Author: DeMecia Wooten-Irizarry

  • Racism as a Mental Illness: A Comparative Evidence-Based Narrative

    Racism as a Mental Illness: A Comparative Evidence-Based Narrative

    Given the current behavior of the President, I wanted to provide an analysis of racism as a mental illness. This moment underscores how deeply entrenched racial prejudice can shape both individual conduct and collective discourse. Racism is often described as a social problem, but reframing it as a mental illness offers a provocative lens for understanding its persistence and destructive impact. Mental illness is typically characterized by maladaptive thought patterns, emotional dysregulation, and behaviors that impair functioning. Racism, in many ways, mirrors these characteristics. It involves distorted cognition in the form of prejudice, maladaptive behaviors expressed through discrimination, and harmful psychosocial outcomes such as trauma and inequity. By examining racism through the comparative framework of mental illness, we can better appreciate its pathological nature and the urgent need for systemic intervention.

    To begin, racism relies on irrational beliefs about racial superiority and inferiority. These beliefs are not grounded in evidence but rather in distorted cognition, much like the delusions or paranoia seen in certain mental illnesses. Genetic science has repeatedly demonstrated that race has no biological basis: human DNA is approximately 99.6–99.9% identical across individuals, and the small variations that do exist occur gradually across populations without discrete racial boundaries (Biology Insights, 2025). The Human Genome Project confirmed that there are no genetic markers that define race, dismantling centuries of pseudoscientific claims that sought to justify racial hierarchies (Cambridge Core, 2025). Medical leaders have acted on this evidence by removing race modifiers from clinical testing, noting that organs such as the kidney show no biological differences across racial categories (Johns Hopkins Medicine, 2025).

    At the same time, it is important to acknowledge that some racial differences are primarily environmental rather than genetic. Structural inequities such as poverty, segregation, and systemic discrimination create conditions that lead to transgenerational trauma. This trauma is not only psychological—manifesting as anxiety, depression, and stress responses—but also physiological, affecting cardiovascular health, immune function, and even epigenetic markers passed across generations. In this way, racism produces real, measurable differences in health outcomes, not because of DNA, but because of the chronic stress and environmental deprivation imposed on marginalized communities. These environmental impacts reinforce the argument that racism functions as a pathological condition: it distorts cognition, drives maladaptive behaviors, and leaves lasting scars on both mind and body.

    Yet despite this overwhelming DNA evidence and recognition of environmental trauma, racist ideologies persist and are actively weaponized in contemporary policy debates. Immigration policy provides a stark example. Current enforcement practices—mass detentions, family separations, intimidation near churches, and medical neglect in detention centers—are justified through racialized assumptions that certain populations are inherently suspect or dangerous. Presidential rhetoric declaring a “permanent pause” on arrivals and portraying migrants as threats exemplifies how distorted cognition translates into maladaptive governance. These policies echo the same pseudoscientific claims of biological difference long discredited by genetic research, underscoring racism’s delusional quality. In advocacy terms, immigration restrictions are not neutral—they are manifestations of a collective pathology that clings to disproven ideas, resists rational correction, and spreads trauma across generations (Williams & Williams-Morris, 2000).

    Policing practices provide another case study. Racial profiling, stop-and-frisk tactics, and disproportionate use of force against communities of color are rooted in the irrational belief that Black and Brown individuals are inherently criminal. This distorted cognition mirrors paranoia in mental illness, where individuals perceive threats that do not exist. The maladaptive behavior of over-policing produces widespread trauma, destabilizes communities, and perpetuates cycles of fear. Despite decades of evidence showing no biological or genetic predisposition to crime, these practices persist, demonstrating how racism functions as a delusional system embedded in law enforcement structures.

    Health care inequities further illustrate racism-as-pathology. For years, medical research and practice relied on race-based modifiers, such as in kidney function tests, despite clear evidence that race has no biological marker. These practices led to misdiagnoses, delayed treatment, and systemic neglect of patients of color. Even today, disparities in maternal mortality, access to care, and treatment outcomes reflect the persistence of distorted cognition within health systems. The irrational belief that race determines biology continues to shape medical decision-making, producing maladaptive outcomes that harm patients and communities.

    The psychological harm caused by racism across these domains strengthens the comparison to mental illness. Research demonstrates that racism induces stress responses, anxiety, depression, and trauma in both victims and perpetrators. These outcomes align closely with diagnostic criteria for mental health disorders, underscoring racism’s role as a pathological condition (American Psychological Association, 2024). Thus, racism is not only irrational in thought and destructive in behavior but also profoundly damaging in its psychological consequences.

    When we compare racism and mental illness across multiple dimensions, the parallels become even clearer. Mental illness involves distorted thoughts, maladaptive actions, and consequences that ripple outward to families and communities. Racism operates in the same way: irrational beliefs about race lead to discriminatory behaviors, which in turn traumatize marginalized groups and destabilize social systems. Both racism and mental illness contribute to public health crises, increasing morbidity and reducing quality of life. Both also demand systemic and individualized interventions—whether through therapy and medication in the case of mental illness, or through anti-racist education, policy reform, and trauma-informed care in the case of racism.

    Yet racism differs in one critical respect: it is socially reinforced. Unlike most mental illnesses, which are treated as individual conditions, racism is embedded in institutions and normalized through cultural narratives. This makes racism unique as a form of collective psychopathology. It is both an individual pathology and a structural illness, perpetuated across generations. Scholars have shown that racism functions as a chronic stressor, producing measurable physiological and psychological harm that extends beyond individuals to entire communities (Williams & Williams-Morris, 2000; APA, 2024). In this sense, racism is not only a mental illness but also a systemic contagion.

