Commentary

The horrors inflicted on the people of Ukraine in the Russian invasion include not only the deaths of loved ones, some of them children, but the loss of their homes, perhaps forever. Imagine the level of fear and stress that arises when you must suddenly pack a suitcase, grab your kids and flee your homeland. The United Nations warns that some 5 million people could leave Ukraine because of the invasion, creating the largest refugee crisis in Europe since World War II. Watching this mass trauma unfold, we wonder what we can do — beyond paying more for gasoline as a price for the sanctions against the Putin regime. We have some suggestions.

Why are we not producing here in America what is being consumed in America? It was obvious in early 2020 that COVID-19 presented demand side and supply side challenges. We boosted demand with stimulus checks and unemployment benefits. To meet that demand we relied on foreign producers and inadequate supply chains. This pushed up inflation. Two years after the pandemic, we still are not even talking about producing in America what we consume here. To reverse inflation, we need to restore US production in the industries of today and tomorrow. Consider, as an example of the possibilities, that it was the US that invented the semiconductor industry and dominated it for many years.

As the barriers placed before many of our Frederick County neighbors during the COVID-19 pandemic continue to shrink, our most vulnerable households are faced with a different story. For our neighbors in need, the barriers to financial stability have only grown. Throughout the pandemic, many working families were forced to visit food pantries for the first time, forgo vital healthcare appointments, or find alternative child care just to keep their household afloat. We recognize the toll these barriers have taken on our ALICE (Asset Limited, Income Constrained, Employed) households, those who struggle to afford a basic cost of living.

For two years our nation has demonstrated its ability to rally together for a common cause. The vast majority of Americans have worn masks and been vaccinated. The federal government has invested trillions of dollars in families, businesses, and communities to sustain the economy and provide life-saving medications and vaccines. Everyday heroes have worked on the front lines to keep us safe and healthy. Despite some shortcomings, our response to the COVID-19 pandemic has been a powerful display of our capacity to respond to a nationwide threat.

As the June 28 primaries get closer — unless they are pushed back, a distinct possibility — you can feel the tension rising among Democrats and Republicans in Annapolis and across the state. Both parties have a lot to worry about. There’s always plenty of tension at this stage of the legislative session: This is the time of year when bills are being killed right and left. But this year, there is an extra layer of fretting, as the fates of bills — and individual lawmakers’ votes on them — become linked in certain cases to the members’ electoral fortunes. That’s especially worrisome for the Democrats, as we’ll soon see.

I am an American who has lived my whole life in my beloved state of Maryland. I want to stay here and continue raising my children here, but legislators are making that difficult by refusing to take simple steps to eliminate a human rights abuse that nearly destroyed me: child marriage. I did not want to get married at 17. I wanted to finish high school and attend UCLA. I wanted choices in life and the power to make them. Even after I faked a suicide attempt in hopes that my guardians would realize I thought death would be better than being married off, I was flown to Pakistan, a country and people foreign to me, to marry. Within weeks, I was married off to a stranger and left there.

“You’re not pretty enough for the handcuffs.” Niaja hysterically cried as she recounted the days she spent locked in a john’s basement while I had been looking for her on the streets. At the time, Niaja was categorized as a sex worker who “wanted” to be selling her body. The raw truth is that Niaja was exhausted from “the life” and had been looking for a way out. As she describes it, “this preppy white girl” (me) quickly built trust with her on the street, and she was ready for a different life. My offer was simple. I committed to treat her like a human being, get her connected to substance use treatment, and I assured her that she didn’t have to do it alone.