Author Archives: Galen Charlton

Scaling the annual Code4Lib conference

One of the beautiful things about Code4Lib qua banner is that it can be easily taken up by anyway without asking permission.

If I wanted to, I could have lunch with a colleague, talk about Evergreen, and call it a Code4Lib meetup, and nobody could gainsay me — particularly if I wrote up a summary of what we talked about.

Three folks in a coffeehouse spending an afternoon hacking together a connection between digital repository Foo and automatic image metadata extractor Bar, then tossing something up on the Code4Lib Wiki? Easy-peasy.

Ten people for dinner and plotting to take over the world replace MARC once and for all? Probably should make a reservation at the restaurant.

Afternoon workshop for 20 in your metro area? Well, most libraries have meeting rooms, integral classrooms, or computer labs— and directors willing to let them be used for the occasional professional development activity.

Day and a half conference for 60 from your state, province, or region? That’s probably a bit more than you can pull off single-handedly, and you may well simply not have the space for it if you work for a small public library. You at least need to think about how folks will get meals and find overnight accommodations.

The big one? The one that nowadays attracts over four hundred people from across the U.S. and Canada, with a good sprinkling of folks from outside North America — and expects that for a good chunk of the time, they’ll all be sitting in the same room? And that also expects that at least half of them will spend a day scattered across ten or twenty rooms for pre-conference workshops? That folks unable to be there in person expect to live-stream? That tries in more and more ways tries to lower barriers to attending it?

Different kettle of fish entirely.

The 2017 conference incurred a tick under $240,000 in expenses. The 2016 conference: a bit over $207,000. This year? At the moment, projected expenses are in the neighborhood of $260,000.

What is this going towards? Convention center or hotel conference space rental and catering (which typically need to be negotiated together, as guaranteeing enough catering revenue and/or hotel nights often translates into “free” room rental). A/V services, including projectors, sound systems, and microphones. Catering and space rental for the reception. For the past few years, the services of a professional event management firm — even with 50+ people volunteering for Code4Lib conference committees, we need the professionals as well. Diversity scholarships, including travel expenses, forgone registration fees, and hotel nights. T-shirts. Gratuities. Live transcription services.

How is this all getting paid for? Last year, 49% of the income came from conference and pre-conference registrations, 31% from sponsorships and exhibitor tables, 5% from donations and sponsorships for scholarships, and 3% from hotel rebates and room credits.

The other 12%? That came from the organizers of the 2016 conference in Philadelphia, who passed along a bit under $33,000 to the 2017 LPC. The 2017 conference in turn was able to pass along a bit over $25,000 to the organizers of the forthcoming 2018 conference.

In other words, the 2017 conference effectively operated at a loss of a bit under $8,000, although fortunately there was enough of a cushion that from UCLA’s perspective, the whole thing was a wash — if you ignore some things. Things like the time that UCLA staff who were members of the 2017 local planning committee spent on the whole effort — and time spent by administrative staff in UCLA’s business office.

What are their names? I have no clue.

But something I can say much more confidently: every member of the 2017 LPC and budget committees lost sleep pondering what might happen if things went wrong. If we didn’t get enough sponsorships. If members of the community would balk at the registration fee — or simply be unable to afford it — and we couldn’t meet our hotel room night commitments.

I can also say, without direct knowledge this time, but equally confidently, that members of the 2016 organizers lost sleep. And 2015. And so on down the line.

While to my knowledge no Code4Lib member has ever been personally liable for the hotel contracts, I leave it to folks to consider the reputational consequence of telling their employer, were a conference to fail, that that institution is on the hook for potentially tens of thousands of dollars.

Of course, somebody could justly respond by citing an ancient joke. You know, the one that begins like this: “Doctor, it hurts when I do this!”.

And that’s a fair point. It is both a strength and weakness of Code4Lib that it imposes no requirement that anybody do anything in particular. We don’t have to have a big annual conference; a lot of good can be done under the Code4Lib banner via electronic communications and in-person meetups small enough that it’s of little consequence if nobody happens to show up.

