Laurels: Tapley racks up another award

Published in the Portland Phoenix

Portland Phoenix contributing writer Lance Tapley, who has covered conditions in the Maine State Prison and throughout the state's corrections system since 2005, will be honored by the American Civil Liberties Union of Maine for "outstanding advocacy for prison reform."

The recognition, in the form of the 2012 Roger Baldwin Award (named for an ACLU founder and former director), will be presented on Thursday, October 25, at the University of Maine Wells Conference Center in Orono.

Tapley, who recently contributed to the New York University Press anthology The United States and Torture: Interrogation, Incarceration & Abuse, has won many previous honors for the ongoing series, including from the national Association of Alternative Newsweeklies, the regional New England Press Association, and the Maine State Bar Association.

His reporting "became the catalyst for reforms that have helped make the prison safer for both prisoners and guards," said ACLU-Maine executive director Shenna Bellows, in a press release announcing the award.

"Maine has become a model for other states on solitary reform," said Bellows. "We would not be this far along without the reporting of Lance Tapley."

Please join us in Orono to celebrate Tapley's work, which totals nearly 100 stories to date. (See links to all of them at tinyurl.com/PhxMainePrisons.) It's free and open to the public; the evening's events begin at 6:30 pm.

Youth Culture: Bullies beware

Published in the Portland Phoenix

Wells rapper and man-about-town Spose is not a fan of bullies — or pulling punches. His song "Jimmy!" on his recent album The Audacity!details bullying, victimization, and comeuppance (karmic and otherwise), starting with describing Jimmy as "a troublemaking popular kid" who picks on Chris. Over the course of the song, Jimmy degrades into robbing and "doing coke off the floor again/while Chris graduates as the valedictorian."

To make the song's video, Spose is working with Project Aware, a local youth-driven non-profit opposing bullying and dealing with other aspects of teen health (sexual, physical, and mental).

As another element of that collaboration, Spose is headlining a fundraiser for Project Aware that plainspokenly hands victims of bullying a possible weapon (words only!) to use against their tormentors. The event's title is "Don't Be A Douchebag." (It also features performances by other musicians, including some young players from the Maine Academy of Modern Music.)

The name is in keeping with his approach of talking to young people in their own language. "I've always kind of tried to touch on serious issues in a relateable manner," he says — not shying away from being "brutal and honest." He definitely doesn't want to "talk down to the kids like it's a high school assembly."

That said, the 27-year-old has matured since his earlier, more flamboyant work, and while he still uses rap's approach and stylings, he's more careful about his language now: "I try not to use 'bitch' too often," Spose says.

Project Aware co-founder Carl Lakari says lots of words in common parlance have been "used to hurt kids," Lakari says — including "jerk" and "idiot." But kids adapt them and often co-opt their uses. (Cf. "queer," "nerd," and "geek.")

"This is their language. This is from their perspective," Lakari says, observing that he and Spose came up with four possible names for the event, the other three of which were less forward. "Without question, and with vehemence," the Project Aware kids chose "Don't Be A Douchebag."

"I took a risk," Lakari admits. "I could have stopped it, but I felt like I would have been disempowering the youth" — the very people he created the organization to serve.

It's very much along the lines of how Project Aware approaches youth service differently from other organizations. For example, there's the 35-minute dramatic short April's Heart, filmed by the film club at Sanford High School, released in 2010 and showing raw and unfiltered scenes of teenage life in today's world.

Lakari says his goal is to "allow youth to have a voice . . . without judgment" — which at times means having open conversations among teens and adults about boundaries, consequences, and risky behavior.

Spose approves: "Their videos were brutal and hard-core and they weren't flowery and After-School Specials," he says of what attracted him to work with the group. "That's what kids are really going through."

In response — and in recognition — Spose promises to deliver "a full all-ages set that's not scaled-back and boring" on Saturday. And on Friday evening from 6 to 7 pm on WCYY (94.3 FM), he and Lakari and several teens will be on the air with Mark Curdo to talk about the issues facing teens.

