'You can't always get what you want'

Joseph Fons holding a Pride Flag, runs in front of the U.S. Supreme Court building after the court ruled that a federal law banning workplace discrimination also covers sexual orientation, in Washington, June 15, 2020.

This was originally published as the June 16 edition of CNN's Meanwhile in America, the daily email about US politics for global readers. Click here to read past editions and subscribe.

(CNN)"You can't always get what you want."

Conservatives are learning the truth of President Donald Trump's favorite campaign anthem after the Supreme Court handed down the biggest victory for LGBTQ rights in five years.
Right-wing groups spent millions of dollars to put conservative Neil Gorsuch on America's top bench, but on Monday, Gorsuch delivered what his conservative supporters see as a betrayal: joining liberal judges and George W. Bush-appointed Chief Justice John Roberts in a landmark decision that prohibits employment discrimination against LGBTQ workers.
    It was especially galling to conservatives that Gorsuch cited the signature legal theory of the man he replaced -- late Justice Antonin Scalia, a hero on the right -- to justify his decision. Gorsuch believes in textualism, the idea that the Supreme Court should hew to what a law says, rather than what its original authors meant when they passed it.
      Lawmakers may not have been thinking of homosexual or transgender people when they penned the 1964 Civil Rights Act -- which prohibits discrimination on five grounds including "sex" -- but "only the written word is the law, and all persons are entitled to its benefit," he wrote in the majority opinion.
        His decision sparked uproar on the right. One prominent conservative judicial activist accused Gorsuch of a "brute force attack on our constitutional system." Though he will likely rejoin the conservative majority on other key social issues like abortion, his supporters will from now on fear that he puts principle before ideology.
        And that's not what conservatives signed up for.

          'I left at 7:00 a.m. before everyone got here'

          As some European countries finally eased the border controls designed to protect citizens from one fatal respiratory disease, French citizens flocked into neighboring Belgium to indulge another, loading their cars with cheap cigarettes. "I took a tub of cigarettes for my husband who smokes a lot, and a pack of cigarettes for the family. I came from Aisne, I drove 100 kilometers. I left at 7:00 a.m. before everyone got here," Nadege Caplain told Reuters in the Belgian town of Comines-Warneton.

          Inflight silence

          As Europe lowers its borders again, what's it like to travel in the wake of the coronavirus? CNN's Fred Pleitgen took notes on a recent flight from Frankfurt, Germany, to Porto, Portugal:
          The atmosphere on board was more somber than usual. Face masks meant people were naturally quieter -- the fear of unwittingly spreading droplets by speaking to neighbors perhaps driving the silence.
          "It's strange, it's very quiet, you don't have the hustle and bustle of the airport," said one passenger, Nayr Ibrahim.
          But there was a prominent exception to the mask rule. While the flight's pilots cover their faces on the ground, they don't in air, explained captain Andreas Kauser. It's important to be able to see his co-pilot's face during unexpected situations, he said.
          "The face, the expressions are very important," he told CNN. "if you communicate with your colleague and you have some strange situation it's good to see, is he in fear?"

          'Everyone else who talks about solutions is hiding behind Zoom'

          After Jose Rivera was released from prison, he hoped to build a new life in the Rust Belt city of Allentown, Pennsylvania, even volunteering with with a local community organization. Then along came the coronavirus.
            Inara Verzemnieks writes: "The weeks assisting with the street-level Covid relief efforts at Promise Neighborhoods — and then the sudden outpouring of public calls to deal with the myriad effects of racism and inequality, in part through the kind of recovery work he'd already been engaged in — had gotten Rivera thinking, he said, and had him drawing unexpected parallels between the chances he had taken in the past versus the chances he was willing to take now.
            "'I can see our community coming together, and that's what it's about — community members helping each other. It's not about black or white or brown. It's about being there for everyone,' he said. 'It's clear we can't fix things federally; we can't do it at the state level. We can only fix it locally. The question is do you really want to put in the work, and from what I've seen most of the people putting in the work, on the ground, are those who came from the Island of Misfit Toys. Everyone else who talks about solutions is hiding behind Zoom.'"