When narcissism reigns

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By Caitlin Kelly

Anyone still shocked or horrified by the behavior, decisions, impulsiveness, cruelty and self-regard of Trump — has had little to no personal exposure to a narcissist.

His madness is pure textbook.

Here’s a disturbing opinion piece about how it’s now infecting Gen Z when it comes to dating, from The New York Times:

Today’s looksmaxxers — next-gen incels schooled in Trump-era nihilism, undersocialized because of Covid-19 lockdowns and radicalized by the manosphere — are obsessed with improving their physical appearance through any means necessary. They speak of aesthetics as destiny and attractiveness (ranked, codified and debated in extreme specificity) as the measure of human worth.

Braden Peters, the 20-year-old streamer known as Clavicular, has become the movement’s breakout star. He claims to have started injecting steroids at age 14 to improve his physique, has dabbled in crystal meth to suppress his appetite

This seems to be more a bizarre and extreme form of vanity, although narcissists can’t survive without constant adulation and attention. Anything that threatens their self-image is ignored or shouted down.

My father is one. He’s now 96, alone in a nursing home with dementia, a truly miserable ending for a man with incredible talent and creativity; he worked in film, silver, oils, lithos, etching and engraving. I own a few of his works and am glad to have them. But this is also someone with few visitors, including his four adult children, one of whom lives a 90-minute drive away.

Growing up around this is exhausting — which the entire world now sees, hourly, from Trump and his gang of incompetent sycophants. Anyone or anything that threatens their gilded, glossy image is anathema; both Trump and my father loathe smart tough women who argue with them or challenge them. Just watch 47 attack CNN reporter Kaitlan Collins.

The solution? “Grey rocking” — offering them zero emotional energy in return, no matter what they say or do. Pretend you’re a lump of gray stone.

Narcissists are very skilled at making you feel comfortable whenever it suits them, and wrecking that feeling the second it amuses them to do so — because they thrive on creating insecurity and chaos.

And yet they’re also shockingly and persistently tone-deaf and impervious to others’ emotional needs, and Trump is a perfect example of this. When six dead American soldiers landed at Dover airbase for what’s known as a “dignified transfer” he wore a blue suit (everyone else wore black), saluted (not allowed unless you have served) and, worst of all, wore a self-promoting white baseball cap.

No other President has ever ignored the most basic protocols. Classic narcissist — nothing normal applies to them!

Dogs can’t sing. Man can’t fly unaided. Impossible. Narcissists cannot empathize. It is a missing piece of their emotional foundation.

If you’ve survived one — a sibling, a parent. a boss, a coworker, condolences!

The limits of depravity: Bondi, Epstein et al

By Caitlin Kelly

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Sorry, guys — you know I try to avoid politics here as we’re drowning in it, certainly in the U.S.

If you (?) watched even a few moments of AG Pam Bondi’s hearings this week, you could not come away anything but horrified by her rudeness, callousness, and depraved indifference to the suffering of Epstein’s victims, some of whom stood en masse behind her —and whom she studiously ignored.

Every attempt to get a civil reply from her was rebuffed with her insults, shouting, smirks, a pointed finger, laughter and, at one point, literally ignoring the question altogether.

The shocking abuse of these victims is only compounded by her total disregard for their needs for justice.

While even royalty in Europe are now under scrutiny, and powerful leaders and executives are stepping down or even being arrested, there’s been very little culpability in the U.S. The three million Epstein files now available for review are overwhelming in size — and the DOJ is monitoring and recording which files are read by which elected officials.

Bondi is Trump’s sneering, grinning attack dog, complete with a “burn book” she flipped through at the hearing so she could spit back irrelevant insults at every elected official whose job it was to question her.

If you, as many have been, have also been a victim/survivor of sexual abuse or assault, or criminal predation, this is all extremely painful to watch and to hear. We know a tiny fraction of their stories but the way they have been dismissed, gaslit and ignored is very familiar.

I have mentioned this here before, but I was the victim of a convicted con man in 1998, someone I met through a personals ad in a local newspaper — remember those? Internet dating was still very new then.

