Category: The Last Word

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Opinion The Last Word

Trump’s War on American Kids

Protecting children doesn’t look like a heavily armed task force; it looks like universal pre-K, Sesame Street, and, yes, SNAP benefits. (Photo: (left) National Cancer Institute | Unsplash)

President Donald Trump has been having a rough week, at least so far as PR goes. He can’t seem to quiet down the hubbub over deceased convicted sex offender Jeffrey Epstein. Then The Wall Street Journal published an alleged birthday letter from Trump to the disgraced billionaire financier, sparking a flurry of furious and intermittently capitalized posts from the president to Truth Social, in which he cried “hoax,” threatened to sue the Journal, and called out owner Rupert Murdoch by name. Schadenfreude has never been my favorite feeling, but, truly, you love to see it. 

On the heels of that ever-growing snowball of a story, the president’s reconciliation package has spurred a slew of posts, articles, TikTok videos, and official reports about the detrimental effects cuts to the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP) will have on American families. According to research from the Urban Institute, a nonpartisan instrument for policy research, the cuts to the SNAP program will affect 22.3 million American families, with families losing around $146 a month on average. 

Finally, last week, on July 17, 2025, Mother Jones reported that the Trump administration’s State Department “decimated its office combating human trafficking.” 

(Gemma C | Unsplash)

“For 25 years, the [Office to Monitor and Combat Trafficking in Persons] has worked to combat human sex and labor trafficking around the world,” Pema Levy writes for the magazine’s website. 

Looking at these recent news items together, one can almost triangulate a general attitude toward children and other vulnerable groups. It’s almost as if the current administration — and anyone aiding them — hates kids. 

Here’s the simple fact of the matter: Evil is banal. It’s not a coven of cloaked politicians and celebrities, their leader dramatically raising a silver knife above a bound and helpless child, ready to be sacrificed to dark gods or moon-dwelling lizard people. Evil is tax cuts for people who don’t need them, paid for by taking money from vulnerable groups. It means assessments that cost more to perform than the amount of fraud they prevent. It’s the “bootstraps” mentality, the idea that compassion and community are weaknesses, but unchecked competition is somehow socially beneficial. 

Similarly, real heroes rarely wear capes or a big, goofy, primary-colored symbol across their chests. They’re social workers and teachers and nurses and government employees in bland offices doing boring work because they know that, even if they don’t see the results or receive thanks, their dull and dreary office job means industrial chemicals won’t leach into soil next to a preschool. Protecting children doesn’t look like a heavily armed task force; it looks like universal pre-K, Sesame Street, and, yes, SNAP benefits. It’s a different kind of heroism, with no trumpets, no string section. 

If you want to protect your children — or aging parents or friends and family with disabilities — you have to ensure that they’re all protected. Some Americans apparently thought that rights and protections being stripped from other groups meant they would be safer, that they would be the recipients of whatever remained, but the reverse is true. Those Americans cheered while the precedent for their own disenfranchisement was set. 

To my eyes, Trump’s recent PR woes are hardly news. The selfishness and cruelty have always been there, and they’re by no means exclusive to the president. The ongoing controversy around the alleged Epstein files seem to be a bridge too far for some among his MAGA acolytes, though, and when it comes to optics, the timing of the downsizing of the State Department’s human trafficking office couldn’t have come at a worse time. It does paint a gruesome picture though. 

Drag queens, DEI, trans athletes, immigrants — there’s always some nebulous threat waiting to swoop down and carry off American children, and only Trump and his GOP cronies can protect them.

If that’s true, though, and if they really care about our kids’ safety, why are they working so hard to make sure American children are hungry? 

Jesse Davis is a former Flyer staffer; he writes a monthly Books feature for Memphis Magazine. His opinions, such as they are, include a belief that the phrase “hungry kids” shouldn’t even exist in the year 2025, for Pete’s sake. 

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Opinion The Last Word

A Howlin’ Wolf, “Momma” Cat, and Tobias A. Turtle

Animal encounters can teach us how to cope with an unpredictable society. (Photos: Ken Billett)

Zoe poked her snout at a rounded “object” sitting in the middle of our backyard. I walked over to check out her discovery, which then retracted its legs and tiny tail. I stopped. “Zoe, it’s a tortoise!” I exclaimed. Or was it a turtle? I can never remember the difference.

Now, our sweet — but neurotic — border collie acted both curious and concerned. She lowered her head back down at the shell and then danced backwards, much like a prizefighter staying just out of reach of an opponent, warily eyeing her find but not daring to turn her back on it. Zoe knew some living thing inhabited this “object,” but she had no idea where that living thing had gone, or how to get to it. After a few more moments of canine investigation, I lured Zoe away with a reminder that breakfast was waiting back inside the house.

