Speakout is Truthout's treasure chest for bloggy, quirky, personally reflective, or especially activism-focused pieces. Speakout articles represent the perspectives of their authors, and not those of Truthout.
One thing we have become all too used to is that our reality can be manipulated to create the appearance of something else entirely. Invading another country is defensive, rigged elections are passed off as democracy in action, more guns (or more nuclear weapons) ensure the peace, trade and foreign investment increase jobs at home. Orwellian logic has become commonplace.
As we recognize the one-year anniversary of Obama's November 20 executive action on immigration, I remember that night one year ago when immigrant families packed into a room together to watch the president announce the executive action. He had already signaled that he’d be responding to the unprecedented community pressure against the record deportations that had surpassed two million at that point. He had publicly committed to reform inhumane policy and finally it looked like the delays would end.
I picked some sea shells at Henoko in Okinawa. Henoko is where the US is relocating their military base against the wishes of 76.1% of Okinawans.
I gave the sea shells as gifts to some of the Afghan Peace Volunteers to help them remember Okinawa's story.
Many people in Lebanon have overlaid their Facebook profile pictures with a transparent flag of the French Republic, making use of a feature promptly provided by the social media platform, through which users could visually express their solidarity with France's terrorism victims by displaying the country's flag. While people in Lebanon and worldwide collectively mourn the victims of Paris, the 46 victims of the attacks against the so-called Paris of the East, the capital of the former French Mandate, Beirut, remain marginalized in public discourse.
The recent killing of Corey Jones by a plain clothes police officer is another tragic indication of Florida's violent landscape against blacks. Indeed, Jones, a Black public-housing inspector and part-time musician, was waiting for a tow truck when he was shot multiple times by Palm Beach Gardens officer Nouman Raja. The incident turned deadly when Rjaa, an untrained officer still on probation conducting "surveillance" operations, approached Jones and fatally shot him to death.
Every first Tuesday of the month since 2010 a handful of us have been protesting the weaponized Reaper drone atHancock Air Base. In milder weather - from April to November - we also protest on third Tuesdays. We call this work, "street heat."
Why such persistence? Hancock AFB, near Syracuse, our home town, hosts the 174th Attack Wing of the New York Air National Guard.
Ebola has scarred our minds with frightening images of death, destruction and dire challenges for the countries that have been affected. While the disease effects may be dissipating, with reported cases dwindling into the single digits, the repercussions on the healthcare system are crippling and will persist for a long time to come, as highlighted by the CNN piece, "Here's where we are 1 year later."
President Obama met with Israeli Prime Minister Netanyahu on November 9 in the White House and is considering the Israeli request to give a 50 percent increase of nearly $1.5 billion in US military funding bringing the US donation to the killing of Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza to $4.5 billion a year.
Nestled neatly between the neighborhoods of Clinton Hill and Bed-Stuy lies the Pratt Institute, a school where aspiring creative minds go tounleash themselves upon the art world. Pratt has always prided itself on famed Alumni like Betsey Johnson and pristine lawns. It prides itself on keeping its students safe - it's not like those other universities.
When I arrived at the Kabul International Airport on November 4, I was unaware that the same day the New York Times published an article, "Life Pulls Back in Afghan Capital, as Danger Rises and Troops Recede." My friends Abdulhai and Ali, 17 years old, young men I have known since my first visit five years ago, greeted me with smiles and hugs and took my bags. Disregarded by soldiers and police armed with automatic weapons, we caught up on old times as we walked past concrete blast walls, sand bag fortifications, check points and razor wire to the public road and hailed a cab.