He did not, thankfully, attack me sexually but his vicious and relentless manipulations — designed to get as much money from me as quickly as possible — left deep scars. He actually got very little, but knowing how I’d been lied to for months was damaging. He had managed to open my mail, activate a credit card and started using it, forging my signature — even at a meal in front of me.

But the real pain wasn’t his behavior.

It was the dismissive laughter of my town police and the sneering dismissal from the DA’s office since his multiple felonies against me was “only fraud.” He was also bilking other women in other states at the time.

I have felt guilty of not reading the Epstein files — nor the book written about it all by the late Virginia Giuffre. I admit, I am too scared to dig into more darkness, depravity and horror.

I’ve been moved by how shaken some women who have read them are — including Rep. Lauren Boebert, Rep.Rebecca Balint and Rep. Melanie Stansbury of New Mexico.

It’s clear this material is so dark and so horrific it is leaving mental scars on those who do read them. It’s called secondary or vicarious trauma, and it’s a common consequence for anyone who delves deeply into violence; I had a mild form of it from researching my first book, about American women and guns, as some of the stories I heard — and shared in it — were very grim indeed.

And yet — as anyone paying attention to the Epstein files knows — it doesn’t really matter how depraved the behaviors.

Powerful, connected men (and women) continue to go free.

What does it mean to be American now?

By Caitlin Kelly

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The beauty…

Dare I even write this?

Any of this?

How much of this?

Even if I were a citizen (and I am not), how safe is anyone now?

I won’t detail everything happening now in American politics. Anyone who follows news knows.

I will say there’s tremendous optimistic interest in the likely next mayor of New York, a man born in Uganda, Zohran Mamdani. If you don’t know him, he’s 33, married, and has only been an elected official since 2020. Opponents scoff at his naievete in thinking he can handle it — and yet he is 20 points ahead of New York’s former governor Andrew Cuomo and far far ahead of Eric Adams, the current mayor, and a Republican candidate, Curtis Sliwa. The governor of New York, Kathy Hochul, recently gave Mamdani her endorsement. This is one bright hope right now.

But the rest of it…

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However obvious, when you choose to move to the U.S. permanently, especially as an adult, leaving behind everyone and everything you know (even if only from nearby Canada), it’s still a huge adjustment. You also (OK, I did) may bring along the baggage of all the patriotic blablabla you’ve heard so many times about its vaunted values: life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, about a shining city on a hill, the inspiring legacies of the Civil Rights movement and MLK and RFK and JFK, of everyone who has fought so hard and so so long to make this country a “more perfect union.”

Oh and those famous “checks and balances”, which don’t refer to banking but to the traditionally honored separation of powers, which are meant to make sure no President, ever, can assume or exercise the behavior of a King. Not today.

You cannot come here and not hope for the best.

And now?

And now?

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To make a crude analogy, it now feels like you pull into Burger King, eager for a double whopper and fries — a blast of ultra-processed food and the hell with it! — to be handed a steaming bag of…not that. Certainly not a delicious and familiar and comforting meal you’ve counted on for decades.

Instead, something noxious and shocking and totally unwanted.

And don’t you dare complain!

Is an American someone who quickly bends the knee to autocracy and oligarchy?

Is it someone who protests in the street and carries a sign?

The unvaccinated child who infects their entire class while their parents just shrug?

Is it someone fired this week for not idolizing someone publicly?

Is it the Midwest farmer whose soybean crops are withering with no markets now?

Or the California produce growers whose workers are being scooped up by ICE?

The heavily pregnant woman who needs a good safe delivery of her baby — and her local small rural hospital has closed or lost its specialists thanks to recent cuts?

Is it the heavily tatoooed diner counterman, the icy WASPs of Park Avenue, the essential night shift working at EMS, the concert musician, the journalist, the schoolteacher or librarian who’s endlessly having to keep reducing the books they can teach or recommend?

Is it the average American who can’t even pay their bills — some now using payment plans like Klarna (a Swedish company, oh the irony!) to buy their groceries.

From Klarna’s website:

In the first quarter, Klarna announced it will become Walmart’s exclusive provider for Fair Financing via OnePay and that it is supporting DoorDash with easier ways to Pay in Full or split larger purchases with Klarna’s interest-free installments.