Friday morning’s discovery of a wandering reptile was a fitting end to a week of animal encounters, helping me regain some perspective on our ever increasingly scary and unpredictable society. Animals — large and small, wild or domesticated — represent the good in this world and their “spirit” can teach us how to cope when it seems almost impossible to do so. Animals adapt and persevere despite the challenges posed by nature and problems created by humankind. National politics, regional weather disasters, and, sadly, a shocking jury verdict here in Memphis had caused me to turn inward and to try my best to lower the volume on all that external noise. Some of that clatter continued to seep through, however, causing me additional worry and heartache. That’s why those encounters were so important — providing a fresh perspective while urging me to “keep the faith!”

Earlier in the week, Vicki and I took advantage of Tennessee Tuesday at the Memphis Zoo — free admission after 2 p.m. for all Tennessee residents. Vicki hadn’t visited the zoo in ages, and I hadn’t been there in nearly two years. Like most zoo visitors, we started in Cat Country, marveled at the huge felines, and then wound our way past those “silly penguins” (as Vicki calls them), who patrolled the waters of Penguin Rock. We ended up at Once Upon a Farm, where, years ago, we’d take our kids to see the goats and the chickens, and, of course, ride the old-fashioned train.

Moving through the zoo reminded me how much joy and wonder these animals bring to children and to adults. We overheard lots of calling out and laughter, along with clomping feet, as kids of varying ages scampered from one enclosure to the next. The zoo allows you to focus on animals and the natural world and to tune out (even for a little while) the outside “noise” of humanity. We stopped by the China exhibit, which is now home to the red pandas — one of Vicki’s favorites — along with two Asian clouded leopards. The highlight of our zoo adventure happened at the Teton Trek exhibit when the timber wolves — four siblings that are around 2 years old — put on a howl fest for the guests. Now I was full of wonder and joy watching this familial foursome yowl and yap at one another — something I’d never seen live. Incredible.

As the week wore on, that joy and wonder slowly evaporated. The jury verdict along with the ongoing idiocy in Washington battered my perspective much like all those May rain storms did to the Mid-South. Then “Momma” showed up on our front porch late Thursday afternoon. Momma is the last remaining feline roamer in our neighborhood. She hangs out mostly across the street but knows that I’m her human food source — twice a day, seven days a week. Momma is one of the sweetest creatures you’ll ever meet, and during our late afternoon “porch party,” I slowly relaxed and simply enjoyed the moment with Momma.

She ate while keeping an eye on her surroundings. Momma was content but on guard. There’s a certain simplicity to her world. She has adapted to her circumstances and maintains an awareness of potential dangers, yet Momma survives day in and day out. She endures.

Most importantly, Momma appears to be at peace. Maybe that’s the lesson to be learned from Momma and all those other wonderful creatures — strength and perseverance come from within, and to endure, we must “keep the faith” in the face of adversity.

We learned that our reptilian vagabond was a box turtle that I named Tobias and shortened to Toby. After feeding Zoe and refilling Momma’s food bowl, I returned to the backyard to check on Toby. Motoring along in the grass, Toby headed to the far end of our yard. Watching Toby do what turtles do — survive, persevere, endure — I felt at peace, my perspective restored. 

Ken Billett is a freelance writer and short-story fiction author. He and his wife, Vicki, have called Memphis home for over 35 years. When not listening to blues music, Ken reads spy novels and tends to his flowers.

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Opinion The Last Word

Lotus Eating

We’re all lotus-eaters in a way. (Photo: Jay Castor | Unsplash)

I love going to the movies. I even work in a movie theater because I love movies so much. I watched Jurassic Park and The Pagemaster so much as a kid that I ruined the VHS tapes. I used to peruse and perhaps haunt video stores like Midtown Video and Black Lodge weekly. My dad and I always went to see the latest movies (a majority of them horror films; God bless the man, I’m unsure if he was as keen on the genre as I was). I love talking about movies to anyone who asks, and I’m the guy my coworkers go get when it’s time to sell a customer on upcoming attractions. I love cinema.

Yet I also find myself binge watching TV. In fact, when I house-sit for my parents once in a blue moon, I plop down and try to watch as much golden age television as I can. The Sopranos and The West Wing and The Wire … I’ve seen all of Vince Gilligan’s ABQ trilogy (Breaking Bad, Better Call Saul, El Camino). Once again, I. Love. Cinema. Even the cinema that comes in a smaller screen and 13 episode increments.

But I also find myself addicted to another screen: my phone. I try to justify it by saying, “Oh, I’m looking at the news” or “I’m reading an essay on yadda-yadda.” But, if I’m honest, I watch just as much Let’s Play content and silly cartoons. I watch “mindless content.” I used to belittle people obsessed with reality TV, things like The Real Housewives or Jersey Shore or you name it. But how hypocritical of me to watch my escapist content and deny others theirs.

I thought maybe I should lessen my screen time and read more. I had been a literature major, after all. I should read more. So I put my nose in a book and smugly sneered at all those folks who “can’t put their phone down.” But is this any different? I’m still ignoring the world around me and escaping into a different world. Sure, I can justify my intentions once again (Oh, but it’s Jane Eyre! Not like those other ghost stories). But at the end of the day, I’m still turning my brain away from outside stimuli.

