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    Family Settles in Battle for Ancestral Land in South Carolina

    Josephine Wright, who died this year at 94, had been fighting to save family property. The developer, Bailey Point Investments, agreed to end the dispute, the family’s lawyer said.The family of a woman who fought a developer to keep their ancestral land in Hilton Head, S.C., has reached a settlement in the legal battle that recognized her ownership, a family lawyer said this week.Josephine Wright, who died in January at 94, had been leading the fight to retain rights to the land that had been in her husband’s family since the Civil War. Her quest had drawn support from celebrities, including Snoop Dogg and Kyrie Irving.The company that owns the development neighboring her property, Bailey Point Investment, had sued Ms. Wright in February 2023, claiming encroachment. The company said that her satellite dish, shed and screened porch trespassed on its land, which had “significantly delayed and hindered” development.The two parties had agreed on the terms of a settlement before Ms. Wright died in January, but the documents were not signed, so they had to wait until it was determined who would be authorized to sign on behalf of her estate, Roberts Vaux, the family’s lawyer said in an email.Mr. Vaux declined to provide details of the settlement, but said that the land that Ms. Wright claimed is “confirmed as hers.”A lawyer representing Bailey Point Investment did not immediately respond to requests for comment.A family spokeswoman, Altimese Nichole, told South Carolina Public Radio that the settlement requires that Bailey Point Investment stop contacting the family about acquiring the land and that it fix a roof on the property, put up a privacy fence and provide landscaping.Ms. Wright had previously told The New York Times that her husband inherited the 1.8-acre property from his parents, and that it was put in her name after he died in 1998.The property has been a gathering spot for Ms. Wright’s seven children, 40 grandchildren, 50 great-grandchildren and 16 great-great-grandchildren, she had said.Ms. Wright’s predicament, however, wasn’t all that unique among residents of Hilton Head, S.C., an island 100 miles from Charleston, S.C.Land in the area was owned by many Black families who had settled there long before developers arrived in the 1950s and made it a tourist destination, Mel Campbell, 75, a community elder previously told the Times. Many of the Black families were descendants of West and Central Africans who were enslaved and worked on rice, indigo and cotton plantations.Many families were offered large checks from developers for their land, Ms Wright said. She said that she had refused when she was offered $39,000 for the land years ago.Ms. Wright told The Times in August that the land’s value was not only monetary. “It’s a family thing,” she said then, “and we want to keep it that way forever.” More

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    My father, the Pakistani Elvis

    Elvis personified everything American, what my dad wished to embody: charisma, rebellion and sex appeal.This article is also a weekly newsletter. Sign up for Race/Related here.Graceland was one of my father’s first stops in America. He had always been a fanatic, performing his first Elvis impersonation at a talent show in Port Harcourt, Nigeria — a way for expats working on oil refineries to let loose. My mother is his enabler, sewing the sequins onto his blue satin capes, bedazzling the ivory jumpsuit with the deep V-neck. When he rumbles, “Thank you, thank you very much, especially to my Priscilla,” with a wink flung at my mom, she still beams.Growing up in Karachi, my father and his friends would pile into the cinema, erupting in song and dance whenever Elvis graced the screen. My dad always carried a comb in his pocket to perfect his Presley-esque hairstyle: smooth sides, floppy front. Elvis personified everything American, what my dad wished to embody: charisma, rebellion and sex appeal.My father, Airaj Jilani, immigrated to the U.S. in March 1979 and worked for an oil-and-gas company in Texas in the days when South Asian men were not welcome. To this day, he wears cowboy boots and his Southern drawl is deeply ingrained. His identity, unlike mine, has never been a question mark.His Elvis impersonations began in Pakistan with performances for family, which quickly catapulted him into becoming a local rock star. As a kid, I watched him shake his hips in local talent shows with utter wonder. Women chased him off the stage, grabbing his scarves. He embraced every aspect of newfound celebrity. Since then, he has performed at benefits, at office parties, throughout Venezuela, on a boat in Istanbul and in a Beirut night club, where an Instagram account streamed his performance live.When he moved to the U.S., he rejected his ethnicity. After we were born, we were to follow suit. An American flag hung outside our home; he took it down when it rained to protect it. We were forbidden to speak Urdu, but my mother still taught us on the sly. Bollywood movies were smuggled in and watched secretly. When my little sister wore a hijab to ground her in spirituality, it was incomprehensible to my father. Instead of living in the suburbs as my parents had envisioned, I became a pediatrician and aid worker who returned to the very same places that they had risked their lives to leave behind.When I worked as a doctor aboard refugee-rescue boats off the coast of Libya, I recognized the strangers as shadows of my family. As a child, my father had boarded a ship in India and sailed north to a newly created Pakistan. He and his siblings used to play in the ship’s boiler room, hopping between turbines. It was warm but deafeningly loud, which spared him from hearing women crying above. Women wept on the vessel I worked on, too. The kids on our ship scaled ladders as their laughter ricocheted off the surf, and I imagined my father doing the same so many years ago.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    Why Did My Birth Son Invite Me to a Wedding and Then Seat Me in Siberia?