Right….people are so broke they’re using Klarna to pay for their food deliveries in instalments. So a company in a country whose residents enjoy a massive social safety net is making bank off of American desperation. Hey, three cheers for predatory capitalism!

I don’t feel I can say very much, to be honest.

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In view of unprecedented crackdowns on American media, self-censorship will soon be a widespread norm.

Like many Americans, I’ve lost confidence in the traditional protections of the sacred First Amendment (the one guaranteeing free speech) even as the Second (gun rights) remains the most valued of all. There are now even voices calling for the repeal of the 19th (women’s right to vote, 1920) even as the 25th hovers forever out of reach (removing a President.) Not a single day passes in the U.S. (1000% percent different from Canada) without discussion of the Constitution and the rights it accords to Americans. And yet…

It is an increasingly difficult time to be American if you’re not a right-wing, conservative, Christian nationalist and lining up to agree with them.

Some thoughts on this from The New York Times.

I feel like Quinn, Brody and Hooper — as they finally realize, seeing up close the horrifying enormity of the shark they’ve been chasing (it’s the film’s 50th anniversary) — as Brody mutters the best ad libbed line ever: “You’re gonna need a bigger boat.”

So are we, kids.

So are we.

Celebrating July 1 (Canada Day), July 4…

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By Caitlin Kelly

This is the most difficult July post ever — and I will have to bite my tongue because of the current political climate.

First, a nod to my native country.

I spent the first 30 years of my life in Canada — and will never not be grateful for the excellent public and affordable educations I had in my hometown of Toronto. To enter our best university (Oh, I know McGill tries!) you don’t have to have an SAT score or found an orphanage or write some plaintive essay and play accordion backwards…The arms race to get into an Ivy League school, even a top tier, are scary to me. To get into U of T, I needed a specific graduating average. That’s it. And it allowed me entry to its two best colleges, Trinity and Victoria (like Oxford and Cambridge the university is divided into smaller colleges.) My education was rigorous. I cried in my French professor’s office after being told I had arrived with very poor high school preparation. Zut! Yet I went on to win a journalism fellowship in Paris three years after graduation and a job at the Montreal Gazette with my fluency.

I still remember one of the exam questions from my political science class — Why is the German Democratic Republic neither German, Democratic or a Republic?

It was not, at all, a warm, nurturing environment! My profs felt distant and uninterested in anyone but grad students. But life is tough anyway, so it was good prep emotionally and intellectually. I then freelanced full-time for several years, never fearing medical bankruptcy thanks to Canada’s universal healthcare. I took safe public transit everywhere or rode my bike.

But, to be honest, I longed to flee. I found Toronto boring and housing, even in the mid 1980s, was already out of reach for someone who wanted to buy property and maybe put down roots. Wages were low and taxes high. People in power in my industry clung to their jobs, literally, for decades — so there wasn’t much upward mobility.

I tried Montreal for 18 months, and I love to go back and visit, but it wasn’t a good fit for me at all — long, brutal winter, insanely high taxes, a lot of crime. Nope.

I moved to small town New Hampshire to follow my then boyfriend, later husband, now ex, for his medical residency at Dartmouth. I was very lucky to get a green card as the then unmarried child of a U.S. citizen, my mother. Half of my family are American, and some highly accomplished — a Chicago developer who created the North American building, a city landmark, an ambassador, a Harvard archeologist, California farming cousins who flew their own Cessna. Who were these people? I wanted to better understand them and their country,

It was a huge thrill to move south — and I was terrified! Not of guns, but entering a nation 10 times larger than Canada.

How could I ever hope to make any mark?

But I have. I joke I’ve clawed my way to the bottom of the middle. I’ve had a great career, a lovely second husband, a town I really enjoy. It’s worked out for me, and I appreciate that.

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The staggering beauty of Big Sur, Calfornia

But now, in a week I really want to celebrate the best of both countries, I can’t.

I just can’t get teary-eyed over a place now thrilled, thrilled, to create an alligator-infested concentration camp. It sickens me. The “Big Beautiful Bill’ stripping healthcare from millions? Nauseating.

