A Word about Spineless from a Dancer
The word “spineless” has been much in the news of late. Vice President Mike Pence has been called it so many times, it’s near impossible to count. New York Times writer Michelle Cottle asked if the Republican Party would “…have the spine to rein in Marjorie Taylor Greene?” Spineless is not a new term. In 1952, then-Senator Richard Nixon called the Democrats “spineless” for their handling of Moscow. Senators will have their chance to locate their spines in the upcoming impeachment trial.
I first heard the word when I was six years old. My mom was having a rare cry, so I cuddled up into her lap and asked, why the tears? She explained that her dad would not be coming to my sister’s graduation and blurted out, “He’s spineless.” I imaged my Grandpa’s body made of Jell-O, wobbling down the street, no bones to hold him up.
For those flopping about like Jell-O, what would be the process to re-establish a spine? Let’s first look to the anatomy of the spine.
As a dance educator, I have had the privilege of viewing the spine in a cadaver lab. Everything protects the spinal cord, since it is so vital to life itself. First wrapped in cerebral spinal fluid, a viscous bath allows the spinal cord to move gently. After sheaths of protection from fascia, the bony vertebrae surround it with big thorny spikes, not allowing anything to come close. Then, tiny and large extensor muscles wrap the vertebrae, providing the outside sentries. The spine, when working efficiently, is deliciously fluid and marvelously strong.
If we liken the spinal cord to our core values, the metaphor resonates. The first layer of protection is a viscous fluid which signals the ability to adapt, learn, and shift when we see our values in conflict with our behavior. In Mia Mingus’ marvelous article, The Four Parts to Accountability, she posits that self-reflection begins the journey toward a genuine apology. Oddly enough, looking inward and remaining fluid are key to the strength of a backbone.
The lack of fluidity and a resulting rigid spine have been clearly on display by such Senators as Ted Cruz of Texas and Josh Hawley of Missouri as they continue to defend their blatantly opportunist instincts. Hawley says he will “never apologize” and Cruz wraps himself in a cloak of righteous double speak.
The spine seeks the right balance between strength and fluidity. So far Senator Lindsey Graham and Minority Leader Kevin McCarthy have erred on the side of Jell-O. The lack of bone strength is almost comical if it weren’t so dangerous. After the mob stalked the Capitol, Trump’s golfing buddy Graham said, “Count me out, enough is enough,” and the next week, he flew to Texas on Air Force One. McCarthy declared the “President bears responsibility” right after the insurrection, then reversed himself the next week, saying, “I don’t believe he provoked it…”
These are all blatant attempts to save face, which is about maintaining the outer surface of what is seen by others. Re-constructing a spine requires an ability to speak and act according to our conscious.
U.S. Representatives Liz Cheney and Adam Kinzinger have both been censored by their respective local Republican parties for their vote of conscious to impeach Trump. In the moments when we have everything to lose — power, reputation or a loved one — the spiky thorns of the vertebrae are needed to withstand the blowback that we will inevitably encounter.
The outer muscular sentries of the spine stretch and contract, creating action. Every choice exercises our abilities to determine right from wrong. For many, the assault on the Capitol was a turning point, but did they not see it coming? Was it not enough when peaceful protesters for Black Lives Matter were tear-gassed in order to clear the space for a photo op, or name the moment? It’s never too late to re-construct the spine, but we must recognize that horrific damage can be done while we wait.
My Grandpa’s spine failed him when he didn’t say “no” to my wicked step-grandmother, and in the process unknowingly lost his daughter. Each unethical choice takes us further away from ourselves, and our bodies feel the pain. The spinal cord sends out warnings in the form of headaches, upset stomachs, and aching backs. Ultimately, if we disconnect regularly, dis-ease is the result. Senator Brown from Ohio tweeted about Republicans, “Their spinelessness is a danger to our democracy.” He is right. The country is facing dis-ease.
We now know, all too viscerally, that human behaviors rooted in ego, ambition, and righteousness, can undo our democracy. As we move forward and vote once again, we the people need to consider the content of one’s character as important, if not more, than the policies we agree upon.
Hopefully, with time and reflection, we can restore the resilient spine of democracy.
Jan Erkert is a professor and the head of the Department of Dance at the University of Illinois. She is the author of “Harnessing the Wind,” and is currently writing “Drink the Wild Air, A Sensorial Journey Through Leadership.” She is a 2020–21 Public Voices Fellow of the national OpEd Project.
