Support Public Schools in Washington DC

My kids, Ella and Sam, attend Capital City Public Charter School in Washington, DC. The school was founded by public school teachers and parents 10 years ago because they were fed up with the lame, bureaucratic, poorly performing District of Columbia Public Schools (DCPS).

Almost 30,000 children attend charter schools in the District of Columbia. Some charters, like Capital City, are among the finest schools in the city, offering kids a world-class public education in the inner city. So many people said it could never be done.  They were wrong. True enough, there are some charters that aren't doing so well, but the really bad ones have their charters pulled by the Board that oversees these schools. They aren't permitted to linger for years on end, like lousy DCPS schools.

While DCPS schools have seen some improvement over the last couple of years, and we hope to see that improvement continue (because we'd like to be able to send our kids to DCPS schools too), charters have to do more with less because they receive less from the city in per-pupil facilities funding: $2,800 vs. $3,200.

Charters offer an excellent choice to DC parents and are in large part responsible for keeping middle class, and upper middle class white, black, Asian, and Latino families in this city and part of the tax base that helps provide social services to low income families.

For more information, go to http://www.befairdc.org and http://www.focusdc.org.

Here are three videos from the organization Fight for Children, which supports public education in DC. The organization awarded $100,000 to Capital City this year. The children in the videos are from Capital City and our "sister" school, E.L. Haynes Public Charter School.

Look real close and you'll see my son, Sam, in the videos. (He's the one with Queen Latifah at Fight for Children's gala :o) )

Fight For Children - What do you Dream of Being when you Grow Up? from Blue Sky Films on Vimeo.


Fight For Children - Why is an Education Important? from Blue Sky Films on Vimeo.


Fight For Children - Why Should We Give Back? from Blue Sky Films on Vimeo.

Pride, Part 2

To paraphrase James Taylor, let us now direct our thoughts to Martin Luther King, Jr.

For me, as a Jew, I look to Dr. King as a Jewish and Christian prophet. His message and actions were so rooted in the ideals of Judaism -- especially the concept of tikkun olam ( תיקון עולם healing, repairing, and transforming the world) -- that he must be recognized as an important figure in American Jewish life, on par with his friend Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel.

I was reminded of the King-Heschel connection at services this past Shabbat when our Rabbi, Sid Schwartz, noted that this weekend was not only dedicated to celebrating Dr. King's birthday, but was also Rabbi Heschel's yahrtzeit, the annual memorial of his death. What's more, Dr. King was assassinated just prior to his leaving Memphis for New York, where he was to celebrate Passover with Rabbi Heschel. (Photo: Heschel, King and other religions leaders marching through Arlington National Cemetery in protest of the Vietnam War.)

The values of King and Heschel have permeated my work since graduating from law school a bit more than 20 years ago. I was something of a late-comer to their teachings, not really appreciating them until I began reading Tikkun magazine in the late 1980s, which was introduced to me through an article distributed in a law school course on jurisprudence. The article was not about King or Heschel -- I actually think it was on labor theory -- but I thought the idea of a truly left-wing Jewish magazine was intriguing. I'd never seen one. Soon thereafter, I picked up a copy of the magazine at a local bookstore and discovered that its philosophical bent was predicated on the teachings of Heschel who, in turn, had been so influenced by King. I became an avid Tikkun reader for about the next five years, at which point I felt that the magazine had taken a turn for the worse in terms of the quality of its articles and, frankly, what seemed to be the increasing domination by it's editor, Michael Lerner.

So that's how I learned of Heschel and his King connection, and that was all it took for me to adopt MLK as an American Jewish prophet and to decide that, to the degree I could, I would try to fashion my words and deeds from there on in ways he'd appreciate. I don't think I differ very much from Dr. King in terms of values. Perhaps the only area of disgreement regards the use of nonviolence. It certainly has its time and place, but violence also has its time and place. As President Obama noted recently in a speech, nonviolence would not have stopped the Nazis.

