Duncan Laurence From The Netherlands Wins Eurovision 2019

Duncan Laurence of the Netherlands, the winner of Eurovision 2019, captured during the competition on Saturday in Tel Aviv, Israel.
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Singer Duncan Laurence from the Netherlands has emerged victorious at the 2019 Eurovision Song Contest. The finals were held Saturday night in Tel Aviv, Israel.
The 25-year-old Laurence won the international competition with a song called “Arcade,” which he co-wrote. The song is a sweet, emotional ballad that stands in contrast to Israeli singer Netta’s wacky “Toy,” which won in 2018.
Laurence, whose real name is Duncan de Moor, participated in the Dutch version of “The Voice” in 2014. He’s also been writing for other performers, including the K-pop band TVXQ.
Eurovision Song Contest
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In all, 41 countries started out in this year’s competition. The 26 finalists’ songs included a number of power ballads alongside Duncan’s, as well as perky, anodyne pop from artists like the Czech Republic’s Lake Malawi and Denmark’s Leonora; and aspiring club bangers from the artist Tamta, the singer representing Cyprus, and Belarus’ Zena, among many others.
But because this is Eurovision, where camp appeal often outweighs other factors, there was also Serhat — a dentist turned-television impresario-turned singer, who channels Leonard Cohen at the disco and represented tiny San Marino — and Iceland’s Hatari, which describes itself as an “anti-capitalist performance art group inspired by BDSM and anti-authoritarian dystopic aesthetics.”
Eurovision Song Contest
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Eurovision Song Contest
YouTube
Hatari reportedly “tested the patience” of the European Broadcasting Union, which mounts Eurovision, in the week leading up to the finals by repeatedly speaking out against the Israeli government.
More widely, this year’s event has been partly overshadowed by politics and the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. On Tuesday, hackers interrupted the Israeli live webcast of the first semi-final to warn, falsely, that the city of Tel Aviv was under attack. Israel’s national broadcaster, Kan, blamed Hamas for the hacking. Palestinian activists unsuccessfully urged performers to boycott Eurovision 2019.
Organizers said the Eurovision finals were being watched by 200 million people across the globe. However, the show was not broadcast in the United States this year after the Logo TV network, which carried the 2016 to 2018 editions, chose not to pick up this year’s contest.
Along with this year’s competitors, other performers at Eurovision 2019 included previous winners Netta from Israel, who won in 2018, and 2014’s winner, Conchita Wurst from Austria — as well Madonna, who performed “Like a Prayer,” as well as her new, reggae-flavored song “Future” with Migos’ Quavo.
From The Gridiron To Multigrid Algorithms In ‘Mind And Matter’
Here’s a puzzle: Do the qualities that allow a man to block 300lb bodies every day have anything to do with the qualities that allow the same person to solve three-body problems late into the night? Stumped? John Urschel can solve that puzzle for you.
Urschel is a former offensive lineman for the Baltimore Ravens who holds a bachelor’s and a master’s degree in mathematics from Penn State, and is currently pursuing a doctorate at MIT. And now he has written a memoir, Mind and Matter, about how his love of football and his love of math fit together. “When I was very little, I loved puzzles,” he says. “I loved solving problems. And that’s math, and I was fascinated with that sort of thing. And in high school, I started playing football and I fell in love with it. And then when I got to college and I started taking college math courses, then I really fell in love with math again, and that’s when I really discovered what mathematics is, and that I would be a mathematician.”
Interview Highlights
On why he decided to play pro football despite the risks
First of all, this wasn’t really a plan of mine. I have to say, when I was a kid, I loved watching college football, you know, football in the Big 10. [University of Michigan offensive tackle] Jake Long was my hero, and I wanted to be a Big 10 offensive lineman. And here I am, I’m a senior at Penn State, I am a Big 10 offensive lineman, and I’m living my dream. And I thought, okay, pro football seems available to me, people are talking about it, they have me on projection draft lists, and I said, you know what? Math can wait a little bit, and I’m going to go play football at the highest level, because I can come back to math later, but I can’t come back to try professional football.
On the possibility of brain injury
It was something that I had thought about at some point, and I recognized that there are those risks, and I was aware of them, but I was already aware of them, and I had already made my decision.
On getting a concussion in practice and being briefly unable to do complex math
When I had the concussion, as crazy as it seems, I was really frustrated, more than anything, that’s the right adjective, in that I love football, I love math, and I couldn’t do either of those things at that moment. And it really bothered me. But once I got better, and I was back to doing football and doing math, I thought, okay, if this happens again, I really need to think and reevaluate, but I like where I am right now, and I want to keep playing football and keep doing math, and I’m going to just keep doing both of those things and, I’m forget about this … and I did.
