SUMMARY: The Oklahoma City Ballet is collaborating with the Dance for Parkinson’s group for a unique performance during Mother’s Day weekend. The program blends ballet with music by The Flaming Lips, offering a thrilling and technical experience. The performance emphasizes life’s complexity, showcasing the beauty of movement and human connection. The Dance for Parkinson’s participants will join the OKC Ballet dancers, highlighting the therapeutic power of dance and music. Studies show such activities can slow Parkinson’s progression. The performance runs May 9-11 at the Civic Center Music Hall, with tickets starting at \$20.
OKC Ballet collaborates with Dance for Parkinson’s group for unique performance
www.thecentersquare.com – By Brandon Arnold | National Taxpayers Union – (The Center Square – ) 2025-05-02 08:41:00
Hi Oklahoma! I’m from Maryland, one of the bluest and most progressive states in the country. Our taxes are way too high. Our spending is out of control. Our state’s finances are a total mess.
But it could get worse. If Congress can’t get its act together, Oklahoma taxpayers and residents of other red states across the country might help bail out Maryland with an enormous tax cut for our wealthiest residents.
That’s the way the state and local tax deduction works, better known as SALT. If you’re not familiar with SALT, it is basically a blue state tax scheme. It allows wealthier taxpayers to deduct what they pay in state and local taxes from their taxable federal income.
That might sound innocuous, or even appealing at first, since it decreases taxes for some people. Yes, cutting taxes is usually a good thing, but this is not your typical tax cut. It’s actually a scheme that has allowed certain states to boost taxes on their residents with the understanding that the federal government will shoulder much of that cost when taxpayers deduct their massive state tax bill from their federal income taxes.
This has effectively shifted the overall tax burden away from wealthy people in high tax states and onto working class people in lower tax states.
That’s why the 2017 Trump tax cuts – more formally, the Tax Cuts and Jobs Act – wisely placed a $10,000 cap on the SALT deduction, which helps to blunt its harmful impact.
But at the end of this year, most of the Trump tax cuts, including the SALT cap, are scheduled to expire. We can’t let that happen.
Congress needs to make sure the Trump tax cuts are locked in permanently. And part of that legislation must include keeping the SALT deduction capped. If the SALT cap disappears, it would provide a tax cut of almost $1 trillion, nearly 60% which would go to just five states: Maryland, Connecticut, California, New Jersey, and New York. People who make more than $200,000 would claim 93% of the tax benefit.
Not coincidentally, the states with the worst, least competitive tax systems in the country just so happen to be (descending order): Maryland, Connecticut, California, New Jersey, and New York. Allowing the SALT cap to disappear is essentially rewarding these states for their bad, anti-taxpayer policies.
Meanwhile, most residents of lower tax states would get peanuts. This means the overall burden of federal taxation would shift away from high-tax blue states and toward states like Oklahoma that have done a better job on taxes and spending.
There’s no other way of saying it: that’s incredibly unfair.
It comes down to this: lifting or removing the SALT cap would encourage lawmakers in Annapolis, Sacramento, Albany, and other capital cities to double down on their harmful policies. It will give them a free pass to spend even more and boost their tax rates even higher knowing full well that their higher state tax bills will effectively be passed along to federal taxpayers.
Already, these highly progressive states have shown a tremendous penchant for not just overtaxing their residents, but also overspending.
Just look at the eye-popping stats. On a per resident basis, California spends more than $10,500, Maryland spends nearly $11,000, and New York spends a little more than $11,000. Compare that to Oklahoma, with per-resident spending around $7,200. Or to fast-growing states like Florida and Texas that spend about half of what blue states are spending: $5,200 and $4,500 per resident, respectively.
As Congress debates Trump’s “One Big Beautiful Bill,” politicians from the high-tax, high-spending states are trying to significantly raise or even eliminate the SALT cap. They are raising a stink in Congress and threatening to tank the entire bill over the issue. While I understand their frustration, their ire is directed in the wrong direction. It should be targeted at the state lawmakers in Annapolis, Sacramento, Albany, Trenton, among other state capitals, who have allowed spending to reach such exorbitant levels and financed their excessive spending with ridiculous levels of taxation.