Which, of course, brings me to President Obama. For this week, we also celebrate the completion of his first year in office. I use the word "celebrate" intentionally. Yes, this has been a difficult year for the United States and the President. However, the Obama presidency must still be regarded as a Big Deal and a cause for rejoicing: Dr. King paved the way for Barack Obama's presidency. The Obama victory in November 2008 will be regarded as a watershed moment in American history. Nobody would disagree with that, and even the most cynical person and Obama opponent can appreciate the meaning of his victory in American political and sociocultural history.

But, of course, I will go even further: The Obama presidency is to be celebrated because it will be regarded as a transformative moment in American politics and policymaking. This first year has been extraordinarily productive and, in the midst of cleaning up the mess he was left by the prior administration and its corporatist minions, he has laid the groundwork for an equally productive next three years.

I believe that much of this groundwork is difficult for most people to see or comprehend because we are in a period of massive economic tumult and political shifting. We do not trust our political leaders. We are frightened and cowering.

But when we step back to take the long view, which President Obama is all about, the outline of the foundation he is building for far-reaching, progressive social change becomes clearer . His vision is quite clear: Health care, energy, and education. Three public goods. Yes, financial regulatory reform has become a major domestic priority, and there's a whole world of foreign policy challenges, but the mantra remains HC.E.E.

On health care, we all know the story and we'll have a good, new law within the next few weeks that will be the first step to transforming our health care system. On energy, bills have been introduced in Congress and we'll have to see how that comes out, but the reality is that the bills are merely window dressing for a transformation of the energy sector that is already well underway. Don't forget that the United States Government, thanks to President Obama, is a majority shareholder in General Motors, which is investing millions in clean energy new cars. This, in turn, has Ford doing the same, and I imagine that Chrylser is not far behind. European car companies are getting on board and the Japanese and Koreans are way ahead. So, it's really not just about a new cap and trade law or carbon tax -- certainly those would help and I think we'll likely get something like that over the next year or so -- but, about a different way of thinking about energy and the environment and the government's role in bringing about the transformation. On education, the Obama administration has devoted an unprecedented sum of money in the hundreds of millions to transform the way we invest in, and evaluate public education. The nation's largest teachers union, just last week, announced that it's getting on board with the administration's approach to teacher evaluation which emphasizes both qualitative and quantitative performance management measures. That is huge.

There's lots of other positive stuff happening because of President Obama, but that's really not what I want to highlight. What I want to highlight is that what President Obama is doing is putting into practice what Dr. King was talking about. Moving our recalcitrant, frightened, and cynical society toward Beloved Community.

I know our "community" may not feel very beloved now, but I'd urge us, again, to take the long view and understand the vision. There will be many problems on the road ahead, and we will not agree with everything President Obama does or says. I certainly don't. Unlike Dr. King, President Obama lives in a different environment and has a different job. He is a different man. However, like Dr. King, President Obama is a serious, trustworthy man of good character and with a vision of where he wants to lead his community. He has incorporated Dr. King's teachings
into his worldview. This is what keeps me hopeful.

And so, today, let us turn our thoughts to Martin Luther King, Jr. and how we can honor him beyond this day by contributing to Beloved Community.

(Photo of Dr. King by Addison Scurlock of Scurlock Studios, Washington, D.C.)

Pride, Part 1

Love and Death in 2009 and 2010

It is the last day of the year, so I am compelled to write about what was, and what is to come.

My last post was four months ago, and that is very hard to believe. The autumn of 2009 was a blur. Basically, I became so busy with work and everything else that I missed the autumn -- one of my favorite times of year. Occasionally, I would look up from my computer, peer out of my office window, and notice that the leaves had changed color, or that they'd fallen off the trees, and that it was getting colder. I went for no long autumn walks. The Mrs. and I were supposed to meet up in New Orleans for some fun in early November, but she came down with the flu and couldn't make the trip. Insult added to the injury inflicted by her own fairly brutal work schedule. And, oh yes, the national health-care reform "debate" droned on, depressingly.

