Dear Mr. President,
One of my final papers is on State Question 755. I would not normally write to you about issues of state government unless it was my own state, but the broader implications of this issue and it's popular support are really getting me down today. As I'm sure you know, State Question 755 would amend Oklahoma's state constitution to prevent courts from considering Shariah or International law when deciding cases. While I have confidence that wiser heads in Federal courts will prevail, it isn't this law, or the effects it would have that bothers me the most.
State Question 755 passed with almost 71% of the vote. Not just a majority but an overwhelming majority of Oklahoma voters were convinced that the threat of Shariah law is dire enough to warrant a constitutional amendment. I believe that many issues have perfectly reasonable people on both sides, that intelligent, rational thinkers exist as both conservatives and liberals. I don't believe that SQ 755 is one of those issues. I will say now (and I don't particularly care if it is disrespectful) that any one who voted for this is either stupid, uneducated, racist or easily manipulated. It really depresses me to know that 70% of Oklahoma's voters fall into that category. It makes me think that maybe public education is even worse off than I'd realized.
Researching this issue has led to reading a number of comments from supporters wearing the modern-day white sheets of internet anonymity. CAIR is a trojan horse, they say, Muslims are evil, they say, Islamic law demands that you beat your wife, force her into a burqa and mutilate your daughter, they say. I wish I was exaggerating but these are all comments I see repeated again and again. I think this must have been what it felt like to be a white American during the era of Jim Crow. I see this pointless, hateful, twisted logic written in to law and supported by the majority and hidden behind fear-mongering and I can't do anything about it. No one wants to listen to reason, no one wants to even hear information that might contradict their beliefs. It's like banging my head against a wall.
I guess I should take comfort in the fact that Jim Crow laws were overturned, the civil rights movement did change a lot of minds and that things did, slowly, get better. Muslims in this country may be the convenient scapegoat of our irrational fear at the moment, but in a few decades or centuries it will get better. What really bothers me is that, even if things have progressively improved for minority groups in America, it seems as though the ignorance and fear that caused the oppression and wrote it into our laws (and even our founding documents) hasn't gone anywhere. We stumble from enemy to enemy without questioning the real problem- our ignorance and our fear.
I don't have anything constructive to offer. The courts will strike down SQ 755 and it will materialize in another form on another ballot in 2012. I want to be cheered by the inevitable triumph of judicial wisdom over popular ignorance, but I'm having a hard time seeing the good in a system that pits one judge against 70% of a state's voters and hopes that the right thing will be done. How do you maintain your own faith in the voters, especially after this year's midterm elections? How do you explain an initiative like 755 passing with such a wide margin of victory?
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Showing posts with label midterms. Show all posts
Showing posts with label midterms. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Monday, November 1, 2010
Day 305-Man up for Midterms
Dear Mr. President,
I think if I read one more poll I will actually lose my mind. Whatever happens tomorrow is set in motion, and sadly I'm swamped with an entirely different kind of midterms. I can't read any more analysis. I can't consider any more predictions. If another Dino Rossi pop-up ad starts talking to me while I post this entry I will scream.
We're all going to get out of bed on Wednesday and go to work or school or breakfast. We will get through tomorrow and we will live with the outcome, no matter what. Or, at least, this is what I'm telling myself. Because Nate Silver might love numbers and polls and hypotheticals but he's making me crazy tonight. And the Huffington Post might be obsessed with absurd weather/natural disaster metaphors, but it won't do any good at this point. The most I can hope for tomorrow, is what my friend Ralph reminded me of earlier: that CNN has hologram people. Because an election night without hologram people on CNN is just not enough for me any more.
Seriously though, I've got essays to write and very little sleep in my near future or recent past. If any one who reads this hasn't voted yet, do so. (Also, why are you reading a political blog if you don't vote?) If you want my suggestions on who to vote for in Washington State, if you're in any way ambivalent about the Senate race, or if you actually don't care, please vote for Patty Murray. She's excellent, and Dino Rossi eats puppies and cheats on his taxes. If you're reading from out of state, I'm sorry you don't live somewhere cool enough to have mail-in elections, but don't let the weather, the lines at the polls, the annoying political ads, errands or apathy stop you from voting. Man up, America, and get out that vote.
