by Brie Loskota

In his recent–and final–state of the State address, California's lame-duck governor, Arnold Schwarzenegger, remarked that California overspends on prisoners and underspends on higher education. He called for a constitutional amendment to ensure that the State would have to rectify this imbalance in favor of higher education each fiscal year. That idea may make good political sense, but it overlooks that fact that students are not the only Californians shortchanged by our spending on prisons.

Religious congregations carry a huge portion of the cost of rehabilitation when prisoners re-enter their communities. Former inmates return to neighborhoods already stressed by the recession, persistent social problems and underfunded institutions, and congregations are often the most viable and stable providers of support services in these areas. 

Congregations help mediate between re-entrants and larger society, weaving together a frayed safety net that helps former inmates with a variety of services, from job placement to health-care and housing.  They also minister to those who are still incarcerated as well as to their families and provide linkages to the outside world.

But instead of focusing on long-term solutions, myopic politics has once again carried the day, with state legislators and university administrators lauding the visionary nature of the Governor's proposal. Karen Bass, Speaker of the House, was at least able to point out that the proposed constitutional amendment does little to reduce recidivism or tackle sentencing reform.  Others have pointedly noted that projections of future prison-populations are based on grade-school reading levels, not access to higher education.

Beyond the sizzle of a sexy idea that has taken two disconnected funding streams and woven them together for political posturing lies the question: Who is calculating the real cost of incarceration and reentry that is being shouldered by the rest of society, most notably by religious groups that step in to fill the gaps as best they can?

This issue will stay with Californians for years, well beyond Schwarzenegger's tenure, and as always we need journalists to hold our politicians accountable for the merits and liabilities of their policies. Toward that end, we need more investigative reporting that will help us understand the root causes and consequences of recidivism–as well as the role congregations play in addressing urgent needs that our elected officials are content to ignore as long as we allow them to do so.

Brie Loskota is Managing Director of the Center for Religion and Civic Culture at the University of Southern California in Los Angeles. She also serves as the program officer for the CRCC Pentecostal and Charismatic Research Initiative, a program that seeks to spur new research on one of the world's fastest growing religious movements.

When a leading newspaper turns over valuable real estate to a depressing display of know-nothingism (of the uninformed rather than the nativist variety), there's only one response: Why?

Why did the Los Angeles Times run a simple-minded opinion piece on a significant social trend: the ongoing democratization of American religion.

Riffing on a recent Pew Study on Americans' penchant for spiritual eclecticism, Barry Goldman laments the loss of religious authority. Goldman's actual grievance is the loss of scientific authority, but focusing on that would have cost him nine cutesy-poo paragraphs on Aunt Mary's aphorisms, bunnies' sex organs and Mr. Potato-head spirituality.

The Pew survey does reaffirm the fact that Americans “engage in multiple religious practices, missing elements of diverse traditions.” But that's not new news. Almost two decades ago, historian Jon Butler radically revised notions of colonial American religion by showing how occult beliefs and practices thrived just below the surface of the Protestant establishment. Arguably, it was the American gift for synthesis, the desire for both magic and ministers that made our religious landscape rich, thick and unpredictable.

This unpredictability leads to pendulum swings. Religiosity during the Revolutionary Era was at an ebb in comparison with the flood-tides of religious fervor 50 years earlier and 20 years later. Similarly we find ourselves in a DIY age, wherein many feel less inclined to join institutions than to do what feels right for them. One man, one vote; one person, one religion.

Deborah Howell would have been excited by the possibilities for subsequent coverage. Howell, who was prematurely struck down last week, was that rare news editor who not only appreciated religion but also lobbied for it. She understood that the passion for meaning, identity and purpose—the heart of religion and spirituality—concerned all news consumers. In all her incarnations, from editor of the St. Paul Pioneer Press to Washington bureau chief of Newhouse News Service to Washington Post ombudsman, she championed smart coverage of concerns people lived with—from gender and sexuality to race and religion.

That kind of smart coverage—appreciating what is important in people's lives and trying to understand why—still thrives in American newspapers. In a 24-hour period, the New York Times had an in-depth analysis of American evangelicals' role in Uganda's proposed legislation to kill gays; a lyrical meditation  on the fate of small French churches (with savvy points about the relationship between crumbling cathedrals, Muslim immigrants and rising secularism), and an environmental update that pitted a native American tribe against a proposed wind farm for spiritual reasons.  