My own time was well-spent -- I was able to accomplish many good things at work and at least to keep up with things at home -- so I'm not complaining; but it was so busy that my rhythm was knocked completely off-kilter. I was under stress and in a bad mood much of the time. I stopped exercising; didn't have time to go to my yoga class; didn't eat particularly well, and by mid-December I was running on fumes. I've taken a break and it's been nice.

As for 2009 as a whole, however, there were definitely some highlights. The inauguration of Barack Obama and, a few weeks later, his meeting at Capital City Public Charter School with my 11-year old son and (yes, there's more) he and Mrs. Obama reading to my 8-year old daughter's second grade class. It really was all down hill from there.
Just kidding: Other highlights included a couple of wonderful weeks in Bayside, Maine during the summer; taking the kids to NYC for their first time and seeing Mary Poppins on Broadway; continuing to play good music with the band and at shul; and seeing Steely Dan in concert in a small venue. Also, during the autumn blur, I took my son to the bar mitzvah of one of his camp friends from New Jersey and we made a side trip to the town of my youth: Livingston. We visited My Old School(s) and the two houses I'd lived in, one of which is now a law office and the other of which is still occupied by the man my parents sold the home to in 1978. It was Halloween on the day we visited. We rang the doorbell and, luckily, Tom was at home. I said "trick or treat" and he remembered me immediately. The three of us had a terrific visit. It's really a story that deserves a separate post, so perhaps I'll do that at some point. Suffice it to say, it was extraordinarily mind-blowing for all involved. My family made and distributed homemade lunches for 60 homeless people on Christmas, as we've done for the past few years. Workwise, as I said, I was able to get a lot of good things done as a judicial educator in my favorite subject matter area -- offender reentry -- and, in that regard, I was able to "move the ball down the field" quite a bit further.

Several well-known people who I admired passed away in 2009. I've already written about Ted Kennedy, but another was the great jazz guitarist Les Paul. Les Paul was to jazz and rock music what Thomas Edison was to electricity; what Albert Einstein was to physics; what Sigmund Freud was to psychology and psychiatry. He was the inventor of the solid body electric guitar and he was a hell of a player too. I'm a drummer and I noodle some on the acoustic guitar, but growing up, even I understood Les Paul's importance. When I was a teenager playing in all kinds of rock bands, the guitarists played either a Gibson "Les Paul" solid body (or, more commonly, a knock-off) or a Fender Stratocaster. So if you loved rock music, and especially if you played it, you understood the importance of Les Paul. Indeed, I and millions of other rock fans and musicians understood that a "Les Paul" guitar was an instrument that, when expertly wielded by the likes of Led Zeppelin's Jimmy Page, could make sounds that would send us to extraordinary emotional places: anger, joy, tears, laughter, ecstasy. The Les Paul guitar is (along with the Stratocaster) the Stradivarius of electric guitars. So, when Les died this year at the ripe old age of 94, I took it pretty hard. Yet another chink knocked out of the armor of my evermore quickly fading youth. Ironically, the "Les Paul" guitar is far better appreciated in the world of rock 'n roll than in jazz, and I'm much more of a rocker than a jazzman. So, I wanted to take this opportunity to remember and to say "thank you" to Les Paul before 2009 becomes history: Thank you, Les!

Like everyone else, I do not know, precisely, what 2010 will bring. I do know that my son will have his bar mitzvah and that we will travel to Israel and Greece during the summer -- a pilgrimage of sorts. Work will be busy, as usual, but hopefully less crazed than last fall. My music will continue with the band and with others. Health care reform legislation will be enacted into law and President Obama will have his work cut out to maintain his congressional majority.

I have some worries, but nothing out of the ordinary for a middle-aged man. The usual stuff: money, relationships, time, gray hairs, my health and the health of my loved ones.

Most of all, in 2010, I want to regain my rhythm.

See you next year!

