I’m sure that the college students and mental health professionals who have been leading the effort to impose trigger warnings on textbooks and reading assignments do not realize it, but they could be at the forefront of a massive public safety campaign.

For the uninitiated: Trigger warnings on books are designed to protect readers from harmful content or ideas that might contribute to pre-existing mental health conditions.They are controversial in higher education circles. Some colleges and universities say that reading assignments should stand on their own, and they are not supposed to coddle students; others say that they are trying to be sensitive to their students’ issues and that readers deserve a warning if something is likely to cause a panic attack or contribute to PTSD.

Well, here’s an idea and it doesn’t require a pesky reading assignment:  how about trigger warnings where they really belong: on real triggers, on actual guns.

Americans have been spectacularly unsuccessful in legislating almost any kind of gun control.  Maybe we should narrow our sights, so to speak. Maybe we could focus on trigger control.

In truth, it would be possible to do this tomorrow if the NRA (Normally Recalcitrant Assholes) got out of the way. Technology exists that would enable gun manufacturers to produce “smart guns”—weapons that could not be fired unless the fingerprint of the legitimate owner was putting pressure on the trigger. This would not solve the problem created when the gun owner goes ballistic and decides to invade a classroom, but it would certainly solve the trigger problem when a child obtains a gun or the firearm is stolen.

The idea of a smart gun seems especially relevant now, when the NRA (see above) and many Republican-controlled state legislatures are attempting to legalize guns on college campuses. What could possibly go wrong with this idea? Perhaps nothing.

Let’s put a trigger warning on every door and hope that the guns are smarter than the people who carry them.

The post Put trigger warnings in their proper place: on actual triggers appeared first on Occasional Planet.

I’ve often been told that writers write in order to figure things out.That is definitely the case with this piece, in which I feel compelled to explore the current controversy surrounding the “Direct Drive” exhibit at the Contemporary Art Museum in St. Louis.

“Direct Drive,” an exhibit of work by Kelley Walker, features magazine photographs of black men and women that have been digitally manipulated and then smeared with chocolate and toothpaste. While other works by the artist are also on display, these images have triggered outrage and a public boycott of the museum. Many of the protestors are members of St. Louis’s black community; they have demanded that the works be removed and the museum issue a public apology for hanging them.

Let me be clear: I am not an artist and I have no expertise in the art world.  I have served as a docent at a sculpture park and somewhere along the way I took an art history class.  I like art and I enjoy museums. In the current controversy, I am less troubled by the images than I am about the arguments.

After visiting the exhibit, I came home with a copy of the gallery guide and tried to think critically about the controversy. Part of the problem between those who inhabit the rarefied atmosphere of the art world and us lesser mortals is, I believe, a problem of language. Artists and those who write about their work often use “art speak”—-a version of the English language that seldom clarifies, and often muddies, the water.  Therefore, when the gallery guide says that “Walker creates gestural abstractions and alludes to consumption, objectification, and impermanence,” many of us remain confused.  This was apparently an issue when the artist and a curator participated in a talk at the museum. The artist, who is white, was described as “hostile” when visitors inquired about his use of images of black civil rights leaders and black women on magazine covers.

Is it important for artists to be able to explain their work? I don’t know.

Some of the protestors complain that Walker’s images are “offensive” and “disrespectful.” While I acknowledge these feelings, I also wonder: are works of art supposed to be non-controversial? Is the purpose of a painting to show respect? If so, to whom—-the model on the canvas? the viewer? What about respect for the artist’s vision?  Shouldn’t he be allowed to express it? British painter Lucian Freud once said that “the task of the artist is to make the human being uncomfortable.” If that is the goal, then Walker has succeeded admirably.

Another complaint about this exhibit is that it is being shown in St. Louis, a city that has experienced racial unrest in the wake of Michael Brown’s death. Does place matter where art is shown? If the answer to that is “yes,” then a lot of cities (Baltimore, Chicago, Charlotte) will be eliminated from Walker’s prospective venues. It might be argued that art lovers in these cities would be even more receptive to discussing and critiquing his work.

