The Cautionary Tale That is Florida
And Why I Let My Parents Move There
My parents called me last week filled with joy because they had just registered to vote. This wasn’t a sudden new interest in politics; as my dad has proudly told me many, many times, he’s voted in every election since JFK’s 1960 bid. But they’ve spent most of those 64 years voting in Democratic strongholds.
Sure, sure, every vote counts, yada yada, but sometimes us blue state voters feel powerless, less important, and left out of presidential elections. We’re jealous of voters in swing states who get all the attention and even envy those in red states who maybe, just maybe, could be part of a purple wave. (To be clear, we’re only jealous in leap years. All other times, we are happy to enjoy the perks of a liberal bubble, like not dying from an ectopic pregnancy.)
But Nana and Papa recently left ever-blue New Jersey for the unsafe waters of Florida with its hurricanes, crocodiles, don’t say gay laws, 6-week abortion ban, and wannabe dictator governor. Granted it’s not 2000 when Tim Russert wrote “Florida, Florida, Florida” on his handheld whiteboard and we all spent weeks crossing our fingers and talking about hanging chads. (We’re pretty sure that my great aunt was one of the 2,000 Palm Beach Democrats who read the butterfly ballot wrong and voted for Pat Buchanan.) Nobody expects Florida to be anything other than red, but at this point it should serve as a cautionary tale of the kind of autocracy red states want to impose.
Ron DeSantis may have flamed out on the national stage where he was too far to the right and not nearly charismatic enough to get any traction, but he’s still in charge in the Sunshine State where he’s getting just a little too big for his cowboy boots (which may or may not have lifts in them). In the months before he flopped bigly—when people were still talking about him as the second coming of Donald Trump—Ron went after all things woke including Mickey Mouse. Now he’s using the power of state agencies and even the state police to try to prevent a fair vote on an amendment protecting abortion rights.
You could say it started when DeSantis signed the infamous “don’t say gay” law. He was ridiculed by comedians everywhere and chastised by civil rights organizations and corporations across the country, including Disney (which is big with the gays and ranks as the third largest employer in Florida). One could argue that Disney has more power in Florida than the state government, but Ron fought back anyhow.
The specifics of that war—a complicated mess of who controlled the local government in-and-around the park—are most notable for revealing DeSantis as a leader eager to use his power to punish “enemies” despite what it might cost his constituents. (Many legal scholars agreed that if DeSantis’s plan went through, Disney would owe less in taxes, and local residents would be forced to make up the shortfall.)
Ultimately, DeSantis settled with Disney and—like most petty dictators—declared victory despite having ceded most demands to the mouse. As a headline on the legal analysis site Above the Law put it, “Ron DeSantis Claims Victory Over Disney And All He Had To Do Was Give Disney Everything They Wanted.”
He settled over the most extreme parts of his “don’t say gay” law too. The Parental Rights in Education Act was not the first “no homo promo” law passed by a state—the tactic was popular in the 1990s—but DeSantis’s presidential run, the law’s long reach, and the bizarre provision that seemed to encourage parents to sue school districts for perceived non-compliance garnered a lot of attention. Educators and parents warned that the law would prevent discussion of gay-themed literature, historical figures political events, and—on the personal side—the families of students and teachers. Lawyers warned that the law violated Floridians right to free speech.
A group of parents and advocates sued the state, and a settlement was announced in March of this year. The settlement language makes it clear that the law does not restrict references to LGBTQ people or issues in literature, classroom discussions, or students’ work. It also does not prohibit anti-bullying lessons, Gay-Straight Alliance clubs, school plays with LGBTQ characters or themes, safe spaces in school, or rainbow flags. Teachers and students are allowed to talk about their LGBTQ parents, spouses, and siblings. And, unlike some classic “no homo promo” laws, teachers must be neutral on the topic rather than suggesting that heterosexuality is somehow superior.
DeSantis, however, was able to claim victory because the law still prohibits instruction on sexual orientation and gender in kindergarten through eighth grade. He’d also passed a rule (without bothering to run it by the legislature) that extended this prohibition through senior year.
