Author: Stephanie Jones

Happy Founders Day to the brothers of Kappa Alpha Psi, from the daughter and granddaughter of proud Kappa men.

My grandfather Lorenz Graham was a founding member of the Kappa Alpha Psi UCLA chapter where he pledged in 1924. Pop Pop loved to point out that every Kappa pledge at UCLA must know his name as a charter member before they can cross over.

The Good Judge pledged Kappa in 1949 at Youngstown State University and remained a true and loyal Kappa Man for the next 70 years. Being a Kappa was one of the great joys of Daddy’s life and receiving the Laurel Wreath, the Kappa’s highest honor, meant everything to him.

Their membership in the Kappas intertwined with and enriched my grandfather’s and father’s lives in countless ways and, to a considerable degree, helped to shape and define the remarkable men they became.

The paths of these two Kappa men crossed and then forever merged when, on a trip to Los Angeles to attend the 1957 Kappa Conclave, Daddy’s blind date was Jean Graham, Lorenz’s daughter.

When Jean told her father about her new beau, Pop-Pop was unimpressed. “A lawyer? Meh. Colored lawyers don’t make any money.”

But when she told him Daddy was also a Kappa, Pop-Pop changed his mind.

“The only reason I let Jeanie marry your father was that he was a Kappa man, so I knew he was worthy of her” he teased. Daddy corroborated the story, often reminding me that I owed my very existence to the Kappas.

Throughout the next decades, Daddy took enormous pleasure in being a Kappa, insisting that Kappa Alpha Psi was the only true fraternity – that the other Greek organizations were really just “clubs for young men who wish they could be Kappas but couldn’t make the grade.”

And whenever anyone made the grievous error of assuming he was any other Greek, he’d scoff and correct them: “No, I’m a FRATERNITY MAN.”

Occasionally, when he was feeling extra Kappa-ish, he was known to belt out Kappa songs at the dinner table.

“Oh, you must be a Kappa Alpha Psi, if you want to go to heaven when you die!” he’d warble as we all rolled our eyes.

When Daddy died two years ago this month, the local Kappa chapter asked to conduct a Chapter Invisible Ceremony at his visitation and, of course, I agreed.

I expected a short and sweet tribute from a few of the brothers from the local chapter, so I was flabbergasted as I watched them enter the church, stream down the aisle and gather around Daddy’s casket. They just kept coming. More and more and more. Young and old. I thought the procession would never stop. When they finally were in place, the entire front of the church was a sea of Kappa red jackets.

As the brothers sang and said the prayers that are part of the Kappa sunset ceremony, I was moved beyond words and expectation. I felt such peace and comfort in this heart-wrenchingly perfect moment because I knew how much my Daddy loved being a Kappa and this loving farewell from his Kappa brothers was exactly the sendoff he would have wanted.

Daddy often said he’d be a Kappa Man until the day he died. But that wasn’t quite true. He’ll be a Kappa Man for eternity.

So I wish a Happy Founders Day to the brothers of Kappa Alpha Psi, in memory of my father and grandfather. and thank you for being such an important part of my family’s life.

• 

• 

Dear Betty –

I wish I had written this note to you when you were walking around on earth, even if I wasn’t sure you’d ever see it. But now that you know the secret, I’m pretty confident you can also see/hear this story …

When I was little, my parents had no idea how to deal with my thick, naturally coarse hair, so my mother sent me to the neighborhood beauty parlor every two weeks and let B.J. handle it.

In those days, beauticians didn’t often style little girls’ hair, so I got the same treatment the adult women got: a scalp-searing permanent relaxer, followed by a brush roller set with curlers that cut further into that already-seared scalp, eight or nine hours under a 500 degree hair dryer (my tiny frame propped up on phone books so my whole head could fit into the head furnace while I read racy gossip and true crime magazines never available at home), topped off by a lot of teasing with a rat tail comb and a gag-inducing dousing of lacquer hair spray to achieve a shiny and glorious bouffant.

On my first visit, when B.J. turned my chair around to face the mirror for the great reveal (which wasn’t much of a reveal since he pretty much only did one hairstyle on all his customers), I carefully perused my reflection and proclaimed, “I look like Betty White!”

I didn’t understand why everyone in the shop, including B.J. and my mother, practically fell on the floor laughing since the reflection staring back at me DID look just like you, only smaller and browner.

And I was delighted!

Thereafter, whenever B.J. asked “what are we doing today?” Mommy responded “Her Betty White hairdo, of course.”

