Band (Banned) in Alabama

By now, if you’re any kind of (high school) (marching) band -associated person … you have probably heard about the Birmingham (AL) Police Department officers who tasered and arrested an Alabama high school band director for the mortal sin of letting his band continue to play to the end of their last postgame stands tune.

The headlines don’t sound great. “Alabama band director tased by police for not stopping his students’ performance”, said NPR.

But maybe it’s worth taking a closer look. Maybe there are details that the news articles didn’t cover. Maybe there are questions that the reporters wouldn’t have thought to ask. Maybe there were some things that happened which a police report writer would not think to explain differently.

I have now educated myself properly: by not merely reading the news articles about the incident, but by watching the bodycam footage that was helpfully released by the Birmingham Police.

They certainly thought the video would be helpful, particularly adorned as it was by captions which fully explained the police officers’ activities in a way that might convince people that it was “by the book”. Nothing unusual about this. Much ado about nothing. Move on.

Sorry, is my sarcasm showing?

Now, to be fair: as a former high school and college pep band director myself, I can think of a few things that I might have done differently than this particular director did in this situation. Not many, but they’re there.

• The particular band in question was the visiting team’s band, and it’s always nice to be a polite guest.
• In that situation, if I were the band director and several police officers had placed themselves physically between my conducting podium and the band I was conducting, shouting at me to stop my band … I’m not sure that as a band director I might have asked the police officers to “get out of my face”. Although the bodycam video did make it look as if the officers had gotten in the way of his sightline, such that he might have had trouble getting the band’s attention, in order to get them to stop playing.

There are also details that police officer training probably doesn’t cover.

• We can’t count on police officers understanding that a tradition at many high schools and colleges is the “fifth quarter”, when the two schools’ bands play tunes for a while after the final whistle. Perhaps these officers had never been to a school football game before. Perhaps their supervisor had not briefed them properly about that. Perhaps they actually had been living under a rock.
• The officers probably didn’t have any way of knowing the reason that the band director appeared to re-start his band: in that arrangement, the drum break was finishing up and the next thing to happen, on the way to the end of the arrangement that the band director had explained was their last song, was the brass and woodwinds returning to play one final refrain.
• From a strictly “game-management” perspective, there are ins ‘n’ outs of the band director game that no one outside the band organization really has any idea of, so of course police officers shouldn’t be expected to know, or really care about. Should they.

Come on.

As a watcher of the news, particularly since the George Floyd incident, I had immediate thoughts, probably very much as many of you did. But I thought I might want to wait to pass judgment before I saw the actual footage, so I waited. I’ve been burned before, by not reading past the headline, or not watching the video but instead just reading “the description below”.

Yeah, it turned out to be about as bad a look as I thought it might be.

All of this speaks to the impressive hubris of many law enforcement officers, and the agencies that recruit and train them; and not in a complimentary way. There are now so many incidents like this, documented rather fulsomely on video, that you would think such personnel would at the very least recognize that their actions might well be under scrutiny from videographers not on local government payrolls. You would think that perhaps at the very least, to save themselves from having to defend actions that might escalate into “over the line”, they might not let things get as far as wrestling a high school band director with a master’s degree into handcuffs and then hitting him with a taser. Not once. Not twice. Three times.

Clearly, the hubris has not been dissipated. The power associated with a badge is too self-empowering to resist, for some officers, it seems. Not responsibility — power.

In an alternate universe, where police officers are properly trained and good at de-escalation procedures — or are decent human beings with a sense of scale — or who aren’t spoiling for a fight to begin with … the postgame conversation goes like this:

Officer: “Can we wrap it up please? We’re about to turn out the lights.”
Director: “We’re fixing to go. This is our last song.”
Officer: “Great. Finish up, and then we’re all outta here.”
Director: “Right.”

No tasing. No injury. No arrest. No hospital visit. Everybody walks away happy.

Back in our universe, though, where everybody — even the keepers of the peace, it seems — are ready to drop the gloves and have a hockey fight: no such luck.

I hope the Birmingham Police Department gets the crap sued out of it.

But I’m not angry. No, I take that back: the dominant emotion that I felt as I watched the video, and as I sit here now, writing, is not anger.

