That big laugh. That scoop-you-in enthusiasm. And while she doesn’t own a pet lizard like the famous Magic School Bus teacher, Joanne does have Rosie the Resistance Bird, the parakeet whose occasional shrieks feature prominently on her podcasts.
But almost every pod I’ve seen of her, she’s giggling. Or crowing, “LIVE!” (then laughing at her own glee). If what you need in these days of constant heartache and gut-wrenching worry about our vulnerable fellow Americans, environment, and democracy is a reminder of the “power of We”…Joanne Freeman is your woman.
Aside from her piercing insights on things like the role of white supremacy in our nation’s current shitshow state, and her abiding love for Alexander Hamilton, my favorite thing about Joanne Freeman is her tenderness with her listeners. “A Few Thoughts For Those Who Can’t Sleep” kind of says it all, doesn’t it? (Though her buddy HCR jokes that most folks call it “Freeman After Dark.) She’s there for us–literally.
At the end of each of these late-night (or evening, if you’re on Western time) sessions, Dr. Freeman has a set of rituals guaranteed to warm your heart. With a sense of joyful ceremony, she holds these items up, one at a time:
a whistle: to remind us to look out for each other, and stand up for each other, like the people in Minneapolis
2. a little tin labelled “Chutzpah”: to remind us to “Be strong and of good courage,” a quote from a onetime professor of hers, which she uses as a mantra
Who doesn’t need this?????
When it comes to Dr. Joanne Freeman, I say: Come for the scholarship. Stay for the…
I know. I looked! But this guys is young and fresh and new. And so are his takes. And that’s why I follow him.
from Ahmed Baba’s popular Substack, Ahmed Baba News
I first ran into Ahmed through my favorite hands-on political org, Common Power. Not only was he canvassing with CP, as I was, in battleground states leading up to the 2024 debacle election, he was breaking through as an independent journalist in a place I (and so many of us) have turned to since 11/2024: Substack. (See also: The Contrarian, Joyce Vance, Marc Elias…)
I still love watching Ahmed compare political notes with Common Power’s Executive Director Charles Douglas:
Ahmed was one of my first “follows” on this new platform. Not only did he follow me back, but whenever I’d write a personal note about some major milestone in his young life–his marriage, the birth of his first child–Ahmed would respond. Somehow, though this guy seems to be everywhere! he has time to interact with the folks who rely on him for his un-bought perspective.
That “everywhere” thing? Here’s Ahmed on MSNOW:
Here he is with Don Lemon, on Don’s own channel, Lemon Drop:
Ahmed’s special sauce is connecting with folks whose perspectives you might not have considered…like citizens of the UK. A regular guest is his Scottish buddy James Matthews, in a segment they call “Across the Pond” (note, in this clip, James has had very poor sleep–he’s not usually THAT pale! Or maybe he is):
While Ahmed’s mind is sharp and his soul deep, it’s his authenticity I most value as a guide, these choppy days. He has to wear a suit for his TV appearances, but otherwise there he is in his polo shirt, cussing where necessary but never showing off. “Say it with your chest” is one of his frequent comments.
More of that, please. PLEASE. I highly recommend you check out Ahmed Baba News if you haven’t already, and pass it on to someone else who’s feeling let down by legacy media.
In the Department of Guiding Lights, there’s the North Star (see my piece on Heather Cox Richardson); the twinkly path-markers known as The Contrarian, and several more which offer both inspiration and guidance to folks like us. (Watch this space!)
Marc Elias in 2024 (photo courtesy Wikimedia Commons)
According to Ken Vogel of The New York Times, “Elias has arguably done more than any single person outside government to shape the Democratic Party and the rules under which all campaigns and elections in the United States are conducted.” (October 30, 2024, as quoted by Wikipedia.org)
Marc’s political bio is far too voluminous for me to sum up here; please check out Wikipedia or Democracy Docket itself for all the details of presidents and almost-presidents he’s worked for, trials he’s worked on, resistance fighters he’s supported.
What matters to me now, and what I hope (assume? since you’re reading this) matters to you is: his law firm has taken the Trump administration (regime) to court dozens of times…and of the cases already decided, Elias Law Group is 23 and 0.
That’s 23 wins for Elias’ democracy warriors; 23 LOSSES for Trump.
A fighter who springs to action when democracy is threatened, like if Batman wore a suit & tie? That’s who I want on my side, heading into the scariest electoral period in our country’s history since 1860.
Marc? That you? (image courtesy Wikimedia)
I’m not a lawyer; don’t want to be. But I DO want to fight to keep the Trump regime’s mitts off my election data. I do want to keep their ICE thugs from intimidating my neighbors at the polls. I want the rule of law back.