I’m pretty sure you would have thought it was a hoot that, back in the day, a 6-year-old Black girl was walking around Youngstown Ohio, as big as you please, proudly sporting your coif.

It never occurred to me to tell you this story, but now that I have, I hope it makes you smile or even gives you a chuckle.

And if it does, think of it as a heartfelt thank you for all of the smiles and laughs and joy you gave to the world, from the little girl with the Betty White hairdo.

Earlier today, I made a comment about 2021 sucking and my sister reminded me that lots of good things happened for us this year, including the fact that we got to see each other frequently and even took several trips together.

That made me stop and think about things and I realized that, while 2021 has been very challenging for many, including me, and for our nation as a whole, I have been inordinately fortunate and that, for me, 2021 was actually a pretty good year.

Just off the top of my head, I came up with quite a few reasons to be grateful this last day of the year:

I got through the first full year of living without my father on this earth and I’m ok.

I didn’t get COVID and neither did anyone in my close family.

I got vaccinated … Three times.

Trump left office.

Joe Biden and Kamala Harris become president and vice president.

I took three trips with my sister: to California to spend time with family, to Italy – my first visit to my beloved happy place in nearly three years – and to Las Vegas with our brother and his wife to see Lionel Richie .

I was able to visit the doctor and dentist whenever I needed to.

I cut the cord and finally got rid of cable.

My dogs are healthy and still love me.

I painted several paintings I’m proud of and that show I’m learning and growing as an artist.

I drank lots and lots of bubble tea.

I Zoomed with my girl cousins almost every Friday.

I spent quality time with all of my surviving aunts and uncle.

My sweet aunt smiled at me the last time I saw her three months before she died.

I bought an awesome car.

I had a really nice Christmas surrounded by family with no pressure or stress.

I finally finished redoing my basement.

I am financially secure.

I am safe.

I am healthy

I have family and friends I love unconditionally and to whom I say “I love you” regularly

I am loved.

I am grateful.

Not bad for a year I’ve been thinking really sucked. It really wasn’t as awful as I thought.

Goodbye 2021 and thank you.

There are many reasons it’s constitutional to convict an impeached former president. Here’s the simplest and strongest one:

Some Republicans, having run out of other excuses, have trying to hide behind one last desperate measure to avoid holding Trump accountable: claiming it’s unconstitutional to conduct impeachment proceedings over a former president.

Numerous esteemed legal scholars have knocked down this excuse on several grounds, including that nothing in the text of the Constitution bars Congress from impeaching, convicting and disqualifying former officials from holding future office, and that such a standard would signal to future presidents that they are impervious to consequences for any action they take during a lame-duck period,.

Those are strong and compelling arguments. But there’s an even stronger and simpler one: Because the Founding Fathers said so.

Article II, Section 4 of the Constitution provides that a sitting president shall be removed from office upon conviction by the Senate. If a president is convicted, removal is automatic, instantaneous, non-optional, and requires no additional action by the Senate. They’re convicted, they’re gone, period. For all intents and purposes, conviction of a sitting president is indistinguishable from removal – they are one and the same.

Aside from removal, the only other penalty the Constitution allows the Senate to impose is disqualification from ever again holding federal office. This penalty is levied by taking a second vote; if a majority of Senators agrees, the former president is disqualified.

Read what I just wrote: “the FORMER president is disqualified” …

And that’s it right there in a nutshell. This second vote for disqualification is taken AFTER the vote on conviction and removal. This means that, at the time the second vote on disqualification is taken, the impeached president is no longer president. Therefore, the Senate is voting to penalize a FORMER president.

Why does that matter? Because it is proof positive that the Founding Fathers granted Congress the right to retain its jurisdiction over a former president even after he leaves office and that the fact that he is no longer in office does not revoke jurisdiction or halt impeachment proceedings begun when he was still president.

Conservative Republicans are quick to insist that we must look to the Founders’ “original intent” when interpreting the Constitution. In this case, the Founders’ original intent is right there in plain English.

So, while there are many reasons that the Republicans’ argument against trying and convicting Donald Trump post-presidency fails, the simplest one is “Because the Founders said so.”

Over the past few years, many of my friends, even those (and often especially) those who considered themselves “woke,” cautioned me not to be so hard on their Trump supporting friends and family insisting that they aren’t really racist or worthy of contempt, but just misguided or ignorant and, aside from their Trump-humping, are “really sweet people.”

