Latest news with #GlobeOpinion
Boston Globe
21-07-2025
- Politics
- Boston Globe
Newton mayor goes over the (painted) double line
And those are just the examples the crack research team at Globe Opinion could identify. ( In Rhode Island, Bristol's red-white-and-blue center line on two-way Main Street is such a cherished tradition that the town secured explicit permission for it from the federal government ( And is any of that really so terrible? The lines — and other nonstandard street markings, like the rainbow crosswalk in Northampton — seem inoffensive to me, small symbolic ways to honor an area's distinctive past or present. Check out Advertisement Now, there is perhaps a reasonable counterargument that such markings could be viewed as exclusive — that an Italian flag painted in a public street sends an unwelcoming message to residents of the neighborhood who aren't Italian (or Mexican or Hungarian, if you want to get technical). Advertisement But that's not how Newton's mayor, Ruthanne Fuller, has defended the decision to remove the center lines, which had been in place for decades before they disappeared in the middle of the night without warning on June 26. Rather, the city says it was a required safety step. Removing them was 'mandatory, not optional,' Fuller wrote in a The standards Fuller cited said two-way streets that are more than 20 feet wide and carry more than 6,000 vehicles daily 'shall' have center line markings that 'shall' be yellow. Adams Street is 33 feet wide and has an average daily vehicle count of 6,002, according to a Citing crash data and other statistics, that same report also listed Adams Street as the highest priority spot for traffic calming in all of Newton — though it didn't specifically blame the Italian lines for the street's safety problems or recommend removing the lines as a way to solve them. (If anything, I'd guess that unconventional lines make people slow down, not speed up, for the very reason that they're so unusual.) Fuller offered a compromise, saying that the neighborhood could paint the Italian colors on the street in addition to the yellow lines in the center. But that's not flying with residents, who are demanding the return of the Italian colors on the center lines, full stop. And Fuller's safety rationale hasn't convinced critics, some of whom have accused the mayor of acting out of anti-Italian animus. Some even tried to Advertisement 'The claim that these markings needed to be replaced with yellow lines for safety lacks merit,' I'm not a lawyer — though many of Fuller's constituents are! — so I'm not going to attempt to parse the legal arguments. Suffice to say, though, that other cities in Massachusetts have apparently accepted whatever theoretical safety or legal risk nonstandard lines pose. (I emailed officials in Malden, Peabody, and Hingham, but none of them responded to my message; a spokesman for the city of Cambridge said the lines on one-way Warren Street were allowed because they do 'not interfere with any form of traffic control.') But let's assume Fuller's legal interpretation is correct and yellow lines are indeed required on Adams Street. With some creativity, and creative readings of the rules, there are still ways the city could end the controversy: The Newton City Council floated the idea of alternating between sections of double yellow lines and sections of Italian tricolor. The federal standards say the lines have to be yellow, but not that they have to be all yellow. As mentioned, Bristol, R.I., has special permission to paint its center line red, white, and blue. The city could petition the Trump administration for a similar exemption. Given its commitment to celebrating diversity, there's little doubt the request would be approved. More of a long shot, but an ideal solution would be to convince Italy to change its flag to a yellow-black-yellow pattern. It can't hurt to ask! Newton could just convert the whole street to a one-way street or, even better, a giant bike lane, which could then be painted however the city pleases. Secession. The rules apply to paved roads. Maybe use cobblestones on Adams Street instead? (That would also slow down traffic!) Secure pledges from three people in the neighborhood — maybe a few more as a cushion — to cut back on one trip on Adams Street a day, to get the daily vehicle count back below 6,000. Ultimately, I don't understand why Fuller picked this fight, and picked it now. Adams Street may well have needed traffic calming measures — and according to Fuller's message, the city is going ahead with raised pedestrian crossing and radar feedback signs. Those measures seem much more likely to reduce accidents than removing the Italian lines, so why not try them first? This is an excerpt from , a Globe Opinion newsletter about the future of transportation in the region. Sign up to . Advertisement Alan Wirzbicki is Globe deputy editor for editorials. He can be reached at
Boston Globe
11-07-2025
- Politics
- Boston Globe
A ‘big, beautiful' disaster for immigrant families