I don’t know how to respond to this work, any more than I knew what to think about Chris Ofili’s “Black Madonna,” a painting of the Virgin Mary decorated with dried elephant dung that was produced in 1999 (and later sold for $4.6 million). I don’t know if works of art have to have “meaning” or if it’s enough for them to stand on their own, without explanation. I don’t know if the powers that be in the art world are exhibiting “lily white ignorance” of issues that might inflame their communities. I do know that violent and painful images abound in the art world, and some people may be offended by almost anything.

In an attempt to avoid offense, the Contemporary Art Museum found a solution that will probably satisfy nobody. It is erecting barriers to shield viewers from the offending works; the barriers will feature signs that explain the objections to the work and museum-goers can decide for themselves what they want to see.

While this controversy has been difficult for the artist, painful for the protestors, challenging for museum officials, and somewhat baffling for the rest of us, it is probably ultimately good for the city of St. Louis. It has made some of us think and question our assumptions about art. It has probably increased attendance at the Museum. It’s given some of us something new and different to protest. And it’s quite possible that the situation will end up saying more about St. Louis and its citizens than it ever does about Kelly Walker his work.

The post Direct Drive: When art is politically controversial appeared first on Occasional Planet.

Does the image of an armored truck, outfitted with 360-degree surveillance cameras and secured by body-camera-toting security guards, parked on the lot of a bar in downtown St. Louis, fill you with civic pride?

If so, welcome to militarized St. Louis. This is the city that sported a tank in its Gay Pride parade. Now we are being asked to host a “gun truck” — an idea that was hatched by a former St. Louis County police chief, who apparently equates public safety with armed citizenry.

Despite repeated pleas from St. Louis Police Chief Sam Dotson not to bring guns downtown, apparently some suburb-dwellers are either so afraid of the city, or so attached to their firearms, or both, that they are unwilling to attend a baseball game without packing heat. Thus, the gun truck idea was born. For just $10 (or $15, if you pay by credit card), the truck will baby-sit your Beretta while you enjoy a few beers at the ballpark.

There are so many disturbing things about this idea that it’s hard to know where to start.

First, the idea that you need to be armed at all times is just another attempt to make it seem normal to carry a weapon wherever you go. We can thank the National Rifle Association and the gun industry for this; as our national fear and paranoia increase, so do their profits.

Second, it is really unfortunate that so many people are trying to portray downtown St. Louis as unsafe. Much of this stems from the tragic shooting of Christopher Sanna, who was shot in 2015 after he and his girlfriend left Busch Stadium. Following this horrific event, security in the city was beefed up before and after sporting events. Much credit for clear-eyed thinking goes to Sanna himself, who was quoted in this newspaper in October 2015, saying: “We have to be able to come up with something other than everyone carrying a gun.”

Sound public policy and good business decisions are seldom made as a result of a few isolated incidents. What does happen after these incidents are efforts to make us all afraid. The result is something as ludicrous as a gun truck. Never underestimate the ability of fear to make us do stupid things. Never doubt the greed of some entrepreneurs to make money off our fears.

“Don’t take your guns to town, son

Leave your guns at home, Bill

Don’t take your guns to town.”

Maybe we should start to mind our mothers.

[Editor’s note: This post was originally published on July 13, 2016 in the Op-Ed section of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch.  It is reprinted with permission of the author.]

The post Do we really need babysitters for Barettas? appeared first on Occasional Planet.

Whenever I think my progressive values might need a reality check, all I have to do is go to the online version of my local daily newspaper and read some of the comments readers post about various articles.

I should know not to do this. My blood pressure has been high recently, and this can’t help. But many of the people who post about articles (the St. Louis Post-Dispatch calls some of them “top commenters” and rewards them with a star) have such a different world view than I do that it’s become almost my dirty little secret that I check in on them periodically.

My latest foray into this journalistic underbelly occurred when I read an online article headlined “St. Charles County parents sentenced to 7 years in prison for caging autistic son.”  The article described how Terry and Victoria Smith, who were convicted of child endangerment after their severely autistic six-year-old son was discovered in a crib/cage in their basement, received the maximum sentence allowed. They were also fined $500 each.

