newyorker--2020-08-10--How Suffering Farmers May Determine Trump’s Fate

Last October , Jerry Volenec , a dairy farmer from southwestern Wisconsin , took the morning off to go to Madison for the World Dairy Expo , an annual cattle-judging contest and trade show .
Volenec wanted to hear a town-hall discussion led by Sonny Perdue , Donald Trump ’ s Secretary of Agriculture , to learn how the Administration planned to address the economic crisis gripping Wisconsin ’ s family dairy farmers .
Volenec ’ s farm sits atop Bohemian Ridge , a jagged plateau named for the Czech immigrants who settled there in the late nineteenth century .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s great-great-grandfather , who established the farm , in 1897 .
In the nineteen-fifties and sixties , Volenec ’ s grandfather milked a herd of sixteen cows ; he could make a living because New Deal policies used price supports and other measures to boost farmers ’ earnings and limit overproduction .
Jerry Volenec always wanted to become a farmer .
“ You couldn ’ t keep me out of the barn , ” he said .
“ I was milking cows by myself by the time I was fourteen.
” By @ @ @ @ @ @ @ farming full time , the New Deal policies had largely been dismantled .
The family increased its herd to about seventy , and Volenec ’ s father started paying him a salary , enough money for his education at the University of Wisconsin-Platteville , and to start an I.R.A .
In 2000 , Volenec installed a milking parlor , and since then he has increased the herd to three hundred and thirty cows .
“ We ’ re the biggest of the small guys , ” Volenec , who is forty-five , with @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , said .
“ But I was making more money , doing less work , when I started , twenty-five years ago .
I ’ m basically paying myself living expenses now.
” Five years ago , the price of milk fell precipitously , accelerating the long unravelling of rural Wisconsin .
Since 2010 , the population in two-thirds of the state ’ s rural counties has decreased , leading to a shrinking workforce , fewer jobs and businesses , and slower income growth rates than in metro counties .
More than seventy @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the past three years the state has led the country in family-farm bankruptcies .
“ The level of desperation and lack of hope in our phone calls has increased , ” Angie Sullivan , who supervises caseworkers at the Wisconsin Farm Center , part of the state ’ s Department of Agriculture , said .
“ Dairy farmers are working on their fifth year of low milk prices .
Many banks have stopped loaning them money.
” Wisconsin has seven thousand dairy farms , roughly half the number that it had a decade @ @ @ @ @ @ @ has remained constant , because of consolidation and the proliferation of factory dairy farms , some of which have herds of more than five thousand cows .
“ It ’ s like a never-ending cycle , almost like a hamster on the wheel , ” Travis Tranel , a Republican state representative from Cuba City , forty miles south of Volenec ’ s farm , told me .
Tranel is an organic dairy farmer with a five-hundred-cow herd .
“ You just keep running and running .
Your only option is to produce @ @ @ @ @ @ @ all but wiped out small dairy farms in Wisconsin and now threatens medium-sized farms such as his .
“ We can see the future if we stay on the path we ’ re on , ” he said , noting that the consolidation of hog farming had already transformed Iowa .
“ I definitely do not want to see rural Wisconsin become as empty as rural Iowa.
” After the town hall , Perdue took questions from reporters , one of whom asked if the state ’ s loss of small farms was @ @ @ @ @ @ @ big get bigger , and the small will go out , ” Perdue said .
“ I don ’ t think in America for any small business we have a guaranteed income or guaranteed profitability.
” Volenec wasn ’ t surprised by Perdue ’ s answer .
“ I walked in there knowing that ’ s how they felt , ” Volenec told me , referring to the Trump Administration .
“ The part that was unnerving to me was that he said it to our faces .
They ’ re not trying @ @ @ @ @ @ @ re telling us flat out : You ’ re not important.
” In 2016 , after voting for Barack Obama twice , Volenec voted for Trump .
Volenec had grown disenchanted with Obama after his Administration banned whole milk from schools and did little to slow the loss of family farms .
“ I wasn ’ t following politics closely , ” he said .
“ I never listened to Trump give a speech , just commentary over the radio .
I had the general impression that what ’ s wrong with the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ were involved , and that having a businessman in the White House would benefit me.
” As rural Wisconsin ’ s fortunes have declined , its political importance has grown .
Trump won the state by less than twenty-three thousand votes .
If the 2020 election is close , Trump could lose Michigan and Pennsylvania—the other Rust Belt states he flipped in 2016—and still win a second term by holding Wisconsin .
Trump underperformed in the suburban counties of Milwaukee , the Republican Party ’ s stronghold , while overperforming in the state @ @ @ @ @ @ @ won nearly two-thirds of the vote .
The Milwaukee Journal Sentinel found that the largest shift in voting between Obama ’ s seven-point victory in Wisconsin , in 2012 , and Trump ’ s one-point win came in communities that cast fewer than a thousand votes .
( Nationally , Trump won sixty-two per cent of the rural vote . )
Four years ago , Trump promised to reverse the economic decline of family farmers .
“ Hillary Clinton wants to shut down family farms just like she wants to shut down the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ said , during a campaign stop at the Iowa State Fairgrounds .
“ We are going to end this war on the American farmer.
” In early 2018 , he launched a series of trade wars , which provoked China , Mexico , Canada , and the European Union into imposing penalties on American dairy products .
Mexico , the largest importer of Wisconsin cheese , levied a twenty-five-per-cent tariff on American cheeses .
Last summer , Trump allotted fifteen billion dollars in compensation to farmers , but the vast majority of it @ @ @ @ @ @ @ In a tweet , he called farmers “ great patriots ” and promised that they would eventually be better off .
In June , as Trump ’ s poll numbers dropped nationwide , the Washington Post reported that his campaign advisers were losing hope for Michigan and Pennsylvania , and would focus on holding Wisconsin .
“ It ’ s baked into the cake that Trump will lose the state ’ s large metro areas in a landslide , while the suburbs have been fleeing him , ” Ben Wikler , the head @ @ @ @ @ @ @ me .
“ Trump can ’ t win a second term unless he racks up enormous margins in rural Wisconsin.
” For Volenec , Trump ’ s appeal vanished almost immediately .
“ If I had known the things I know about him now , I wouldn ’ t have voted for him , ” he said , when I visited him at his farm in February .
As Trump ’ s trade wars escalated , Volenec ’ s problems worsened .
In March , 2018 , Canada effectively cut off all dairy @ @ @ @ @ @ @ milk from Michigan that had previously been exported began flooding into Wisconsin ’ s processing plants .
The co-op where Volenec sent his milk for processing was now competing with cheap out-of-state milk , and put a cap on the amount that it would take from him .
That week , Volenec heard about a meeting of the Wisconsin Farmers Union , a family-farm advocacy group , in nearby Dodgeville , to promote a version of supply management , a system used in Canada that sets a quota on the production of dairy @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , like the New Deal policies , to prevent overproduction and to guarantee farmers a stable income , the system relies on higher prices for Canadian consumers .
Trump ’ s trade war with Canada is aimed at dismantling supply management , which has long been deplored by Republican politicians .
John Boehner , the former Speaker of the House , called it “ Soviet-style ” agriculture .
For Volenec , it was a revelation .
“ This was my first glimpse into a world where the dairy farmer is not subservient to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ an essay called “ Groomed for Apocalypse .
”

