Head Start is at Risk
  October 30, 2025 Happy Halloween eve, Meteor ghouls, Anyone sporting any super cool costumes this weekend? I’m dressing in the same one I wore last year: exhausted mom whose sanity relies entirely on very long showers. Or maybe I’ll join the fray and dress up as Rumi.  I KNOW YOU DIDN'T THINK I WOULD DRESS UP AS STAGE RUMI. SWEATPANT RUMI FOR THE WIN. In today’s newsletter, we take a look at the larger implications of losing access to Head Start. Plus, three questions about embracing your inner crone. Goin up, Shannon Melero  WHAT'S GOING ONA much bigger picture: At the end of this week, more than 100 Head Start centers in the U.S. and Puerto Rico will not receive their funding due to the government shutdown and may have to close their doors. That could leave 58,000 children without the early education programming and meals provided by Head Start centers. In some states, closures have already begun, and communities are scrambling to fill in the childcare gap left behind. On the surface, all of this may seem like an unfortunate but temporary side effect of the shutdown—a harm that can be undone once we flip a switch and turn the government back on. But what does it look like when you zoom out ever so slightly? It looks like the slow but successful execution of Project 2025. In its entirety, we know that Project 2025, released in April 2023, is a manifesto against the poor, immigrants, and anyone else who is not a white, Christian, heterosexual, cisgendered male. Some lowlights include: reversing FDA approval of mifepristone, ending DEI programs, and eliminating the Department of Education. And, relevant to this week’s news, ending Head Start. Project 2025 claims the Head Start program has “little or no long-term academic value for children,” which is why Roger Severino (who authored this section of Project 2025) lists “Eliminate Head Start” as part of the “conservative promise.” The current shutdown is proving effective in delivering on that promise. If I’m starting to sound like a gal who wears a tin foil hat in her spare time, just take a look at the facts. The National Women’s Law Center identified targeted attacks on Head Start from the administration beginning in January and continuing every month. Another tenet of P25 and this administration is to create a scenario where more parents are staying home to raise their own children or leaving their children with relatives. In the conservative worldview, day care is for parents who simply don’t want to parent, which would make Head Start—which has been around since 1965—a key part of the problem, funded by tax dollars. It’s all connected. But the attacks on Head Start are helping to create a Grand Canyon-sized fissure between the wealthy and the working class by playing up the narrative that those with means shouldn’t be responsible for caring for those without. Conservatives have repeatedly called federal safety programs for the poor a misuse of taxpayer dollars, and Head Start and free early childhood education programs, often described as handouts by right-leaning pundits, fit perfectly into the false narrative of wealthy taxpayers being burdened by the needs of medium-to-low earners. If the cuts to federal safety programs continue, they may also serve another purpose: removing the poor from the political process. People often don’t get involved in politics when they’re spending their time hustling just to get food on the table. So it’s not just that SNAP isn’t being funded next month. It’s not just some Head Starts preparing to close. It’s not just funding shortages for WIC, the program that helps moms feed their kids. It’s all that and the increased militarized police presence in lower-income neighborhoods. It’s all that and kidnapping people of color off the streets and disappearing them into the system. It’s what Project 2025 called for. The government shutdown is simply delivering. AND:
 WHERE YOU BEEN GIRL? (VIA GETTY IMAGES)
 WEEKEND PLANS  Three Questions About...Embracing Your Crone EraIt's a thing, says Nina BargielBY BRIJANA PROOKER  COURTESY OF PENGUIN RANDOM HOUSE In the age of Ozempic and deep plane facelifts, in which every outward sign of aging is reversible as long as you have the luxury of money, author Nina Bargiel has a revolutionary idea: Embrace your crone era. It’s a spooky concept, particularly post-2020, when staring at our faces over Zoom prompted a plastic surgery boom, pushing us past body positivity and even body neutrality, all the way into mainstream body hate. But it’s Halloween, the perfect time to honor our wisdom and warts. In THE CRONE ZONE: How To Get Older With Style, Nerve and a Little Bit of Magic, children’s TV writer Bargiel, 53 (who famously wrote the bra episode of Lizzie McGuire), uses the triple goddess concept to answer a key question: what's a crone (AKA any woman over 35, according to my Instagram feed) to do? “Fuck it,” Bargiel writes. You’re a self-declared crone in your 50s. How would you describe “crone” for the modern era? So Baba Yaga has always been my bitch. Baba Yaga is the [Slavic] crone who has self-selected herself into the woods. She lives in a hut atop chicken legs. She has a terrifying fence made of human bones. When a traveler gets lost and knocks on her door, sometimes Baba Yaga eats them. And my thought is, this woman has given every indication she does not want to be bothered. So if you’re knocking on her door, and she ends up frying up your liver, you kind of deserve it, because she has made it very clear: leave her alone. For me, a crone is a woman who is sick and tired of making herself small to make other people feel comfortable. I refer to it as when your inner “fuck you” becomes your outer “fuck you.” In your book, you say, “Whether gracious grandmother or wicked witch, the crone is always cast as a woman whose best days are behind her.” What are we getting wrong about how we understand crones? The crone is overlooked and looked down upon, yet the crone is filled with magic. It’s funny because society [says] you're invisible and you're useless. But [crones also] have wisdom and power. If you think about Shakespeare and Macbeth and the three witches, I mean, they're terrifying. Like, they are hags, but they will mess you up. And I will say, [the definition of] “older women” keeps getting younger by the day. I was talking to a woman at one of my [book] signings…about my crone book, and she was like, “I need this because people are treating me this way.” She's 28 years old. I love your crone touchstones: “Wisdom, to know who we are, Knowledge, to understand what we want, and Fuck It, to do what we please.” What does “Fuck It” mean to you? [As a woman in a male-dominated writer’s room], you’ve got to be nice, you’ve got to get along. I played that [role] for a long time, and I discovered that it didn't get me any further. I would bite my tongue, and then these men wouldn't hire me again anyway. So why was I biting my tongue? I might as well just be 100% who I am. When COVID hit, and I had a divorce, and the entertainment industry was taking a bad hit, I just got sick of pretending everything was fine all the time. I sold my house [in Los Angeles] and moved in with my parents [in Illinois] and got a job working in the cheese department at Whole Foods. And there are people who are like, “You shouldn't say that because people won't take you seriously as a writer.” If people don’t take me seriously as a writer, after 25 years, after two Emmy nominations, after two Kids’ Choice Awards and a Gracie Allen Award, they were never going to take me seriously. So my Fuck It is, if you look at me as lesser because I'm part of the labor force, then I feel sorry for you, because life's gonna hit you hard. Another part of Fuck It is I am 53, and my boyfriend just turned 35, so he is 18 years younger than I am, and fuck it, I don't care. There are a lot of people that have said a lot of things, and by the way, they're mostly men. Almost every woman, when they find out, are like, “Oh, good for you, sister.” If someone's gonna try to shame me for that, fuck it. Women cannot build a hut atop chicken legs or have a fence made of human bones [like Baba Yaga]. But we can wear headphones. We can have all of these things that say, “Do not bother me,” and yet the travelers, who are usually men, still come knocking at our doors. Unfortunately, we cannot fry up their livers, but we do not have to entertain whatever it is they have to say.  Brijana Prooker is a Los Angeles-based freelance journalist and essayist covering health, gender, and culture. She's a proud pit bull and cat mama whose work has appeared in ELLE, Washington Post, Good Housekeeping, and Newsday.  FOLLOW THE METEOR     Thank you for reading The Meteor! Got this from a friend? |
Forty Million Empty Stomachs
  October 28, 2025 Greetings, Meteor readers, I voted yesterday. When are you going? Soon? Yeah? Great! May your sticker be extra adhesive. In today’s newsletter, we look at the looming SNAP cuts. Plus, Irin Carmon tells Rebecca Carroll about her new book, Unbearable: Five Women and the Perils of Pregnancy in America. Hotties vote early, Shannon Melero  WHAT'S GOING ONThe SNAP gap: This week, roughly 40 million people will not receive their scheduled November funds from the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP). Which means forty million people will spend most, if not all of November, struggling to feed themselves. As the government shutdown approaches the one-month mark, officials seem no closer to a solution and are instead pointing fingers over who is to blame for not distributing the billions of dollars of contingency funding that could alleviate the problem. In the meantime, those in need are left with limited options. “Cutting a federal safety net and telling people to go to a charity is not a solution, it’s a drop in the bucket,” says Greg Silverman, executive director of New York’s West Side Campaign Against Hunger. Silverman, who has worked in the food insecurity space across the world, is frustrated. “We can’t make up the gap on SNAP,” he says. “We’re not gonna volunteer our way out of this.” He explains that in his city alone, one in ten people deals with food insecurity, and in the weeks since the government shut down, emergency distribution groups have already had to step up their efforts to keep communities fed. “We’ve been adding more micro distribution points in neighborhoods where we have the highest number of folks we serve. We do that to get food closer to people so it’s cheaper for them, they save time and money on transport, and they also feel safer getting food closer to home.” While this is a boon to recipients, Silverman knows it’s not enough. Here’s what would be better: “ We need our national elected officials to have the USDA use the funds that are already allocated,” he says. “It exists, the money is there. They don’t need to open up the government to do this; they need to just send that money out to the states to be able to distribute food to people in need.” (If you are looking for ways to pressure your elected officials to act, the Food Research and Action Center has a number of options and step-by-step instructions.) In New York, this has already happened. Yesterday, Governor Kathy Hochul announced the state would be fast-tracking $30 million in emergency food aid for SNAP recipients. “Those weren't additional funds,” Silverman, who was at the press conference when it was announced, explains. “Those were previously allocated funds that [are] being fast-tracked to get out into the community faster.” Across the country, states are also suing the administration for failing to keep food benefits active. These efforts are good and necessary, but they are likely to move slowly through the court system, and won’t put dinner on the table this weekend. So what can the average person do today? “Frontline organizations need dollars right now because they’re out here having to buy more and more food,” Silverman says. In other words: We may not be able to volunteer our way out of this mess, but we can volunteer through. “Everyone can volunteer, whether it's once a year, once a quarter, once a month, once a week. If you have the funds, give them directly to organizations in need. If you have the time, give that.” If you have been impacted in any way by the government shutdown, please visit findhelp.org for resources in your area. If you can donate time or money, please choose a food pantry local to you. AND:
 The Complex Landscape of Pregnancy in AmericaA new book dives into what the experience is like—and whyBY REBECCA CARROLL  (COURTESY OF SIMON AND SCHUSTER, AUTHOR PHOTO BY SOPHIE SAHARA) If you’ve ever been pregnant (to term or not), you know that suddenly your choices are of public interest, and sometimes outright judgment. Pregnancy is a deeply personal experience that also inescapably involves power, vulnerability, politics, and a litany of unjust systems built for only certain beneficiaries. In her latest book, Unbearable: Five Women and the Perils of Pregnancy in America, journalist Irin Carmon weaves together narrative stories and reporting to create a lucid, sometimes heartbreaking, chronicle of how pregnant people are guided, or too often misguided, to navigate the experience in America. Rebecca Carroll: I want to start by asking about something you wrote in the book’s introduction, which is that “being pregnant in America means bearing the consequences of separating one form of reproductive care, abortion, from everything else.” What is “everything else,” and what do you mean? Irin Carmon: All other forms of reproductive medicine—prenatal care, birth, infertility, pregnancy loss—or even gynecological care in general. Before the white male takeover of medicine in the United States and Europe [in the mid-19th century], all reproductive care [including abortion] was more integrated into communal life, really across cultures. It was a group of women who were surrounding somebody at different stages of their reproductive life, from the onset of menarche through pregnancy and childbearing. I’m not saying that that system was perfect or that the old way was the right way, but I was really struck reading the history of the first abortion bans—as we live under the yoke of the new abortion bans, which are even more Draconian and enforced with much more efficacy—that abortion bans and the white male medical