I was born and raised in rural Connecticut where people called my Asian-Indian father “oriental” and “monkey.” They threw rocks through our windows. We moved to New Jersey when I was 10. The local public school used me – the shy, half Indian/half Jewish kid – as its sole diversity statistic.
A neighbor drew a swastika on our car and called us the N-word. Someone at the mall referred to us as “dotheads.”
My family discussed race often. My mother participated in the 1963 March on Washington. She spent 1966-67 teaching at a black college in Alabama. Political discussions were never taboo in our home. My parents wanted my sister and me to develop our own independent viewpoints.
We are educators, social entrepreneurs and civil rights lawyers who speak our minds on behalf of those whose opportunities in life have been severely limited.
Deep in my own heart, I believe the very worst treatment is reserved for children and animals. Animal rights activists have their own stereotypes. I consider myself a rational vegan, so I stay out of that fray.
But when it comes to children, I can’t stay quiet. No one marches in the streets for abused kids. No one shuts down highways or creates snappy chants to bring awareness to the millions of kids, of all colors, in this country, languishing in abusive, neglectful and sometimes murderous homes.
Children’s rights are human rights too. I have never understood why they are not a priority.
The Daily Hampshire Gazette did not present a balanced picture of who I am. The newspaper selected my most outlandish statements and portrayed me as a heartless sociopath who couldn’t possibly serve well on the Human Rights Commission in Northampton. They chose not to highlight my outrage at the killing of Philando Castile in Minnesota, my lengthy legal takes on the failed prosecutions in the Freddie Gray case, my concerns about the blatant sexism of the presidential campaign, or my own experiences of sexual harassment when in court and visiting prisons.
Social media can be troublesome. I do sometimes use provocative language and hyperbole to express my intense feelings. But let me clear some things up. We have an enormous amount of work to do on race in this country, especially about police violence, an extremely complex problem. I see it every day as a criminal defense attorney. But does the fact that Black Lives Matter focuses on police violence mean one cannot raise questions?
What about the other killings, especially of children? I feel the same outrage over the death of 9-year-old Tyshawn Lee in Chicago as I do over 12-year-old Tamir Rice in Cleveland. (Tyshawn Lee was the boy killed in an alley because his father was in a rival gang.)
We all want state-sanctioned killing to stop. I understand the awesome power the state holds and I work to ensure it follows the rules. Yet I can’t and won’t shrug my shoulders at the rest of the killing.
Structural racism is very real, but so are personal choices and actions. It often seems that the white progressive movement avoids this issue out of fear of being labeled as racist.
Families should be responsible for loving and raising children to become loving, responsible adults. I do not think everyone should be a parent. (If you do, please go spend a day watching child welfare proceedings.) Obviously I do not believe forced sterilization is a real solution. In making a wild Twitter comment on this, I was expressing my passionate and disgusted reaction to an article describing a mother of six children accused of passively watching her partner severely beat her 4-year-old daughter. (Have any of my critics taken the time to read that article?)
I also believe that biology is not all it’s cracked up to be. I believe children should be taken out of their parents’ homes at the first sign of danger, returned only if their safety is absolutely assured, and intensively monitored. I told the Gazette reporter that if I had $10 billion, I would fund the child welfare and foster care systems. This comment did not make it into her story.
I express strong opinions, a right guaranteed under the First Amendment. These opinions (and my occasionally hyperbolic way of expressing them) make many people extremely uncomfortable. It’s OK to be uncomfortable sometimes.
I’m still processing the events – and the attacks – of the past weeks. I will be doing so for a long time. My dissenting views made me a target, even a scapegoat. I will keep speaking my mind.
I certainly don’t have all the answers, but I had hoped to work on problems in this community with other people who also care about the world. I still believe the only way forward is through honest expression and conversation.
Tara Ganguly lives in Northampton.