    Reunited with her son after half a century, a reader feels slighted by her seat at a family wedding, where her son’s wife had already made her feel less than welcome.I am a birth mother whose son found me seven years ago, when I was 70 and he was 49. I gave him up for adoption as an infant; his adoptive mother is deceased. He called me Mom from Day 1, and we felt an immediate heart connection. It has been a roller coaster of intense emotions. Unfortunately, his wife wrote me a letter saying she does not recognize me as his mother and wants nothing to do with me. Still, my son and I have developed a loving relationship over texts and phone calls. (We live 3,000 miles apart.) So, I was thrilled to be invited to his stepson’s wedding — though also nervous, given his wife’s letter. My son assured me I would be seated with his siblings, but I was placed at a distant table with his friend. I was also excluded from a family outing and the photos posted on Facebook. It felt like a punch to the heart. But my son doesn’t acknowledge any responsibility for my hurt. Did he gaslight me?BIRTH MOMI feel compassion for you and your birth son as you try to navigate a delicate reunion across 3,000 miles and five decades. I have no doubt that this wedding episode was painful for you (and possibly for him, too, if he had to haggle with his disapproving wife over your place at her son’s wedding). Still, I suspect that seating is not the central issue here.From my vantage — at a safe distance from the emotional roller coaster, as you call it — I see productive takeaways for both of you: Work on your relationship one on one, for now, and avoid engaging with people in each other’s lives who don’t support your reunion. I can’t imagine why his wife has taken such an unkind position toward you, but she has, and she is a major figure in his life.Adoption often brings up powerful feelings of abandonment and guilt. It may be helpful to arrange for some therapy for you and your son on video calls. I don’t minimize the “heart connection” you feel, but there may be other strong emotions at play, too. You should air all of them in the safety of your private relationship — or with the help of a counselor, if you like the idea.Miguel PorlanFuming That Her Treat Was Not Their TreatToday, my sister-in-law sent me a Venmo request for $19.18 for frozen yogurt that she and my brother offered to pick up for us when they picked up their own orders. They are wealthy, with expensive habits like designer sneakers, and they never offer to pay for anything when they come home because our parents are so generous. My partner and I routinely buy them presents when we visit them. This year, they didn’t even thank us for our holiday gifts. Am I unreasonable for being incensed about this Venmo request?We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

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    My Sister Chose the Day She Wanted to Die

    Should terminally ill people be able to choose how they die? Six years after being diagnosed with advanced ovarian cancer, Julie Petrow-Cohen decided to use medical aid in dying — or MAID, as it is often called — to end her life. But for many Americans in similar circumstances, this is not an option. In this audio essay, the writer Steven Petrow shares the story of his sister’s last day and why MAID should be a right for everyone.Read Steven’s guest essay on Julie’s decision here.(A full transcript of this audio essay will be available by Monday.)Illustration by Akshita Chandra/The New York Times; Photograph by Steven PetrowThe Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips. And here’s our email: letters@nytimes.com.Follow the New York Times Opinion section on Facebook, X (@NYTOpinion) and Instagram.This episode of “The Opinions” was produced by Derek Arthur. It was edited by Kaari Pitkin. Mixing by Sonia Herrero. Original music by Isaac Jones, Carole Sabouraud and Pat McCusker. Fact-checking by Mary Marge Locker. Audience strategy by Kristina Samulewski and Shannon Busta. Special thanks to Joanna Pearlstein, Hans Buetow and the “Modern Love” podcast team. More

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    A Midwestern Republican Stands Up for Trans Rights