So, fine, I know what I’ll do. I’ll go into the woods! I’ll go in completely naked of technology. I’ll dive back into those old-school ways and engage with nature. I’ll be like Thoreau at Walden Pond! I’ll find peace like Kerouac on top of a fire tower, in solitude. Oh, how clueless I was. I’m still escaping. I escaped by watching trees sway hypnotically with the wind or clouds swirling and conjuring images in them. I can’t seem to do anything but escape! 

Isn’t that a good thing though? Isn’t that just human? We’ve always craved a story. Our minds can’t help but do it. I write for a living. My whole career banks on imagination and exploration, on drama and storytelling. How can I deny anyone their escapism? It’s just the way we are. 

There is a famous story in the Odyssey. Odysseus and his crew land on an island where the population eats fruit that makes you forget. It puts you in a dream-like state and makes you never want to leave. Eventually, half the crew stays while Odysseus and the rest manage to get back on their ship. The tale derides those who stay behind. But I am starting to understand them.

In today’s political climate, with all these screens and updates and news flashes, you can get so overwhelmed that you want to pop! It’s only human to turn to the arts or content to relieve that pressure a bit. I’ve seen some explode when you bring up a single topic (“Please! No politics! I can’t take it!”). Back in Victorian times, they used to escape to the seaside to slip out of the pains and pressures (and probably fumes) of city life. I imagine they’d also be just as curious about all these escapist fictions and semi-fictions we inundate ourselves with now. I’m certain that Jane Austen would crave a little Below Deck giggle and guffaw. She was the original writer of scandalous day-to-day gossip fiction.

You need to escape for a little bit once in a while. But let us try not to stay in that escapism for too long lest we become complacent and lazy and lotus-eating as the world turns without us or our consent. I catch myself drifting when the news turns toward tariffs and trade wars and Gaza and Ukraine and, now …

I can’t seem to breathe. I think I’m going to rewatch Jurassic Park now.

William Smythe is a local writer and poet. He writes for Focus Mid-South, an LGBT+ magazine.

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Opinion The Last Word

Memphis Is My Boyfriend: A Summer of Teening

Teens may figure out who they are in quiet or aimless ways. (Photo: Patricia Lockhart)

This summer is flying by fast! Before you know it, it’ll be time to buy school supplies and uniforms for these kids. But until then, we’re staying cool and doing a whole lot of “teening.” I’ve got an 11-year-old girl, twin 13-year-old boys, and a 17-year-old boy. Watching them this summer, I’ve learned that doing “nothing” is something too. And oftentimes, it’s the best kind of something to do.

When I think of “doing something,” I picture going out, socializing, creating a new experience. But that’s my 40-year-old brain talking. For teenagers, “doing something” looks completely different. And honestly? My teens don’t want to do a lot of the things I want to do with them.

Ever since Nintendo dropped the Switch 2, our house has been buzzing with talk about the system’s perks, new games, and updates. I’m not going to lie — I’m not sure I can compete with the hype. My husband and I have made it very clear: We will NOT be spending $450 on a new gaming system. So what did the kids do? They put their heads together and started brainstorming a business plan. They’ve even talked about selling candy and offering odd-end chores around the neighborhood. I’ve got to respect the hustle.

As for the Summer Bingo — well, it’s definitely flopping in the Lockhart household. Only one teen is truly taking it seriously. At least three to four times a week, he comes to me to verify that his activity fits the criteria and safely marks it off. He tells me his plans and even encourages his siblings to participate. He really wants to get a “Yes” from his parental units. As I write this, I can’t help but hope he doesn’t use his “Yes” on the Nintendo Switch 2 … that would be diabolical.

Here’s where we stand on Summer Bingo:

Out of the 25 Bingo squares, they have roughly completed nine. When I asked the kids about their intentions to finish the challenge, they said, “Yeah, we will … but it’s too outside.” Here’s what they’ve completed so far:

• Play a new video game: Of course. Completed on Day 1.

• Host a summer party: Done. Aiden celebrated his 17th birthday.

• Attend a music concert: Yes! Axis at Life Church.

• Try a new food: They made and tried spinach artichoke dip. It got a thumbs-up.

• Enjoy a fun indoor activity: Built forts that were Dad-approved.

• Craft something new (IRL!): Music, makeup, paintings — check!

• Go swimming: Lots of pool time on vacation.

• Eat pizza for breakfast: Happened more than once.

• Learn a TikTok dance and teach it: Yes, and it was hilarious.

Some readers may wonder, “If they’re not doing a lot of things on the list, what exactly are teenagers doing during the summer?” Well … a whole lot of “teening.” 

• Sleeping in (They usually don’t rise before 11 a.m.)

