P. 60 Most courts would not recognize the practices we describe here as banishment. They generally allow spacial restrictions when imposed as a condition of parole or probation, and do not consider exclusion from a neighborhood or area of the city to constitute banishment.

The authors might have lead with this caveat, since it undermines the premise of most of their book.

The authors also feel the need to put quotations around terms like “disorder” (i.e., public urination, drinking, panhandling and sleeping out) and employ euphemistic terms like unhoused in lieu of homeless, much as certain advocates employ the term undocumented to refer to people who have illegally circumvented immigration requirements. Banishment itself is a term used incorrectly for effect, but few conceits make for more tedious reading than the constant misuse of “allegedly” with opinions of others.

Although written in an academic and quasi-legal tone by two professors at the University of Washington, the footnoting has some curious deficiencies. Certain statements like, “SPD officers are generally instructed not to report ethnicity/Hispanic background” are stated as fact with no footnoting at all. Gross methodological flaws are also briefly confessed then arguments proceed on.

The authors are not even comfortable admitting that ordinances they disagree with are desired by a large portion of Seattle’s population. They hedge their bets with language hinting that it’s not a valid desire for safe neighborhoods, but rather commercial interests seeking unimpeded profits or predominantly Caucasian citizens who want enforcement as a form of social control over people of color.

As a resident and property-owner in the downtown area they use as their primary focus, I can only shake my head at this and think, “what chumps!” What is minor disorder to the authors, who likely live in some safer suburb of Seattle, is a daily public-safety struggle as I walk home through drug deals and use and am aggressively hustled for money. I’ve had my building trespassed for car prowls and by people trying to sleep in the stairwells or on the roof. Our “broken windows” include rampant vandalism, garbage strewn by dumpster divers and discarded high percentage alcohol containers and needles in the public easement known as the Union Steps. Neither the low-income housing on our block nor the high-profile convention center do their part to report illegal activity even when done flagrantly in broad daylight or in the park they’re supposed to control after dark.

Our state attracts people who are living in this country illegally because agencies refuse to cooperate with federal immigration regulation agencies. We have permissive practices like issuing drivers licenses without proof of citizenship. Our city’s liberalism leads our mayors to declare typical northwest winters “emergencies” and to even create special housing for people who violate the drug and alcohol requirements in other public housing! We also have more than 1000 registered sex offenders whose addresses are simply “homeless” not being properly supervised by authorities.

When citizens live in fear of retribution, or reach a degree of apathy after their efforts are met with constant accusations of racism, the result is chaos. SPD is not exerting massive social control, on the contrary, they are losing the battle for public safety despite creative attempts to make policing more effective.

This is a fascinating look at progressive early literacy teaching from New Zealand in the early 1960s. It combines tremendous insight into how children learn with overtly racist descriptions of students and classroom interactions. Despite some diary entries that will make your stomach flip over, this is an interesting book. It made me reassess my view of western children’s books.

I wanted to love this book. It does break down and present many aspects of the art and industry of comic books, but something is missing. I was disappointed that not a single woman was featured in the insider profiles and the majority of the illustrations were typical superhero fare. Likewise, the language in the text is not inclusive. “An artist depicting that scene has to sift though the language, find that emotional content and pull it to the surface – dramatizing it as effectively and clearly as he can.” Now I know that some of you will say “he or she” gets cumbersome, but there are multiple examples of this throughout and cumulatively it has a door-slamming effect. The phrase that bothered me most was the use of “Nicely done, Mr. Artist.” making the hypothetical future artist male for no reason at all. Maybe it’s wishful thinking that an “insider’s guide” from a former Marvel editor would address this, but I’ll take Scott McCloud’s vision of increasingly diverse representation over Andy Schmidt’s boys’ club any day.

Sadly, despite being a recovering alcoholic, the author spends the most of the book trying to sound like his binge drinking, freeloading days were a good time, justified by his career choice, and not really so detrimental to those around him. He finally overcomes his fear of “becoming boring” and gets help.