Deliver a big blow to bullies everywhere: Listen on the radio, and head to the show.

'DON'T BE A DOUCHEBAG' | benefit for Project Aware | with Spose, Dean Ford, Better Than, God.Damn.Chan, Steiner Street, Running Gags, Beware of Pedestrians | October 13 @ 1-5 pm | Asylum, 121 Center St, Portland | $5, all ages

The Outsiders: Also on the ballot, and making good points

Published in the Portland Phoenix

Three candidates you haven't heard a lot about from the mainstream media are, nevertheless, running for US Senate. Danny Dalton, Andrew Ian Dodge, and Steve Woods are perhaps like the much-maligned but ultimately more heroic Greasers gang in the classic SE Hinton novel The Outsiders. They're not polished, refined campaigners or politicians — and they definitely lack the slicker appeal of the more popular and seemingly successful crew that Hinton called the Socials. But each of these underdogs has noteworthy credentials, experience, and ideas. In fact, if you think standard politicos are part of the problems in Washington, you might consider taking these men more seriously than the Big Three. They're certainly more likely to "stay gold," maintaining their philosophies and political stances upon arriving at the Senate.

STEVE WOODS,THE ENTREPRENEUR

In the sprawling Falmouth building that houses his privately owned mini-conglomerate, Woods laughs at the irony of being a marketing executive running on what he calls an "anonymity platform." Then he rails against mainstream media — specifically the Portland Press Herald — for failing to cover his campaign adequately. He has a point: While the press talk with King, Summers, and Dill about health-care issues, one of Woods's firms is actively engaged with big players in the health industry, giving him broad perspective. (He supports the Affordable Care Act, not as a finish line, but as a starting point.)

But rather than elaborate, he moves on, observing that when the press talk with the Big Three about energy and environmental issues, perhaps they might want to talk to a guy who has a solar-powered office campus (complete with electric-car charging station), a rainwater-reclaiming roof, and a green-living marketing firm, Viridescence. He might have something to say on those topics, too.

If only he weren't so upset that when talk turns to jobs, nobody calls him — "I've created 100 jobs here" and invested millions in Maine as part owner of the Maine Red Claws, and as a partner in the Thompson's Point redevelopment project, he says. He complains that high taxes and onerous government regulations have made running small businesses harder than ever.

Which reminds him that democracy is on the wane ("woe is the republic" is a frequent refrain), and that civic involvement is dropping, and that elected officials are incompetent and —

Well, that's the real problem. Listening to Steve Woods talk is like drinking from a firehose. There's delicious, refreshing substance that can bring great relief and growth, but There's. Just. So. Much. Of. It.

Perhaps it's the relentless drive — and let's say it, passion — that has landed him at what he terms the "kids' table" of this US Senate race. It could be his own admission that "I probably entered the process a little naively," expecting a more level media playing field. Maybe it's his idealism about American civic obligation.

"Public service is a privilege," Woods says. He's serious when he says he won't accept the $174,000 salary a senator receives, and will seek to have it sent directly from the US Treasury to several Maine-based charities.

It's a way to achieve his goal — which is not to change history (he thinks none of the candidates will), but to "change the dialogue, and . . . to change democracy in America," bringing civic engagement back from the cliff of cynicism.

But this wish is tempered with a harder reality, such as when he condemns today's broken political system with lines like "institutional lying has become part of the fabric of our political system" and accuses not just the leaders but also the followers of failing to protect the American experiment. "In effect, it's all our fault," he says, following that with an admission that it's an uphill slog to seek votes from people while telling them they're the problem.

ANDREW IAN DODGE, THE RABBLE-ROUSER

Dodge got into this race because of a promise to his father, who died shortly afterward. A Maine Tea Party Patriot coordinator whose vow to drive Olympia Snowe from office failed to win him the Republican primary, Dodge declared independency after the loss and has tried to wax more libertarian (including speaking recently before a USM appearance of Libertarian Party veep candidate James Gray) while keeping his ultra-conservative but very personable campaign going for the November election.

