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Democracy

Trevor Noah shared the one question U.S. journalists should be asking themselves every day

"Ask yourself that question every day, because you have one of the most important roles in the world."

Trevor Noah has gotten high praise for his closing remarks at the White House Correspondents' Dinner.

Back in 2022, for the first time in six years, the annual White House Correspondents' Dinner (WHCD) was held with the president of the United States in attendance on April 30 in Washington, D.C. The WHCD has been a tradition in Washington for more than a century and for the past several decades it has taken the form of a comedic roast of both the government and the press. 2022's dinner was hosted by comedian and former host of "The Daily Show" Trevor Noah, who's known for his smart, witty commentary on social and political issues.

The "let's invite a comedian to publicly and viciously make fun of us for a couple of hours" idea may be a bit odd, but these events have proven quite popular over the years, with many viral moments (including President Obama's infamous GIF-worthy mic drop) coming from them.

The dinner opened with Noah joking about it being a superspreader event, earning some uncomfortable laughter, then the individual roasts commenced. Noah didn't hold back slamming people across the political and media spectrum—all in good fun, of course—including President Biden himself.


But it was Noah's closing remarks that earned the most attention. In his signature style, Noah managed to bring a serious and thoughtful element to a night of ribbing and laughter when he admonished the press to recognize both their freedom and their responsibility.

“If you ever begin to doubt your responsibilities, if you ever begin to doubt how meaningful it is, look no further than what’s happening in Ukraine," Noah said. "Look at what’s happening there. Journalists are risking and even losing their lives to show the world what is happening. You realize how amazing that is?

“In America, you have the right to seek the truth and speak the truth, even if it makes people in power uncomfortable. Even if it makes your viewers or readers uncomfortable. You understand how amazing that is?" he reiterated.

Noah pointed out that he had just stood there and made fun of the president of the United States and he was going to be fine. Then he contrasted that with the reality Russian journalists are living under Putin.

“Ask yourself this question," he said to the members of the media. "If Russian journalists who are losing their livelihoods … and their freedom for daring to report on what their own government is doing—If they had the freedom to write any words, to show any stories, or to ask any questions—if they had, basically, what you have—would they be using it in the same way that you do?

"Ask yourself that question every day," he said, "because you have one of the most important roles in the world."

Watch:

People had high praise for Noah's entire evening of hosting, but especially for his closing remarks. Russia's war on Ukraine has put a spotlight on many things we tend to take for granted, including the freedom of the press.

Journalists do play a vital role in society and it's one they must take seriously. To be fair, most journalists do feel the weight of their responsibility, but the corporatization of news media and a 24/7 news cycle has created a competitive landscape in which coverage is sometimes determined by what will drive traffic or viewers rather than on what's truly newsworthy or important. The demonization of news outlets by some has also created a hostile media environment, and news organizations have to resist the urge to kowtow to the loudest voices or inadvertently amplify the wrong things. Journalists often have to fight for the truth on multiple fronts, sometimes inside their own newsrooms.

Thank you, Trevor Noah, for reminding reporters that the fight is worth it and for using this opportunity to remind the press of its primary purpose with such a simple yet profound question.

President Biden's first address to Congress on Wednesday night covered a number of topics: COVID-19, the war in Afghanistan, climate change, healthcare, taxes and more. But it was a personal comment to America's transgender community that might have been the most powerful moment of the night.

Transgender Americans continue to be one of the most openly discriminated against communities in America. Since Biden's election, a number of states have proposed bills that would restrict the rights of transgender citizens, including children.

Some leaders have bravely stood up for the rights of our most vulnerable citizens. For example, North Dakota's Republican Gov. Doug Burgum recently vetoed a bill that would have banned trans girls from competing in sports.

"To all the transgender Americans watching at home, especially the young people who are so brave, I want you to know that your president has your back," Biden told Congress in his call for passage of the Equality Act.



Biden's calm and caring words to the trans community were immediately celebrated online.




Biden has promised to make passage of the Equality Act a priority during his first 100 days in office, something he failed to achieved and which has generated criticism from trans activists. However, tonight's address may restore some hope that action is imminent. Along with Biden's call for action, First Lady Jill Biden used her VIP guest list to include Stella Keating, a 16-year-old that President Biden had speak before Congress in support of the Equality Act's passage.