    Recognizing racism as a mental illness carries profound implications for policy and practice. Framing racism as a public health crisis highlights its role in perpetuating disparities and chronic stress. Trauma-informed interventions become essential for victims, while perpetrators may benefit from cognitive-behavioral approaches to dismantle distorted beliefs. At the same time, systemic reform is necessary. Just as mental illness requires supportive infrastructure, racism demands structural interventions—policy reform, equity initiatives, and cultural transformation.

    In conclusion, defining racism as a mental illness reframes it from a moral failing to a pathological condition requiring urgent intervention. Comparative evidence demonstrates striking parallels between racism and mental illness in cognition, behavior, and public health impact. This framing not only underscores the irrationality of racist ideologies but also strengthens the case for systemic, trauma-informed responses. By treating racism as both an individual and collective pathology, we can move toward more effective strategies for dismantling its destructive influence.


    References

  • Presidential immunity, executive impunity, and the erosion of constitutional balance

    Presidential immunity, executive impunity, and the erosion of constitutional balance

    President Trump’s recent declaration that he would “just kill” so-called “narco-terrorists” without seeking a congressional declaration of war, as reported by Al Jazeera (2025) and The Hill (2025), must be understood in the context of the Supreme Court’s ruling in Trump v. United States (2024). That decision granted presidents absolute immunity for core constitutional acts and presumptive immunity for other official actions. While Chief Justice Roberts, as explained by the Constitution Center (2024), framed this immunity as necessary to protect executive independence, dissenting justices warned, as analyzed in the Harvard Law Review (2025), that it effectively placed presidents above the law.

    This declaration cannot be dismissed as mere rhetoric. According to CBS News (2025), the administration has already authorized lethal strikes on suspected drug-smuggling vessels in the Caribbean and Pacific, resulting in dozens of deaths without congressional approval or judicial oversight. Legal experts cited by Jurist (2025) have warned that such actions may constitute war crimes, particularly when survivors of initial strikes were deliberately targeted. The War Powers Resolution of 1973 requires congressional approval for hostilities beyond 60 days absent a declaration of war, yet these strikes bypassed Congress entirely, undermining constitutional checks and balances.

    The Court’s ruling must therefore be seen as a catalyst for this erosion of accountability. By granting immunity, the judiciary has emboldened the executive to act without restraint. This immunity does not stop at the president himself; it extends to cabinet members, advisors, and military officials, who now act with impunity under the protective umbrella of executive authority. What is most alarming is that many of these officials have not only embraced impunity but have deliberately defied court orders. Their refusal to comply with judicial directives demonstrates a systemic lawlessness that undermines the judiciary’s role as a coequal branch of government. This defiance is woven into the administration’s exercise of power: when cabinet officials openly disregard court rulings, they magnify the chaos created by presidential immunity, normalize authoritarian practices, and entrench executive dominance over both Congress and the judiciary. In this way, the Court’s decision has not only shielded the president but has also emboldened his inner circle to reject constitutional limits outright, creating a culture of defiance that corrodes the rule of law from within.

    Even more troubling, the Supreme Court itself is becoming lawless by issuing decisions that undermine existing statutory protections and voting rights, further destabilizing the constitutional order. First, by weakening or disregarding civil service laws, the Court erodes long-standing frameworks designed to safeguard neutrality and stability in the federal workforce. When civil service protections are undermined, the door opens to partisan loyalty tests and political purges, consolidating unchecked power and diminishing professional accountability. Second, and equally consequential, the Court’s recent willingness to uphold Texas’s gerrymandering maps—maps that are plainly designed to dilute the voting power of people of color—signals judicial tolerance for intentional disenfranchisement at precisely the moment the Latino population is becoming the state’s majority. That is no coincidence; it is a predictable design. The Fifteenth Amendment prohibits the denial or abridgment of the right to vote “on account of race, color, or previous condition of servitude.” When district lines are drawn to fracture Latino and Black communities’ voting strength, the practical effect is an abridgment of those communities’ political power on account of race. The Court’s posture here does not merely interpret law; it functionally licenses racial vote dilution. Logically, if the Court blesses maps whose foreseeable and intended effect is to weaken the electoral influence of people of color, it undermines the Fifteenth Amendment’s protection and signals that partisan advantage can trump fundamental rights. In combination with eroded civil service safeguards, this judicial permissiveness accelerates a broader transformation: government becomes more partisan, less accountable, and structurally tilted against communities of color.

    At this juncture, it is critical to recall the constitutional role of the Supreme Court. The Court is charged to be an arbiter of existing law, not a creator of law. Article III of the U.S. Constitution states: “The judicial power of the United States, shall be vested in one Supreme Court, and in such inferior courts as the Congress may from time to time ordain and establish” (U.S. Const. art. III, §1). Furthermore, Article III, Section 2 makes clear that “The judicial power shall extend to all cases, in law and equity, arising under this Constitution, the laws of the United States, and treaties made” (U.S. Const. art. III, §2). The Constitution imbues the legislative branch, under Article I, with the authority to create laws. When the Court expands immunity beyond the text of the Constitution and simultaneously undermines statutory protections and voting rights guarantees, it steps into the legislative domain and unsettles the balance of powers. The logical outcome is a judiciary that enables executive overreach and partisan entrenchment, rather than a judiciary that enforces constitutional limits.

    This overreach raises a deeper question: was the chaos unleashed by the Court’s decisions truly accidental, or was it intentional? By shielding presidents and their administrations from accountability, by eroding civil service neutrality, and by permitting racial vote dilution through gerrymandering, the Court effectively provides the wealthiest and most powerful—the so-called one percent—with the unchecked authority they feel entitled to wield. As the Harvard Law Review (2025) observed, the immunity ruling risks normalizing authoritarian practices. When safeguards are stretched beyond their constitutional bounds and democratic mechanisms like fair districting are weakened, protections cease to function as intended. Instead, they become instruments for entrenching privilege, allowing those at the highest levels of government and society to operate above the law while marginalizing communities whose voting power is essential to representative democracy.