Dodge's conversation is punctuated with an occasional English-accented word or turn of phrase, recalling his work for, as he describes them, "unsuccessful" UK parliament races, as well as his time studying at the University of Hull in Yorkshire, almost 20 years ago. He regularly refers to his studies — which also include a 1989 BA in political science from Colby College — as qualifications for his Senate run.

His is an off-beat effort, perhaps most obviously distinct from most candidacies by its bright-yellow comic-book "kapow" logo. Dodge embraces this aesthetic, even "opening" for a trio of metal bands in Gardiner the night after the USM event.

"I'm perfectly happy to say things that piss people off," he says — and so he does, not shying away from taking fairly absolutist stands, and brooking little moderation. He rejects the idea that humans are influencing global climate change, thinks Paul Ryan's budget-reform plan does not go far enough in cutting federal services and spending, and would abolish the federal Department of Education. He opposes the Affordable Care Act and objects to federal funding of any kind for Planned Parenthood (even for non-abortion services). He's against raising taxes on the rich, and instead promotes a "flat" tax system — as well as the dramatically reduced federal spending such a system would mean. He wants to expand NAFTA and lower barriers to trade with other English-speaking countries. At the same time, he wants to "de-fund the UN and suggest it move elsewhere" from its current New York home.

Endorsed by the Libertarian Party of Maine, he also is in favor of some left-wing causes: same-sex marriage, food sovereignty, and marijuana legalization. On immigration — his wife is English — he favors easing the legal arrival of skilled workers while wanting "strong border defenses," as his website words it. He wants to slash military funding, too, and eliminate all forms of corporate welfare.

And his logic is generally consistent — if at times arriving at politically questionable suggestions. Government is too big, and should be dramatically reduced, he argues, returning direct exercise of sovereignty to the people (or, if collective action is necessary, the states). That includes privatizing Social Security and Medicare, programs he has claimed are poorly managed and wasteful despite their overwhelming effectiveness and popularity among citizens of all political stripes.

He doesn't think much of traditional politicians, though, and sums up his competition this way: "I find it hard to believe that I'll be any more of a pretentious ass than some of the others who are running."

DANNY DALTON,THE EX-COP

Dalton's a details man, as you might expect from a former Drug Enforcement Administration agent who spent more than a decade chasing narcotics cartels across the globe. Also a former Air Force and Army serviceman, Dalton's approach is bold and direct.

For example, this question: "Why are we bothering to spend $700 billion on a military that can't win a war?" Much of his campaign energy is spent talking about waste and incompetence in government agencies, specifically law-enforcement and military organizations. He has reams of allegations on the tip of his tongue, with sometimes-excruciatingly exhaustive explanations.

There's also his work history. He left the DEA in 2005, objecting to ineptitude he saw throughout the government. And then he went to work for the State and Defense departments, at least some of the time as an employee of Blackwater, the controversial paramilitary company that was ultimately expelled by the Iraqi government and fined by the US State Department for misconduct, including alleged illegal arms dealing.

After seeing even more fraud, waste, and incompetence (the three may be his favorite words, he uses them so much), in 2008 he apparently became some sort of international private investigator. That effort was funded with his own money and did, he says, a better job investigating terrorists and drug-traffickers than the federal agencies tasked to do that work, including those for which he used to work.

Upon offering the information he and his network uncovered to top-level federal agents, he found himself rebuffed. (It's unclear whether that was related to his requests for reimbursement for the expenses he incurred — which he says are minuscule when compared with the costs of supporting a uniformed American soldier in an overseas combat zone.) So he took his complaints elsewhere, seeking audiences with Senators Olympia Snowe and Susan Collins. He met with their staffs, but says he was never able to talk to either of the women directly. In any case, they didn't want his information either, he says, and referred him to some of the agencies that had already declined his information.

This led him to enter the Senate race, accusing both Snowe and Collins of failing in their duties as elected officials by refusing to even look at what he was presenting.