But I also remember the days when the Code4Lib conference would open registration, then close it a couple hours later because capacity has been reached. Based on the attendance trends, we know that we can reasonably count on at least 400 people being willing to travel to attend the annual conference.  If a future LPC manages to make the cost of attending the conference signficantly lower, I could easily see 500 or 600 people showing up (although I would then wonder if we might hit some limits on how large a single-track conference can be and still remain relevant for all of the attendees),

I think there is value in trying to put on a conference that brings in as many practitioners (and yes, managers) in the GLAM technology space together in person as can come while also supporting online participation — but puts control of the program in the hands of the attendees via a process that both honors democracy and invites diversity of background and viewpoint.

Maybe you agree with that—and maybe you don’t. But even if you don’t agree, please do acknowledge the astonishing generosity of the people and institutions that have put their money and reputation on the line to host the annual conference over the years.

Regardless, if Code4Lib is to continue to hold a large annual conference while not being completely dependent on the good graces of a  small set of libraries that are in a position to assume $250,000+ liabilities, the status quo is not sustainable.

That brings me to the Fiscal Continuity Interest Group, which I have helped lead. If you care about the big annual conference, please read the report (and if you’re pressed for time, start with the summary of options), then vote. You have until 23:59 ET on Friday, November 3 to respond to the survey.

The survey offers the following options:

  • maintain the status quo, meaning that each potential conference host is ultimately responsible for deciding how the liability of holding the conference should be managed
  • set up a non-profit organization
  • pick among four institutions that have generously offered to consider acting as ongoing fiscal sponsors for the annual conference

I believe that moving away from the status quo will help ensure that the big annual Code4Lib conference can keep happening while broadening the number of institutions that would be able to physically host it. Setting up some kind of ongoing fiscal existence for Code4Lib may also solve some problems for the folks who have been running the Code4Lib Journal.

I also believe that continuing with the status quo necessarily means that the Code4Lib community must rethink the annual conference: whether to keep having it at all; to accept the fact that only a few institutions are nowadays capable of hosting it at the scale we’re accustomed to; and to accept that if an institution is nonetheless willing to host it, that we should scale back expectations that the community is entitled to direct the shape of the conference once a host has been selected.

In other words, it boils down to deciding how we wish to govern ourselves. This doesn’t mean that Code4Lib needs to embrace bureaucracy… but we must either accept some ongoing structure or scale back.

Choose wisely.

Amelia, 2000-2017

Mellie-cat on a blue blanket

Mellie on a blue blanket

Last year, I wrote about the blossoming of the Mellie-cat, and closed with this line: “Sixteen years is not long enough to get to know a cat.”

It turns out that neither is seventeen and a half years.

Mellie passed away today after a brief illness. She is the last of my first set of cats, daughter of Erasmus and LaZorra, sister of Sophia. In the last year of her life, she trained Freddie how to cat; while she perhaps did not have the most apt of pupils, I know that he will miss her too.

She was the bravest cat I have ever known. She was not inclined to pounce on the world and take it in full; she was reserved and cautious… and yet she always showed up to observe, no matter how unfamiliar the strangers or unusual the circumstances.

Amelia is a grand name for a cat, but perhaps too grand for daily use. She was Mellie most days, but like many cats had accumulated a number of names and sobriquets throughout her life. The Clown Princess. Senior Member of the Treat Committee. Inspector of the Feets. Her mother’s special daughter. The softest and fluffiest.

And so another cat joins the realm of story.

It never gets any easier to mark that transition.

Mashcat at ALA Annual 2017 + shared notes

I’m leaving for Chicago tomorrow to attend ALA Annual 2017 (and to eat some real pizza), and while going over the schedule I found some programs that may be of interest to Mashcat folk:

As a little experiment, I’ve started a Google Doc for shared notes about events and other goings-on at the conference. There will of course be a lot of coverage on social media about the conference, but the shared notes doc might be a way for Mashcatters to identify common themes.

What makes an anti-librarian?

Assuming the order gets made and shipped in time (update 2017-06-22: it did), I’ll be arriving in Chicago for ALA Annual carrying a few tens of badge ribbons like this one:

Am I hoping that the librarians made of anti-matter will wear these ribbons to identify themselves, thereby avoiding unpleasant explosions and gamma ray bursts? Not really. Besides, there’s an obvious problem with this strategy, were anti-matter librarians a real constituency at conferences.

No, in a roundabout way, I’m mocking this behavior by Jeffrey Beall:"This is fake news from an anti-librarian. Budget cuts affect library journal licensing much more than price hikes. #OA #FakeNewsJeffrey Beall added,"

Seriously, dude?

