Archive for category: Blog

City of Immigrants: A Night of Support – SOLD OUT

08 Feb
February 8, 2017

For eventbrite final

The event is sold out.

There will NOT be tickets available at the door. A ticket is required for entry.


Not attending? Please consider making a donation to the organizations we are supporting:
ACLU of MD, National Immigration Law Center, Tahirih Justice Center, International Rescue Committee.

Click here to make a donation through our online page. Donations made online and at the event will be matched up to $100,000 by Blown Deadline Productions.

The event will be livestreamed by the Washington Post.

Sponsor/Organizer:

Blown Deadline Productions & Tech Solidarity

Date & Time:
Monday February 13th, 2017
7:00 – 8:30pm
Doors open at 6:15pm

Tickets are required for entry. Please bring your printed ticket with you or be prepared to show it on your phone. A reminder that a very small number of tickets will be released at 4pm tomorrow (Sunday) afternoon.

Location:
Beth Am Synagogue, Baltimore, MD

About the event:
Baltimoreans united against fear, nativism and the immigration ban will gather on Monday, February 13 at Beth Am Synagogue in Reservoir Hill to hear speakers as varied as Beau Willimon, Deray McKesson, David Simon, Taylor Branch, and others urging religious and racial inclusivity. The program will conclude with singer-songwriter Steve Earle adding his voice and guitar.

Admission is free with a ticket and donation to groups assisting visa holders and refugees: ACLU of MD, National Immigration Law Center, Tahirih Justice Center, and International Rescue Committee.

 

Donations made through the event’s donation page and at the event will be matched up to $100,000 by Blown Deadline Productions, the Baltimore-based television production company that created The Wire, Treme and Show Me A Hero.

Tech Solidarity works to better connect tech workers with the communities they live in. Our emphasis is on regular in-person meetings, volunteer assistance to organizations serving the vulnerable, and the creative use of labor law in pursuit of an ethical agenda.

Additional Speakers:

  • Leana S. Wen, M.D., MSc., FAAEM – Health Commissioner, Baltimore City
  • Nancy Kass, ScD – the Phoebe R. Berman Professor of Bioethics and Public Health, in the Department of Health Policy and Management, Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health and Deputy Director for Public Health in the Berman Institute of Bioethics.
  • Marielena Hincapié – Executive Director, National Immigration Law Center
  • Ruben Chandrasekar – Executive Director, International Rescue Committee, Maryland
  • Kristen Strain – Executive Director, Tahirih Justice Center Baltimore
  • Sonia Kumar – Staff Attorney, ACLU of MD

Old faces and fresh dishonor

25 Nov
November 25, 2015

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Save for the image of a six-year-old Hungarian girl which I do not possess — these are the photographs of 10 of the 11 members of my family who did not escape from Europe in the critical prewar years, when the path for refugees fleeing fascism narrowed, then disappeared. Fear of these people — their otherness, their politics, their faith — was sufficient to close borders and deny safe passage to America and elsewhere. The first six photos are an extended family on my mother’s side lost at Auschwitz, the last four a branch of my father’s clan slain in the woods outside the city of Slonim, in what is now Belarus.

The facelessness of the hundreds of thousands fleeing our time’s great cruelty is in some basic way part of their undoing. In their anonymity, the Syrian refugees running from Assad or the Islamic State appear in our political discourse as mere numbers, abstract and enormous. Save for the occasional photograph of a child’s body on a beach or some video footage of an exhausted woman in a rail station, these lost souls exist for us as an amorphous collective. To our minds, they are a vast multitude of disordered humanity, victims and victimizers, terrorists and those terrorized. Sorting them will be exhausting and imprecise and burdensome. There will be costs. And risks.

And yet every time I begin to listen to someone explain to me the social or political problem of opening our country to this breaking wave of humanity, every time some sonofabitch summons fear or prejudice or uncertainty, I am steadied and restored by my own familial history. Yes, populations are vast, uncontrollable, threatening. Their swell and weight are great enough in our frightened minds to overwhelm systems, or resources. But people are people. Our precious singularity, when at last acknowledged, makes the cowardice of our worst politicians and the fear of those who respond to their rhetoric that much more craven and shameful.

For me, I just have to turn the page of the family photo album and stare at these faces. The people of my blood, the lost branches of my tree — Esther and Solomon, Fanci and Gitel, Leo and little Batia and the others — ordinary mothers and fathers and children who an entire world failed to see as completely and irreplacably human. They, too, were a feared and unwanted wave of chaos and risk, confusion and otherness. And they were butchered on the short end of someone else’s geopolitical equation.

Knowing that much, I can’t look at these lost faces and then succumb to the worst imaginings of a Trump or a Cruz or a Carson. It would be an affront to the memory of my tribal dead, and to the fortunate journey, too, of all of those in my mother’s and father’s family who got out, who got here, or to Palestine, or Australia.

This, now, is the same moment, with the same stakes. Soon and forever, many more families will have nothing left but names and photographs over which to grieve, just as the names and images of others — today’s Tafts and Coughlins and Lindberghs — will be stained and dishonored by what they say or do in this time. These are men and women who wish to claim the mantle of moral leadership, yet would trade innocent lives for any and all chance for an abject and equivocal safety, or worse, for some immediate political gain. Tether yourself to their ugliest fears and you, too, can embrace the shame that this moment offers.

Or be more.

But know for certain that the history that is happening today — right now — will judge us all.

Grievous assimilation on the streets of New York

28 Oct
October 28, 2015

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“Plain bagel, heavy on the mayonnaise.  And Brad, could you trim away the crust on it?  Thanks.”

Some brief correspondence regarding the Chicago Cubs

22 Oct
October 22, 2015

Email from James Yoshimura, because he is A Northsider, at October 21, 2015, 6:09 pm:

“Sisyphus ain’t got shit on me!  Go Cubs, Yosh.”

Email from David Simon, because he is A Giver, at October 21, 2015, 6:17 pm:

“All America is with you.  Except for about 80 million of the assholes.”

Email from James Yoshimura, still A Northsider, at October 22, 2015, 9:22 a.m.

“All of America can go fuck itself. And if it’s looking for Sisyphus, the
prick’s drinking with me and will until next spring training.”

God help Yosh and all the others laboring in the deep bowels of their dark, forbidding mine.  The Cubbies are relentless.  They are an anvil, with another anvil tied to them for weight.  God help you good people.

 

Probably smarter, possibly funnier.

11 Sep
September 11, 2015

A letter to the editor that ran in The Washington Post Magazine last Sunday in reply to a profile of me that said I resembled Homer Simpson’s smarter brother:

 
The Washington Post Magazine
Letters to the editor
David Simon’s older brother takes umbrage at a description in our story:
I read with great interest your piece about David Simon, my little brother. I am 14 years older than David, and I am intensely proud of him. However, I must take great umbrage at the statement that “Simon … looks from some angles like Homer Simpson’s much smarter brother.”  First the implication is that I am Homer Simpson and second, that David is smarter than me. You will be hearing from my attorneys.
Gary L. Simon, medical professor, GWU

 

In a Jewish family, the doctor is always the smarter child.  The TV writer is supposed to advance the funny.  And presently, I find myself routed on both flanks at once.