At the same time, he took advantage of basically every chance opportunity to present US law-enforcement personnel with what he had learned. He tells the story of being stopped at a border crossing, and then trying to hand over a dossier of information on the whereabouts of an alleged Taliban commander in Afghanistan — to a Border Patrol supervisor near Canada. He continues to profess amazement that the officer was uninterested in his data.

It may stick in his craw because for a time he worked for the Department of Homeland Security's effort to get law-enforcement agencies to share information better. But he views it as part of something much larger: "That's the problem — the two parties. Everything else is a symptom of that problem," he says.

Press releases: Mistrust

Published in the Portland Phoenix

The Gallup polling company last week released a report saying Americans' trust in the mass media hit a new low this year. The survey results, which have a four-percent margin of error, show that 40 percent of Americans have either a "great deal" or a "fair amount" of trust in "newspapers, TV, and radio," while the remaining 60 percent have "not very much" or "none at all." That's lower than any time since Gallup began polling on the question in 1972.

What's most alarming — for those of us in the media business, at least — is that a mere 8 percent of Americans have a "great deal" of trust in the media. So 23 out of 25 Americans have somewhere between a little and zero trust in the people, companies, and organizations that claim to be expending great effort and sums of money in attempts to be honest and trustworthy.

How's that for a bad job-performance score?

The Gallup report goes on to say that "Media sources must clearly do more to earn the trust of Americans" — which must strike mainstream newsrooms as a serious blow, since most American journalism outfits have been striving for many years to improve transparency and increase consumer confidence, including hiring ombudsmen and having top editors write columns about the news process.

Gallup says "This is particularly consequential at a time when Americans need to rely on the media to learn about the platforms and perspectives of the two candidates vying to lead the country for the next four years."

But Gallup's own analysis gives us a view into exactly how dire are the consequences of media misinformation. For one thing, there are more than two viable presidential candidates: Green Jill Stein and Libertarian Gary Johnson are on enough state ballots that either could potentially achieve the winning tally of 270 electoral-college votes.

And second, Gallup presumes that Americans are getting, should get, and need to get a significant amount of information about the presidential campaign through the news media. That's no longer a safe assumption at all.

A Google report on political decision-making (released in July) said that for half of voters, comparing candidates online helped make their voting decisions. (The report didn't specify on what sites, but then a part of the impetus for Google's study was to promote the company's Internet-wide campaign-advertising services.)

Further, one-third of voters hadn't watched TV in the previous week — and even those who were watching TV weren't giving it their undivided attention: 80 percent of smartphone owners used their phones while watching TV. The Google report also said people spend more time on their mobile devices than with newspapers and magazines combined.

Of course, at least some of what people are looking at online and on their mobiles may in fact be electronic versions of traditional news media. (Google's report said 90 percent of tablet users get news on their tablet that they used to access "in other ways.")

But there's much, much more online, including material people find and share themselves. A report earlier this month from the Pew Internet and American Life Project showed the strong influence of social-network sites on people's efforts to keep up with political news: 36 percent of social-networkers say the sites help them that way, and 25 percent say they debate and discuss political issues online (plus or minus 2 percent).

And the Internet will only get more influential. Minorities — blacks and Hispanics (who are poised, together, to become a majority in the US) — say they find social-networking sites even more useful for keeping up on political news than whites; younger people (who will get older and find their views more prevalent as those who disagree expire) say so at a higher rate than all social-network users.

All of which is to say that if people mistrust the mainstream media now, and are increasingly seeking out alternative sources of information and finding it influential, those reporters and editors and managers whose jobs it is to make themselves truthful and useful to the public really have their work cut out for them.

In my rights mind: Using the Constitution’s protections — all at once

Published in the Portland Phoenix

On the occasion of this week's 225th birthday of the US Constitution, I wanted to embrace our culture's all-or-nothing ethos, by not just exercising all of my Constitutional rights, but using as many as possible all at once. I got to do that, but I also met a person who was using those rights in a much more important way than for the sake of a news story.