Never mind that the Smiths have five other children at home. Never mind that the family physician testified that all of the children were well cared for. Never mind that no one cared enough to help this family and provide an appropriate safe bed for their child. Never mind that the parents have never been in trouble with the law before.

Early posters on the “commentverse” went into gear immediately. Some samples: “These parents are horrible, horrible people.” “Get these two nut jobs out of parenting business.” “Not long enough.” “Should have been 70 years.” “These people should not get the chance to be free ever again.” “This is what the parents deserve.”

There are so many disturbing things about this that it’s hard to know where to start. First, with the sentence: six little children will be separated from their parents and from each other for a very long time. It will cost the state of Missouri much more to provide for these kids in foster care than it would have cost to provide some help for the family. And when the parents get out of prison, they will be felons. Good luck getting a job with that on your record.

Wouldn’t it have been smarter, kinder and more economical to provide some help for this family? The parents are probably not stupid, they were probably completely overwhelmed by the needs of their children and their inability to provide for them.

Second, about the comments: I realize that with this piece I, too, am commenting on the article (Occasional Planet does not need to give me a star). Those who share my views, and those who don’t, can respond. I can take being called a bleeding-heart liberal, or worse. What I have difficulty with is the level of hate and venom many of the Post commenters directed toward this family.

For those who think seven years in prison for two people who made one serious parenting mistake is an appropriate sentence, I have a suggestion: do something to help one of the Smith children while their parents are away. They are the ones who will be paying the penalty for this decision, which masquerades as justice in St. Charles County, Missouri.

The post On-line commenters: The underbelly of journalism and justice in Missouri appeared first on Occasional Planet.

Millions of words have been written about Medicaid, and the failure to expand it, in Missouri. The words have fallen on deaf ears. Maybe we need to buy our legislators hearing aids? Or, maybe instead of words, we need to add lights….cameras….action, as in this two-act morality play about those who have misplaced their morals.

TIME: Spring, 2015

PLACE: Small town in Missouri

ACT I: Our hero is walking down the street carrying a heavy backpack. It is stuffed with money. On the corner he meets a man and woman who are having a bake sale. They are shivering in their threadbare sweaters and look frail and vulnerable.

MAN: “Would you like to buy a cookie? We’re trying to raise money so I can have surgery for my leaky heart valve.”

WOMAN: “We hate to ask for charity; we both work. I’m a home health aide and he’s a stocker at Walmart. We don’t have any health insurance through work and we make too much for Medicaid.”

MAN: “It would be nice to have a doctor so we don’t have to go to the emergency room all the time.”

WOMAN: “How about some pie? This is a new recipe for a pie called ‘humble.’”

Our hero ignores them, although the money is making his backpack very heavy. He goes to another corner, where he sees a man in a Brooks Brothers suit and highly-polished Gucci shoes with a Louis Vuitton briefcase open in front of him.

MAN: “Hey! Would you like to buy some managed care? We have some on sale today! And just for you, we are offering some real deals. Phone apps, to remind our clients of their doctor’s appointments (if they can find a doctor, of course). And exercise videos! And gift cards for celery for our overweight clients! But those phone apps, man! They are a real deal! But first, you may need this:”

The man whips out his checkbook and writes a big check to our hero, who stuffs it in his pocket. He then opens his backpack and dumps the entire contents into the man’s Louis Vuitton briefcase.

INTERMISSION: Audience comments: “We would NEVER do that.” OFFSTAGE VOICE: “But you just did. You elected people to your legislature who just voted to deny medical coverage to 300,000 low-income Missourians and throw thousands more onto the altar of managed care, where one company reported a 90 percent increase in profits last year. Do I need to point out that this is taxpayer money?“

ACT II: Managed care guy takes a bill and wipes a speck of dust off his shoes. To an aide, he says, “Get the jet over here quick. I only made $19.3 million last year; I need to get back to work!”

On the other corner, the bake sale man and wife are packing up their home-baked goods and wiping up the crumbs.