• Playing video games

• Hanging out with friends (online or IRL)

• Listening to music, watching shows, exploring trends

• Daydreaming or doing “nothing” while still growing and processing life

• Fulfilling basic chores and study expectations

• Playing bass guitar, doing makeup, or other creative outlets

So when someone says teens are “teening,” it means they’re just being teens — figuring out who they are, often in quiet, messy, or aimless ways that don’t show up on to-do lists … or, in my case, Summer Bingo. But they matter all the same.

My daughter is all-in on makeup. She watches endless YouTube tutorials and recently recreated the look of Camilla Cream from A Bad Case of Stripes. My eldest is into bass guitars. He writes his own music and puts on mini concerts for us. He even assigned me piano music to accompany his bass solos — now I just need to practice so I don’t embarrass him. As for the twins? They’re embracing the freedom of doing nothing. I’ve actually gotten more hugs from them this summer just by letting them be.

Was my Summer Bingo a great idea? Absolutely. Was it what they needed this summer? Apparently not. Each day, my teens do something. It might not be a Bingo square, but it’s something they need. And maybe, in this season, what they need most is space — to rest, to explore, to be.

As parents, we come up with great plans. But they may not always align with where our kids are developmentally or emotionally. I’m not too proud to admit defeat or acknowledge when what I envisioned isn’t what they needed. And that’s okay.

Because sometimes, the best parenting move is simply stepping back and giving them the space to grow into themselves. 

Patricia Lockhart is a native Memphian who loves to read, write, cook, and eat. By day, she’s an assistant principal and writer, but by night … she’s asleep.

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Opinion The Last Word

The Basement Tapes: One Millennial’s Musings on Money 

Just two millennials moving back home (Photos: Jesse Davis)

At the beginning of this month, my wife and I made a move, one that we hope will go some way to improving our fortunes. We’re joining the not-insignificant number of millennial adults who have moved back in with their parents. 

According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, more than 50 percent of millennials who have moved out of their parents’ home have, at some point, moved back. That was a number I never thought to find myself in, though. That particular safety net didn’t exist for me until I got married. Both my parents live with their respective sisters, so to move “back home” was something of a logistical challenge, not that it was exactly an outcome I had hoped for, either. So, with my wife’s Bonus Mom, as she calls herself, renting her basement to us for the family discount, an amount not unlike pre-Covid-inflation rental rates, I recognize the privilege I have. Not everyone has a safe place to fall back to after they’ve fallen on their face.

Still, despite how fortunate we are, it rankles that our economic reality turned on the whims of a South African billionaire and his team of underqualified coders at DOGE. Their cuts to funding for federal agencies like the National Institutes of Health and the National Science Foundation spelled doom for the future of science research in this country, true, and also for my wife’s and my jobs. It’s not so much that a sudden change in national policy so drastically affected my household that bothers me. After all, we are all subject to changes in the global climate; new trends and technologies change how we interact and consume, and livelihoods are affected. No, it’s the frivolous nature of DOGE’s cuts that gall me, how completely devoid of merit the entire organization is, how shortsighted their so-called “savings” will prove to be, and how much harm has been done, now and far into the future. 

I can’t help but wonder how many other American citizens are making similar moves, just so a self-obsessed confidence trickster can create the illusion of fiscal responsibility and Art of the Deal-like economic wizardry — all while adding to the national debt and simultaneously eroding the nation’s few bulwarks against future threats, such as climate disaster, severe storms, and disease. Are there former NASA scientists navigating a terrifying new medical diagnosis while also figuring out what insurance they now qualify for? Are there former national parks employees moving themselves and their kids into smaller apartments? Surely, there must be. I can say for certain, there are two new parents with a new baby and new (low-paying) jobs who have just moved into a parent’s basement while they work to save and strive for more secure careers. 

Life goes on for us average Joes, as our leaders throw themselves military parades, order illegal air strikes, do the trade-war tango with our allies and enemies, and bully local governments into sucking up to them. Shouldn’t our national policies and budgetary goals strive to make life safer and more secure for the vast majority of us? Businesses fail, droughts and floods and blizzards happen; no one is perfectly protected from life’s buffets. But that statistic I mentioned earlier — that more than half of millennials now live or have lived with their parents after moving out — that doesn’t seem like an indicator of a healthy and thriving economic system. Unless, that is, it’s meant to work more like a casino slot machine than anything else. It’s paying out, dummy — just not for you. 

I had hoped to litter this feature with statistics and quotes from reputable sources. I wanted to add context about the minimum wage, tax structures over time, etc. But to be perfectly honest, I’ve got work at a temp job soon, boxes to unpack, and probably a baby diaper to change. So take these words with a grain of salt, and be careful what you read on the internet (and in print). Just because someone has a fancy byline in a newspaper doesn’t mean they don’t live in their wife’s step-mother’s basement. 

Jesse Davis is a former Flyer staffer; he writes a monthly Books feature for Memphis Magazine. His opinions, such as they are, have literally never ordered avocado toast. Not even once. 