    As 2023 slouches to an ignominious end, some news came Friday that gave me an unexpected jolt of hope. I have spent much of the year watching with horror and trying to document an unrelenting legal assault on queer and trans people. Around 20 states have passed laws restricting access to gender-affirming care for trans and nonbinary people, and several have barred transgender and nonbinary people from using bathrooms that align with their gender identity.So it was shocking — in a good way, for once — to hear these words from Ohio’s Republican governor, Mike DeWine, as he vetoed a bill that would have banned puberty blockers and hormones and gender-affirming surgeries for trans and nonbinary minors in Ohio and blocked transgender girls and women from participating in sports as their chosen gender:“Were House Bill 68 to become law, Ohio would be saying that the state, that the government, knows better what is medically best for a child than the two people who love that child the most — the parents,” DeWine said in prepared remarks. “Parents are making decisions about the most precious thing in their life, their child, and none of us, none of us, should underestimate the gravity and the difficulty of those decisions.”DeWine, by situating his opposition to the bill on the chosen battlefield of far-right activists — parents’ rights — was tapping into an idiom that is at once deeply familiar to me and yet has almost entirely disappeared from our national political discourse: that of a mainstream, Midwestern Republican. It is a voice I know well because it is one I heard all my life from my Midwestern Republican grandparents.I did not agree with all of their beliefs, especially as I got older. But I understood where they were coming from. My grandfather, a belly gunner in the Pacific Theater in World War II, believed a strong military was essential to American security. My grandmother was a nurse, and she believed that science, medicine and innovation made America stronger. They made sure their children and grandchildren went to college — education was a crucial element of their philosophy of self-reliance. And above all, they believed the government should be small and stay out of people’s lives as much as humanly possible. This last belief, in individual freedom and individual responsibility, was the bedrock of their politics.And so I am not surprised that defeats keep coming for anti-transgender activists. At the ballot box, hard-right candidates in swing states have tried to persuade voters with lurid messaging about children being subjected to grisly surgeries and pumped full of unnecessary medications. But in race after race, the tactic has failed.Legally, the verdict has been more mixed, which is unsurprising given how politically polarized the judiciary has become. This week a federal judge in Idaho issued a preliminary ruling that a ban on transgender care for minors could not be enforced because it violated the children’s 14th Amendment rights and that “parents should have the right to make the most fundamental decisions about how to care for their children.” The state is expected to appeal the decision.In June, a federal court blocked an Arkansas ban on gender-affirming care for minors. “The evidence showed that the prohibited medical care improves the mental health and well-being of patients,” the ruling said, “and that, by prohibiting it, the state undermined the interests it claims to be advancing” of protecting children and safeguarding medical ethics. In 2021, Asa Hutchinson, then the governor, had vetoed the ban for reasons similar to DeWine, but the Arkansas Legislature overrode his veto. (The Ohio Legislature also has a supermajority of Republicans and may decide to override DeWine’s veto.)In other states, like Texas and Missouri, courts have permitted bans to go into effect, forcing families to make very difficult decisions about whether to travel to receive care or move to a different state altogether. The issue seems destined to reach the Supreme Court soon. The A.C.L.U. has asked the Supreme Court to hear its challenge to the care ban in Tennessee on behalf of a 15-year-old transgender girl. Given how swiftly and decisively the court moved to gut abortion rights, it seems quite possible that the conservative supermajority could choose to severely restrict access to transgender health care for children or even adults.But maybe not. After all, the overturning of Roe has deeply unsettled the country, unleashing a backlash that has delivered unexpected victories to Democrats and abortion-rights advocates. Ohio voters just chose by a wide margin to enshrine the right to end a pregnancy in the state Constitution.This is why I think DeWine’s veto speaks to a much bigger truth: Americans simply do not want the government making decisions about families’ private medical care. Polling on abortion finds a wide array of views on the morality of ending a pregnancy at various points up to viability, but one thing is crystal clear: Large majorities of Americans believe that the decision to have an abortion is none of the government’s business.Rapidly changing norms around gender have many people’s heads spinning, and I understand how unsettling that can be. Gender is one of the most basic building blocks of identity, and even though gender variations