It's become commonplace today to hear people — especially those in public office — talking a good game about the Constitution. But let's be honest: Almost nobody in elected office has used many important rights in the document they take an oath to uphold. How come? Easy: If you hold an elected office, it's a near certainty that you've never been arrested for anything — and a whole swath of Constitutional rights only really get a workout when the government's trying to exercise its power to take away your freedom.

I wanted to figure out what's there — and what's not; the Ninth Amendment reminds us that people have rights that aren't listed in the Constitution, that still need to be respected. But shelves and shelves of books have been written interpreting flowery formal 18th-century language and centuries of ensuring court rulings; I wanted to stick as closely as possible to the actual exercise of the rights, though theoretical what-ifs are never far away.

Determining specific protections is not necessarily a political or philosophical controversy. People who believe in reading the Constitution literally will agree that what qualifies as "speech" involves lots more than the sounds made by passing air through human vocal cords — it includes writing, advertising, product packaging, and all forms of art. It even includes other forms of expression, as we saw last year in several Occupy-related lawsuits (including in Maine), where judges found that the act of living in a tent on public land was a legitimate message that should be protected from undue government interference. (But as those rulings also spelled out, there are no rights that are completely absolute and utterly free from government intervention. In the Occupy cases, usually it was the government's duty to enforce sanitation and fire-safety rules that ended up trumping the protesters' rights to express themselves through tent villages.)

Armed with my research, and a checklist of my rights, I set out to Monument Square to give them some exercise.

FREE SPEECH

Kathleen Johnson, a Portland mother of five, was sitting on the Congress Street side of the curbing around the monument of "Portland to her sons who died for the Union," holding a sign reading "Stop Maine's DHHS from stealing our kids! They lie to take them and they create more lies to keep them!" Her view, critical of a government agency (the state Department of Health and Human Services), is protected under the First Amendment.

In North Africa on the same day as I spoke with Johnson, riots flashed around US and other Western embassies and diplomatic missions, clashes that had already cost the lives of four Americans, including the US ambassador to Libya. Relatively inexperienced with speech not authorized by a government (after decades under dictatorship), protesters objected to a film insulting the Prophet Muhammad — by targeting the government of the country from which that film had originated. Here, by contrast, we assume that if something is published, it hasn't gone through a government censor (unless it's actually issued by the government, whose censors are often — and often laughably — called "public information officers").

Free speech seems simple: Have a thought, an opinion, a piece of information, a concept, or any other tidbit — and say it. Or write it, or sing it, or paint about it, or camp in a park about it. Or do nothing: Your right to remain silent is here, too. Free speech doesn't mean free of consequences, though. There are legal limits, such as criminal and civil penalties after the speech has occurred for incitement to riot, threats, slander, and libel; private jurisdiction — which is how malls can ban pamphleteers; and hate-crime limits, which in Maine mean an assault can become more serious if there are racial, gender, or sexual-orientation epithets hurled along with punches. But the most important free-speech restrictions to the people I spoke with (and to me personally, as I reflected) were social, not legal: the risk of alienating friends or relatives, of being seen to have bad manners or poor taste. In extreme cases of national security or other serious danger, the government can seek to prevent you from speaking.

This shouldn't silence people with legitimate points of view that simply differ from government perspectives — and indeed, Johnson says she has met several supporters as a result of her sign, which she displays in Monument Square a few days a week for a couple hours at a time, in between other obligations.

FREE PRESS

What she's doing would have, in colonial days, also qualified for protection under the First Amendment's provision of a free press ("speech" still meant the vocal kind then): She had created a sign and was displaying it in public. Today that extends to online expression as well as many forms of news media (though notably not TV or radio stations that use the public airwaves; the government regulates the users of that public resource to ensure it is, at least broadly, used for the public good). It can also be limited, in extreme circumstances, by interests of national security, though usually government officials use persuasive power, rather than coercive effort, to forestall publication of sensitive information.