Trump won almost all the counties in the Driftless Area, but the 2018 midterms proved that Wisconsin was not yet a one-party state. Tony Evers, the state’s superintendent of schools, defeated Walker by twenty-nine thousand votes, and Democrats won every statewide office. Evers’s victory was driven by high turnout in Milwaukee and Madison, but also by better results in rural Wisconsin, including in the Driftless Area, where he won nearly half the counties. Evers, who grew up in Plymouth, a small town an hour north of Milwaukee whose motto is “Cheese capital of the world,” campaigned heavily in farm country. “People in rural Wisconsin care about schools, health care, and good roads as much as anybody else,” Evers told me. “Wisconsin is the linchpin for both parties. If a candidate can make inroads in rural Wisconsin, they will definitely win.”
The Statz Family Farm is on the western edge of the Baraboo Hills, a dramatic outcrop that straddles the border of the Driftless Area. In 1972, when Leon Statz was twelve years old, he moved there with his parents and seven siblings after their old farm, on Madison’s west side, was swallowed up by a shopping center. The new farm sat on two hundred acres, with a white farmhouse and a stanchion barn for sixty cows. During high school, Leon apprenticed with a farmer down the road. After graduating, he enrolled in the University of Wisconsin-Madison’s “short course,” a four-month agricultural-training program that has been offered since 1886.
In the early eighties, Leon married Brenda Farber, and they had three children. After the middle child was born, Brenda quit her assembly-line job in nearby Reedsburg so that she could bring up the children and help on the farm. Although they worked constantly, they had little money, and Leon fell into a depression. Brenda recalls him saying, “If I fail, I’m responsible for everybody, and everybody fails.”
Despite the economic hardship, Brenda remembers those years as a joyful time. “I loved raising my kids on the farm, because you get to be with your kids,” she told me as we sat at her dining-room table. Brenda, who is fifty-seven, has long beige-blond hair, glasses, and a soft smile. “We put swings in the barn so they could be near me when I milked,” she said. “They get to learn so much—my kids have seen calves being born. When my boys were little, we would put pillows in the tractor, and they’d sleep in the tractor while I was plowing. We’d pack a lunch and eat out in the field.”
In 2000, milk prices fell to a new low, and Brenda, like many people in the area, found a job at the clothing retailer Lands’ End, packing orders. She woke up at four, milked the cows, and then milked them again when she returned from work. Leon milked, fed the cattle, and ran the silos. The children helped, too, when they were old enough. Most of the neighbors were going under. “From here to Reedsburg, there were probably thirty small dairy farms like ours,” Brenda told me. “There are two of those still operating.”
Brenda Statz on her farm, on the western edge of the Baraboo Hills. Photograph by Peyton Fulford for The New Yorker
After Scott Walker was elected, Leon grew more vocal about politics. “He thought Walker was owned by big money,” Brenda said. “He would get irate about everything they were cutting that was for a farmer.” When Walker introduced Act 10, Leon joined protests at the state capitol. The law led to teacher pay cuts of about ten per cent, making recruitment more difficult for rural areas. Walker’s cuts to state aid for local governments disproportionately hurt rural communities, which typically have smaller tax bases. At the same time, Walker’s agricultural policy favored large farms: for example, much of a tax cut for manufacturers and farmers, passed in 2011, and which has already cost the state more than a billion dollars, went to businesses making more than a million dollars a year. Walker also pushed a law to allow foreign corporations to buy more Wisconsin farmland. (The effort failed.)
In December, 2017, Brenda had a knee replacement. With Brenda unable to milk for several weeks and prices in free fall, the Statzes decided to sell their dairy cows and switch to beef, corn, and soybeans. Leon took a job as a meat cutter at a nearby Piggly Wiggly but hated it. Several weeks later, he took dozens of antidepressants and drank five beers. He left a note for Brenda: “Wish I never sold my (our) cows. I’m a dairy farmer. I miss going to the barn and seeing cows in there. Now I hate going to the barn. I hate living around the farm. I hate working for someone else. I want my old life back, but I can’t get it any more. Everything I do fails. I didn’t plan ahead for this, I thought everything would be fine. I wish I could turn the clock back and start over. I really screwed up. I have everything that’s worth nothing. Sorry, good luck, Leon.”
Brenda found Leon semiconscious, and her pastor helped persuade him to go to a hospital in Madison. He went to psychiatrists and tried different medications, but, a few months later, Ethan, his youngest child, found him in an outbuilding, tying a noose. Leon underwent eight rounds of electroconvulsive therapy. Brenda recalls him crying on the return trip from the hospital in Madison. “I want to feel better and I can’t,” he told her.
One weekend in October, 2018, a neighbor’s land came up for sale. Leon had always dreamed of buying it for his sons, who wanted to farm. All weekend, he studied whether they could afford it, but it was impossible. “He got real quiet,” Brenda said. That Sunday, she asked Leon to help her deliver some tables and chairs for their grandson’s first-birthday party, but he declined. “I came back early and he was already in bed, and it wasn’t that late,” Brenda recalled. “He had a really hard time sleeping. He told me he wanted to talk that night, but I didn’t ever want to wake him once he was asleep.” Tears began pouring down her face. “Oh, I wished I would have woke him up.”
The next morning, as Brenda was getting ready for work, Ethan found Leon hanging from a noose in the shed. Brenda showed me a message he had written to her on a breeding card that she found in his wallet. “I love you,” it read. “I’m concerned about your health. I’m concerned about not getting a job. I’m working where I can.”
Brenda bought the neighbor’s land with money from Leon’s life-insurance policy. We walked to the edge of the property, which includes the shell of an old house that she hopes to tear down. Though friends had tried to dissuade her from buying the land, she never doubted her decision. “It’s what he wanted,” she said. “Now I got to figure out how to make this work.”
On a Saturday morning in February, farmers and their supporters packed the cafeteria of Baraboo High School for a “farmer appreciation breakfast.” Two dollars bought a plate of pancakes, scrambled eggs, and sausage served by high schoolers from the local chapter of Future Farmers of America. The breakfast was a benefit for the Farmer Angel Network, a support group founded by Randy Roecker, a dairy farmer from nearby Loganville, who was a friend of Leon Statz. As in many rural areas, suicides in Wisconsin have increased dramatically in recent years, reaching a record of nine hundred and eighteen in 2017. Roecker has had his own battles with depression. The problems started during the 2008 recession, shortly after he borrowed three million dollars to expand his family’s fifty-cow barn into a three-hundred-cow operation with a state-of-the-art milking parlor. “I’m losing thirty thousand dollars a month, and this has been going on for years,” Roecker said. To pay the banks, he keeps borrowing more, drawing on equity from his farm.
“I wanted to die every day,” he recalled. “My family really watched me close. They took all the guns out of the house, of course, but I would get in the truck and take off, and I’d go and drive into the back of our fields. I was numb, numb to everything. I would get panic attacks so bad that I couldn’t even go into a Walmart. I’d just sit out in the parking lot feeling sick.” Roecker went to see many psychiatrists, was hospitalized several times, and received electroconvulsive therapy. “Nobody could help me, nobody,” he said. “Finally, I had this vision in my head of my own funeral, and my family standing there, and that’s what kind of snapped me out of it. I couldn’t put my family through it.” Though Roecker no longer feels suicidal, he still struggles with depression.
Roecker describes himself as a “liberal conservative”—in 2008, he voted for Obama—and believes that Canadian-style supply management should be adopted in the United States. “We have a broken system,” he said. “It’s been that way since Earl Butz. But these bigger farms that I know don’t want supply management. They say it’s not the American way—free trade, free enterprise, that’s the American way.”
In 2008, Roecker participated in a trade mission to China for the U.S. Dairy Export Council, and he is keenly aware of the damage that Trump’s tariffs have done to markets that took years to cultivate. Still, he views Trump as transformative. “I don’t agree with everything he says,” Roecker said. “But he’s the only President who has ever tackled the trade issue.” He believes that Trump’s bellicose negotiating style will eventually lead to better terms for American farmers. Roecker cited the recently renegotiated NAFTA treaty, which includes a small increase in American dairy exports allowed into Canada. “Everybody else has kicked the can down the road for decades,” Roecker said.
In January, Roecker’s state representative offered him two tickets to a Trump rally in Milwaukee. “I was sitting in the second row behind the President,” Roecker said. “It was unreal. I felt more inspired than I ever have in my life. I’m not a big patriotic, flag-waving person, but I felt very patriotic going to that. My son, too. He’s twenty, and he kept saying, ‘Oh, my God, Dad. Oh, my God.’ ”
Roecker introduced me to his family, who were sitting around a cafeteria table. His mother, father, daughter, and son-in-law all work on the farm. His parents, both in their eighties, still wake up at three-thirty every morning and work until eight at night. All of them support Trump. “He talks to us like a builder is talking to his workers,” Roecker said. “I don’t know what it is—I’m not brainwashed—but this is how we feel. We feel like he is more in touch. I know what my wages are. We live below the poverty level over here. Most of the farmers I know, we’re on free health care, and a lot of farmers I know are on food stamps.” He looked around the table at his family. “It’s all Trump supporters around here.”
“And, in one of life’s cruel twists, you’ll eventually be able to stay out late but you’ll no longer want to.” Cartoon by Kendra Allenby Copy link to cartoon Copy link to cartoon Shop Shop
Conservatives have won just one of nine statewide races in Wisconsin since Trump became President. The most surprising defeat came in April, in a State Supreme Court race that turned into a national scandal. Shortly before Election Day, Governor Evers called for postponing it, owing to the coronavirus pandemic. He also asked a federal judge to extend the deadline for requesting and returning absentee ballots. Republicans sued him in the State Supreme Court, which has a conservative majority. The justices, all of whom had voted absentee, ruled that the election must go forward. In a separate last-minute ruling, the U.S. Supreme Court decided, 5–4, that Evers could not extend the deadline for absentee ballots, even though thousands of voters had not yet received them because of delays in the U.S. mail and the flood of requests sparked by the virus. The biggest voting problems were in Milwaukee, which had just five polling places open, out of a hundred and eighty. Thousands of voters stood in hours-long lines or were turned away when polls closed. But Jill Karofsky, a liberal circuit-court judge, took fifty-five per cent of the vote, winning almost all the Driftless Area counties.
Contact tracing by Wisconsin health officials has linked seventy-one cases of COVID-19 to in-person voting. Bill Hogseth, the chairman of the Dunn County Democratic Party, worried that he would be one of them. Hogseth had worked the polls on Election Day behind a plexiglass barrier wearing a surgical mask, safety glasses, and nitrile gloves. After the election, he self-isolated for fourteen days. Despite Joe Biden’s decisive win in the Democratic primary over Bernie Sanders, Hogseth is concerned about the lack of enthusiasm for Biden. “There’s a deep desire for structural change,” he said. “Biden’s running on a return to normalcy.” Hogseth, a Sanders supporter, noted the high number of suicides in rural Wisconsin and the empty barns he drives by. In 2016, Trump won Dunn County, which had twice gone for Obama. “The virus is laying bare just how fragile these rural communities are,” Hogseth said. “We have nine thousand people who are sixty or older, and we have zero I.C.U. beds.”
Like Hogseth, Josh Orton, a Wisconsin native and a senior Sanders campaign adviser, sees parallels between the policy records of Biden and Hillary Clinton. Orton noted that Clinton’s Wisconsin campaign had relied almost exclusively on appealing to anti-Trump sentiment. “I saw one positive Hillary ad that the campaign itself did, and it was a feel-good Katy Perry music video,” Orton said. “Every other ad was, like, ‘Trump is scary.’ ” In the end, Clinton received two hundred and thirty thousand fewer votes than Barack Obama had four years earlier. (Trump received several thousand fewer votes than Mitt Romney had.) “While the Supreme Court result is encouraging, I’m still concerned about November,” Orton said. “Joe Biden needs to give voters a reason to turn out besides beating Trump. He’s starting to, and I hope it continues. But will anti-Trump fervor be enough to win Wisconsin? Maybe.”


newyorker--2020-08-10--Teachers Across the Country Worry About a Rush to Reopen Schools