If those state lawmakers would do a better job at managing their states’ finances, there would be no need for a SALT deduction and no need to shift the federal tax burden onto the good people of Oklahoma and other red states.
For the benefit of red states, blue states, and the entire country, we should keep SALT tightly capped and force fiscal discipline on politicians who desperately need it.
In other words, Congress shouldn’t force Oklahomans to shoulder a larger share of federal taxes in order to deliver a massive tax cut for my millionaire neighbors in deep blue Maryland. They can afford their own crab cakes.
Note: The following A.I. based commentary is not part of the original article, reproduced above, but is offered in the hopes that it will promote greater media literacy and critical thinking, by making any potential bias more visible to the reader –Staff Editor.
Political Bias Rating: Center-Right
The article presents a clear ideological stance aligned with Center-Right perspectives, primarily focused on fiscal conservatism and tax policy criticism. It frames high-tax, “blue” states such as Maryland, California, and New York as fiscally irresponsible and accuses them of overspending and relying on federal tax breaks to benefit wealthy residents. The language used (“bad, anti-taxpayer policies,” “ridiculous levels of taxation,” “free pass to spend even more”) reflects a critical tone toward progressive tax policies and state spending, which is characteristic of conservative economic arguments. The article advocates for maintaining the Trump-era SALT deduction cap, emphasizing fairness for lower-tax “red” states like Oklahoma, indicating a preference for limited government spending and tax restraint. This perspective is presented with clear normative judgment rather than neutral reporting, marking it as ideologically driven content from a Center-Right viewpoint.
Ellen Stackable recalled the moment in April 2024 when she was introduced to the CEO of Prison Journalism Project so she could discuss an ambitious plan to launch inmate-run newspapers at Oklahoma’s two women’s prisons, Mabel Bassett Correctional Center in McLoud and Dr. Eddie Warrior Correctional Center in Taft.
Stackable was the founder of Tulsa’s Poetic Justice, which for more than a decade has been offering writing classes in women’s prisons in Oklahoma and beyond. Until last year, the courses focused on creative forms of writing. The first hurdle to clear was that some of Stackable’s own board members worried that a shift into journalism might represent mission creep.
She won that one: newspapers fit with Poetic Justice’s mission of rewriting narratives to transform the story of incarceration.
Prison Journalism Project, which since 2020 has been working to create a national network of prison journalists, signed on to the effort without hesitation.
The next hurdle was the Oklahoma Department of Corrections.
“Anytime you want to do anything new in a prison, their go-to is always no,” Stackable said. “So you have to figure out how to ask in a way to get a yes.”
For that, she had an ace up her sleeve: Kay Thompson, the DOC Chief of Public Relations, worked as a reporter for the Okemah News-Leader for 10 years, covering the school board, city council meetings and local politics before moving into government positions and eventually corrections.
The top brass of DOC gathered at a gallery show of artwork created through Poetic Justice’s efforts. Stackable seized the moment to approach Thompson about the newspapers; if she was worried, she needn’t have been.
“When they brought this to me, I was super excited,” Thompson said. “I was like, yes, I’ll do whatever I can to make this happen.”
It got easier from there. Twenty women from each prison applied for ten staff positions on what would become the Mabel Basset Balance and the Warrior Standard. Applicants saw a flyer announcing the newspapers, or heard a rumor, or peeked over the shoulder of someone scribbling out a sample essay.
PJP arranged three visits to Oklahoma in the summer of 2024 to offer crash courses in best journalistic practices.
The first issues appeared 13 weeks after the effort was launched. Inaugural editorials acknowledged the challenges faced and established ambitious goals.
“These past few years have been chaotic, and we understand that change is scary,” the Balance editors wrote. “We promise to do our very best to promote and highlight issues you care about.”
The Standard editors spoke even more directly to the question of whether a prison publication could function as a true newspaper, asking tough questions and holding officials to account.
“Our goal is to set a new standard,” the editors wrote. “This doesn’t mean we don’t look for answers to questions that concern us, but it does mean we address our issues responsibly and with integrity, mindful of the fact that we are all, one way or another, in this together.”
As the publications’ third issues make their way into the world, the Balance and the Standard have been named finalists for a coveted Stillwater Award from the Society for Professional Journalists.
