More defamation :)

 

Isn't this so fun?? Let's break it down, shall?  So the story here is that I offered some mental health perspective to this person's sister who posted publicly on facebook. Just a news article. This person then jumped down my throat and asked me to fuck off and butt out. Ok, done.

Now her brother does post some pretty divisive stuff about COVID on his FB and I did comment back quite rudely. I will acknowledge that. However, this statement that this is "consistent, relentless, and round the clock" is utter absurdity. I comment here and there on her brother's posts, but that's it.

She is right that generally I do want to get the last word in!

"Different perceptions and perspectives are communicated to her and she continues to argue and fight. She has the inability to recognize..."  blah blah blah. I acknowledge when other ppl are offering insight and commentary ... that's clear from my comments on posts and my private convo with this individual. So this is totally false.

I do not constantly attack this person and made one small conversation with her. Not sure how that can be miscontrued as inserting myself into every single aspect.

The funny thing is that every single person you would ask about me would say that I am one of the most self-analytical people they know and am incredibly aware. So her opinion is absolutely whack and baseless. 

Beaten with the ratchet over and over and over? Like what are you TALKING about?!

Then she says I can gain her respect back if I become self-aware and realize the damage I caused. Umm, so you want me to kiss your ass while you are allowed to say whatever you want about me publicly with zero recanting or apologizing? Uh no.

This person is sooooooooo out of line. This person took the time to craft this huge facebook status in addition to the huge comment in my previous post, and yet said I have too much time on my hands and spend too much time on facebook.

It's sad but also kind of funny. Like what in the world is wrong with this person??

I seriously think they are enduring some kind of incredibly repressed trauma or even jealousy? Their attacks are so wild and revolting. I mean, who takes to their facebook status to publicly lash out at their own cousin in such a vitriolic call for attention?! Utterly wild!!!

Anyway, I just kinda feel like I need to get some of this off my chest because it does bother me that this person is so vehement, destructive, damaging, and a flat out B*TCH. I mean, there is no other word for it. It's deceptive, disgusting, rude, and, to use her own words: out of control. This is WAY over the top. Bringing a goddamn gun to a swordfight.  I honestly just feel so sorry for this person that they carry to much rage and anger and resentment inside of themselves that they are willing to do this.

If you're wondering if I have the same since I made this whole blog post about it, well it's a response to her lambasting ... also, I don't name her. At the end of her little post, she publicly uses my name.

Catharsis, my dears.

Now I'm off to craft another original tune dedicated to this person!! Mwahahahahha....

Dissecting a public slandering (technically libel, I guess...)

Further to my rant yesterday, my insane family member decided that since I had blocked and deleted her she would get on her husband's account to continue harassing me. I sent him a message and blocked and deleted him too. Apparently this nutcase has another FB account, LOL, so she gets on there and continues the tirade!!

Here's her post - let's have some fun commenting on it :)

yes, I told you to Fuck off H******. Are you so dense that you can't back off from any aspect of my family's affairs. 

I commented on ONE post that her sister made. I posted a tiny paragraph about how children often have different experiences in the same household, and then a news article.  My cousin then messaged me privately about this whole thing and at the end of our conversation she told me to "Fuck off". Ok, cool, done. I did. This response of hers is on her brother's post regarding COVID which I commented on, admittedly quite aggressively.

 

You are acting like a child. Nobody is blowing up your social media accounts because we have more tact and diplomacy. You blocked me because you don't have the ability to self-reflect and realize that you are totally out of control. You are hurting nobody but yourself and your family's reputation.

Acting like a child how? By commenting? Whose social media accounts are being blown up? You and I messaged privately, and I commented on your brother's post. What does it mean to be "totally out of control" exactly? Posting an opinion on social media is totally out of control?

 I would be so embarrassed if I were your parent watching on as you attacked multiple cousins and family members online in a public forum. 

Multiple cousins and family members? Who? Stop exaggerating.

Is it really worth it? 

No, your miserable ass is not worth it, definitely not!!

********** [my dad] was tagged because you seem to really be struggling mentally by attacking your family members relentlessly. (untrue...)

I only wish that I could speak to my father if I was carrying so much hate, angst, and judgement on other family members. --> Victimizing because her father is deceased.

Your attacks on D***** are unjustified and relentless. He has had so much tact and compassion yet you seem to want to be aggressive towards him. For what? Why? Your personal opinions? 

Fair argument. I was rude to D, for which I apologized publicly and privately.

I am aware that you have been attacking other family members on messenger also. (untrue)

Do you need help? Your family can help you with your mental distress. There are local distress centers in your area. If social media is causing you so much anxiety then you simply have the choice to recuse yourself - which you are incapable of doing. Seek help. 

This is called gaslighting and is a well-known tactic by narcissists to call the reality of a person into question and make them seem off-balance.