That’s why I support Democracy Docket with a small subscription. I hope you’ll consider doing the same. Marc & Co left behind their lucrative former law careers to fight for us.The least we can do is be Robin to their Batman.
Norm Eisen (formerly Obama’s Ethics Czar, lead counsel on the first Trump impeachment trial…etc) [courtesy Wikimedia]
In January 2025, Norm Eisen–CNN analyst, former ambassador to the Czech Republic, the list of roles goes on & on, click here for more–joined forces with a Washington Post journalist, Jennifer Rubin, who had quit the WaPo following its Trumpian purge by owner Jeff Bezos. Together, Norm and Jen created The Contrarian, on Substack. Meet Jen:
[courtesy Wikimedia]
Since I’ve never been a WaPo reader, I didn’t know that Jen Rubin had started life as a conservative Republican. By the time I started listening to her, following Trump’s second inauguration, she sounded just like me: alarmed, pissed off, and raring to fight fascism. Does that sound like you too? You’ll love Jen.With a journalist’s razor-sharp vision, she not only distills what’s at stake, she lets readers know how to help fight for our democracy.
BEST OF ALL (notice I saved this for last): all paid subscriptions to The Contrarian (you CAN read & listen for free…but should you??) go to fund Lawyer Norm as he takes on the Trump Regime in case after case after case (all Ws so far, by the way). It brings me special pride to know that I am helping the fight in such a LITERAL way.
And in navigating this current turbulence—both national, and, more recently in my case, personal—she’s also my North Star. (Here I confess I don’t actually know if Polaris forms part of what mariners look to…but I know the North Star led folks out of slavery, and that’s the choppiest chop there is. So: let’s roll with it.)
(image by Andres Nieto Porras, courtesy Wikimedia Commons)
Reading and listening to HCR (especially listening; her voice is so calm) has been keeping my keel evened since the 2024 debacle election. If you’re reading this, you’re probably in the HCR choir so I should quit preaching. But just in case you’re not…
Through her Letters From an American series, HCR puts the daily outrages of the current regime into perspective. Yes, this is horrible…but it also looks a lot like the 1850s. The 1890s. The 1920s. Etc.
1850s attempted murder in the Senate, anyone? (courtesy Wikimedia)
Through her Politics Chats, (on YouTube, Substack and Facebook) HCR draws a line through the chaos, connecting dots, allowing us to see patterns, to understand. What do all these awful news stories have in common? Grift. Corruption. White supremacy. Etc.
(Plus she has an adorable habit of reading aloud all the towns and countries people beam in from to listen to her livestream.)
Through her current 250 to 250 series—which should seriously win some kind of media prize—HCR reminds us what it means to have pride and joy in our own country, its government, lands, history. Want to celebrate America’s 250th more meaningfully than watching a cage fight? Here are 250 1-minute snippets on everything that makes us US.
(Most of the 250 are narrated by other people, some famous, some just appropriate. Heather herself only narrates two…but it’s telling which two she chose.)
HCR is also fun and funny. My favorite podcasts are her weekly(ish) chats with fellow American historian Joanne Freeman, “What the Heck Just Happened.” There, serious unpacking of the week’s stuff comes with healthy discussion of M ‘n’ Ms, cleaning your bathroom, and Gary the Apple Guy, and they end each session telling each other “I love you.” Can’t begin to express what a balm this is.
If you’ve clicked on some of the above links, you’ve now found your way into HCR World, but just to be clear: look for Heather Cox Richardson on YouTube, on Substack, or just Google her and see what pops up.
I guarantee you will feel heartened, bolstered, and…guided. Sail on!
In my last post, I highlighted three “navigational markers” that are keeping me going in seas which feel rougher than usual. #1 is family and friends. Nuff said there.
But #2 and 3 are “using historians, legal minds, politicians and activists to keep myself inspired and motivated,” and then AMPLIFYING THAT INSPIRATION AND MOTIVATION.
That starts here, with an activist I’m willing to bet most (all but one?) of y’all have never heard of: Tomiekia Johnson.
Photo submitted by Nevaeh Lemons
Tomiekia and I have known each other for six years. I call her TJ; she calls me Gretch. We have never met, because I live on a small island in the Pacific Northwest, and she is incarcerated in central California.
Me writing TJ. (kidding–it’s Woman Writing a Letter, c. 1655, by Borsh, courtesy Wikimedia Commons)
Eventually we got into (what I call) Planet Prison’s method of email—one more way for the Prison Industrial Complex to squeeze money out of people in need. Subject to constant censorship and glitches, it still allows a certain amount of back-and-forth missing from paper letters. This year, we added weekly phone calls to the mix. But it’s Tomiekia’s WRITING that I want to lift up here.