    Taken together, the convergence of unchecked executive violence, judicially sanctioned immunity, the deliberate lawlessness of cabinet officials who defy court orders, and the Court’s willingness to undermine civil service protections and uphold racially dilutive maps has wrought chaos. It destabilizes the separation of powers, undermines Congress’s constitutional role in declaring war, and signals to the world that the United States tolerates extrajudicial killings under the guise of executive authority. International observers, including Mexico and Colombia, have already condemned these strikes as violations of international law (Al Jazeera, 2025). Moreover, the precedent risks normalizing authoritarian practices. Future presidents may interpret the Court’s immunity ruling as license to employ lethal force without oversight, while partisan mapmaking continues to dilute the voices of people of color, eroding democratic governance and exposing U.S. officials to prosecution in international tribunals.

    The Court’s decisions have unintentionally—or perhaps intentionally—enabled a constitutional crisis. By granting expansive immunity, undermining civil service protections, blessing racially dilutive gerrymandering, and emboldening the executive and its cabinet to bypass Congress, defy court orders, and disregard international law, the judiciary has overstepped its constitutional role as arbiter rather than legislator. No one—including the president, his cabinet, the Court, or the elites they empower—should be above the law. The Court must restore constitutional balance and reaffirm accountability.

    Respectfully submitted,
    DeMecia Wooten-Irizarry, MPA, MSW, LSW

  • Racism isn’t partisan: It’s a hierarchy of whiteness

    Racism isn’t partisan: It’s a hierarchy of whiteness

    Racism is not a partisan “weapon” but a structural hierarchy rooted in white supremacy, designed to privilege whiteness through laws, institutions, and norms. Professional bodies define racism as a system of advantage sustained by policies and practices that disproportionately benefit white populations while disadvantaging Black, Indigenous, and other people of color (American Psychological Association, 2021). This framing predates modern party politics: the United States was built on enslavement, settler colonialism, and legalized segregation that organized society around racial hierarchy. The question, then, is whether contemporary policy choices dismantle or reinforce that hierarchy—not whether one party “uses” racism (American Psychological Association, 2021; Feagin, 2014).

    To understand how deeply embedded this hierarchy is, we must look at its legal foundations. White supremacy establishes whites as a ruling class by normalizing white culture as the default and embedding racial hierarchy in law, property, and opportunity. Long before the 1790 Naturalization Act, colonial legislatures had already codified racial distinctions into law. A. Leon Higginbotham’s In the Matter of Color (1978) documents how 17th‑ and 18th‑century statutes in colonies such as Virginia and Maryland defined slavery as a hereditary condition tied to African descent, restricted interracial marriage, and imposed penalties on free Black people that did not apply to whites. These colonial codes institutionalized racial hierarchy at the local level, laying the foundation for systemic white supremacy that federal law later nationalized. From these early statutes through Jim Crow, racial status determined who could own land, vote, and accumulate wealth, structuring generations of advantage and disadvantage (Higginbotham, 1978; Feagin, 2014). Civil rights gains of the mid‑20th century were corrective measures designed to constrain that hierarchy; weakening them reopens pathways to stratification that place people of color into servant roles while preserving white dominance (Feagin, 2014; American Psychological Association, 2021).

    This history also exposes why claims of “colorblind” fairness are misleading. Assertions that success depends only on “meeting the standard” ignore evidence that standards themselves are filtered through bias. A landmark field experiment found resumes with Black‑identifying names received fewer callbacks than identical resumes with white‑identifying names—demonstrating that merit signals are not assessed neutrally (Bertrand & Mullainathan, 2004). The study also showed that increased qualifications did less to improve outcomes for Black‑identified applicants, revealing a penalty attached to racialized identity rather than competence. In other words, colorblindness can legitimize biased gatekeeping, while DEI and civil rights enforcement make merit legible by clarifying criteria, expanding access, and checking discriminatory filters (Bertrand & Mullainathan, 2004; Bonilla‑Silva, 2014).

    The consequences of ignoring these systemic filters are visible in current policy debates. Efforts to abolish diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI), narrow disparate‑impact enforcement, or rescind equity directives weaken the mechanisms that counteract racial hierarchy. Analysts warn that such rollbacks move the nation back toward pre‑civil rights norms by eroding protections, oversight, and accountability—conditions under which racial hierarchy organizes labor and status, effectively positioning people of color as a servant class while maintaining whites as a ruling class (Berry, 2025; Center for American Progress, 2024). Empirical evidence also shows that affirmative action and compliance tools expanded opportunity for women—especially white women—demonstrating these policies do not privilege one race but broaden fair access across groups (Leonard, 1990; Kurtulus, 2013). Removing them narrows pathways and entrenches hierarchy.

    Recognizing this pattern clarifies what genuine fairness requires. It is not enough to claim neutrality; fairness demands clear standards and active safeguards that ensure those standards are applied without bias. That includes transparent criteria, validated selection tools, accountability for disparate outcomes, and proactive inclusion strategies that counter systemic filters rather than pretending they do not exist (American Psychological Association, 2021). This is not partisan—it is the minimum required to dismantle a hierarchy that otherwise reproduces advantage. Without such safeguards, “neutral” policies re‑create racialized stratification, and the rhetoric of colorblindness becomes a cover for returning to a servant/ruling class order (Bonilla‑Silva, 2014; Berry, 2025).

    Taken together, the evidence shows that racism is a manifestation of white supremacy—a structural hierarchy of whiteness—not a tactic of Democrats or Republicans. Recent rollbacks that weaken civil rights and DEI tools reinforce that hierarchy, risking a return to pre‑civil rights conditions that organize society into ruling and servant classes by race (American Psychological Association, 2021; Berry, 2025; Center for American Progress, 2024).