Or maybe your tagged family member can help you and offer you sound reasoning and advice. If you are going to act like a child, you will be treated as such. 

Please provide an explanation as to how I am acting like a child.

There is no room for you at this table H***** and you need to accept that. Nobody wants your aggression. Nobody here deserves your bullying tactics. You are not being objective. You are not persuading anyone that you are a victim. You need to take responsibility for your own actions and behaviours.

I took responsibility for what I said to D** and apologized. Can you read??

The apology you issued to Dan is not an apology. "I apologize for attacking you personally. To me that's how you come across." - this is not an apology for your actions, words, and behaviours. This is trying to justify your position yet again. Daniel has been so tactful and objective and you still feel the need to grind him down.

I agree that I had a caveat added to my apology that engendered insincerity. Therefore, I edited the apology (while keeping the original to provide accountability) and included that I appear insincere but do want to offer my sincere apology.

You blocked me. You blocked C***. You will no doubt block this account. Likely you will block J*****. Why? Because you open your big mouth, have to endear the consequences, and can't handle them so you make it so that you cannot see or hear that you are wrong. You started this all, and now you can't accept that you made bad choices and have upset much of the family and continue to speak behind their backs.

I blocked you cuz you told me to fuck off. I blocked your husband because you used him to get at me; also he's not my friend so no reason to have him on my list. I didn't block this other account of yours but I sure will delete you cuz there's no reason to keep you on my life. I haven't blocked my uncle yet, but I might if he's an asshole to me. So, what, are your "consequences" that you rake me over the coals and publicly deride me like this is an episode of Game of Throne? I mean, how much time did you spend on all this garbage exactly??

"Upset much of the family"? Like who? So far I'm seeing you and J ... not even D has said he's upset. If people have a problem, they can come to me about it.

I do not believe in speaking about people behind their backs, nor is it good practice or business to speak about them when they are not in the room. So out of transparency, I wrote on my wall about you last night, and I have named you personally, so that all of our family can see. It's an embarrassment to have had to write this. It's likely embarrassing for our family members to have to read this. And it's a tarnish on the S****** family name.

You didn't have to write any of it LMAO. You decided to do it so as to publicly shame me like I am some small child. The only thing you have succeeded in doing is making yourself look like a petty bully. You did not include any specifics. You just made a bunch of defamatory statements without any evidence. What is the point of your post exactly??

So many people are begging you to stop. 

Actually it's just you.

D***** has and you refuse to read between the lines. 

Actually he hasn't.

I have and you refused to read between the lines - so I point blank told you to Fuck off and butt out in a private message. You are not being respectful. You are crossing all sorts of lines. 

An element of truth to this. I could have been more respectful, I will own that.

And many of us commenting and reading along or even receiving private messages about your behaviour (highly doubtful) feel so sorry that you can't give it a rest (you are the one continuing this and clearly being unable to give it a rest...) and leave your family members alone. I've said it - Enough. (Good. Can you STFU now??) You're out of control.

So what do you call your incessant harassment and messaging? Is that not "out of control"?? 

Well that was loads of fun!! I can't respond to this person because they are blocked on facebook, thank god! They are clearly extremely miserable and get off on making others look bad. I feel utterly sorry for them.

Just some ranting

 The nice thing about having a little quiet corner of the internet that no one ever visits is that you can write stuff about the irritating people who cross your path in life!

I'm feeling very unsettled and frustrated today by the gaslighting and vitriolic attack by someone who used to be close to me. They felt a comment I left on facebook was rude and over-the-top. I commented back their own FB status about making things their problem when they aren't. This person was convinced that this was their problem, despite not being tagged in the post or any comments. It was excessive. 

So after their attack, I blocked them. I also apologized to the OP for my overtly intense comment, and deleted that comment. This person then came on their husband's account to post at me YET AGAIN about how I am out-of-control.

I privately messaged her husband that she needs a reality check on what "out of control" looks like, asked her to stop gaslighting me, then blocked him.

Previous to this, I had made a comment on a post by this person's sister. This person messaged me separately and we disagreed about several things in our conversation before they told me to "fuck off and butt out".

This person is a BULLY. They are having their own mental health crisis - it seems to be cropping up in their family due to unresolved and unprocessed childhood trauma. This person seems to suffer from various Cluster B personality traits including Borderline Personality Disorder ... if I had to fit them into a box.

I don't need this person in my life. I don't need their fakeness. I don't need their attacks. I don't need them attempting to control and police my life - online or offline.

I even wrote them a little song this afternoon with all my rantings and ravings. It was fun and cathartic.

As much as I enjoy debating and arguing, and as contrarian as I am, I do not like conflict deep down. I'm an Enneagram 2 - The Helper. I feel most useful when I'm in helping role, and it's in my nature to reach out to those in pain to see if I can assist them. I'm also a therapist and mental health professional so I have training to do this.