Mr. President, I hope that we both survive our respective midterms tomorrow without too much of the suffering every one seems to be anticipating. Wednesday will come for all of us, and I think we'll probably make it there in one piece.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
I think if I read one more poll I will actually lose my mind. Whatever happens tomorrow is set in motion, and sadly I'm swamped with an entirely different kind of midterms. I can't read any more analysis. I can't consider any more predictions. If another Dino Rossi pop-up ad starts talking to me while I post this entry I will scream.
We're all going to get out of bed on Wednesday and go to work or school or breakfast. We will get through tomorrow and we will live with the outcome, no matter what. Or, at least, this is what I'm telling myself. Because Nate Silver might love numbers and polls and hypotheticals but he's making me crazy tonight. And the Huffington Post might be obsessed with absurd weather/natural disaster metaphors, but it won't do any good at this point. The most I can hope for tomorrow, is what my friend Ralph reminded me of earlier: that CNN has hologram people. Because an election night without hologram people on CNN is just not enough for me any more.
Seriously though, I've got essays to write and very little sleep in my near future or recent past. If any one who reads this hasn't voted yet, do so. (Also, why are you reading a political blog if you don't vote?) If you want my suggestions on who to vote for in Washington State, if you're in any way ambivalent about the Senate race, or if you actually don't care, please vote for Patty Murray. She's excellent, and Dino Rossi eats puppies and cheats on his taxes. If you're reading from out of state, I'm sorry you don't live somewhere cool enough to have mail-in elections, but don't let the weather, the lines at the polls, the annoying political ads, errands or apathy stop you from voting. Man up, America, and get out that vote.
Mr. President, I hope that we both survive our respective midterms tomorrow without too much of the suffering every one seems to be anticipating. Wednesday will come for all of us, and I think we'll probably make it there in one piece.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Day 289- A bit late
Dear Mr. President,
It's much later than I usually post my letter to you. Since it won't, at all, affect the time you receive the letter, I'm sure this will go unnoticed. I like to think my excuse- I was playing my oft-repeated role as Designated Driver for a few friends who'd had way too much to drink- is worthy enough that those who do read this online won't judge me for missing midnight by several hours. I spent the evening around people I care about, people I respect, people who have achieved the kind of goals in life I'm supposed to be setting for myself- graduate degrees, successful careers, marriage, family- and found very little to make me want any of it. Through it all I felt incredibly out of place, unable to relate to the things that make them happy or even the things they find important. By the end of the night, as I was attempting to herd drunk friend into safe modes of transportation and get them home, I'd been thinking a lot about the midterms.
I started the night out with a clear agenda, an ambitious idea of how the night would go and what was important to me. l was quickly forced to compromise. The conflicting agendas of others, the logistical complications, the whole evening began to feel a lot like I've always imagined negotiating a piece of legislation through congress would feel. By the time I was struggling with drunk friends to keep them safe and get them home, I felt like I was fighting the forces of gravity just to hold my sanity together. Forget about my agenda; it had been lost for hours. Not to belittle the complexity of your current political situation, by comparing to to a bunch of drunk kids at a bar, or anything. You're a big fan of the responsible-driver vs. the republicans metaphor, and tonight i regretted ever cynically complaining about how overused that particular fable has become in your stump speech. The whole country handed you the keys and said they were just going to have a couple beers. You look around now and every one is screaming about marxism and your birth certificate and Obamacare and you have to wonder why you agreed to stay sober in the first place. No one will listen to you, or take your advice, or let you just fix things the way you want to. Even when inebriated, we Americans tend to be pretty protective of the idea of our own superior judgement as individuals.
I don't imagine that I've done anything more tonight than found a small my-life-sized analogy to the massive problems and struggles you face. But I think you're making the right call. Because, for a moment, I leaned back against my friend's car to appreciate the stars, and thought about the absurdity of it all. I almost laughed, because the night had already gotten so far away from funny that there was nothing else to do. I don't know if it helped me at all, but I can say that at least no one got hurt, and at least every one got to a safe place to sleep. You may have had the most tedious night of your life and be surrounded on all sides by fellow Democrats stumbling and senseless with the fear of the whims of a capricious public, but you're still criss-crossing the campaign trail, making your case, recognizing that even if you can't keep your agenda you can at least get every one home in one piece.