It’s sadness.

Sadness for the band kids.

Because on the bodycam video, the instant that last band tune ends, you can hear shrieking. Not the kind that accompanies a touchdown. Not the kind that accompanies a bus accident, small or large. Not the kind that accompanies a lightning strike, or some other frightening event out of nowhere.

This shrieking was the kind that happens when high school band kids see their band director physically restrained and then assaulted by people who are meant to be keepers of the peace. In this case, for reasons that the kids didn’t fully understand in that moment, and couldn’t have agreed with or supported even if they did understand the reasons.

In the band world, if things are going remotely well, band members develop a bond with their band director. It’s anywhere from “s/he always makes sure we look good on the field and get home on the bus safely” to “we know s/he cares about us as people” to “we would throw ourselves in front of oncoming traffic for our director”.

And that’s what that awful shrieking from those band kids contained. Their director, for whom they cared (for either the past four weeks or the past four years, or longer), was being assaulted. And they couldn’t do anything about it — not that they would probably have had any idea of what to do, if they could.

I’ve had the honor of being the band director for quite a few high school and college kids. I’ve had the pleasure of being the band kid who would do anything for his band director, at whatever level. I am empathizing with everyone associated with the Minor (AL) High School band right now, hard.

I am also rooting hard for the Birmingham Police Department to be thoroughly investigated, and for the police officers involved in that incident to be dealt with appropriately, and for recruitment and training procedures in that department (and other departments, who see this news story) to be comprehensively overhauled. To face actual consequences.

Given the state of our world at the moment, I’m not holding my breath about that.

Instead, I will have to content myself with rooting hard for that band director’s lawyer to succeed in her endeavors to hold somebody, anybody, accountable.

Mostly, I’d like to find a way to reassure those band kids somehow.

Once More, For the People In the Back

I saw a Facebook post yesterday by someone called Tom Simons. The post said some basically sensible things about this year’s general election. But among those things were some thoughts expressed in a way that BUGGED THE HECK OUT OF ME. Including:

“It is clear that tomorrow will be a turning point in history. I must say that, whatever the outcome may be, I am truly concerned with how polarized we have become as a nation.”

“Regardless of the eventual winner, I am convinced that we will experience a grotesque display of anger, resentment, and vitriol from those who support the losing candidates.”

“We all believe that we are pursuing what is right and good for the future of our country. Quite frankly, we are all right and we are all also wrong. It is a very rare problem that does not have multiple, equally valid solutions.”

“It is our responsibility to bring our thoughts and opinions to the table in a constructive way and to value and consider everyones’ opinions, whether we share them or not.”

“I implore you all to rise above the childish, destructive, and divisive behavior that has somehow become the accepted norm and pollutes my social media feeds every day.”

As much as I wish for universal love and overwhelming mutual respect … hey, I’m a Star Trek fan from way back … these expressions are nothing but Both-Siderism.

Oh, says the Both-Siderist, both Sides are equally awful.

While it’s true that no human is comprehensively, universally good and right, and no human is comprehensively bad and evil … and while it’s true that no candidate is perfect … and while it’s true that in order to function as a political party (e.g. raise money to advertise their platforms and beliefs so as to continue to be elected and be able to influence government and society), every political party is forced to operate in ways that sometimes aren’t pure as the driven snow. At least until “Citizens United” is overturned, and even then, it’ll be a while before we’re living in Gene Roddenberry’s Trek utopia.

So at least in this way, I’m a frustrated realist.

But, my friends, in this particular general election, and over the past four years and then some, “both Sides” — these particular two Sides — are not equally bad.

One of the Sides HASN’T put kids in cages and then just abandoned any pretense of eventually getting them back to their parents.

One of the Sides HASN’T tried to loot the Treasury.

One of the Sides HASN’T torched our friendships with our traditional allies all over the world.

One of the Sides HASN’T revelled in cries of “lock her/him/them up” when thinking of its political adversaries.

One of the Sides HASN’T abandoned the American citizenry to the ravages of a highly contagious virus.

One of the Sides HASN’T played fast and loose with what we adorably think of as “institutional norms”.