So I won’t wax poetic this year about that “shining city on a hill”, that “sweet land of liberty.” I mourn the loss of a clear shared vision of what the U.S., at its best, might be, or become. I despair at the utter impotence of the Democratic party.

Yet…

I wish Canadians a belated Happy Canada Day!

I wish Americans a return to sanity and compassion.

Ohhhhhhhh Canada

By Caitlin Kelly

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18th century view of Montreal

It’s been quite the week for Canada (and Mexico and Panama and Greenland.)

If you had told anyone north of the 49th parallel that Canada wanted to become the “51st state” of the U.S. you would be greeted with a loud guffaw and a snort of derision. For every Canadian who loves a warm Florida beach in February or a Broadway show in NYC or a hike through California or Colorado or Utah’s gorgeous landscapes, sure. We know the country is beautiful and has many appealing places to visit.

Some of have studied there or have friends and family who have, and many of us have chosen to live here.

But for the majority — the U.S. remains a place to visit.

To visit.

A country from which to gratefully return home to:

paid maternity leave, no mass shootings, no active shooter drills for children, an officially bilingual country unthreatened by diversity, with guaranteed safe and legal access to abortion.

It’s a place, as every Canadian knows, that’s deeply and profoundly different in many ways from the U.S., no matter how alike we may look, act, dress and speak.

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The Public Lending Rights program sends an annual payment every year to registered Canadian authors whose books are used by Canadian libraries. The U.S. does not offer anything similar.

Our two countries were founded very differently — even though both destroyed indigenous tribes and culture as they colonized and brutalized during expansion. The Canadian constitution promises “peace, order and good government.” No overt mention of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. There is no Second Amendment used to justify a country with more firearms in private hands than citizens. There is no “Canadian dream” sold to us to make sure we do everything possible to own a home (yes, of course a good thing!) and hence there was no 2008 disastrous bank meltdown there because Canadian bankers are much more strict and conservative with their loans.

For all its many flaws, (certainly in its treatment of First Nations people), Canada doesn’t carry the same legacy of slavery and the firm belief that Black residents and citizens are de facto lesser people. We rushed to help allies n WWII, especially D-Day, in foreign wars, took in thousands of stranded passengers on 9/11 when flights were grounded, sent planes and firefighters to Los Angeles to fight its many fires.

We have not hesitated to be good neighbors — spelled there with a “u.”

As a Canadian born in Vancouver, raised in Toronto and Montreal to the age of 30, I felt lucky to get a green card thanks to my American born mother, who later became a Canadian citizen as she so disliked the aggression and warmongering of the U.S. I was glad to come south and try new work opportunities simply unavailable in a much smaller country.

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Lacing up at Beaver Lake, Montreal. Most Canadian cities have many free skating rinks.

Today?

I’m horrified, disgusted and embarrassed by the thuggery of 47, whose name I won’t even use. I’m appalled at Musk and his unelected dominance over our economy, having unfettered access to our most private information.

Do you trust him? I sure don’t!

The two countries are so so so different in what we most value. The U.S. is dominated by wealth and whatever it takes to acquire it, whether by grift or greed or cheating or (yes) hard work and plenty of luck. Americans live to work, whether they want to or not, while I’d argue many Canadians work to live — to enjoy time with their friends and family, to travel (more have passports than Americans who make little money and/or have so little time off), to play sports, to help their communities. We don’t fetishize the military — on every U.S. national broadcast there’s some mention of it. Our news may be dull but it isn’t saccharine or sentimental — and it doesn’t routinely exclude the rest of the world.

We so value education we pay for it with taxes that make even the very best universities cost less than $10,000 a year for most undergraduate programs. We so value the common good that we pay through taxes for universal healthcare cradle to grave; friends have gotten every possible medical treatment and paid not one dime.

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Pie: Pumpkin, Apple, Blueberry, Sugar and Maple Syrup

So I have spent the week sometimes in tears, often in rage, utterly fed up with any suggestion a U.S. incursion, and its values, into our sovereign nation is welcome.

It’s not.

Badass women inspire me!