“Prison journalist” does not begin to describe this woman’s pounding energy in exposing injustice “behind barz.” Because inmates are severely limited in communication with the outside world, I took on the role of Tomiekia’s editor. She sends me rough drafts (in short chunks as required by Securus, a subsidiary of JPay). I edit, send chunks back. Lately, we’ve started editing over the phone. When we have a final draft, I pitch it to a series of online mags who’ve shown interest in Tomiekia’s voice and topics over the years.
We’re pretty proud of her latest in Prism, on the importance–practical and symbolic–of Black women’s hair care behind barz. Read it here.
NOT the braids TJ’s describing! (Couldn’t find a photo of Nipsey’s braids on Wikimedia)
My hope, shared by Tomiekia and her loved ones, is to amplify her voice, justice issues and energy by combining our forces. So: if you “like” and follow me? Subscribe to @therealtj on Substack. But don’t blame me if she blows your mind.
Chop. Swirl. Eddies. Currents. Unexpected wavelets, even waves, hitting from all sides, throwing you off balance, interfering with forward movement. Obscuring forward movement. Where am I headed, anyway? Where’s this interference coming from? Should I drift for a moment or power through? What new challenges will either choice unleash? Which way should I steer?
I am neither historian nor lobsterwoman. But—in case you’ve wondered whether Wing’s World has fallen off the face of the earth—I’ve been living this metaphor for the last several months. Chop, for me, has set blogging wayyyyy back as a priority. Only now am I coming to realize I might need this blog as a navigational marker to sail on through this stuff.
I have always considered myself the person least touched by adversity of any I’ve met. I even wrote a song about it, from the perspective of someone who got all the bad shit I’ve avoided: “Who got my sunshine, who got my ease?/Does she realize her fortune? Will you tell her, please?” The song ends, “Hope she’ll be ready when her skies turn black.”
This year, my skies finally darkened.
In December, my high school bestie died, with no chance to say goodbye. A week later, a close local friend died. In February, the Mate’s health circumstances took a hard turn. And in early June, my amazing father, Peter Klopfer, died.
Add to that the national shitstorm we’re all living through, and…
[photo courtesy Wikimedia Commons]
Another favorite topic of HCR (Heather Cox Richardson) is navigational markers. In my personal chop, I have decided to focus on these few to guide me:
Interdependence on and with family, friends and the Mate, more intentionally than ever in my life
Using historians, legal minds, politicians and activists to keep myself inspired and motivated
Using my own resources of time, money and WORDS to amplify that inspiration and motivation
I won’t blog about the first marker. But the other two? Watch this space.
Rev. Dr. William Barber [photo courtesy Wikimedia]
If we were back in my childhood of the 1960s-70s, all watching the same 3 or 4 channels, everyone would know this preacher. Everyone would have seen him preaching, heard him cajoling or roaring from the pulpit. Though his accent is eastern Carolina, not Atlanta, we would have known him the way we knew that other Rev. Dr., the one whose birthday is now a federal holiday.
But we’re all in our separate media silos now; separate channels, separate apps. Rev. Barber is back on the east coast (managing to pastor a congregation at Yale even while doing all this political work), and here on the west, I RARELY meet anyone who’s heard of him.
I’m trying to change that.
One of my very earliest memories is of the civil rights movement in my hometown of Durham, NC: holding hands and swaying in a demonstration, singing “We Shall Overcome.” I learned later that Duke students and faculty–including my dad–came out in support of Duke’s all-Black custodians, probably 1965.
Out here in the Pacific Northwest, all that history feels remote. Or it did until Trump, the Supreme Court and Project 2025 started attacking voting rights again. Now here we are, right back in the mid-60s, fighting to maintain what we thought we’d won.
The only difference? “We” is more than Black Americans now. “We” is we.
If you find yourself thinking, “We sure could use Dr. King now,” then
a) you’re not alone, and
b) meet Rev. Barber.
State troopers watch as marchers cross the Edmund Pettus Bridge over the Alabama River in Selma, Alabama as part of a civil rights march on March 9. Two days before troopers used excessive force driving marchers back across the bridge, killing one protester. [Courtesy Legal Defense Fund]
This February, Rev. Barber’s group, Repairers of the Breach, will be leading a march modeled on the famous Selma to Montgomery March of 1965. They’ll start in Wilson, NC on Feb. 11 and walk almost 50 miles (15 miles/day), finishing in Raleigh on Valentines Day. How I wish I could be there! I can’t…but I plan to support the march financially. And I plan to tell everyone I can about it.