Election 2020 is turning out to be just as batsh*t crazy as 2020 itself, which of course isn't surprising, but certainly is annoying.

Due to Trump's baseless claims that the election is rigged against him and that if only legal votes were counted he'd be winning, states and counties that have spent years honing their elections to make them as secure as possible, that rallied to adjust their systems to accommodate the needs of voters in a global pandemic, and that have managed to pull off hundreds upon hundreds of elections without widespread fraud now have to battle a president publicly attacking the integrity of our entire electoral process.

Good times, America.

No one disagrees that elections should be run fairly. No one disagrees that ballots should be cast within legal boundaries. No one disagrees that every legally cast vote should be counted. No one disagrees that ballot counting should be overseen by representatives of both parties and that poll watchers should raise concerns if they see something questionable in the vote tallying process.

And that has been happening in ballot counting centers across the nation. Unfortunately, so has some ridiculous tomfoolery from the Trump camp.

Julie Moroney is a law student who answered the call for non-partisan poll watchers in Detroit, Michigan, and she shared on Twitter what she experienced as she watched Wayne county ballots being counted.



Moroney wrote:

"I was at the TCF Center in Detroit yesterday as a non-partisan poll challenger. The woman in the maroon shirt with the black mask was one of the GOP challengers I monitored. At one point, she yelled that a ballot needed to be thrown out because it 'looked sticky.' Another time she demanded that the poll workers stop what they were doing and backup all computers in case of power outage or tornado(?). Just baseless, bad faith challenges to slow the process.

And after Trump filed his lawsuit and MI was called for Biden, the GOP strategy shifted to challenge every single ballot. I know this because I overheard their organizers pass on the new message. They didn't even pretend to have a reason for doing so, just repeated 'I challenge this ballot; I challenge that ballot' over and over again as the poll workers tried to count.

At one point, my good friend and law school classmate @sumnertruax looked over at me and said 'this is not how democracy is supposed to work.' It was so true, and so sad. The optics of it all weren't lost on me either. Picture a huge space filled with predominantly Black poll workers just trying to do their gd jobs while white MI GOP challengers hovered over them, yelling at them that they're wrong, doing a bad job, or committing crimes.

The harassment and intimidation — both from the GOP challengers in the room and the GOP supporters banging on the windows trying to get in — is seared onto my brain. Security guards had to escort us out a side entrance so we could leave the building safely.

One of the most jarring things was stepping outside of the building and seeing the sun set across the river in Canada. The juxtaposition of exiting the epicenter of 'American democracy' that felt more like mob rule and seeing the Canadian flag gently flap in the wind a mile away, An example of a functioning democracy...the irony was painful.

I left exhausted, but mostly just sad. I love America, but some of you make it so hard.

How did we get to a place where you challenge other people's ballots simply because you believe they voted for the other guy? How did we get to a place where you file a lawsuit claiming lack of access, when you have 100+ challengers in there fucking shit up? How did we get to a place where you're so deep into conspiracy theories that you claim ballots are coming out of thin air when you are there, witnessing the process, and doing everything in your power to impede it?

Go home. And let the incredible, hard-working and honest poll workers #CountEveryVote."

Poll workers are seriously patriotic heroes right now. What is usually a tedious-but-necessary job has suddenly become a target for quacks and fanatics who simply can't believe that the most unpopular president since Gerald Ford could possibly fail to be reelected in a fair election. Why? Because Trump says so. It's really that simple.

Nevermind the fact that if Democrats were really rigging the election, there's no way on earth Mitch McConnell and Lindsey Graham would still have their seats. Nevermind the fact that Republicans won races in every one of the swing states where Trump is trying to raise doubts, with the same ballots used to vote for or against him. Nevermind the fact that Trump is a malignant narcissist who literally cannot admit to losing, no matter how clear the outcome of the election.