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Opinion The Last Word

Food Waste Is a Trash Problem in Memphis

The average individual American wastes about $800 worth of food annually. (Photo: Ian Allenden | Dreamstime.com)

If you’ve ever tossed out a takeout container of food that went uneaten, left your leftovers behind at a restaurant, or let food spoil in the fridge, you’re not alone. But collectively, these everyday habits are adding up to a major environmental crisis. An estimated 38 percent of what ends up in Memphis landfills is food-related waste, according to the Natural Resources Defense Council (NRDC). By weight, that’s more than cardboard, plastic, or textiles — and it’s a problem we can actually do something about.

Across Memphis, businesses, caterers, and everyday citizens are beginning to take a closer look at food waste and how to stop it at the source. From local food recovery efforts to public education initiatives, it’s clear that small changes in behavior can lead to measurable reductions in what ends up in the trash. But to move the needle citywide, we need even more people to understand the problem — and recognize their power to help solve it.

Why food waste matters: When food ends up in a landfill, it doesn’t just “go away.” Instead, it decomposes without oxygen and releases methane, a greenhouse gas over 25 times more potent than carbon dioxide. This traps heat in our atmosphere, accelerates climate change, and contributes to air quality issues.

The impact also shows up in our wallets. The average individual American wastes about $800 worth of food annually — money lost to forgotten leftovers, uneaten produce, and overbuying. Tackling this issue is good for both the planet and your budget.

Additionally, wasting food exhausts the energy, water, and labor that went into growing, processing, transporting, and preparing that food. In a country where many families face food insecurity, seeing perfectly edible meals go to waste is not just inefficient; it’s unjust.

And the scale of it is staggering. Nationally, we squander more than 30 percent of our food supply each year, amounting to over 130 billion pounds of food. In our city, that waste is highly visible in our landfills and invisible on the dinner plates that come up short. In fact, the NRDC estimated that 5,000 tons of food suitable for rescue are available in Memphis each year.

Restaurants and residents, you have a role: The good news? Reducing food waste is a problem we can all take part in solving, whether you’re a business owner, a student, or a home cook. For restaurants and caterers, food waste often shows up in the form of over-prepped ingredients, uneaten catering trays, or the ever-present overstock. Instead of trashing it, local businesses can partner with food rescue organizations to donate surplus food. Resources like Careit, a free donation-tracking app sponsored by Project Green Fork in Memphis and Shelby County, connect food donors to local nonprofit recipients in real time. Participating in efforts like this lessens landfill waste and helps feed Memphians who need it.

Food businesses can also minimize waste by rethinking portion sizes, improving inventory management, getting creative with surplus ingredients, and training staff on proper food storage and labeling practices. Through these steps, restaurants can make practical changes that lower waste without cutting corners.

For individuals, food waste reduction starts at home. That can look like meal planning to avoid overbuying, storing food properly to extend freshness, and making inventive dishes with leftovers. Learning how to interpret “best by,” “use by,” and “sell by” dates can also make a big difference, as many foods are safe and delicious well past their printed dates. When food scraps are truly unavoidable, consider composting them either at home or through a local program like The Compost Fairy to keep organic matter out of the landfill and return nutrients to the soil.

What Memphis is doing — and what’s next: Citywide, there are encouraging signs that cutting food waste is gaining momentum. Food recovery efforts at major venues have diverted thousands of pounds of high-quality, uneaten food from the landfill and into the hands of local organizations serving those in need. 

In schools, waste audits are helping students and staff better understand the impact of food waste. These audits often involve measuring how much unopened or uneaten food is discarded each day, providing data that can improve menu planning, portioning, and student education.

But there’s still a long way to go. Memphis needs stronger public investment in food waste prevention, composting access, and infrastructure to support large-scale food rescue. We need more businesses to step up as regular food donors and more residents to recognize the costs of throwing out edible food.

A solvable problem: Food waste is something we can address right now, using tools that already exist and partnerships that are already working. Reducing waste doesn’t require reinventing the wheel; it just means thinking a little differently about the food we grow, buy, serve, and share.

In a city where nearly four in 10 landfill-bound materials are food-related, the opportunity is enormous — and so is the responsibility. By changing how we treat food waste, Memphis can lessen its environmental footprint, improve food security, and build a healthier, more equitable community for everyone.

Together, we can take the steps to stop throwing away what could feed our city and start building a future where nothing good goes to waste. 

Leann Edwards is program director for Project Green Fork.

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Opinion The Last Word

Walking the Greensward

Finding litter around the Greensward is easy; picking it up is easier. (Photos: Abigail Morici)

In the shade of these two trees, I do decree that the Overton Park Greensward is the place to be on a lovely spring day. Beside me, as I write this, three old men putter their golf balls and sputter tales of feats of strength from their better days. We are near the Abe Goodman Golf Clubhouse, one of the theoretical ends of the vast green space I just traversed. The other end of the Greensward is where the zoo stands in grand display, streams of patrons coming and going. Westerly Rust Hall, which has yet to rust during its recent dormancy, bridges the span between these two landmarks, and the Old Forest silently hovers to the east, watchful and wise. (I’m excited to see the Metal Museum move in and bring more folks to such a gorgeous section of our city.)