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By Caitlin Kelly

If you, as I do, spend too much time on social media, you’ll see a lot of really depressing videos and posts — tradwives with their eight children telling us all to stay home and rely completely on a man (hello, 1950s!), porn bots who jump on every post within seconds, women making the most terrible emotional choices with the men they date, marry and have kids with.

It’s easy to despair.

So the women I bump into on-line who inspire me are a breath of badly needed bravery and sass.

For me, bravery shows up in many ways: political, spiritual, intellectual, physical.

A few of them:

Elizabeth Tucker and Cole Brauer, sailing from Spain to Australia, sending plenty of videos of themselves as they dance, exercise, keep the rig safe and strong and deal with broken and malfunctioning machinery like the boat’s autopilot (!), recovering from a middle of the night BOOM up against something… a whale? a floating container? that sent them back to land on Cape Verde to make repairs. I’ve been sailing since I was 12, but never had the guts to go offshore, let alone into the most difficult seas on the planet, the Southern Ocean. The women deal with intense winds — 48 knots — reefing the mainsail as needed to reduce sail area. They thrive on it all, and I love their bright bright red nail polish and the small teddy bear on Cole’s bunk.

Their joy is so much fun! On New Year’s (how????) they hung a disco ball from the boom, sprayed one another with champagne — dancing on deck in (!) gorgeous dresses. And yet…there’s a video of Cole giving herself an IV after a week with a stomach bug. BADASS.

You’ll gain a totally new appreciation of the ocean and its challenges and surprises — like the red dust that settled into the folds of their sails — from the Sahara desert!

Sailing is not a sport for the nervous or ill-prepared and these two women are so inspiring to watch and to listen to. Maneuvering on slippery decks in strong winds or rain makes it an even more intensely physical sport, one very male dominated, so their voyage is well worth watching if you’re seeking some inspo! As Tucker said in one of their videos: “I’m both excited and nervous to experience the huge waves. I’m sure there’s days I’m going to be absolutely terrified…in the Southern Ocean we’re facing five weeks of endurance.”

But there are also six women competing in the tough Vendee Globe, including 50-year-old Pip Hare.

Washington Post opinion columnist Catherine Rampell, formerly of The New York Times (where she worked with my husband), is a fiery, feisty rarity among the pathetically craven mainstream press. She’s a regular on Abby Phillips’ CNN show and doesn’t hesitate to bite back fast and hard on the absolute right-wing bullshit spewed at that table.

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I love love love the wit and humor of Elle Cordova, 36, whose erudition is deep yet playful. Whether she’s singing or talking or just being her lovely self, I enjoy everything she posts.

The bishop of the National Cathedral, called out with utter hatred on social media for daring to challenge Trump, for being a woman, for being a preacher, for being a woman preacher — Mariann Edgar Budde.

The late Cecile Richards, who very recently died, and who for years ran Planned Parenthood, struck down far too young with the worst brain tumor one can get. Her mother, Anne Richards, was a legendary political leader as well.

Mel Robbins, 56, whose candor I find a refreshing change from a lot of woo-woo advice.

American legislator Jasmine Crockett, who is ferocious.

Gymnast Simone Biles, who changed gymnastics forever.

Greta Thunberg.

Malala Yousafzai.

I asked friends for their suggestions and got:

Beyonce

Jane Goodall

Ursula von der Leyen, President of the European Commission

Two legendary BBC reporters, Orla Guerin and Lyse Doucet

Then there are so many cool women of the past, like:

Oh, you know, Elizabeth I.

Marie Curie, winner of two Nobel prizes.

Joan of Arc, of course.

Rosa Parks and Fannie Lou Hamer.

Frances Perkins, the first U.S. secretary of labor

Any contemporary women come to mind for you?

To stay (and fight) or leave (relieved)

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By Caitlin Kelly

In eleven days — although millions of votes have already been cast — the voting for the 2024 U.S. Presidential election will be over. The fights, possibly physical and violent, and very likely legal ones at every level, will just be starting.

We’re leaving the country Nov. 1 for a full month, spent in France and Switzerland, where we will meet up with friends old and new and savor being a long, long way from the mayhem. Yes, this is a huge privilege to have the time and disposable income to do so, and we made this decision back in January before things got uglier and weirder, before Trump insisted Haitians were eating cats and dogs and Vance told us women without children are useless sociopaths.