No one disagrees that legitimate concerns about ballots and votes should be investigated—when there is evidence. Yes, there are occasional irregularities in every single election, and those should be looked into. But you can't just stand behind the presidential podium and claim the election is rigged or fraudulent or stolen because you're losing or because the electoral system that has successfully elected 45—soon to be 46—presidents isn't being run exactly the way you want it to be.

As Moroney's fellow poll watcher said, "This isn't how democracy is supposed to work." Indeed, it is not. And the fact that the dysfunction is coming from the president himself is the saddest thing of all.

Adrian Bacolo (bacolosphotos.com)

The classrooms were empty.

Never did I expect to see my former high school, in Delaware, as the site of the Democratic National Convention on TV, but there it was. There was my study hall and my study hall teacher, who also happens to be the former second lady.

When I graduated college in Delaware, I hightailed it out of there, like most people my age. I had big dreams in New York. I wanted to be a writer.

That summer, my father was killed by a distracted driver. She'd gotten lost and pulled off a highway, picking up her phone at a red light to call for directions. She zoomed right through the next red and plowed into my dad, who was turning left. He died instantly. Or so I was told. I was 25, and decided to keep going. I inherited a small insurance settlement. I used it to stay in New York. It was how my dad would have wanted it, I thought.

Now, seventeen years later, those dreams had come true. I'd been published in national magazines and newspapers in addition to copyediting national magazines. But I still wasn't fulfilled. No amount of career success could erase what had happened. I was still working on making it right.



"After our son Beau died of cancer, I wondered if I would ever smile or feel joy again," the blond woman in the green shirtdress, Dr. Jill Biden, said on television. "It was summer, but there was no warmth left for me. Four days after Beau's funeral, I watched Joe shave and put on his suit. I saw him steel himself in the mirror, take a breath, put his shoulders back and walk out into a world empty of our son. He went back to work. That's just who he is. There are times when I couldn't even imagine how he did it. How he put one foot in front of the other and kept going. But I've always understood why he did it…he does it for you. Joe's purpose has always driven him forward. His strength of will is unstoppable, and his faith is unshakable. Because it's not in politicians or political parties or even in himself — it's in the providence of God."


WATCH: Jill Biden's full speech at the 2020 Democratic National Convention | 2020 DNC Night 2www.youtube.com


A week after Donald Trump was elected president in 2016, my life took an unexpected turn, too.

My brother had just moved into his first condo. My husband and I drove the four hours up to Salem, Massachusetts, to see him. Once there, my brother and future sister-in-law revealed a treasure they'd discovered in their move: our father's bucket list.

"Talk with the President." "Correspond with the Pope." "Surf in the Pacific." It was the kind of thing you find and chuckle over. His indecipherable handwriting, the wild things this man from Delaware wanted to do. But I didn't just laugh. I felt a pull to action. My husband felt it too.

"You have to finish this list," he said. "And then write a book about it."

I'd been an activist for three years, twisting my work as a journalist into a platform. But I hadn't found the right medium. And the numbers of car fatalities kept going up.

"The burdens we carry are heavy, and we need someone with strong shoulders," Dr. Biden continued. "I know that if we entrust this nation to Joe, he will do for your family what he did for ours. Bring us together and make us whole, carry us forward in our time of need, keep the promise of America for all of us."

It's not easy. Moving on, trying to make sense of unimaginable tragedy.

I've understood what families have gone through the past six months. I know the pain of getting a phone call to learn your father has died. There is a helplessness. An anger.

My dad never would have wanted me to talk about his death my whole life. My dad was hopeful, joyful, a storyteller. He would have wanted a better story.

"Be invited to a political convention" was item 53 on my dad's bucket list. After "talk with the President," it struck me as the least feasible. But in August 2019, I gave it a go. By then I'd checked off 27 of my dad's dreams.

First I wrote to every Democratic candidate. Then I wrote to every college alum who worked for the press, to every TV show who'd interviewed me. Finally, I tried a University of Delaware alum who worked at the local paper. He said he had no connection to Biden, but could put me in touch with the Delaware Democratic state party.

The Delaware Democratic chairman was kind. He said if I was a registered Democrat, I could attend their next convention.

That sounded like an invitation to me.