But here, on this fine afternoon, I witness a myriad of neighbors enjoying the weather. Most of them are picnicking or basking in the sunshine. One lady lies in repose, almost reenacting Christina’s World by Wyeth, watching folks come and go. In the center of the field is a spread of white and yellow flowers, none I know by name, maybe buttercups or daisies. Bees buzz by here and there, sniffing (can insects smell?) and pollinating (that I’m certain of). Winter’s weight is being shrugged off, slowly, if not surely.

Families stroll around Rainbow Lake, and some of them admire the turtles, also sunbathing themselves. The kids gawk and squawk at them, in awe. Earlier, I made friends with a raven outside the Memphis Zoo. He’d caw, I’d caw back. It was something I used to do as a kid, and it’s something I feel like doing now, as a full grown man. Who cares who’s watching or judging? It’s a fun and good time here at the Greensward! I’ll be as silly as I like.

But, as I move from the zoo’s parking lot, I see scars left by the cars when they used it for overflow parking. Bottles and cans litter the verdant landscape, and on one end of Rainbow Lake (near the quiet family of turtles), Taco Bell and Chick-fil-A wrappers float around. I fish a plastic bag from the small runoff between the lake and the zoo.

One man helping keep our green spaces clean is Sam Blair of HBC Trailworks. The group meets on the weekends to repair and renovate Overton Park. Midwinter, around the end of February, the HBC and Overton Park Conservancy teamed up with a local Boy Scout troop (plus family and friends, other volunteers) to replace the limestone in the Loop. They claim to have spread about 50,000 pounds of the rock in one single afternoon!

But it can’t just be one group of volunteers maintaining our Greensward and various other green spaces. We as dutiful citizens ought to keep a vigilant eye and greasy elbow, ready to spear any loose debris we see. I’ve contemplated walking around with a trash bag on my days off, and I do my best to pick up trash as I walk. In fact, on a recent rainy day, I run into someone doing just that.

The dutiful citizen, Kendra, stands at the trestle that welcomes folks to her neighborhood and all its shops, plucking up garbage with a claw. “I bought it for cheap at Home Depot,” she remarks, “bucket too.” She has a podcast playing and her bucket is already halfway full with discarded bottles, paper bags, a panoply of unrecognizable debris. “It began,” she tells me, “as a community project for the Cooper-Young [Community] Association. Just neighbors being neighborly.” 

But when her job with the Grizzlies required her to perform service hours, she figured this would be a great way to fulfill those. “I may continue to do this even after I complete the hours required,” Kendra says. “That is, if the summer doesn’t get too hot. We’ll see how long this lasts when the degrees reach the 90s daily.”

Perhaps that’s what prevents most folks from going out with their own claws and buckets. It is hard to want to do anything in the oppressive heat, when even existing is sweat-inducing. But, if we can all promise to at least wait until we see a trash can to throw our fries away or pick up some of the trash we see, perhaps we can maintain this beauty a little bit more. Or at the very least, we can keep a Rainbow Lake turtle from choking on a Tops Bar-B-Q wrapper.  

William Smythe is a local writer and poet. He writes for Focus Mid-South, an LGBT+ magazine.

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Opinion The Last Word

Memphis Is My Boyfriend: Summer BINGO

Here’s to Summer BINGO! (Photo: Patricia Lockhart)

It’s summertime! School is out, and my teens’ stomachs have officially kicked into overdrive. They’ve been ready for summer break since the day state testing ended. I’ve got an 11-year-old girl, twin 13-year-old boys, and a 16-year-old boy — fresh out of 6th, 7th, and 11th grades. And let me tell you, they are so done with structure (unless it involves snacks). Parenting teenagers requires a unique set of skills. They want independence but also want you close by. They get bored quickly, but if you suggest something to do, it’s met with side-eye. Their moods can flip faster than a TikTok trend.

My teens span from procrastinators to the do-everything-now-and-at-once personalities. I have teens who remember what day it is and those who live in the feral world of technology. Half of my teens prefer to do their chores in the morning, so they can spend the rest of the day chilling, while the other half prefers to complete their chores in 15 segments, taking them most of the day to finish. (And they inevitably complain that they’ve been “working” all day.)

Beyond home chores, the kids still also have academic responsibilities: required readings, online math courses, and ACT prep. The twins will be taking algebra I next year, so they must complete coursework for pre-algebra as assigned by their teacher on Khan Academy. Our rising 7th grader can strengthen her math foundations, too, by completing free online courses at Khan Academy. A few lessons a day really help to fight against the summer slide. (That’s the phenomenon where students forget instructional concepts over the summer and regress in their knowledge.) My eldest son recently got a 33 on the ACT. He’s aiming for a 36!