    References
    American Psychological Association. (2021). APA resolution on racism. https://www.apa.org/about/policy/resolution-racism
    Bertrand, M., & Mullainathan, S. (2004). Are Emily and Greg more employable than Lakisha and Jamal? A field experiment on labor market discrimination. American Economic Review, 94(4), 991–1013. https://doi.org/10.1257/0002828042002561
    Berry, M. (2025, January 15). Civil rights at risk: The rollback of DEI initiatives. The Leadership Conference on Civil and Human Rights.
    Bonilla‑Silva, E. (2014). Racism without racists: Color‑blind racism and the persistence of racial inequality in America (4th ed.). Rowman & Littlefield.
    Center for American Progress. (2024, December 10). The attack on diversity, equity, and inclusion programs. https://www.americanprogress.org
    Feagin, J. R. (2014). Racist America: Roots, current realities, and future reparations (3rd ed.). Routledge.
    Higginbotham, A. L. (1978). In the matter of color: Race and the American legal process, the colonial period. Oxford University Press.
    Kurtulus, F. A. (2013). Affirmative action and the utilization of minorities and women: A longitudinal analysis 1973–2003. Journal of Policy Analysis and Management, 32(3), 462–488. https://doi.org/10.1002/pam.21698
    Leonard, J. S. (1990). The impact of affirmative action on employment. Journal of Labor Economics, 8(2), S263–S276. https://doi.org/10.1086/298225

  • Systemic Devaluation: Women of Color in Social Work and the Department of Education’s Reclassification of Professional Degrees

    Systemic Devaluation: Women of Color in Social Work and the Department of Education’s Reclassification of Professional Degrees

    Women of color are the backbone of the social work profession. They comprise approximately 36 percent of the workforce, with Black social workers overall representing 19.9 percent of the profession. Given that 80.5 percent of social workers are women, this translates to about 16 percent of all social workers being Black women (Zippia, 2025). Latina women account for roughly 10 percent, Asian women for 2.6 percent, and Native women for 0.5 percent. These figures underscore the gendered and racialized composition of the field. Among new Master of Social Work (MSW) graduates, 22 percent identified as Black/African American and 14 percent as Hispanic/Latina (National Association of Social Workers [NASW], 2020), reinforcing the centrality of women of color to the profession’s future.

    Despite this strong representation, women of color in social work face entrenched inequities. Black women social workers earn 22 percent less than White peers with the same degree, and both Black and Latina MSWs report higher student debt burdens than their White counterparts (Institute for Women’s Policy Research [IWPR], 2024; NASW, 2020). Burnout and financial strain are widespread, with surveys showing that 82 percent of social workers report not earning a living wage, a burden disproportionately borne by women of color (IWPR, 2024). These inequities are compounded by occupational segregation, as women of color are overrepresented in care and service roles that are undervalued and underpaid compared to other professions requiring advanced degrees.

    The Department of Education’s recent decision to exclude social work degrees from the category of “professional degrees” intensifies these challenges. Under the One Big Beautiful Bill Act, loan limits for social work students were reduced from $50,000 annually/$200,000 lifetime to $20,500 annually/$100,000 lifetime (Snopes, 2025). This reclassification effectively denies social workers professional recognition, despite the advanced graduate training and licensure requirements inherent to the field. The excluded programs—social work, nursing, counseling, and public health—are all female-dominated professions, raising concerns about structural bias in how “professional” is defined (Newsweek, 2025).

    The intersection of these numbers and this policy decision reveals a troubling pattern. Women of color, who make up more than one-third of the social work profession, are disproportionately impacted by the Department of Education’s reclassification. Already facing wage inequities, higher debt burdens, and systemic undervaluation, they now confront reduced access to graduate education financing and diminished recognition of their professional status. This decision not only undermines the economic stability of women of color in social work but also destabilizes a workforce that disproportionately serves marginalized communities most affected by systemic inequities.

    This is not a neutral bureaucratic adjustment. It is a systemic devaluation of women of color’s labor in social work, exacerbating existing inequities and threatening the sustainability of a profession essential to public health and social equity. By stripping social work of its professional designation, the Department of Education sends a clear message: the expertise, advanced training, and licensure of women of color in social work are less valued than those in male-dominated professions.

    The consequences are profound. Reduced loan limits will deter future students—particularly women of color—from pursuing graduate education in social work, shrinking the pipeline of professionals at a time when demand for trauma-informed, community-based care is rising. Wage inequities will deepen as the profession loses its professional status, further marginalizing Black women and other women of color who already bear the brunt of systemic undervaluation. Communities most affected by poverty, racism, and transgenerational trauma will suffer as the workforce serving them becomes less sustainable.

    In sum, the Department of Education’s reclassification of social work degrees as non-professional is both a gendered and racialized policy decision. It undermines women of color’s economic stability, devalues their expertise, and destabilizes a profession essential to advancing equity and justice. Advocacy must center these realities: women of color are not only the majority of the social work profession but also the most impacted by policies that strip away recognition and resources. Protecting the professional status of social work is therefore not just about titles—it is about safeguarding equity, sustainability, and justice for the communities social workers serve.


    References (APA 7)

    Institute for Women’s Policy Research. (2024, December). Unequal burden: Challenges facing Black women social workers (IWPR #5D22). https://iwpr.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/Black-Women-Social-Workers-research-brief-2024.pdf

    National Association of Social Workers. (2020, December 11). New report provides insights into new social workers’ demographics, income, and job satisfaction. https://www.socialworkers.org/News/News-Releases/ID/2262/New-Report-Provides-Insights-into-New-Social-Workers-Demographics-Income-and-Job-Satisfaction

    Newsweek. (2025, November 21). Full list of degrees not classed as ‘professional’ by Trump admin. https://www.newsweek.com/full-list-degrees-professional-trump-administration-11085695

    Snopes. (2025, November 22). Inspecting claim Education Department stopped counting nursing, other programs as ‘professional degrees’. https://www.snopes.com/fact-check/trump-professional-degrees-nursing/

    Zippia. (2025). Social worker demographics and statistics in the US. https://www.zippia.com/social-worker-jobs/demographics/

  • Corporate Exploitation, Environmental Destruction, Neocolonialism, and the Destabilization of African Economies

    Corporate Exploitation, Environmental Destruction, Neocolonialism, and the Destabilization of African Economies

    Africa’s mineral wealth—cobalt, gold, platinum, silver, and uranium—powers the global economy, yet the extraction of these resources reveals a consistent pattern of exploitation. Corporate practices not only exploit labor and destroy the environment but also perpetuate neocolonial structures that destabilize African economies and deepen poverty. By examining these minerals together, we see how multinational corporations capture value externally while leaving African communities with harm and instability.

