her.
Coleman spotted a rapper known as Cousin Fik, with whom he went to high school. Coleman believes that the main reason for street violence is “the music, plain and simple.” He admonished Cousin Fik for delivering a detrimental message. “Until men like you and people like I start delivering the same exact message, we are not going to be able to do anything,” Coleman said. “People are still going to get killed.”
At the police station, Coleman put Aliya in an interrogation room and asked her why she had refused to cross the street.
“Because that’s my baby daddy, and I don’t want nothing to happen to him,” she said. “All these police officers want to shoot a Black person. If you’re going to shoot him, I’m going to be right with him.”
“In the political climate today, do you think any police officer really wants to shoot a Black person?” Coleman asked.
“So why do they?”
“Listen, we can risk sending them back to school, but, honestly, these are the skills they’re going to need most in the new world.” Cartoon by Avi Steinberg Copy link to cartoon Copy link to cartoon Shop Shop
“We’re protecting our lives.”
“O.K., you’re cool today, but another officer would have had his gun out and automatically just shot him.”
“No, that doesn’t happen. Seriously, think about it logically. You think a police officer is willing to risk his one-hundred-thousand-a-year job, all of his medical benefits, because he wants to shoot somebody who’s Black and be on the news, and be accused of being a murderer, and now he has to live the rest of his life being a UPS driver because he can’t be a cop anymore?”
“I’m not saying you do, but you never know what these—”


newyorker--2020-11-16--Slide Show: New Yorker Cartoons November 23, 2020

“ Big deal , you were in labor for nineteen hours .
I ’ m sure it was no picnic @ @ @ @ @ ”

“Big deal, you were in labor for nineteen hours. I’m sure it was no picnic for me, either.”
Cartoon by Barbara Smaller