Shower the People

Senator Edward M. Kennedy died last week. The outpouring of grief and remembrance has been overwhelming. Twenty thousand people filed through the JFK library in Boston to pay their respects. They waited in line for hours just to pass the flag-draped casket of the senior senator from Massachusetts. I remember that something similar occurred when Reagan died a few years ago; though, frankly, the public response to Reagan's passing, while huge, did not seem as spontaneous and heartfelt.

Compared to Kennedy.... well, I was going to say that, compared to Kennedy, Reagan was a flash in the pan but, certainly, that is not the case. He changed the system so much for the worse and to such a degree that we are still dealing with the mess and, it seems at least, that it will be almost impossible to overcome. If the damage can be undone, it will take years.

Kennedy and Reagan were a package. The former was the antithesis of the latter politically, though my understanding is that the two men became very friendly over the years. That is a concept that I just cannot understand. The two had diametrically opposing views of the role of government, and thousands of people were harmed by Reagan's nonsense. Yet Kennedy became his friend.

I'm not sure what that means. On one hand, it could mean that they respected each other as political giants, as ideological leaders of their parties, and as people who meant well and were each trying to do the right thing in their own ways. On the other hand, it could mean that to each of them -- both, men of privilege and wealth -- politics was a mere business like any other, separated (as they were) from those whom it most affected. It seems to me as though politicians of the stature of Kennedy and Reagan do, in fact, seem to be above the fray and above the law. Still, although Kennedy was a highly imperfect liberal, like the old negro spiritual says, "If we ever needed the Lord before, we sure do need him now."

Edward M. Kennedy served in the U.S. Senate for 46 years -- my entire life so far, plus one year. That's a remarkable thing to consider. For 46 years he was part of the national political process and he had so much influence over areas of public policy that matter to people's every day lives: Labor, education, health care, civil rights, among many others. Compare him to a guy like Senator Robert Byrd, who's served in the Senate even longer than Kennedy but really has done very little for folks outside of his own state of West Virginia. When Senator Byrd passes on eventually, I doubt very seriously whether his memorials will attract more than a few thousand attendees, if that. I suppose we'll have to just wait and see.

Kennedy was able both to bring home the bacon and be a national leader on issues that are important to average people. By all accounts he was a lovely, warm man not consumed by his own ego or status. He was generous with his time, his money, and his professional role. He and his extended family are thoroughly dedicated to public service and have an attitude about it that is very similar to my own. He was an old fashioned, unabashed liberal. I don't know if there are any left int he Senate. Barbara Mikulski? Perhaps. Al Franken? We'll see. Barbara Boxer? Certainly. A handful, perhaps. But NONE who will EVER be of Kennedy's stature or have a similar capacity to do the People's business so effectively.

So, it is a loss. Kennedy's family came to the U.S. from Ireland in the late 19th century. They weren't wealthy and, when they came here, they made lots of money very quickly in part as bootleggers during Prohibition. It was just incredible hard-nosed ambition, smarts, savvy, and hard work. The Kennedy children -- Ted's generation -- were able to take their father's ambition, his private vice, and turn it into public virtue. A familial tradition of public service, whether in government, non-profits, or journalism that is unmatched.

I hope the now-vacant Senate seat that had been occupied for over 50 years by a Kennedy (Ted's brother John had it before him) will be filled by another Kennedy. I just think it's important symbolically to have a Kennedy in the Senate who can carry the left wing torch for the next 20 or 30 years in a way that only a Kennedy can. I would like to be able to grow old and die with a liberal Kennedy still in the U.S. Senate, fighting the good fight.

Thank you, Senator Edward M. Kennedy.

Artomatic, Love, and the Exploding Brain

My wife and I celebrated our 18th wedding anniversary this weekend by attending the 10th annual D.C. Artomatic art exhibition. We're talking about something like 275,000 square feet of art gallery and performance space featuring some amazing (and some awful) visual art and live music and performances. And it's all FREE!

The temporary exhibition space is located in one of the new hypercontemporary D.C. office buildings that sits vacant because of the overbuilding that's taken place in Our Nation's Capital combined with the effects of the Great Recession. So, rather than the sterile offices of law firms, real estate developers, consulting firms and the like, there is something like six floors of art and sound, plus adult bevvies and food offered up by the Hard Times Cafe.