    Cobalt

    The Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) supplies about three‑quarters of the world’s cobalt, indispensable for lithium‑ion batteries in smartphones, laptops, and electric vehicles (Portside, 2023). Artisanal miners, including children, dig by hand in toxic dust and unstable pits, often without protective equipment. These conditions produce injuries, deaths, and long‑term health crises (Newsweek, 2023; Kara, 2023). Environmental contamination of rivers and farmland undermines agriculture and food security (World Bank, 2022). Corporate structures reinforce poverty by repatriating profits abroad, leaving the DRC with limited fiscal space to invest in housing, health, and infrastructure (Stiglitz, 2002). This cycle destabilizes the economy, locking communities into dependency on unsafe artisanal labor.

    Gold

    Gold mining in Ghana, South Africa, and Tanzania similarly destabilizes local economies. Artisanal miners exposed to mercury and cyanide face severe health risks, while industrial operations displace communities and degrade ecosystems (Hilson, 2002). Corporate tax avoidance and opaque concession agreements reduce government revenues, constraining investment in public goods. Instead of generating broad prosperity, gold wealth often enriches elites and foreign corporations, leaving surrounding communities impoverished (World Bank, 2022).

    Platinum

    South Africa holds over 70% of the world’s platinum reserves (Johnson Matthey, 2023). Yet platinum mining has been marked by violent suppression of worker protests, most notably the Marikana massacre in 2012, where striking miners demanding fair wages were killed by police (Alexander, 2013). This event illustrates how corporate collusion with political elites perpetuates inequality and instability. Communities near mines face unemployment, poor housing, and environmental degradation, while profits flow abroad. The result is a destabilized labor market and entrenched poverty in mining regions.

    Silver

    Silver mining in Morocco and South Africa involves toxic chemicals and unsafe labor conditions. Corporate practices prioritize export markets for electronics and jewelry while leaving behind contaminated land and water. Weak regulatory oversight allows companies to externalize environmental costs, perpetuating cycles of poverty and ecological harm (Stiglitz, 2002). Communities dependent on agriculture or fishing are destabilized when their land and water are poisoned, forcing reliance on precarious mining jobs.

    Uranium

    Uranium mining in Niger and Namibia highlights the geopolitical dimensions of neocolonialism. French corporations such as Orano (formerly Areva) dominate Niger’s uranium sector, supplying Europe’s nuclear power while Niger remains one of the poorest countries globally (Taylor, 2014). Communities face displacement and radiation exposure, while profits are exported. This dependency destabilizes Niger’s economy, leaving it vulnerable to commodity price fluctuations and external political pressures. Uranium mining thus perpetuates poverty by denying African states the ability to industrialize their own resources (Nkrumah, 1965).

    Conclusion

    Across cobalt, gold, platinum, silver, and uranium, the evidence shows that corporate exploitation destabilizes African economies and entrenches poverty. Unsafe labor conditions, environmental destruction, and opaque corporate structures reduce government revenues, displace communities, and undermine livelihoods. These practices replicate colonial patterns: Africa provides raw materials, while external powers capture value. The destabilization is not cultural but structural, rooted in neocolonial corporate practices that perpetuate dependency. A just future requires contract transparency, stronger regulation, and equitable trade frameworks that allow Africa to industrialize its resources and capture value domestically.

    References

    Alexander, P. (2013). Marikana: A view from the mountain and a case to answer. Jacana Media.

    Hilson, G. (2002). The environmental impact of small‑scale gold mining in Ghana: Identifying problems and possible solutions. The Geographical Journal, 168(1), 57–72.

    Johnson Matthey. (2023). Platinum 2023 interim review. Johnson Matthey PLC.

    Kara, S. (2023). Cobalt red: How the blood of the Congo powers our lives. St. Martin’s Press.

    Newsweek. (2023, January 25). Shocking truths behind smartphone and EV batteries: Children mining cobalt. https://www.newsweek.com/shocking-truths-behind-smartphone-ev-batteries-children-mining-cobalt-1775172

    Nkrumah, K. (1965). Neo‑colonialism: The last stage of imperialism. International Publishers.

    Portside. (2023, July 16). “Cobalt Red”: Smartphones & electric cars rely on toxic mineral mined in Congo by children. https://portside.org/2023-07-16/cobalt-red-smartphones-electric-cars-rely-toxic-mineral-mined-congo-children

    Stiglitz, J. E. (2002). Globalization and its discontents. W. W. Norton & Company.

    Taylor, I. (2014). Dependency, partnerships and the role of French uranium in Niger. Review of African Political Economy, 41(140), 466–481.

    World Bank. (2022). Africa’s development dynamics 2022: Growth, jobs, and inequality. World Bank.

  • The Erasure of Middle-Range Voices in Public School Music Education: A Personal and Scholarly Critique

    The Erasure of Middle-Range Voices in Public School Music Education: A Personal and Scholarly Critique

    Introduction

    Public school music education often privileges soprano and alto classifications while neglecting the full spectrum of female vocal development. This binary framework—high (soprano) and low (alto)—leaves middle-range voices, particularly mezzo-sopranos, misclassified, unsupported, and vulnerable to vocal damage. The lack of pedagogical training in vocal anatomy and classification among music educators contributes to this erasure, especially in under-resourced schools where choir directors rely on simplistic range assessments rather than evidence-based vocal pedagogy. This essay critiques the systemic favoring of soprano and alto roles, integrates a personal account of harm, and calls for trauma-informed reform in vocal education.

