HE LATEST UNSEEN ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM

By Edwin Cooney

I could be wrong, I often am, but we’re so wrapped up in either our justification or condemnation of President Trump’s “no tolerance” when it comes to illegal immigration, that we’re missing the real issue  — or, as they say, “the elephant in the room.”

Of course, everyone loves drama. Sadly, even more, too many of us (especially President Trump) get a huge emotional release born of the twin dramas of resentment and hatred. In fact, the president has cut his political teeth on those two negative attitudes. Of course, a healthy dash of political resentment has always kept the body politic of our free society running. The danger comes when everything political is about resentment and hatred.

Both Republicans and Democrats share the blame, to a substantial degree, for the people’s confusion on illegal immigration. The wealthy have more than once taken advantage of the vulnerable status of immigrants and hired them for peanuts. At one point, Caesar Chavez’s United Farm Workers fought the influx of too many illegal immigrants. Generation after generation, Americans have resented and resisted immigrants going back to the 1790s. The issue against immigrants wasn’t about their work ethic, it was about their religion or even with their potential lack of loyalty. Prohibition was largely the result of anti-German feelings during World War I.  Even though America needed to bring large numbers of immigrants to the empty plains to resist claims to wide open western territories by Native Americans, Mr. and Mrs. America have nonetheless been generally pretty consistent in their nativism.

Thus, in this country, we are divided over the President’s “no tolerance” policy. After all, we are supposed to be the leader when it comes to “family values.” For many of us, this observer included, it was quite satisfying to see President Trump retreat last Wednesday, June the 6th, and sign that executive order disallowing the deliberate separation of children from their parents.

However, the elephant in the room is the cause and effect issue that no one is talking about.

The president insists that these immigrants are leaving their homelands because they want a piece of the American pie so badly that they’re willing to steal to get it. However, there is a lot of evidence that the real cause of this mass immigration has to do with conditions in El Salvador, Honduras, and Guatemala. These societies are essentially out of control at home. It appears that some of those Latin American governments are impotent when it comes to protecting the civil and legal rights of their people.

If such is the case, then it seems to me that the heart of the problem is a diplomatic one. In other words, it is an international political crisis. The solution isn’t to punish El Salvador or Guatemala or Honduras. It seems to me that they must be engaged to become a part of the solution to this crisis.

If Latin and South American governments are in fact riddled with drug cartels and gangsters of other types, isn’t it time to jointly address the problem through the United Nations or the Organization of American States?

Consider for just a moment or two what these illegal immigrants have to go through. How many times in our lives have you and I traversed the geographical territory of two or three countries in an effort to find safety and perhaps even prosperity? Can this effort be laid entirely at the blame of criminal greed? What kind of a message is 21st Century America sending to future generations?

I’m convinced that the average person does everything he or she can do to avoid the inconveniences of a trek across hostile territories which inevitably subjects a person to banditry, rape and even murder. How many of us would risk what they risk completely for the sake of greed? I insist — damn few of us!

Somehow, the cry of illegality when it comes to these people’s attempt to flee terror rings a little hollow when one considers the defiances in our own history. There have been numerous times when Americans have deliberately contradicted our own political  principles and even defied the Constitution of the United States when it suited us. In the 1850s, for example, southerners who insisted that the federal government had no business interfering with states’ rights were more than pleased when Presidents Fillmore, Pierce and Buchanan supported the Fugitive Slave Law in defiance of the laws and rights of the Northern states which sought to protect slaves living within their borders. Even more to the point, Prohibition was as constitutional as the National Rifle Association’s beloved Second Amendment, but it was successfully defied and revoked by largely law-loving and abiding “true blue” Americans.

The argument that Latin American immigration is bad because, or when, it’s illegal misses the point. Separating parents from their children, or deporting them to their native lands is like insisting that those who run from a fire ought to be sent back into the building because they escaped the flames by running rather than walking!

As I see it, it’s outrageously immoral to punish people because they’re frightened! What do you suppose President Trump would do if he were frightened? Would he worry about legalities if his physiognomy was “in the ringer?”

Nuts!!! 

RESPECTFULLY SUBMITTED,

EDWIN COONEY

TALK ABOUT FAKE NEWS — GUESS WHO IS ITS HEAD HONCHO?

By Edwin Cooney

Okay, I’ll risk it! The biggest fake news story in recent times is the Trump/Kim drama. Sure, the existence of nuclear weapons is real enough, but the story behind the story is nonsense.

