If you haven't heard of Gina Haspel, there might be a very good reason. I mean, she was a spy for most of her career. I'm sorry, a highly decorated agent in the clandestine services. By all accounts she has spent the majority of her professional life as a measured, capable, smart member of elite people who sacrifice some level of normalcy to gather an utilize intelligence about international goings-on. Then the current president, who goes through staff faster than I go through cheese, needed a new director of the CIA. The first female director, which is great,e specially because she is, by all accounts, great at her job. Experiences, level headed etc.
But. For a week during the Bush administration she over saw a Bangkok black site where a man was waterboarded three times. Later, against the recommendation of some, she penned a memo for her boss directing the tapes of some waterboarding to be destroyed.
There is a lot in those two sentences, a lot to unpack. Waterboarding is torture, and torture is wrong. Bad. Problematic. A lose-lose. Most experts agree that torture does not get useful information, and is against the Geneva Conventions. It is a violation of human dignity.
That being said, when Gina Haspel was in Bangkok, we had a president and an administration who considered waterboarding okay. They called it 'enhanced interrogation' to skirt the law, and they said it was necessary to prevent a mushroom cloud in Manhattan or something. Before Gina Haspel arrive at the Thai facility she briefly oversaw, another detainee was waterboarded more than 80 times. That poor man lost consciousness and actually died, and had to be resuscitated. The descriptions are horrifying. Haspel took over, briefly, over saw the same horrific act conducted 3 times, and then shut the site down and moved on with her career.
I am not here to assuage her guilt, or defend water boarding. But I can't help but feel like holding this woman, who over saw a tiny fraction of the horrific acts done in the name of U.S. national security and actually worked toward stopping it but shutting the Bangkok facility down, is misguided. We had a president who supported it 2002, and we have a president who claims we should do more than water board suspects now, and no one is questioning either of those men. Nor is anyone bothering to speak to the man who was in charge of Gina Haspel's conduct, who placed her in Thailand for those weeks in 2002. Nor is anyone questioning the individual who actually did the actual water boarding. Or who actually destroyed the tapes.
We are questioning, haranguing, the woman in the middle, between the men with all the power and the men who follow orders, and holding her responsible. To me, that seems like we are asking Gina Haspel to answer for our national sins, our election of these presidents and their appointed cabinets, because we still can't.
Talk about emotional labor.
Seriously. I understand that she is being elevated to a high position, that deserves a high degree of scrutiny. But can we all agree that she didn't decide to waterboard anyone? Why is no one asking any of these tough questions of our current or past president, both of whom rationalized and excused torture when it was convenient, and sacrificed the humanity of others to stay in power, to look strong.
It is so much easier to rest it all on the shoulders of Ms. Haspel, because even though she neither gave the orders nor took the action, she is the woman we can all turn to and ask if it is ever going to happen again.
I mean, do we all need a national mommy that bad? Maybe we should elect one, then.
Thursday, May 17, 2018
Wednesday, May 09, 2018
#MomLife
10:45 pm Baby is crying. Bring water, pacifier. Snuggle him back to sleep, then stumble back to bed
12:45 am repeat
1:55 am repeat
3:50 am Baby is crying. Approach with water and search for pacifier blindly only to find pacifier is sitting in pool of chunky vomit. Wipe hand on own pajamas, and reach for child, who is only damp with vomit. Move child to clean, dry area. Replace his pajamas, wipe vomit off of face, hair, and hands. Give child cup of water to occupy himself. Remove bed sheets, mop up vomit, throw offending items in a pile in the bathroom. Lay a clean rag over the stain because you are too lazy to put clean sheets on the bed when there is only one more hour of sleep to look forward to anyway. Bring child, sippy cup of water, favorite stuffed animal, and favorite blanket into bed with you and sleeping, snoring partner.
4:15 - 4:50 am Baby rolls around in the bed, pretending to be sleepy while poking and kicking.
4:51 am Baby sits up to drink water
4:52 am Baby begins to throw up water. Grab still-vomiting baby and try unsuccessfully to catch vomit in your hands, pajamas, anything but beloved stuffed animal or bed sheets. Carry gathered bed clothes, pajamas, and vomit-y baby back into baby's room, wipe up vomit, change pajamas. Sleepy partner puts clean sheets on mostly clean crib. Snuggle now clean baby back to sleep, tuck in, close door. Change out of own vomit-covered pajamas into new pajamas.
5:20 am Baby is asleep, you are awake but already behind schedule. Make coffee, prepare alternate baby breakfast of simple oatmeal in anticipation of further tummy trouble. Shower, and dress in robe.
6:15 am Baby is crying. Again. The room smells like poop. Baby is damp and smells like poop. I lay baby down, then think better of it and grab a baby blanket to lay baby on. Begin process of pulling wet, shit covered pajama pants off of resistant baby. Baby cries more as I wipe feet, thighs, and mop poop into a pile. I grab another towel upon which to lay the shit soaked pajama pants, nearly useless diaper and growing pile of wipes. Being stripping poop soaked pajama shirt off of baby, trying to keep poop out of face and hair. Realize poop traveled up back and into armpits, and begin mopping up poo.
Baby is clean, dry, and crying. Dress him in optimistically chosen day care outfit, substituting sweat pants for shorts after imagining next wave of vomit or diarrhea streaming down bear baby legs. Groggy partner takes baby to our bed to snuggle, possibly sleep. Change crib sheets, begin washing large chunks of vomit and poop out of collected laundry, and start a washing machine load with lots of detergent and bleach. Wash hands, thoroughly. Smell robe for poop and add to laundry pile.