    Personal Account: Misclassification and Vocal Harm

    As a mezzo-soprano, I was repeatedly forced into alto roles throughout my public school music education. Teachers, unfamiliar with the middle register and operating within a binary framework, assigned me parts that sat well below my natural tessitura. Over time, this misclassification led to vocal strain, chronic fatigue, and ultimately, the loss of my singing voice. The emotional toll was profound: singing had been a source of joy, identity, and creative expression. Being silenced—both literally and figuratively—by educators who failed to recognize my voice type felt like a betrayal of my artistic potential and a dismissal of my humanity.

    This experience is not isolated. Ware (1998) emphasized that vocal classification must consider tessitura—the range where the voice is most comfortable—not just pitch extremes. When educators lack training in vocal pedagogy, they often assign parts based on perceived range peaks, forcing mezzo-sopranos into soprano roles that strain their voices or alto roles that suppress their resonance (Doscher, 1994). Dillon (n.d.) noted that choral directors frequently assign soprano and alto parts without assessing vocal comfort or maturity, especially in young singers.

    Binary Vocal Frameworks Harm Middle-Range Singers

    Many public school music teachers operate with a reductive binary: high (soprano) and low (alto), ignoring the nuanced middle register where mezzo-sopranos reside. This framework not only misclassifies voices but also erases the emotional and physiological needs of middle-range singers. Misclassification often results in vocal strain and emotional distress, especially when young singers are forced into roles that do not honor their natural voice (Ware, 1998; Doscher, 1994).

    Soprano and Alto Favoritism Reflects Institutional Bias

    Soprano voices are often favored in school choirs due to their melodic prominence and perceived “brightness,” while alto roles are treated as harmonic fillers. This favoritism marginalizes mezzo-sopranos, whose voices may not soar in the upper register but carry emotional depth and technical richness in the middle range (Dillon, n.d.).

    Lack of Vocal Pedagogy Training Perpetuates Harm

    Unlike other licensed professions, music educators are not required to demonstrate proficiency in vocal anatomy or classification. Bigler and Osborne (2021) argued that vocal pedagogy remains underdeveloped in teacher preparation programs, leading to widespread misclassification and harm. Clark (2024) advocated for trauma-informed, inclusive pedagogy that recognizes the full spectrum of vocal development, including mezzo-sopranos and contraltos.

    Conclusion

    The systemic misclassification of female voices in public school music education—particularly the erasure of mezzo-sopranos through forced assignment to soprano or alto roles—reflects a deeper institutional failure to honor vocal diversity, emotional integrity, and artistic stewardship. My own experience of being forced into alto roles despite my mezzo-soprano range resulted not only in vocal damage but in a profound emotional loss. Singing was not merely a skill—it was a form of self-expression, identity, and joy. The harm inflicted by untrained educators who operated within a binary framework of “high” and “low” voices silenced that joy and dismissed the complexity of my voice.

    This is not an isolated issue. As Ware (1998) and Doscher (1994) emphasized, proper vocal classification must consider tessitura and comfort—not just pitch range. Dillon (n.d.) further illustrated how institutional bias toward soprano and alto roles marginalizes middle-range singers, while Bigler and Osborne (2021) and Clark (2024) called for trauma-informed, inclusive pedagogy rooted in vocal science and equity. Without reform, public school music programs will continue to perpetuate harm, especially in under-resourced communities where artistic development is already fragile.

    To restore integrity in vocal education, schools must invest in evidence-based training for music educators, adopt inclusive classification frameworks, and center student voice—not just in sound, but in agency. My story is a testament to what happens when that agency is denied. It is also a call to action: to protect, honor, and amplify every voice, especially those that have been misheard, miscast, or silenced.


    References

    Bigler, A. R., & Osborne, K. (2021). Voice pedagogy for the 21st century: The summation of two summits. Journal of Singing, 78(1), 11–28. https://doi.org/10.53830/CXBG6722

    Clark, T. J. (2024). Harmonizing voices: Vocal pedagogy in 21st century music education [Doctoral dissertation, Liberty University]. Liberty University Digital Commons. https://digitalcommons.liberty.edu/doctoral/6320

    Dillon, A. H. (n.d.). Female voice classification and the choral director. Memorial University of Newfoundland. https://journals.library.mun.ca/index.php/singing/article/download/898/776/0

    Doscher, B. M. (1994). The functional unity of the singing voice. Scarecrow Press.

    Ware, C. (1998). Basics of vocal pedagogy: The foundations and process of singing. McGraw-Hill.

  • Redacted No More: Restoring Black Legacy in Policy, History, and Public Memory

    Redacted No More: Restoring Black Legacy in Policy, History, and Public Memory

    Nat Love, the real “Deadwood Dick,” and Bass Reeves, a legendary U.S. Marshal, were two of the most iconic Black figures of the American West. Yet their legacies were systematically overwritten by white fictional portrayals in literature and film, contributing to the erasure of Black presence in frontier narratives. This essay is part of Redacted No More: Restoring Black Legacy in Policy, History, and Public Memory—a principled effort to reclaim the historical truths buried beneath myth, media, and institutional silence.

    Nat Love (1854–1921), born into slavery in Tennessee, became one of the most skilled cowboys of the post–Civil War West. He earned the nickname “Deadwood Dick” after winning roping and shooting contests in Deadwood, South Dakota, on July 4, 1876 (Love, 1907; Legends of America, 2025). His autobiography, The Life and Adventures of Nat Love, documents his travels, rodeo victories, and encounters with figures like Billy the Kid and Bat Masterson. Love’s narrative challenges the myth that the American West was exclusively white (Annenberg Learner, 2025).