Also noteworthy—and I hope Mr. Goldman saw it—was a Philadelphia Inquirer story on the Eastern Orthodox churches of Northern Liberties, a gentrifying neighborhood that is undergoing rapid change. David O'Reilly digs deep into the histories of five churches to understand their history in the neighborhood and their significance for their Eastern European parishioners.

But it's the small snapshots of the newcomers that stick with me. All demurred when asked about church, but they each had a comeback: one was interested in cleaning up the park, another tried to be a good person and several said they believed in God in their own fashion. Doesn't sound like Mr. Potato-head spirituality to me. It sounds like people trying to find meaning and purpose in ways that made sense to them—and when religious institutions catch up, that's going to be a riveting story.

Diane Winston

by Lynn Schofield Clark

As 2009 comes to an end and various organizations turn their attention to the year in review, we at TransMissions would like to draw your attention to what are arguably the top religious viral videos of 2009.

Dean Obeidallah, Maysoon Zayid and Aron Kader created the Number 3 video after four members of congress claimed that Muslims aimed to take over the U.S. “Convert to Islam, win a prize!” says Kader's sign as he offers toasters to would-be converts as Obeidallah and Zayid count them up. This video can't become viral anymore because it has been removed from YouTube, but you can read the story here.)

In viral video Number 2, Reg Tigerman and Matt Johnson debut Twitteleh, a special version of Twitter created as a way for you to communicate with your Jewish mother. It asks you to answer these three questions throughout your day: Where are you? What have you eaten? And are you wearing a sweater?

The Number 1 top religious viral video of 2009 is actually not one but a whole cadre of viral videos that began with Jill and Kevin's big day.  Joyful rather than humorous is the apt descriptor here, at least until you start viewing the memes that the wedding dance has spawned, such as the JK Divorce Dance, the wedding dance as performed by Australia's Dancing with the Stars, and the dance performed by the anchors at WIS-TV (Columbia, SC), which was shown immediately after the original participants appeared on the Today Show.  The dance even appeared in Jim's and Pam's wedding from The Office.

A recap of this video wouldn't be complete without a mention of the one controversy it has generated.  The couple danced to a song by Chris Brown, who was convicted of domestic abuse earlier in 2009 following accusations by his girlfriend, fellow R&B singer Rihanna.  Brown's career tanked, but the wedding dance-song pumped life into “Forever (on the Dance Floor),” which continues to generate strong sales on iTunes. 

Once the wedding dance video went viral, Jill and Kevin included a link for donations to help end domestic violence. As of early December 2009, more than $26,000 had been donated to the Sheila Wellstone Institute through the wedding dance video. So even in its viral afterlife, this video is still producing smiles and touching lives.

Each of these videos demonstrate that despite social stressors like the recession and the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, we can find ways to laugh, both at ourselves and with each other, about the religious traditions and cultures that enrich our lives.  Here's to a new year filled with more of us who can find joy and humor in the everyday moments of the world we share!

Want more?  Here are two older videos that are worth seeing again: a compilation of funny church moments and Family Guy ripping on religion.

by Nick Street

Peter Steinfels' bittersweet reflection on his two decades as “Beliefs” columnist at the New York Times is better at begging questions than evoking nostalgia. Does the nation's paper of record have plans to replace the cerebral, institutionally oriented Steinfels with someone who can see religiosity in less conventional ways and in less conventional places? Or will the Times bank the money it saves and thereby succumb to one of the most dismaying trends in our unmoored profession? At a time when religious movements are more deeply connected to urgent social developments and less closely identified with traditional institutions, the very news organizations that should be helping us untangle these knots are doing a poorer job of covering religion.

Two recent stories stand out because they highlight the close connection between religiosity and issues like globalization and the struggles of economically marginalized communities. And because stories about religion so rarely make these connections (or rarely make them so well), both are worth noting.

In the Louisville Courier-Journal, Peter Smith writes about how home-grown churches and other religious organizations in eastern Kentucky are grappling with the relationship between climate change and the coal-mining industry that sustains the region's fragile economy. Smith's story suggestively outlines local theological differences that reflect much larger global tensions between economic development and some of the liabilities of the free-market. Similar issues—as well as Western anxieties about the spread of Islam—figure into a Radio Netherlands piece on the growth of Muslim converts among the indigenous population in Chiapas, Mexico.