establishment takeover of medicine were inextricably linked to each other. It struck me as one of the many original sins of [modern] medical care. The other one being that the foundation of contemporary gynecology and obstetrics was American enslavement, and the unjust experimentation on enslaved women. The part about experimenting on enslaved Black women was really hard to read—I actually physically winced. I think the narrative around childbearing and rearing for Black women in America is so fraught, from the brutal, harrowing reality of how it all started with enslaved Black women, to the way that Toni Morrison used to talk about mothering as this gift of being able to keep and mother our children. How did you reconcile the different ways that Black women and white women experience pregnancy care? Dr. Yashica Robinson [an Alabama-based OBGYN and former abortion care provider] was actually one of the starting points for me wanting to write this book. In so many ways, the work that she does is the embodiment of what could be a better way. I first met her in 2014 when I was reporting for MSNBC, and I had come to interview [her husband], who ran the only Black-owned clinic in Alabama. Dr. Robinson walked into the room, and when she started talking, I thought, “Who is this? Did I come to interview the wrong person?” I thought, this is the person who I want to learn from, and to help me understand the truly bifurcated, painful dichotomy you are talking about. Another Black woman I write about in the book, Christine Fields, died in the same hospital as Maggie Boyd, a white woman I also write about. They were both harmed by the same doctor. But…Maggie was able to come home and raise her son because when her husband screamed for help, he was listened to. And when Jose [Christine’s husband] screamed for help, they called security on him, and wouldn’t let him be in the room. They left Christine alone, maybe because she was being treated like a problem, [and] we know from the research that Black women are much more likely to be treated in medical settings as a problem when they question the treatment or the care that they’re getting. When I had an abortion in the 90s, even though I didn’t hesitate, I still felt so much shame, in no small part because of the picketers outside the clinic calling me a murderer. Where do you think shame falls today in the broader conversation? The shame of being a “bad mother,” whatever that means to the person uttering it, is very powerful. And so the anti-abortion movement has done a very effective job in making people—even when they’re feeling a sense of relief, which is the most commonly cited feeling around an abortion—feel shame for being a “bad mother.” I write about the work of Lynn Paltrow [founder and executive director of Pregnancy Justice] and Dorothy Roberts [civil rights scholar and author of Killing the Black Body] in the book, and I think they have so powerfully shown how this shaming of pregnant people’s very existence is so malleable that it can encompass somebody with a substance abuse problem, as well as somebody who drinks a glass of wine. Everybody thinks, “I won't be the person whose behavior is scrutinized.” [But] the post-Dobbs era has made clear just how broad the tentacles of policing pregnancy can be. How has your own pregnancy experience been impacted by the stories and experiences you write about in the book? I was postpartum when I read about Hali Burns getting arrested six days after her son was born; she was arrested in her son’s hospital room. And so I’m mindful of the fact that I’ve been incredibly lucky, but that I feel a sense of deep connection to these women [in the book]. The work of this book was in trying to go deeper to understand the factors in the systems that led us to any given situation, because I’ve been the recipient of some low-key shitty pregnancy care, and I’ve had some incredible pregnancy care. For people who choose to go down this path, everybody deserves to have access to what I had access to.  FOLLOW THE METEOR     Thank you for reading The Meteor! Got this from a friend? |
“I saw a photo and my heart just dropped”
 October 24, 2025 Good evening, Meteor readers, I’ve just stepped off a plane from Vienna, so I’m jet-lagged and 40% pretzel. Tonight’s newsletter is even saltier, featuring upcoming election news, Malala Yousafzai’s new memoir, and a powerful conversation between The Meteor’s Rebecca Carroll and Deesha Dyer, who was the White House Social Secretary during the Obama administration and worked out of the now-demolished East Wing for much of her tenure. Let’s get to it. Mattie Kahn and The Meteor team  WHAT'S GOING ONThis week, President Trump took a literal wrecking ball to the East Wing of the White House and referred to its demolition as “the beautiful sound of construction.” But this was an historic space, with a legacy that meant something to a lot of people. (It has housed the office of every First Lady since Eleanor Roosevelt, for starters.) Several Democrats have pledged to investigate Trump’s “renovation,” and the public wants answers. In the meantime, though, those who worked in the East Wing are grieving—including former White House Social Secretary Deesha Dyer, who held that job during the last two years of the Obama administration. To get a sense of what this moment means, Rebecca Carroll called her.  DEESHA DYER WITH THE OBAMAS (COURTESY OF THE OBAMA WHITE HOUSE) Rebecca Carroll: It must feel so surreal to have been part of the first Black presidential administration in the White House, and to experience this demolition in real time—can you put that into words at all? Deesha Dyer: I can’t. It’s hard, Rebecca. I’ll be honest with you, because right now we’re having so many fights on so many other fronts. This morning I was helping a family get food and find housing. I avoided the photos [of the East Wing] and the conversations, because right now I need to focus on the basic needs of people. And then I saw a photo, and my heart just dropped. It affected me more than I thought it would. Because what we see, as one of my colleagues said, is a metaphor for everything happening right now. The destruction of the East Wing is a destruction for so much of what’s happening in our neighborhoods, in our communities. And as hard as it is going to be to ever rebuild the East Wing back, that is how hard it’s going to be to rebuild everything back. RC: Can you imagine a scenario in which President Obama would ever have been like, “I’m going to demolish…anything”? DD: No. He couldn’t even wear a tan suit. You know what I mean? I remember we had an event doing yoga in the East Room of the White House, and it was like, “Can we do that? Is it okay to lay yoga mats down on this historic floor?” Anything that we did, we did with extra scrutiny. I can’t even imagine if President Obama had cut down a bush outside of the White House. It would’ve been: “How dare you do this to America? You’re desecrating the country!” RC: You noted on Threads this week that three Black women have run events in the East Wing, including yourself, and you ran those events for the first Black First Lady. How symbolic does it feel that Trump chose the East Wing to