I suggest reading Rachel Walden’s tweets for more background, but suffice it to say that even if you were to discount Walden’s experience as a medical library director (which I do not), Beall’s response to her is extreme. (And for even more background, John Dupuis has an excellent compilation of links on recent discussions about Open Access and “predatory” journals.)

But I’d like to unpack Beall’s choice of the expression “anti-librarian”? What exactly makes for an anti-librarian?

We already have plenty of names for folks who oppose libraries and librarians. Book-burners. Censors. Austeritarians. The closed-minded. The tax-cutters-above-all-else. The drowners of governments in bathtubs. The fearful. We could have a whole taxonomy, in fact, were the catalogers to find a few spare moments.

“Anti-librarian” as an epithet doesn’t fit most of these folks. Instead, as applied to a librarian, it has some nasty connotations: a traitor. Somebody who wears the mantle of the profession but opposes its very existence. Alternatively: a faker. A purveyor of fake news. One who is unfit to participate in the professional discourse.

There may be some librarians who deserve to have that title — but it would take a lot more than being mistaken, or even woefully misguided to earn that.

So let me also protest Beall’s response to Walden explicitly:

It is not OK.

It is not cool.

It is not acceptable.

IMLS support for free and open source software

The Institute of Museum and Library Services is the U.S. government’s primary vehicle for direct federal support of libraries, museums, and archives across the entire country. It should come as no surprise that the Trump administration’s “budget blueprint” proposes to wipe it out, along with the NEA, NEH, Meals on Wheels, and dozens of other programs.

While there is reason for hope that Congress will ignore at least some of the cuts that Trump proposes, the IMLS in particular has been in the sights of House Speaker Paul Ryan before. We cannot afford to be complacent.

Loss of the IMLS and the funding it delivers would be a disaster for many reasons, but I’ll focus on just one: the IMLS has paid a significant role in funding in the creation and use of free and open source software for libraries, museums, and archives. Besides the direct benefit to the institutions who were awarded grants to build or use F/LOSS, such grants are a smart investment on the part of an IMLS: a dollar spent on producing software that anybody can freely use can rebound to the benefit of many more libraries.

For example, here is a list of some of the software projects whose creation or enhancement was funded by an IMLS grant:

This is only a partial list; it does not include LSTA funding that libraries may have used to either implement or enhance F/LOSS systems or money that libraries contributed to F/LOSS development as part of a broader grant project.

IMLS has also funded some open source projects that ultimately… went nowhere. But that’s OK; IMLS funding is one way that libraries can afford to experiment.

Do you or your institution use any of this software? Would you miss it if it were gone — or never existed — or was only available in some proprietary form? If so… write your congressional legislators today.

On triviality

Just now I read a blog post by a programmer whose premise was that it would be “almost trivial” to do something — and proceeded to roll my eyes.

However, it then occurred to me to interrogate my reaction a little. Why u so cranky, Galen?

On the one hand, the technical task in question, while certainly not trivial in the sense that it would take an inexperienced programmer just a couple minutes to come up with a solution, is in fact straightforward enough. Writing new software to do the task would require no complex math — or even any math beyond arithmetic. It could reasonably be done in a variety of commonly known languages, and there are several open source projects in the problem space that could be used to either build on or crib from. There are quite a few potential users of the new software, many of who could contribute code and testing, and the use cases are generally well understood.

On the other hand (and one of the reasons why I rolled my eyes), the relative ease of writing the software masks, if not the complexity of implementing it, the effort that would be required to do so. The problem domain would not be well served by a thrown-over-the-wall solution; it would take continual work to ensure that configurations would continue to work and that (more importantly) the software would be as invisible as possible to end users. Sure, the problem domain is in crying need of a competitor to the current bad-but-good-enough tool, but new software is only the beginning.

Why? Some things that are not trivial, even if the coding is:

  • Documentation, particularly on how to switch from BadButGoodEnough.
  • Community-building, with all the emotional labor entailed therein.

On the gripping hand: I nonetheless can’t completely dismiss appeals to triviality. Yes, calling something trivial can overlook the non-coding working required to make good software actually succeed. It can sometimes hide a lack of understanding of the problem domain; it can also set the coder against the user when the user points out complications that would interfere with ease of coding. The phrase “trivial problem” can also be a great way to ratchet up folks’ imposter syndrome.