6:45 am Baby is quiet. Partner is quiet. Pour coffee into cup, sit down at desk and begin answering work emails. Text daycare back ups for availability.
7:30 am Baby is up, but not crying! Timidly offer baby special breakfast of oatmeal and blueberries. Baby eats four bites and then insists on more exotic fare. Feed baby whatever he wants. Bemoan options with partner; is he too sick for daycare or not? Baby's temperature is take multiple ways for accuracy. Nothing is learned. Partner agrees to stay home with baby, I agree to come home early. Day care rejoices. Move laundry from washer to dryer.
8:30 am Finally dress for work. Baby is crying, partner puts him down for a nap. He cries, demonstrating a strong will, and then falls asleep. Apply make up, arrange hair in what I assume is the style of a person who slept more than I did.
8:55 am Reheat leftover fast food burrito and eat it for breakfast while standing in the kitchen, debating making another cup of coffee. Remind self to feel lucky for a schedule that allows for such a leisurely morning. Remind self to be grateful for blessed child, despite his inability to keep partially digested food in his body. Remind self to be grateful for leftover burrito, which is better than the granola bar under the front seat of the car.
9:08 am Leave for work, late. Arrive at work, find decent parking space magically available.
Spend the rest of the day wondering if I missed a spot of vomit or poop, still somewhere on my body. Or maybe in my hair?
12:45 am repeat
1:55 am repeat
3:50 am Baby is crying. Approach with water and search for pacifier blindly only to find pacifier is sitting in pool of chunky vomit. Wipe hand on own pajamas, and reach for child, who is only damp with vomit. Move child to clean, dry area. Replace his pajamas, wipe vomit off of face, hair, and hands. Give child cup of water to occupy himself. Remove bed sheets, mop up vomit, throw offending items in a pile in the bathroom. Lay a clean rag over the stain because you are too lazy to put clean sheets on the bed when there is only one more hour of sleep to look forward to anyway. Bring child, sippy cup of water, favorite stuffed animal, and favorite blanket into bed with you and sleeping, snoring partner.
4:15 - 4:50 am Baby rolls around in the bed, pretending to be sleepy while poking and kicking.
4:51 am Baby sits up to drink water
4:52 am Baby begins to throw up water. Grab still-vomiting baby and try unsuccessfully to catch vomit in your hands, pajamas, anything but beloved stuffed animal or bed sheets. Carry gathered bed clothes, pajamas, and vomit-y baby back into baby's room, wipe up vomit, change pajamas. Sleepy partner puts clean sheets on mostly clean crib. Snuggle now clean baby back to sleep, tuck in, close door. Change out of own vomit-covered pajamas into new pajamas.
5:20 am Baby is asleep, you are awake but already behind schedule. Make coffee, prepare alternate baby breakfast of simple oatmeal in anticipation of further tummy trouble. Shower, and dress in robe.
6:15 am Baby is crying. Again. The room smells like poop. Baby is damp and smells like poop. I lay baby down, then think better of it and grab a baby blanket to lay baby on. Begin process of pulling wet, shit covered pajama pants off of resistant baby. Baby cries more as I wipe feet, thighs, and mop poop into a pile. I grab another towel upon which to lay the shit soaked pajama pants, nearly useless diaper and growing pile of wipes. Being stripping poop soaked pajama shirt off of baby, trying to keep poop out of face and hair. Realize poop traveled up back and into armpits, and begin mopping up poo.
Baby is clean, dry, and crying. Dress him in optimistically chosen day care outfit, substituting sweat pants for shorts after imagining next wave of vomit or diarrhea streaming down bear baby legs. Groggy partner takes baby to our bed to snuggle, possibly sleep. Change crib sheets, begin washing large chunks of vomit and poop out of collected laundry, and start a washing machine load with lots of detergent and bleach. Wash hands, thoroughly. Smell robe for poop and add to laundry pile.
6:45 am Baby is quiet. Partner is quiet. Pour coffee into cup, sit down at desk and begin answering work emails. Text daycare back ups for availability.
7:30 am Baby is up, but not crying! Timidly offer baby special breakfast of oatmeal and blueberries. Baby eats four bites and then insists on more exotic fare. Feed baby whatever he wants. Bemoan options with partner; is he too sick for daycare or not? Baby's temperature is take multiple ways for accuracy. Nothing is learned. Partner agrees to stay home with baby, I agree to come home early. Day care rejoices. Move laundry from washer to dryer.
8:30 am Finally dress for work. Baby is crying, partner puts him down for a nap. He cries, demonstrating a strong will, and then falls asleep. Apply make up, arrange hair in what I assume is the style of a person who slept more than I did.
8:55 am Reheat leftover fast food burrito and eat it for breakfast while standing in the kitchen, debating making another cup of coffee. Remind self to feel lucky for a schedule that allows for such a leisurely morning. Remind self to be grateful for blessed child, despite his inability to keep partially digested food in his body. Remind self to be grateful for leftover burrito, which is better than the granola bar under the front seat of the car.
9:08 am Leave for work, late. Arrive at work, find decent parking space magically available.
Spend the rest of the day wondering if I missed a spot of vomit or poop, still somewhere on my body. Or maybe in my hair?
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