demolish? DD: Very symbolic. That’s where the First Lady’s office has always been, and so it symbolizes what he thinks about women in general—and women in power specifically. The East Wing is also where people enter for tours and celebrations and all types of events. So it also says a lot about what he thinks about opening up the house, and making it really the people’s house. ... This is a property that is paid for by taxpayers. It is the people’s house. So it is not his. RC: And did you and the former First Lady ever have any conversations about the significance of the East Wing? DD: Definitely. All the time. Mrs. Obama talked to the entire staff about what her vision was for the East Wing and the White House. She always wanted to make it so it felt like everybody’s house. We made sure that from the minute you stepped in the door, you felt like this is a place that considered who you were, whether it was your culture, whether it was your family, whether it was anything. It’s jarring to see that all just gone. RC: What does that space mean to you personally? DD: I’m a Black girl from Philly—a hip-hop writer who had a community college education. I was also in charge of bringing to life the vision of Mrs. Obama and President Obama. And so for me, the space means possibility and hope. And we know that the history of the White House is not all grand. We know the implications of it being built by slaves. But we did our best to make sure that people saw themselves in it. That yes, our ancestors built the building, but we can dance in it. We can have joy in it. We can have our art in it. We can have our music in it, and be happy about that. RC: How are you taking care of you right now? DD: I’ll keep it a buck, I’m not. I’m constantly thinking, “This is terrible. This is a mess.” I’ll be on a walk with my husband and get a call about a food bank or a family in need. And so it's hard to take care of myself at this time. But I have to remember that I am a Black woman in this country that is a product of systems. I have type two diabetes and high cholesterol and high blood pressure. And so the system is also trying to kill us softly while it’s trying to kill us fast too. I need to continue going to therapy and taking my medicine and encouraging other people…. I’m not probably doing the best I could taking care of myself, but I’m trying.  THIS WEEK'S DEMOLITION OF THE WHITE HOUSE'S EAST WING (GETTY IMAGES) AND:
 FOLLOW THE METEOR Thank you for reading The Meteor! Got this from a friend? |
An "Invasion" at Home
 October 7, 2025 Salutations, Meteor readers, Spooky season is fully upon us. The apples are cidered, and the pumpkins are spiced. Delicious.  In today’s newsletter, we take a look at Operation Midway Blitz in Chicago. Plus, a new doll for the sports fans.  WHAT'S GOING ONDespite objections and a lawsuit from the state of Illinois, Trump has deployed the National Guard to Chicago to augment ICE agents and detention facilities across the state. Governor JB Pritzker released a statement saying, “We must now start calling this what it is: Trump’s invasion.” Perhaps it seems like an overstatement to refer to the increased presence of federal agents and the National Guard as an invasion, but let’s look at the facts. Last month, the Department of Homeland Security initiated something called Operation Midway Blitz, which was designed to “target the criminal illegal aliens who flocked to Chicago and Illinois.” DHS claims this operation was driven by the death of a young Illinois resident, Katie Abraham, who was killed in a drunk driving incident in which the driver was an immigrant. So what’s come of it? Well, in the 30 days that Midway Blitz has been active, Block Club Chicago reports that ICE officers have shot two people, tear-gassed protestors, detained children and a journalist, choked a man, and shot a chemical agent into a reporter’s car—all under the guise of protecting U.S. citizens from immigrants. When pressed about children who had been detained and zip-tied, Russell Hott, the field director overseeing Midway Blitz, said, “Children have been encountered pursuant to arrests for targets. In those instances, there have been parents that wanted to bring their children with them, and we have accommodated that.” That so-called accommodation happened during an overnight raid at a South Shore apartment complex last week, where children were removed from their homes in the middle of the night, and 37 people were taken into custody. Chicagoans have been protesting Midway Blitz at every opportunity, which is why, according to Trump’s logic, the National Guard had to be brought in. But these moves aren’t just meant to instill fear into immigrants—they’re also meant to aggravate and worsen existing divisions in Black and Latine communities, which, despite having linked struggles in the United States, have often been at odds due to the racialization of different Latine groups, anti-Blackness, and political manipulation. When ICE agents pursued and choked a man in East Garfield Park last Wednesday, witnesses allegedly shouted at the officers, “He’s not Mexican, he’s Black,” in order to get them to stop harassing the man. These divisions are not a secret to the administration; they know we cannot fight them if we are busy fighting each other. But worsening immigration raids are not simply a “Latino issue” or a Mexican issue; they are a problem for everyone who doesn’t fit the ideal of what an American looks like—yes, that means anyone not white or white-presenting. Anti-immigration policy is, at its most basic level, rooted in racism, and that has never been clearer than it is now. The Trump administration does not want brown, Black, Asian, Chicano, or any other type of people living in the United States (Trump does want white South Africans, though), and Trump is using every tool available to him to make this country in his own crusty caucasian image. So once again, it is on We the People to do the work ourselves. We aren’t going to solve intraracial relations overnight, nor will we pretend they don’t exist. What we can do is recognize that our survival as people of various groups is inextricably linked.  AND:
 THE NEW DOLLS ARE MODELED AFTER ELLIE KILDUNNE, ILONA MAHER, NASSIRA KONDE, AND PORTIA WOODMAN-WCKLIFFE. (VIA MATTEL)
 FOLLOW THE METEOR Thank you for reading The Meteor! Got this from a friend? |
A Moment for Trey Reed