I reminded them that good people don’t join forces with evil, that enabling a hateful white supremacist and being good people are incompatible traits, only to be met with admonitions to be more open-minded and patient with them. They just couldn’t seem to understand or respect that racism is or should be a deal-breaker and a desire for unity never justifies tolerating intolerance.

But in the past few days, after watching those “good people” turn into a vicious, bloodthirsty lynch mob, many of those folks have changed their tunes.

I appreciate and share my friends’ pain and anger. But I also urge them to consider why supporting a president who provokes a riot is a bridge too far, but supporting a president who foments racism and hate isn’t?

And I ask them now, do you finally understand what Black and Brown people have been trying to tell you? Do you finally feel – or at least empathize with – the pain we’ve been feeling?

Can and will you, in the future, take us more seriously and stand with us when we say, ‘NO! I will NOT make nice with these people!” even if joining us in calling these people out might make your next neighborhood get-together, family dinner, or Facebook exchange of cute baby and animal pictures uncomfortable for you?

Because if you do, that means you are really waking up and are a true ally. But if you’re willing to draw the line at riots but not at racism, you might need to reconsider whether you’re really the kind of person you think you are.

Dear Republicans:

Stop acting surprised that the national nightmare you’ve supported and enabled for the last five years, in one of his final acts as president, sent a lynch mob to the U.S Capitol to try to take down the government in his name. You are responsible for this.

Yes, yes, I know. You didn’t agree with everything he did or said. (Or as you so often said when confronted with his latest racist diatribe: YOU wouldn’t have worded it that way – which always made me wonder, how exactly WOULD you word blatant racism?).

And yes, we all know that you supposedly felt – or at least claimed to feel – an obligation to support him because, after all, he WAS the leader of your party. And you DID like his policies – tax cuts, right wing judges, less regulation, blah blah blah. So what’s a little racism, xenophobia, calls for violence, child abuse if they let you get the goodies you want, right?

But let’s be clear and let’s be frank. If you are still making these excuses, you are full of it.

First. You didn’t support Donald Trump because he shares your political philosophy. Donald Trump doesn’t HAVE a political philosophy. He’s not a conservative and he is not a Republican. Donald Trump has only two life purposes and they are all consuming: 1) spreading his hatred and racism ; and 2) feeding his insatiable malignant narcissism. That’s it. Period. Everything else is BS. And anyone with half a brain knows it. And since you’re not stupid, you surely know it, too.

And you can be sure that if Trump for one second thought that the Democratic Left would satisfy those two desperate needs of his, he would abandon the Republican Party in a minute, declare himself a liberal and register as a Democrat without another thought.

And here’s another thing Republicans who got themselves wrapped around Trump’s axle still don’t seem to understand – or at least you still refuse to admit. You think you were just using him to get what you want, but somewhere along the way, he unexpectedly morphed into a monster and, try as you might, you lost control of him. You claim you tolerated his bigotry and crassness and lies and cruelty and criminality because he gave you right wing judges and tax cuts and less regulation. And he wasn’t Hillary.

But it was the other way around. You didn’t lose control of him, because you never had control of him in the first place. He had you at “birtherism” and you happily went right along for the ride over that cliff.

Trump used you and you let him.  He didn’t give a damn about your tax cuts and judges. He only cared about getting what he wanted and you eagerly gave it to him, long after it should have been clear what and who he is. You didn’t unknowingly create a monster. You willingly and knowingly opened the front door and let a full-blown monster into our home. And last week that creature spewed out his rabid, foaming spawn into the sacred halls of the center of our democracy, looking for blood and finding it.

You didn’t create this creature – he was a fully-formed monster when you let him in. But he does belong to you and so does the mess he created. And it’s long past time you stop ducking responsibility, making excuses, and pretending you had no idea it would come to this. It came to this the first time you looked the other way and turned a blind eye to Donald Trump’s evil because you thought there was something in it for you.

I notice that when I meet Democrats/Biden supporters and talk with them about politics, government and current affairs, they are almost always well-informed, knowledgeable, thoughtful, and gather information from many different sources – this cuts across all income and educational levels. Even when we disagree, it is clear that they pay attention, discern reality from fiction, think through their positions, and are willing to consider facts and change their minds when those facts warrant.

But when I talk to Trump supporters, they are almost always poorly informed, unengaged and prone to believing and repeating falsehoods they saw, read or heard on FOX News and right-wing (and often racist) websites – and not only don’t they mind, they are usually proud of it. The more ardent their support for Trump, the more impervious to facts and logic they seem to be – or maybe it’s the other way around.