Starting here. Because, who knows? Maybe you can be there. Maybe you can be part of that history.
Can you? And if not…can you send this post to someone who might be able to join, or support the marchers?
And if you do that, will you tell me about it?
PS: For more information, or to contact Rev. Barber & the Repairers of the Breach directly, click here.
“I’ve tuned out,” your adult son, your cousin, your sister-in-law tells you. “Politics is too f**cked up for me bother. And there’s nothing I can do anyway.”
I hope the first thing you do is to support your loved one for prioritizing self-care. But then I have a question for you to ask them.
What does the word “harvest” mean to you?
Wild blueberries? (Yes, this photo’s OLD. My knees don’t let me sit that way these days.)
That question popped into my mind last night while reading Joyce Vance’s Civil Discourse on Substack. She was asking legal expert Marc Elias (a lawyer who’s argued before the Supreme Court five times and counting) about what voters should be concerned about in 2026. Marc’s answer jolted me:
“According to Democracy Docket’s case tracker, there are about 170 active voting and election cases nationwide. Unfortunately, the majority of those cases (roughly 55%) are anti-voting cases that seek to make it harder to vote…”
Wait–who are these Bad Guys trying to keep Americans from voting? Will the feds crack down on them?
Nope. The Feds ARE the Bad Guys now. Says Marc:
“…One of the most important new developments this year is the Trump DOJ’s emergence as one of the most prolific sources of anti-voting litigation. In less than a year, the Department of Justice has filed 25 anti-voting lawsuits. While pro-democracy attorneys often found ourselves allied with the DOJ in the past, we are now forced to oppose them to prevent the federal government from trampling on voting rights.”
Joyce and Marc talking [Courtesy Civil Discourse]
“Okay, Gretchen,” you say, “What does this have to do with harvesting?”
Glad you asked. Because here’s the part that made me realize, even someone’s apolitical son, cousin or sister-in-law might want to know this.
When Joyce asked Marc how our federal government is going about the nitty-gritty of voter suppression, here’s what he told her:
“Trump’s Department of Justice is seeking a comprehensive database of sensitive personal information on virtually every person who might vote in 2026 and 2028. This includes names, addresses, Social Security numbers and dates of birth. In some states, it includes a voter’s race. In most places, it includes party registration, which elections a person has voted in, the method of voting they used, and whether they have moved.“
In other words: they’re harvesting our data. ALL of it. Not this kind of harvest…
…but this:
[image courtesy Wikimedia Commons]
Marc Elias goes on:
“Never before has the federal government sought all this information from nearly every state. Never before has the DOJ sued more than 20 states (most of which lean Democratic) to obtain it...We are seeing the weaponization of federal power against American voters, and I think this voter data collection effort by Trump’s DOJ could become the major story of the 2026 election cycle.”
So, ask your disaffected son, your cousin, your sister-in-law: “Is that what ‘harvest’ means to you? Are you comfortable with your own government harvesting your voting data in order to keep themselves in power?”
Harvest kale, not my proclivities.
If their answer is No…maybe suggest they look into Civil Discourse, or any other site that relies on lawyers, teachers and historians.
If YOU want to know more, join Substack and tune in to Joyce’s upcoming conversation with Marc, January 15th @ noon EST, where they will dive further into the questions of what’s going on with the data harvest, and what we can do about it.
They may not appreciate the question. But politics is choosing them, regardless of whether they choose politics. And as Leonard Cohen wrote, “There is a crack, a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.“
And as Joyce Vance says, “We’re in this together.” Let’s try to keep the conversation going.
Fifteen years ago, I interviewed my LA-based cousin, Susi Kaminski Klein, about her experiences as a child survivor of the Holocaust. Over the course of four days, hanging out here on Lopez Island and visiting beautiful Victoria, BC, I recorded Susi narrating her story.
Susi & I taking a break from history in Butchart Gardens, 2010
Nine years ago, I blogged about Susi’s story as depicted in Jewish Journal of 2016. You can read that here.
Five years ago, with some urging, and a TON of formatting, research and illustration help from my cousin Helen (Susi’s daughter), we turned those notes into a book.
Helen should’ve gotten co-author billing!
But the lede I’m burying here is this: COUSIN HELEN WAS WAYYYY AHEAD OF ME! In 2011, four years earlier, she had already published the story of her father, Fred Klein. Here it is:
Something you have to understand: back then, self-publishing was HARD WORK. I’ll get to that part in a moment.