Teasing out the threads that mutually entwine American Christianity and American-style capitalism may sound like a tall order, but Smith's article shows that good on-the-ground reporting gets the job done well. Jan-Albert Hootsen's legwork in Chiapas is just as effective at showing us how the big picture can be captured in a small story, and it also points toward why American news media fall short in their calling to serve the public interest by failing to report on religion effectively.

The Islam-in-Chiapas story has been around for a decade, but most of the coverage has come from journalists in Europe, where the growth of Muslim populations beyond the Arab world and Southeast Asia is a local story. But the appeal of certain strands of Islam for communities who have reason to feel resentment toward the colonial impulse in Christianity as well as the inequities spawned by “the religion of the market” should be a local story wherever there's a gas station or a big-box store.

It would be nice to think that the Times will use its “Beliefs” real estate for stories that probe for religiosity in novel forms of social organization and that link religion to other trends and movements in ways that deepen our understanding of interconnected issues. Simply closing or repurposing the space it has devoted to a religion column wouldn't just be a lost opportunity for the Times—it would also likely be a sign that legacy media won't regain their footing and sense of purpose any time soon.

Nick Street recently completed an M.A. in print journalism at the University of Southern California. His writing on religion, media, science and culture has appeared in the Los Angeles Times, L.A. Weekly, the Jewish Journal, Search and the Revealer. He has been a contributing editor for religion and sexuality with Religion Dispatches.

by Dalia Hashad

The Department of Homeland Security (DHS) has been caught engaging in prohibited spying on Americans based on religious affiliation or activity…again.  We've had ample warning and plentiful evidence that our government has long been engaged in this type of faith-based targeting, but you wouldn't know it from most of the media coverage on this latest revelation.

This time, press coverage focused on information that was uncovered as a result of a lawsuit filed by the Electronic Frontier Foundation. The heavily redacted documents, just released, reveal various violations of limits on government surveillance.  What hit most papers is the fact that for eight months, DHS illegally spied on the Nation of Islam (NOI) and then issued a report entitled, “Nation of Islam: Uncertain Leadership Succession Poses Risks.” 

In a subsequent “error,” the report was widely distributed, hitting almost 500 email addresses at federal, state and local government agencies; intelligence bureaus; congressional committees; and even addresses in the private sector. All of this was done in violation of DHS's own guidelines.

What wasn't discussed in the news media:  In eight months of surveillance, intelligence-gathering and file-building; in the writing, editing and approval process of a 200+ page report; and in compiling a distribution roster longer than my wedding-guest and holiday-card lists combined (and doubled!), why didn't anyone notice that the rules were being violated? Sadly, the answer is because what happened is pretty much how our government agencies conduct business these days.

Without the proper backdrop and context, we don't get the real story, and it's a big one. Most Americans who go to a mosque on Friday, synagogue on Saturday or church on Sunday would think that this story is divorced from their reality.  To say nothing of vegan leafletters or activists attending local environmental group meetings.  The media largely covered the NOI story as if it were a one-off mistake on the part of our government–an isolated incident involving a “fringe” religious group.

In typical coverage, the Washington Times headline reads: “Nation of Islam Probe Called Improper.”  The sub-headline assures us, “Rules 'unintentionally' violated.” The “Miss Manners” terminology makes the revelation sound as innocuous as someone using a dessert spoon to eat his soup.

But this isn't an incident that we should view as an isolated mistake.  It's part of documented pattern and practice by government agencies to treat certain religious and political affiliations with suspicion. Fishing expeditions based on religion, ethnicity or lawful political belief and activity are now commonplace. Through various agencies, our government has been infiltrating and/or spying on peaceful Muslim groups, anti-war activists, anti-abortion as well as pro-choice groups, journalists and others, all without any factual predicate, evidence or other cause for reasonable suspicion.

And here's the kicker: For the past year, under new relaxed guidelines, the FBI has been doing this lawfully.

Not so long ago, in ending COINTELPRO (the infamous J. Edgar Hoover FBI program that often illegally spied on, infiltrated, disrupted and harassed social groups) and in establishing new safeguards, we decided that we didn't want to be the type of country where our government spies on religious and other politically protected activity.  Now it is once again legal for our government to use spies and even agents provocateurs to undermine activity protected by the First Amendment and the Constitution. For journalists, this needs to be part of the story.