 September 16, 2025 Evening, Meteor readers, Today, my good friend of over a decade put her first children’s book out into the world. Happy pub day to Everything Grows in Jiddo’s Garden, and three cheers to my favorite Jersey girl who never backs down. In today’s newsletter, we try to understand a horrific incident in Mississippi. Plus, a call for retribution from the vice president and a new rookie of the year. (Yes, we know, the news is an emotional rollercoaster.) Surviving, Shannon Melero  WHAT'S GOING ONOn Monday morning, the body of Demartravion “Trey” Reed, a 21-year-old Black man, was retrieved by local police in Cleveland, Mississippi. And by retrieved we mean: They pulled his body down from the tree where it had been hanging on the Delta State University campus. During a press conference, the university police chief told reporters that there was “no evidence of foul play,” but that an investigation was still underway.  Naturally, people are skeptical of the findings, with many posting a single, resounding phrase across social media: “Black people don’t lynch themselves.” This isn’t the first case of a suspected lynching in the last year. In June, Earl Smith (58) was found hanging in Albany, New York. Last September, Dennoriss Richardson (39) was found hanging in Sheffield, Alabama. And in March, twin brothers Qaadir and Naazir Lewis (19) were found in Hiawassee, Georgia, with gunshot wounds to their heads. Each of these deaths was ruled a suicide, but in Richardson’s case, there were conflicting autopsy reports. In Smith’s case, members of the community accused the local police of not conducting a thorough investigation. In the Lewis case, both the NAACP and the Lewis family rejected the findings based on where the boys’ bodies were found. In a perfect world, we wouldn’t have to question police findings, but that world has yet to be discovered. In this world, we know that Black men are not afforded the same level of justice or care as their white counterparts. We also know that, statistically, Black people have lower suicide rates than all but two other racial groups. It may be months or even years before we know the full truth of what happened to Demartravion Reed and those who have died in a similar fashion. So all we can do is work with the truth that is currently available to us, which is that Black bodies are under threat. Historically. Recently. Daily. This very minute. When these deaths happen and go widely unnoticed and underinvestigated, we as a society perpetuate that threat, allowing for greater loss and greater silence. So until we have all the answers, do not let Trey Reed’s name go unspoken. AND:
 BEAUTIFUL INSIDE AND OUT. (VIA GETTY IMAGES)
 FOLLOW THE METEOR Thank you for reading The Meteor! Got this from a friend? |
We Didn't Want to Write This
  September 11, 2025 Good evening, Meteor readers, Last night, I held my daughter a little longer than usual, to which she said, “Get off, mama.” But I clung to her tiny frame like a life raft. When the days are particularly dark and the rhetoric unbearable, sometimes the only thing that feels manageable is a hug. It is a crushing weight to try to prepare my daughter for a world so violent, so numb to the murder of children, so uncaring to little brown girls that look like her. There is a lot to be said about the shooting of Charlie Kirk yesterday, and certainly in the days to come, you’ll hear it. Some of it you may agree with, some will challenge your way of thinking, and some will be nonsense. But people will talk about him. They will remember him. They will memorialize him. They will reference him in the ongoing conversations about gun policy and political violence. And they will forget the everyday people who have been gunned down in the streets walking to work, walking to school. Going home. Those murders are political too. They matter. They are an eternal reminder that America values the right to own a gun over the right to live safely. So today my heart is with every person who continues to ask why wasn’t my child’s murder enough to change everything. Why didn’t they care when it was one of us? In community, Shannon Melero  WHAT'S GOING ONRinse, repeat: It was another horrific, predictable Wednesday in America. How so? Well, there were two school shootings, although most headlines were accorded to one of them. The first was captured in a gruesome video that went viral and looped over and over in the social media feeds of most people I know, who had not intended or wanted to view an assassination on X. (We will not be linking to a murder clip here.) It also unfolded at the exact moment that its target—the MAGA political activist Charlie Kirk—was answering a question about gun violence in America while visiting Utah Valley University. The other shooting took place at Evergreen High School in Evergreen, Colorado, where the gunman died of self-inflicted injuries and two students were wounded. One of them remains in critical condition at a local hospital. President Trump—a close confidante of Charlie Kirk’s and the beneficiary of Kirk’s alarmingly successful crusade to convert college-aged men in particular to the Republican cause—ordered flags be flown at half-staff.  (VIA GETTY IMAGES) Good. Lower the flags, not for Kirk, but for the rest of us, who are grieving what has been made normal here. It is tragic that we live in a place where one school shooting interrupts another. It is unspeakable that an eighth grader at Evergreen told local news he’d just moved to the area a few months ago and didn’t think “this would happen so soon.” So soon. It is insane, not normal, diseased. We should be tearing our clothes. We should be in mourning over the decisions that have brought us here. The flags should be at half-staff until something changes. But of course, the people with the power to do that—the people lowering the flags, the people calling for a moment of silence on the House floor—are the same people who could pass legislation literally today to mitigate this. These people could make it harder to get a souped-up hunting rifle so that what happened to Charlie Kirk doesn’t happen to their colleagues or their children or our colleagues or our children. You should know: Utah, where Charlie Kirk was killed, voted to relax gun laws on college campuses just a few months ago. In August, KSL NewsRadio published a headline that reads: “Students and Faculty at University of Utah Can Now Open Carry with a Permit.” It was an astounding, sickening day. It was just another afternoon in this heartbreaking country. — Mattie Kahn AND:
 Oh, and the Emmys Are Still HappeningBY REBECCA CARROLL  SIRI, PLAY ALL OF THE LIGHTS (VIA GETTY IMAGES) Yep, the world is burning, but Hollywood is still giving out little gold statuettes to the kids at the popular table. And this year’s Emmys, which air this Sunday, actually feel important, especially as the Trump administration continues to make drastic cuts to and place restrictions on funding for the arts and creative institutions. So if giving out awards at a sparkly, red-carpet event reminds us of how important the arts are in this particular moment, I’m all in. Also, who am I kidding? I’m always all in. I live for an awards show. I’m going to limit my predictions to the main categories, and rate accordingly. Best DramaShould win: The Pitt, because despite its clear echoes of ER, it’s got a heart of gold, resurrected the career of Noah Wyle (one of our last good white men standing), and features a truly inclusive and diverse cast of characters who are all fully developed and nuanced. Will win: Severance, because it's the best show in this category. There’s literally nothing wrong with it—it’s stylistically vivid, flawlessly written, and ingeniously cast. Personal fave: Paradise. While the apocalyptic premise of Paradise is, in turns, cheesy and terrifying, Sterling K. Brown—along with a very solid supporting cast, which includes the excellent James Marsden and Julianne Nicholson—grabs us in the gut from episode one, and after that, it’s just impossible to look away. Best ComedyShould win: The Studio should win because it’s a bold, original, and cringeworthy send-up of Hollywood sent from the actual heavens. It took me a few episodes to get into it, but then I realized that the key to enjoying this show is to give in to the cringe and let go of the silly notion that people in Hollywood are just like us. They’re not. They’re a different breed, and I love that for them. Personal fave: Only Murders in the Building. Selena Gomez, Martin Short, and Steve Martin walk into a building—I mean, the rest writes itself. Will win: The Studio, if only because Hollywood wants us to think that it's self-aware. Best Limited SeriesShould, and will, win: Adolescence is my fave and will win. It deserves to win because, for starters, each of the four episodes in the series was shot in one take. That’s not only unheard of, but also logistically challenging. And yet each presents as seamless. And then, with that in mind, the chemistry between the actors feels so organic, it’s almost uncomfortable to watch. That’s good TV.  