#939 A Majority of One #🟦
Besides being the title of both a superb Broadway play that ran for 556 performances back in the late 1950s, and an even better motion picture that garnered 3 Golden Globes in 1962, A Majority of One, as a concept, doesn’t make a hell of a lot of sense. I mean, when you stop and think about it, isn’t a “majority of one” a rather clunky way of saying “unanimous?” It seems to be the living-breathing definition of an oxymoron. I mean, how can a single “yeah” or “nay” vote be a majority? Actually, there has long been one place where a single vote can defeat unanimity: the United States Senate.
Ever since 1846, the nation’s upper legislative chamber has operated under terms of what are called the "Unanimous Consent” agreements. As the senate website explains, these agreements "bring order and structure to floor business and expedite the course of legislation.” Anyone who watches CSPAN has repeatedly heard an individual senator begin the day’s work with the words "I ask unanimous consent that the Senate dispenses with the reading of the previous day’s minutes.” Then, the chair will silently count “One Mississippi, two Mississippi,” bang down the gavel and move on to the next item on the agenda . . . which may or may not call for a unanimous consent agreement. No minutes will be read, thus saving the body from wasting at least an hour-and-a-half of its supposedly precious time. 99.999% of the time, that’s the way things work. Rarely in its history has a single member of the United States Senate availed him/herself of right to hold up legislative action by being the sole individual to object to the unanimous consent agreement. This more often than not was done by a Southern member seeking to slow things to a deadly halt during the Civil Rights era.
Frighteningly, a new and utterly eerie form of “Unanimous Consent” has begun emerging in political society, wherein a single citizen objects to something going on in the state, county, or town that gets the powers that be to pay immediate heed. Two cases in point: both of which involve book banning in Florida, the state where I have resided (not truly lived) for the past 41 years.
The first involves Amanda Gorman, the 25-year old poet, Harvard graduate, the nation’s first “Youth Poet Laureate” and youngest person to ever read a poem at a presidential inaugural. That poem, The Hill We Climb, immediately went viral, thus marking her as a dazzling literary talent who, like Emily Dickenson, Walt Whitman, Robert Frost, Sylvia Plath as well as Thoreau, Sandberg and Emerson could easily become, in her time the American poet. What all these great poets had in common was an ear attuned to their own time and station, as well as being the quintessence of America. The two things they did not share with one another was that they were neither African American, nor visible to millions via YouTube.
Ms. Gorman composed the poem on short notice; she was invited to serve as inaugural poet in late December 2020. During such challenging times this was no small task. Gorman, as befitting a Harvard alumna, conducted preliminary research by reading the poems of previous inaugural poets (and talking to two of them, Richard Blanco and Elizabeth Alexander) and studying speeches of famous orators such as Frederick Douglass, Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King, Jr., and Winston Churchill. As reported by The New York Times, Gorman had completed about half of the poem when the January 6 events unfolded at the U.S. Capitol. The events spurred her to finish the poem late that night, with several new lines alluding to what had transpired.
Despite all her breath-taking talent, her having taken center-stage at both a presidential inauguration and the U.N, General Assembly, a single parent’s complaint about her inaugural poem resulted in her book containing that poem being pulled from the library shelf in a Miami-Dade County (Florida) school. The parent making the complaint (Daily Salinas) alleged that the book in which the poem was included, ". . . would cause confusion and indoctrinate children.” What precisely it might "indoctrinate” them into was never stated. The form Ms. Salinas filled out in her complaint/warning wasn’t even filled out properly: for one question, asking whether she has seen professional reviews of the materials, she replied, "I don't need it." She also claimed that the book was both written and published by Oprah Winfrey! (In reality, Ms. Winfrey wrote the forward). Nonetheless, the book was pulled from the library shelf at the Bob Graham Education Center, the school where her two children attend. Despite all the flaws in both Ms. Salinas’ thinking and paperwork, the book was put under a ban; neither the principal, school librarian nor many of the teachers wished to place their careers in jeopardy. And so, a majority of one had its way.
The second instance of a “majority of one” removing a book from a public school library shelf - by a single complainant - recently occurred when the Duval County (Jacksonville - the state’s largest city) Board of Education removed some 176 books from their libraries. The list of banned books includes stories of people who are Hispanic, LGBTQ, Asian, Muslim, Black and Native American, among others.
And by the way, there is one more group: Jews who observe Shabbat.