What I wanted to know was how Helen’s experience interviewing her father compared to mine, interviewing her mother, and…well, I’ll let Helen tell it. Cuz?
“This will be a short and possibly unexpected answer. I never interviewed my father to capture his story. My father started writing his book, believe it or not in 1997! He went through a number of iterations. During the process he found several people who were willing to edit his work and give him ideas on organization, grammar, etc. I was not involved in that process at all.”
Fred and Helen in 2015
Well, that tracks. Susi had separated and Fred by the time we met, so I never got to meet Fred. From what I’ve learned, I think he must have been an impressive man. Maybe daunting to interview? Not really, Helen said, but…
“I think I would have found it extremely challenging to interview my father. Not because he would not be willing but it is such a vast subject, I would really have had to figure out where to begin, how to organize and structure the questions etc. so honestly I am grateful my father wrote his story on his own and got some guidance from others on organization and structure.”
Keep in mind, my cousin’s working full-time during this entire period. When I interviewed Susi, I had just left my teaching job, so I had the time I needed to organize her story after capturing it on tape.
Helen and Fred in 2006
Also…as Fred Klein’s book cover intimates: he survived Auschwitz. While Susi’s story was horrific and traumatic, including her father being sent to the concentration camp Theresienstadt…it did not involve Auschwitz.
Full disclosure, I’m only partway through No Name, No Number, which is written as a mix of personal account and history lesson. History, I think, is more and more necessary these days when precious little Holocaust history is taught. But personal stories are the most poignant.
Here’s an excerpt from Ch. 7, where, in 1941, still living “freely” in Prague, teenage Fred is forced to labor on a collective farm. I have bolded sentences that especially capture the personal reality of the horror.
“For me, the worst part about the camp was the strenuous physical effort required. I was in extremely bad shape, not accustomed to the job, never having learned to push myself. Sometimes the grueling twelve-hour workday seemed like hell to me. I thought I would never last through them. I had to shovel some three hundred times earth up to a little metal wagon. Sometimes I had to carry very long tree-trunks with a fellow forced laborer. Most of my fellow inmates were in better shape than me and enjoyed teasing me. They had me carry the thick end of the tree-trunks which was so heavy that I almost collapsed, whereas the other fellow had it easy. Had I been in better shape, the work would have been exhausting, but tolerable.”
Fred as a still very young man, after the war, now living in Argentina
Here’s another excerpt, from Ch. 11, where in 1944, 22 year-old Fred is unloaded at the dreaded camp. Notice the detail in the middle of the passage:
“I jumped out of the cattle car. Barracks, barracks, barbed wire, gleaming lights. SS men with police dogs, wielding whips. Pajama-clad figures – kapos – and other prisoners, something I had never seen before. This place was cold, frightening, there was nothing soft to humanize it. I stared briefly at the hellish scene, and then I took off my glasses. Shouting and shoving, the kapos and prisoners herded us into rows five men deep and made us stand still. The dogs of the SS were poised to attack us. Somehow the pajama-clad prisoners got us moving forward in a single file.”
“I took off my glasses.” To me that act says, I will not look at this. I will get through it.
Fred with baby Helen in Buenos Aires, 1958
So, Helen– your dad wrote out his own book. Why was it not published right away?
“What I can tell you is that my father tried very, very hard to get his book published. He wrote lots of letters to a variety of publishers, but none of them seemed interested. I don’t even know if he ever got answers.”
It’s painful to reflect on this answer. There are so many Holocaust stories. The simple truth– that the sheer quantity of such traumatic stories affects their “marketability”–hurts my stomach.
Helen finishes:
“He finally gave up looking for a publisher, and sadly resorted to literally going to Kinkos, making copies of his book, getting the books comb-bound, and then trying to distribute his book that way.”
Ouch. But then here comes my cousin, to ease her father’s pathway:
“Originally, I published my father’s book in 2007 using Blurb.com. That process was long and tedious, but I pushed through it as I really, really wanted to get it done while my father was alive. Little did I know back in 2007, when I completed the publishing on Blurb, that my father would live to 100, something I am ever so grateful for!”
Helen & Fred in 2018
Which brings us back to this moment. Blurb.com no longer exists. Fred Klein passed away in 2022 (at the age of 100, as Helen said). But thanks to his daughter, Fred’s story lives on…easily available on Kindle!Click here to download and read No Name, No Number, for free.
I would like to thank my cousin Helen for her perseverance (not to mention all the photos!)…and my cousin Susi for hers. They are both role models for me.
And, in this season of deepest darkness, please say an extra prayer for the Fred Kleins of the world. May their stories find resonance.