FREE EXERCISE OF RELIGION

As I sat speaking with Johnson, I noticed that while holding the sign, she had been reading a copy of the Koran. Her fiancé is Muslim, and she says she finds "a lot of peace" in the Koran, as well as many familiar stories of Biblical figures, such as Abraham (Ibrahim), Noah (Nuh), Moses (Musa), and Jesus (Isa). Her freedom to do this, despite the fact that some leading politicians of the day express hostility toward Islam, is protected by the First Amendment, too. The government can neither tell you what religion to practice, nor prevent you from practicing whatever religion you choose. This includes not only mainstream religions with billions of followers, but also Zoroastrians, Baha'is, and even members of the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster. It also protects atheists from being forced to practice any religion at all. The increasingly desperate anti-abortion movement has recently tried to use this as an excuse to avoid doing things they'd prefer not to (such as operate companies that must offer workers health-care coverage that includes contraception). Of course, there's a balancing test here: the workers' right to personal privacy is a strong counterweight.

PEACEABLE ASSEMBLY

As Johnson and I conversed, we were exercising our right of peaceable assembly. From 1715 to 1967, it was law in England that any gathering of 12 or more people could be forcibly broken up if the authorities did two things: 1) claim (truthfully or otherwise) that it was an unlawful or unruly group, and 2) read the group the Riot Act (this is the origin of the idiom), specifically the following text: "Our Sovereign Lord the King chargeth and commandeth all persons, being assembled, immediately to disperse themselves, and peaceably to depart to their habitations, or to their lawful business, upon the pains contained in the act made in the first year of King George, for preventing tumults and riotous assemblies. God Save the King!" In hopes of heading off this sort of thing from continuing in the colonies, the Founding Fathers specified this right.

PETITION FOR REDRESS OF GRIEVANCES

Johnson is also engaged in a legal process of seeking the return of her children from foster care. She has done this through letters and phone calls to various officials in DHHS; her right to do this, as well as her protection from reprisals or retribution for making those complaints, is also protected by the First Amendment.

EQUAL PROTECTION UNDER LAW

What Johnson was complaining about being denied, and what she was seeking with her communications with DHHS officials, was equal protection under the law, first introduced in Article IV, Section 2, but further codified in the Fourteenth Amendment in 1868. This right requires government to treat all people fairly in official proceedings, with reference to evidence and proper procedure.

SECURITY 'IN PERSONS, HOUSES, PAPERS, AND EFFECTS'

This Fourth Amendment right also plays into Johnson's situation: She objects that government agents were prying into her family's business unnecessarily. This right is often construed as the "right to privacy" (though that word never appears in the Constitution), or, as future Supreme Court Associate Justice Louis Brandeis put it in an 1890 Harvard Law Review paper, "the right to be let alone." As a state-approved caregiver for an elderly person, she accepts home visits from that person's state caseworker with no problem. But when a child-protective caseworker visited her home as a result of complaints from a neighbor, Johnson objected. There are, of course, limits to this individual right — such as when the well-being of a vulnerable person is in question, or when police officers swear out search warrants, seeking a judge's permission to enter private premises in the process of enforcing the law.

REFUSAL TO QUARTER SOLDIERS

Neither Johnson nor I consented to allowing soldiers to live in our homes. Little used today, this Third Amendment right was included specifically in response to the British colonial government's imposition of troops on civilian populations, which were at times punished for disloyalty by being forced to house and feed imperial soldiers.

KEEP AND BEAR ARMS

I was exercising one right Johnson wasn't, one provided for in the Second Amendment. I had secured a weapon — it was actually a pellet gun powered by compressed air, but it was a replica of a Walther P99 semi-automatic handgun and definitely looked real, to co-workers as well as people I encountered.

