The need for sensitivity to community in Texas
In this lecture, I wanted to focus on the need for sensitivity to the notions of community and society. It's easy for some people to believe they are truly independent because they do face terrible amounts of neglect. However, this may not produce the healthiest conception of politics.
I lived in Dallas 20 years and I thought I knew a lot about Texas. I mean, how could I not. Getting stuck on I-35 for hours and listening to public radio has to teach you something.
Truth is, I did learn a lot. Dallas does not hide its class issues. Park in the wrong neighborhood and you would be promptly towed. Some public high schools were the richest in the nation, others the poorest. They weren't terribly far from each other. Places like the flagship Half Price Books were godsends, because that's where you saw more of a community. Those places were rare and of exceptional value. When the cafe at the flagship Half Price closed–a place I had worked on my dissertation, went on a few dates, hung out with innumerable friends, met some of the best people on earth, read piles of books–it was hard not to be sad.
I grew up with a lot of people who were deeply cynical about the word "community." And sometimes driving out here, I wonder about "community" too. I mean, if someone is willing to risk an accident to beat a light every nanosecond, you've got to wonder whether the value of life is understood. But community is a real thing, I assure you. Think about the people who don't like you and you don't even like, and how much they do for you. How much people stay out of your business or don't cause more trouble when they easily could. Now think about the times strangers go the extra mile to make your day brighter. Now go a bit further and think about people who feed others, who serve the homeless, who deal with tough situations and don't take it out on anyone else, who get degrees and take on serious jobs not for the money but in order to serve. I know there are plenty of people who would say that none of those people make much money. They might even be so gross as to say those who serve are helpful but not necessary. I don't think it's worth refuting this argument, which is, weirdly enough, so close to being right. The things which create community and society–the things which make money worth anything–are not treated with any respect. We're always in the position of having money and endangering ourselves because we believe it can do the same as morality, actual skill, knowledge, trust, or love. It can't. There are so many with so much money who are completely broken.
There are a few things I'd like you think about this week. First, I'd like you to watch this incredible video where Susie Angel, a woman with a disability, tries to convince the Texas Legislature that those helping her are owed more than $8.11 an hour. There's so much going on here and I've labelled this video "the heart of the course." We've got a biennial legislature which only meets every 2 years and is further restricted by a balanced budget. Texas also has the world's 8th largest economy, if considered an independent country. I need you to think carefully about what these things mean for people's everyday lives. What does it mean to have all the money in the world and then pay essential healthcare workers sub-poverty wages? Why is this happening, and what does it say about our values and the structures we tolerate? What might be said to people who say there simply isn't any money to help everyone?
I definitely want you to read about Susie Angel's life even if you don't have time to watch the video. In the end, everyone will have a disability–that's part of getting older. What does it mean that we orient our lives around the notion that we can always work? Going back to the previous discussion about constitutionalism, what does it mean that our fundamental laws take this for granted? Is it possible to have a just society and treat those with disabilities as an afterthought?
Second, I'd like you to think about the strange distribution of executive power and accountability in Texas. So Texas has a plural executive, meaning that it can be tricky to know who is responsible for what. This leads to the Railroad Commission being in charge of oil and gas (you read that right), and leads to absolute absurdities like Lake Boehmer, a 60 acre toxic lake that has been expanding for years because of one unplugged oil well. Let me read to you from an article about what happened when the Railroad Commission was presented with the news that there were lethal amounts of hydrogen sulfide coming from the lake. This is a longish story from Marfa Public Radio:
In 2022, attorney Cole Ruiz appeared before the commission on behalf of the Middle Pecos Groundwater Conservation District to present a report that had found extraordinarily high amounts of H2S being released at Lake Boehmer.
"The levels of H2S they have out there is a lethal level," he said. A study presented to the agency by Ruiz showed that 14,428 parts per million of H2S has been recorded at the Lake.
Over the years, the amount of H2S at Lake Boehmer has varied, but it has been enough to be considered dangerous. Ruiz asked the three commissioners that lead the agency for help stopping the flow — which would mean plugging the well. However, they were suspicious of his claims — especially Christi Craddick.
As he described the bleak landscape around the lake, she interjected, “It’s barren cause it’s in the middle of West Texas. I grew up out there and you’re in the middle of a drought.”
There are thousands of abandoned wells across Texas and the Railroad Commission spends millions of dollars annually plugging a number of them. However, agency officials have refused to take care of the well at Lake Boehmer claiming it is outside of their jurisdiction because it is a specific kind of well known as a P-13.
This name is a reference to the commission’s current form that is used to convert oil and gas wells into water wells. According to commission staff, once this process is complete, these wells are no longer the commission’s responsibility because they are officially considered water wells.
Craddick told Ruiz in 2022, “Once it becomes a P-13 well, that is out of our authority. It becomes a water well and as you know we have water wells all over our state. Statutorily, we don’t have authority over a water well.”
Agency officials say the landowner or the Middle Pecos Groundwater Conservation District are responsible for plugging the well at Lake Boehmer, which could potentially cost millions. In Texas, water wells are primarily a property owner’s responsibility to plug.
However, when Ruiz tried to point out the commission had the resources and the ability to take care of the lake, Craddick responded, “You’re telling us we’re responsible for it because we look like a money pit, but we are not a money pit."
I have taken the time to read this story at length because it is of the utmost importance. Oil wells that could leak are everywhere. It doesn't matter if the Railroad Commission plugs most of them. What matters is that just one could be an enormous disaster, making large parts of land unlivable. And I need you to see that the response from the government can be flippant and less than charitable–some parts of the government do not feel they are accountable to anyone.
You might wonder, if you detect an attitude, where it comes from. Texas is not like Washington, D.C. There are plenty of phonies and power-seeking nerds in D.C. But there are also a lot of people who desire to do public service. Who want to see the government do more for people and then put their efforts into making sure that happens. I've taught for years and have barely taught anyone who wants to go into government in order to serve. It's simply not the way we think about things. That can be fine, plenty can serve in other ways–maybe through church, maybe by creating one's own charity, maybe through certain careers, maybe by finding a cause. But I don't need to tell you there is a limited amount of that, too. If a culture says that being free is only about doing what you want and having the means to do it, it will produce cruel people who don't care about the sufferings of others. And some of those people will find their ways into power.
Only when I left Dallas and started seeing more of Texas did I realize what I had learned. Texas has a strong sense of identity and some amazing communities. However, it lacks a general sense that community and society are delicate, valuable things that if we lack, we needlessly suffer. I need you, as you think about what Texas government means in your own life, to consider what we're missing that could help us. What we're probably not even aware of. The task for the new year, really for every year, is to understand what power we have that we're not even using. A power, you could say, buried because of endless gossipy headlines and partisan drama. Texas government begins less with knowing who is fighting to be Texas House Speaker and more with being able to see that ambulance wait times are too long, underfunded schools may be in danger of fewer funds, oil wells are leaking extremely damaging pollutants, and that being stingy when the state has surpluses may entail dehumanization. If you are interested in electoral politics, I cannot recommend this one article enough as a starting point. An elections reporter talking about the shame and fear of having a green card–being a permanent resident, formally protected by the U.S. government–and how that related to voting.