Commentary

The 400,000-plus customers of Baltimore’s municipal water system — households that have paid higher and higher fees over the last 20 years for the delivery of tap water and the treatment of sewage — should be outraged over the repeated failures of the Back River Wastewater Treatment Plant, prompting the state to seize control of it. But, before I get into that stinking mess, a little perspective on the cost of stuff.

A few years ago, in another iteration, Maryland’s current Firearm Safety Storage Requirements and Youth Suicide Prevention bill — which is now stuck in the House Judicial Proceedings Committee — became known as “Jaelynn’s Law,” named after 16-year-old Jaelynn Willey. On March 20, 2018, Jaelynn’s former boyfriend, who had been stalking and harassing her for some time, brought his father’s 9 mm Glock handgun to Great Mills High School in St. Mary’s County. There, Austin Rollins shot Jaelynn in the head, and, later, himself.

In June of 2020, a woman in West Baltimore fired a gun at her domestic partner. She had assaulted the same partner three months earlier, was a convicted felon and had violated probation and home detention. Police found evidence that corroborated the shooting. Nevertheless, when the case came to court, the prosecutor offered, and the defendant accepted, a plea to probation for charges of misdemeanor assault and reckless endangerment.

Almost exactly a year ago, writer Katherine Dee, who blogs about internet culture and trend forecasting, predicted what she called a “coming wave of sex negativity.” Sex positivity, she suggested, had created new stigmas, including around discussing the harms of sex work and self-commodification. “People do not want to be atomized,” she wrote, adding, “Nobody wants this dystopia.” Not everything Ms. Dee foresaw — like a shift toward earlier childbearing among the upper-middle class — has come to pass, at least so far.

When people discuss why climate bills will be good for Maryland, you often hear about how these bills will help reduce energy consumption, better prepare us for sea-level rise and attract federal investments in a clean energy future. For one of the states most vulnerable to climate impacts, these are crucial benefits. But these are only part of the positive impacts that will be realized if we support climate solutions. As a nurse midwife who practiced for six years in Prince George’s County before becoming the executive director of the Alliance of Nurses for Healthy Environments, I’m on board because of the health benefits.

For seven years I’ve served as mayor of Salisbury — my hometown — a fast-growing, young and diverse city of 35,000 people, anchoring the Salisbury Metropolitan Area of 428,000 on the Delmarva Peninsula. In May 2021, I returned from a year-long deployment to East Africa. The call from Uncle Sam meant that I had to leave my city at a most critical time. I came home to numerous challenges. Some of them I anticipated: economic recovery, public health protection, racial justice and criminal justice reform.

Put yourself in the shoes of William Fields. You use a wheelchair. You rely on home care workers to assist you into and out of your wheelchair and to help you bathe, dress and cook. These workers allow you to live in your home; their work gives you the freedom to stay in your community, near your neighbors and places you know. But when the worker scheduled to provide you with care this week gets sick and calls out, and the home care agency can’t find a replacement, what can you do?

In early 2020, just before the start of the pandemic, I met a woman who said she practiced “aggressive friendship.” It takes a lot of her time, but she’s the person who regularly invites friends over to her house, who organizes events and outings with her friends. What a fantastic way to live. I thought of her while reading Robin Dunbar’s recent book, “Friends.” If the author’s name means something to you, it’s probably because of Mr. Dunbar’s number.