of many kinds have been with us for millenniums, the way these changes are being lived out feel, to some people, like a huge disruption to their way of life. Even among people who think of themselves as liberal or progressive, there has been a sense that gender-affirming care has become too easily accessible, and that impressionable children are making life-changing decisions based on social media trends.It has become a throwaway line in some media coverage of transgender care in the United States that even liberal European countries are restricting care for transgender children. But this is a misleading notion. No democracy in Europe has banned, let alone criminalized, care, as many states have done in the United States. What has happened is that under increasing pressure from the right, politicians in some countries have begun to limit access to certain kinds of treatments for children through their socialized health systems, in which the government pays for care and has always placed limits on what types are available. In those systems, budgetary considerations have always determined how many people will be able to get access to treatments.But private care remains legal and mostly accessible to those who can afford it.Republicans are passing draconian laws in the states where they have total control, laws that could potentially lead to parents being charged with child abuse for supporting their transgender children or threaten doctors who treat transgender children with felony convictions. These statutes have no analog in free Europe, but they have strong echoes of laws in Russia, which is increasingly criminalizing every aspect of queer life. These extreme policies have no place in any democratic society.Which brings me back to my Midwestern Republican grandparents, Goldwater and Reagan partisans to their core. My grandfather died long before Donald Trump ran for president, and 2016 was the first presidential election in which my grandmother did not vote for the Republican candidate. But she did not vote for Hillary Clinton, choosing another candidate she declined to name to me. Like a lot of Republicans, she really didn’t like Clinton, and one of the big reasons was her lifelong opposition to government health care. She didn’t want government bureaucrats coming between her and her doctors, she told me.I think many, many Americans agree with that sentiment. Transgender people are no different. They don’t want government bureaucrats in their private business.“I’ve been saying for years that trans people are a priority for enemies and an afterthought to our friends,” Gillian Branstetter, a strategist who works on transgender issues at the A.C.L.U., told me. “I’ve made it my job to try and help people understand that transgender rights are human rights, not just because transgender people are human people, but because the rights we’re fighting for are grounded in really core democratic principles, like individualism and self-determination.”Those are core American values, but 2024 is an election year, and even though transphobia has proved to be a loser at the ballot box, many Republicans are sure to beat that drum anyway. Mike DeWine has me hoping that some Republicans will remember what was once a core principle of their party, and embrace the simple plain-spoken truth of my heartland forebears: Keep the government out of my life, and let me be free to live as I choose.The Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips. And here’s our email: letters@nytimes.com.Follow the New York Times Opinion section on Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, X and Threads. More

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    He’s No Jack Kennedy

    Let’s just go ahead and say the quiet part out loud: Robert Kennedy Jr. — the nephew of John F. Kennedy, the son of Robert F. Kennedy — is a bit of a crank.This is not breaking news. The 69-year-old scion of America’s most famous political family has been peddling anti-vaccine hysteria since long before Covid-19 made it trendy, along with a spicy stew of other conspiracy theories. Notable offerings: that the 2004 presidential election was stolen by Republicans, psychopharmaceuticals are responsible for mass shootings and the C.I.A. had a hand in the assassination of his uncle.But now Mr. Kennedy is looking to take his screwball act prime time, challenging President Biden for the 2024 Democratic presidential nomination. The troubling part is that this guy has a non-negligible degree of support.Multiple polls from recent months show backing for Mr. Kennedy hovering around 20 percent among Democratic-inclined voters — not enough to pose an existential threat to Mr. Biden, but sufficient to give some in the party the jitters. The last thing Democrats want