San Antonio Express-News (Sunday)
How language harms
Re: “Print radical rhetoric,” Your Turn, Feb. 28:
Letter writer Bob Barton is critical of a report that members of the National Guard assigned to protect the new administration were removed from the operation because of extremism or white nationalism in their communications. His criticism is that “extremism” and “white nationalism” were not defined and no examples are given, thus disabling his ability to know how he — and us — measures up.
Superficially, derogatory language may not be harmful. However, it can and sometimes does encourage acts that precipitate physical or psychological damage to a person or people for the benefit of the perceived superiority of the perpetrator.
Perhaps the letter writer can tell us what he thinks the words — not the thoughts — of an extremist or white nationalist might be. We can extrapolate from there.
If a person is responsible for the safety of people in his care who are yet the subjects of his own pejorative words, he must be removed from that responsibility, regardless of his professional status. In these times, must we passively wait for an extremist to act before we do? Fortunately for Barton — and us — he is not responsible for that judgment. But someone must be.
If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck …
Charles W. Schraub
When journalists reported school staff were eligible for the COVID-19 vaccine, teachers were downright jubilant as they shared the good news via social media. Some were shocked: “I can’t believe it!” Most were grateful to finally have the opportunity to stand in line. Some were angry: “This is ALL Biden! Abbott still wouldn’t have teachers getting vaccines! Even with removal of masks!” Enter red pouting face angry emoji.
Teachers and school staff have the right to feel safe in the workplace, and that means they deserve some assurance via a lifeprotecting shot — or two — in the arm. Finally, albeit belatedly, making them eligible for the vaccine begins to show them the respect they deserve.
But it’s overdue, tardy, delinquent. Why did it take so long to prioritize teachers? Texas educators were hailed as heroes when COVID-19 extended Spring Break and they adapted to remote teaching.
Teachers have been risking their lives while putting on a brave smile — under their masks or in front of their computer screens — to teach, protect and love students. I know, because I was one of those teachers.
I have completed my first two weeks as a columnist and member of the San Antonio ExpressNews Editorial Board. I am grateful to return to journalism (I worked as a newspaper reporter before I became a teacher). After teaching for eight years in San Antonio-area schools, I feel a deep sense of responsibility to advocate for students, teachers, families and education policy. Now more than ever, educators need advocates.
In a farewell email to my school colleagues, I thanked them for all they do to support and love students. “It’s more important than ever. Take care of yourselves,” I wrote. I have no doubt they will love the students. It’s what educators do. But I worry they won’t take care of themselves. The state of education is complex and rife with challenges, but at the top of the list should be keeping educators healthy. School cannot happen without them.
Texas leaders could have made this change months ago, but they didn’t. The change only comes after the Biden administration urged all states to prioritize vaccinating teachers and school staff.
“It’s time to treat in-person learning like the essential service that it is,” Biden tweeted.
Teachers are essential. When teachers and school staff are healthy, students can go to school and parents can go to work, yet Texas still fell in the last half of states to make school staff eligible for vaccines. This is shameful.
Teacher anxiety has been high, and for good reason; 64,562 public school staff have tested positive for COVID-19 this school year, according to the Texas Department of State Health Services. No one knows how many have died of COVID-19, but the American Federation of Teachers says it knows of 547 deaths last year. In January, the Houston Chronicle culled through media reports, obituaries and other sources to identify nearly 40 school employees in Texas whose deaths have been linked to COVID-19.
From behind our masks, we adapted. We taught both in-person and online students. Teaching in the time of COVID-19 is unlike any other experience. The ever-changing requirements (ask a teacher about the once-simple act of submitting daily attendance) and the never-ending days that melt into nights and swallow up weekends and any semblance of personal time are overwhelming. And seeing teachers being
memorialized online is mindnumbing.
It was disheartening to see Texas push for more and more students and staff on campuses without ensuring staff and faculty were protected. Teachers read horrifying news stories about educators who lost their lives to COVID-19 and tried to stay healthy by wearing masks, washing their hands, wiping down surfaces and more. None of that stops any time soon, but vaccinating school staff is a step in the right direction.
Hopefully, educators can get
vaccinations soon, as Gov. Greg Abbott’s “100 percent” business reopening and rescinding of mask mandates means school staff, their families, and students and their families could be exposed to COVID-19 more often. On the front lines, teachers must be protected. Their lives and work must be valued.
Last week, billionaire SpaceX founder Elon Musk announced plans to set up a new city in South Texas.
The city — Musk thinks Starbase is a good name — would be the jumping-off point for humanity's next step toward interplanetary travel.
“From thence to Mars, and hence the stars,” he tweeted.
Musk, who announced he was moving to Texas in December, is serious about reaching for the stars from the Lone Star State.
Wednesday, SpaceX made history by launching a rocket at its facility near Brownsville, presumably the site of the future Starbase. The Starship SN10 was brought down for an upright landing, and while it did burst into flames — SpaceX called the explosion “a rapid unscheduled disassembly” — the mission was deemed a success.
But that's not all SpaceX is doing. The company also tweeted Wednesday confirmation that 60 of its Starlink satellites had been deployed, bringing its plan of creating a globe-encirling web of tens of thousands of internetprovider satellites a little closer to reality. And this came a few days after news spread about SpaceX job postings for a stateof-the-art manufacturing facility in Austin, although SpaceX is being quiet about those plans.
All this means jobs for Texas, especially if Starbase happens.
And why not? Clear Lake City took off near the Johnson Space Center in the '60s. A planned community near Galveston Bay, it was where engineers working for NASA and the petrochemical industry laid down roots. Gov. John Connally opened Clear Lake City in 1963, and five years later, 3,785 people lived there. In 1974, it had 16,000 residents. Today, the population stands at around 60,000.
Even for a billionaire, wanting to launch a city isn't the same as getting one. There are rules regarding incorporation, and Cameron County officials have made clear those will apply. But growth means jobs. It means construction, development and governance. Growth means restaurants, hotels, shops and schools. And communities need firefighters, police officers and first responders. And for South Texans who want to stay in South Texas, that means a lot.
The idea of Starbase isn't out-of-this-world, and a little help from SpaceX could bring generations of working people of the
Rio Grande Valley an overdue boost. From thence to Mars is pretty cool if you're from thence.
Uncontrolled growth isn't always beneficial. If driven by those who cut corners and place profit over process, it can destroy opportunity before it has a chance to happen, stifling a region for generations.
Of course, it is hard to get excited about a new city when we're still trying to figure out what happened to the water and power in San Antonio last month and how we're going to prevent such things from happening in the future. We might have our sights on the Red Planet, but the average Texan is more likely to see pictures from the Jezero Crater on the Martian surface than get a clear explanation of what their next energy bill is going to look like.
It takes the dreams of giants who have the means to spark planned development and nudge the bigger giants that drive regulation and infrastructure. And if Musk's dream of taking rockets full of people to the far reaches of the solar system means opportunities for people here on Earth, it might be in our collective interest to get fired up and make sure it happens the right way.
Starbase, Texas? We don't have a problem.