    As children in the 1960s, many recall seeing old movies about Deadwood Dick, always portrayed as white. These films perpetuated the myth of an all-white West, despite the fact that an estimated one in four cowboys were Black (Annenberg Learner, 2025). This cinematic pattern wasn’t accidental—it reflected a broader cultural redaction that erased Black contributions and replaced real figures like Nat Love with fictionalized white heroes.

    The name “Deadwood Dick” was co-opted by dime novelist Edward Lytton Wheeler, who created a fictional white cowboy hero in the 1870s. Wheeler’s character became the basis for pulp fiction and early cinema, including Deadwood Dick (1940), starring Donald Barry, and The Adventures of Deadwood Dick (1940 serial), both of which portrayed the character as white and disconnected from Love’s real-life story (Legends of America, 2025). These portrayals reinforced racial exclusion and mythologized the West as a white frontier.

    Bass Reeves (1838–1910), another towering figure, was born into slavery and later became one of the first Black deputy U.S. marshals west of the Mississippi. Over a 32-year career, he arrested more than 3,000 felons and was known for his expert marksmanship, use of disguises, and deep knowledge of Native languages and terrain (Morgan, 2025). Several of Reeves’ real-life exploits were co-opted into the fictional Lone Ranger franchise, which debuted in 1933 with a white protagonist and no acknowledgment of Reeves’ influence (Burton & Boardman, 2021).

    Among the scenarios lifted from Reeves’ life were his use of disguises to capture fugitives—once posing as a beggar with a sack of potatoes hiding his weapons—and his practice of handing out silver dollars to those he helped, a gesture mirrored in the Lone Ranger’s silver bullets (Burton & Boardman, 2021). Reeves also rode with Native American possemen, including Grant Johnson, a Black and Indigenous lawman, paralleling the Lone Ranger’s partnership with Tonto.

    Despite these parallels, Reeves was never credited, and the Lone Ranger was portrayed by white actors in radio, comics, and film. Like Nat Love, Bass Reeves was redacted from popular memory, replaced by sanitized white characters that distorted the racial realities of the frontier.

    This pattern of cinematic and literary erasure is not merely symbolic—it shapes public memory, policy narratives, and cultural legitimacy. When Black figures are replaced or omitted, their contributions to law, land, and legacy are denied. Restoring the legacies of Nat Love and Bass Reeves is not just a matter of historical correction—it is a demand for cultural accountability. Their stories are not folklore; they are fact, and they deserve to be taught, cited, and portrayed with integrity.


    References
    Annenberg Learner. (2025). Nat Love (1854–1921). https://www.learner.org/series/american-passages-a-literary-survey/masculine-heroes/nat-love-1854-1921/
    Burton, A., & Boardman, M. (2021). Once and for all, is the Lone Ranger based on Bass Reeves? True West Magazine. https://truewestmagazine.com/article/once-and-for-all-is-the-lone-ranger-based-on-bass-reeves/
    Legends of America. (2025). Nat Love, aka: Deadwood Dick. https://www.legendsofamerica.com/we-natlove/
    Love, N. (1907). The life and adventures of Nat Love, better known in the cattle country as “Deadwood Dick,” by himself.
    Morgan, T. (2025). Was the real Lone Ranger a Black man? History.com. https://www.history.com/articles/bass-reeves-real-lone-ranger-a-black-man

  • A Tale of Two Cities: Hunger in America and the White House Ballroom That Took Its Place

    A Tale of Two Cities: Hunger in America and the White House Ballroom That Took Its Place

    As millions of Americans brace for the loss of critical nutrition assistance, the Trump administration has bulldozed the East Wing of the White House to make way for a $300 million ballroom—an act defended by Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt as “the priority.” This juxtaposition of opulence and austerity demands scrutiny, not just of fiscal choices but of moral clarity. The East Wing, historically home to the First Lady’s staff, the White House calligraphers, and the public entrance to the “People’s House,” was demolished in late October 2025. Satellite imagery confirmed the complete teardown, despite earlier assurances from President Trump that the ballroom project would “not interfere” with the existing structure (Snopes, 2025; PBS NewsHour, 2025). Leavitt defended the demolition as necessary for “a truly strong and stable structure,” citing architectural counsel. She added that the new ballroom would be “modern and beautiful for many, many years to come” (ABC News, 2025). Critics, including preservationists and lawmakers, condemned the lack of public input and oversight, especially during a government shutdown that has paralyzed federal agencies responsible for historic review (Politico, 2025).

    While construction crews razed the East Wing, the U.S. Department of Agriculture confirmed that SNAP benefits will not be paid starting November 1, 2025, affecting over 40 million Americans (The Hill, 2025). The USDA has refused to release contingency funds, arguing that the shutdown is “manufactured” and therefore not a qualifying emergency (The Hill, 2025). Meanwhile, WIC benefits are expected to run out by November 15, despite a temporary infusion of $300 million from tariff revenues earlier in October. The National WIC Association warned that without additional funding, states may halt food benefits and furlough clinic staff, jeopardizing the health of nearly 7 million mothers and children (USA Today, 2025).

    The administration’s defense of the ballroom project—funded by private donors including defense contractors like Lockheed Martin and Palantir Technologies—raises ethical concerns. These donors have active federal contracts, prompting questions about influence and access (Ars Technica, 2025). The contrast is stark: while the White House touts architectural grandeur, families across the country face hunger and uncertainty. The prioritization of a ballroom over basic nutrition assistance reflects not just a budgetary choice but a philosophical one—one that places spectacle above stewardship.

    This moment is not merely about a building or a budget. It is about the symbolic and material consequences of governance that elevates elite comfort over public survival. The East Wing’s destruction, framed as a structural necessity, coincides with the erosion of structural supports for the nation’s most vulnerable. The ballroom’s construction is not just a physical displacement—it is a displacement of values. The decision to proceed with a luxury renovation while nutrition programs collapse is a policy signal: that ceremonial prestige outweighs the lived realities of food insecurity.