I don’t think these people are necessarily stupid – many of them are quite intelligent and some are very well-educated. But they are definitely being lied to and misled by demagogues who feed their fears, trigger their anger and frustration, and foster their ignorance. And they seem to take great pride in supporting a president who appeals to their worst instincts.

Trump supporters frequently express resentment that the media and liberals assume they’re bigoted and dumb. Yet they’re eager to go all in to support a man who not only believes they are both racist and stupid, but whose entire political future depends on them proving him right.

A few years ago, my father, Nathaniel R. Jones, aka “The Good Judge,” came to DC with two of his colleagues, John Pepper and Michael Cioffi, for a meeting with Vice President Joe Biden. I don’t recall what the meeting was about, but they were to meet at Biden’s residence at the Naval Observatory in northwest DC.

That afternoon, The Good Judge called me from the airport as they were about to head back to Cincinnati. I asked him how the meeting went. “It was fine,” he said. “I have to go. They’re closing the door. I’ll talk to you tonight.” When we talked later that evening, he didn’t say any more about the meeting.

That afternoon, The Good Judge called me from the airport as they were about to head back to Cincinnati. I asked him how the meeting went. “It was fine,” he said. “I have to go. They’re closing the door. I’ll talk to you tonight.” When we talked later that evening, he didn’t say any more about the meeting.

About a month later, I was in his office and saw a new photo on the shelf – The Good Judge, Michael and John, standing next to a limousine in front of the entrance to the West Wing.

“Daddy – When was this picture taken?”

“Last month”

“You went to the White House last month?”

“Yes. That was the day we met with Biden.”

“But didn’t you meet with him at the Naval Observatory?”

“Yes. But then he gave us a ride to the White House.”

Huh?

And he told me the story …

After their meeting, The Good Judge, John and Michael prepared to head back to the airport. The Vice President asked them how they were getting there. “We’ll get a cab.”

“It’ll take you forever to get a cab around here this time of day,” the Vice President scoffed. “I’m on my way to work. I’ll give you a ride and you can get a cab from the White House.”

So, they went outside to where the Vice President’s motorcade was lined up. Assuming they’d ride in one of the vans, The Good Judge headed toward the back of the lineup.

“Hey, Judge!” Biden called out. “You guys hop in with me.”

With that, The Good Judge and his companions climbed into the vice presidential limo with Biden and off they went, zooming down Connecticut Avenue, zipping through red lights, police cars and motorcycles with lights and sirens at full blast.

Biden chatted away happily like it was no big deal, as if he were driving some friends to the store in the family sedan. Every now and then, he waved at people on the street, but he stayed focused on the conversation in the car.

A few minutes later, the caravan was whisked through the White House gates and stopped in front of the entrance to the West Wing across from the Executive Office Building. Biden apologized for leaving them: “I gotta run to a meeting – but you should be able to get a cab on 17th with no problem.”

With that, the Vice President said goodbye, sprinted out of the limo, trotted toward the White House and disappeared into the building.

The Good Judge turned to Michael and John and said, “No one is going to believe this.” They all shook their heads, laughing for a few seconds, and then got out of the limo, headed out the gates to 17th Street where, just as Biden had promised, they easily caught a cab to the airport.

But first, they posed for this picture in the driveway outside of the West Wing to prove this all really did happen.

I’ve always loved this story as yet another example of the improbable, wonderful life Lillian Rafe’s keen-eyed son led – and how he never made a big deal about it.

But this story also says an awful lot about our nominee and (please please please) next President of the United States, a man who is so quick to say, “C’mon guys. Let me make it easier for you to get where you’re going. Ride with me.”

When I was a young lawyer in a large law firm, the first African-American to work there, I was assigned to handle a workers compensation case for a corporate client. The employee had a strong case but the company president was adamant about fighting it, so I represented the company in its hearing before the Bureau of Workers Compensation. After the Bureau ruled (correctly) for the employee, I returned to the office to call the client, give him the news and discuss a possible appeal.

When I told him of the decision, the company president (who had never laid eyes on me) blew up and yelled into my ear, “That guy is a dirty lying NIGGER!” I was stunned. “Excuse me?” I stammered. “He’s a dirty lying NIGGER! And everybody at the Bureau is a bunch of nigger lovers. I hope they all end up with nigger grandchildren!”

I felt like I had been punched in the chest and I didn’t know what to do. So I put him on hold and just sat there for a minute, heart pounding, as I tried to swallow and catch my breath.

Then I told myself, “Just get him off the phone, tell the firm and let them handle it.” So I picked the phone back up, told him I needed to call him back and clicked off.  I went upstairs to the office of the senior partner responsible for the client where, shaking and nearly in tears, I told him what happened.