In the first place, Americans have been historically hornswoggled about North Korea by both Republicans and Democrats since 1953. Richard Nixon campaigned three times for president insisting that there had been peace in Korea since Ike put Kim Il-sung in his place by privately threatening him with nuclear destruction. Second, President Clinton, President Carter, President George W. Bush, and President Obama all allowed themselves to be snookered by generations of the Kim gangster family that rules North Korea.  In 1994, in 2005, and throughout the entire Obama administration, American administrations had been the victim of whiny threats coming from Pyongyang. Finally, “Dealer-in-Chief” Trump is now insisting that he and “Rocket Man” (Kim Jong-un) have a workable understanding that will lessen tension on the Korean peninsula.

I’ve been accused by some readers of being naive regarding the significance of the threats emanating from North Korea. I’m convinced, however, that my analysis is absolutely on target. In their use, nuclear weapons are deadly. Ah, but the existence of nuclear weapons is a hell of a bargaining tool. You may never intend to use nuclear weapons. However if you never tell the world you’ll never use them, the world will be scared to death wondering if you really might.

As for North Korea being a Communist state, whether it is or isn’t is quite irrelevant. North Korea isn’t really a Communist state in the true sense of the word. The Kim family has exploited Communist doctrine because it ideologically fits the Kim family’s generational goal to maintain power. Essentially, they insist that they’re part of the worldwide movement to advance Communism when their real ambition is primarily to plunder for the family’s social, political and financial benefit. Someone, I’ve forgotten who it was, once observed that the same was true of Soviet Communism, that Soviet Communism was merely state-sponsored autocracy no different than the rule of the Czars. Only the Chinese, it has been observed, really and truly have attempted to practice pure Communism. In this analysis lies the basis of my own assessment of what’s really going on.

Between 1945 and 1991, Americans were indoctrinated to believe that we were in a struggle between “Godless Communism” and “God-fearing moral freedom.” On the surface of that struggle, it seemed that both sides were determined to live and die for their core principles. Another important factor in our analysis of Soviet or World Communism was our belief that Communism was a religion rather than an ideology. What we failed to understand was that there’s a difference between a belief system and a religious or a spiritual orientation.

Belief in God, Buddha, or Allah is neither contrived nor ideological, but based on faith.  Belief in human ideology is both contrived and conditional. (An agrarian society for instance has little interest in capitalism.)

As I see it, where the rubber meets the road is what whole societies are willing to both live and die for. Twentieth and twenty-first century history teaches us that Communists, who are primarily materialists, exist for material things. Lacking a spiritual dimension they tend to prefer living to dying. Of course, patriotic Soviets fought bravely against Hitler’s Nazis during World War II as did we. However, the decision-makers at the highest levels of Soviet society ultimately preferred the preservation of their vacation dachas to the deadly risk of a nuclear confrontation with the United States over North Korea, Berlin, Cuba or even North Vietnam.

As for North Korea, it is unlikely that it could get involved in a nuclear exchange without seriously affecting the well-being of China which has been its primary support system since Kim Il-sung crossed the 38th parallel on Sunday June 25th, 1950.

I’m convinced that North Korea’s insistence on building a nuclear capacity was designed, at the least, to scare the hell out of those “capitalist running dogs.” Obviously, Kim Jong-un, upon taking power in 2011, made the decision to escalate a nuclear program with the full compliance of both Communist China and the former KGB agent Vladimir Putin.

Having created this frightening scenario, Kim has lured President Trump into the same concessions as Presidents Clinton, G.W. Bush and Obama. The agreement signed last Tuesday, June 12th, 2018, has no more guarantees and understandings in it than the 1994 and 2004 agreements. Yet, Kim Jong Un has moved one step closer to dominance over the Korean Peninsula than ever before.

As for President Trump, it’s hard to grasp what is in it for him except the immediate historical precedence of the first ever meeting between an American president and a North Korean leader. What’s even more puzzling is the degree to which President Trump’s Republican Party, which has traditionally been fiercely anti-Communist, seems to be going along with him. My guess is that had Jimmy Carter, Bill Clinton or Barack Obama made such concessions to one of the world’s most ruthless and murderous dictators, the GOP elephant would be fighting mad.

Hence the fake news! I insist that neither Chinese, Russians, or indeed the American taxpayer will be likely to approve a nuclear exchange between North Korea and the United States. Too many very powerful people would lose everything they have including their very lives should such a confrontation take place.