Dalia Hashad is an attorney specializing in human rights and civil rights.  She has also been a host and co-executive producer of “Law and Disorder,” a weekly talk-radio program.

by Judith Weisenfeld

On December 5, 2009, the Episcopal Diocese of Los Angeles elected out lesbian Rev. Mary Glasspool assistant bishop, pending consent by the national church.  Press attention has, understandably, focused on how Glasspool's election is likely to exacerbate tensions within the worldwide Anglican Communion, in which liberals and conservatives have clashed repeatedly over the ordination of gay bishops. 

Media analysis of the fortunes of the Episcopal Church presents Glasspool's story as a microcosm of broader religious issues, but those interested in the popular religious sources for gay and lesbian identity construction might do well to look beyond the stories of institutions and leaders. The night before Glasspool's election, soap opera fans turned to the Internet to watch the first webisode of Venice the Series, a sequel of sorts to the CBS soap Guiding Light, and an event that may reveal more than official church decisions about how American lesbians negotiate sexual identity and religious commitment.

When Guiding Light concluded its 57-year television run on September 17, 2009, fans of the show's romantic relationship between characters Olivia Spencer (Crystal Chappell) and Natalia Rivera (Jessica Leccia) were given a happy ending, with “Otalia” triumphing over the absurd plot complications typical in television soaps. 

The unlikely and yet seemingly inevitable romance between the two single mothers had even given the show's declining ratings a boost. Nevertheless, the producers' caution about depicting same-sex affection left fans with hand-holding as the only romantic interaction between the two.  

One of the striking elements of the Otalia storyline was Natalia's ardent Roman Catholicism and the presence of Father Ray as counselor to Natalia (and obstacle to the budding romance). Olivia's disdain for organized religion, even as she came to respect Natalia's faith, created additional challenges.  In fan videos, fiction, message boards, and blogs, fans joined the characters in discussing and debating religion and sexuality. Father Ray never got beyond declarations of sin, and his character was conspicuously absent in the final episodes of the series, facilitating the happy, but unsatisfying, resolution to the couple's story. Chappell herself was frustrated with the producers' timidity and, encouraged by the outpouring of fan support, decided to move the romance to the web.

Venice the Series, created by Crystal Chappell and Kim Turrisi, features Chappell and Leccia as new characters in a new setting, but gives Otalia fans a chance to see what might have happened had Guiding Light been more courageous in its portrayal of a lesbian relationship.  Although it was probably tempting to leave religion out of this alternative universe, the teaser video for the web series' first season gives a sense that discussions of religion and sexuality will be present, most likely through the conservative father of the main character. 

The second webisode airs on December 18; journalists and academics who keep an eye on how media shape religious culture (and vice versa) should be attentive to how Venice and other non-mainstream media products motivate viewers to contribute to pressing theological conversations. For some fans, what transpires on Venice may shape their understandings of religion and sexuality more directly and immediately than a church election, whatever its publicly declared significance.

Judith Weisenfeld is Professor of Religion and Associate Faculty in the Center for African American Studies at Princeton University. She is the author most recently of Hollywood Be Thy Name: African American Religion in American Film, 1929-1949 (University of California Press, 2007).

Just this month, Carl Jung's Red Book began its American tour at New York's Rubin Museum of Art. The Red Book, which Jung wrote and illustrated over a six-year period, is a graphic chronicle of the Swiss psychiatrist's exploration of (take your pick) madness, divinity, the unconscious, his psyche and/or depth spirituality.

Locked in a Swiss bank since Jung's death in 1961, the Red Book was made public only after a lengthy campaign by Jung's professional heirs. While Jungians see the book as a seminal text for understanding their teacher's legacy, Jung's descendants have worried how its strange illustrations and trippy text will reflect on their already provocative paterfamilias. For those who cannot see the actual book, which also will be exhibited in Los Angeles and Washington, D.C., a “meticulously reproduced facsimile“—now in its fifth printing—was published in October.

Jung has much to say to our era, a moment when—as the Pew Forum reported last week—almost half of us have had a religious or mystical experience. It's not surprising that evangelicals, whether black or white, are most likely to have had such an awakening but it's the responses among the unaffiliated that are most striking. Three in ten of this cohort have had a “mystical experience,” and while half of this number are simply “religiously unaffiliated” (aka “spiritual but not religious”), almost 20 percent of atheists, agnostics and “nones” also have had a spiritual/mystical encounter.