Among the law's most alarming provisions: It doesn't stop there. The bill imposes Advertisement Appeals of immigration decisions now cost $900, up from $110. For many immigrants, these fees represent an 'unaffordable price tag on due process,' Heidi Altman, vice president of policy at the National Immigration Law Center, Advertisement Then there's 'The Big Ugly Bill is incredibly irresponsible,' Héctor Sánchez Barba, president and CEO of Mi Familia Vota, a Latino advocacy organization, The sweeping law, which also includes What this law enshrines is not reform but punishment — it's criminalizing immigration to the fullest extent possible, monetizing some legal rights, and prioritizing cruelty over common sense. It is a legislative embodiment of Trumpism: performative and punitive. For immigrant families, the 'big, beautiful' promise has revealed its true face, and it surely is an ugly one. This is an excerpt from , a Globe Opinion newsletter from columnist Marcela García. . Advertisement Marcela García is a Globe columnist. She can be reached at
Boston Globe
03-07-2025
- Politics
- Boston Globe
Fourth of July vibe check
The following is a lightly edited transcript of the July 2 episode of the 'Say More' podcast. Shirley Leung: I'm Shirley Leung. Welcome to 'Say More.' The Fourth of July. What does it mean to you? This week it's America's birthday, a day that recognizes the signing of the Declaration of Independence, a blueprint for democracy. It's a celebration that comes around every year, but this time it feels different. To mark the Fourth, Globe Opinion asked readers and community members to reflect on how it feels to be an American today. Take a listen. Reya Kumar: Hi, I'm Reya Kumar. I was born and raised in California and live out in Boston now where I went to college. Every Fourth of July, I write an Instagram post about how I feel about America that year. It's become my annual tradition, a way to wrestle with my complicated relationship with my American identity. When I think about America, I'm caught between frustration at our failures and an unshakeable hope for what this country has the capacity to be. Even when I'm sorely disappointed in our leaders and systems, I could never imagine leaving. This country is too much a part of who I am. Even when it breaks my heart. I consider myself a patriot, but my patriotism isn't about blind allegiance to symbols or refusing to acknowledge our failures. It's about believing in what we could become. When I see the ongoing fight for voting rights, the persistence of systemic racism, or the rollback of reproductive freedoms, I don't see reasons to give up on America. I see reasons to fight harder for it. This 4th of July feels different. We're celebrating independence from a king while our president chips away at the foundations of our sacred democracy. The stakes feel impossibly high. That's exactly why I refuse to write off this country. Being American means holding two truths simultaneously, loving your country enough to demand better from it, and believing that better is possible. Jon Dickinson: My name is Jon Dickinson and I live in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. My American identity is rooted in self-reliance, perseverance, work ethic, and an ingrained desire to accomplish something every day. My first memory was being one of three kids under five, a dog, and my parents all gloriously crammed into an 800-square-foot rental. My parents worked multiple jobs to make ends meet. I was expected to be courteous, hold a job, save money, and pay for college. Some say the 'American Dream' is dead. I don't buy it. Too many are distracted by media outrage, virtue signaling, and curated personal narratives. Opportunities exist for everyone but are realized only when one holds oneself accountable for their own success. To me, being American means betting on yourself, taking risks, and not waiting for perfect conditions. It's the freedom to try and fortitude to persevere until you achieve your goals. Elliot: Hi, I'm Elliot. I live in Hampshire County in Massachusetts. How does it feel to be an American this Fourth of July? It feels terrifying, first and foremost, but I try to make sure that fear is pushing me closer to my community rather than alienating me from it. I'm the child of immigrants who were lucky enough to be able to come here legally, even though now that doesn't feel like a guarantee of anything. My grandparents came here from Latin America with their two young sons and truly lived the 'American Dream.' I've heard the story of how my grandparents were able to retire from the proceeds of my grandfather's patents after he was able to go to school and become an engineer. Now, I worry that my 93-year-old grandmother will be stopped and something about her– her accent, the way she dresses, the color of her skin or hair– will give some power-hungry bureaucrat the excuse to say she doesn't belong. I'm also a transgender nurse who works in transgender healthcare. I spend every day reassuring my patients that we're still here, still providing the life-saving care they need as long as we possibly can. Some days I live in panic that America can't come back from this. At least not an America I can be proud to belong to. Most days I try to make my little pocket of America a place that lives up to its values for once. That looks like volunteering for