is some conspiracy-mongering fringe dweller highlighting the vulnerability of the party’s re-election-seeking incumbent. And the last thing the American public needs in this twitchy political moment is another high-profile circus act.It’s no mystery what’s going on. The only reason anyone cares what Mr. Kennedy thinks or says is because of his political pedigree. The Kennedy name ain’t what it used to be, but it still speaks to plenty of voters. (Sooo much Camelot nostalgia lingering out there.) In a recent CNN poll, 64 percent of Democratic voters and leaners said they would support or at least consider supporting Mr. Kennedy’s White House run, with 20 percent of those who would consider it citing his political lineage as the top reason.This is about more than one overromanticized family. The American electorate has a long-running, if tortured, romance with political dynasties in general. We love to grumble about them. Another Bush running for office? Another Clinton? Come on. But we also love to embrace them, up and down the political ladder. Just ask the Roosevelts or the Udalls or the Sununus or the scores of other clans for whom politics has become the family business.There is nothing inherently wrong with this inclination. In many ways, voters going with the devil they think they know makes perfect sense — but only if they avoid letting a candidate’s familiar name become a lazy substitute for a real measure of the person.Many Americans find the whole concept of political dynasties distasteful. Legacy politicians can carry a whiff of inherited power and entitlement that seems downright undemocratic. Way back in 2013, when the political world was waiting for Jeb Bush to become the third member of his family to run for president, his doting mother, Barbara, shared her reservations: “I think it’s a great country, there are a lot of great families, and it’s not just four families or whatever,” she told the “Today” show. “There are other people out there that are very qualified, and we’ve had enough Bushes.”This maternal wisdom proved painfully on point for poor Jeb. And, several years on, the Republican Party has gone all in on trashing “professional politicians” — or pretty much anyone with a clue about or an interest in how government works. The more ignorant and unqualified you are, the more the base loves you. (See: Marjorie Taylor Greene.)Still, no one is entitled to any elective office by virtue of their birth. That said, there is a case to make in appreciation of candidates who hail from families that take public service seriously and who are familiar with the weird world of politics. Exhibit A is Nancy Pelosi, the most formidable and effective House speaker in more than 60 years, who learned much about her craft growing up in a local Democratic dynasty in Baltimore.Plenty of Americans follow their families into a particular field, be it the military, law enforcement, teaching, acting or journalism. So if George P. Bush wants to run for this or that office in his home state of Texas, more power to him. And if voters choose to smack him down, as they did in the Republican primary for state attorney general last year, good on them. (Although sticking with Ken Paxton instead? Really?)But there is a dark side to all of this. Certain dynastic players can begin to feel — and behave — as though they are entitled to elected office, treating the honor as if it is not something to be earned so much as handed down like a family heirloom or a dry-cleaning business. That way inevitably leads to trouble.Just as problematic, and far more common, is when voters treat a well-known political name as a substitute for seriously vetting a candidate’s fitness for office. As one poll respondent mused to CNN about the colorful Mr. Kennedy: “I liked his dad (R.F.K.) and his uncle (J.F.K.) a lot. I would hope he has a similar mind-set.” Woo, boy. Cross your fingers that this voter does some due diligence before casting a ballot.Being born into a political family doesn’t magically make you qualified for office. As the scholar Stephen Hess, who literally wrote the book on America’s political dynasties, has pointed out, the offspring of these high-powered clans all too frequently turn out to be extremely … problematic. At the risk of sounding harsh, for every Beau Biden, there is a Hunter.Seriously, if you think Mr. Kennedy’s presidential aspirations are troubling — and you should — best start trying to wrap your mind around what a Trump dynasty could look like. Governor Ivanka? Senator Jared? President Don Jr.? Mock if you must. But spend a minute on the campaign trail with Don Jr. and it’s clear he has developed a taste for it. And voters in the Republican base love him.As chilling as this thought may be, it points to the democratic twist that America has put on political royalty. Our dynasties are not fixed. As Mr. Hess has noted, they are forever shifting and expanding. Influential families fall out of favor even as new ones rise up. And anyone can aspire to start their own power clan. Which makes it all the more important for voters to pay attention and refuse to give an easy pass to any candidate, no matter how storied his or her family tree.The Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips. And here’s our email: letters@nytimes.com.Follow The New York Times Opinion section on Facebook, Twitter (@NYTopinion) and Instagram. More