All four of my teens have required reading from their school, and only one has actually taken the steps to obtain their necessary books. Am I going to remind the other three? Absolutely not! Ha! They get the same emails I get from their teachers, and I think this is a perfectly safe opportunity to learn “Prior Proper Planning Prevents a Poor Performance.” May the odds be ever in their favor.

But I don’t want summer to be all work. I want my kids to enjoy their friends, family, and each other — and maybe even look back and say, “It was a’ight.” (I know better than to hope for more enthusiastic reviews.) Since all their personalities are so different, I needed something flexible but motivating. So I gamified it: Summer BINGO! It gives them structure and freedom, which is key when working with teens. 

Here are some things they can find on their BINGO Card.

• Fix or enhance something around the house

• Host a summer party

• Attend a music concert

• Write and mail a letter to five people

• Initiate “The Talk” with Mom or Dad

• Have a “low interaction” day

• Attend a festival

• Craft something new (IRL!)

• Visit a museum

• Sit with an elder

• Go on a nature walk

• Conduct 10 random acts of kindness

• Eat pizza for breakfast

• Learn a TikTok dance and teach it to someone

The rules:

1. Black-out BINGO! All of the activities must be completed!

2. No doubling-up. Each activity must be its own separate episode in a season. For example, your “Enjoy a Fun Outdoor Activity” cannot also be “Go Swimming” or “Visit a Farmers Market.” 

3. Document the moment! You can document using pictures, video, or journaling! (Random acts of kindness can be exempt from this rule.)

4. No loopholes. This is a traditional BINGO, not a Gen Z or Gen Alpha remix.

5. One square per day! This BINGO should take a minimum of 25 days to complete.

6. Prize: This BINGO must be completed by July 31st. The winners will receive a “Yes” token. This token can turn a “no” or “maybe” into a “yes”! (Cannot be redeemed on “hell naws.”)

While summer always seems to fly by, I’m hoping this BINGO challenge helps to break up the monotony and add a little intentional fun to the chaos. It’s also a sneaky way to cut down on the nagging — a win for me! And honestly, I’m sure I’ll end up having a few unexpected adventures of my own. I’ll be sure to keep you all posted on how the teens are doing. Wish us luck! 

Patricia Lockhart is a native Memphian who loves to read, write, cook, and eat. By day, she’s an assistant principal and writer, but by night … she’s asleep.

Categories
Opinion The Last Word

Reverse Robin Hood: Trump’s Big Beautiful Bill

The bill robs the poor and gives to the rich. (Photo: Caleb Perez | Unsplash)

President Donald Trump’s so-called “Big Beautiful Bill” passed the House of Representatives on Thursday, May 22nd, ensuring that this farcical moment in United States history will be remembered as one of the cruelest and most moronic. Future textbooks will need to have footnotes explaining that, yes, this actually happened; yes, they actually called the bill the One Big Beautiful Bill Act; and, yes, it was a budget reconciliation bill introduced by the country’s apparent “fiscally conservative party” that experts estimated would add the paltry sum of $3.8 trillion to the national debt. 

The bill seems to derive its name from the big, beautiful, and extremely expensive (for everyday Americans) tax cuts for the incredibly rich. How, though, to pay for such a scheme? 

Rob the poor and give to the rich, of course! The age-old strategy, the timeless truth, that the strong take from the weak and keep for themselves. With America’s clever tax structure, all those savings will begin trickling down any time now. Better ready your umbrellas, readers, because there is no way all those big beautiful dollars will be used to pay lobbyists, invest in deregulation and privatization, or fund vanity joy rides to the stratosphere. 

Since wealthy titans of industry will be creating so many jobs and flooding the economy with their trickled-down riches, there will be little need for social safety net programs. So they’re on the chopping block to help fund this big, beautiful wealth transfer. The bill would reduce spending on the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP) to the tune of about $267 billion over 10 years. It would also strengthen work requirements for Medicaid and SNAP recipients, including doing away with current exemptions for parents with children under 18. Those exemptions would now only apply to parents with dependents under the age of 7 years old. Because what the nation needs is a bunch of unsupervised 8-year-old latchkey kids. 

Some of the cost of SNAP benefits would be foisted off on the states, which will surely go over well in states like Tennessee, which depend on federal aid to keep the gears turning. In 2028, states would begin to shoulder 5 percent of benefit costs (up from zero) and 75 percent of the program’s administrative costs (an increase of 25 percent, up from half the admin costs). 

It’s nonsensical. It’s absurd. And it’s getting more and more difficult to imagine that everyone wants to solve the complicated problems our country faces, but can’t agree on the means to do so. It almost seems as though the People-in-Charge want a poorly educated populace, with everyone working two or three part-time jobs without benefits and renting everything their parents used to own. 