It's a tough job, but somebody has to do it. Tonight, I am immensely grateful that it's you and not me.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
It's much later than I usually post my letter to you. Since it won't, at all, affect the time you receive the letter, I'm sure this will go unnoticed. I like to think my excuse- I was playing my oft-repeated role as Designated Driver for a few friends who'd had way too much to drink- is worthy enough that those who do read this online won't judge me for missing midnight by several hours. I spent the evening around people I care about, people I respect, people who have achieved the kind of goals in life I'm supposed to be setting for myself- graduate degrees, successful careers, marriage, family- and found very little to make me want any of it. Through it all I felt incredibly out of place, unable to relate to the things that make them happy or even the things they find important. By the end of the night, as I was attempting to herd drunk friend into safe modes of transportation and get them home, I'd been thinking a lot about the midterms.
I started the night out with a clear agenda, an ambitious idea of how the night would go and what was important to me. l was quickly forced to compromise. The conflicting agendas of others, the logistical complications, the whole evening began to feel a lot like I've always imagined negotiating a piece of legislation through congress would feel. By the time I was struggling with drunk friends to keep them safe and get them home, I felt like I was fighting the forces of gravity just to hold my sanity together. Forget about my agenda; it had been lost for hours. Not to belittle the complexity of your current political situation, by comparing to to a bunch of drunk kids at a bar, or anything. You're a big fan of the responsible-driver vs. the republicans metaphor, and tonight i regretted ever cynically complaining about how overused that particular fable has become in your stump speech. The whole country handed you the keys and said they were just going to have a couple beers. You look around now and every one is screaming about marxism and your birth certificate and Obamacare and you have to wonder why you agreed to stay sober in the first place. No one will listen to you, or take your advice, or let you just fix things the way you want to. Even when inebriated, we Americans tend to be pretty protective of the idea of our own superior judgement as individuals.
I don't imagine that I've done anything more tonight than found a small my-life-sized analogy to the massive problems and struggles you face. But I think you're making the right call. Because, for a moment, I leaned back against my friend's car to appreciate the stars, and thought about the absurdity of it all. I almost laughed, because the night had already gotten so far away from funny that there was nothing else to do. I don't know if it helped me at all, but I can say that at least no one got hurt, and at least every one got to a safe place to sleep. You may have had the most tedious night of your life and be surrounded on all sides by fellow Democrats stumbling and senseless with the fear of the whims of a capricious public, but you're still criss-crossing the campaign trail, making your case, recognizing that even if you can't keep your agenda you can at least get every one home in one piece.
It's a tough job, but somebody has to do it. Tonight, I am immensely grateful that it's you and not me.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Day 286- Get out the vote, Washington!
Dear Mr. President,
You're going to be speaking at my school on the 21st. I basically haven't stopped freaking out since I learned of this event a few days ago. To make the week even more exciting, Former Presidents Clinton and Carter, as well as the First Lady will all have events in Seattle that week. Unfortunately, I'll probably only make it to see you and President Carter, but having so many important Democrats visit my city in such a short time is still very exciting. I suppose this is the small upside of having an unnervingly close senate race.
At the risk of making you change your mind about visiting, I don't think you have to worry about Washington Democrats showing up this year. Patty Murray is well-liked and accomplished, and Dino Rossi has basically made a career out of losing the gubernatorial race and cheating on his taxes. I really never get tired of mocking him for his general sliminess, but I do wish he'd stop running for office and fade happily back into obscurity.
I've got several friends planning on attending with me; I'm not sure how many will join me in linning up at 5 am, but I'm counting on the later arrivals to bring me coffee. I keep trying to talk myself out of getting my hopes up; I'll probably be too far away to see much, you'll probably give the same old stump speech with that long-past-tired metaphor about the Republicans and the ditch and the car keys. I probably won't get to shake your hand or get you to sign something. I'm ok with that. I'd rather be a fan of your policies than a fan of you as a person. (Plus, not to make it a competition or anything, but I'm sure President Carter will sign his book for me.) It's still going to be a once in a lifetime experience to hear my country's president speak in person. Just because I've sent you 285 letters already this year doesn't make me any more deserving of your notice than the thousands of other screaming, devoted UW Democrats who will also be there. Still, I feel like it's important for me to go, even if it means missing class and annoying the heck out of my friends and coworkers in the meantime.
