Commentary

My neighbor Bernie has been leaving books on my stoop for at least 20 years. To say he’s thoughtful is to say that Lamar Jackson is athletic. Bernie hears a rumor about neighbors — that their kids play ice hockey, for instance — and, forget about it: You can expect old National Hockey League yearbooks and biographies of NHL stars on the stoop every couple of months, usually with a sticky note attached and an amusing quip written with a felt-tip pen.

Recently my daughter, Lisa, called from Texas where she moved last year when she got married. She and her new husband are hoping to start a family when she finishes grad school. “Mom, I’m worried about what’s happening in Texas. What if something goes wrong when I’m pregnant?” Lisa said. “I won’t be able to get help.” “Just come back to Pennsylvania,” I said. When problems crop up, moms double down, right?

I grew up with Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. I followed Ron and Hermione’s slow, but eventual, romantic relationship through the books. I pondered with Harry over which female classmate he would take to the dance, and I celebrated with him when he eventually found love with Ginny Weasley. Reading the Harry Potter novels and watching the movies, I shared in the characters’ experiences of growing up, yet I found my story diverging from theirs. I am gay, and they are not.

Last month, in a videotaped appearance for a “Pod Save America” live show, Stacey Abrams, a celebrated Democratic activist and the Democratic nominee for governor of Georgia, said Black men have the power to determine the election in that state. After explaining that some Black men chose not to vote because “often the leadership that gets elected is not reflective of their needs,” she said: “I know that if we have the kind of turnout possible among Black men, and they vote for me, I will win this election. That is why my campaign has been so focused on making sure we’re addressing those challenges.”

On the heels of last week’s column on the rise of youth carjackings in D.C. came a Labor Day news conference by Prince George’s County Executive Angela D. Alsobrooks (D), who drew a sharp focus on growing youth-involved crimes in her jurisdiction just outside D.C. Statistics provided by Alsobrooks and county Police Chief Malik Aziz tell the story: 438 juveniles arrested so far this year in Prince George’s, a big jump from 207 juvenile arrests through the same time last year. In D.C., youth arrests are up about 12 percent, with two-thirds of this year’s 330 carjacking arrests involving juveniles.

In response to an uptick in gun violence, Prince George’s County Executive Angela Alsobrooks last week announced a month-long enforcement of a longstanding curfew for children age 16 and younger. Early returns — one weekend’s worth anyway — appeared favorable as the D.C. suburban county reported just two shootings, neither fatal on Saturday and Sunday. As it happens, the move has proven trendy. The District of Columbia had already quietly resumed enforcing that city’s youth curfew as well with at least 16 young people picked up by police for violations since Aug. 1, according to The Washington Post. District officials aren’t claiming they’ve made inroads but recognized that with violent crime and youth arrests up this year, something needed to be done.

When Vladimir Putin launched a full-scale invasion of Ukraine by land, air and sea on Feb. 24, 2022, the images of war were conveyed to dismayed onlookers around the world. Far from the action, many of us became aware of the unprovoked aggression by reading online coverage or watching TV to see explosions and people running from danger and crowding into underground bunkers. Half a year later, the violence continues. But for those who have not been directly affected by the events, this ongoing war and its casualties have been shifting to the periphery of many people’s attention. This turning away makes sense.