By Tim Scott I was criticized in this newspaper last week for saying that "woke supremacy" is as bad as white supremacy. My comments, of course, were not comparing the long history of racial hate to the very short history of wokeism. That would be ludicrous. I am painfully aware that four centuries of racism, bigotry and killings does not compare to the nascent woke movement. As a country, we continue to pay a heavy price for our original sin. My comments were a sound-bite-length reaction to yet another media figure accusing me of being a token for Republicans. Unfortunately, this isn't the first time I've heard that type of slur. I spoke out because I am gravely concerned for our future if we ignore either type of supremacy -- both of which are rooted in racism or discrimination. Criticism has included the suggestion that I and other Republicans are "living proof that neither racial nor gender diversity is a guarantor of progressive, inclusive and broad-minded thinking. Diversity, much in vogue, has its limits." In other words, my ideology does not match that which they prescribe based on my complexion. That is woke supremacy. It is the "tolerant" left's intolerance for dissent. It is a progressive conception of diversity that does not include diversity of thought. It is discrimination falsely marketed as inclusion. This isn't the first time the woke folk have come after me. I've been called a member of the "coon squad" for sharing my story and conservative vision for America at the 2020 Republican convention. A former leader of the NAACP called me a ventriloquist puppet. I've been called an Uncle Tom and a house n-----, among thousands of other insults. I am proud to be both a Black man and a Republican. Because of those aspects of my identity, many critics have ignored things I have actually done. In the past few years alone, my Republican colleagues and I secured permanent funding for historically Black colleges and universities for the first time in history. We've passed bipartisan legislation to help those battling sickle cell disease. We've fought for school choice because poor, and often minority, parents are consistently the ones without choice. And I helped author the Republican tax reform that lowered taxes for single moms, doubled the child tax credit and brought Black unemployment to historic lows. That list barely scratches the surface. Critics discount these accomplishments for the Black community because it conflicts with the caricature they've created of what it means to be Black and to be a Republican. But the victims of woke supremacy aren't just Republicans. After a recent vote against her fellow Democrats' attempt to pass a job-killing minimum-wage hike during the pandemic, my friend and colleague Sen. Kyrsten Sinema (D-Ariz.) received so many death threats that she had to increase security for herself and her partner. I've received similar threats. A man -- a "woke" Black man -- is to be sentenced this month for threatening to gut me "like a fish" and blow me away with his rifle. Woke culture is speeding our country toward ideological and literal segregation. Already, Columbia University has decided to host segregated graduation celebrations based on race or socioeconomic status. We are living in a society that has allowed "autonomous zones" that effectively prohibit law enforcement from protecting people from crime, and campus "safe spaces" to protect students from others' opinions. Carving out public spaces for people of only one race or mind-set? Since when is separate but equal back in vogue? Two wrongs don't make a right. When you give license for one person or group of people to discriminate, you give license for everyone to discriminate. Dividing society along racial lines is everything leaders in the civil rights era fought against, yet leaders of the woke movement are attempting to codify discrimination in law, including by Democrats setting aside funding exclusively for non-White farmers in their recent stimulus package. Blood wasn't shed on the Edmund Pettus Bridge or the streets of Birmingham so that we could reinvent the mistakes of our past. Six years ago, Rep. John Lewis (D-Ga.), who was not just a civil rights icon but also my friend, asked me to co-chair the march to Selma on the 50th anniversary of Bloody Sunday. When I think of my vision for America, I think about standing shoulder to shoulder on that bridge with John and Presidents Barack Obama and George W. Bush, walking forward together. So, we collectively have a choice: We can continue down the path of toxic woke mandates and virtue signaling that themselves create discrimination, segregation and hate, or we can choose to create equality of opportunity and access to the American Dream for everyone. Because I believe in the goodness of America, I remain hopeful that we will choose the Opportunity Society.

