A short story, and a pattern I wish more people could recognize:

A few years ago somebody sent a letter into a local paper asking, why do groups of Ethiopian men stand around outside every evening, I’m white and anxious (they didn’t actually say that part but c’mon) and I don’t think like it, what’s that about then. And to their credit, the paper did the legwork, talked to a few people from and replied “In that community, people don’t just rush straight home after work; they meet with friends, talk about how they’re doing, share the day’s news, talk local politics and how things are going back home… this how they stay connected.”

After going through all that the author had the wit to say, maybe the important question we should be asking isn’t, why do they do this. Maybe the real question that we should be asking ourselves is why the rest of us don’t do the same.

I think about that a lot. Especially when – after we’ve been through decades of relentless government penury and abdication of responsibility around social and societal infrastructure – politicians start talking about social isolation as a dog whistle for xenophobia.

In the UK they called it “austerity”, I think because of the British total cultural commitment to describing avoidable, self-inflicted misery in terms of ennobling character traits and nationalist pride – do you ever wonder if British cooking is the way it is because the favourite national flavour is just… boot? – but it’s the same neglect all over: when was the last time the city, the state or province or canton or who cares what, when was the last time the government where you live you broke ground on a community center?

Not a shopping mall or coffee shop, but an actual third-space, you are entitled to access here because you’re a person, you can just go and hang out if you want for no reason, you don’t need to pay anything, community centre?

You can’t remember; that’s the pattern.

Neglect and ignore that “the public good” means public social infrastructure and public social spaces, for decades, and then point at anyone who’s trying to do what they can with the approximately nothing they have to make cities and spaces and communities more real, more connected, more beautiful – Ethiopian corner conversations, Caribbean barbecues in parks, teenagers with spray-paint turning bare concrete into art, the list is endless – and blame them for the supposed decay.

We need to recognize this pattern and understand, in our bones, what it means: that when you see somebody blaming immigrants or teenagers or literally anyone else for social failures in a society, when they have their hands on the levers of the most powerful social institutions of that society, what we should all be seeing is somebody who either absolutely sucks at their job or doesn’t think solving those problems should be their job or just doesn’t want to. Malice, incompetence, both, doesn’t matter; bigotry and incompetence go hand in hand everywhere, people whose bigotries keep them from doing their jobs are just people who can’t do their jobs and people who can’t do their jobs shouldn’t get to keep them.

An open letter to Lands End

Dear Lands End,

I bought beautiful Lands End flannel shirts for my husband and myself last Christmas. They weren't the matchy-matchy ones - which you evidently don't make. His was of a substantial, durable-seeming material, nice buttons, sewn well, and had, oh, at least two front pockets. Mine was also well-made, nice fabric, great comfy styling... and ZERO pockets. Why? I also have two hands, carry all sort of things, and would have loved a place to stow some carryables. I even double-checked the side seam because sometimes they put girl pockets there. Nope. Nothing. (NB: Even your "Boyfriend Shirts" for women don't have pockets!)

Maybe you think that I can use my purse? That capacious tote that sometimes doubles as overnight-bag and survival kit? But I don't carry it with me when I am stacking wood, doing chores and just hanging around the house. Pockets. Pockets are great. Pockets are needed by anyone who needs a shirt. Perhaps you think it is infringing on my femininity or my modesty to place to big patches over my chest region? Really, I don't mind. I don't need your shirts to accentuate my positives, wherever they may be located. 

I need pockets. As many as you can give me.

Sincerely,

A Pocket Gal

If I could count the phones I've dropped and broken because measly little pockets won't hold them! If I could name the things I've misplaced because I "just set them down for a sec while I did something"! If I could get back the dollars that have fallen out of narrow, shallow pockets that were basically pockets-in-name-only! When it starts to hit the old pocket... well. 

What's the big deal?? Women have fought for the vote, for equal pay, for the ability to decide what to do with our own bodies - heck, we're still working on that one! Do women have to fight for the right to have pockets? 

I will send a shout out to my favorite purveyor of stylish clothing for women-of-a-certain-age-who-still-feel-somewhat-young-ish: J Jill - those folks put pockets in all sorts of things! Side pockets, patch pockets, hip pockets, deep back pockets, zip pockets. They've got 'em all. 

In the history of human sartorial advances, I believe that the pocket stands right at the top. Collars? For straight-up cowards! Zippers? Nothing a button can't do. Sleeves? Well, that one's basic. Pockets enabled our prehistoric forbears to carry home berries and nuts, stow some dried protein for laters, and put away that slingshot and rock until they were good and ready. I can only imagine the chaos that reigned before we could carry stuff hands-free. 

So, in the name of all that is holey (pocket pun, get it??), please, please grant me the serenity to use pockets for loose change, the courage to ask for pockets, and the wisdom to know the difference between carefree clothing and careless design. To quote my elder grandson's favorite joke: "Why did the golfer have a hole in his pocket? So that he'd always have a hole-in-one." To that I will add another joke: "Why did the seal carry fish in her mouth? Because she didn't have any pockets." I feel ya, seal, I feel ya.