The daily stress of the upcoming election, more specifically its gargantuan consequences — for the economy, the environment, immigration and — oh that — democracy itself is wearing many of us down. Way down.

As someone who is a resident alien. the horrible phrase used to describe legally arrived non-citizens (did you know that taking U.S. citizenship is called being naturalized?!) I can’t vote. I’m OK with that because I know this election, more than any previous perhaps, is only being run and financed by oligarchs quite determined to make sure Trump wins and tosses them even more tax cuts.

I won’t get into the weeds, but it is deeply concerning, as is Trump’s clear inability to give a coherent speech, stay on message or offer a shred of hope that this is a country not in decline — let’s ignore record low unemployment and stock market that is on fire.

So the question for some of us with the financial privilege and a foreign passport — to stay or to leave it all behind?

And if so, to where and for how long? My father is 95 in Ontario, but we are not close and I have no other close compelling ties to anywhere, even as we have very good friends all over the place.

Obviously, Canada is my closest and easiest option as a Canadian citizen. Except for a healthcare system in tatters, a premier of Ontario so stupid and corrupt he makes Trump look elegant, and housing costs so absurd that tiny tear-down bungalows in Toronto literally sell for $1 million.

I’ve looked at Nova Scotia, too rural for me. Quebec has very long winters and high taxes and constant battles over language. The rest? Too far. Too unknown or too expensive. I am not good at being rural, a lesson I learned over 18 months in small town New Hampshire, bored and lonely.

If I grapple with the paperwork, I can get Irish citizenship through my paternal grandfather who I never even met, as he dropped dead at 59. But Ireland? Not sure. I look at French real estate ads online daily and follow several FB groups closely; while housing can be stupidly cheap, the government demands proof of a healthy monthly income and the bureaucracy is legendary, even with my fluent French and love of the place. Climate change is a very real concern as is what I’ve read — that while the real estate can be affordable, there’s virtually no appreciation on that very significant investment, even with renovations.

But…how eager am I to move at this age? To start over…where? And do what?

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I landed by accident in a pretty town in the lower Hudson Valley, and really enjoy our life here, with quick and easy access to New York City and to gorgeous landscapes upstate.

So we will just have to wait and see.

What makes a leader? They inspire others

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By Caitlin Kelly

So often, we hear the word “leader” in a religious or political context, usually someone in authority with lots of power over lots of people, often an older white man.

I think of a leader very differently, someone like the late Martin Luther King, who we all know led a social justice movement or Cesar Chavez, working to better the life of farmworkers. Someone who inspires others to follow their lead and urges others to do so as well — for the greater good.

To me, the most compelling leaders see a formerly invisible or unfilled need and step up to help others with it.

One of my journalism idols is Nobel winner Maria Ressa, co-winner of the 2021 Peace Prize. I find her courage and commitment to journalism so inspiring.

I belong to several online writers’ groups, some of which are mutually helpful, generous and supportive — and some which have torn apart in rage and bitterness. Such is social media, sometimes not so social!

But one member of one group has created an online meeting twice a month where we gather to talk about money: how to make more, how to save more, how to ask for more, how to invest. We’re all freelancers, so we also have precarity in common when it comes to incomes that often arrive later than wanted and needed. I’ve been struck by the fact only women show up, even though it’s open to anyone in that larger group. Men have no money issues? Or maybe no one dares admit to having any.

I’m so grateful to her for thinking this up and making it a welcoming hour we all look forward to. By doing so, she has also created community, something so lacking for many of us now.

That’s leadership in my book!

Selfishly, I also took the lead last year in creating a new $1,000 annual award at my Toronto high school for creativity. That’s a big number for me to commit to, but it’s also a good chunk of change for many teenagers. What happened next moved me and surprised me; four others from my graduating class immediately stepped up and offered to share that cost, made easy thanks to a well-designed website by the Toronto District School Board, and the help of the school’s guidance counselor and teachers, who nominate the finalists.

I wrote about it for my old newspaper, called it microphilanthropy, and it prompted others to think of doing the same.

Score!

Here’s the piece I wrote.

