Letters to the Editor | April 16, 2025

As a white male, I’m acutely aware of the fact that I haven’t experienced the discrimination African Americans have had to endure throughout our country’s history. But that doesn’t disqualify me from the concern I felt reading Solomon Jones’ column in which he said Black Americans don’t see themselves as responsible for Donald Trump having been elected —which they weren’t — so they are abstaining from protesting and publicly opposing his ruinous policies. If what Jones wrote is true, that attitude is self-defeating and plays into the MAGA lord’s hands. It will adversely impact Black Americans as much as, and perhaps more than, others in this country. I didn’t vote for Trump. Does that excuse me from doing whatever I can to oppose and defeat him? Am I to leave those actions in the hands of the Trump voters who elected him? Jones’ attitude will simply enable Trump to continue his efforts to dismantle the checks and balances on which our country has relied since its founding.

Ben Zuckerman, Philadelphia

I attended the recent “Hands Off!” protest against President Donald Trump and noted the lack of racial diversity. Solomon Jones’ commentary makes several excellent points in analyzing the current state of affairs. White America does have a lot of responsibility for our current predicament. Yes, the election of an African American president did bring out the worst in many white Americans, as racism crawled out from under the rock it had been hiding since Brown v. Board of Education. Black folks are not as easily conned by the ultimate con man. However, I do take issue with his suggestion that Black people should sit this one out. Jones writes, “It’s up to white folks to fix this mess.” But as Martin Luther King Jr. wisely observed, “‘Tis better to live as brothers and sisters than to live apart as fools.” The current situation is an all-hands-on-deck scenario. Our very way of life is being threatened and dismantled before our very eyes. In a true democracy, all voices should be heard. We must join together in stepping off this madness.

Angus Love, Narberth, anguslove76@gmail.com

To columnist Solomon Jones, I would like to say that I, too, am mad. My anger knows no boundaries and is deep and all-encompassing. I am angry at anyone and everyone who voted for Donald Trump and enabled this crisis. I’m angry I should care more for others and their rights when they have no respect for either. Why should I help those who caused this mess? Because it is our duty as Americans to defend democracy. Instead of sitting on the couch and expecting everyone we blame to fix this mess, now is the time to unite. No matter your party, gender, race, profession, wealth, or how you voted, if you care about democracy, then come join the protest. To be silent is to let them win and to be complicit. Getting involved doesn’t condone the wrongs, doesn’t imply forgiveness or acceptance. It means we realize there is something bigger at stake, and we are meeting the moment. Later, we will have time to reflect, deal with our anger, and hopefully heal. I hope Jones reconsiders and chooses to share hope, courage, and inspiration with his readers in subsequent columns.

Vera Robinson, Malvern

I’ve been a responsible taxpaying citizen for more than 50 years. But this spring, I’ve started to wonder if paying my federal taxes is the responsible thing to do. I have no trust my contribution will be used in ways that accord with the Constitution, and am pretty certain it will not be used in ways that promote the general welfare. I would so much rather see that money used to support programs like those now being ruthlessly slashed by the administration. To simply refuse to pay my federal taxes this year is a bigger step than I’m currently prepared to take. But I hope some group is thinking ahead to next year, on behalf of all the hundreds of thousands of us who share this deep unease, and setting up possible pathways so that our federal taxes can be diverted from the hands of this administration and set aside for uses that actually support our Constitution and our common well-being.

Pamela Haines, Philadelphia, pamelahaines1@gmail.com

Thankfully, Gov. Josh Shapiro and his family safely evacuated their residence that was set on fire by an intruder, but only after police loudly banged on the door to awaken them. Was the residence equipped with a home alarm system and required smoke detectors? Were they working? And in an emergency, can the police call the governor on his cell phone? Was it turned off? Any investigation of the incident should include answers to these questions.

Paul Kamenar, Chevy Chase, Md.

If you have lost a loved one, do you ever feel a painful aching loss, not physical, but strongly there? In Jewish tradition, when a family member dies, friends visit to support and comfort the bereaved in a ritual known as shiva. This aching loss was my experience at the shiva held at the home of Phyllis W. Beck, the trailblazing first female member of the Pennsylvania Superior Court who died on March 3. There were countless shared personal experiences, including how Judge Beck offered wise counsel on professional direction, ever supporting successes. My heart seemed to weep, as myriad kindnesses to me flooded my memory. This included how she — somehow, someway — always found what I wrote, regardless of how little known its publishing source, and contacted me with sensitive endorsement.

As shiva progressed, I recalled that during my bat mitzvah year, our Baltimore congregation’s beloved rabbi, Uri Miller, discussed a little-known interpretation of the ritual with our class: Those we love do not realize their soul and spirit have left a body that no longer can serve them. Experiencing loved ones who speak about them, but not to them, informs them their lives on earth are over, and frees their soul and spirit to move onward. It seemed Beck, highly uncomfortable with praise, was with us in spirit and able to endure a full evening of expressed love.

As time passed, I felt as if an apartment were being created inside of me, where she brought her coffee and addictive creamer, cherished photographs, an array of takeout menus for long future dinners, and a birthday cake with the right number of candles. Beck was always 49. My pain eased. For I understood: Death does not end cherished relationships. They continue, even more precious.

SaraKay Smullens, Philadelphia

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