He looked at me for a few seconds, then leaned back in his chair and burst out laughing.

“That guy! He’s such an old curmudgeon. Just last week, he had Bob (another partner) all worked up by giving him the business about being an Ivy Leaguer! That’s just what he does.”

Stunned, I tried to explain to him that the client hadn’t made fun of where I attended college. That this was much different.

“Don’t let it get to you kid. It’s not a big deal. You need grow a thicker skin.”

I left his office and returned to my desk, where I sat not knowing what to do next. A few minutes later, the partner came to my office.

“Oh, good, I thought. He’s figured out he needs to do something ….”

But no. He was there to get the client’s file to give to another associate to handle. “It will probably be uncomfortable for you to work with him now,” he said sympathetically, as if he was doing me a big favor by taking me off of the case.

I asked him if he was going to tell the client why a different lawyer would be working with him, hoping that he planned to stand up for me and tell the client he had insulted one of the firm’s associates.

“No. He’s old and stuck in his ways. There’s no point in embarrassing him …” And he walked out, leaving me feeling alone, unprotected and unvalued.

Most people of color, women, and, especially women of color have surely and on more than one occasion, felt exactly as I did in that moment. It’s a common experience to find ourselves attacked by outsiders and then betrayed by the people who should stick up for us but instead just shrug and tell us WE’RE making too big a deal of the whole thing.

That’s why it was such a BFD yesterday when Joe Biden warned Trump and his henchmen that if they come for Kamala Harris, they’ll have to deal with him.

“Is anyone surprised Donald Trump has a problem with a strong woman? And we know that more is to come,” he said.”So let’s be clear … Kamala Harris has had your back – and now, we have to have her back. She’s going to stand with me in this campaign, and all of us are going to stand up for her. “

When I heard those words, I nearly cried with joy and relief. So many women and minorities have had to stand alone in the face of all manner of attack without any support from the people who should be standing by our sides.

But that’s not going to happen to Kamala. Yes, she’s going to be attacked, probably worse than any woman in political history, except perhaps Hillary Clinton (who also got little support from people who should have stood up for her). It’s already started. But this time, she won’t be alone. Joe Biden has put everyone on notice that not only does he have Kamala’s back, but he expects the entire party to circle the wagons around her. He essentially said for all to hear, “She’s with US. She IS us. So if you come for her, you’d better be prepared for a fight.” And that’s a fight they do not want to have.

As VP, Joe Biden showed himself to be valued and loyal partner to America’s first black president, a younger man whom he was willing to stand behind and support unwaveringly. As a presidential candidate, he showed himself to be a champion, who learned and grew and reached out to a diverse electorate. In selecting Kamala Harris as his running mate, he showed himself to be a politically savvy, bold and sensitive leader, paying it forward and helping to dismantle yet another barrier.

And yesterday, when he put the world on notice that he has Kamala’s back and expects the rest of us to have her back, as well, Joe Biden proved himself to be an ally in the truest sense of the word, willing to wield his privilege for the greatest good.

As we wait with bated breath for Joe Biden to announce his running mate and many of us have our fingers, toes and eyes crossed hoping he picks one of the outstanding African-American women said to be on his shortlist, I’ve noticed something interesting and troubling: a number of people seem to have a problem with black women being given a preference in the veepstakes.

Among the more common pushbacks: “He shouldn’t pick anyone based on race, but on qualifications.” And “What difference should her race make? Just pick the best person.”

In other words, whenever we talk about Biden making a special effort to choose a black woman, some folk go all “content of her character” on us.

Interestingly, however, many of these same people making this argument didn’t seem to have any problem with Biden announcing he would pick a woman, and only a woman. Men, he said, need not apply.

I didn’t see many women insist that “He shouldn’t pick anyone based on gender. He should just pick the best person, and if the best person is a man, so be it.”

No. They were thrilled – and rightly so – that Biden was singling out one group of people who have for too long been excluded from the game.

Yet now that there is a rising tide calling for Biden to select a black woman, many of these same people are insisting that race shouldn’t be the deciding or even significant factor.

But if it’s fine and dandy for Biden to only consider women, why would it be wrong for him to only consider black women?

If you’re ok with Biden limiting his selection pool to women (which excludes all men, including black and brown ones), you should also be ok if he were to limit that pool to just black women, a group even more underrepresented and marginalized than white women.

If you’re not, you might want to think about why you have a problem with it.