By Tim Scott Over the last year, the coronavirus pandemic has forced families of all backgrounds to make impossible choices. People's lives and livelihoods have been upended; we've changed the way we engage in our communities; and schools across the country have been shuttered, presenting unexpected challenges for working families. While the impact we're feeling now is immediate, the unintended consequences of keeping our young people home for a year will be felt far into their futures and the future of our country. According to a study released last summer by the Annie E. Casey Foundation, 41 percent of children in my home state of South Carolina are being raised in single-parent households. School closures forced parents--many already working one or more jobs--to take on the additional full-time job as at-home teachers. And in the case of single parents, some were forced to quit their jobs to stay home with their children. While kids of all ages have been asked to stay out of the classroom in favor of safer "virtual learning," families in rural and low-income neighborhoods know that this only works for those with reliable home broadband access. There is no practical form of virtual learning for one in ten South Carolina households without reliable internet access, more than one-third of rural Americans without access to home broadband, or one-quarter of children living in Opportunity Zones without access to a computer with Internet.

By Sen. Marco Rubio, Sen. Joni Ernst, Sen. Tim Scott, & Sen. David Perdue Since President Lyndon Johnson declared a war on poverty in 1964, the federal government has spent $23 trillion attempting to alleviate poverty. Today, we spend almost $1 trillion annually on over 80 programs to help those in need. Despite this significant investment, very little progress has been made in reducing poverty. In 2017, 12.3 % of Americans lived in poverty, just slightly below the 1966 rate of 14.7%.In short, it's clear the status quo isn't working. There is no one-size-fits-all solution to combating poverty in our country. Every community's struggles are different. And we've found, after talking with hardworking individuals across our home states, that the solutions need to come from within our local communities, not from a bureaucrat sitting in Washington, D.C. It's folks on the ground in our states who can best identify the challenges that low-income families and individuals are facing and then work to create pathways to lift families out of poverty. When we travel around our states we hear from folks who are struggling to make ends meet. And oftentimes, they feel like their progress is hampered by current federal programs. The reality is, despite over 80 programs and billions of taxpayer dollars spent annually, the federal government is failing to address the barriers to self-sufficiency trapping those living in poverty. Maybe worst of all, these programs punish self-sufficiency by penalizing folks when they gain employment or get a raise. Take, for example, a single mom working at an assisted living center in Lenox, Iowa. She began working at the facility as a certified nursing assistant and quickly excelled. She was offered a promotion. But because the higher income level would put her over the threshold for certain government assistance, she found out taking the promotion would actually cost her $200 a month. Note that she still took the promotion because she wanted to do better for her child, but for many, such a decision could be much more costly and too risky. In South Carolina, various agencies administer programs designed to alleviate poverty and transition folks who are struggling into the workforce, where they can better support themselves and their families. Unfortunately, because of bureaucratic requirements and outdated rules drafted in Washington, agencies' hands are often tied when it comes to streamlining services, coordinating case management, and leveraging the tools needed to empower South Carolinians to achieve upward mobility. While federal programs might be well-intentioned, they are not well-designed to actually help folks escape poverty. That's why we need common-sense legislation -- such as our Economic Mobility, Prosperity, and Opportunity with Waivers that Enable Reforms for States (EMPOWERS) Act -- that gives states the ability to develop solutions to best utilize federal resources in order to empower families and individuals to find long-term success. Our bill would allow states, such as our home states of Iowa, Florida, Georgia, and South Carolina, to submit a proposal, or request for a waiver, for a cost-neutral pilot program designed to reduce poverty and promote employment, financial literacy, family stability, and self-sufficiency for participants. In addition, our sensible bill would create the Interagency Board for Empowering Low-Income Families to oversee the waiver process. The Board would be responsible for reviewing proposals and ensuring that projects do not have benefit cliffs -- such as the one the young Iowa worker faced -- which can result in a net loss in a household's resources when they increase their wages or hours worked. This legislation would allow state and local organizations to tailor anti-poverty programs to the particular needs of these Americans, ensuring that they can realize their full potential. One of the foundations of our country is that, regardless of one's background, every person who works hard should have the opportunity to succeed. The EMPOWERS Act would help us live up to this cherished ideal by enabling states to develop and test new ideas to help folks reach their full potential and, ultimately, to change the status quo. Marco Rubio is Florida's senior U.S. senator. Joni Ernst, Tim Scott, and David Perdue are the junior U.S. senators from Iowa, South Carolina, and Georgia, respectively. All four are Republicans.