Zenzile DaBreo-St. Hilaire , a kindergarten teacher in Brooklyn , has a response to those who attack teachers for being reluctant to return to the classroom amid the pandemic .
She loved being with her students before the coronavirus hit—hugging them and using dance breaks to liven up the day at P.S./I.S .
109 , in East Flatbush .
“ There is a lot of stigma around teachers not wanting to go back to work , ” she told me .
“ That ’ s not true .
We ’ re actually working much harder at home than we were @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to be back in the classroom and do that hands-on learning with our scholars , but we also want to be safe.
” On Friday , New York ’ s governor , Andrew Cuomo , announced that schools across the city and the state could reopen , but he left the exact details to local officials .
In New York City , the mayor , Bill de Blasio , and education officials have proposed a hybrid plan of in-person and online learning for the fall semester , for the 1.1 million students in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the nation ’ s largest .
DaBreo-St. Hilaire , who has asthma , is not hugely reassured .
“ We really don ’ t know enough details yet to say it ’ s safe to go back , ” she said .
Before the pandemic , DaBreo-St. Hilaire often sat on a round blue rug next to her students .
Now she wants to know about the city ’ s plans for seating and social distancing .
She worries about the coronavirus spreading when parents drop off and pick up their children .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ the temperature of several hundred students when they arrive each morning .
“ Every child from kindergarten to third grade , they touch a lot .
They wipe their nose and touch their friends , ” she said .
“ They ’ re not going to understand that they can ’ t hug their friends , that they can ’ t hug their teachers .
It will be very difficult for young people to social-distance.
” Families have asked her whether restless kindergarteners will wear masks for hours at a time .
“ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ if the children exchange masks , ” she said .
“ How can we keep track of who came to school in a Superman mask , and who came to school in a Transformer mask ?
” DaBreo-St.Hilaire , who is thirty-two years old , grew up in East Flatbush , a predominantly Black neighborhood , and has taught at P.S./I.S .
109 for the past six years .
“ I wanted to be able to give back to my community , ” she said .
“ I wanted to be a true @ @ @ @ @ @ @ she won a Sanford Teaching Award , which is given to the “ most inspirational teacher ” in each state .
Though many parents have told her that they are uneasy about sending children back to school , she also realizes that reopening the schools will allow many parents to return to work full time .
“ My biggest concern is parents who are middle-class or lower-class families , and they have to go to work .
They can ’ t pay bills if they don ’ t go to work , ” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ real—how do we choose between keeping our children safe and making money to pay our bills ?
” After the lockdown began , in March , DaBreo-St. Hilaire didn ’ t step outside her home for three months ; one of her sisters , who is a nurse , dropped off groceries at her doorstep .
Nor did she see her fiancé for three months—he is an emergency-room nurse at St. John ’ s Episcopal Hospital , in Far Rockaway .
They were married on July 24th , with family and friends watching @ @ @ @ @ @ @ she and other teachers found remote instruction to be far more time-consuming and taxing than teaching in person .
In pre-COVID-19 days , she was in her classroom from 8:00 A.M. to 2:20 P.M .
When she began teaching remotely , she said , “ I was up at six in the morning setting up , ” and “ at the end of the workday , I was calling parents and students , making sure they could get online and troubleshooting .
We were actually working much longer days .
Sometimes until ten @ @ @ @ @ @ @ her responsibilities is to teach kindergarteners to write with a pencil—something that is infinitely easier to do in a classroom .
“ Of course , in-person teaching is better than online teaching , especially for such a young age group.
” In March , not all of her students could get online , partly because they hadn ’ t yet received iPads from the Department of Education ; some of them had to rely on cell phones for remote learning .
Kindergarteners , she explained , almost always need parents alongside them at @ @ @ @ @ @ @ difficult.
” “ Unfortunately , in the middle of the pandemic , where people lost their jobs and we had people passing away , it was initially hard to get parents engaged , ” she said .
“ I ’ ve had students whose parents were essential workers and first responders , and the parents may not be home .
It may be an aunt or a sibling helping the students , which makes it more difficult .
Sometimes it ’ s a grandparent .
It ’ s difficult to support a grandparent @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Some studies have found that young children are not as likely as adults to spread COVID-19 .
But summer camps on Long Island and in Georgia , and schools internationally , have had virus outbreaks .
DaBreo-St. Hilaire asks why it has been deemed safe for teachers and students to spend full days together in a classroom while Broadway shows and movie theatres have been declared unsafe and remain closed .
“ It ’ s important that we put the children first , ” she said .
“ We do the best we @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
We want to keep ourselves safe and keep our scholars safe and their families safe.
” As a public-high-school teacher in Manhattan , John Troutman McCrann shares DaBreo-St. Hilaire ’ s concerns about reopening schools without adequate precautions , but he also feels “ scared and worried ” about what has happened to some of his students since the beginning of the pandemic .
McCrann , who teaches math at Harvest Collegiate High School , described the school , situated on West Fourteenth Street , as one of the city ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ He said that the school has a plurality of Latino students , along with many African-American and white students .
McCrann told me , “ I talked to a student in June who hadn ’ t left his one-bedroom apartment since the quarantining began , three months earlier .
It seems incredibly unhealthy .
How can an adolescent body and mind not deteriorate in those circumstances ?
” On one hand , McCrann , who has been a teacher for fourteen years , is eager to return to the classroom to help such @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of child abuse during the lockdown .
But , on the other hand , he said , “ I have no confidence in the city ’ s plan that they are going to be able to keep me and my family safe from COVID-19.
” McCrann , who is thirty-seven , lives with his wife , an actor , and their seven-month-old son .
He said that the city ’ s hybrid plan is half-baked , with far more questions unanswered than answered .
Under the plan , many students would go to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to prevent classrooms from getting too crowded and to help insure social distancing .
He said that he lost confidence in city officials last March , when he was teaching twenty-eight students in a windowless room while officials dithered over the decision to close schools , even as the number of coronavirus cases in New York soared .
With a new school year beckoning , his advice to the city is that schools start with “ remote learning while developing a school-based plan based on safety protocols .
”