I'm glad you're coming back to Seattle, Mr. President. I'll do whatever I can to make sure my fellow progressive Washington voters and I don't let you (or Senator Murray) down. See you in a few weeks!
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
You're going to be speaking at my school on the 21st. I basically haven't stopped freaking out since I learned of this event a few days ago. To make the week even more exciting, Former Presidents Clinton and Carter, as well as the First Lady will all have events in Seattle that week. Unfortunately, I'll probably only make it to see you and President Carter, but having so many important Democrats visit my city in such a short time is still very exciting. I suppose this is the small upside of having an unnervingly close senate race.
At the risk of making you change your mind about visiting, I don't think you have to worry about Washington Democrats showing up this year. Patty Murray is well-liked and accomplished, and Dino Rossi has basically made a career out of losing the gubernatorial race and cheating on his taxes. I really never get tired of mocking him for his general sliminess, but I do wish he'd stop running for office and fade happily back into obscurity.
I've got several friends planning on attending with me; I'm not sure how many will join me in linning up at 5 am, but I'm counting on the later arrivals to bring me coffee. I keep trying to talk myself out of getting my hopes up; I'll probably be too far away to see much, you'll probably give the same old stump speech with that long-past-tired metaphor about the Republicans and the ditch and the car keys. I probably won't get to shake your hand or get you to sign something. I'm ok with that. I'd rather be a fan of your policies than a fan of you as a person. (Plus, not to make it a competition or anything, but I'm sure President Carter will sign his book for me.) It's still going to be a once in a lifetime experience to hear my country's president speak in person. Just because I've sent you 285 letters already this year doesn't make me any more deserving of your notice than the thousands of other screaming, devoted UW Democrats who will also be there. Still, I feel like it's important for me to go, even if it means missing class and annoying the heck out of my friends and coworkers in the meantime.
I'm glad you're coming back to Seattle, Mr. President. I'll do whatever I can to make sure my fellow progressive Washington voters and I don't let you (or Senator Murray) down. See you in a few weeks!
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Day 273- Keeping Fear Alive
Dear Mr. President,
You seemed to endorse the Rally To Restore Sanity in an interview the other day. I think that's probably a wise decision on your part, since the rational, calm and willing to disagree without outrage are probably your most loyal constituents. While conventional wisdom continues to spell certain doom for Democrats this fall, I think that the quieter voices of those who would rather not shout or hang tea-bags from their hats or paint hitler mustaches on their opponents are yet to be heard. I understand, however, that it is actually in your interest to keep the fear alive, so to speak. Lowering expectations frightens supporters to the polls on election day, scares money out of donors and time from volunteers. Doing and changing and acting and governing with conviction might also accomplish the desired result, but that is, to be fair, a much more challenging thing to do.
I heard Robert Gibbs insisting that the things you have accomplished are more surprising than the things you haven't accomplished. I understand that Mr. Gibbs is paid to try to make reality sound more favorable, but I think your administration's strategy of insisting you've kept your promises is not going to work. For one thing, the level of discontentment among voters would not exist if their daily lives had measurably improved over the last two years. I think that they will improve, and that your policies have often looked to favor the long-term benefits over instant gratification, but I don't think that is a message you or Mr. Gibbs will be able to sell to an increasingly desperate middle class.
Honestly, Mr. President, when you spoke, I used to listen. What you were saying and the way you were saying it, used to inspire me as few people ever had. When I heard you speak, I heard a leader. These days, you sound like a politician. And it isn't style that bothers me; I don't think that your political problems can be solved by changing the tone of your voice. It's substance. You can't rely on the same soaring rhetoric when trying to justify the underwhelming and often mundane changes you're making. And while I'm not suggesting that every speech you give ought to lend itself to a youtube music video I think the reason people are so disappointed is that there isn't much glory in bickering with right-wing democrats to wrangle watered-down legislation through inane congressional procedures.