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    Trump Is Back, to Tear Our Families Apart Once More

    My cousin back in rural Illinois, where I grew up and where most of my family still lives, sent me a nice note over Facebook the other day. She saw I had a novel coming out and told me she was proud of me and couldn’t wait to read it. I thanked her and said I’d love to catch lunch the next time I’m in town. She said that would be nice.Then she added: “And no politics … I promise!”I promised as well. We’re going to do our best to honor that promise. But it’s getting harder. Again.Families across America that were so divided by the Trump era have only started to heal in the last couple of years — and now we’re facing the real possibility of a sequel.I’m dreading, and I sense that she and many other Americans are dreading, having to go through this gantlet so soon again. Politics have divided families in ugly ways, and I do sense that the Biden era, for many, has been a chance to try to heal. But the wounds may be about to be reopened.One of the implicit, but central, selling points of a Joe Biden presidency was that, if he did his job right, the average American wouldn’t have to pay much attention to him. The “normalcy” Mr. Biden vowed to return us to was partly about making the executive branch a functioning arm of government again, and about no longer being the (very scary) joke that the country had become globally during the Donald Trump presidency.But at home, for many Americans, it was about something simpler than that: It was about returning to a world where we did not have to talk and fight about politics all the time. It was about being in your own home, among your own family and being able to forget, if just for a little while, that politics were happening at all — or at least assume that reasonable people were taking care of it.The Trump years made this impossible, and the ubiquitousness of politics, the sense that you had to be screaming about the state of the world at all times, fractured families across the country. What had once been merely some awkward moments at Thanksgiving became constant fissures pitting kids against parents, siblings against siblings, generation against generation.Some of these fissures became ruptures, or even chasms: I have one friend who clashed with his in-laws over Mr. Trump so dramatically that they still haven’t met their 3-year-old granddaughter. The constant and inescapable political discourse of 2015 to 2021 frayed every bond of American society, perhaps family most of all.But there has been a quiet change the last couple of years. These disagreements have not gone away: The world is as perilous and fraught as it has always been. But since Mr. Trump left office, you’ve been able to find moments of escape and respite, and even, yes, normalcy. There have not been constant presidential tweets; there has not been a ban on travel from several predominantly Muslim countries; whatever verbal gaffes Mr. Biden might make, you have felt fairly confident he’d never refer to another country with a scatological vulgarity.Things have not been perfect, and there are still people desperately trying to fight about everything — there’s always that relative who insists on making sure you saw his “Let’s Go Brandon” hat. But with the easing of a pandemic that scrambled the planet, you have been able to walk around in the world for at least a few minutes at a time without worrying that it would explode. Maybe you even mended some fences with the people who, no matter how much you may disagree with them, you love. (My friend’s daughter finally has a meeting with her grandparents planned for this summer.)You could take those first steps, because, for the first time in a long time, politics hasn’t been the center of American life. But the recent CNN town hall with Mr. Trump was a reminder of storm clouds on the horizon — and these clouds look very familiar.A majority of Americans do not want to see another matchup between Mr. Biden and Mr. Trump. There are many reasons for this, yet I wonder if a big one for many people is the fear that those tumultuous times that we just went