Zenzile DaBreo-St. Hilaire, a kindergarten teacher in Brooklyn, has a response to those who attack teachers for being reluctant to return to the classroom amid the pandemic. She loved being with her students before the coronavirus hit—hugging them and using dance breaks to liven up the day at P.S./I.S. 109, in East Flatbush. “There is a lot of stigma around teachers not wanting to go back to work,” she told me. “That’s not true. We’re actually working much harder at home than we were in the classroom. We would love to be back in the classroom and do that hands-on learning with our scholars, but we also want to be safe.” On Friday, New York’s governor, Andrew Cuomo, announced that schools across the city and the state could reopen, but he left the exact details to local officials. In New York City, the mayor, Bill de Blasio, and education officials have proposed a hybrid plan of in-person and online learning for the fall semester, for the 1.1 million students in the city’s school district, the nation’s largest. DaBreo-St. Hilaire, who has asthma, is not hugely reassured. “We really don’t know enough details yet to say it’s safe to go back,” she said.
Before the pandemic, DaBreo-St. Hilaire often sat on a round blue rug next to her students. Now she wants to know about the city’s plans for seating and social distancing. She worries about the coronavirus spreading when parents drop off and pick up their children. She wonders whether—and how—school officials will take the temperature of several hundred students when they arrive each morning. “Every child from kindergarten to third grade, they touch a lot. They wipe their nose and touch their friends,” she said. “They’re not going to understand that they can’t hug their friends, that they can’t hug their teachers. It will be very difficult for young people to social-distance.” Families have asked her whether restless kindergarteners will wear masks for hours at a time. “Parents also express concern about what happens if the children exchange masks,” she said. “How can we keep track of who came to school in a Superman mask, and who came to school in a Transformer mask?”
DaBreo-St.Hilaire, who is thirty-two years old, grew up in East Flatbush, a predominantly Black neighborhood, and has taught at P.S./I.S. 109 for the past six years. “I wanted to be able to give back to my community,” she said. “I wanted to be a true champion for children.” In 2018, she won a Sanford Teaching Award, which is given to the “most inspirational teacher” in each state. Though many parents have told her that they are uneasy about sending children back to school, she also realizes that reopening the schools will allow many parents to return to work full time. “My biggest concern is parents who are middle-class or lower-class families, and they have to go to work. They can’t pay bills if they don’t go to work,” she said. “Their concerns are real—how do we choose between keeping our children safe and making money to pay our bills?”
After the lockdown began, in March, DaBreo-St. Hilaire didn’t step outside her home for three months; one of her sisters, who is a nurse, dropped off groceries at her doorstep. Nor did she see her fiancé for three months—he is an emergency-room nurse at St. John’s Episcopal Hospital, in Far Rockaway. They were married on July 24th, with family and friends watching via Zoom.
DaBreo-St. Hilaire said that she and other teachers found remote instruction to be far more time-consuming and taxing than teaching in person. In pre-COVID-19 days, she was in her classroom from 8:00 A.M. to 2:20 P.M. When she began teaching remotely, she said, “I was up at six in the morning setting up,” and “at the end of the workday, I was calling parents and students, making sure they could get online and troubleshooting. We were actually working much longer days. Sometimes until ten or eleven at night.” One of her responsibilities is to teach kindergarteners to write with a pencil—something that is infinitely easier to do in a classroom. “Of course, in-person teaching is better than online teaching, especially for such a young age group.”
In March, not all of her students could get online, partly because they hadn’t yet received iPads from the Department of Education; some of them had to rely on cell phones for remote learning. Kindergarteners, she explained, almost always need parents alongside them at the computer, “which is really difficult.” “Unfortunately, in the middle of the pandemic, where people lost their jobs and we had people passing away, it was initially hard to get parents engaged,” she said. “I’ve had students whose parents were essential workers and first responders, and the parents may not be home. It may be an aunt or a sibling helping the students, which makes it more difficult. Sometimes it’s a grandparent. It’s difficult to support a grandparent to help get the children online.”
Some studies have found that young children are not as likely as adults to spread COVID-19. But summer camps on Long Island and in Georgia, and schools internationally, have had virus outbreaks. DaBreo-St. Hilaire asks why it has been deemed safe for teachers and students to spend full days together in a classroom while Broadway shows and movie theatres have been declared unsafe and remain closed. “It’s important that we put the children first,” she said. “We do the best we can to support scholars and their families. We want to keep ourselves safe and keep our scholars safe and their families safe.”
As a public-high-school teacher in Manhattan, John Troutman McCrann shares DaBreo-St. Hilaire’s concerns about reopening schools without adequate precautions, but he also feels “scared and worried” about what has happened to some of his students since the beginning of the pandemic. McCrann, who teaches math at Harvest Collegiate High School, described the school, situated on West Fourteenth Street, as one of the city’s “very few diverse high schools.” He said that the school has a plurality of Latino students, along with many African-American and white students. McCrann told me, “I talked to a student in June who hadn’t left his one-bedroom apartment since the quarantining began, three months earlier. It seems incredibly unhealthy. How can an adolescent body and mind not deteriorate in those circumstances?”
On one hand, McCrann, who has been a teacher for fourteen years, is eager to return to the classroom to help such students—he has seen news stories about cases of child abuse during the lockdown. But, on the other hand, he said, “I have no confidence in the city’s plan that they are going to be able to keep me and my family safe from COVID-19.” McCrann, who is thirty-seven, lives with his wife, an actor, and their seven-month-old son. He said that the city’s hybrid plan is half-baked, with far more questions unanswered than answered. Under the plan, many students would go to school one to three days a week to prevent classrooms from getting too crowded and to help insure social distancing. He said that he lost confidence in city officials last March, when he was teaching twenty-eight students in a windowless room while officials dithered over the decision to close schools, even as the number of coronavirus cases in New York soared. With a new school year beckoning, his advice to the city is that schools start with “remote learning while developing a school-based plan based on safety protocols.”
McCrann said that online learning works far better for high-school students than kindergarteners. Yet, even for older students, it’s far from ideal. After schools closed this spring, he began teaching algebra online to a hundred or so students. “Ten students learned as much as they would have [if they had still been in class], and ten didn’t learn anything—they weren’t engaging,” he said. “The eighty students in the middle learned some algebra, somewhat less than they probably would have.” McCrann said that he and several colleagues did a survey of teachers at his school, and found that a majority are “fearful and anxious” about returning to class. “They believe remote is the best option,” he said, adding, though, that there isn’t a consensus. Some teachers are open to going back, while others are more apprehensive, with some seeking accommodations to work at home. “What we’re trying to do is make a good decision in a world where there are no good choices,” McCrann said.
With many teachers apprehensive, one of the nation’s two giant teachers’ unions, the American Federation of Teachers, said in late July that it would support any local chapter that decided to strike over safety concerns connected to reopening schools. On August 4th, the powerful Chicago Teachers Union threatened to call a strike vote over what it saw as a lack of safety measures, and, the next day, Chicago officials said that the city’s schools would begin the fall semester with remote learning.
In interviews, teachers from other parts of the U.S. voiced fears similar to those of the teachers I spoke with in New York. Scott Devens, a fifty-nine-year-old second-grade teacher in Minneapolis, said he worries that his own health will be endangered if he teaches students in person. “I’m feeling a little bit anxious,” Devens, who has taught for twenty-nine years, said. In addition to coronary heart disease, he told me, “I have some health conditions like hypertension, high blood pressure, and I probably weigh more than I should. That puts me in a higher-risk category.” He was greatly relieved when the Minneapolis public schools decided to use distance learning, rather than in-person classes, when the school year resumes, on September 8th.
When schools closed last March and Devens suddenly had to teach remotely, it was a shock. “We aren’t online teachers,” he said. “We weren’t trained that way.” Each morning, he held an online meeting for his second-graders. “Every day, they’d say they missed their classmates,” he said. “I could see on their faces it was hard.” It will be hard, too, he acknowledged, to start a school year online with a new crop of second-graders who can’t meet him in person. “At least I knew the kids last year,” he said. “To get to know the kids online will take a lot of creativity.”
If Minneapolis officials decide to resume in-person classes this academic year, Devens might opt to retire. He’s still not convinced it’s safe. “I have an exit plan for retiring, which will be a financial debacle for me,” he said, estimating that he would lose over a hundred and fifty thousand dollars, because of a reduced pension and the loss of several years’ salary. Devens has placed his hopes on the emergence of a coronavirus vaccine. “I’m cautiously optimistic that we could have a school year the opposite of last year,” Devens said. “In March, instead of closing up and everyone going home, we go back with a huge celebration and a vaccine rolled out.”
In Sun Belt states, several Trump-aligned Republican governors have pushed to quickly reopen schools—and that has alarmed teachers. Christina Bustos, a sixth-grade teacher in Mesa, Arizona, said that after leaders of her school district came up with what she considered a sensible plan, they were forced to rejigger it due to demands from the governor, Doug Ducey, who called on schools to reopen quickly. She said that Ducey had been too mindful of pressure from Trump. “Our district has been real good. They said we’re only going to go back if it’s safe,” Bustos, who is forty-one, told me. “For me, the biggest concern is not necessarily me. I could bring it home to my child; I could take it home to my mother; I could give it to my brother,” who “has a lot of health issues.” Bustos said that she can’t afford to pay six thousand dollars a year in premiums to include her four-year-old son in the health insurance she receives through her job. She decided, instead, to spend that amount to send him to a public Montessori preschool, which costs more than a regular public preschool. Bustos said that her salary was just fifty-four thousand dollars a year, even though she has taught for seventeen years and has a master’s degree.
Bustos told me that it’s been hard teaching online, because many students don’t have computers or Wi-Fi. “A lot of parents in Mesa are immigrants” who work in fast food, child care, and cleaning, she explained. “They don’t speak English. They don’t really have access to computers.” She said that Trump and his Secretary of Education, Betsy DeVos, were ignoring the myriad impacts that the pandemic is having on Black and Hispanic children, and teachers as a whole. “The callousness of the two of them,” she said. “They would force Black and brown people of color to get sick. I feel they’re trying to put us in a position that does that. And, of course, they don’t care about teachers.”
Maxie Hollingsworth, a math teacher at a Houston magnet school, said that she is also alarmed by the tug-of-war over reopening schools that is playing out between state and local authorities. On July 24th, the chief executive of Harris County, which includes Houston, ordered that every school in the county conduct classes online, because of high coronavirus-infection rates across Texas. But the governor, Greg Abbott, overruled the county leader, saying that it should be up to local school boards to decide whether to open or close schools. Five days later, on July 29th, the Texas Education Agency ordered districts to reopen schools within eight weeks of the start of the academic year. “I’ve been hearing from teachers and parents. They can’t take the back and forth,” Hollingsworth said. She told me that not nearly enough thought has gone into making schools in Texas safe; she is particularly worried about her asthmatic eight-year-old daughter catching COVID-19. “In Houston, during hurricane season, can we have classes outside?” she asked. “It rains for three hours. Then it’s sunny for three hours and ninety degrees. So how can you hold classes outside?”
Sarah Ross, a high-school English teacher in Naples, Florida, said that she was deeply disturbed by the order from the Republican governor, Ron DeSantis, that all public schools begin holding in-person classes five days a week by the end of August. “I’m very nervous,” Ross told me. “Everything that we have from the research, from scientists, from the medical field has said that when we have the percentage and number of positive cases that we’ve had, it’s dangerous to go back to school.” Ross said that while other Floridians rush in and out of stores to avoid infection, high-school teachers are being ordered to spend all day in rooms with alternating classes of thirty students. “With the numbers we’ve had in Florida”—more than ten thousand new cases a day for weeks and a positive test rate above ten per cent—“and the medical field saying we have to be around five per cent [to reopen schools safely], to be going back to large gatherings in schools, that makes teachers and people in the community very nervous,” she said.


The Mail

Alec MacGillis ’ s piece on the violence plaguing dollar stores offers a depressing glimpse into economic decline in major Midwestern cities ( “ The Dollar Store Deaths , ” July 6th & 13th ) .
I lived in St. Louis from 1936 until 1963 , and was moved by the stories that MacGillis tells .
Based on my years of academic research into the economic problems that cities face , I believe that dollar stores are more often a symptom than a cause of this decline .
The way to address the issues that cities such as St. Louis @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to improve the conditions at dollar stores .
Rather , we need to look toward a guaranteed income for all , enhanced gun control , and a radical reconception of racial justice .
I congratulate Larissa MacFarquhar on her vivid , intimate portrait of the Falkland Islands and their inhabitants , particularly considering the demanding nature of her reporting ( “ An Ocean Apart , ” July 6th & 13th ) .
But I would like to call attention to her unfortunately partial treatment of the Argentine claim to sovereignty over the islands @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , which declared independence from Spain in 1816 , considers the Falklands ( or the Malvinas , as they are called in South America ) to be part of the territory that it legitimately inherited .
Buenos Aires had been the capital of a political region ruled by Spain , and although pieces peeled off , forming Paraguay , Bolivia , and Uruguay , Argentina claimed sovereignty over the remaining territory .
In the early years of European colonial expansion , assertions of sovereignty could consist of little more than a beach landing @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and , as MacFarquhar indicates , the installation of a plaque .
Possession , however , depended on military enforcement : de-facto control trumped de-jure possession .
But by the eighteen-hundreds sovereignty could mean the grouping of peoples and territories under established laws : legal right reinforced military might .
MacFarquhar writes that , in 1833 , “ the British reclaimed the islands ” —a simplistic summary of the moment when an outmanned , outgunned Argentine vessel heeded an English ship ’ s order to leave the islands .
The islands fell under @ @ @ @ @ @ @ exception of an Argentine intervention , in 1982 , has persisted .
Today , Britain largely rests its case for sovereignty on its de-facto control of the islands and the fact that current inhabitants have democratically ratified this control—whereas Argentina argues that nothing nullifies the original sin of a British occupation that it deems illegal and an absence of de-jure territorial possession .
MacFarquhar describes Argentina ’ s position , in part , as the claim that “ British forces on the islands are there to prevent islanders from escaping to Argentina ” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ reportedly made by Jorge Argüello , Argentina ’ s Ambassador to the United States .
This does not reflect Argentina ’ s formal position on the islands , which is outlined in its constitution .
MacFarquhar , who had thousands of words at her disposal , surely could have acknowledged the complexity of this territorial dispute , which the United Nations Special Committee on Decolonization considers valid enough to review annually .
The fact that she chose to overlook Argentina ’ s viewpoint makes it seem as if she preferred to avoid analyzing @ @ @ @ @ @ @ islands .
Letters should be sent with the writer ’ s name , address , and daytime phone number via e-mail to themail @ newyorker.com .
Letters may be edited for length and clarity , and may be published in any medium .
We regret that owing to the volume of correspondence we can not reply to every letter .