That being said, because I like to help, I admit that I can insert myself where it's not necessary. That being said, if you're going to make a lengthy post on facebook about stuff ... to me that's invitation for commentary. If you don't want comments - make that clear, maybe? Then again, I suppose I will take this person's advice from now and on and just "fuck off" unless someone specifically asks me for help.

So I'm a little unsettled about this recent activity. I spent a long time today and yesterday examining my shadows and having some inner dialogues with myself. I can see where I messed up. I don't know if the other person believes they were out of line in any way. Despite my own errors in the situation, I do not agree with their behavior or their public attacks that to me were unwarranted and over the top.

As such, this person is now out of my life! For better or for worse. It is what it is. I just hope it does not have further repercussions on the other people I hold close to me.

Untitled

Today I had one of the most profoundly disturbing experiences of my life.

I was heading down to my internship site after doing Music Therapy observations at the Kansas State School for the Blind, when I received a phone call. It was a young woman explaining that her father lived at the apartment building that I manage and she hadn't been able to reach him for a few days and could she get a key to get into this apartment? I told her that, legally, that wasn't something I could likely do, but I would be more than happy to check on her behalf and then give her a call.  She said she hadn't heard from him in a few weeks and that her uncle had gone to her father's shoeshine store and it turns out he hadn't showed up at work in about two weeks either.

So I stop in at the building on my way.  I knock loudly on the door, and then I knock on the neighbor's door to ask if they've seen this man lately.   They said they hadn't.  So I reluctantly unlock his door and push it open a crack, announcing who I am and that I'm just checking in.  A baseball bat that was propped against the back door falls to the ground.  I don't hear anything, so I open the door a little more and notice a sour smell.  I walk into the apartment inch by inch. The smell is worse. I'm in the kitchen and the bedroom is ahead and to the left.  I see a hand. I think "Oh no."  I say the man's name.  And then I see the rest of him. Lying on the floor next to his bed. Wearing boxers. Puffy. I stare in shock. And then I run out, downstairs, outside.

I call my boss in California. I'm in tears. I tell her a tenant has died and I've found him. I explain it to her.  She says I need to call the daughter. I really don't want to.  So she does. I wait and my boss tells me the daughter is on her way.  I'm so uncomfortable.  There's a dead man upstairs.  A man I knew. 

The daughter arrives and she's inconsolable.  She almost collapses on the sidewalk. I tell her she doesn't have to go upstairs. But she wants to.  Outside the back door, I once again tell her she doesn't have to do this; but she's insistent.  She goes in with her brother and they both break down. It's one of the most terrible moments of my life, witnessing a family seeing their dead father. The daughter is a mess.  I would be, too, of course.  She keeps saying she doesn't know what to do.

They call the police, who arrive along with the fire department and EMTs.  The family and I answer some questions.  The daughter is distraught. It's at once uncomfortable, distressing, and humbling. The professionals are very kind, but a little formal.  I can't imagine doing this on a daily basis like they do.

Detectives arrive and they ask a few more questions.  The family has the keys to the apartment and I tell them that they are free to come and collect his belongings when they are ready to do so and offer myself at their service if there is anything I can do.

I feel nauseous.  I feel ill-at-ease.  I'm just uncomfortable. I keep seeing this man's hand.  His legs. His body.  I never saw his face. The way he was laying, I couldn't see it.  Maybe that's for the best.  He had started decaying.  His toenails looked brittle and white. His body was puffy and swollen.  The smell was unpleasant, although I was surprised it wasn't worse.

The man was black, and every time I saw a black man, I thought of him. Lying there for days, undiscovered.

I can't really describe how I feel right now.  I'm uncomfortable. A little distressed.  Ill-at-ease is the best option. 

I hope I never have to experience this again in my life.

Hold close those who you love.

A little 2017 recap

How sad - I didn't write a single blog post in 2017! Not that I even think anyone out in the universe follows or read this thing any way.  Still, blogging has always been cathartic for me so perhaps it's time to get back into it if for no other reason than as a personal outlet.

2017 was a shitty year in many ways for me - personally.  I changed a lot as a person and I'm still struggling to "find" myself again.  Some of my values took major shifts, and the things that I thought mattered to me seemed to perhaps not matter so much anymore.

So to usher in 2018, I'm trying to focus on tuning in to my intuition, to being more flexible and adaptable, to accept change, to make it through transitions with a little more grace, to make better decisions, and to put myself "out there", wherever "there" happens to be!