With the help of a very friendly firearms salesman named John, I went through almost the entire process of purchasing a handgun, including completing a very thorough (and very sternly worded) electronic questionnaire about my identity, any history of commitment to a mental institution, and several aspects of criminal history. (I wondered whether alarm bells would start ringing if I answered "Yes" to the question "Are you a fugitive from justice?" but didn't indulge my curiosity that far.) Also required to buy a firearm is a call to the FBI, which conducts an "instant" background check (it can take several minutes, and if they encounter an anomaly, they can delay answering for a while). If things check out, you get to go to the cash register and complete the purchase. (I skipped that part, and went to the checkout with the pellet gun instead.) I bought a holster, too — to carry a firearm openly in public, it must be secured in a holster that is plainly visible.

The right to bear arms is one of the most politicized rights, and one of the most vaguely worded: "A well-regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed." Until 2008, whether this specifically gave individuals the right to bear arms — or whether it simply allowed states to maintain militias — had never been ruled upon by the Supreme Court. In a case about a Washington DC handgun ban, though, the court ruled that it is an individual right that cannot be outlawed completely. Nevertheless, there are plenty of limits on their ownership, including minimum ages (18 for rifles and shotguns, 21 for handguns), government-issued photo ID, background checks (to prevent felons, people with domestic-violence convictions, and people who have been committed to mental institutions from buying guns), and strict regulations about when, where, and how a firearm can be carried. Concealed weapons may not be carried without a government-issued permit, and even weapons carried openly must be secured in a holster except in the case of urgent life threats.

In part because of the exceptional nature of firearms — they can indeed be used to kill humans, in addition to hunting and sport shooting — an unwritten code of manners has emerged in society. Jeff Weinstein, president of the Maine Gun Owners Association, told me he rarely cares to carry a gun openly, because he views it as an unnecessary act of aggression. Just as we don't exercise free speech by walking around insulting everyone we meet, or spewing profanities just because we can, in some circles — including public spaces in New England — Weinstein urges people to use what might be called good Second Amendment manners. Wearing a gun openly is legal and Constitutionally protected, but still shifts the power dynamic around interpersonal interactions. Sure enough, some people abruptly changed their path through Monument Square to avoid walking near me; others walked by as usual, but kept a weather eye on my hip.

Also because of their unique power-shifting nature, law enforcement are more attuned to the presence of guns than, say, posters or protest signs. We have written about Portland police stopping people legally carrying firearms in public (see sidebar, and "Open-Carry Activist Takes to the Streets," by Deirdre Fulton, June 22). I had no such problems, though several police officers saw my weapon.

One conducted a traffic stop in the middle of Monument Square, questioning the driver of a commercial truck that was parked just feet from me. While he pulled his patrol car up a very short distance away from me, on the side I was wearing the holster, and walked past me twice, the first officer I was certain saw it didn't bat an eye, and didn't approach me. A bicycle cop rode through the square, passing directly behind me and to the side. Several officers drove past in cars at various times when I was near the Congress Street edge of the square. One officer — perhaps summoned by a call from a concerned citizen — walked through the square, up to the monument, and looked around as if searching for something. When he spotted me a few feet away, he turned and walked past me, clearly eyeballing the gun. But even so, he didn't approach me to ask for any identification or information about the weapon.

DUE PROCESS

Had an officer approached me, I was ready. Many rights only come into play when the fearsome muscles of government power get flexed. The government, after all, can take away your freedom (by jailing you), your property (by confiscating it or fining you), and even in extreme cases your life (by executing you). Under this Fifth Amendment protection from the federal government, expanded by the Fourteenth Amendment to include protection from state and local authorities, there are rules about how government authority can be used, and officials' failure to follow them is a Constitutional violation.

Importantly, these rights apply not only to American citizens, but to any person brought before a court in the US — which affects treatment of people who are undocumented immigrants or alleged terrorists captured overseas.

There is an aspect of the equal protection right as well, to ensure that people facing accusations of similar crimes also face similar processes and similar punishments.