ONE OF THE LAST GOOD WHITE MEN NOT NAMED PAUL RUDD. (VIA GETTY IMAGES) Best Actor, DramaShould win: Sterling K. Brown (Paradise) should win and is also my fave, because he carries a frame with such heft and dedication. You can see his artistry at work, while also believing that he is wholly the character he’s depicting. That’s what acting your ass off looks like. Will win: Adam Scott (Severance), and that is absolutely fine, because he makes a nonsensical character make perfect sense. Best Actress, DramaShould win: Britt Lower (Severance) should win, and is also my fave. The red hair, the simultaneously robotic and fluid movement of her body, the blue pencil skirt, the Mensa IQ-level vibe—it’s all riveting. Will win: Kathy Bates (Matlock) and listen, if I am in the new prime of my career at 77, then praise be.  THE WINNER IN OUR HEARTS (VIA GETTY IMAGES) Best Actor, Comedy SeriesShould win: Seth Rogen (The Studio) should and will win. I came late to the Rogen party. I always found him kind of dopey and disconsolate. But then I realized that his talent as an actor is his precision at playing dopey and disconsolate. He’s also fantastic in the highly underrated Platonic, with the true gem of an actress, Rose Byrne, and that gives him added appeal. Personal fave: My forever fave is Martin Short. I have loved him since I was a teenager, watching him on Saturday Night Live. He is brilliant, a consummate performer, and one of the funniest people on the planet. He manages to make the fairly repetitive nature of Only Murders in the Building (I mean, maybe move out if everyone’s getting murdered?) feel fresh every season. Best Actress, Comedy SeriesShould win: Jean Smart should and will win. Smart, who, like Deborah Vance, the character she plays on Hacks, has been in the business for decades, brings a kind of sad, driven beauty to the role that might otherwise elude a less seasoned actress. You hate Deborah, then root for her, and then ultimately, you just feel for her. Also, Designing Women anyone? IYKYK. Personal fave: My fave is Ayo Edebiri (The Bear), because her kind of funny is subtle and intellectual and Black and authentic. It’s a killer combo that I’ve not really seen in the latest crop of actors. Best Actor, Limited SeriesShould win, personal fave, and will win: Stephen Graham (Adolescence) should win, is my fave, and will win, because Holy God, he is just so good in this series. As the father of a boy who may or may not have committed murder, Graham is utterly saturated with palpable grief over his failed self-expectations as a parent. It’s a raw, quiet, beautiful, and devastating performance. Best Actress, Limited SeriesShould win: Cate Blanchett (Disclaimer) should win, because she never gets it wrong. I’m not even a massive fan: I find her slightly precious in interviews, but ever since I first saw her in the 1997 Gillian Armstrong film Oscar and Lucinda, I have found her to be so elegantly reliable as an actress. And in Disclaimer, as a journalist with a dark secret potentially about to be revealed, she pivots from fear to rage to vulnerability with the ease of a dancer. Will win, and personal fave: Michelle Williams (Dying for Sex) will win and is my fave, because she has something special. In her 2017 Oscar-winning performance in Manchester By the Sea, she managed to embody what it looks like to keep functioning when the small lives that came from her body are dead. As Molly, in Dying for Sex, she taps that same artery of despair while continuing to breathe in full, deep breaths.  FOLLOW THE METEOR Thank you for reading The Meteor! Got this from a friend? |
When Schools Are Scary
  September 2, 2025 Fair Monduesday, Meteor readers, Ya girl is back and revitalized! Not from being in nature, which was a delight, but from playing the Beautiful Chaos EP in an endless loop over the speakers in my house when no one was around. And yes, be assured, I was doing the choreography (incorrectly).  In today’s newsletter, I’m channeling the anxiety over back-to-school season and suggesting what we can do to help each other out. Plus, the yarn breaking the camel’s back and a basketball/Black Panther crossover. Gnarly, Shannon Melero  WHAT'S GOING ONBack to scared: This morning, everything from my family group text to my Instagram feed was swimming with photos of kids heading back to school. Even my two-year-old, who recently got moved up to the big kids’ group at her daycare, got in on the fun, holding her moving-up certificate with a big, toothy grin. But for many of us, the day now has a darkly predictable anxiety to it as well. After all, parents, teachers, and students have, in the last five years alone, survived more than 1,000 gun violence events in K-12 schools in America. As if it isn’t bad enough to wonder will there be a gun in my child’s school today?, parents and teachers are facing additional threats: cuts to the education department, the elimination of DEI programs, Title IX challenges, the specter of AI in the classroom, and the incursion of ICE agents, who have detained families traveling to and from school. All that doesn’t even touch on the basic fears we’ve now normalized, like bullying or sexual harassment. Not to age myself here, but back in my day 👵🏼, active shooter drills were not a monthly occurrence. Now, as a parent, I receive emails about them regularly from my toddler’s daycare center. I will never forgive this country for being so nonchalant about gun violence that caregivers must now learn to protect literal infants from an active shooter. So aside from deep breaths to help us quell our fears, what can we do? Support a teacher: Most of us know at least one teacher, so make a difference by simply asking them what they need. Help with supplies? A shoulder to cry on? Cash for therapy? If you’re feeling super generous, check out Funds for Teachers. Be loud about gun safety: Every. Single. Day. Talk about the anti-violence measures we need so much that your friends get tired of hearing from you. Then make new friends and repeat. Report icy conditions: There are a number of ways to quickly let people know if ICE is lurking by a school. There’s an app to report any sightings while you’re out and about, and remember that it is still illegal for ICE agents to enter a school without a warrant, so if you are a school employee, know that you are not obligated to open the door until a warrant is provided. Be honest with your kids: We can’t anticipate every danger our children will face, but we can be open about what they can expect. Have a conversation with your kids about their rights and equip them with the knowledge to stand up for themselves and each other, even if adults in power won’t. Join the PTA: This will be my least popular bit of advice, but if Moms for Liberty can sway elections, then the least the rest of us can do is weigh in on what’s happening in the school library. What’s at the top of your mind for this back-to-school season? Drop us an email at [email protected], and we might answer it in our next newsletter! AND:
 ACTIVISTS DEPARTING A PORT IN BARCELONA MONDAY EVENING, FOR MANY IT IS THEIR SECOND TRIP (VIA GETTY IMAGES)
 FOLLOW THE METEOR Thank you for reading The Meteor! Got this from a friend? |
It's a Love Story
  August 26, 2025 Good evening to Swifties and the people who love them, Today marks 0 days since Taylor Swift announced her engagement and 105 years since the ratification of the 19th Amendment, which secured the vote for (some) women in the United States. Huge day. To sort out our feelings about that (the unfinished work of suffrage, not Taylor, for whom we’re uncomplicatedly happy), we called up Rep. LaMonica McIver. The congresswoman has been in the news since May, when she was charged with assault after attempting to conduct an entirely legal congressional oversight visit at an immigration facility in Newark, New Jersey. She has pleaded not guilty. In today’s newsletter, Rep. McIver shares her own personal call for action. Plus, something good is happening in Illinois. Fearlessly, Cindi, Mattie, and the team  WHAT'S GOING ONVoting like our lives depend on it: Over a century ago, the 19th Amendment became law and millions of women in the United States were granted access to the ballot box. Sounds great, and it was. But not for everyone. It’s never simple to mark these kinds of dates on the calendar, and the 19th Amendment—a rad thing, to be clear—did not in fact do what it promised for large chunks of the population. Poll taxes kept some poor women from voting. It wasn’t until the Voting Rights Act of 1965 that Black women in the Jim Crow South (and some Native American women, for that matter) were able to cast their ballots. Voting can feel like the bare minimum, but August 26 is a reminder that people fought hard for even this basic right. We vote so we can exercise one of our most essential liberties, but we also vote so that we can elect qualified, inspiring candidates, who can represent our interests. When democracies are working as they are supposed to, this is in fact a wildly beautiful and cool process.  REP. LAMONICA MCIVER, AT A NEWS CONFERENCE IN FEBRUARY 2025. VIA GETTYIMAGESIn honor of Women’s Equality Day, we called Rep. LaMonica McIver—one such legislator. Below, the 39-year-old U.S. congresswoman from New Jersey shares her thoughts on suffrage, activism, and where we go from here. When I think about suffrage, I think about how women are leading the fight for representation across this country. Women have always been leaders on voting rights, immigration, and justice, and they’ve shown how these issues are tied together. Now more than ever, women are doing that work. Our freedom is under attack each and every second of the day under this administration, and that makes this anniversary so much more important. It’s a day that reminds us why we have to keep leading. We have an administration that is trying to take us backward, rolling back civil rights, women’s rights, and the protections our ancestors fought for. We’re seeing them do it with the stroke of a Sharpie pen. I know people feel defeated, but I want people to focus on what they can do. As a member of Congress, I’m always asking myself, “Why am I doing this?” The “why” for me is the people I represent, who are counting on me to raise their stories and to advocate for them, to make sacrifices for them, to give a voice to the people who are voiceless. They give me strength. We all have a “why,” and we all need to find it to keep pushing for the country that we know. We can’t always predict where our fight will take us. I tell people all the time: I did not come into office with a robust immigration plan. That is the honest truth. But I knew I wanted to protect the people in this district—documented, undocumented, women, children. And that is exactly what I am doing. I am showing up to do the job I was hired to do. There’s something for everyone to do. Voting is something. Exercising the right that suffrage gave us is something. Keeping your circle informed is something. The work that folks in the media are doing is something, because you are being attacked as well. You don’t have to be the next Martin Luther King, Jr., but you have to find something to do. You have to stay engaged. — Rep. LaMonica McIver (D-N.J.), as told to The Meteor A few “somethings” you can do on this anniversary:
AND:
 FOLLOW THE METEOR Thank you for reading The Meteor! Got this from a friend? |
What Idaho Did When You Weren't Looking
|
  February 12, 2025 Hey there, Meteor readers, The U.S. has now officially changed the name of the Gulf of Mexico to the Gulf of America. Given everything else going on, this may seem like a small and petty thing. But, for me at least, the stench of colonialism on this move is so strong it’s smothering. Erasure is erasure is erasure, no matter how big or small. In today’s newsletter, we look at what states have been doing on abortion while we’ve all been distracted with the White House. Plus, mark your calendars: There’s a mass boycott coming this month. Shannon Melero  WHAT'S GOING ONLook over there: The new administration has been generating record levels of news and destruction on the federal level. But while we’ve all been untangling the mess that the president is making of our lives, some states have been rolling out extreme anti-abortion measures—with less media attention than you might expect in more normal times. Luckily, Abortion Every Day founder Jessica Valenti has been neatly gathering all of these legislative measures in one place. So what are states up to? South Carolina is trying to criminalize everything: Valenti describes the state’s latest anti-abortion bill, The Unborn Child Protection Act (SB 323), as a blueprint for “the future [Republicans] want for American women.” SB 323 is aggressive in its cruelty: It removes exceptions (including for incest) from the state’s existing abortion ban; it makes IUDs and morning-after pills illegal; and it proposes criminal charges against anyone who receives an abortion. Missouri is trying to wish away its abortion-rights vote: Last fall, a majority of voters moved to enshrine abortion rights in Missouri’s constitution. But now, a state House committee is blatantly seeking a do-over by putting the issue back on the ballot, but with much stricter terms: The next ballot initiative would ban abortion after 12 weeks, and limit it severely before that. The people of Missouri haven’t changed their minds: The proposal was met with fierce opposition. Still, the new amendment only has to be approved by lawmakers; it doesn’t need petition signatures to get on the ballot. And Idaho is trying to charge people who have abortions with murder: First, the state introduced a bill that would add mifepristone and misoprostol to the state’s controlled substance list, making it a felony to possess or distribute these common, safe methods. (This move mirrors what’s already happening in Louisiana, Texas, and Indiana.) And then, last week, a state senator introduced a separate bill that would re-classify abortion as homicide—making Idaho the sixth state to consider such a bill. The fact that six states have introduced legislation that would classify one in four American women as a murderer is, it’s safe to say, big news. Let’s keep treating it that way. And stay vigilant: What is your state doing—or not doing—to protect abortion rights? AND:
 (PHOTO BY EMILEE CHINN/GETTY IMAGES)
  FOLLOW THE METEOR  Thank you for reading The Meteor! Got this from a friend? |
It's Mt. Denali If You're Nasty
  January 21, 2025 Fair Monduesday, Meteor readers, I spent most of my day yesterday guiding my child around the Liberty Science Center along with what felt like every other kid in New Jersey. What did I miss? If you, too, pulled a Michelle Obama and sat out the day’s events, we’ll catch you up: In today’s newsletter, we wrap our heads around the sweeping pardons granted to January 6 insurrectionists. Plus: what Cecile Richards would want us to do. ♥️ ✊🏼, Shannon Melero  WHAT'S GOING ONThe longest Day One ever: Yesterday, shortly after he was sworn into office (with his hand not on the Bible), Donald Trump grabbed his favorite sharpie and started signing a flurry of executive orders, including reinstating the death penalty, declaring that there are only “two sexes,” laying the groundwork for more oil drilling in Alaska, and mass pardoning nearly every January 6 rioter. (Even this guy). And we haven’t even gotten to his attempt to rewrite the Constitution to eliminate birthright citizenship. (States are already suing over this.) While you can point to nearly every order signed and find something frightening, let’s focus for a moment on the January 6 move—which wipes out more than 1200 convictions, dismisses over 300 pending cases, and commutes the sentences of 14 violent, racist, and seditious rioters who sought to overturn an election with which they disagreed. That means that every person currently serving a prison sentence will be released, including the leader of a self-described anti-government militia. The pardons and commutations also mean that anyone convicted of a felony will have their full legal rights restored. Do you know what felons can’t do after a conviction? Legally purchase guns. But these people now can do that, and they are thrilled. This isn’t just an incidental ripple effect of the pardons. Rather, with the stroke of a marker, Trump has signaled, as several counterterrorism experts voiced to reporters at NPR, an “endorsement of political violence…as long as that violence is against Trump's opponents.” For followers of the Oath Keepers and the Proud Boys, this is very good news: Their ally in the White House has greenlit whatever they might do and the guns with which to do it. But for the rest of us, it raises real, unsettling questions: What does the future of political protest look like when the opposition has become so emboldened? For me personally—a Puerto Rican Muslim—the prospect of a rejuvenated and protected modern-day KKK fills me with dread and fuels a deep-rooted mistrust I’ve had for years. There’s a pit in my stomach any time I go to the “good” grocery store and see white men walking the aisles. Is he one of them? Am I safe here? I have renewed doubts about the white people in my life. Would they stand up for me? Would they even know they needed to? With Trump rolling out all of the horrible things he’s promised, I am mentally exhausted and emotionally drained—and it’s only been a day and a half. But all of that is the point. Fear is paralytic. It is divisive. It is distracting. It is the master’s tool. And when we think about what it will take to live through a second Trump presidency, the first unavoidable step is learning how to operate beyond fear. I don’t say that lightly; I say this as someone who is in the pit with you. Surviving this administration will demand an enormous amount of work from every single one of us. And that work has to be based in community, or it will not survive the years ahead. Maybe that’s joining a PTA or neighborhood association, or running for school board. It could be working against gun violence. It could be running for city council or county commissioners office. It could be volunteer work or handing out supply kits to the unhoused or donating to local drives. I also suggest engaging in the simplest act of defiance there is: reading. Go to your library and learn from those who fought these rights before we even got here. Read Audre Lorde. Read James Baldwin. Read Iris Morales. Read Angela Davis. Read Grace Lee Bogs. Read bell hooks and keep reading until you read yourself out of fear and into readiness. There is no white hood, no “Roman Salute,” and no executive order stronger than what we can do together. AND:
 DIVINE. (VIA GETTY IMAGES)
 CECILE RICHARDS FOREVERYesterday morning, hours before we inaugurated a president who campaigned on his disdain for women and for democracy, we lost a woman who crusaded for both those things. Cecile Richards was probably our country’s best-known abortion-rights advocate; she led Planned Parenthood for a decade, testified for 12 hours before a hostile Congress, and helped launch Supermajority, Charley, and Abortion in America. She was also funny, determined, and cheerfully relentless; she gave spot-on advice, sized people up perfectly, and adored her brand-new grandson Teddy (when I typed her name just now, her contact auto populated and a picture of him in a little red onesie popped up on my screen). She was a mentor and a hero, to those of us she knew and to plenty she didn’t; if you had lunch with her, women would approach with tears in their eyes and a story you could tell they wanted to share. And she is gone far too soon: at 67, of a brain cancer that could not stop her from speaking on behalf of Kamala Harris at the convention last summer. The daughter of Texas governor Ann Richards, Cecile understood organizing (and the strength of women) on a cellular level. Those are two things we need more than ever right now. We need Cecile, to be honest, but in her absence, we need each other. And as her family wrote yesterday, “We’ll leave you with a question she posed a lot over the last year: It’s not hard to imagine future generations one day asking: ‘When there was so much at stake for our country, what did you do?’” And she said, of course, that there was only one answer: “Everything we could.” —Cindi Leive   FOLLOW THE METEOR     Thank you for reading The Meteor! Got this from a friend? Sign up for your own copy, sent Tuesdays and Thursdays. |