If you are looking for a genuinely scary international crisis, that could come if the Shiites get control of a nuclear weapons system. For Shiites, death is as much of a reward as a military victory. Now you would be talking about the possibility of Armageddon. Then it would be time to be very, very afraid. Over the past ten days, the real news has been President Trump’s contempt for the top leaders of democratically elected societies along with his admiration for Putin and Kim. Progress in our relationship with North Korea could conceivably be real news over time, but for now, it’s no news at all.

Therefore, to the degree that it’s yet to become news and not yet news, it is fake news.

What say you, Mr. President?

RESPECTFULLY SUBMITTED,

EDWIN COONEY 

JUST FOLLOWING THE SUN! *

By Edwin Cooney

This coming September 1st, 2018, a Saturday, as the sun approaches the autumnal equinox, you and I, in our homes and in our hearts, will celebrate the 150th anniversary of the arrival of the first student to our beloved campus. His name was Samuel Stilwell. We know little about him. We wonder if he was known as Sam, a grizzled and perhaps embittered Civil War veteran, or was he called Sammy, a friendly, frolicking happy little boy? Whichever he was, Sam Stilwell was the first citizen of the Empire State whose parents would make a heart wrenching decision each fall over the next 150 years. That decision was to send perhaps their most vulnerable child in some cases hundreds of miles away from home to get an education locally available to that child’s sighted brothers and sisters. For each set of parents and for each child the experience was a little different. For some it was pretty hard to bear, while for others the adjustment came more easily. In fact, for most of us, returning to school following each Labor Day weekend became almost a natural part of our lives. So let us remember for just a few minutes what it was like and what it meant to attend NYSSB.

It is the Tuesday after Labor Day and the vehicle you’re riding in slows down to turn in to NYSSB’s 50 acre campus. Simultaneously, you’re suddenly aware of two contrasting feelings. There’s the lump in your throat because you’ll soon say goodbye to mom and dad. Down in your middle, however, there’s that feeling of excitement and even anticipation for what’s just ahead. As you enter your assigned dormitory, you’re hit by two immediate senses. First, there’s that echo bouncing off the bare cement walls that somehow had escaped your awareness over the summer months at home. Second, there’s that smell and sense of cleanliness about the place. It’s almost the refreshing smell of a new book or automobile.

Before you know it, you’ve been greeted by a houseparent and assigned a room with two roommates. If you’re the first to arrive, you get to pick either the bed by the door, in the middle or by the window. You also get your pick of two drawers in the six drawer dresser. As for your roommates, although a close friend or friends would be preferable, you realize you’ll adjust because those friends will be very close by.

Your sadness immediately after your goodbyes is steadily diminished as your friends arrive in approximately 15 to 20 minute segments of time. There’s much to talk about. You exchange happy summer memories about birthdays, usually birthday presents, vacations, as well as of your and their brothers and sisters. Then there’s the subject of the latest hit songs on the radio. Eventually, you meet and greet the new girl or boy and you’re especially sensitive about her or his homesickness. If the afternoon is bright, you go outside to the playground to swing or just sit under the trees continuing to share your summer experiences.

All too soon it’s supper time. Supper that first night consists of potato salad, baked beans, minced ham or perhaps egg and olive sandwiches, fruit cocktail, a cookie and a glass of milk. You’re greeted once again by familiar waitresses named Bonarigo, Sawyer, Carolonza, Bergman and  perhaps Mrs. Russell, the dietitian. Then, it’s back to the dorm and even more arrivals. As the evening passes, you learn secondhand of new faculty and  staff personnel. If it’s the year 1957, you learn that the Alumni Association has purchased a set of Big Ben Chimes from the Stromberg-Carlson Corporation in Rochester which will change your environment on campus forever. Also that year, you hear of a new nurse, Ann DeSormeau, and new houseparents named Mr. and Mrs. Ellis. Even more surprisingly, you’re told that Mr. Cimino has gone from being the older boys’ housefather to being the school’s combination guidance counselor and high school world history teacher. You learn further that Mr. Paradise has become both a gym and math teacher.

All too soon, it’s bedtime and you crawl between pristinely cleaned sheets and you whisper into the night with your roommates until suddenly the morning bell awakens you from a sleep you never saw coming. As your feet hit the floor, you really and truly get it that summer vacation is over. You dress and report once more to the dining room to gobble down your oatmeal and prunes, a piece of johnnycake and milk or coffee. Then it’s back to the dorm to make your bed and brush your teeth.