The censored book, Chik Chak Shabbat, by Mara Rockliff and Kyrsten Brooker has an intended audience of kids who are 7 years old and younger. (And from here, I owe a debt of extreme gratitude to my colleague Rabbi Jeffrey Salkin - a most enlightened scholar whose many online essays [Martini Judaism] are brilliant).
Chik Chak Shabbat is the tale of a woman named Goldie Simcha. Normally, she makes her famous cholent (stew) for the Jewish sabbath, but as the book opens, she is under the weather. Hence, the neighbors in her diverse apartment building find a way to help. The book is categorized by online booksellers as being appropriate for preschool through second grade.
What could possibly be wrong with a book about making a Jewish stew for Sabbath? (Cholent is a stew that observant Jews eat on Shabbat. It is a mixture of meat, beans, potatoes and anything non-dairy one might find in the fridge or a kitchen cabinet. You light the fire on the stove before Shabbat, so as not to violate the prohibition of starting a fire on the holy day, and then let it cook. It continues cooking, slowly, of its own free will throughout Shabbat.
Cholent is the bipolar opposite of fast food. You cannot do it chik chak, (Israeli slang for “in the wink of an eye”). I’m not sure what in the world the members of the Duval school board found to be SO damnably controversial about this book other than the fact that (a): the cholent was made by a bunch of diverse people all working together to help Goldie (nascent Communism?) and that (b), most of them - including Goldie - are immigrants . . . outsiders. Whatever it was that bothered the members of the school board (whether they had, in fact, read it or not), was enough to pull Chik Chak Shabbat off the school shelves. Another instance of a majority of one (in this case, one school board).
A Majority of One, written by Leonard Spigelglas, tells a gentle tale of a middle-aged Orthodox Jewish widow (played on Broadway by Gertrude Berg and in the film by Rosalind Russell) and a Japanese multi-millionaire industrialist who is a practicing Buddhist (played on stage by Sir Cedric Hardwicke and in the film by Sir Alec Guinness). The unlikely couple have two things in common: both widowed, and both lost children during WWII . . . her only son was killed while serving in the Pacific Theatre; his only daughter in the atomic bombing of Hiroshima. Despite their deep-seated cultural aversions, they manage to become friends - and more - through learning the lessons of tolerance, kindness, and forgiveness. Against all odds these vastly dissimilar people become “a majority of one.” A great - though nearly impossible - lesson for our present time of political, cultural and demographic insularity.
H.D. Thoreau (1817-1862)
The likely origin of “a majority of one” comes from a poet mentioned above: Henry David Thoreau. In his 1849 essay Civil Disobedience, Thoreau argued that citizens must disobey the rule of law when the law proves to be unjust. Thoreau drew on his own experiences and explained in his essay why he refused to pay taxes in protest of slavery and the Mexican War. Thoreau wrote that there are two laws: the laws of men and the higher laws of God and humanity. If the laws of men are unjust, then one has every right to disobey them. He is, of course, referring to an eternal, universal moral law, not one which is either temporal or purely political. The most telling line in the essay - and the one best remembered in light of this blog article reads: " . . . any man more right than his neighbors constitutes a majority of one already."
It should be noted that Thoreau’s “moral majority” has virtually nothing to do with that of the late Rev. Jerry Falwell; his “moral majority” was based not on universal principles, but rather a narrow view of American society as seen under the flawed microscope of fundamentalist, evangelical Christianity . . . for the sake of partisan political gain.
Banning books, making immigrants, refugees, members of the LGBTQ community and other “undesirables” the scapegoats of the present time is yet another form of a “majority of one.” In this case, the “one” is the “one way” to understand how society must be if it is to survive. And it matters not a fig if the vast majority disagree; the “majority of one” will always live, act and believe that they - and only they - have God on their side.
One of my all-time favorite British comedies is Are You Being Served? which ran on the BBC from 1972-1985. It dealt with the misadventures of the staff of a retail floor at “Grace Brothers” Department Store. Filled with stereotypic (at least for Brits) characters - the fey Mr. Humphries, sexy Miss Brahams, curmudgeonly Capt. Peacock and batty Mrs. Slocomb - the half-hour show was filled with hijinks, incomprehensible Cockney and more malaprops, double-entendres and catch-phrases than can be found in all the works of Sheridan, Shaw and Oscar Wilde. My favorite of all comes from the opinionated Mrs. Slocomb (Molly Sugden) who, whenever voicing her opinion, would conclude by saying "And I am unanimous in that!”
Sounds hauntingly like the cast and crew of MAGA . . .
Copyright©2023 Kurt F. Stone #🟦