But, perhaps, it can also encourage somebody to take up the work: if a problem is trivial, maybe I can tackle it. Maybe you can too. Maybe coming up with an alternative to BadButGoodEnoughProgram is within reach.

How can we better talk about such problems — to encourage folks to both acknowledge that often the code is only the beginning, while not loading folks down with so many caveats and considerations that only the more privileged among us feel empowered to make the attempt to tackle the problem?

TIMTOWTDI

The Internet Archive had this to say earlier today:

This was in response to the MacArthur Foundation announcing that the IA is a semifinalist for a USD $100 million grant; they propose to digitize 4 million books and make them freely available.

Well and good, if they can pull it off — though I would love to see the detailed proposal — and the assurance that this whole endeavor is not tied to the fortunes of a single entity, no matter how large.

But for now, I want to focus on the rather big bus that the IA is throwing “physical libraries” under. On the one hand, their statement is true: access to libraries is neither completely universal nor completely equitable. Academic libraries are, for obvious reasons, focused on the needs of their host schools; the independent researcher or simply the citizen who wishes to be better informed will always be a second-class user. Public libraries are not evenly distributed nor evenly funded. Both public and academic libraries struggle with increasing demands on their budgets, particularly with respect to digital collections. Despite the best efforts of librarians, underserved populations abound.

Increasing access to digital books will help — no question about it.

But it won’t fundamentally solve the problem of universal and equitable service. What use is the Open Library to somebody who has no computer — or no decent smart phone – or an inadequate data plan—or uncertain knowledge of how to use the technology? (Of course, a lot of physical libraries offer technology training.)

I will answer the IA’s overreach into technical messianism with another bit of technical lore: TIMTOWTDI.

There Is More Than One Way To Do It.

I program in Perl, and I happen to like TIMTOWTDI—but as a principle guiding the design of programming languages, it’s a matter of taste and debate: sometimes there can be too many options.

However, I think TIMTOWTDI can be applied as a rule of thumb in increasing social justice:

There Is More Than One Way To Do It… and we need to try all of them.

Local communities have local needs. Place matters. Physical libraries matter—both in themselves and as a way of reinforcing technological efforts.

Technology is not universally available. It is not available equitably. The Internet can route around certain kinds of damage… but big, centralized projects are still vulnerable. Libraries can help mitigate some of those risks.

I hope the Internet Archive realizes that they are better off working with libraries — and not just acting as a bestower of technological solutions that may help, but will not by themselves solve the problem of universal, equitable access to information and entertainment.

Continuing the lesson

The other day, school librarian and author Jennifer Iacopelli tweeted about her experience helping a student whose English paper had been vandalized by some boys. After she had left the Google Doc open in the library computer lab when she went home, they had inserted some “inappropriate” stuff. When she and her mom went to work on it later that evening, mom saw the insertions, was appalled, and grounded the student. Iacopelli, using security camera footage from the library’s computer lab, was able to demonstrate that the boys were responsible, with the result that the grounding was lifted and the boys suspended.

This story has gotten retweeted 1,300 times as of this writing and earned Iacopelli a mention as a “badass librarian” in HuffPo.

Before I continue, I want to acknowledge that there isn’t much to complain about regarding the outcome: justice was served, and mayhap the boys in question will think thrice before attacking the reputation of another or vandalizing their work.

Nonetheless, I do not count this as an unqualified feel-good story.

I have questions.

Was there no session management software running on the lab computers that would have closed off access to the document when she left at the end of the class period? If not, the school should consider installing some. On the other hand, I don’t want to hang too much on this pin; it’s possible that some was running but that a timeout hadn’t been reached before the boys got to the computer.

How long is security camera footage from the library computer lab retained? Based on the story, it sounds like it is kept at least 24 hours. Who, besides Iacopelli, can access it? Are there procedures in place to control access to it?

More fundamentally: is there a limit to how far student use of computers in that lab is monitored? Again, I do not fault the outcome in this case—but neither am I comfortable with Iacopelli’s embrace of surveillance.

Let’s consider some of the lessons learned. The victim learned that adults in a position of authority can go to bat for her and seek and acquire justice; maybe she will be inspired to help others in a similar position in the future. She may have learned a bit about version control.

She also learned that surveillance can protect her.

And well, yes. It can.

But I hope that the teaching continues—and not the hard way. Because there are other lessons to learn.

Surveillance can harm her. It can cause injustice, against her and others. Security camera footage sometimes doesn’t catch the truth. Logs can be falsified. Innocent actions can be misconstrued.