One of the Sides HASN’T trafficked in sheer embarrassing incompetence.

One of the Sides HASN’T tried everything possible … from the crippling of the Post Office to the planting of fake ballot collection dropboxes to the desperate last-minute court fights about legitimate means of voting … to keep as many citizens as possible from voting – particularly people of color, people of economic disadvantage, people of The Other Side From Them.

One of the Sides is objectively, obviously, seriously worse than the other.

Worse at governing; worse at caring for the people it claims to represent.

Worse at recognizing that every human is a human; and worse at recognizing that the lives of certain specific segments of our population do in fact specifically matter (largely because American governing policies have very often made it seem like, no, they really didn’t; and we have a responsibility to at least acknowledge this).

You probably know which Side I think I’m talking about.

I already voted for the Side I think is in fact better. I dropped my ballot envelope in the dropbox outside City Hall, the very first moment I was able.

I hope you’ve voted, or that you will today. It’s noble and fair to hope you voted for whichever Side you believe is better. It is, I think, understandable that I hope you voted for the Side that I voted for.

Selfishly (and not), all I can do is hope that enough of us will have voted for the Side that I think will take better care of our country and our world, going forward, that we will actually see better days ahead.

Either way, we have work to do. It will soon come time to do that work. And I’m enthusiastic about doing that work after my chosen Side prevails – or, if it doesn’t prevail, about continuing to defend our country from the sociopathic pirates who have already spent four years (and then some) caring only about themselves and not about anybody else – especially not the people who don’t look or think or worship or love like they do.

But I find myself not quite so interested in doing that work while trying to compromise or find middle ground with people who are enthusiastically part of the Side who did a TON to put us in the tight spot we’re in.

Because while I happen to fit into a demographic which (I have only half-joked) will be among the last groups that they “come for” … nonetheless, I do know and respect and love plenty of people whose lives have been – and stand to continue to be – harmed by the policies and beliefs of the current Occupant of the Oval Office and his cronies and his enablers and his sycophants and his cult following.

So I have work to do, in support of my friends and my colleagues, and, I believe, in support of my country.

Yes. Don’t wish ill on anyone. Hope for the best. Work for the good. Peace and long life.

But be smart about it, in this way at least:

Somebody has to be held accountable for all this — the cruelty, the damage, the sometimes unquestionable evil.

There have to be consequences. And those consequences have to be more than just a slap on the wrist, a cluck of the tongue, and a concerned, Susan-Collins-esque frown.

As Paula Poundstone once quipped, “If we give them the answers, how will they learn?”

Once more, for the people in the back:

In this moment, both Sides are not equally bad.

One of the Sides doesn’t do sociopathic, insane, cruel stuff.

And one of the Sides needs to be handed a lesson it will never forget.

Enough of the craziness.

Vote.

Not just for a presidential candidate, but for candidates in all the “down-ballot” races, all the way down to dog-catcher.

Vote.

Take a deep breath.

Let it out.

And then get ready to hold their feet to the fire.

Get ready to make good trouble.

Not Numb

[Ed. Note: This post was written hours before it was revealed that Donald Trump tested positive for COVID-19. Today, I have changed exactly zero words that I myself had written yesterday.]

Last week, presidential candidate Joe Biden made a speech, as the American death toll from the COVID-19 coronavirus was hitting 200,000 people. He said:

“What worries me now is we’ve been living with this pandemic for so long, I worry we’re risking becoming numb to the toll that it’s taken on us … We can’t let that happen.”

Who’s this “we”, kemo sabe?

Sorry. I certainly don’t mean to yell at Vice President Biden. Heaven knows he got enough of that, earlier this week.

But, no: far from being numb to all this … for all practical purposes, I can’t get away from thinking about it.

On the macro level, I worry for the country, the world, and the people in it, thanks to the criminal incompetence of our national government’s willful-ignorance-laden response to COVID. We’re staring down the barrel of economic conditions not seen in this part of the world for 90 years; and not too long from now a quarter-million Americans will be dead – and so many more affected by lingering COVID side effects for the rest of their lives, and how will our health-care systems cope with that?

