Commentary

Last summer as the COVID-19 pandemic worsened and the economic outlook for Maryland darkened, one of the first items on the chopping block to keep state government’s budget balanced was higher education. From community colleges to the University System of Maryland, nearly half of the first round of the initial $413 million in budget cuts approved by the state’s Board of Public Works was to post-secondary schools. It was a tough time for colleges as many recognized that their students faced economic hardships as well and froze tuition.

“So hope for a great sea-change on the far side of revenge,” goes a verse by Irish poet Seamus Heaney. “Believe that a further shore is reachable from here. Believe in miracles and cures and healing wells.” With empathy having been declared the hallmark of the Joe Biden time in America — the new president asking us to heal, fix what’s broken and look to the future — I find it difficult, in the moment, to ask too many questions about the past.

In the first hour of “Genius: Aretha,” an eight-part dramatization on the life of singer Aretha Franklin, there’s a scene set in 1967 in the legendary Fame recording studios at Muscle Shoals, Alabama. Franklin is at the piano trying to establish musical rapport with a group of white sidemen she has never met, brought in by celebrated R&B producer Jerry Wexler. Things are not going well. And then after yet another blown take and a whispered admonition from Wexler to be herself, Franklin starts playing on the piano gospel chords remembered from her Sundays as a little girl singing in the Detroit church of her father the Rev. C.L. Franklin.

This has been one of the most quietly consequential weeks in recent American politics. The COVID-19 relief law that was just enacted is one of the most important pieces of legislation of our lifetimes. As Eric Levitz writes in New York magazine, the poorest fifth of households will see their income rise by 20%; a family of four with one working and one unemployed parent will receive $12,460 in benefits. Child poverty will be cut in half.

The headquarters of the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency is located on Pennsylvania Avenue just blocks from the White House and a pleasant midday stroll to the Potomac River, the second largest tributary of the Chesapeake Bay. Michael S. Regan ought to go check out the view. The EPA’s new administrator, handily confirmed by the U.S. Senate on Wednesday by a 66-34 vote, could scarcely find a better first-year project to tackle than cleaning up the nation’s largest estuary.

Vaccine hesitancy among Black Marylanders has plummeted. Sixty percent of Black residents say they will either get a COVID-19 vaccine as soon as they can or indicate they’ve already received at least one dose, according to the most recent Goucher College Poll. That’s the same percentage who said they would not get such a vaccine just five months ago. The causes and public health implications of this dramatic shift are worth considering, as are some potential blind spots of the data. For starters, the drop in hesitancy didn’t just happen, nor can it just be explained simply by the availability of the vaccine.

The cost to replace a water main can run thousands of dollars per foot. Heck, a single backhoe to dig out a faulty drainage pipe might be $75,000, not including the operator’s pay. But all that pales compared to the expense of eliminating sewage overflows from Baltimore’s Back River Wastewater Treatment Plant: The ongoing, court-supervised Headworks Project carries a price tag of $430 million at last check. So, if there’s one thing Baltimore needs desperately, it’s a highly qualified person supervising these concerns. Too much is at stake to consider any other strategy. We need a Tom Brady to quarterback the team.