Dollar for Dollar
Alec MacGillis’s piece on the violence plaguing dollar stores offers a depressing glimpse into economic decline in major Midwestern cities (“The Dollar Store Deaths,” July 6th & 13th). I lived in St. Louis from 1936 until 1963, and was moved by the stories that MacGillis tells. Based on my years of academic research into the economic problems that cities face, I believe that dollar stores are more often a symptom than a cause of this decline. The way to address the issues that cities such as St. Louis and Dayton are confronting is not merely to improve the conditions at dollar stores. Rather, we need to look toward a guaranteed income for all, enhanced gun control, and a radical reconception of racial justice.
Alphonse Holtmann
Professor Emeritus, Economics
University of Miami
Coral Gables, Fla.
An Argentine Viewpoint
I congratulate Larissa MacFarquhar on her vivid, intimate portrait of the Falkland Islands and their inhabitants, particularly considering the demanding nature of her reporting (“An Ocean Apart,” July 6th & 13th). But I would like to call attention to her unfortunately partial treatment of the Argentine claim to sovereignty over the islands. MacFarquhar fails to mention that Argentina, which declared independence from Spain in 1816, considers the Falklands (or the Malvinas, as they are called in South America) to be part of the territory that it legitimately inherited. Buenos Aires had been the capital of a political region ruled by Spain, and although pieces peeled off, forming Paraguay, Bolivia, and Uruguay, Argentina claimed sovereignty over the remaining territory. In the early years of European colonial expansion, assertions of sovereignty could consist of little more than a beach landing, the assignation of a name, and, as MacFarquhar indicates, the installation of a plaque. Possession, however, depended on military enforcement: de-facto control trumped de-jure possession. But by the eighteen-hundreds sovereignty could mean the grouping of peoples and territories under established laws: legal right reinforced military might.
MacFarquhar writes that, in 1833, “the British reclaimed the islands”—a simplistic summary of the moment when an outmanned, outgunned Argentine vessel heeded an English ship’s order to leave the islands. The islands fell under British rule, which, with the exception of an Argentine intervention, in 1982, has persisted. Today, Britain largely rests its case for sovereignty on its de-facto control of the islands and the fact that current inhabitants have democratically ratified this control—whereas Argentina argues that nothing nullifies the original sin of a British occupation that it deems illegal and an absence of de-jure territorial possession.
MacFarquhar describes Argentina’s position, in part, as the claim that “British forces on the islands are there to prevent islanders from escaping to Argentina”—an outlandish statement perhaps based on comments reportedly made by Jorge Argüello, Argentina’s Ambassador to the United States. This does not reflect Argentina’s formal position on the islands, which is outlined in its constitution. MacFarquhar, who had thousands of words at her disposal, surely could have acknowledged the complexity of this territorial dispute, which the United Nations Special Committee on Decolonization considers valid enough to review annually. The fact that she chose to overlook Argentina’s viewpoint makes it seem as if she preferred to avoid analyzing counterpositions to the British claim on the islands.
Cush Rodríguez Moz
Buenos Aires, Argentina
•
Letters should be sent with the writer’s name, address, and daytime phone number via e-mail to themail@newyorker.com. Letters may be edited for length and clarity, and may be published in any medium. We regret that owing to the volume of correspondence we cannot reply to every letter.


Cartoon Caption Contest

Each week , we provide a cartoon in need of a caption .
You , the reader , submit your @ @ @ @ @ three finalists , and you vote for your favorite .
Anyone age thirteen or older @ @ @ @ @ To read the complete rules , click here .

Each week, we provide a cartoon in need of a caption. You, the reader, submit your caption here, we choose three finalists, and you vote for your favorite. Anyone age thirteen or older can enter or vote. To read the complete rules, click here.
Benjamin Schwartz Copy link to cartoon Copy link to cartoon Shop Shop


newyorker--2020-08-10--Trump Signs New Executive Order Granting Himself Unemployment Check in January

WASHINGTON ( The Borowitz Report ) —Donald J. Trump raised eyebrows on Monday by signing an executive order granting himself a million-dollar unemployment check if he leaves office in January .
Trump said that he will deserve the seven-figure check if the election is “ stolen ” by what he called “ a conspiracy between the U.S .
Postal Service and Antifa.
” In a further defense of the huge payment , Trump said , “ If I ’ m out of a job , Ivanka , Eric , and Don , Jr. , will be , too.
” The @ @ @ @ @ @ @ from congressional Democrats , as well as from the Republican senator Ben Sasse , who called it “ a steaming pile of constitutional crap.
” Unmoved , Trump called the Nebraska senator “ Poor Li ’ l Sassy ” and argued that the executive order was a “ work of genius ” that should guarantee him a place on Mt .
Rushmore .
“ Those beauties like Lincoln and Jefferson never thought of anything this smart , ” he said .
“ They would be lucky if I let my head be carved @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
”

WASHINGTON (The Borowitz Report)—Donald J. Trump raised eyebrows on Monday by signing an executive order granting himself a million-dollar unemployment check if he leaves office in January.
Trump said that he will deserve the seven-figure check if the election is “stolen” by what he called “a conspiracy between the U.S. Postal Service and Antifa.”
In a further defense of the huge payment, Trump said, “If I’m out of a job, Ivanka, Eric, and Don, Jr., will be, too.”
The executive order immediately drew howls of protest from congressional Democrats, as well as from the Republican senator Ben Sasse, who called it “a steaming pile of constitutional crap.”
Unmoved, Trump called the Nebraska senator “Poor Li’l Sassy” and argued that the executive order was a “work of genius” that should guarantee him a place on Mt. Rushmore.
“Those beauties like Lincoln and Jefferson never thought of anything this smart,” he said. “They would be lucky if I let my head be carved out of the same rock as theirs.”