I walked out of the New York skyscraper where I worked and just before I reached the subway stopped and cried. Of all the conventions I could have ended up going to, I'd never imagined one in my home state. The place I'd wanted nothing to do with 20 years ago. But it was exactly where my dad would have gone, had he checked this off himself.

A few months later, a story about my mission to finish my dad's list was published in my college's alumni magazine. It was to come out that spring.



But by then, the whole world had fallen apart.

My husband came home from work early on a Wednesday in March. "I'm not going back," he said. "We have to work from home indefinitely."

We jumped in the car and drove to Whole Foods to stock up. I texted everyone I knew, asking them how they were handling this craziness. I got no response.

The pandemic hadn't hit them yet.

"We just need leadership worthy of our nation," Dr. Biden said. "Worthy of you. Honest leadership to bring us back together, to recover from this pandemic and prepare for whatever else is next. Leadership to reimagine what our nation will be."

In the next few weeks, I decided I wanted more than just an invite to a state convention. And so as the country shut down, I collected signatures to become a national delegate. I had to do it digitally because my state was sheltering in place. I attached a photo of myself in a tuxedo (another list item, "own a black tux"). I asked my neighbors to put down whatever they were doing and please sign my list. But then the governor waived the need for signatures.


A councilwoman in my town emailed me. She said she could get me in. She shared my story with a friend who shared it with another friend and next thing I knew, the Joe Biden campaign was hearing about me.

Weeks went by. My University of Delaware magazine article came out. They'd put me on the cover. People said my story gave them hope during an uncertain time. But I felt lost. Yes, my story was one of hope, but hope in a more simple time. Not hope during a time of 170,000 deaths, 5 million Americans ill and millions out of work in only five months!


My husband and I couldn't even leave our house. I couldn't see anyone I loved. How on earth could my words still make a difference?

"How do you make a broken family whole?" Dr. Biden said. "The same way you make a nation whole: with love and understanding and with small acts of kindness. With bravery, with unwavering faith. We show up for each other in big ways and small ones again and again."

The sacrifices I've seen people make for my dad's bucket list have been countless. It has changed my marriage for the better, thanks to my husband's contributions. Every sibling, cousin, aunt and uncle has chipped in, as have my mom and stepdad and every friend. Every person I know has somehow turned out to be an expert on some list item. They've given me their time for free. Even strangers.

I'm richer in love because of this project, I have friends I never would have known. And they tell me they're richer too.

In June I learned Biden had chosen his NJ delegates for the national convention, and I wasn't one of them.

But by July I felt better about not receiving an invite. Because now, thanks to the pandemic, nobody would. The convention would be virtual, in an effort to protect people's lives.

Then it was announced that even Biden wouldn't travel to Milwaukee. He'd accept the nomination right there in Delaware.

The same state I'd already been invited to for the Delaware state convention. My mom texted me an hour before the second night of the DNC.

"Jill Biden is speaking from her classroom at Brandywine High School, Room 232."

"What?" I said. "I've been in that room!"

How is it possible? I thought. I've been denied an invitation back to my own high school!

But then I suddenly knew. It was because I was too busy trying to be important to remember who I really am.

"Now, Joe is not perfect," former First Lady Michelle Obama said in her DNC speech. "And he'd be the first to tell you that. But there is no perfect candidate, no perfect president. And his ability to learn and grow—we find in that the kind of humility and maturity that so many of us yearn for right now. Because Joe Biden has served this nation his entire life without ever losing sight of who he is; but more than that, he has never lost sight of who we are, all of us.

Here she was, Dr. Jill Biden, this beautiful stateswoman, addressing our nation in a hopeless time, during the most important election of our lifetimes—from my high school. From little Delaware.

From a place that maybe wasn't so little after all.

Maybe I didn't have to make my voice seem big to be heard. Instead of spending the evening in a crowded arena, I spent it on my couch at home, cheering with my mom over the phone when we saw my old stomping grounds on TV.

And hers were the only ears I needed. The only invitation I could want.

A night with my mom at the national convention. And I know my dad was there, too.

Probably laughing at me.


Laura Carney is a writer and magazine and book copy editor in New York and is writing a book about finishing the bucket list of her late father, who was killed by a distracted driver