    The timing of these events compounds their impact. The government shutdown has frozen essential services, and the refusal to release emergency funds for SNAP and WIC reveals a deeper administrative posture—one that treats hunger as collateral damage in political brinkmanship. The USDA’s framing of the shutdown as “manufactured” suggests an internal acknowledgment of its preventability, yet that acknowledgment has not translated into protective action for families who rely on these programs (The Hill, 2025).

    Moreover, the funding sources for the ballroom project—private donors with federal contracts—introduce a layer of transactional governance. When defense contractors fund symbolic infrastructure at the executive residence, the line between public service and private influence blurs. This raises constitutional and ethical questions about access, favoritism, and the role of philanthropy in shaping federal priorities (Ars Technica, 2025).

    This tale of two cities—one gilded, one hungry—is not new. It echoes the contradictions of the Gilded Age, a period in American history spanning the 1870s to about 1900, marked by rapid industrial growth, conspicuous wealth, and staggering inequality. During that era, tycoons built mansions and monuments while laborers lived in tenements and children worked in factories. Political leaders often aligned with business interests, and public infrastructure lagged behind private luxury. The term “Gilded Age,” coined by Mark Twain and Charles Dudley Warner (Twain & Warner, 1873), was itself a critique: a thin layer of gold masking deep social decay.

    Today’s ballroom, like the mansions of the Gilded Age, is a gilded symbol—shiny, extravagant, and politically revealing. The simultaneous collapse of SNAP and WIC benefits mirrors the abandonment of public welfare during the late 19th century, when social safety nets were virtually nonexistent and philanthropy was used to justify inequality. The ballroom’s construction, funded by elite donors, recalls the patronage networks of the Gilded Age, where influence was traded for access and public policy bent to private will.

    In contrast, SNAP and WIC are not symbolic. They are lifelines. Their disappearance will not be marked by press releases or ribbon-cuttings but by empty refrigerators, missed meals, and clinic closures. The loss of these programs will disproportionately affect children, single mothers, disabled adults, and seniors—populations already navigating systemic barriers. The ballroom will host galas; the absence of SNAP and WIC will host grief.

    This is not just a fiscal crisis. It is a moral reckoning. The Gilded Age taught us that unchecked wealth and political spectacle can coexist with deep suffering—and that reform only comes when the public demands accountability. The question now is whether we will repeat that history or rewrite it.

    References

    ABC News. (2025, October 23). White House East Wing demolished, new images appear to show. ABC News. https://abcnews.go.com/Politics/new-images-show-entire-white-house-east-wing/story?id=126800684

    Ars Technica. (2025, October 24). Satellite shows what’s really happening at the East Wing of the White House. Ars Technica. https://arstechnica.com/space/2025/10/satellite-shows-whats-really-happening-at-the-east-wing-of-the-white-house/

    PBS NewsHour. (2025, October 24). The East Wing of the White House has been demolished. Here’s a look at its history. PBS. https://www.pbs.org/newshour/politics/the-east-wing-of-the-white-house-has-been-demolished-heres-a-look-at-its-history

    Politico. (2025, October 22). ‘It’s your house. And he’s destroying it’: Trump demolishes White House East Wing. Politico. https://www.politico.com/news/2025/10/22/white-house-demolition-sends-shock-waves-spurs-calls-for-pause-00618230

    Snopes. (2025, October 24). Trump demolished entire White House East Wing? Snopes. https://www.snopes.com/fact-check/trump-east-wing-white-house/

    The Hill. (2025, October 29). SNAP benefits won’t be paid in November: How long will WIC last? The Hill. https://thehill.com/homenews/5577160-snap-benefits-wont-be-paid-in-november-how-long-will-wic-last/

    USA Today. (2025, October 28). Will WIC benefits stop in November like SNAP? Here’s who could be impacted. USA Today. https://www.usatoday.com/story/money/2025/10/28/wic-government-shutdown-november-benefits/86946560007/

    Twain, M., & Warner, C. D. (1873). The Gilded Age: A tale of today. American Publishing Company.

  • Women at the Margins of the Movement

    Women at the Margins of the Movement

    History often remembers the Civil Rights Movement through the names of men—King, Malcolm, Lewis. But Meridian insists we look again. Women were the backbone of the struggle: organizing voter registration drives, teaching literacy, housing activists, and sustaining communities under siege. Yet their names rarely appear in textbooks.

    Through Meridian, Walker critiques this gendered silence. Women were expected to sacrifice without recognition, to serve without acknowledgment, and to carry the emotional weight of both the struggle and their families. By centering Meridian’s story, Walker reclaims space for women’s voices and insists that their contributions are not footnotes but foundations.

    Discussion Questions

    • Why do you think women’s contributions to the Civil Rights Movement were so often overlooked?

    • How does Walker’s novel serve as a corrective to that historical erasure?

  • The Quiet Weight of Activism

    The Quiet Weight of Activism

    Alice Walker’s Meridian strips away the romanticism often attached to the Civil Rights Movement. Instead of focusing on the fiery speeches or the iconic marches, Walker asks us to look at the quieter, more enduring labor of activism. Meridian Hill is not a leader in the spotlight; she is the woman who stays behind, teaching in rural schools, registering voters, and carrying the emotional and physical exhaustion of a movement that demanded everything.

    Her sacrifices—giving up her child, living in poverty, enduring illness—are not framed as weakness. They are testimony to the cost of choosing principle over comfort. Walker reminds us that freedom work is not glamorous. It is wearying, lonely, and often thankless. Yet it is precisely this kind of endurance that sustains movements long after the headlines fade.

    Discussion Questions

    • How does Walker’s portrayal of Meridian challenge the way we usually remember the Civil Rights Movement?

    • In what ways do we undervalue the “quiet” forms of activism today?