The bell rings at 7:55 calling you to this very room. Here, Principal Edward Brayer or, later, Paul Ruhland greets you and, before assigning you to your homeroom, introduces Superintendent Palmer or Sanborn for a formal welcoming message. If it’s the fall of 1962, you’re introduced to the new senior choir director, Henry Emmans. If it’s 1963, you meet the new industrial arts teacher Charles Rufino, the new homemaking teacher Kathy Butters, and the new science teacher Tom Fridy —  you’re told that he has a garden snake named Hector you’re just dying to meet! As for the older boys, they meet Edith Gassman whom many of them will learn to love and cherish just as she loves and cherishes them.

Your grade assignment is no mystery. You learned about that from your July report card. Now, however, the name of your teacher increases the significance of it all. Finally, it’s to your home room where your teacher makes out desk assignments and calls the roll. Next, you receive your first Braille textbook of the season and an intense and rather weighty feeling flavors the atmosphere. Thus, NYSSB’s academic season has begun. Ah! But there’s more to come.

During the days, weeks and months ahead, in addition to academics, you discover once again that life at NYSSB is made up of both the tangible and the intangible. After school, there’s time for riding wagons, scooting on scooters, swinging and sliding in the playgrounds, and roller skating.  On crisp fall weekends, you make leaf forts from the many oak and maple leaf droppings. There are fall field trips. If you’re one of the older boys, you sell brooms on the weekend, not only in Batavia, but you actually hitchhike to nearby towns such as Attica, Oak Field, Medina, Clarence, and Perry where you struggle to earn a few dollars. If you’re one of the older girls, you may work in the dining room as a waitress or even learn how to operate the switchboard from Miss Hammond in the superintendent’s suite. There are jack-o-lanterns, and candy at Halloween. As fall becomes winter, huge wooden slides are erected behind each dormitory so that you can take a sled and slide down a slide with sufficient momentum to continue coasting down the hill at the foot of the slide. Additionally, there are weeknight clubs after study hall. There’s reading club, skating club, swimming club, and the most favored of them all being Mr. Monaghan’s recording club — after all, sound is really where it’s at for you! Sooner than you know, it’s another time of year.

Following an all too brief Thanksgiving holiday, the Christmas season is upon you. There are Christmas parties  and teas. As a member of the junior or senior choir, you’ll perform in the Candle Light service the last Sunday night before Christmas vacation. If you’re really lucky, you’ll be picked to sing in that small group of the senior choir that closes the program with “Silent Night” that fades into the background for those in the audience with such drama that the chills up and down their spines, along with the tears in their eyes, causes them to hug themselves in their Christmas sweaters while wondering if they’ve just developed a wintertime case of hay fever!

As time passes, you understand that, like every aspect of life, living in a residential school isn’t all fun and games. There are rules and regulations, there are unfair and rigid houseparents and teachers, just as there are friendly and unfriendly fellow students. You’re living after all in a cloistered community. In fact, one of your friends every time he meets someone from off campus says: “I met a citizen today.” Above all, life at NYSSB is indeed challenging.

Hence, on this Friday, June 8th, 2018, as the sun approaches the summer solstice,  you and I come full circle. We meet on this stage and in this auditorium where we were assigned our classes, where we performed in the junior and senior choruses, in Mr. Grapka’s orchestra, as well as in plays. From this platform we received academic and athletic awards, thus becoming instant Braille reading and writing notables, track and wrestling stars, singers and even musicians. From this very platform, many of us graduated.

Therefore, from this place, at this time, as President of the NYSSB Alumni Association, I reaffirm, as we celebrate our Centenary, our abiding love and appreciation of our alma mater. 

Since 1918, we’ve returned again and again to our alumni home. Born during World War I,, alumni business has beckoned every year except during World War II and, in 1950, during construction of this very building, Severn Hall. We’ve  returned in peace and prosperity, during national depression and in times of sadness and uncertainty. We’ve sought to share what resources we possess with the current student body. We cordially invite them to join us when their time at school is complete.

Each year we assign ourselves the task of befriending and nurturing one another so that we may retain the energy to serve as far into the future as possible.

We’ll be here next year, and for years after that. We won’t be hard to locate either, because, after all, you’ll find us aboard “The Good Ship Batavia!”

RESPECTFULLY SUBMITTED,

EDWIN COONEY

* From a speech delivered at the 150th anniversary of the New York State School for the Blind - NYSSB.