through and unceasing torrent of political battles that invaded our holiday dinner table are about to return. Trump versus Biden? This is what we just went through. We have to go through that again?And what if Ron DeSantis gets the Republican nomination over Mr. Trump? Maybe that will just lead to entirely new fights. Though considering how bruising any nomination battle that Mr. Trump loses would be — if such a battle ends at all — I suspect it won’t leave the country in a healing mood, either.My cousin and I disagree on many things, and there have been times — as when I saw her on Facebook cheering on the buses of “patriots” on their way to Washington on Jan. 5, 2021 — when I thought our relationship was essentially over. This was not long after she, someone who detasseled corn in the vast Illinois fields alongside me when we were both children, called me an “elitist deep stater.” It was difficult to wrap my mind around how much had changed: I had gone from affably disagreeing with her about Mitt Romney to wondering if she’d lost touch with reality entirely.But the fact remains: I love my cousin, and my cousin loves me. It is impossible to imagine my life, who I would be, without her place in it, and I’m sure she feels the same way. She has known me forever in a way so few people have. I’ve enjoyed reconnecting and have even thought, “If our relationship can survive 2020, it can survive anything.” But can it survive that twice? I am not sure. I suspect many families across the country are wondering the same thing.We can avoid talking about it, but it’s coming. It lurks, waiting to blast us all apart again. If you want to know why millions of Americans are so wary of a Trump-Biden sequel, that gathering storm is a big part of the answer.Will Leitch is the author, most recently, of the novel “The Time Has Come,” and is a contributing editor at New York magazine.The Times is committed to publishing a diversity of letters to the editor. We’d like to hear what you think about this or any of our articles. Here are some tips. And here’s our email: letters@nytimes.com.Follow The New York Times Opinion section on Facebook, Twitter (@NYTopinion) and Instagram. More

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    The Vice President Question: The Stakes Are High

    More from our inbox:Mike Pence, It’s Time ‘to Do the Right Thing’What Chris Rock Gets to BeStains Left on a Rare TextFamily Values? We Need to Talk About School Shootings. Illustration by Zisiga Mukulu/The New York Times; photograph by Leigh Vogel/Getty ImagesTo the Editor:Re “Voters Should Pick the Vice President,” by Greg Craig (Opinion guest essay, March 5):Mr. Craig’s article raises a larger question. The vice-presidential nominees of the two major parties are too often chosen largely or entirely because of their perceived ability to help elect their presidential running mate, rather than an apparent ability to act as president if needed.Considering the stakes, the main or sole criterion in selecting a vice-presidential nominee should be that person’s capacity to immediately and competently step into the president’s shoes, if required.Just in the last century, Presidents Woodrow Wilson, Franklin D. Roosevelt, Dwight Eisenhower and Ronald Reagan all labored under the specters of age, infirmity or both. This clearly demonstrates the national interest in vice-presidential nominees having the qualifications, experience, health and ability to competently represent the country as a whole.If a vice-presidential nominee is also a plausible national candidate in her or his own right, all the better, and having a nominee of such stature should benefit his or her party and the ticket.Over the last 50 years, some vice presidents, such as Spiro Agnew (crook), Dan Quayle (lightweight) and Dick Cheney (unelectable) were unqualified, and Mike Pence seems marginal. Lyndon B. Johnson, Nelson Rockefeller, Walter Mondale, George H.W. Bush, Al Gore and Joe Biden were clearly qualified, reflecting positively on those who chose them.The question for whoever chooses vice-presidential nominees should always be “Can this person competently lead the country?” — not “Will this person help our party get elected?”Anders I. OuromVancouver, British ColumbiaTo the Editor:I’m very grateful for “Voters Should Pick the Vice President.” Greg Craig has raised perhaps the most significant and worrying issue, however delicate, of the Biden candidacy.Given the entirely realistic concerns over President Biden’s age and chances of dying in office in a second term (and I write as an 87-year-old in decent health), the choice of a running mate shouldn’t be a reflexive decision.It should be one requiring a great deal of thought, consultation and polling about who could handle the most demanding of