The pervasive proliferation of media makes this possible. Just as the printing press revolutionized the ways in which everyday folks could encounter the Bible, our ubiquitous access to TV, films and the Internet has radically rearranged our relationship both to spiritual narratives and one another. We can create, deconstruct and reassemble everything from the Bhagavad-Gita to the Scroll of Pythia—and share it with millions of others. Jung's Red Book deals with the former text; we can only wonder what he would have done with the latter (or with online forums like Friendster and Facebook).

New media platforms and social media have the capacity to make the old new and the new old. Will the Glo Bible speak to a new generation of media-savvy seekers, making Christianity cutting-edge in the same way that the Jesus Movement did for their boomer parents and grandparents? Or are teens and twenty-somethings more likely to be touched by the Armageddon-by-way-of-bioengineering epic at the heart of Dollhouse?

Exploring social trends and human behavior—how and why people seek meaning, connection and identity—is a key angle of religion coverage. But religionists, like all beat reporters, tend to track leaders, institutions and conflicts. That's part of the story, but it also misses the quirks, mystics and everyday practices that shape the beliefs and behaviors reflected in surveys like Pew's. We know about bricks and mortar—from the latest at Saddleback Church to the decline of the mainline. But some of the most important, intriguing and illuminating spiritual searches—like Jung's Red Book—are often hidden from the public eye.
 
Diane Winston
 

by Courtney Bender

The New York Times' response to the Swiss referendum banning minarets takes the moral high ground. “Disgraceful” says the Times, reminding us that intolerance and xenophobia spread fast. American warnings about European fascism are quickly losing their subtlety. Religion–Islam in particular–is almost always the focus of these warnings: the problems of headscarves, cartoons, riots and Turkey's role in the EU allow U.S. reporters and pundits to shape Europe's “problem” as a consequence of entrenched national-religious homogeneities that continue to thrive under the gloss of secularism.  The pluralistic American–liberal or conservative–can thus lecture not only the (hidebound) Islamic fundamentalist, but also the (hidebound) European national-secularist.

The critiques mustered by American editorials can be placed in a larger political context where, we should recall, the U.S. State Department has taken on the role of the world's watchdog for individuals' and groups' religious freedom. The International Religious Freedom Act of 1998 requires the State Department to churn out yearly reports on the status of religious freedoms in every nation, and the bureaucracy at State dutifully complies. (Switzerland's report for 2009 was published on October 29.)

Europeans and others chafe at the subtle diplomatic and cultural chauvinism engendered by these reports. Insofar as this “narrative” of America's position as equal parts watchdog and exemplar of religious pluralism and democracy is embedded within our broader national conversation, it arguably dulls our sensitivities to commonalities in European and American responses to religious and national heterogeneity.
 
For example, as in Switzerland, local U.S. zoning laws have frequently been deployed to limit building or expansion of mosques as well as Hindu temples and churches. We do not need to argue that every ruling against mosque-construction is motivated by religious intolerance, nor should we equate the effects of local zoning with a national referendum. But there has been surprisingly little coverage of various local and federal attempts to mediate these issues. Likewise, a focus on the most alarmingly xenophobic Swiss images linked to the minaret ban has overwhelmed reporting on the range of Swiss opponents to the referendum, who represent a wide array of political and religious positions. Coverage of the responses of  Swiss Muslims to the ban has also been scarce.

Perhaps, like me, other readers agree with Don Lattin that journalists should spend less time arguing about narratives and more time telling the story. Especially if it is “American religious tolerance”–this hardiest of chestnuts–that comes under scrutiny. Reports of European “xenophobia” should not enable us to say, “Well at least we're not Switzerland!” when we confront the limits of American-style toleration, either at Fort Hood or the Yearning for Zion Ranch.
   
It is often noted that the State Department does not file a yearly report on the state of religious freedom in the U.S. While it might be politically expedient for the U.S. government to measure religious freedom by the standard of a mythic narrative, journalists need not share this compulsion.

by Rebecca Wanzo

When Maurice Clemmons became the lead suspect in the shooting of four officers in the state of Washington, many people gleefully condemned Mike Huckabee for commuting the 108 year sentence Clemmons received in Arkansas. While some on the Left might have imagined that this would be a blow to Republican discourse about being tough on crime, they are missing the fact that many conservatives do not embrace Huckabee's position on many issues. This incident actually provided an opportunity for some conservatives to more firmly articulate why the former presidential candidate is not a good brand for the party. Huckabee's religious convictions led him to show mercy to Clemmons, a position that Conservative Underground founder Tim Dunkin calls “soft Christianity.” For Dunkin, all that woolly-headed liberal Christian thinking produces things like the  social gospel and liberation theology, pushing Christian practices that should be individual—such as forgiveness and sympathy for the poor and oppressed—into social policies.