For me, this was such a wonderful way to spend my anniversary. Our honeymoon had been spent in Paris, Amsterdam, and Brussels taking in mucho awesome art. I think our favorites were the Rodin Museum in Paris and the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam. At that time, I knew I loved art but now -- having experienced so much more of life and having learned a lot from incorporating artistic processes into my work as an educator -- I appreciate it so much more. That's an exciting thought because it means that my appreciation will continue to deepen as I grow older. This fact, in turn, is an exciting prospect because it means that there are good things about growing older, even though you fart more and get hair in weird places. So, going to Artomatic made total sense, and it cost us way less than traveling to Europe.

Earlier in the day, Jennifer and I had been sniping at each other over...guess what? Think: What do middle-aged couples with youngish children (read: requiring a babysitter) and summer camps to pay for, argue about? If you answered "money" then DING! you would be correct. So, the freeness of Artomatic was helpful. But we'd really done a number on each other so we kind of headed out of the house rather grudging and glum, trying to shake off our hurt feelings and mutual contempt for the others' bass-ackward thinking about things personal financial. On the subway ride to the Navy Yard, where that heretofore empty new office building is located, we got into another intense discussion about Jennifer's travails at work, which she needed to talk about and I wasn't in the mood to hear. Big Error on My Part. It was so intense, in fact, that we forgot to "de-train" at the appropriate station and had to double back, which gave us even more time to become angry, again, with each other. Doesn't this sound like a great date night? Somebody give me a Stoly, straight no chaser.

So we entrained on the green line back to the Navy Yard, detrained there and headed upstairs at 55 M Street, Southeast to become enveloped by art. After sampling some of the electric prog rock in the deafening, concrete first floor performance space, we shot up to the second floor. That is where we fell back in love. We fell in love with the art and, again, with each other. We remembered who we were and what mattered. Our lives are good. We are healthy. We have jobs and good friends. We have enough money. Our children are wonderful. We are the best of friends. Artomatic reminded us of what is important. Here were a lot of artists, most of whom are just extraordinarily creative and, I gather, quite poor, doing something they're passionate about and (mostly) good at. Blown glass, oils on canvas, sculptures and installations of all types, video, furniture, photographs, performance. Artomatic is everything in life.

And my brain? Well, it simply exploded with ideas and wonder. Neurons danced! I woke up. Cheered up. Got high without any alcohol or drugs. That morning I'd been in my shul (synagogue) reciting the Hebrew mantras and getting humble, reconnecting with the rhythm of nature and rejoicing. Artomatic enabled me to revisit those feelings in a different way. Art enables a person to see and feel things anew by seeing and feeling them through the artist's eyes. The artist sees things in a certain way and presents them to you and you may like them and you may not. The artist doesn't care.

Our painter friend, Pat Goslee had some of her wonderful, intricate, busy pieces on display. The one you see here is "part," one of a series Pat has done exploring "the notion of concrete space. A space that is at once empty and full." This image doesn't come near to doing the piece justice. You've got to just stare at the real thing for, like, several hours. I gave it about seven minutes and it worked on me. On her website, Pat has a quote by the critic Jerry Saltz that says "art is an energy source that helps make change possible."

If you live in the DC, then you must make a pilgrimmage to Artomatic. If you do not live here, then you must find art wherever you are, in person, and observe it. Art is all over the place and need not have been created by human hands. Do it as soon and as often as possible. If you're married, take in some art on your wedding anniversary or on a date night. Share it with your lover. When we observe art, we evolve. When we observe art together, we evolve together.
the notion of concrete space. A space that is at once empty and full, where a soul might find peace uncrowded by wars, words, and the opinions of others.the notion of concrete space. A space that is at once empty and full, where a soul might find peace uncrowded by wars, words, and the opinions of others.

20 Years On

This week marks the 20th anniversary of my graduation from law school, so I want to reflect on that.