Her thoughts are her own.

And truly badass librarians will protect that.

Truth-seeking institutions and strange bedfellows

I was struck just now by the confluence of two pieces that are going around this morning. One is Barbara Fister’s Institutional Values and the Value of Truth-Seeking Institutions:

Even if the press fails often, massively, disastrously, we need it. We need people employed full-time to seek the truth and report it on behalf of the public. We need to defend the press while also demanding that they do their best to live up to these ethical standards. We need to call out mistakes, but still stand up for the value of independent public-interest reporting.

Librarians . . . well, we’re not generally seen as powerful enough to be a threat. Maybe that’s our ace in the hole. It’s time for us to think deeply about our ethical commitments and act on them with integrity, courage, and solidarity. We need to stand up for institutions that, like ours, support seeking the truth for the public good, setting aside how often they have botched it in the past. We need to apply our values to a world where traditions developed over years for seeking truth – the means by which we arrive at scientific consensus, for example – are cast aside in favor of nitpicking, rumor-mongering, and self-segregation.

The other is Eric Garland’s Twitter thread on how the U.S. intelligence community gathers and analyzes information:

In particular,

Of course, if it is easy nowadays to be cynical about the commitment of the U.S. press to truth-seeking, such cynicism is an even easier pose to adopt towards the intelligence community. At the very least, spreading lies and misinformation is also in the spy’s job description.

But for the purpose of this post, let’s take the latter tweet at face value, as an expression of an institutional value held by the intelligence community (or at least by its analysts).

I’m left with a couple inchoate observations. First, a hallmark of social justice discourse at its best is a radical commitment to centering the voices of those who hitherto have been ignored. Human nature being what it is, at least a few folks who understood this during during their college days will end up working for the likes of the CIA. On the one hand, that sort of transition feels like a betrayal. On the other hand, I’m not Henry L. Stimson: not only is it inevitable that governments will read each other’s mail, my imagination is not strong enough to imagine a world where they should not. More “Social Justice Intelligence Analysts” might be a good thing to have — as a way of mitigating certain kind of intellectual weakness.

However, one of the predicaments we’re in is that the truth alone will not save us; it certainly won’t do so quickly, not for libraries, and not for the people we serve. I wonder if the analyst side of the intelligence community, for all their access to ways of influencing events that are not available to librarians, is nonetheless in the same boat.

ALA and recognizing situations for what they are

As I suspect is the case with many members, my relationship with the American Library Association runs hot and cold. On the one hand, like Soylent Green, ALA is people: I have been privileged to meet and work with many excellent folk through ALA, LITA, and ALCTS (though to complete the metaphor, sometimes I’ve seen ALA chew on people until they felt they had nothing left to give). There are folks among ALA members and staff whose example I hope to better emulate, including Andromeda Yelton, Deborah Caldwell-Stone, Keri Cascio, and Jenny Levine. I also wish that Courtney Young were ALA president now.

And yet.

For what follows, unfortunately I feel compelled to state my bona fides: yes, I have been and am active in ALA. I sign petitions; I grit my teeth each year and make my way through ballots that are ridiculously long; I have chaired interest groups — and started one; I’ve served on an ALA-level subcommittee; I helped organize a revenue-producing pre-conference. Of course, many people have rather more substantial records of service with ALA than I do, but I’ve paid my dues with more than just my annual membership check.

To put it another way, the spitballs I’m about to throw are coming from a decent seat in orchestra left, not the peanut gallery.

So, let’s consider the press releases.

This one from 15 November, ALA offers expertise, resources to incoming administration and Congress:

“The American Library Association is dedicated to helping all our nation’s elected leaders identify solutions to the challenges our country faces,” ALA President Julie Todaro said. “We are ready to work with President-elect Trump, his transition team, incoming administration and members of Congress to bring more economic opportunity to all Americans and advance other goals we have in common.”

Or this one from 17 November, Libraries bolster opportunity — new briefs show how libraries support policy priorities of new administration:

The American Library Association (ALA) released three briefs highlighting how libraries can advance specific policy priorities of the incoming Trump Administration in the areas of entrepreneurship, services to veterans and broadband adoption and use.

In other words, the premier professional organization for U.S. librarians is suggesting that not only must we work with an incoming administration that is blatantly racist, fascist, and no friend of knowledge, we support his priorities?