The post Medicaid: A two-act morality play for Missouri voters appeared first on Occasional Planet.

Where is Don Draper when we need him?

Draper, of course, is the iconic 1960s advertising executive who stars in the hit TV series, Mad Men. He’s a chain-smoking, hard-drinking, womanizing city slicker of questionable morals who occasionally does something brilliant. Perhaps his most memorable advertising accomplishment occurred when his firm, Sterling Cooper Draper Price, lost its lucrative account marketing Lucky Strike cigarettes.

Draper’s response was to buy a full-page ad in the New York Times that read:

“For over 25 years we devoted ourselves to peddling a product for which good work is irrelevant, because people can’t stop themselves from buying it. A product that never improves, that causes illness, and makes people unhappy. But there was money in it. A lot of money. In fact, our entire business depended on it. We knew it wasn’t good for us, but we couldn’t stop. And then, when Lucky Strike moved their business elsewhere, I realized, here was my chance to be someone who could sleep at night, because I know what I’m selling doesn’t kill my customers.”

I wonder what the man who wrote that would say about the full-page ad that appeared in a recent issue of Parade magazine, a slim Sunday supplement that is inserted in many of the nation’s largest newspapers. The ad headline reads: “Who Says Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend?” Above the headline, in four-color glory, is a picture of a rifle.

Oh, but it’s not just any rifle. This is the hand-crafted “American Beauty” by Henry. It features an etched silver panel centered with a demure yellow rose. The copy says that the Henry Company is “very proud to offer the perfect Valentine’s Day gift for the most deserving woman in your life.”

I guess there are some women who would not find this silly. Personally, I find it a frightening example of a new marketing trend that is being promoted by gun manufacturers, their lobbyists and trade associations, and the NRA. That trend is to promote firearms as an everyday accessory; something we can’t leave home without.

How else to explain the pistols in pastel colors? The purses with a special compartment for a handgun? The child-size rifle with “My First Rifle” in rhinestones? The recent emphasis on open-carry, which means that we can meet up with gun-toting grannies in the supermarket?

Don Draper the advertising guru would undoubtedly find this a marvelous marketing strategy. Make people think of a firearm as a necessary accessory, like a scarf or a billfold. Make people think that “everyone has one.” Make people feel that they deserve something special. Develop the product line to fit into various niches: a beginner rifle for kids, a sophisticated firearm for the working woman, an assault weapon for the testosterone-fueled adolescent.

But there was another Don Draper: the man who wanted to be able to sleep at night because he knew that what he was selling wasn’t killing people. Maybe that Don Draper would write this ad:

We’ve had you in our crosshairs for a while because we know that you like to feel special. You like to feel important and powerful. The firearms that we have been advertising can make you feel that way. But what we haven’t told you is that these weapons can also make you, or someone who gets in your sights, dead. We are going to dodge the bullet of responsibility and resign this account right now, because we don’t believe that buying a gun should be as easy or as pleasurable as buying a candy bar. Arms should be for hugging, not killing.

Wish you were here, Don Draper.

The post Ad says rifles are a girl’s best friend appeared first on Occasional Planet.

Of all the news stories that have been written about the sad horror of the August shooting in Ferguson, MO, has there ever been a more puzzling one than the Oct. 15 front-page story in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, headlined “Clergy-led protest raises questions over nature of repentance”?

Post reporter Lillly Fowler described an event that occurred on “Moral Monday,” when “a gang of clergy” (her words) marched to the Ferguson Police Department, confronted officers, and asked them to repent.

Despite the fact that demanding repentance on a public street seems inherently coercive, this seems like an ill-advised and ultimately disrespectful action. We know that many police officers in St. Louis engage in racial profiling and use excessive force, but why single out these Ferguson officers as scapegoats for our entire system of law enforcement?

If the clergy want to protest and demand repentance, we can think of some organizations and individuals that engage in institutional and systemic racism that may be equally as damaging as that practiced by those who are supposed to protect and serve us.