Not Only Good for Rehabilitation
The crimes committed by the editors and writers who run the Balance and the Standard are a sobering gut punch that stands in stark contrast to the happy camaraderie of the women as a group, a joyfulness that would surprise and delight any newsroom reporter.
The Balance meets for two hours every other Thursday; the Standard meets every other Friday. On top of researching, writing, and editing stories, staff members work full-time prison jobs.
Michelle McCutchan (left) and Kelsey Dodson (right) work at the Eddie Warrior Standard. Prisoners at the Dr. Eddie Warrior Correctional Center in Taft participate in an award-nominated prison journalism program. (Brent Fuchs/Oklahoma Watch)
The benefits of prison journalism stretch well beyond the traditional role of the Fourth Estate.
In a 2023 piece about journalism and recidivism rates for the San Quentin News, Steve Brooks said that journalism provided a sense of purpose for inmates serving life sentences and taught hard and soft skills that would be useful after an inmate was released.
“Journalism is not only good for rehabilitation; it can be a viable career choice after prison,” Brooks wrote.
Shaheen Pasha, writing in 2018 for Nieman Reports from Harvard’s Neiman Foundation, described the bridge that journalism education can build between the incarcerated and the outside world.
“For those incarcerated, the study of journalism can provide tangible skills, such as writing, critical thinking, social skills and a foundation in ethics that are invaluable on the outside, regardless of profession,” Pasha said.
Staff members of the Balance and the Standard went even further.
Reporters at both papers said journalism skills helped them come to a better understanding of other people and of themselves. They had learned the power of leaving things unsaid.
Some writers reflected on how journalism skills might have affected their ability to participate in their own legal defense.
Michelle McCutchan, a Standard co-editor who was released shortly after her last Forgotten History feature was published, recalled her attempts to over-explain her case when she went before a judge.
“I think now I have a tool,” McCutchan said. “If I’m needing to be persuasive in a way, whatever it is in the future, I really know how to focus my thoughts on a singular idea, and not jumping around to everything else.”
Kelsey Dodson, also a Standard reporter, agreed that a journalist’s skills would have been handy when she struggled, at 20, to understand the questions detectives asked her. Regardless, moving forward, the skills would prove invaluable.
“In the future, I’m going to be teaching in the R.I.S.E. program,” Dodson said, referring to an onsite cosmetology school. “Journalism will help me in becoming a teacher of anatomy and chemistry.”
The Censor
Thompson, of the DOC, was in a unique position. On the one hand, she knew that it was a reporter’s job to hold the government accountable.
“Reporters asking questions, digging into things, that’s to be expected,” Thompson said.
On the other hand, she had a peculiar role when it came to the Balance and the Standard: it was her job to put the kibosh on stories that crossed the line.
It happened once. Thompson killed a piece of satire that included details of illegal activities on the yard; she was promptly criticized for it.
Thompson’s objectivity — as either a former journalist or a DOC official — evaporated when it came to the Balance and the Warrior; her support for the newspapers’ efforts was personal and emotional.
And she blurred traditional lines. Like volunteers for Poetic Justice, and Stackable herself, who perform logistical editorial duties or arrange interviews or gather sources for reporters, Thompson had been given a photo credit in a recent issue.
Questions linger about what prison newspapers are permitted to say.
In a 2024 opinion piece for PJP, Kevin Sawyer, reflecting on 27 years as a prison journalist in San Quentin, described the risks of prison journalism and took note of the many ways California had attempted to silence prisoners’ free expression.
Sawyer cited a Supreme Court case, Turner v. Safley, which established that inmate speech could be censored only when there was a valid connection to security or rehabilitation.
“The public’s right to know does not exclude what prisoners have to say or write,” Sawyer said.
The staffs of the Balance and the Standard said that concerns over censorship troubled them right from the start.
Balance Editor Deborah “Jax” Frank said their stories needed to be carefully crafted and solutions-based.
“How we feel about something, we have to work hard to get the emotion out of it,” Frank said. “These are our days, our lives.”
Despite fears, the newspapers’ early issues called attention to the difficulty of obtaining materials to renovate living spaces and took oblique notice of dilapidated buildings by celebrating efforts to refurbish them.
Apprehension for the third issues ran higher.