On what factored into his decision to retire
Things about mathematics, you know, looking at my career going forward, sort of thinking about — at that time, I was going to become a father, and so this is something I started thinking about, spending time with my daughter, being able to walk my daughter down the aisle. Being able to, when I’m 60 and 70, being able to run around, have my knees be okay, my shoulders okay, my back okay. Of course, you think about your head as well, but it’s a very holistic thing. The NFL can really do a number on your body, and a lot of people are focusing on people’s heads, but it’s sort of all over. And I’m blessed to have played three years in the NFL, and by NFL player standards, retired completely healthy. Not by normal people standards, but by NFL standards, I am as close to completely healthy as you can get.
On being an African American in math
I recognize that because I’m a mathematician at MIT and I play professional football, I’m in the spotlight. And I have a responsibility to use this platform to show people the beauty of mathematics. To show people playing in the NFL, this isn’t your way out. You can do something mathematics. You can do something in STEM, even if you don’t necessarily look like what the majority of people in that field look like.
And I have to say, okay, if you look at the field of mathematics, if you look at elite American mathematicians, there’s almost no African Americans. There aren’t many of us in PhD programs, there’s not many of us as undergrads, and what you’re sort of left with is the sad realization that there are brilliant young minds being born into this country that are somehow being lost — either because of the household they’re born into, or their socioeconomic situations, or sort of the social culture in their community. And this isn’t just a disservice to them, this is a disservice to us as a country.
This story was edited for radio by Elizabeth Baker and adapted for the Web by Petra Mayer.
Where’s Masculinity Headed? Men’s Groups And Therapists Are Talking
Leonardo Santamaria for NPR
Sean Jin is 31 and says he’d not washed a dish until he was in his sophomore year of college.
“Literally my mom and my grandma would … tell me to stop doing dishes because I’m a man and I shouldn’t be doing dishes.” It was a long time, he says, before he realized their advice and that sensibility were “not OK.”
Now, as part of the Masculinity Action Project, a group of men in Philadelphia who regularly meet to discuss and promote what they see as a healthier masculinity, Jin has been thinking a lot about what men are “supposed to” do and not do.
He joined the peer-led group, he says, because men face real issues like higher rates of suicide than women and much higher rates of incarceration.
“It’s important to have an understanding of these problems as rooted in an economic crisis and a cultural crisis in which there can be a progressive solution,” Jin says.
In supporting each other emotionally, Jin says, men need alternative solutions to those offered by the misogynist incel — “involuntary celibate” — community or other men’s rights activists who believe men are oppressed.
“Incels or the right wing provide a solution that’s really based on more control of women and more violence toward minorities,” Jin says.
Instead, he says, he and his friends seek the sort of answers “in which liberation for minorities and more freedom for women is actually empowering for men.”
Once a month, the Philadelphia men’s group meets to learn about the history of the feminist movement and share experiences — how they learned what “being a man” means and how some of those ideas can harm other people and even themselves. They talk about how best to support each other.
Once a month, a men’s group in Philadelphia meets to exchange ideas and share their experiences. With the support of the group, Jeremy Gillam (third from right), who coaches an after-school hockey league, teaches his team nonviolent responses to aggression on the ice.
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Alan Yu for NPR
This spring, part of one of the group’s meetings involved standing in a public park and giving a one-minute speech about any topic they chose. One man spoke of being mocked and spit upon for liking ballet as a 9-year-old boy; another spoke of his feelings about getting a divorce; a third man shared with the others what it was like to tell his father “I love you” for the first time at the age of 38.
The idea of such mentoring and support groups isn’t new, though today’s movement is trying to broaden its base. Paul Kivel, an activist and co-founder of a similar group that was active from the 1970s to the 1990s in Oakland, Calif., says men’s groups in those days were mostly white and middle-class.
Today, the global nonprofit ManKind Project says it has close to 10,000 members in 21 nations, is ethnically and socioeconomically diverse and aims to draw men of all ages.
“We strive to be increasingly inclusive and affirming of cultural differences, especially with respect to color, class, sexual orientation, faith, age, ability, ethnicity, and nationality,” the group’s website says.
Toby Fraser, a co-leader of the Philadelphia group that Jin attends, says its members range in age from 20 to 40; it’s a mix of heterosexual, queer and gay men.