Have you created a leadership role for yourself?

Tradwives and fundi babies: America 2024

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Let’s all be frilly — and dependent.

By Caitlin Kelly

Like every immigrant, I moved to the U.S., at 30, filled with hope and optimism for my new future in a country that spends a lot of energy telling the world — and its citizens — that it’s a “city on a hill”, a bastion of freedom with “liberty for all.”

As if.

In the decades since I chose the U.S. — and especially since the election of Donald Trump, unleashing a hatred and racism and ignorance that stuns many worldwide — I’ve become less and less enamored of the shiny rhetoric. The current mood towards immigrants (always a recurring theme here), towards women (back to the kitchen!) and, always, towards non-white Amerians, is becoming more hateful and louder every day.

State after state is moving to restrict access to abortion, trying to criminalize every effort a woman — or teenage girl — makes to control her own body. How dare she! How dare we!

Then there are “tradwives”, a wildly popular genre on social media — women, often white, thin, affluent — who pride themselves on having a lot of children and relying solely on their husbands for economic support.

From The Guardian:

Trad wives can be traced back to the Red Pill Women forum that was set up in 2013. According to research from Julia Ebner in 2020, 30,000 women identified as Red Pill Women or trad wives. As with most far-right trends, most of them appear to be in the US, but due to the networked nature of the modern far right, trends that start stateside don’t remain there. Interviews I conducted revealed that the British far right encourages its women to be trad, with women attending nationalist conferences such as the annual Patriotic Alternative conference, and making a name for themselves on the far-right infosphere.

The subculture shares aesthetics and values across the Atlantic. Long, floral dresses are the norm, idealising a mythic past of feminine modesty. Women should be covered up, as their bodies are just for their husbands. A woman’s role is to stay at home, serving her spouse domestically and sexually, while her partner goes to work to support her. Men should “discipline” women.

Unsurprisingly, they are anti-feminist, with the far right recruiting women to the trad lifestyle by claiming feminism has failed to make them happy. While not a trad wife herself, “alt-right” influencer Lauren Southern shot to fame by claiming feminism taught women “to work 9–5 and drink wine every night until their ovaries dry up”.

I came of age during second-wave feminism, Ms. magazine and Helen Reddy chanting “I am woman, hear me roar, in numbers to be ignore!” I grew up in Canada, where abortion has long been readily available legally. I was stunned when I moved to New York and began job hunting in Manhattan in media, what sexist bullshit women were putting up with! I had lunch with a married very senior editor at Newsweek — then a dream job for me — who leaned close and said “I can’t smell your perfume.”

Gross.

I was lucky enough to have parents who never once suggested marriage and motherhood were the only proper uses of my body and intelligence. I was out of the family home at 19, living alone in a tiny apartment, and managing all my own money. As readers here know, I’m ferociously independent in many ways.

I also learned the hard way the real price of deliberate ignorance when my first husband walked out the door for good after barely two years of marriage and quickly married a colleague. I didn’t even know when the mortgage was due — he walked on June 15th…now I know!

Luckily I had a pre-nuptial agreement and he had to pay alimony to get me back on my feet; here’s my recent New York Times story about that.

Which now brings us to fundi babies, a phrase I had gratefully never heard before GOP Senator Katie Britt’s bizarre State of the Union rebuttal.

She sits in a weirdly expensive all-beige kitchen with costly appliances, insisting she’s just a mom like every other decent American, and talks in a breathy little voice — fundi baby — that, apparently, is a powerful dog whistle to any girl or woman raised in an evangelical Christian household — taught to model submission and docility to men.

An explanation, from a Substack by Jess Piper:

I threw so many folks for a loop last year when I discussed the voice in a video. I used my “training” as a former Evangelical, a Southern Baptist, to describe the breathy cadence and the soft, child-like high pitch. Folks outside of Fundamentalist culture had never heard the term—they just knew the voice made them uncomfortable.

I know that voice well…in fact I can’t shake it myself. It was engrained in every woman I knew from church and every time I speak about it, folks will point out that I sound that way myself. Yes, friends. That’s the point.

Be sweet. Obey. Prove it by speaking in muted tones.