Certainly, I have learned quite a lot in 20 years of being a lawyer. I am one of those who disliked law school, even though I fared reasonably well and appreciated the academic rigor, the content, and some of my teachers and classmates. But now, after many years of looking back at that period of my life with resentment, I've begun to remember it with some fondness. Not that I would ever go to a reunion, however. In fact, recently, I received materials related to my class's upcoming 20-year reunion. It was nice to see some of the names of active alums (which, I guess, means folks who've donated) from the class of 1989: my dormmates, roommates, and fellow musicians. It was also not nice to see some of their names: the ass kissers, sycophants, conservatives, brats, and just plain assholes.

There were also the names of several law school classmates who had died. Three were friends of mine: Mark Bregar, Rona Morrow, and Steve Fogel. They were all very different, but they were all very good, smart people. I knew of Steve's death because he had perished in the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001. I had been unaware of Mark's and Rona's passings, however, and that news certainly struck me. I didn't know Mark well. He was a very quiet, studious fellow, but was very friendly and funny. He had spent several years in the military before coming to law school. He was extremely sharp but very sweet and his politics were great.

Rona was a former biker chick and rock 'n roll singer, at that time in her mid-to-late 40s maybe. I recall her telling me that she had had a serious drug or alcohol addiction (or both) before kicking it and coming to law school. She served with me on the editorial board of the InterAmerican Law Review. She was just very cool. I remember she made me a cassette tape of Lou Reed's then-new album, New York, which is still one of my favorite rock albums. On the flip side she put the Cowboy Junkies with their version of Sweet Jane. I really liked Rona.

I don't remember Steve's politics, but Mark and Rona were strong liberals, like me. At that time, in the midst of Reagan's Republican and Conservative "revolution" (which was, actually, a devolution for which we are all now suffering), there weren't many of us at the University of Miami Law School. We were far outnumbered by the wealthy, conservative, often Cuban American students who had their hopes and dreams set on becoming powerful lawyers, working at big firms, and greasing the wheels of the economy so they could eat their piece of the Pie. That's really all most of my classmates gave a shit about.

I went into law school thinking I'd come out with the opportunity to make a good living, but my goal was to obtain a law degree to do that old-fashioned thing: Help people. I'd spent the two summers before law school working for a personal injury plaintiff's lawyer who represented little guys against the big guys, and he won. A lot. And that felt good and right to me. He fought for the underdog, so that's what I wanted to do too.

I remember very well that this was a theme echoed and reinforced by my law school dean and professors for three solid years. At our orientation dinner, Dean Mary Doyle told us of her experience as a young lawyer investigating the prison riot at Attica in New York State, and Governer Rockefeller's awful response to it and how it had transformed her. I remember that some of my new classmates didn't think much of her speech, but I thought it was fascinating. I wanted to do something like that, perhaps.

In her speech at our graduation ceremony three years later, Dean Doyle said that by becoming lawyers we were going to have a lot of power and we would be in a position to help people who had no power. That resonated with me.

During the period in between orienation and commencement, Dean Doyle's messages were driven home by several fine professors: Richard Hyland, who taught me contracts and that modern contract law was about equalizing bargaining power. Alan Swan, who taught me that the Constitution was structured to prevent concentrations of state power and that the Roosevelt-era and Warren Courts' interpretation of the Commerce Clause permitted the evolution of progressive legislation in two major areas that we now take for granted: regulation of the economy and the protection of civil rights. Irwin Stotzky, who taught me that fourth and fifth amendments of the U.S. Constitution were designed to preserve individual liberty from the encroachments of the state weilding its police power. Michael Fischl, who taught me that unions were how low-income and working-class people protected themselves from corporate domination. Steve Winter, who had worked for the NAACP Legal Defense Fund; the organization started by Thurgood Marshall. And Jeremy Paul, who introduced me to law and morality through the Hart-Fuller exchange, and the various theories of jurisprudence.