Simply having a broad group of people who identify as masculine — whatever their age, race or sexual orientation — can serve as a helpful sounding board, Fraser says.
“Rather than just saying, ‘Hey, we’re a group of dudes bonding over how great it is to be dudes,’ ” Fraser says, “it’s like, ‘Hey, we’re a group of people who have been taught similar things that don’t work for us and we see not working or we hear not working for the people around us. How can we support each other to make it different?’ “
Participants are also expected to take those ideas outside the group and make a difference in their communities.
For example, Jeremy Gillam coaches ice hockey and life skills at an after-school hockey program for children in Philadelphia. He says he and his fellow coaches teach the kids in their program that even though the National Hockey League still allows fighting, they should not respond to violence with violence. He says he tells them, “The referee always sees the last violent act, and that’s what’s going to be penalized.”
That advice surprises some boys, Gillam says.
“One of the first things that we heard,” he says, “is, ‘Dad told me to stick up for myself. Dad’s not going to be happy with me if I just let this happen, so I’m going to push back.’ “
Vashti Bledsoe is the program director at Lutheran Settlement House, the Philadelphia nonprofit that organizes the monthly men’s group. She says men in the group have already started talking about how the #MeToo movement pertains to them — and that’s huge.
“These conversations are happening [in the community], whether they’re happening in a healthy or unhealthy way … but people don’t know how to frame it and name it,” Bledsoe says. “What these guys have done is to be very intentional about teaching people how to name [the way ideas about masculinity affect their own actions] and say, ‘It’s OK. It doesn’t make you less of a man to recognize that.’ “
Meanwhile, the American Psychological Association published guidelines this year suggesting that therapists consider masculine social norms when working with male clients. Some traditional ideas of masculinity, the group says, “can have negative consequences for the health of boys and men.”
The guidelines quickly became controversial. New York magazine writer Andrew Sullivan wrote that they “pathologize half of humanity,” and National Review writer David French wrote that the American Psychological Association “declares war on ‘traditional masculinity.’ “
Christopher Liang, an associate professor of counseling psychology at Lehigh University and a co-author of the APA guidelines, says they actually grew out of decades of research and clinical experience.
For example, he says, many of the male clients he treats were taught to suppress their feelings, growing up — to engage in violence or to drink, rather than talk. And when they do open up, he says, their range of emotions can be limited.
“Instead of saying, ‘I’m really upset’, they may say, ‘I’m feeling really angry,’ because anger is one of those emotions that men have been allowed to express,” Liang says.
He says he and his colleagues were surprised by the controversy around the guidelines, which were intended for use by psychologists. The APA advisory group is now working on a shorter version for the general public that they hope could be useful to teachers and parents.
Criticism of the APA guidelines focused on the potentially harmful aspects of masculinity, but the APA points to other masculine norms — such as valuing courage and leadership — as positive.
Aylin Kaya, a doctoral candidate in counseling psychology at the University of Maryland, recently published research that gets at that wider range of masculine norms and stereotypes in a study of male college students.
Some norms, such as the need to be dominant in a relationship or the inability to express emotion, were associated with lower “psychological well-being,” she found. That’s a measure of whether students accepted themselves, had positive relationships with other people and felt “a sense of agency” in their lives, Kaya explains. But the traditional norm of “a drive to win and to succeed” contributed to higher well-being.
Kaya adds that even those findings should be teased apart. A drive to win or succeed could be good for society and for male or female identity if it emphasizes agency and mastery, but bad if people associate their self-worth with beating other people.
Kaya says one potential application of her research would be for psychologists — and men, in general — to separate helpful ideas of masculinity from harmful ones.
“As clinicians,” she says, “our job is to make the invisible visible … asking clients, ‘Where do you get these ideas of how you’re supposed to act? Where did you learn that?’ To help them kind of unpack — ‘I wasn’t born with this; it wasn’t my natural way of being. I was socialized into this; I learned it. And maybe I can start to unlearn it.’ “
For example, Kaya says, some male clients come to her looking for insight because they’ve been struggling with romantic relationships. It turns out, she says, the issue beneath the struggle is that they feel they cannot show emotion without being ridiculed or demeaned, which makes it hard for them to be intimate with their partners.
Given the findings from her study on perceptions of masculinity, Kaya says, she now might ask them to first think about why they feel like they can’t show emotion — whether that’s useful for them — and then work on ways to help them emotionally connect with people.