Ron’s efforts to gut sex education didn’t stop there. A 2023 law changed the rules to require all schools to “teach abstinence from sexual activity outside of marriage as the expected standard for all school-age students.” (Like Ron’s “don’t say gay” law, this is a 1990s re-tread. The language comes directly from the federal government’s failed billion dollar-plus investment in telling kids to just say no. I’m sure it will work just as well in Florida.)
That same law says that Florida’s Department of Education must sign off on all plans if/when a school district chooses to use materials other than the state designated textbook. All districts had to send their chosen curricula to the department by September of last year, but the state took its sweet time in replying. Nobody heard nothing. For the 2023-24 school year, some districts went ahead with plans despite not having approval while others self-censored and skipped sex ed altogether.
Right before the current school year started, districts began hearing from the state. Broward County Public Schools, the sixth largest district in the country, was told it had to remove pictures of reproductive anatomy, demonstrations on how to use contraception, and discussions of “different types of sex (i.e., anal, oral, and vaginal)” at any grade level. The district was also reminded by state officials that contraceptives can only be mentioned as a “health resource.” (Anyone want to take a guess as to what that means? I’m betting it’s not about telling students that birth control pills can help with cramps or lower your risk of ovarian cancer.) Some schools in the state were also told not to use the word “fluids,” which makes it very hard to teach about HIV (and possibly Chemistry).
State officials stand by their decision. A spokesperson said, “A state government should not be emphasizing or encouraging sexual activity among children or minors and is therefore right to emphasize abstinence.” To be clear, we live in a society that emphasizes sex, but teaching about contraception and STIs has never been found to encourage it. In fact, better educated teens tend to make better decision (shocking, I know).
We don’t know how many Florida teens are having sex because the state stopped asking under the equally false logic that asking kids whether they have sex will encourage them to do so. We do know that Florida has high rates of HIV and other STIs, and that it’s Surgeon General believes MRNA vaccines turn you into a mutant. (Fine, that last one is mostly unrelated, but it is further proof that the state education and public health system is failing everyone.)
We also know that Florida is fighting over abortion, and that DeSantis is once acting like a petty dictator. The state passed a 6-week abortion ban meaning women lose their right to terminate a pregnancy right around the time they find out they’re pregnant if not a little before. A lot of Floridians don’t want this, so they collected signatures to get an amendment protecting abortion rights (now known as Amendment 4) onto the November ballot. Over one million people signed the petition.
Republicans are scared of ballot measures like this one because thus far abortion rights always win. DeSantis’s government is trying like hell to influence this vote, and the tricks keep getting dirtier. First, they fought to keep Amendment 4 off the ballot, but the FL Supreme Court didn’t buy their argument. Then the state police began showing up at the homes of people who signed the petition to get it on the ballot. While they claimed to be investigating fraud, the real goal seems to be intimidating potential voters. (Do the state police in Florida really have nothing better to do?)
Around the same time, the Florida Agency for Health Care Administration (ACHA) put up a website designed to mislead voters about what the Amendment 4 would do. The ACHA is the state agency that monitors abortion providers. Under the banner “Florida is protecting health, don’t let the fearmongers lie to you,” the agency falsely says that “Amendment 4 threatens women’s health.” It goes on to imply that passing the amendment would force women into unsanitary back-alley abortions because the regulations that make sure clinics are clean and abortion providers are licensed would suddenly disappear. (The hypocrisy here is stellar as well.) The site also suggests that Amendment 4 would take away the state’s parental consent rule and minors could get abortions willy nilly.
That’s not how it f**king works.
The amendment protects the overall right to an abortion before viability and/or when necessary for the health of the pregnant person as determined by their doctor. The state would still have regulatory powers. Moreover, the current constitutional provision requiring parental consent would stay in place. (It seems pretty straightforward, but Donald Trump can’t remember whether he’s supposed to vote for or against it.) In September, the ACLU filed a lawsuit against the state for using taxpayer’s money for this political disinformation campaign.