For example, why not confront those legislators in Jefferson City who have enabled an out-of-control gun culture to flourish in our inner city and small suburbs? Black-on-black crime has killed more young men for more years than any too-quick-to-pull-the-trigger police officers. Clergy of all faiths believe that idolatry is evil, and in our society guns have become idols. Doesn’t this call for repentance?

While they’re in Jefferson City, our clergy could ask our legislators to repent for forcing 300,000 low-income Missourians, both black and white, to go without health insurance simply because our law-makers don’t like the Affordable Care Act that our black president was able to enact.

Or maybe they would like to protest the continuing efforts to promote voter ID laws, a poll tax in disguise, which would disenfranchise thousands of voters. Change begins at the ballot box, and making it difficult or impossible for certain individuals to cast their votes is one way to ensure that the status quo remains.

If they have any time left, clergy could protest the payday lenders, who snare low-income individuals into a cycle of debt that can trap them for years. Or they could demand repentance from those in the judicial system, where black men and women receive far harsher sentences than their white counterparts for the same crimes. Or they could take on the educational system, where students in poor school districts are often doomed to failure because of sub-standard facilities, a lack of supplies, and teachers who have not learned appropriate classroom management skills.

Our clergy could be very busy.

To be fair, many members of the clergy have gone to Jefferson City and have spoken out about issues of social injustice. They have marched, and talked, and prayed with lawmakers and others. But until the week of Oct. 13 in Ferguson, I’m not aware that anyone has called for repentance.

True repentance means change, and change happens one person at a time. Rather than confronting and potentially embarrassing individuals when reporters and photographers are present, the clergy might have considered a more respectful way to talk to officers about their roles in the system. True repentance probably will not be a media event.

Racism is an evil and it does exist in our community today. It is damaging all of us. So it is up to all of us: those who make rules, those who write legislation, those who vote, those who shop, those who donate money, those who teach, those who preach, and those who want something better for all our children—it is up to us to wake up. Now. We need to pay attention to what is going on.

We don’t need scapegoats. Maybe we don’t need repentance, which is a religious construct. What we do need is to change.

The post After Ferguson: Repentance is not a media event appeared first on Occasional Planet.

It happens every year, in the early spring.  Right before we become obsessed with NCAA basketball, and several weeks before pollen blankets our patio furniture, Parade Magazine treats us to its annual rundown titled “What People Earn.”  It’s a fascinating, frustrating look at our American economic system and what capitalism has wrought.  It’s one of those articles that makes you sick, but you can’t put it down.

Because Parade is a supplement in the Sunday newspapers in major metropolitan areas, and because so few of us even bother to subscribe to printed newspapers any more, it might be a good idea to recap the highlights and lowlights of “What People Earn.”

Here are some of the lowlights; workers in America who earn under $100,000 per year:

A civilian psychologist for the U.S. Army.  A botanical photographer who searches for rare plants.  A historic preservationist.  A designer who creates 3-D virtual models for Navy stealth destroyer ships.  A library director.  A pediatric speech pathologist.  A sign language instructor.  A waste-water treatment plant operator.  Lab technicians.  Day care providers.  Public safety dispatchers.  Substitute teachers.  An educational theater specialist.  Pastors.  A nuclear security training instructor.  A pathology assistant who analyzes surgical specimens.  An associate professor who teaches welding.  A weapons technician, a bookstore owner, an emergency flight nurse, and a special needs school bus driver.

Think about this.  Some of these people are creative, blazing new trails and looking to make a difference.  Many of them are the people who take care of us, and our children.  They work to make our lives better, healthier, more productive.  If they don’t show up for work, we may suffer.  And most of these individuals make much less than $100,000 per year.

Now here are a few of the highlights; individuals who mostly earn well over $100,000 per year:

A tennis champion.  A pop music sensation.  An actor-producer who collects $500,000 per episode.  Comedians, actresses, football players, singer/songwriters.  A spa owner.  A celebrity chef, who earns an extra $100,000 for each personal appearance.  A bridal shop owner.  A country music star and a reality show coach.  An actor/producer who made $7 million doing perfume ads.  Professional basketball players.  And an actress who made $160,000 per pound for each of the 25 pounds that she lost for her last role.