community meals, honking support for the protestors in the picket lines, comforting my partner when U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) shows up at the preschool where she teaches, doing something, doing anything, doing everything I can to feel like there could be good here in this place despite the evidence. Mayra Balderas: Hi, my name is Mayra. I am from Mexico. I came to the United States in 1988. I have been living in Chelsea since then. I became a citizen in 2000. Now, I'm on a school committee in Chelsea. I believe that where I was born is my first place, but also I grew up here, so that means that I have more American than Mexican. People who really come here to make a difference and to become somebody, meaning like go to school, have a great job, I feel like we need to support those people. When [you become] president, you swear that you are gonna take care of your constituents. You don't expect that people are going to have this behavior. The way they're behaving and the way they are treating the constituents and not respecting our rights, that makes you feel like they don't want you here, even though you are a citizen. Only because they see your color and you are not white. I'm not gonna give up, myself. I feel like if everybody fights for justice and makes a big voice and gets together and says, 'No, we don't like what they're doing,' I think we can make a difference because this is not okay. Sidhi Dhanda: My name is Sidhi. I'm from Hopkinton, Massachusetts. I'm not a proud American. I can't be, not while voting rights are rolled back under the guise of security, freedom of speech and science are under attack, and there is the ever looming threat of the end of democracy. But I am a grateful American. There are a few places in the world where someone like me, the daughter of a single immigrant father with a funny name, would've had the opportunity to live a life not defined by those circumstances. The place my family comes from, India, a country I love deeply, might not have seen my story the same way, but here in the U.S. it has not come close to defining me. I just finished my first year at Harvard, an opportunity I likely wouldn't have had if I was born elsewhere. Right now, it's hard to feel pride in a nation making so many painful choices. So no, I'm not a proud American, but I am a grateful one. Michael Barbalat: My name is Michael Barbalat and I live in Newton, Massachusetts. My parents and grandparents came to this country from the Soviet Union. When they arrived, they didn't have job guarantees. They didn't have a plan. They didn't even have much English, but they believed America would give them a chance to start again. And it did. Even as a kid, I understood that being here meant being able to speak your mind, choose your own path, and live without fear. For me, being American means having the freedom to think for yourself. It means being able to build your life in a way that feels right to you, without having to follow a predetermined path. It's not always easy, it's not promised, and it's definitely not perfect, but there's something unique and amazing about the idea that in this country, your future is in many ways up to you. Ian Thomson: My name's Ian Thomson. I live in Cape Town, South Africa. Born abroad to American and Colombian parents, raised across cultures and continents, my identity was never simple. At 18, I consciously chose America, not out of obligation, but out of admiration for its core values. My commitment deepened when I joined the Marines, eager to embody and defend the principles that drew me: integrity, equality, and the constitutional promise of justice for all. I finally felt that my Americanness was unquestionable when I pinned on the 'Eagle, Globe, and Anchor' for the first time at the end of Officer Candidate School, where our motto was, 'Ductus Exemplo,' imploring us to lead by example. That symbol, and those words, represented much more than military service. They stood for a nation's deepest ideals, ideals that I was prepared to uphold and represent internationally even at personal risk. Today, however, my American pride is tinged with betrayal, not solely by leaders acting in self-interest, but by my fellow Americans whose silence and acceptance of falsehoods have allowed dangerous narratives to flourish. Recent events remind us of how easily power cloaks itself in moral pretense. History warns us that empires rise through shared virtue and then fall into decadence and division. I feel like America is nearing this critical juncture. This July 4th, let's reaffirm our commitment to integrity. Let's preserve a nation worthy of its promise. Because it's not solely the task of those wearing the uniform, it's the duty of all Americans who believe that leading by example with honesty and accountability is what truly makes us free. Leung: You can check out Globe Opinion's full package marking Independence Day at Thanks for listening. Happy Fourth. Listen to more 'Say More' episodes at Today's episode was produced by Katelyn Harrop and reported by Rebecca Spiess. Kara Mihm of the Globe staff contributed to this report. Shirley Leung is a Business columnist. She can be reached at