They were pleasantly surprised. Thompson approved stories that called out the punishing, callous nature of prison; that offered unflinching criticism of Oklahoma’s 85% rule; that documented the persecution of rural communities with outsized criminal fines that amounted to a second round of punishment; and more.
Warrior Editor Geneva Phillips pointed to even loftier ambitions.
“Our goal is not to push the envelope,” Phillips said. “Our goal is to represent the people we are incarcerated with. Our goal is to give honest, thoughtful, conscientious voice to the issues that impact our lives.”
The Eye Opener
In the late 1930s, a newsletter called the Eye Opener was launched at Oklahoma State Penitentiary in McAlester.
The Eye Opener quickly morphed into a full-fledged newspaper.
In 1941, the paper provided coverage of the death of warden Jess Dunn, who was killed in an OSP prison break; an opinion piece memorializing Dunn ran alongside an account of the uprising.
A copy of the Eye Opener from 1959. The Eye Opener was published at the Oklahoma State Penitentiary in McAlester until 1973.
In 1964, the Eye Opener printed an earnest letter to the editor that called for improvements to the paper itself.
In 1972, editor Verdell Sexton penned a plaintive opinion piece about the futility of prison reform.
“Virtually every adult in this nation has read or heard over television and radio, of the failure of the United States prisons to render any sort of rehabilitative effect to the prisoners,” Sexton wrote. “Still, there is nothing being done to change the ‘system’ of corrections!!!”
The Eye Opener ceased publication a short time later, likely due to the infamous 1973 McAlester Prison Riot.
Apart from the Balance and the Standard — and excluding the stray newsletter — Thompson was unaware of efforts to launch a newspaper at any other Oklahoma prison.
“I would love to have a newspaper stand up at every facility, because what brings communities together more than a newspaper?” Thompson said. “To have volunteers stand up at a men’s prison would be great.”
The communities of their yards were front of mind as the staffs of the Balance and the Standard awaited notification of the Stillwater Award; so was the broader society to which some of them would eventually return.
“I think the newspaper has offered us a sense of community that did not exist before,” Standard editor Phillips said. “I think that it is very empowering to have a group of women investing their time and their effort and their hopes in a positive outlet. That goes beyond the yard, to the entire world.”
Balance reporter Michelle Walker expressed the same sentiment, more succinctly.
“We’re not a prison publication; we’re a publication,” Walker said.
The Society for Professional Journalists’ award ceremony will be held May 8.
Oklahoma Watch, at oklahomawatch.org, is a nonprofit, nonpartisan news organization that covers public-policy issues facing the state.
Note: The following A.I. based commentary is not part of the original article, reproduced above, but is offered in the hopes that it will promote greater media literacy and critical thinking, by making any potential bias more visible to the reader –Staff Editor.
Political Bias Rating: Centrist
The article is focused on a program in which incarcerated women find their voices through journalism, highlighting the rehabilitation potential of the project. It reports the development and impact of a prison-run newspaper initiative at Oklahoma’s women’s prisons, sharing details about the participants, the challenges they faced, and the program’s broader societal benefits. The content presents factual reporting on the logistics of the program, the personal experiences of the women involved, and the significance of the project in promoting journalistic skills. There is no clear ideological stance or overt bias; it emphasizes rehabilitation and empowerment without engaging in political rhetoric or expressing a political viewpoint. While the topic itself is associated with progressive values (rehabilitation and empowerment of marginalized individuals), the article’s tone remains neutral, focusing primarily on the human interest aspect and the educational benefits of journalism within the prison system. This makes the article largely centrist in terms of political bias. The emphasis is on the positive outcomes of the project rather than presenting a critique of the prison system or broader political issues.
SUMMARY: Oklahoma nonprofits are severely impacted by federal funding cuts, particularly the potential dismantling of the AmeriCorps program, which provides essential volunteer support. Not Your Average Joe, a nonprofit aiding individuals with autism and literacy, heavily relies on AmeriCorps volunteers. Losing them would significantly reduce their capacity. Similarly, the Palomar Family Justice Center in Oklahoma City, which supports abuse victims, faces drastic grant losses crucial for victim services. These cuts threaten increased crime and community welfare, described as an “atomic bomb” effect. Organizations are urgently seeking alternative funding and encourage community volunteering and donations to bridge the gap.
Oklahoma nonprofits among the casualties of federal cuts