newyorker--2020-08-10--In the Gendered Economy, Women Are Perpetual Debtors

Women make up nearly nine in ten nurses , more than eight in ten home health aides , and more than two-thirds of grocery-store cashiers .
In other words , they perform the lion ’ s share of the vital care that we now call “ essential ” work .
At the same time , since the start of the coronavirus pandemic , women have been laid off at an outsized rate ( a reflection of their concentration within the country ’ s lowest-compensated , least-secure jobs ) and have been forced to reduce their paid hours to look after @ @ @ @ @ @ @ their male partners .
As the kinds of labor that sustain life have grown deadlier , women have taken on more of the risk .
As paid work and the time to perform it become scarcer resources , men are retaining the better part of both .
What conclusions can we draw from the gendered dimensions of the current crisis ?
Kate Manne ’ s “ Entitled : How Male Privilege Hurts Women ” presents a paradigm that maps neatly onto life in lockdown .
Manne , a professor of philosophy at Cornell @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to give traditionally feminine goods ” —including physical and emotional care—and “ to refrain from taking traditionally masculine goods , ” such as power and authority .
These assumptions result in a society in which men “ are tacitly deemed entitled ” to much of what life has to offer , while women are perpetual debtors , their very humanity “ owed to others.
” Once again , Manne ’ s work is speaking to a moment that she could not have foreseen .
Her first book , “ Down Girl : The @ @ @ @ @ @ @ into the gathering storm of the # MeToo movement , in November , 2017 .
It was uncanny timing , and the intuitive explanatory power of Manne ’ s argument attracted a broad , enthusiastic following to a demanding academic work .
Manne proposed that misogyny “ should be understood as the ‘ law enforcement ’ branch of a patriarchal order , ” a system of punishment that swings into action whenever women violate the rules .
Sexism , by contrast , is the set of ideas that justifies the power which men @ @ @ @ @ @ @ coat ; misogyny goes on witch hunts , ” Manne writes in “ Down Girl.
” “ Sexism has a theory ; misogyny wields a cudgel.
” In “ Entitled , ” Manne turns her attention to the gendered economy that these forces defend .
If sexism is a scientist and misogyny is a cop , then the system of entitlements is a suite of financiers forever seeking ways to profit off someone else ’ s debt .
Manne applies her theory to a litany of lopsided situations , sorting them into one @ @ @ @ @ @ @ women can be punished for failing to provide sex , love , admiration , or anything else that the dominant sex considers its due ( Manne points to mass murders perpetrated by incels , who kill in protest of perceived rejection ) ; second , how women struggle to lay claim to masculine-coded powers and privileges , the Presidency being one prominent example ; and , third , how women may be denied the feminine-coded forms of care—such as attention to their pain—that they are expected to supply , not demand .
Manne @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and services in “ Down Girl , ” and her arguments in “ Entitled , ” her first book for a general audience , may at times feel overly familiar to readers already acquainted with her work .
In some cases , the new book remedies the other ’ s omissions , especially by considering transmisogyny and misogynoir , the interlocking systems of oppression that affect trans and Black women , respectively .
Manne illustrates her ideas with recent headlines and cultural touchstones , travelling smoothly from the Brett Kavanaugh hearings to the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ movie “ Gaslight ” to the short story “ Cat Person.
” Manne examines these stories in order to reveal what male entitlement costs women and non-binary people , and how we might begin to resist its demands , even as the invisible matrix of male power shapes every imaginable interaction .
Our cultural scripts , Manne argues , award “ outsize ethical importance ” to men ’ s most passing desires ; this helps to explain the pains that women take to avoid wounding men ’ s pride , whether by declining @ @ @ @ @ @ @ expertise in or by consenting to sex because it seems rude to refuse .
Sometimes , the system of entitlements is encoded in law , or reflected in its enforcement .
Writing about the depressingly durable fact that only a tiny fraction of rape cases ever goes to trial—and that hundreds of thousands of rape kits sit untested in police labs all over the country—Manne argues “ that we regard certain men as entitled to take sex from certain women.
” She cites Kavanaugh and Donald Trump as evidence that “ the most @ @ @ @ @ @ @ entitled to ‘ have ’ virtually anyone , with minimal repercussion.
” The least powerful women suffer a painful extension of this logic : “ For girls and women who are marginalized in multiple ways—in being Black , trans , or disabled , among other possibilities—the proportion of men who may rape them with impunity tends to be so large as to render their rape kit not worth testing , ” Manne writes .
The ultimate male entitlement , Manne suggests—the one on which all the others rest—is the right to be right @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a man views truth and authority as his property , a woman who contradicts him becomes a usurper .
This explains why men who silence women—whether through Internet trolling or violent abuse—are liable to see themselves as their victims ’ victims , and to feel justified in inflicting even deadly harm .
( The mirror image of men ’ s self-pity is “ himpathy , ” a term that Manne first coined in “ Down Girl ” to describe the sympathy shown to boys and men who commit acts of misogyny . )
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ versatile and useful ; like the theory of gravity , it has equal power in explaining phenomena both big and small .
But if men are bloated Jupiters , drawing everything toward themselves , the question becomes how women can resist the pull .
Manne ’ s answer is that we should be more entitled , when possible .
“ Entitlement is not a dirty word , ” she writes .
“ Entitlements can be genuine , valid , justified.
” This is far from a complete solution , as Manne acknowledges , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ feasible or safe ” for women and non-binary people to claim their due .
What ’ s more , the women best positioned to act from a sense of entitlement are rarely those who suffer most from its lack .
In a chapter about medical care , Manne describes how women in general , and Black women in particular , are often treated with skepticism in hospitals , their pain misdiagnosed as malingering or hysteria .
This “ testimonial quieting ” —the philosopher Kristie Dotson ’ s term for cases in which @ @ @ @ @ @ @ speaker as a knower ” —has no case-by-case remedy .
Black women have little recourse when doctors refuse to judge them as authorities on their own bodies , or fail to see them as deserving of care .
Ultimately , Manne writes , “ Learning what one is entitled to is—or at least should be—inextricably connected with learning what one owes to others.
” The most important entitlements can be claimed only collectively , by pressing for new laws and policies .
In a review of “ Down Girl , ” in 2017 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ wish that Manne would engage with leftist-feminist thinking , which argues that the way to “ change a society defined by ‘ asymmetrical giving ’ ” is “ through such mechanisms as family leave , childcare , healthcare , care for the elderly , equal wages.
” Society can refuse to provide essential services by compelling women to offer them free of charge .
The pandemic has made this especially evident : in the absence of schools , women across the socioeconomic spectrum have sacrificed work to tend to homebound children .
Businesswomen @ @ @ @ @ @ @ have stopped writing , and working-class women with no one to watch their kids often can ’ t leave home to work at all .
Now that a disastrous summer has guaranteed continued school closures , wealthy families are hiring private tutors or signing up to pay twenty-five thousand dollars for “ pod schools.
” Only the most fortunate women have a hope of evading the crushing obligations that a society built on entitlements seeks to impose .
Manne ’ s argument explains our predicament but offers little help in imagining a way @ @ @ @ @ @ @ consideration of caregiving is largely confined to professional women , whom she encourages to expect more of their shiftless co-parents .
That suggestion feels far from adequate in a country that has abdicated the responsibility to care for its people .
In a world in which women ’ s labor was not taken for granted , not only would husbands split the “ second shift ” with their wives but everyone would have access to decent health care , child care , and care for the elderly—and the workers who provide it would @ @ @ @ @ @ @ s most underpaid .
Those larger changes would require the creation of a political coalition that could bring together women with widely varying levels of what Manne calls “ valid ” entitlement .
It would be interesting to see Manne make room in her analysis for the ways that women who already possess some power and privilege might begin to use it on others ’ behalf .

Women make up nearly nine in ten nurses, more than eight in ten home health aides, and more than two-thirds of grocery-store cashiers. In other words, they perform the lion’s share of the vital care that we now call “essential” work. At the same time, since the start of the coronavirus pandemic, women have been laid off at an outsized rate (a reflection of their concentration within the country’s lowest-compensated, least-secure jobs) and have been forced to reduce their paid hours to look after children at nearly twice the rate of their male partners. As the kinds of labor that sustain life have grown deadlier, women have taken on more of the risk. As paid work and the time to perform it become scarcer resources, men are retaining the better part of both.
What conclusions can we draw from the gendered dimensions of the current crisis? Kate Manne’s “Entitled: How Male Privilege Hurts Women” presents a paradigm that maps neatly onto life in lockdown. Manne, a professor of philosophy at Cornell, argues that women “are expected to give traditionally feminine goods”—including physical and emotional care—and “to refrain from taking traditionally masculine goods,” such as power and authority. These assumptions result in a society in which men “are tacitly deemed entitled” to much of what life has to offer, while women are perpetual debtors, their very humanity “owed to others.”
Once again, Manne’s work is speaking to a moment that she could not have foreseen. Her first book, “Down Girl: The Logic of Misogyny,” was released into the gathering storm of the #MeToo movement, in November, 2017. It was uncanny timing, and the intuitive explanatory power of Manne’s argument attracted a broad, enthusiastic following to a demanding academic work. Manne proposed that misogyny “should be understood as the ‘law enforcement’ branch of a patriarchal order,” a system of punishment that swings into action whenever women violate the rules. Sexism, by contrast, is the set of ideas that justifies the power which men hold. “Sexism wears a lab coat; misogyny goes on witch hunts,” Manne writes in “Down Girl.” “Sexism has a theory; misogyny wields a cudgel.”
In “Entitled,” Manne turns her attention to the gendered economy that these forces defend. If sexism is a scientist and misogyny is a cop, then the system of entitlements is a suite of financiers forever seeking ways to profit off someone else’s debt. Manne applies her theory to a litany of lopsided situations, sorting them into one of three scenarios: first, how women can be punished for failing to provide sex, love, admiration, or anything else that the dominant sex considers its due (Manne points to mass murders perpetrated by incels, who kill in protest of perceived rejection); second, how women struggle to lay claim to masculine-coded powers and privileges, the Presidency being one prominent example; and, third, how women may be denied the feminine-coded forms of care—such as attention to their pain—that they are expected to supply, not demand.
Manne first posited this slanted system of goods and services in “Down Girl,” and her arguments in “Entitled,” her first book for a general audience, may at times feel overly familiar to readers already acquainted with her work. In some cases, the new book remedies the other’s omissions, especially by considering transmisogyny and misogynoir, the interlocking systems of oppression that affect trans and Black women, respectively. Manne illustrates her ideas with recent headlines and cultural touchstones, travelling smoothly from the Brett Kavanaugh hearings to the sentencing of Brock Turner, from the movie “Gaslight” to the short story “Cat Person.” Manne examines these stories in order to reveal what male entitlement costs women and non-binary people, and how we might begin to resist its demands, even as the invisible matrix of male power shapes every imaginable interaction.
Our cultural scripts, Manne argues, award “outsize ethical importance” to men’s most passing desires; this helps to explain the pains that women take to avoid wounding men’s pride, whether by declining to speak up about topics they have expertise in or by consenting to sex because it seems rude to refuse. Sometimes, the system of entitlements is encoded in law, or reflected in its enforcement. Writing about the depressingly durable fact that only a tiny fraction of rape cases ever goes to trial—and that hundreds of thousands of rape kits sit untested in police labs all over the country—Manne argues “that we regard certain men as entitled to take sex from certain women.” She cites Kavanaugh and Donald Trump as evidence that “the most powerful of powerful men are deemed sexually entitled to ‘have’ virtually anyone, with minimal repercussion.” The least powerful women suffer a painful extension of this logic: “For girls and women who are marginalized in multiple ways—in being Black, trans, or disabled, among other possibilities—the proportion of men who may rape them with impunity tends to be so large as to render their rape kit not worth testing,” Manne writes.
The ultimate male entitlement, Manne suggests—the one on which all the others rest—is the right to be right, both epistemically and morally. When a man views truth and authority as his property, a woman who contradicts him becomes a usurper. This explains why men who silence women—whether through Internet trolling or violent abuse—are liable to see themselves as their victims’ victims, and to feel justified in inflicting even deadly harm. (The mirror image of men’s self-pity is “himpathy,” a term that Manne first coined in “Down Girl” to describe the sympathy shown to boys and men who commit acts of misogyny.)
Manne’s concept of entitlement is versatile and useful; like the theory of gravity, it has equal power in explaining phenomena both big and small. But if men are bloated Jupiters, drawing everything toward themselves, the question becomes how women can resist the pull. Manne’s answer is that we should be more entitled, when possible. “Entitlement is not a dirty word,” she writes. “Entitlements can be genuine, valid, justified.” This is far from a complete solution, as Manne acknowledges, partly because it’s frequently not “feasible or safe” for women and non-binary people to claim their due. What’s more, the women best positioned to act from a sense of entitlement are rarely those who suffer most from its lack. In a chapter about medical care, Manne describes how women in general, and Black women in particular, are often treated with skepticism in hospitals, their pain misdiagnosed as malingering or hysteria. This “testimonial quieting”—the philosopher Kristie Dotson’s term for cases in which “an audience fails to identify a speaker as a knower”—has no case-by-case remedy. Black women have little recourse when doctors refuse to judge them as authorities on their own bodies, or fail to see them as deserving of care.
Ultimately, Manne writes, “Learning what one is entitled to is—or at least should be—inextricably connected with learning what one owes to others.” The most important entitlements can be claimed only collectively, by pressing for new laws and policies. In a review of “Down Girl,” in 2017, the writer Moira Weigel expressed a wish that Manne would engage with leftist-feminist thinking, which argues that the way to “change a society defined by ‘asymmetrical giving’ ” is “through such mechanisms as family leave, childcare, healthcare, care for the elderly, equal wages.” Society can refuse to provide essential services by compelling women to offer them free of charge. The pandemic has made this especially evident: in the absence of schools, women across the socioeconomic spectrum have sacrificed work to tend to homebound children. Businesswomen have turned down new clients, academics have stopped writing, and working-class women with no one to watch their kids often can’t leave home to work at all. Now that a disastrous summer has guaranteed continued school closures, wealthy families are hiring private tutors or signing up to pay twenty-five thousand dollars for “pod schools.” Only the most fortunate women have a hope of evading the crushing obligations that a society built on entitlements seeks to impose.
Manne’s argument explains our predicament but offers little help in imagining a way out of it. Frustratingly, her consideration of caregiving is largely confined to professional women, whom she encourages to expect more of their shiftless co-parents. That suggestion feels far from adequate in a country that has abdicated the responsibility to care for its people. In a world in which women’s labor was not taken for granted, not only would husbands split the “second shift” with their wives but everyone would have access to decent health care, child care, and care for the elderly—and the workers who provide it would cease to be among the nation’s most underpaid. Those larger changes would require the creation of a political coalition that could bring together women with widely varying levels of what Manne calls “valid” entitlement. It would be interesting to see Manne make room in her analysis for the ways that women who already possess some power and privilege might begin to use it on others’ behalf.