offices in these difficult and perilous times — and whom a wide spectrum of Democratic voters see as the most convincing possibility as their next president.Barbara QuartNew YorkTo the Editor:As our octogenarian president ponders another presidential run, he needs to consider replacing his 2020 running mate. It’s a delicate subject, sure to arouse fierce opposition within the Democratic Party (however it’s accomplished).Forget loyalty, tradition or popularity. In 2024, the top priority for selecting the second-highest elected official in the country should be proven foreign policy experience.President Biden has an age problem that he can’t control. It will be a major campaign issue that will only place greater emphasis on who would be next in line for the presidency.Continued support for Ukraine (including maintaining the broad coalition of European and NATO nations forged by President Biden) and other brewing major-power standoffs demand a vice president with longstanding, first-rate diplomatic skills.Replace Kamala Harris with Susan Rice, the longtime diplomat and policy adviser. It’s time to dispel conventional wisdom and go bold.Carl R. RameyGainesville, Fla.Mike Pence, It’s Time ‘to Do the Right Thing’ Erin Schaff/The New York TimesTo the Editor:Re “Trump Asks Judge to Block Pence’s Testimony to Grand Jury” (news article, nytimes.com, March 4):There is no doubt that former Vice President Mike Pence did the right thing (and his constitutional duty) by certifying the results of the 2020 presidential election in favor of Joe Biden.Now is the time for Mr. Pence to do the right thing by honoring the Justice Department’s subpoena to testify about his knowledge of the events before and after Jan. 6. Mr. Pence says he will fight the subpoena, citing specious legal arguments. But why?Mr. Pence, you know what former President Donald Trump did and did not do. Tell us. It is your duty as a citizen, and it is the right thing to do.William D. ZabelNew YorkThe writer is a lawyer, the chairman of Immigrant Justice Corps and the chairman emeritus of Human Rights First.To the Editor:Re “Pence Says That History Will Judge Trump” (news article, March 13):The shortcoming of former Vice President Mike Pence’s pronouncement that “history will hold Donald Trump accountable” for the former president’s lead in fomenting the violent Capitol insurrection is obvious.History’s verdict takes a long while, and it is rarely unanimous and subject to revisionism.Mr. Trump and his minions must pay the price now, and Mr. Pence should render an unequivocal verdict to that end, instead of punting into history.Justice delayed is justice denied, especially in this case.Lawrence FreemanAlameda, Calif.What Chris Rock Gets to Be Illustration by Shoshana Schultz/The New York Times; photograph by Kirill Bichutsky, via Netflix, via Associated PressTo the Editor:Re “Chris Rock Looks Very Small Right Now,” by Roxane Gay (Opinion guest essay, nytimes.com, March 11):Chris Rock’s recent Netflix special certainly deserves critique, but Ms. Gay’s article gets one thing very wrong. As the target of another man’s violence, Mr. Rock is not responsible for entertaining us with his response to that attack, nor redeeming himself with the right joke.He gets to just be angry.Catherine HodesFlorence, Mass.Stains Left on a Rare TextTo glove, or not to glove? For rare book librarians, there’s no question. The best option is (almost) always clean, dry hands.Chris Ratcliffe/Getty ImagesTo the Editor:“For Rare Book Librarians, It’s Gloves Off. Seriously” (Arts, March 11) notes that stains left on a rare book tell us something about who has used it in the past.I was once privileged to see the original Sarajevo Haggadah, one of the oldest extant Passover Haggadahs. It dates to the 14th century.I was deeply moved to see this ancient text. But what I remember best were the wine stains on some of the pages. Clearly, long before this book had become a priceless object listed on UNESCO’s Memory of the World register, someone had used it at a Seder and had, as still happens in the 21st century, spilled their wine on it.Deborah E. LipstadtWashingtonThe writer is the professor of Holocaust history, currently on leave from Emory University.Family Values? We Need to Talk About School Shootings. Illustration by The New York Times; Photographs by Getty ImagesTo the Editor:Re “The Party of Family Values Should Truly Value Families,” by Patrick T. Brown (Opinion guest essay, March 9):The idea of a political “parents’ party” may be a good one, but the total absence of any discussion regarding school shootings is glaring. Republicans won’t be much of a parents’ party if they can’t figure out how to deal with an issue that parents and their children think about every day.Jeff WelchLivingston, Mont. More