But it is hard to blame Huckabee for being confused on this point, as the complex mapping of public and private expression of Christian belief in relationship to social policy is not easily discernible. Do we believe that all the stones thrown in public discourse are cast by the sinless, or that they just refrain from casting stones in their private lives? Jeff Sharlet tells us in The Family that some U.S. Christian power brokers believe that Jesus only said the meek were blessed in order to sell people on the idea of Christianity while “the elect” could go about the business of running the world.

Forgiving those who sin against us is nonetheless institutionalized in our justice system, albeit inadequately. But as a culture, we have a much harder time with that practice, and for good reason—it is difficult, and in extreme cases, it can sometimes pose a risk to ourselves or others if you forgive someone, as Jesus requires, “seventy times seven.” A glance at some of the message boards discussing recent murders in the U.S. will reveal four typical evocations of God: the victims have found a place in heaven; bless the family; God has a plan; and in a few cases, the disturbing suggestion that God makes a division between the deserving and undeserving. Forgiving the offender is rarely evoked in the everyday  political parlance of the Christian Right.

Thus the story of Huckabee's mercy and Clemmons' crime is not necessarily a good example of the Right not calling their own to task. It is more interesting as an example of a Christian conservative upholding principles that should be consistent with the theological mandate of the Republican party.  But these principles have fallen outside of public policy and into private life in a political party that has, over the last three decades, increasingly relegated “soft” virtues like forgiveness to the private sphere. Journalists should closely scrutinize the Christian Right's policies in relationship to crime and punishment in the wake of this incident, not because a prominent Christian conservative violated the law-and-order narrative, but because he upheld the Christian principles of mercy and forgiveness, and the Republican Party cannot tolerate forgiveness and mercy in relationship to its crime-and-punishment doctrine.

Rebecca Wanzo is an associate professor of English and Women's Studies at the Ohio State University. Her first book, The Suffering Will Not Be Televised: African American Women and Sentimental Political Storytelling, looks at how citizens frame stories about suffering to make their claims intelligible to the state. Her current book project, The Melancholic Patriot, examines representations of African American citizenship in comic art.

In recent weeks, we've posted a variety of viewpoints on news coverage of the role Islam played in the Fort Hood shootings. But the press' problematic reporting on Major Nidal Hassan's motives reflects a larger national problem. Most Americans know very little about their own religion's history, creeds and theology, much less anyone else's. That's unlikely to change until the nation's classrooms intelligently incorporate world religions into their curricula.

According to the Weekly Standard, that might be occurring—or not. Public school textbooks in Florida, California and Texas—three states whose large size enables them to set national standards—are adopting a post-9/11 perspective on Islam. Author Stephen Schwartz says older editions simplified or glossed over important aspects of Islam, “The wide range of belief and practice between Sunni, Shia and Sufi Islam, to name only the best known variations, is downplayed, and the problems of Islam, especially violent jihad, are simply left out,” but new books may do a better job.

Schwartz praises Texas' revisions, which include adding the rise of the Ottoman Empire to the list of must-know historical “turning points” and contextualizing Islamic fundamentalism within the study of modern totalitarianism. But in his zeal to ensure students understand Islamic extremism—he says, for example, “radical Muslims demand that law and government be guided exclusively by religious sources, typically of a rigid and retrograde nature”—Schwartz forgets that religious fundamentalism looks equally rigid and retrograde when practiced by Christians, Jews and other believers.

Schwartz's point of view comes into focus when he contrasts California's proposed changes with Texas'. The former, he says, treat Islam “as an entirely benign phenomena,” perpetuating the fuzzy liberal multiculturalism steered by the state's Islamists. Then, in a zinging coup de grace, he praises the Lone Star state's “sensible and critical path” and calls California “intellectually as well as fiscally weakened.”

Journalists might take note of these new standards and come to their own conclusions as to whether or not they are preparing students for the future. Equally worthy might be some reporting on the radical, fundamentalist policies—religious and political—that have bankrupted the nation's formerly best educational system and the once solid Golden State coffers.

Diane Winston