Now, less than a month before election day, DeSantis is turning his attention to political ads on television. An ad that ran during the Vance/Walz debate introduces Caroline, a mother from Tampa. Caroline plaintively tells viewers that she was diagnosed with brain cancer when she was pregnant, “The doctors knew that if I did not end my pregnancy, I would lose my baby, I would lose my life, and my daughter would lose her mom. Florida has now banned abortion … even in cases like mine. Amendment 4 is gonna protect women like me.”
The Department of Health sent a notice to the local station that ran the ad saying that it violated section 386.01 of Florida law that allows the state to remove any "nuisance" that "threatens or impairs" people’s health. (And yet the Surgeon General is still in office?) The state agency threatened to begin legal action against the station if it continued to air the ad. Let me say that one again: a state agency threatened legal action against a television station for airing an opposition ad. You know who thinks that political advertisements from the other side are a “nuisance?” Okay, everyone. But you know who threatens legal action against political ads from the other side? Dictators (or in Ron’s case petty, wannabe dictators).
All this begs one very important question: why did I let my parents move to Florida?
It’s fair to ask.
Obviously, my parents are adults who can move wherever they’d like. I didn’t ship them off them to Florida. That said, it was kinda my idea. Everyone they knew in their hometown had either moved out or moved on (yes, that’s a euphemism). It was time for them to do the same (no, that’s not a threat). Like most older people who downsize, it made sense to move close to a support network of children and grandchildren. I live in a suburb of NYC; the politics are good, but the property taxes are killer. My sister lives in Florida; the politics suck, but they were able to find an affordable apartment within 15 minutes of her that has a water view from every room.
They haven’t been able to move into said apartment yet because it needs new windows. Nonetheless, they are Florida homeowners who have no other address and as such should be entitled to vote. The original information they were given, however, suggested they need to get new driver’s licenses and register their car before they could register to vote, a process complicated by the fact that all of their stuff is in storage and my mom couldn’t find an original copy of her birth certificate.
Turns out none of that was true. (What, disinformation spreading in Florida?!! I’m shocked, shocked, I tells you!!) At the suggestion of a soon-to-be-neighbor who is also horrified by DeSantis, they drove an hour to the nearest Board of Elections office and were pleasantly surprised by how helpful the state employees were.
When I say they were giddy with excitement about being registered Florida voters, I am not exaggerating. This move to Florida has been a bit of an ordeal. It started way back in April with the cleaning out 52+ years of a stuff. (I’m not saying they’re hoarders. But they’re not not hoarders and—contrary to family lore—it’s not all my dad’s fault.) The move was almost stymied by a 50-year-old septic tank and an 83-year-old hip. And the lead time for window manufacturing has meant they’ve been living with one daughter or the other since mid-July.
The light at end of the tunnel will be those water views, but it’s looking less and less like that will happen before election day. Not getting to vote would have been almost too much to bear. (Did my dad tell you that he’s voted in every presidential election since JFK? He tells me pretty much every time we speak.)
But fear not… Nana and Papa are voting, and by my extremely careful calculations, those two extra votes should be all we need to tip the state blue. (Trust me, the math checks out.)
Sex On Wednesday Turns Four! Want a Tee-Shirt?
I started this newsletter (blog?) on October 7th 2020. The kids were homeschooling downstairs, and I hid on the third floor to write the first issue. We were in the middle of a pandemic and just weeks away from an election that Donald Trump could possibly win.
Time has been weird and almost meaningless since then. I can’t believe that one of those daughters doing homeschool in my kitchen has left for college anymore than I can believe that we’re facing the yet another election that Donald Trump could possibly win.
I love writing Sex On Wednesday. It’s been cathartic in these weird times, and I am very grateful that so many of you have subscribed and continue to read it each week. As I’ve been saying in footnotes like the one below, I’m trying to grow my subscriber base. So, in honor of our fourth birthday, I’m making you a deal like the one I made a few years ago.
Forward Sex On Wednesday to four people (or 40 or 400 if you’re so inclined) and then send an email to me at martha@sexonwednesday.com saying that you’ve done it. No proof required. I trust you. At the end of the month, I’ll draw four names and send the lucky winners a “That’s not how it f**king works” tee-shirt and some matching stickers.