Do I love my Yankee friend or do I love my Yankee friend. - What will Bush's legacy be?
What will Bush's legacy be?
By Joan Vennochi
The Boston Globe
January 20, 2005
On Martin Luther King Jr. Day, Anita Hill spoke at Faneuil Hall. She is as dignified and direct in person in 2005 as she was on television in 1991, when she challenged the nomination of Clarence Thomas to the Supreme Court. He won; she lost. Today she teaches at Brandeis University, where, she told her audience, her work with students often causes her to contemplate what this generation will pass on to the next.
What will our legacy be?" she asked.
The question Hill posed on a day honoring King's legacy is a good question to ask today. Over the next four years the country will be defining the legacy it passes on to its children. What will it be?
This inauguration is about more than one president's swearing-in, especially since George W. Bush's passage into a second term is also an immediate passage into lameduck status. It is about tackling issues that will shape the rights of all citizens, from privacy and voting rights to a child's right to health insurance and a senior's right to a modicum of financial security.
Yet the odds of someone of either political party promoting a shared agenda do not look good. Remember what Bush said the day after the election? "I've earned political capital, and I plan to spend it." Like Frank Sinatra, Bush did it "My Way." He has "regrets . . . too few to mention."
Today the president is expected to talk about the philosophy, principles, ideals, and values of America -- self-governance, human rights, and advancing freedom. Can he make it our way, not just his way?
The Democrats, too, seem committed to personal causes. Massachusetts Senator John Kerry, the Democratic presidential nominee, hijacked Boston's annual Martin Luther King Jr. breakfast to advance his own agenda. He decried what he called the suppression of thousands of would-be voters in November.
If he truly believed that to be the case, why didn't he challenge the election? He continues as a politician who wants things both ways -- he is for the election result and against it. He votes for the war but he won't vote for Condoleezza Rice for secretary of state.
In today's America, the debate breaks down along bitterly partisan lines. It is less a debate than a mean street fight, where people are judged first by whether they stand on the left side of the street or the right. Congress is weighted with more people from the right side of the street, but, by the numbers, the country breaks down more evenly. What if the policy analysis were not about victory for the right and annihilatioin of the left but about the legacy we all want for America's children?
Last week Governor Mitt Romney, a Republican with national ambitions, pledged to improve education, expand healthcare coverage, and create more jobs. Accused the next day of sounding like a Democrat, he gave an interesting answer. The Democrats' goals, said Romney, are worthwhile. The means -- how we achieve them -- are open to debate. He would do well to add that embracing those goals and figuring out a way to achieve them would be a legacy worth passing on to our children.
Naive, you say? After all, there are at least two wars going on -- in Iraq and between red and blue state America. If they continue much longer, they will tear the country even further apart and make it harder to find common ground.
Yet out of war and the cultural and political tumult of the 1960s came a great legacy for the children of that era -- including civil rights for minorities and women. Without it, would Alberto Gonzales be in the running for attorney general? Would Rice have the opportunity to become secretary of state? Complacency is an obstacle to change. Doing battle is a way to achievement, as King and other giants of the civil rights era discovered, at great personal cost.
In her speech at Faneuil Hall, Anita Hill recalled watching King on a black-and-white television in the living room of her home in rural Oklahoma. What she heard as an 8-year-old shaped her hopes and dreams, successes and disappointments. As a result, she says, she wants to pass on "a legacy of passion and enthusiasm for civil rights."
In 2005, who speaks to America's children? Where is the inspiration? What is the legacy we leave to them?
By Joan Vennochi
The Boston Globe
January 20, 2005
On Martin Luther King Jr. Day, Anita Hill spoke at Faneuil Hall. She is as dignified and direct in person in 2005 as she was on television in 1991, when she challenged the nomination of Clarence Thomas to the Supreme Court. He won; she lost. Today she teaches at Brandeis University, where, she told her audience, her work with students often causes her to contemplate what this generation will pass on to the next.
What will our legacy be?" she asked.
The question Hill posed on a day honoring King's legacy is a good question to ask today. Over the next four years the country will be defining the legacy it passes on to its children. What will it be?
This inauguration is about more than one president's swearing-in, especially since George W. Bush's passage into a second term is also an immediate passage into lameduck status. It is about tackling issues that will shape the rights of all citizens, from privacy and voting rights to a child's right to health insurance and a senior's right to a modicum of financial security.
Yet the odds of someone of either political party promoting a shared agenda do not look good. Remember what Bush said the day after the election? "I've earned political capital, and I plan to spend it." Like Frank Sinatra, Bush did it "My Way." He has "regrets . . . too few to mention."
Today the president is expected to talk about the philosophy, principles, ideals, and values of America -- self-governance, human rights, and advancing freedom. Can he make it our way, not just his way?
The Democrats, too, seem committed to personal causes. Massachusetts Senator John Kerry, the Democratic presidential nominee, hijacked Boston's annual Martin Luther King Jr. breakfast to advance his own agenda. He decried what he called the suppression of thousands of would-be voters in November.
If he truly believed that to be the case, why didn't he challenge the election? He continues as a politician who wants things both ways -- he is for the election result and against it. He votes for the war but he won't vote for Condoleezza Rice for secretary of state.
In today's America, the debate breaks down along bitterly partisan lines. It is less a debate than a mean street fight, where people are judged first by whether they stand on the left side of the street or the right. Congress is weighted with more people from the right side of the street, but, by the numbers, the country breaks down more evenly. What if the policy analysis were not about victory for the right and annihilatioin of the left but about the legacy we all want for America's children?
Last week Governor Mitt Romney, a Republican with national ambitions, pledged to improve education, expand healthcare coverage, and create more jobs. Accused the next day of sounding like a Democrat, he gave an interesting answer. The Democrats' goals, said Romney, are worthwhile. The means -- how we achieve them -- are open to debate. He would do well to add that embracing those goals and figuring out a way to achieve them would be a legacy worth passing on to our children.
Naive, you say? After all, there are at least two wars going on -- in Iraq and between red and blue state America. If they continue much longer, they will tear the country even further apart and make it harder to find common ground.
Yet out of war and the cultural and political tumult of the 1960s came a great legacy for the children of that era -- including civil rights for minorities and women. Without it, would Alberto Gonzales be in the running for attorney general? Would Rice have the opportunity to become secretary of state? Complacency is an obstacle to change. Doing battle is a way to achievement, as King and other giants of the civil rights era discovered, at great personal cost.
In her speech at Faneuil Hall, Anita Hill recalled watching King on a black-and-white television in the living room of her home in rural Oklahoma. What she heard as an 8-year-old shaped her hopes and dreams, successes and disappointments. As a result, she says, she wants to pass on "a legacy of passion and enthusiasm for civil rights."
In 2005, who speaks to America's children? Where is the inspiration? What is the legacy we leave to them?
posted by Sid Cottingham | 7:45 PM
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