It’s hard for me to fathom women who willingly make this choice and keep making it. Call me judgmental and I’m fine with it. Relying solely on a man’s benevolence can leave women abused, homeless and broke. And it does.

No, thanks.

I’m weary of this country’s relentless push to keep women submissive to male power and influence.

This, just as France enshrines abortion in its Constitution.

The tilted playing field of American education

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The dining hall of Massey College, the campus for graduate students at University of Toronto, my alma mater

By Caitlin Kelly

Here’s a depressing reminder of how much money really counts if you want to attend an elite school in the United States.

From The New York Times:

Elite colleges have long been filled with the children of the richest families: At Ivy League schools, one in six students has parents in the top 1 percent.

A large new study, released Monday, shows that it has not been because these children had more impressive grades on average or took harder classes. They tended to have higher SAT scores and finely honed résumés, and applied at a higher rate — but they were overrepresented even after accounting for those things. For applicants with the same SAT or ACT score, children from families in the top 1 percent were 34 percent more likely to be admitted than the average applicant, and those from the top 0.1 percent were more than twice as likely to get in.

You may think this doesn’t matter — or matter much — and maybe it doesn’t for some students and some schools. But there are entire industries and cities/regions where an Ivy or elite school degree means the difference between your resume getting read, let alone getting a job interview. Journalism is certainly one of these! I arrived in New York City at the age of 30 in a recession with Canada’s top university — University of Toronto — on my resume.

It might as well have been blank. I was, and always have been, facing competition from people who attended East Coast prep schools (mine was also in Toronto), then Ivy colleges and often Ivy graduate school. If a hiring manager is only looking for those people…forget it!

But there is so much unfair about this American arms race to groom even mediocre students with a lot of family money — while smart, talented lower income kids never even get the chance to compete.

I live in a middle income town in a county north of New York City that also has some extremely affluent towns — Scarsdale, Bronxville, Rye, Bedford and Chappaqua (home to the Clintons) — and whew, the endless tutoring and coaching and making sure Muffy and Jeff keep a tight hold on the best possible chance to keep climbing the ladders of affluence.

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For a very brief time, I knew a local woman with tremendous wealth whose daughter said she wanted to become a journalist — an industry whose pay scales are low for all but a very few. The only question she kept asking me — how much money would her daughter earn?

Sorry, wrong question!

Certainly for that industry.

I find this endless focus on money so depressing, especially after being a Big Sister (volunteer mentor) to a 13 year old girl a while back. I should not have been so shocked to see the many obstacles she faced but I was: a noisy and chaotic household, a mother who disappeared for years only to reappear and spend her days playing video games, no quiet place to even do her homework.

The very basics other more affluent children take for granted: silence, support, discipline.

I tried to get her accepted to a local prep school but she never even showed up for the meeting. The whole thing collapsed into a mess of my liberal fantasies and her family’s clear lack of interest in, maybe even opposition to, her escaping the situation holding her back. I was deeply disheartened by it all, knowing she had intelligence and drive and a sense of humor but a lot of internal and external issues to resolve.

I moved from my native Canada to the U.S. in 1989 to live in small town New Hampshire, adjacent to the Ivy college Dartmouth, with no idea how divided the world is here between the affluent and the rest of us. Whew.

I also read two deeply formative books I recommend:

There Are No Children Here, a 1992 book about life in a Chicago housing project and Savage Inequalities, also published in 1992, which compared the educations available in two American schools — one in a wealthy suburb and one in a low-income Manhattan neighborhood.

The way education here is funded is so different than many other places determined to create a smart, well-educated population and a more level playing field.

I am also so fed up of “legacies” — students who gain admission because their family members went to the same school or donated a lot of money. Canada simply doesn’t have this.

I was fortunate to attend high school in Toronto and a university whose first year’s tuition was — yes, really — $660. It’s now around $10,000 a year for undergraduates…not $60,000 to $70,000 and beyond.

This country faces so many complex challenges: climate change, religious fundamentalism, attacks on women’s reproductive rights, racism, income inequality, gun violence…

I despair now at the lack of civic participation, of educated debate, of serious conversation among millions of Americans.

Without affordable, accessible quality education it’s not going to happen.