newyorker--2020-08-10--The Documentary That ICE Doesn’t Want You to See

Immigration and Customs Enforcement has been given a broad mandate to round up undocumented immigrants .
The agency is infamously @ @ @ @ @ two filmmakers managed to get unprecedented access to its employees and detention facilities .
Christina @ @ @ @ @ how they got this closeup look at ICE as it developed ever-harsher policies designed to @ @ @ @ @ Jonathan Blitzer , who covers immigration for the magazine , that “ if ICE can @ @ @ @ @ if it can send these messages .
.
.
that this is the hell you @ @ @ @ @ , then they ’ ll make these people leave.
” Clusiau and Schwarz ’ s @ @ @ @ @ is available to stream on Netflix .

Photograph Courtesy Netflix
Immigration and Customs Enforcement has been given a broad mandate to round up undocumented immigrants. The agency is infamously unwelcoming to journalists, but two filmmakers managed to get unprecedented access to its employees and detention facilities. Christina Clusiau and Shaul Schwarz discuss how they got this closeup look at ICE as it developed ever-harsher policies designed to deter immigrants. Schwarz tells Jonathan Blitzer, who covers immigration for the magazine, that “if ICE can make life difficult enough, if it can send these messages . . . that this is the hell you’re going to get, then they’ll make these people leave.”
Clusiau and Schwarz’s documentary “Immigration Nation” is available to stream on Netflix.


newyorker--2020-08-10--Trump’s Latest Executive Orders Are a Political Stunt

On Saturday evening , the Washington Post published a long article under the headline “ The Lost Days of Summer : How Trump Fell Short in Containing the Virus.
” To anybody who has been sentient for the past six months , the narrative it presented was alarmingly familiar : “ The president has been focused first and foremost on his reelection chances and reacting to the daily or hourly news cycle as opposed to making long-term strategy , with [ Mark ] Meadows ” —the White House chief of staff— “ and other senior aides indulging his impulses rather @ @ @ @ @ @ @ if to reinforce these points , Trump had held a press conference at his golf course in New Jersey just hours before the article was published .
Interrupting his latest weekend on the links , he signed four executive orders related to the coronavirus economy , which he said would extend unemployment benefits , provide American workers with a “ payroll tax holiday , ” and protect renters who are struggling to meet their payments .
Trump and his staff presented the issuance of the orders as a way to break through the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ from the two major parties are struggling to agree on a new spending bill .
The executive orders “ will take care of , pretty much , this entire situation , ” Trump said .
Even by Trump ’ s standards , that was a ludicrous claim .
Setting aside the legal issue of whether he has the authority to enact the measures he announced , it is clear that they won ’ t provide a lasting solution to any of the problems that they were supposedly meant to address .
Like so @ @ @ @ @ @ @ has taken over the past three and a half years , the orders were designed to garner some headlines and give him a short-term political boost .
So far , their main substantive impact has been to create confusion among those likely to be affected .
The big human issue at stake in the talks on Capitol Hill is the need for Americans of all regions , races , and income groups to get through a pandemic that they did nothing to bring about .
In economic terms , the point of the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ spiral as cash-strapped households and businesses are forced to slash their spending simultaneously because of the expiration of two key support programs that Congress introduced back in March : a six-hundred-dollar supplement to weekly unemployment benefits , and the Paycheck Protection Program , under which the federal government has provided forgivable loans to more than five million small businesses and not-for-profit organizations .
The expanded unemployment benefits lapsed at the end of July , and the final deadline for applications to the P.P.P .
program was Saturday .
Trump ’ s executive orders @ @ @ @ @ @ @ at all , and they only provide for a partial and temporary extension of the supplements to jobless benefits .
The White House said that it would divert forty-four billion dollars from the Federal Emergency Management Agency ’ s Disaster Relief Fund , which is usually devoted to things like hurricane recovery , and with this money provide a monthly supplement of three hundred dollars to jobless benefits .
As part of this proposal , the White House also called on the states , which administer the benefits system , to contribute another @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the total amount four hundred dollars .
A number of state officials immediately dismissed this proposal as unworkable .
( Governor Cuomo said that it was “ just an impossibility.
” ) But , even if the plan could be put into practice , it would still subject about thirty million jobless people to a substantial cut to their incomes .
And , according to some estimates , the FEMA money would last only about a month .
Then Congress would have to step in again .
The payroll-tax order also demands inspection @ @ @ @ @ @ @ directs the Treasury Department to allow employers to defer payment of the employee portion of the Social Security tax for workers who earn less than four thousand dollars every two weeks .
But the deferred taxes will still eventually come due , and they will have to be paid : no White House can unilaterally abrogate tax liabilities that Congress has enacted .
So for the order “ to have a meaningful effect , employees would need to be confident that Congress would eventually pass a tax cut to forgive the deferred tax @ @ @ @ @ @ @ economics team at Goldman Sachs noted .
“ If not , workers—or possibly their employers—would face a substantial tax bill in 2021 and might either voluntarily withhold extra taxes or save the extra pay in order to cover the expected tax bill.
” The third element of the package Trump announced also fell well short of its billing .
As part of the CARES Act , Congress introduced a hundred-and-twenty day moratorium on evictions of renters who live in buildings that have a mortgage guaranteed by the federal government .
Democrats have called @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a year and extended to all renters .
The Trump executive order doesn ’ t even extend the existing moratorium , which covers only about a third of renters .
It merely directs the Treasury and the Department of Housing and Urban Development ( HUD ) to identify funds that could be used to help people who are struggling to meet their rent , and instructs HUD to “ promote the ability of renters and homeowners to avoid eviction or foreclosure.
” Taken as a whole , it ’ s clear that these @ @ @ @ @ @ @ support for the people they were supposedly designed to help ; they also fall woefully short of providing the level of support that the economy needs .
Through year ’ s end , “ these policies look likely to provide something like $ 200bn in fiscal relief , ” the analysis by Goldman Sachs said .
That ’ s a fraction of the $ 1.5 trillion that independent economists have said is the minimum sum necessary to prevent a further downturn .
Trump ’ s economic advisers know all of this , of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ prevent two of them—Larry Kudlow and Peter Navarro—from going on the Sunday-morning talk shows and defending his actions .
Far from being a serious effort to prop up the economy , and to help the tens of millions of Americans whose livelihoods the virus has upended , the executive orders are essentially a political ploy .
And the Trump campaign is already trying to exploit it .
On Sunday , it sent a fund-raising text message to his supporters : “ I signed 4 Exec Orders to help the American People .
What @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Show them where YOU stand .
Act Now for 5X-MATCH .
”