I think you can be a better President than you have demonstrated, and I think Democrats can lead the country better than they have so far. I hope you find your voice again soon. What brought liberal voters out in record numbers in 2008 wasn't fear of losing to John McCain. It was the faith you gave us that we didn't have to be afraid all of the time, that our collective efforts and our collective courage could change our country. That we could make it safer, as we made it freer. That we could make it fairer as we made it more reflective of our values. That we could would wake up one day and believe, again, in the promise it held for all of us, no matter who we are. And those aren't promises you can make to the voters, this time around. You can say we're not finished yet, you can scare us with what Republican control will do to the little progress we have made, but you can't rely on fear alone. Stop lowering expectations and putting off controversial votes and trying to win the middle by turning on the left. Start showing people that you're not afraid of an ugly fight in the fall, that Democrats will stand up for our values and talk to us like we're adults. Empower your supporters instead of just scaring them. And watch that Yes We Can music video, one more time. I feel like I'm staring at a fresh glass of Hope Koolaid, just waiting for you to give me a reason to start drinking it again.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
You seemed to endorse the Rally To Restore Sanity in an interview the other day. I think that's probably a wise decision on your part, since the rational, calm and willing to disagree without outrage are probably your most loyal constituents. While conventional wisdom continues to spell certain doom for Democrats this fall, I think that the quieter voices of those who would rather not shout or hang tea-bags from their hats or paint hitler mustaches on their opponents are yet to be heard. I understand, however, that it is actually in your interest to keep the fear alive, so to speak. Lowering expectations frightens supporters to the polls on election day, scares money out of donors and time from volunteers. Doing and changing and acting and governing with conviction might also accomplish the desired result, but that is, to be fair, a much more challenging thing to do.
I heard Robert Gibbs insisting that the things you have accomplished are more surprising than the things you haven't accomplished. I understand that Mr. Gibbs is paid to try to make reality sound more favorable, but I think your administration's strategy of insisting you've kept your promises is not going to work. For one thing, the level of discontentment among voters would not exist if their daily lives had measurably improved over the last two years. I think that they will improve, and that your policies have often looked to favor the long-term benefits over instant gratification, but I don't think that is a message you or Mr. Gibbs will be able to sell to an increasingly desperate middle class.
Honestly, Mr. President, when you spoke, I used to listen. What you were saying and the way you were saying it, used to inspire me as few people ever had. When I heard you speak, I heard a leader. These days, you sound like a politician. And it isn't style that bothers me; I don't think that your political problems can be solved by changing the tone of your voice. It's substance. You can't rely on the same soaring rhetoric when trying to justify the underwhelming and often mundane changes you're making. And while I'm not suggesting that every speech you give ought to lend itself to a youtube music video I think the reason people are so disappointed is that there isn't much glory in bickering with right-wing democrats to wrangle watered-down legislation through inane congressional procedures.
I think you can be a better President than you have demonstrated, and I think Democrats can lead the country better than they have so far. I hope you find your voice again soon. What brought liberal voters out in record numbers in 2008 wasn't fear of losing to John McCain. It was the faith you gave us that we didn't have to be afraid all of the time, that our collective efforts and our collective courage could change our country. That we could make it safer, as we made it freer. That we could make it fairer as we made it more reflective of our values. That we could would wake up one day and believe, again, in the promise it held for all of us, no matter who we are. And those aren't promises you can make to the voters, this time around. You can say we're not finished yet, you can scare us with what Republican control will do to the little progress we have made, but you can't rely on fear alone. Stop lowering expectations and putting off controversial votes and trying to win the middle by turning on the left. Start showing people that you're not afraid of an ugly fight in the fall, that Democrats will stand up for our values and talk to us like we're adults. Empower your supporters instead of just scaring them. And watch that Yes We Can music video, one more time. I feel like I'm staring at a fresh glass of Hope Koolaid, just waiting for you to give me a reason to start drinking it again.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Day 257- Failure
Dear Mr. President,
I don't often fail. I say this not to be arrogant, but to highlight the safe and even calculated way I have lived up until now. I was consistently an A student, one of the valedictorians at my graduation. I haven't always gotten A's in college, but I've never failed anything important. This academic success is partially to my credit, but largely due to an avoidance of any courses too far outside my intellectual comfort zone. My life isn't where I want it to be; I haven't been as successful or as efficient as I would have preferred, and all of this is due not to failure but to living in fear of it. Today I believe I finally experienced failure. I could not access and apply a skill I should have. I set my mind to a task I could not accomplish. I don't think this is more unsettling to me because of my relatively safe existence up until now. Surely every one feels this way when they find themselves unable to rise to their own expectations. I'm lost, shaken up, disappointed, and angry. I'm also dimly aware that this might have been good for me. Realizing that failure isn't the end of the world, feeling it fully and intensely and still not giving up will help me take risks like this in the future. I knew taking that test yesterday was a risk, which is why it's taken me so long. It's been four years since I studied Arabic and it wasn't going to get any easier if I waited any longer. Every time I had to take a break from college, I felt more terrified that I would one day return only to find I was no longer qualified to continue. So I took a chance, the worst happened, and now I have to figure a way out.
