Perhaps we have reason to thank Russia – for the DNC hacks, the election meddling – and so much more.  But principally for revealing ourselves to ourselves.  Helping us in the USA, finally, take off the “cloak of innocence” that so many have worn since our nation’s beginnings. That is, the willing ignorance about parts of our history, such as Native American genocide or the unprosecuted lynchings of the Jim Crow era. The lack of accountability for how our behaviors have had consequences for others or for the environment. And, to some extent, a basic refusal to deal with a reality that calls to question some of our illusions of freedom and prosperity, aka, the American dream. For all the achievements and innovation of the American culture, there is a stubborn denial of the true costs. Ta-Nahisi Coates calls it the “plundering” of land and bodies and environment – the taking for gain without regard for harm to others or our collective future.
 
We have Russia to thank for showing us that our cyber-intelligence is not so first rate as we might have thought. Some of the major discoveries of governmental email hacking came out of AP reporters' investigations, not the FBI – which moved slowly to notify victims well after they knew.  We can thank Russia for showing that America is not as savvy, desperate or innovative in knowing how to undermine elections.  We never even guessed what they might be up to – too naïve, it seems.
 
We have Russia to thank for showing us that our social media companies were very capable of looking the other way when new users with Russian names and/or addresses, opened accounts, bought advertising and started posting “fake news” during the last presidential election. According to an article in the Boston Globe, “Facebook has acknowledged that more than 126 million users may have seen inflammatory political ads bought by a Russian company, The Internet Research Agency.”
 
 Russia helped us to see that many users of Facebook, Twitter and Instagram, as well as visitors to other websites, are not likely to question assertions or check sources before responding and/or sharing false information. Is it any consolation that the Russians did the same thing in Great Britain at the time of the Brexit vote – also very close, also could have gone the other way? Pretty much, both elections stolen out from under our feet, as we were waiting and hoping and casting our votes, heedless of the danger.
 
We have Russia to thank for showing us that our own politicians were ready, if not complicit, in riding the waves of bad information, rumors, and outright lies.  The plutocrats of post-Communist Russia were able to connect with and enable American plutocrats to be bolder and braver, more explicit in getting what they want. And to use their leadership to inspire fiercer, more virulent language and behavior in their followers, hoping to share the spoils or avoid the targettng.
 
Mainly, the Russian interference revealed, but did not cause, the underlying racism of American society.  Yes, significant progress has been made, but not without a “backlash” of bias and violence against people of color or different religions. America, being a patchwork of cultures and ethnic groups, has always had frictions and tensions related to assimilation or accommodation, but mostly, gradually, freedoms and rights have spread across populations.  Until they haven’t.  Progress is not inevitable, and can be reversed, at least in the short term. 
 
Those clever Russians, they got us this time. Caught snoozing. But for what reason? What’s their end game? It’s not clear to me what the long-range agenda might be – except to weaken the USA and the EU, creating an atmosphere more beneficial for plutocrats to consolidate their own trans-global power.  Or, is it that they want to shake the grip of American dominance that has prevailed over the last half-century? Is it “against” something, rather than for?  America may not have been quite as exceptional in all ways as we might have hoped or thought, truth be told. For it's own purposes, Russia has been kind enough to hold up a mirror for us to look at ourselves – not always a pleasing image.
 
The potential for true greatness in America -- in freeing the creative energy of the greatest number of people in the greatest number of possible situations is not lost – yet – unless we allow the plunderers to continue, by not doing our part in holding them accountable.

Even dead a couple hundred years, Jane Austen has legions of fans. I’m jealous. For a woman author from the 1700’s who didn’t get a lot of support or recognition in her own lifetime, her brand has endured and grown…into a literary empire as well as movie and TV industry.  Good for you, Jane!
 
Gentle readers, you may well appreciate Jane Austen, but you don’t know Jane like I know Jane.  I like to think of us as sisters, almost, sharing a special bond….of writing (at least trying) and also “genteel poverty”. That’s the kind of poverty you were not born into, but spent time in after some kind of disaster wrecked your comfortable middle-class existence.  In our case, both of us lost fathers who were educated and respectable gentlemen. With our dads went the family’s main source of income and the loss of financial security and certain opportunities. We both spent time living with other relatives and we both struggled to figure out our place in the world…and how to get by.  
 
As it turns out, Jane’s brother eventually was able to help out financially, and Jane went on to produce classic literature (although she got little benefit from that).  She never married nor had children. I paid my way through college and spent some time perusing my theater dreams, living on my own, supporting myself with a variety of jobs, pretty much living hand to mouth until I became more financial secure through marriage (my husband and I were fairly equal wage earners in our early years, but he soon outdistanced me after the children were born). My other siblings did not have it easy, but chose more prudent employment or achieved financial security through military service.
 
Of course, two hundred years apart, separated by 3,000 miles, Jane and I did not live identical existences.  In her writing, she had a keen eye for social customs and manners that dominated her world.  As a contemporary American, I was less tuned into those kind distinctionss, until I began so see how truly prevalent they are, in spite of what we tell ourselves. It’s our little secret, Jane’s and mine, that the American dream, like the British, can capsize and sink just as easily as it rises, and often does. It’s no coincidence that a modern rendition of Jane’s stories are the “cozies” – Agatha Christie style murder mysteries, where a chief motive for murder is inheritance. No sociopaths here, just “rational” upper middle-class individuals in utter terror of losing their identities – tied to their income and socio-economic status. Truly, a whites-only affliction.
 
In Jane’s day, there was a stark future for spinsters who did not marry well.  Or, an emotional prison for those who did marry, but not well.  For a woman today, society is still structured so that men are better paid and less expected to be caregivers.  If a woman with young children is divorced or widowed, she must still somehow find means of income AND cover childcare. The math does not add up. There is a modicum of aid through government programs, but none is designed for comfort, only for getting by. Some women will still marry for financial security, but that is uncertain in a day of high divorce and insecure employment. I know personally several educated white women with brains, skills and experience who have ended up in tough financial straights due to divorce/widowhood and caregiving responsibilities. It still happens, not infrequently. Welcome, my sisters, to the world of “genteel poverty”.
 
OK, my poverty was never quite as “genteel” as Jane’s – it had to be more rough and tumble being out in the world. I took lots of sh** jobs to pay my rent and expenses.  At one time, I explored donating my womb as a surrogate parent – the $10,000 fee was very enticing, but I just couldn’t do it—too genteel, I guess.
 
What was hardest for me, I think, was what was hardest for Jane: putting on a good front, that nice smile, when everything at home was falling apart.  Of course, you had to use good manners, speak well, and to go along with what was socially expected. But the other part of you is thinking desperately, “Will they see these run-down shoes? How will I pay this bill?  I haven’t eaten a good, square meal in weeks and months.”  What about when my “date’s” family discovers I’m from a “broken home” without money of my own – will they think I’m a “gold-digger?
 
Sometimes, a nice girl like me (and Jane) would just like to curse the world, and run off to hide under our blankets with a good book.  Or, we’d like to write out stories of how it all turns out fine for the good-hearted, deserving people.  The prick of discomfort, of worry, and of having known a better life is what turns us inward and burns inside our breasts. If we should ever meet in the afterlife, Jane and I, I expect we’ll have a lot to talk about.