There is no crime, absolutely none, that cannot be condoned when ‘our’ side commits it. Even if one does not deny that the crime has happened, even if one knows that it is exactly the same crime as one has condemned in some other case, even if one admits in an intellectual sense that it is unjustified — still one cannot feel that it is wrong. Loyalty is involved, and so pity ceases to function.
George Orwell – Notes on Nationalism
When people ask why I moved to England the invariable reply goes something like: I believe that a wealthy nation should provide free basic health care to all citizens. I moved to a place where that is true. This is the version I provide whether talking to a national broadcast audience, a dinner party, or a border guard.
The truth is of course more complicated and harder to address. There are fragments that might make a larger picture – the fact that I was fifteen years old when I started volunteering in a veterans home. The fact that, because basic health education was banned in my high school and condoms were not easy to obtain, I took on a personal crusade to distribute hundreds in the provincial school and town. The fact that as an undergrad I was encouraged to become a writer, but chose to study public policy and work at the health department.
The fact that I believed it was my personal responsibility to force an institution of higher education to fully implement the Americans with Disabilities Act within weeks of passing, and after a year of activism was hired by the school to write the policy. The fact that while many of my peers were partying, I took an advanced degree in public administration. The fact that I went on to a career implementing federal civil rights laws.
Even after I stopped working for the government I retained my essential commitment to service. I am not partisan to any political party; I am instead wedded to a larger idea of justice. This, to me, is mostly about health, safety, and civil rights. I would vote for any politician who has a track record of commitment to public infrastructures that protect the citizenry.
Since September of 2000 I have watched in appalled disbelief as the institutions that should protect my fellow citizens have been systematically dismantled. I have said, and honestly believe, that letting our activism focus on the war distracts us from the fact that all of the systems we have counted on are being reduced or eradicated.
Because I still have many friends who work in government I hear about all of the subtle and lethal changes – it is quite possible to destroy an entrenched public policy (like equal rights for people with disabilities) by simply refusing to issue the official opinions on implementation of rules.
For years I’ve rattled on about the fact that critical disaster relief services are underfunded or nonexistent. If my nation truly wishes to defend against terrorism, it should surely have adequate plans in place for mass evacuations — and should obviously have sufficient supplies of firefighters, ambulance drivers, nurses, and community police officers.
Not to mention all of the equipment, supplies, drugs, and blood that might be required if another American city is attacked. The fact that we do not is very difficult for me to understand; do the members of the radical right think that their own children will be somehow magically impervious to disaster?
I grew up in a military town. When I was poor and desperate I married and became a military spouse. I have shopped at the commissary. I have used military hospitals. I have supported our armed forces, absolutely without question, even when I did not intellectually agree with their assignments. I have been critical of base closures, and have consistently opposed reductions in force — because a standing army is central to national security.
When it became clear that our forces, after many reductions, were so stretched that we could not viably fight overseas without involving the National Guard, I railed endlessly to whoever would listen. Because the National Guard is supposed to protect our shores; the National Guard is supposed to be around to protect us in times of national crisis. They cannot do so if they have been sent elsewhere.
I asked, again and again, What if we have an earthquake? Flood? Wild fires?
It is a matter of simple math to realize that if you send a third of your available military overseas, a third are ramping up to go, and a third are new recruits (if that is even true these days – recruitment is down), you are asking for trouble.
Watching as public health and safety systems were slowly eroded made my heart hurt, literally. I had more panic attacks in 2003 than I had in the previous ten years combined – because I can in fact imagine what it looks like when the world falls apart.
But I did not want to move away, even when the opportunity was presented. Although it is not necessary for me to live in the United States to continue my work (I can write anywhere), it seemed somehow wrong to leave, so long as I was safe.
The critical moment for me came when veterans services, which are by all accounts woefully inadequate, were cut once again. When I heard the news it honestly felt like my brain buckled.
If those of our citizens who should be most honored are no longer entitled to the basic services their valor has earned, that single fact has more meaning than anything else. The United States, personified by our presidential administration and all the elected politicians who consented to this travesty, made a clear statement. Of faith, if you will.
I knew, in a visceral and often painful way, that the next disaster would be a colossal tragedy. I left the United States because I was frightened and weary. I knew that I might not survive a significant natural or man-made disaster without a unified public safety system in place. I knew that even if I could, it would hurt too much to watch my neighbors die.
This is a classic immigration story: my family moved because another country offered us greater material security. In doing so we’re no more selfish than any of the people who streamed out of Europe in times of trouble to create the United States, my own great-grandparents included. The main difference is our destination.
My country does not want me – no matter what my accomplishments I am just another anonymous vulnerable person, along with all the veterans, the elderly, the poor, the sick, the disenfranchised.
What happened in New Orleans is, simply, criminal. There is no way to excuse the obscene and immoral way that our nation failed to protect its citizens. I am shocked, but not surprised, that anyone would try to argue otherwise.