Boston Globe
26-06-2025
- Health
- Boston Globe
The hideous legacy of the conservative Supreme Court decision that overturned Roe v. Wade
After experiencing severe headaches in February, Adriana Smith (no relation to Penny Smith), a registered nurse in Atlanta, went to the hospital twice. Days later, she was found unresponsive in her home. Smith was rushed to the hospital where doctors discovered blood clots in her brain. She was declared brain dead. Advertisement Smith, 30, was two months pregnant with her second child. But because of Georgia's draconian six-week abortion ban, Smith, against her family's wishes, was kept on life support for four months to keep the baby alive. On June 13, her son, weighing 1 pound, 13 ounces, was delivered prematurely via an emergency Cesarean section. Advertisement 'He's expected to be OK,' April Newkirk, Smith's mother, told an Atlanta TV station about her grandson, Chance. 'He's just fighting. We just want prayers for him. Just keep praying for him.' On June 17, Smith was removed from a ventilator, ending another sorrowful chapter in the Republican war against women's bodies. It should also be noted that Smith received more medical attention after she was declared brain dead than she did in the days before her boyfriend woke up to find her gasping for breath. During two visits to the hospital, Smith was given medication but no tests that might have revealed the danger that was discovered only when it was too late to save her. In 2019, Republican Governor Brian Kemp of Georgia signed the Living Infants Fairness and Equality Act, the law that mandated that Smith's body should be kept viable because she was pregnant. It was Everything changed three years ago this month when the conservative-led Supreme Court unsettled nearly 50 years of settled law by overturning Roe v. Wade and allowing states to severely curtail or prohibit abortion. More than 20 states now have abortion restrictions or bans. Of course, the overturning of the 1973 law that legalized abortion did not end the procedure. Women still need health care, and abortion is health care. In fact, abortions have Advertisement Among those unable to seek care elsewhere are some women who have faced dire consequences. According to a These laws aren't pro-life, nor do they protect women or children. On the day that Smith was taken off life support, This Saturday, Smith Advertisement This is an excerpt from , a Globe Opinion newsletter from columnist Renée Graham. . Renée Graham is a Globe columnist. She can be reached at
Boston Globe
25-06-2025
- Politics
- Boston Globe
Bowdoin nepo baby as class warrior: Zohran Mamdani embodies the left's ‘luxury beliefs'
On Tuesday night, Zohran Mamdani, a 33-year-old socialist and state Assembly member, declared victory in the Democratic mayoral primary over Andrew Cuomo, New York's former governor who was long thought to be the front-runner, and a field of other candidates. Mamdani's energetic campaign was able to sell enough optimism to obscure the utopian nature of his socialist platform, which will be conveniently funded by wealthy residents. And Cuomo was unable to effectively challenge Mamdani on the finer points of his fanciful promises. Mamdani will face incumbent Mayor Eric Adams, who's running as an independent, in the general election this fall. Get The Gavel A weekly SCOTUS explainer newsletter by columnist Kimberly Atkins Stohr. Enter Email Sign Up Mamdani's promises, like city-owned grocery stores, free child care, and a utopian rent freeze, would no doubt push out workers and capital, while scaring away big business, if he actually made good on them. And even though the New York Police Department has a staffing crisis, Mamdani has Advertisement Rob Henderson, a Globe Opinion contributing writer and Manhattan Institute senior fellow, has brunt of progressive policies. Voters signaled as much. According to polls A Manhattan Institute poll ahead of the election Advertisement No matter: Under a Mamdani mayorship, cops will have other priorities. Mamdani, who's been in But will a social worker restrain someone who is threatening to attack me? Can they stop a man from Having more mental health support on the subways might be helpful but only if there's a stronger police presence as well. Because sometimes mental health issues and addiction do turn into full-blown crime. Mamdani's movement typifies the kind of self-soothing progressivism thais another example that has come to define the Democratic Party, and that has been sold to young liberals as the path to justice. In reality, it's just the newest iteration of political elitism, where a utopian vision of crime-solving — and just about everything else — is championed by people who won't feel the full consequences. The people's warrior is just a nepo baby who graduated from Bowdoin. But the people he purports to fight for knew better. While Mamdani did well with white voters, he struggled in predominantly Black areas like the Bronx and Southeast Queens. These voters tend to live in higher-crime areas of the city and probably don't want to gamble their safety and economic well-being so that the Advertisement Carine Hajjar is a Globe Opinion writer. She can be reached at