For One U.S. Bike-Maker, Tariffs Are A Mixed Bag

Zakary Pashak started Detroit Bikes when he moved to Detroit in 2011, at a time when the city was reeling.
Courtesy of Melany Hallgren
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Courtesy of Melany Hallgren
Zakary Pashak is a rare breed. His company, Detroit Bikes, is one of the very few American bicycle makers. Most bikes come from China.
At times, Pashak endured ridicule at trade shows. “I’d get kind of surly bike mechanics coming up and telling me that my products stunk. There’s definitely a fair bit of attitude in my industry,” he says.
But last September, the industry’s tune abruptly changed. The first round of U.S. tariffs, or import taxes, upped the cost of Chinese-made bikes by 10%, and companies saw Detroit Bikes as a potential partner.
“All of a sudden I felt like the belle of the ball or something,” Pashak says.
Now a new round of tariffs set at 25% is hitting imports from China. Like many other American companies, Detroit Bikes is poring over the 194-page list of imported Chinese goods subject to the levies. Companies like Detroit Bikes rely on those goods, and now they face choices that will ultimately determine the prices consumers will pay.
Pashak started the company when he moved to Detroit in 2011, at a time when the city was reeling.
“What drew me to Detroit was the history, the music, the manufacturing,” he says. “But it was also the state that the city was in at the time.”
The financial crisis slammed automakers, laid off thousands of workers, many of whom abandoned their homes. Pashak envisioned an urban revival. Using those idle factories and workers, he wanted to build an American-made bicycle, which is how Detroit Bikes was born.
This month, the Trump administration upped the taxes it charges on Chinese imports by an additional 15%. Now, several companies seeking to avoid those added costs are considering hiring Detroit Bikes to manufacture bikes for their brands.
“If these tariffs are still in place next year at this time, I would anticipate that would probably be quite good for my business,” he says.
But the tariffs aren’t all good for Detroit Bikes. In fact, Pashak says the effects are so convoluted, he’s not sure yet whether they will ultimately help or hurt.
For one thing, his company relies on imported parts — rims, spokes, tires, cranks — most of which come from China. Tariffs on those also increased 25% since last fall, driving up Detroit Bikes’ expenses. To counteract that, Pashak is painstakingly evaluating each part, to see whether cheaper alternatives are available elsewhere.
He’s looking at parts made in Taiwan, which aren’t subject to tariffs. Or Cambodia, which he says is “the new hot country … that everyone’s trying to rush into.”
Businesses like Detroit Bikes react to tariffs in many ways, and one of the most significant is in finding alternate sources of goods. If Pashak succeeds in finding cheaper substitute parts, he keeps costs down on his bikes, which range from about $400 to $1,250. That then blunts the overall price increase for his customers.
Economists call this “substitution,” and say it affects how much consumers pay for tariffs.
“The impacts of these wars depend heavily on the substitution effect,” says Amit Khandelwal, a professor of international business at Columbia University.
Some substitutes are relatively easy to find. When China slapped retaliatory tariffs on American soybeans and corn, for example, buyers quickly turned to suppliers in South America.
But finding replacements for things like bike chains or software chips is considerably harder; factories can’t just be ginned up on demand. “Generally, the more specialized products often take longer to substitute,” Khandelwal says.
And timing is a key factor. It’s unclear whether the tariffs will remain for a week, a month, or years. Businesses, from farmers to retailers, are reluctant to make big changes when they can’t plan for the long haul.
That limits options for companies like Brooklyn Bicycle Co., which is based in its namesake city. It sources all its parts from 40 Asian countries, which are then assembled in China, before being shipped to the U.S. Ryan Zagata, the company’s president, says it would take about a year to rethink his supply chain and find options outside of China. And “it would be incredibly costly,” he says.
Detroit Bikes’ Pashak says he’s already mapped out some ingenious — if complicated — workarounds, if the tariffs stay put.
“I can bring in Chinese parts to Canada at no tariff code, bring in a Cambodian frame to Canada. Or ship my American frames up to Canada, put the parts on them, and then import them into the country,” he says. Doing so would relieve his tariff burden, but would take months. In the meantime, he says, tariffs might go away next week.
So the easiest solution for many companies, in the short run, is to raise prices. Many of Detroit Bikes’ rivals that rely on imported Chinese bikes, say they’ll have no choice. But Pashak says he’s not sure if his company will follow suit.
“It might be better for me strategically just to let all my competitors raise their prices because they have to,” he says. In the meantime, he’ll continue exploring options to try to make the tariffs work to his advantage.