On the micro level, I remain as vigilant now as I was in March about my health and that of the people I care about. I remain concerned about finding full-time work again but remain unenthusiastic about having a job that requires me to work in enclosed spaces … and what does that mean for, ya know, income? I got a mortgage and a car loan, y’all.

I remain as concerned as ever about my family, friends and former colleagues in the education world who are being cast into actual public-health danger by school committees and public officials who insist that schools must open because the local Chamber of Commerce says the economy is more important than public health. Or that’s what it sounds like to me. Money uber alles.

I remain worried about people whose jobs are deemed essential and so have no choice but to go out into a COVID-laden world because they’re in no economic position not to work those jobs.

And I remain worried about people whose careers are in danger or in tatters or gone, because they work in sectors considered by economic policy-setters as non-essential – indeed, unimportant to the real functioning of the country and the world. Ya know … unnecessary fields like the arts.

I’m not numb. No indeed. Hell no.

I’m sick to death of the whole thing; but I’m not numb.

My biggest issue is with the people who appear to feel like it’s okay for them to go back to normal and behave as if nothing untoward were still happening. As if they don’t give a rat’s backside about anyone but themselves and their wants.

Yes. You are reading one of the very few unabashed whines of my life.

It’s not FAAAAAIR.

Well? It’s not.

We appear to live in a society that is incapable of working together en masse to solve a problem like this. So, those of us who do feel like following the rules … ya know, us *rule-followers*, the kind who were no fun in school … are having our lives and livelihoods put on hold for yet longer than is necessary.

And this is so, thanks to people who want to: [] party with strangers and without masks, [] go to high school football games even while their associated schools are teaching remotely, [] go to political rallies with no masks and no elbow room and lots of breath-filled shouting. Scientific research be damned.

I’m sorry if I’m going to lose friends with this post, but … this is where I am. Pissed off.

Yesterday was my 200th day in COVID-driven physical isolation and out-of-work (apart from my church gig, which represents a few bucks and one morning per week in the masked physical presence of congregation members; and my twice-weekly early-AM mall-parking-lot-walks). Twenty-seven weeks -plus. Six months and then some.

I can easily anticipate at least two hundred more days.

I don’t even have any pre-existing conditions, no co-morbidities. I’m not a senior citizen. General health-wise, I’m in a pretty good place.

But my head is not.

Turns out, I didn’t have to articulate my feelings about this. Four people on Twitter recently have done it for me.

So these are my thoughts; just articulated better by others:

Chelsea M. Cameron on Twitter: “I just… keep seeing people social eating at restaurants, traveling, doing whatever and I’m sitting in my apartment like I’ve hallucinated a pandemic.”

Legoshoes on Twitter: “Aspects of our COVID exhaustion are due to the reality that any of us are carrying the weight of others’ irresponsibility. Many go about their lives, unencumbered with any feeling of social responsibility, then feel justified in their carelessness, at least partially protected by the herculean efforts of others. Not only are we carefully navigating a context foreign to us, sacrificially bearing a collective burden, we have to watch those efforts devalued by those who then pretend their carelessness is justified.”

Matt Pearce (national correspondent, Los Angeles Times) on Twitter: “The pandemic in the U.S. has had a free-rider problem, in which we have a bunch of people (me) who have given up seeing friends and family for months in an effort to help delay the pace of infection for other people who want to hug various senators and White House officials.”

Incognito Dorito on Twitter: “About once a week, I get mad and frustrated. I’m not effin PMSing, I’m not drunk, I’m not menopausal ffs. I’m annoyed. I’ve been self isolating since March 17th. I’m listening to experts. I’m going to be in this position so much longer and it’s maddening. I’m not the only one tired of this. There are a lot of us. Feeling like we’re being treated as if we don’t matter. They are out there acting childish and selfish and we’re just trying to stay the course and be responsible.”

Again, sorry if I’ve lost you. I’m just done with all this.

But I can’t be done with this … because a bunch of other fellow Americans want to be done with this, and so they ARE done with this, and they therefore act like they don’t give a damn about the health or safety of anybody else but themselves.

Sorry.

I can promise Vice President Biden:

I’m not numb.

I’m cranky.

Very cranky.

But not numb.