Local opinion: Suffering from whiplash, 50 years later

The following is the opinion

and analysis of the writer:

Dear elder U.S. senators and congressmen,

Usually, whiplash happens suddenly and without warning. Mine took 50 years.

I first recognized the signs when an announcement about Earth Day floated across my screen. I remembered the first one in April 1970. We were all so young then, weren’t we?

Making posters and marching next to you, we thought we’d stop the skies from filling with factory smoke. Clean air mattered. Yet today, you say climate change is non-existent.

Your hair was longer then. Some said you looked like a girl. You said you didn’t care, we were all the same under our tie-dies and bell bottoms. But being trans or queer is something to ban now.

You were there in our dorm rooms late at night. You didn’t always wear protection. It was the age of Aquarius, free love, but you didn’t check to ensure there was “No Child Left Behind.” Don’t deny it. If I contacted every woman you slept with, plenty would say you left their beds without a care in the world, even though dropping out of college to become a parent would have been incredibly inconvenient for your political career. Yet today, you insist on women carrying unwanted pregnancies to term.

Open access to health records might reveal that your sisters, girlfriends, daughters, mothers, mistresses, and wives had abortions. Be careful what you wish for — or vote for. Their feedback might be deafening.

It’s funny. I remember going to your house and meeting your grandparents. They told stories of coming from “the old country.” They were proud immigrants who only wanted better for your parents, for you. But I see that that’s not OK for others now.

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How many of your ancestors immigrated to America without a visa, passport, or green card back in their day? Ancestry research can uncover the lack of them. Unless you are indigenous, we all came here as uninvited. Before you judge, make sure your own history does not have a different tale to tell.

And wasn’t that you with a poster of Cesar Chavez on the wall of your first apartment? JFK, RFK (the first one), and MLK were your heroes. You joined the Peace Corps. You fought for civil rights. You believed in a unified world made better through agencies like USAID. Yet you allow cuts that leave thousands without access to education, medication, and nutrition.

Remember backpacking together, appreciating the beauty of our national parks? You understood the importance of preserving these lands. Protecting endangered species for the next generation was a priority. Yet today you sell public lands for profit without thought to the legacy you leave.

With the Vietnam War already raging, we either protested or served back then. It was our privilege to decide. Our college yearbooks have photos of us at sit-ins and in uniform. Yet your peace-loving soul squashes protesters today while you deny military support to Ukraine and cut Veterans’ support. You can’t have it both ways.

When you became a young parent, you sent your children off to the public school around the corner. You knew they would be taught even if they had a disability, and fed even if you didn’t always have lunch money. You were glad the school received extra funds because you lived in a neighborhood with extra challenges and felt desegregation helped everyone achieve.

Yet you pretend “School Choice” is an option for parents without transportation, who are in survival mode. It isn’t. It just ensures your child is taught only what you think is correct, with those who look and think the same — at the general public’s expense.

You enjoyed school, free of shootings. Yet today, you protect Second Amendment rights over your grandchildren’s safety — even over reasonable restrictions.

Today, you make posting “The Ten Commandments” required in schools. Yet you support a President with a record of prostitution, bankruptcies, and payoffs. I’m confused by that.

Yearbook photos, newspaper archives, public records, and ancestry research document our core values. Will your voting record sustain the scrutiny?

I knew you once upon a time. I have whiplash now.

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