Hell no.

Let’s pause to imagine the sounds of a record scratch followed by quick backpedaling.

Although it appears that a website redesign has muddied the online archives, I note that ALA does not appear to have issued a press release expressing its willingness to work with Obama’s administration back in 2008. In fact, an opinion piece around that time (appropriately) expressed ALA’s expectations of the incoming Obama administration:

During this time of transition in our nation’s leadership, the greatest challenge we face is getting our economy back on its feet. As our country faces the challenges and uncertainty of this time, the public library is one constant that all Americans, regardless of age or economic status, can count on, and it is incumbent on our leaders make it a priority to ensure America’s libraries remain open and ready to serve the needs of students, job seekers, investors, business people and others in the community who want information and need a place to get it.

Note the politely-phrased implicit demand here: “Mr. President-Elect: we have shown our value; you must now work to bolster us.”

This is how we should act with our political leaders: with the courage of our convictions.

Of course, it was easy to do that with a president who was obviously not about to start tearing down public libraries.

Consider this from Julie Todaro’s Q&A about the whole mess (emphasis mine):

Why did we write the press releases in the first place?

ALA often reaches out to constituents, advocates, and decision-makers – both proactively and reactively – to request actions, express our support for actions taken, request a decision-maker consider libraries in general, and request that libraries be considered for specific activities or purposes. My presidential initiative focuses on library professionals and library supporters as experts and on their expertise, and on the importance of various library initiatives in communities and institutions of all types and sizes – and on the importance of communicating this value to decision-makers. In making a strong case for the value of libraries – in any political environment – it is important to state that case from the perspective of the decision-maker. So, if a legislator or administrator is focused on the importance of small businesses and their effect on the community, for example, the strategy is to prepare a statement illustrating how libraries support small businesses within their community – and how they could be even more effective with supportive legislation, funding or other appropriate action. Our stories – combined with data –can be framed to align our vision with other visions – always within the framework of our values.

Really? What on earth was that decision-maker’s perspective imagined to be?

That of a normal business man, fond of his tax cuts but not wholly bereft of a sense that some leavings from his financial empire ought to be sprinkled around for the public good, or at least the assuagement of a guilty conscience?

That of a conservative, Republican, library board member, who might never vote to eliminate overdue fines but at least recognizes that a town is not complete without its library?

That of a entrepreneur overfond of his technological toys, who at least might be shown that there are some things Google neither finds nor indexes?

Such people might be reachable.

A conman is not.

A conman who explicitly denies the value of acquiring information. A conman who unapologetically names a white nationalist as his chief counselor. A conman whose Cabinet picks are nearly uniformly those who would pillage the departments they would lead. A conman who, unlike George W. Bush, has no known personal connection to libraries.

A conman who cannot be bought off, even if ALA were to liquidate itself.

Cowering before Trump will not save us; will not save libraries. I do not suggest that ALA should have pulled the tiger’s tail; in the face of fascism, such moral authority as we possess only works quietly. We are in for the long haul; consequently, it would have been appropriate, if not necessarily courageous, for ALA to have said nothing to the incoming administration.

One of the things that appalls me about the press releases is the lack of foresight. There was no reason to expect that Trump would respect craven offerings, and it was entirely predictable that a significant portion of the membership would object to the attempt.

Contrary to Naomi Schaefer Riley’s piece in the New York Post, libraries are not suddenly political. However, in its recent actions, ALA deserves the contempt she expresses: an organization that yanks two press releases is, at least, inept — inept beyond the normal slow pace of library decision-making.

ALA desperately need to do better. The political climate is unfriendly enough even before we consider creeping fascism: we should not plan on the survival of IMLS and LSTA nor on the Copyright Office remaining under the oversight of the Librarian of Congress. An administration that is hinting at a purge of EPA scientists who investigate climate change will not hesitate to suppress their writings. An administration that seeks to expand a registry of Muslims may not stoop at demanding lists of library patrons who have checked out books in Dewey 297.

And frankly, I expect libraries to lose a lot of battles on Capitol Hill, although I do think there is at least some hope that smart action in Washington, but particularly at the state level, might ameliorate some of the losses.

But only if we recognize the situation for what it is. We face both the apotheosis of GOP efforts to diminish, dismantle, and privatize government services and a resurgence of unrestrained racism and white nationalism.

I just hope that ALA will remain with me in resisting.