HABEAS CORPUS

The first aspect of my plan in case of a police encounter was to invoke this right, noted in Article I, Section 9, with origins in England in the 1200s or 1300s. It allows a person to challenge the legality of detention or imprisonment. At this stage of events, I would need no formal process, but would simply ask, "Am I free to leave?" (Later stages would involve requesting a judge hold a hearing in which the government agency that had ordered my detention to explain why I was being held. Fortunately, those stages were not necessary.)

A police officer may detain you under certain circumstances (such as if you are a suspect in a crime or a possible witness), but requires actual legal authority to do so; asking if I was free to leave would have required the officer to either tell me I was (in which case I'd walk away) or articulate why I wasn't. (If the officer refuses to answer the question, it's better to ask again — even several times — than assume the answer is "Yes" and just walk away. Cops carry weapons, remember, and are allowed to use them if they believe they are in danger, even from a person walking away.)

RIGHT TO A FAIR TRIAL

Had I not been free to leave — and, in fact, been detained, summoned to court at a future date, or outright arrested — the government would have to protect my right to a fair trial, with parts provided in the Fifth and Sixth Amendments.

It's a blanket phrase for what really are a wide swath of rights intended to level the playing field between a lowly individual and the mighty government, by ensuring (alongside the right of due process) that anyone hauled to court has certain basic protections.

Had I been charged and tried, I would have afforded myself of the presumption of innocence (unless and until proven guilty) — I would have argued that I was doing nothing wrong, and the government would have had to prove that I was. Though I could choose to represent myself, I likely would have availed myself of the help of an attorney (depending on income level, taxpayers may foot the bill as part of a societal duty to protect this right in criminal cases). I would have sought a jury trial, held in public, at which I could hear my accusers' charges and testimony, and offer my own evidence.

I could have remained silent in my own defense throughout the entire process — including during the initial encounter with police, where the officer would have had to provide a legal reason for demanding my name and ID, or I would have refused to give it. If I chose not to remain silent on some issues, I could nevertheless refuse to answer some questions or reveal some information for fear I might incriminate myself.

Johnson was also using this right in her civil case (as opposed to my hypothetical criminal proceeding). She is seeking a pro-bono attorney for her October hearing before a judge in family court, at which she will present evidence in support of her argument, and ask a judge to order DHHS to return her children to her from their foster families.

NO CRUEL OR UNUSUAL PUNISHMENT

Specifically created by the Founders to outlaw the gruesome practices of English criminal law (look up a description for hanging, drawing, and quartering while you consider having your corpse chopped), this Eighth Amendment protection would have kept me (if convicted) from some of the more horrible practices of incarceration that have been practiced throughout history around the world. It has been the basis for prison reform ever since, including extending medical care to sick inmates, and in some jurisdictions limiting the practice of solitary confinement.

VOTING RIGHTS

Though it's the last right I'm covering here, voting is the first right conferred on individuals in the Constitution. But it is obliquely referenced, appearing as more of an implication than anything explicit. Here's the language from Article I, Section 2: "The House of Representatives shall be composed of Members chosen every second Year by the People of the several States."

The means by which that choosing would occur is left to Section 4: "The Times, Places and Manner of holding Elections for Senators and Representatives, shall be prescribed in each State by the Legislature thereof."

This left open — and outside the realm of the Constitution itself — the extremely important question of who should be allowed to vote. The states were free to determine each for itself who constituted "the People." No doubt some of the Founding Fathers never expected minorities, women, or even free men who did not own property to vote. If other Founding Fathers imagined, or even hoped, that the franchise would be extended, they would have remained quiet, letting the vagueness provide the opening for the future. Indeed, though not explicitly excluded from the Constitution, enough states barred African Americans, women, people who could not afford poll taxes, and 18-year-olds that each of those groups needed its own Constitutional amendment before casting a ballot (the Fifteenth, Nineteenth, Twenty-Fourth, and Twenty-Sixth, respectively).

People do have to register to vote, including proving residency in the district where they intend to cast a ballot. And, obviously, each person can vote only once per election. Kathleen Johnson plans to vote in November. I do too.