Oh, and we can’t forget someone named “Honey Boo Boo” Thompson, a seven-year-old star of a reality TV show who makes about $50,000 per episode and whose net worth is estimated to be more than $300,000.

Now think about these folks.  These are people who entertain us.  Certainly, most of them are greatly talented, and we enjoy watching them perform.  They can make us happy.  But they don’t teach us, they don’t take care of us, and they don’t really make our lives better.  More fun, yes.  But not necessarily better.

It’s interesting that Parade fails to include some of the titans of industry; those CEOs and Wall Street wonders whose million-dollar bonuses have become commonplace during the past few years.  Perhaps the editors of the supplement believe that we can read all about them in the Wall Street Journal or in the business pages of our daily papers. Also excluded are politicians, who seem to amass great wealth once they step into the halls of power in Washington, DC.

One week before the Parade magazine article appeared, the New York Times ran an article headlined “Swiss Voters Approve a Plan to Severely Limit Executive Compensation.”  Almost 68 percent of Swiss voters backed a plan to impose some of the world’s most severe restrictions on executive pay.  In the run-up to the vote, bankers and prominent executives were accused of receiving “rip off” pay packages.

Americans are being ripped off, too, and it’s undoubtedly going to take more than a few newspaper articles or Sunday supplements to make us aware of the economic disparities that we seem happy to tolerate right now.  I don’t know what it’s going to take.  But personally, I’d like to see some of the money that Honey Boo Boo is making go to the guy who shows up every day to operate the waste water treatment plant.

The post Honey Boo Boo versus the wastewater treatment guy appeared first on Occasional Planet.

On Saturday, January 26, when page three of my morning newspaper featured a story about four local homicides, and when people in cities across the country were marching under the banner of “One Million Moms for Gun Control,” I went to a gun show.

Actually, it was advertised as a “Gun and Knife Show,” but the knives seemed to be an afterthought. Potential customers were urged to “buy now before the law changes.”  The place was packed.

Disclaimer: I hate guns. I have never owned or shot a gun. No one in my family has guns and, as far as I know, no one has any intention of buying one.

So why did I go to a gun show?

I told myself, in my self-righteous way, that I wanted to try to understand the gun culture. While I have often referred to people as “right-wing gun nuts,” I thought I might gain some insight into the way they think and behave. But to be brutally honest about it,  I thought I would hate the show and dislike the people. Then, I thought, I might write some high-minded piece filled with snarky comments that would convince people that gun violence has gotten out of hand here.

The snark got off to a good start. My husband remarked that I had the only Prius on the parking lot. I retorted that it was fitting that the gun show was held in a hall next door to a Target store.

Then I paid my $8, walked into a hall where the testosterone was so thick it could have been bottled, found an older gentleman with a collection of arms that I could confront, and….I fell in love with a gun.

You cannot know how it astonishes me to write those last seven words.

Wayne (we were quickly on a first-name basis) could easily tell that I didn’t have a clue about what I was looking at. Because I’m an older woman, and petite, he figured out that I probably didn’t want an AK-47. He directed me to case where pistols were displayed, commenting that I was probably looking for something “for personal protection.”

Then he placed in my hand a Walther 40-calibre handgun that cost $675.

It was the most seductive thing I’ve ever held.

Just the right size. Just the right weight. I felt powerful, calm, and in total control.

Wayne urged me to take a picture of the gun with my cell phone, which I did.

When the camera clicked, my brain woke up. “This,” I thought, “is a gateway gun. This is how people become ‘gun enthusiasts.’ If holding one gun in a gun show can make me feel so good, just imagine how a collection of weapons could make me feel.”

Wayne would have sold me that Walther in a heartbeat, with no background check required because the gun is a part of his private stash. My astonished spouse grabbed my arm and dragged me away to view some assault rifles, which, fortunately, I did not lust after.