There’s more to the bill than kicking the poor while they’re down, of course. It also sets out to kneecap some of former President Joe Biden’s environmental protections, allow increased leasing of public lands for mining and drilling, increase taxes on university endowments, and — at long last! — shuffle a measly additional $150 billion over to the Defense Department, to give America’s grossly underfunded military a much-needed shot in the arm. 

This bill is so cartoonishly avaricious as to make The Simpsons’ Mr. Burns blush — and he’s an actual cartoon! A cartoon character who once tried to sell Springfield sunlight, who has a closet full of evening wear made from the pelts of endangered animals. He’s a cartoon character who, quite famously, once actually tried to take candy from a baby! 

This cannot continue. Every American — including those one-issue voters whose ballots were cast based solely on anti-abortion sentiment or fear for their right to bear arms — should be disgusted by the absolute lack of morality evidenced by the budget this bill proposes. 

It’s this simple: If our nation is strong, it can afford to protect its most vulnerable. If it’s great, it doesn’t need to deny food assistance to children or medical care to the poor. So do we have the strength to help those in need? Do we have the strength to be truly great? 

Jesse Davis is a former Flyer staffer; he writes a monthly Books feature for Memphis Magazine. His opinions, such as they are, have never taken candy from a baby.

Categories
Opinion The Last Word

Just City at 10

Josh Spickler (Photo: Chip Chockley/Just City)

Ten years ago, things weren’t looking good.

A group of defense attorneys (including myself), business leaders, and community advocates found ourselves having the same discussions over and over again about our criminal justice system. Things were broken: Taxpayers were being asked to fund a system that was costing them more money every year, but public safety wasn’t improving and our economy was sputtering. These problems weren’t unique to Memphis, and they’re far from resolved today. The difference is that we decided to do something about them. Just City was born, not out of frustration, but out of conviction. We believed then — as we believe now — that a system that treats everyone fairly, decently, and humanely can keep us safe and make smart use of our tax dollars. A system like this isn’t built or maintained on its own, however — people have to demand it. Just City was one of the first voices making those demands. 

It’s easy to get discouraged by the amount of work that’s still ahead of us, particularly (waves hands at everything) these days. Still, I remind the Just City team as often as I can that there is an enormous amount of joy in this work. At its core, our work is about taking action so that everyone can live in a city that is free and safe, with less surveillance, less waste, and more humanity. What could be more joyful? So as we look to the future, here are 10 things we’ve accomplished so far with the community’s help. We’re grateful for each one and excited about what they mean for the future of this movement.

1. We helped end the jailing of kids in solitary confinement.

Keeping children in isolation isn’t tough love — it’s trauma. Just City worked with state and local lawmakers to change the so-called “safekeeping law” and bring an end to this barbaric practice.

2. We eliminated the expungement fee.  

We built a bipartisan alliance to eliminate the filing fee for clearing criminal records all across Tennessee. Thousands of people can now more easily move forward with their lives as a result.

3. We launched a bail fund (actually, we launched two).

We didn’t ask permission — we just paid bail for people who hadn’t been convicted of any crime to get them out of jail and return them to their families and jobs. The money comes back when people show up to court so we can help the next person. 

4. We launched a podcast. 

It’s called The Permanent Record, and it’s very good.

5. Our Court Watch volunteers showed up.

We’ve trained over 250 volunteers to sit in criminal courtrooms and take notes. Judges and prosecutors take notice when someone’s watching — especially when they see Just City Court Watchers with their notepads.

6. We filed a bunch of lawsuits. 

We sued the state of Tennessee for its wealth-based driver’s license suspensions. We sued Shelby County government for embarrassing IT failures that lost people and caused them to be locked up unlawfully. We sued the sheriff for ignoring vulnerable people during Covid. And we sued the county (again) for the way it implemented a clearly unconstitutional state law passed in response to changes to the bail system.

7. I got personally insulted by the mayor. 

Mayor Jim Strickland called me “the leading disseminator of false information” after I dared to criticize an ineffective — but extremely expensive — new law that he wanted.

8. And a state senator. 

State Senator Brent Taylor called me a “restorative justice schemer” on the floor of the legislature and in the press. I don’t know what that means either.

9. We built a movement.

What politicians don’t realize is that this work isn’t about me at all. It’s about thousands of people — volunteers, donors, partners, and neighbors — who believe that our criminal justice system should do more than punish indiscriminately. Every year for 10 years, we’ve drawn more support from more parts of our community, and we’re just getting started.

10. We planned a party, and you’re invited.

On Sunday, June 8th, we’re bringing Emmy-nominated comedian Roy Wood Jr. to Minglewood Hall. We’ve got Representative Justin J. Pearson, Kontji Anthony, DJ Cozmo, and a whole lot more. It’s called Stand Up With Just City and tickets are on sale now at justcity.org/standup.

Here’s to the next 10 years of justice and joy. Things are looking better all the time. 

Josh Spickler is the executive director of Just City.