Fischl and Paul were "Crits" -- adherents of the Critical Legal Studies movement -- who believed that law is an expression of power and that those who have access to legal and legislative process (the rich), control society's distribution of wealth and prerogatives. Some called them vulgar Marxists, but I called them smart. They examined the assumptions about human nature underlying the law and, in so doing, pointed out how mistaken most of those assumptions were. All of this reinforced my values and provided greater direction. Maybe they were socialists and maybe they weren't. Frankly, they just wanted the legal system to be fair, and who except the most insecure could argue with that. My Crit professors helped me connect the political theory I'd learned as an undergraduate to the law. And, importantly, they helped me understand that legal education was about the reproductionof heirarchy. That it was, actually, a type of brainwashing and that, if you weren't careful, you were going to get sucked into fucking people over as a lawyer representing powerful interests. Indeed, they were so right: Just look at where most of the top law graduates go. To big firms representing commercial interests who, in turn, dominate the political process and appropriate public space and funds for their private benefit. I owe the Crits very much.

I was fortunate to have been admitted to the editorial board of the InterAmerican Law Review and, in my third year, to be elected Research and Writing Editor. I wanted to write and publish an article, so I chose as my topic the U.S. indictment of Panamanian dictator Manuel Antonio Noriega. At the time, this was an unprecedented extension of federal criminal law that struck me as highly political because Reagan wanted Noriega gone after he refused to continue supplying arms the fascist Nicraguan contras and refused to stop shipping cocaine to the U.S. (Noriega was a fascist too, but that's beside the point.) That began another branch of the great odyssey for me. It was, by far, my most memorable and wonderful experience in law school. I enjoyed doing that work and helping my classmates with their articles. I learned so much.

I was able to publish the article in volume 20 of the Review and, after I graduated and moved to Washington, it turned out that the article received some attention, which encouraged me to pursue further scholarly research and writing. I became a law teacher at Catholic University and human rights lawyer, doing a little work in El Salvador and Colombia. I received a fellowship to teach and practice in an affordable housing law clinic at Georgetown, representing the District of Columbia's low-income, mostly Salvadoran tenants who lived in the worst slum housing in the city. I learned how speak and read some Spanish. I got my ass kicked by some pretty slick slumlords' lawyers, but I also learned how to kick ass from some awesome poverty lawyers, one of whom people used to think was a nun until she tore them a new one in her very quiet, unassuming way. She saved me from my arrogant, insecure, young self. She taught me that you don't need to be a loud, obnoxious, machoman to be a great lawyer and that, in fact, those characteristics had nothing whatever to do with lawyering. She really saved my life and, by so doing, helped me help others with their lives.

After that, I became an undergraduate government teacher at American University while remaining involved in community work and, eventually, co-founding a course of study at AU called Transforming Communities, where I was able to bring together 10 years of experience. Ultimately, I moved on to my current job where I labor to improve the administration of justice in the federal courts.

So, 20 years on, I'd say things have turned out all right. It has taken all those years for the values that I have internalized, stood for, worked for, and taught about to be publicly vindicated by a President of the United States who is, basically, my age and had strikingly similar professional experiences. After he graduated from law school (two years after me), he chose the high road. Why? Because he knew his law degree gave him power to help those who didn't have it. And he's still doing doing the same thing in a different context and in a way those of us not old enough to remember FDR (which is most of us) have never before seen.

The past 20 years have, at times, been very lonely and depressing for me professionally. For years the little guys got the shitty end of the stick and it just kept getting worse. Those who worked in the trenches got no acknowledgment or credit. But these years have also been extraordinarily rewarding (and that doesn't even begin to describe my personal life). I wouldn't trade them for anything.

And, now, I'm lonely no more. I have a national leader, finally, who believes in all the things I do and thinks the way I do. A president who understands the importance of empathy among those with power, the centrality of community to our sense of meaning, and that material things just don't matter very much. And there is a huge tide of young people who feel the same way, ready to follow in his wake.

Relationships. Love. Caring. Community. Twenty years on, I have arrived.