There were other things about the gun show that surprised/annoyed/disgusted me: a table full of books, with titles such as “The Shooter’s Bible,”; specially-crafted fabric cases designed to carry assault rifles, with as many as a dozen pouches where ammunition can be carried, proudly proclaiming “Made In The U.S.A”; a brand of handgun for women that comes in a variety of colors, including lavender, raspberry and teal, and a small single-shot bolt-action rifle encased in pink plastic with “My First Rifle” stamped on it.

I was surprised that the gun sellers were so easy to talk to and so eager to answer my questions. I was amazed that so many of the young men who were obviously shopping wanted to get into the conversation. I was disturbed because so many people seemed convinced that the government is determined to take away their guns. And I was absolutely dumbfounded when, in a place where I was convinced that I would not know a soul, a loud voice called out, “Hey! Aren’t you Barbara?” It belonged to a man I had not seen in more than 30 years; we used to work together at a local hospital.

After this afternoon’s experience, what can I say about guns? I still hate them, despite my desire for the Walther, because I think their only purpose is to kill or injure others. I still think that the world would be a better, safer place if assault rifles and large-capacity magazine clips were banned. I still think that background checks for every gun purchaser should be required. I think gun buy-back programs are a good idea; I think conceal-carry legislation is a terrible idea. I think that organizations like the NRA have fomented fear among gun-owners and have created a climate to fuel paranoia. And if I ever have to choose between One Million Moms For Gun Control and a seductive little pistol that feels so good in my hand…..I’ll stick with the moms.

But today, I do understand a little better, and I wonder if there might be common ground for common sense gun control.

The post A funny thing happened on my way to the gun show appeared first on Occasional Planet.

As an admitted control freak, it pains me to write these words. But the truth is:  some people have too much control.

You don’t have to look far to see it. In Washington, Grover Norquist has too much control. In the world of sports, some think that Baseball Commissioner Bud Selig has too much power. Donald Trump and Carl Icahn and the Koch Brothers come to mind.  And right here in Missouri we have, surprisingly, Gov. Jay Nixon.

Nixon is a middle-of-the-road Democrat saddled with a Republican legislature.He seems to prefer to keep a low profile and doesn’t like to make waves. But in one area, he has ultimate authority: the power to grant pardons or clemency to any of the 31,000 individuals locked up in Missouri prisons.

This is an awesome responsibility, and it’s one that a few other states have seen fit to grant to special boards or commissions rather than the chief executive. That’s a sound idea, and can be explained in two words: Willie Horton.

Willie Horton was a convicted felon serving a life sentence in a Massachusetts prison in 1986. He was released as part of a weekend furlough program, and he failed to return.  While he was out he raped a woman and committed several other crimes before he was captured and put back in prison in Maryland.

Michael Dukakis was governor of Massachusetts when Horton was furloughed. When Dukakis sought the presidency two years later, the Willie Horton episode came to be a major factor in the campaign against him. He was portrayed as “soft on crime,” and this portrayal may have been one of the factors responsible for his defeat.

Jay Nixon is a lame-duck governor, but he has been mentioned as a possible candidate for the U. S. Senate, or even the vice presidency. With sugar plums like this dancing in his head, is it any wonder that the specter of Willie Horton looms large?

The governor could be relieved of a daunting and possibly perilous act if the power to grant clemency was removed from his office and granted to the state Board of Probation and Parole. Perhaps experts in criminal justice or psychiatry could be added to the panel when clemency is considered for qualified prisoners who likely pose no threat to society. The result might be more second chances for those who have made grievous mistakes and tried to pay their debt to society.

I feel sorry for Gov. Nixon. He has a number of clemency petitions on his desk. One is for a woman who killed her abusive husband; she has been a model prisoner for many years. If she is forced to complete her sentence, she will be 86 years old when she is released. Another is for a man who committed murder when he was 20 years old; the jury was not informed that he possibly acted in self-defense. His sentence was 50 years without the possibility of parole.

Granting clemency to these and others will require the governor to demonstrate both cojones and compassion; courage and conviction, and some common sense.  Let’s hope that he can remember that one of the synonyms for clemency is “mercy.”

The post Clemency for prisoners: Too much control, not enough compassion appeared first on Occasional Planet.