On Saturday evening, the Washington Post published a long article under the headline “The Lost Days of Summer: How Trump Fell Short in Containing the Virus.” To anybody who has been sentient for the past six months, the narrative it presented was alarmingly familiar: “The president has been focused first and foremost on his reelection chances and reacting to the daily or hourly news cycle as opposed to making long-term strategy, with [Mark] Meadows”—the White House chief of staff—“and other senior aides indulging his impulses rather than striving to impose discipline.”
As if to reinforce these points, Trump had held a press conference at his golf course in New Jersey just hours before the article was published. Interrupting his latest weekend on the links, he signed four executive orders related to the coronavirus economy, which he said would extend unemployment benefits, provide American workers with a “payroll tax holiday,” and protect renters who are struggling to meet their payments. Trump and his staff presented the issuance of the orders as a way to break through the deadlock on Capitol Hill, where negotiators from the two major parties are struggling to agree on a new spending bill. The executive orders “will take care of, pretty much, this entire situation,” Trump said.
Even by Trump’s standards, that was a ludicrous claim. Setting aside the legal issue of whether he has the authority to enact the measures he announced, it is clear that they won’t provide a lasting solution to any of the problems that they were supposedly meant to address. Like so many of the unilateral actions that Trump has taken over the past three and a half years, the orders were designed to garner some headlines and give him a short-term political boost. So far, their main substantive impact has been to create confusion among those likely to be affected.
The big human issue at stake in the talks on Capitol Hill is the need for Americans of all regions, races, and income groups to get through a pandemic that they did nothing to bring about. In economic terms, the point of the spending bill is to prevent another downward spiral as cash-strapped households and businesses are forced to slash their spending simultaneously because of the expiration of two key support programs that Congress introduced back in March: a six-hundred-dollar supplement to weekly unemployment benefits, and the Paycheck Protection Program, under which the federal government has provided forgivable loans to more than five million small businesses and not-for-profit organizations. The expanded unemployment benefits lapsed at the end of July, and the final deadline for applications to the P.P.P. program was Saturday.
Trump’s executive orders don’t address the P.P.P. at all, and they only provide for a partial and temporary extension of the supplements to jobless benefits. The White House said that it would divert forty-four billion dollars from the Federal Emergency Management Agency’s Disaster Relief Fund, which is usually devoted to things like hurricane recovery, and with this money provide a monthly supplement of three hundred dollars to jobless benefits. As part of this proposal, the White House also called on the states, which administer the benefits system, to contribute another hundred dollars to the supplement, making the total amount four hundred dollars. A number of state officials immediately dismissed this proposal as unworkable. (Governor Cuomo said that it was “just an impossibility.”) But, even if the plan could be put into practice, it would still subject about thirty million jobless people to a substantial cut to their incomes. And, according to some estimates, the FEMA money would last only about a month. Then Congress would have to step in again.
The payroll-tax order also demands inspection. Starting on September 1st, it directs the Treasury Department to allow employers to defer payment of the employee portion of the Social Security tax for workers who earn less than four thousand dollars every two weeks. But the deferred taxes will still eventually come due, and they will have to be paid: no White House can unilaterally abrogate tax liabilities that Congress has enacted. So for the order “to have a meaningful effect, employees would need to be confident that Congress would eventually pass a tax cut to forgive the deferred tax liabilities,” an analysis from the economics team at Goldman Sachs noted. “If not, workers—or possibly their employers—would face a substantial tax bill in 2021 and might either voluntarily withhold extra taxes or save the extra pay in order to cover the expected tax bill.”
The third element of the package Trump announced also fell well short of its billing. As part of the CARES Act, Congress introduced a hundred-and-twenty day moratorium on evictions of renters who live in buildings that have a mortgage guaranteed by the federal government. Democrats have called for this moratorium to be expanded to a year and extended to all renters. The Trump executive order doesn’t even extend the existing moratorium, which covers only about a third of renters. It merely directs the Treasury and the Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD) to identify funds that could be used to help people who are struggling to meet their rent, and instructs HUD to “promote the ability of renters and homeowners to avoid eviction or foreclosure.”
Taken as a whole, it’s clear that these executive orders wouldn’t provide adequate support for the people they were supposedly designed to help; they also fall woefully short of providing the level of support that the economy needs. Through year’s end, “these policies look likely to provide something like $200bn in fiscal relief,” the analysis by Goldman Sachs said. That’s a fraction of the $1.5 trillion that independent economists have said is the minimum sum necessary to prevent a further downturn.
Trump’s economic advisers know all of this, of course, although that didn’t prevent two of them—Larry Kudlow and Peter Navarro—from going on the Sunday-morning talk shows and defending his actions. Far from being a serious effort to prop up the economy, and to help the tens of millions of Americans whose livelihoods the virus has upended, the executive orders are essentially a political ploy. And the Trump campaign is already trying to exploit it. On Sunday, it sent a fund-raising text message to his supporters: “I signed 4 Exec Orders to help the American People. What did the Swamp do? NOTHING. Show them where YOU stand. Act Now for 5X-MATCH.”


newyorker--2020-08-10--Trump Accuses Biden of Dragging out V.P. Search Instead of Picking First Clown Who Says Yes

WASHINGTON ( The Borowitz Report ) —Donald J. Trump ridiculed Joe Biden on Monday for dragging out his search for a running mate instead of “ picking the first clown who says yes.
” “ Sleepy Joe is wasting time with all this vetting , ” Trump told reporters .
“ Just pick someone who ’ s totally desperate.
” “ Find an elected official who doesn ’ t have a chance in hell of getting reëlected in his home state , ” he said .
“ He ’ ll be overjoyed that you saved him from the junk heap.
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ should choose a Vice-Presidential candidate “ who ’ s so hopeless , he couldn ’ t get a real job if he tried.
” “ The more pathetic he is , the better , ” the President said .
Trump noted that choosing a candidate who is “ terrified he ’ ll never work again ” has major benefits if one ultimately makes it to the White House .
“ He ’ ll spend the next four years sucking up to you like you wouldn ’ t believe , ” Trump said .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
”

WASHINGTON (The Borowitz Report)—Donald J. Trump ridiculed Joe Biden on Monday for dragging out his search for a running mate instead of “picking the first clown who says yes.”
“Sleepy Joe is wasting time with all this vetting,” Trump told reporters. “Just pick someone who’s totally desperate.”
“Find an elected official who doesn’t have a chance in hell of getting reëlected in his home state,” he said. “He’ll be overjoyed that you saved him from the junk heap.”
Additionally, Trump said, one should choose a Vice-Presidential candidate “who’s so hopeless, he couldn’t get a real job if he tried.”
“The more pathetic he is, the better,” the President said.
Trump noted that choosing a candidate who is “terrified he’ll never work again” has major benefits if one ultimately makes it to the White House.
“He’ll spend the next four years sucking up to you like you wouldn’t believe,” Trump said. “It’s a beautiful thing.”


newyorker--2020-08-11--Our Gym Is Committed to the Health and Money of Our Members

Hey , we missed you !
We know that you might have some reservations about coming back to the gym , but , trust us , we ’ re working in accordance with local laws and regulations to meet the challenge .
Rest assured—Padded Room Fitness is more committed than ever to the health and money of our members .
Our dedication to wellness starts before you even walk in the door .
We updated our mobile app , so you can sign our mandatory Coronavirus Self-Declaration Form without unnecessary contact .
Don ’ t forget to update your billing @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ re fiscally well enough to exercise .
We encourage anyone experiencing fever symptoms to sign up for a personal-training session to work on your body-temperature goals .
All club members must wear a mask upon entering the lobby and throughout the duration of their first set .
Hand-sewn masks with “ Sweat Is Just COVID Leaving the Body ” embroidered on them are available for purchase .
You might notice that we ’ ve outfitted the locker rooms with state-of-the-art cleaning pods that shoot water down from the ceiling .
Feel free @ @ @ @ @ @ @ water runs hot !
While on the gym floor , social distancing is absolutely essential .
We ’ ve roped off machines to give you some breathing room .
Yes , that means longer wait times for equipment .
Please be patient and allow paid-in-full members to finish their sets first .
Your workout might take a little longer than usual , so be sure to check out our modified hours of operation .
We ’ re closing up a bit earlier , just in case the virus spreads nocturnally .
It ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ on deep cleaning .
We ’ ve onboarded a team of air-filtration specialists who can hold their breath for a really long time .
They ’ ll breathe in contaminated air and walk it outside to exhale .
Senior staffers will also regularly spray mirrors with disinfectant to blur your face out of any selfies .
We know that you might not want everyone to know you ’ re back .
We get it .
That ’ s why we ’ re instituting a totally anonymous member-referral program .
Discretion is a form @ @ @ @ @ @ @ come back ?
No worries .
We ’ ll gladly freeze your account until you change your mind .
Our “ freeze rate ” is the same as a regular rate , except we keep your money in a cold vault .
If you ’ d like to cancel your account , just e-mail the guy who ’ s always at the front desk , constantly taking calls .
Aiden or Adam .
He ’ ll take care of it .
We ’ re still in the process of finalizing these new policies @ @ @ @ @ @ @ hear your feedback .
Leave your comments and signature in the liability waiver , attached .
Please note that owing to limited staffing amid layoffs , we will not be able to reply to any of your concerns .

Hey, we missed you! We know that you might have some reservations about coming back to the gym, but, trust us, we’re working in accordance with local laws and regulations to meet the challenge. Rest assured—Padded Room Fitness is more committed than ever to the health and money of our members.
Our dedication to wellness starts before you even walk in the door. We updated our mobile app so you can sign our mandatory Coronavirus Self-Declaration Form without unnecessary contact. Don’t forget to update your billing preferences so we know that you’re fiscally well enough to exercise.
We encourage anyone experiencing fever symptoms to sign up for a personal-training session to work on your body-temperature goals.
All club members must wear a mask upon entering the lobby and throughout the duration of their first set. Hand-sewn masks with “Sweat Is Just COVID Leaving the Body” embroidered on them are available for purchase.
You might notice that we’ve outfitted the locker rooms with state-of-the-art cleaning pods that shoot water down from the ceiling. Feel free to use them, but be careful—the water runs hot!
While on the gym floor, social distancing is absolutely essential. We’ve roped off machines to give you some breathing room. Yes, that means longer wait times for equipment. Please be patient and allow paid-in-full members to finish their sets first.
Your workout might take a little longer than usual, so be sure to check out our modified hours of operation. We’re closing up a bit earlier, just in case the virus spreads nocturnally. It’ll also give us a head start on deep cleaning. We’ve onboarded a team of air-filtration specialists who can hold their breath for a really long time. They’ll breathe in contaminated air and walk it outside to exhale.
Senior staffers will also regularly spray mirrors with disinfectant to blur your face out of any selfies. We know that you might not want everyone to know you’re back. We get it. That’s why we’re instituting a totally anonymous member-referral program. Discretion is a form of sanitization.
Still not ready to come back? No worries. We’ll gladly freeze your account until you change your mind. Our “freeze rate” is the same as a regular rate, except we keep your money in a cold vault. If you’d like to cancel your account, just e-mail the guy who’s always at the front desk, constantly taking calls. Aiden or Adam. He’ll take care of it.
We’re still in the process of finalizing these new policies, and we’d love to hear your feedback. Leave your comments and signature on the liability waiver, attached. Please note that owing to limited staffing amid layoffs, we will not be able to reply to any of your concerns.


newyorker--2020-08-11--Madhuri Vijay Reads “You Are My Dear Friend”

Madhuri Vijay reads her story from the August 17 , 2020 , issue of the magazine .
Vijay is the @ @ @ @ @ The Far Field , ” which won the J.C.B .
Prize for Literature in 2019 @

Photograph by Manvi Rao
Madhuri Vijay reads her story from the August 17, 2020, issue of the magazine. Vijay is the author of the novel “The Far Field,” which won the J.C.B. Prize for Literature in 2019.