If I had not taken the test I might not have numeric, quantifiable proof of my failure, but I would still be afraid. I would still be just as far away from my goal with nothing to spur me toward changing. Maybe this is all consolation for a feeling I'm still not entirely sure how to manage. Maybe I'm making excuses for my own mistakes, but at least I feel less afraid than I did yesterday.
I know one test might seem small compared to something like an election. I hope that the midterms aren't a failure for progressives. I am sure that, should the Democrats fail, this is how the story will be told. They were too far left. They were out of touch with the values of the American people. These lies will be spread by the right and accepted as conventional wisdom. And maybe it will finally push Democrats past their fear and force us to stand up and say enough. Because the Grand Old Party of hate and fear might be better at claiming victory, but Democrats haven't failed until they've gotten too afraid to stand up for what's right, for what's important. I hope none of the chatter about the left's impending failure scares those running for office in 2010 away from making the right choices, or scares you away from asking them to. And, should we lose power on election day, let it only compel us to be braver, to take more risks. Failing might not feel great, but it sure beats the hell out of living in fear.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
I don't often fail. I say this not to be arrogant, but to highlight the safe and even calculated way I have lived up until now. I was consistently an A student, one of the valedictorians at my graduation. I haven't always gotten A's in college, but I've never failed anything important. This academic success is partially to my credit, but largely due to an avoidance of any courses too far outside my intellectual comfort zone. My life isn't where I want it to be; I haven't been as successful or as efficient as I would have preferred, and all of this is due not to failure but to living in fear of it. Today I believe I finally experienced failure. I could not access and apply a skill I should have. I set my mind to a task I could not accomplish. I don't think this is more unsettling to me because of my relatively safe existence up until now. Surely every one feels this way when they find themselves unable to rise to their own expectations. I'm lost, shaken up, disappointed, and angry. I'm also dimly aware that this might have been good for me. Realizing that failure isn't the end of the world, feeling it fully and intensely and still not giving up will help me take risks like this in the future. I knew taking that test yesterday was a risk, which is why it's taken me so long. It's been four years since I studied Arabic and it wasn't going to get any easier if I waited any longer. Every time I had to take a break from college, I felt more terrified that I would one day return only to find I was no longer qualified to continue. So I took a chance, the worst happened, and now I have to figure a way out.
If I had not taken the test I might not have numeric, quantifiable proof of my failure, but I would still be afraid. I would still be just as far away from my goal with nothing to spur me toward changing. Maybe this is all consolation for a feeling I'm still not entirely sure how to manage. Maybe I'm making excuses for my own mistakes, but at least I feel less afraid than I did yesterday.
I know one test might seem small compared to something like an election. I hope that the midterms aren't a failure for progressives. I am sure that, should the Democrats fail, this is how the story will be told. They were too far left. They were out of touch with the values of the American people. These lies will be spread by the right and accepted as conventional wisdom. And maybe it will finally push Democrats past their fear and force us to stand up and say enough. Because the Grand Old Party of hate and fear might be better at claiming victory, but Democrats haven't failed until they've gotten too afraid to stand up for what's right, for what's important. I hope none of the chatter about the left's impending failure scares those running for office in 2010 away from making the right choices, or scares you away from asking them to. And, should we lose power on election day, let it only compel us to be braver, to take more risks. Failing might not feel great, but it sure beats the hell out of living in fear.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
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