I've signed up to take a Yoga Teacher Training Certification at Midtown Yoga Kansas City.  Part of the reason is that I'm inspired to link my love of yoga with my impending career in music therapy, because I believe both modalities are central to rehabilitating from trauma.  And the other reason is that I believe this will be very important to me as a person!  Taking every other weekend to focus on my self, my breathing, my body, my mind, my heart feels important right now.

One thing that 2017 did bring was a new beast, literally: my puppy, Dexter. I didn't grow up with dogs, but found myself wanting one this year.  And when a friend of mine couldn't keep his puppy, I offered to take him off his hands.  So, this little rambunctious ball of joy came into my life and has turned into a big, dopey, jumping, hound.  He's the most handsome man, cuddlebug, shit-disturbing, drool-monster!  He makes me so happy and I'm so glad he's mine.

The other major thing that happened in 2017 was that I started my Music Therapy internship at Cornerstones of Care - Ozanam & Gillis Home campuses.  It's almost over now, just two weeks left.  I've been working with kids and teens with behavioral and emotional disorders - mostly due to early trauma.  I have an amazing team, with my flexible and inspiring internship director and the other music therapy intern who is as supportive and friendly as I could have hoped for.  I have learned SO much and feel fairly well-equipped to begin my career as a music therapist.  As things wind down, I have to brace for another transition, another change.  I feel ready for it...although I'm sure when that last day comes, I will be an emotional mess.

Finally, I lost my grandma this year.  The only grandma I had left.  My mom's mom: Beth Elias.  She was a strong, smart, funny woman.  Her directory of songs and poems and stories was something to marvel at.  She was in poor health, though, and passed in her sleep one night. At least she went in the most peaceful way one could hope for.  Still, her absence feels strange.  And of course I'm so worried for my grandfather. They were married for 60 years, and now he is all alone.  It breaks my heart.

Death....not fun.  Which is why I'm wondering if I should do my final music therapy practicum at a hospice - to face one of my biggest fears.  I hear it is such a blessing to help people transition out of this life.  But the thought of it almost stops my heart with terror.

That's all for now.

Happy New Year everyone!

Ritual

So today, to mark the passage of 2016 into 2017, I attended a Sound Healing and Burning Bowl meditation event at the local Buddhist temple.  It was an interesting experience! I have never been to a Buddhist temple, nor have I participated in a Burning Bowl Fire Puja.  But it seems like a popular event, seeing as I had to wait in line for 15 minutes to get in.  There were at least 200 people in attendance.

Each attendee received a slip of paper upon which they were to write things they wished to leave behind this year.  We were encouraged to write "Anything not serving you."  Really, the paper wasn't big enough for me to down all the things I wanted to burn up from 2016 - but I managed to pare it down to the essentials, which I won't post here because it's all burnt up and GONE!

During the "ceremony", we were invited to chant the following phrase: Om Mani Padme Hun, which means "the jewel in the lotus".  Some guy was playing a large didgeridoo-type thing and a woman was playing rock/singing bowls.  And person was guided to walk to the front of the room and burn their slip of paper.

Since I chose to sit at the back of the room, I was waiting for quite some time to go up and burn my paper.  I was able to let the sounds wash over me and listen to this roomful of people create a peaceful vibration together.  I eventually briefly joined in the chanting, but didn't keep it up for long.  I was thinking about ritual.

Rituals are fascinating.  What is our need to have them in our lives?  They ground us.  They provide clues to our identity.  They link us to people and communities.  And for some, rituals connect them to a higher power.  I didn't feel any of that in the ritual I participated in today.  For me, it was a powerful thing to watch my failings burn away, but it was very personal and didn't have anything to do with anyone else in the room.

I was wondering if there were any rituals that I had.  Honestly, I can't think of any...morning coffee??  And to what does that connect me?  So maybe I should incorporate some rituals into my life.  I'd hate them to be empty, though - but I also don't want to create some phony ritual that I pretend means something when it doesn't.  How does one find a ritual that speaks to them and that gives purpose and meaning and cohesion in ones life?  I don't know, but I'd like to take a journey to find out.

p.s. - See ya later 2016, don't let the door hit ya in the ass on the way out.

Under the Banner of Heaven

I just finished reading the phenomenal book entitled Under the Banner of Heaven, by John Krakauer, about Mormon Fundamentalism centered around the 1984 murder of Brenda and Erica Lafferty at the hands of her brothers-in-law.

I have always been intrigued/baffled by Mormonism/Latter-Day Saints (LDS), since falling in love with one in 2003 at the tender age of 18.  He was my first boyfriend and my first love.  I was head-over-heels and wanted to spend the rest of my life with him.  Unfortunately, our respective religious views (I was still a practicing JW at the time), weren't compatible.  I faced huge pressure from my parents to avoid him at all costs - JWs are strongly encouraged to only date and marry other JWs.  And I knew he was preparing to go on a mission trip.  Still, I firmly believed we could make things work - and to that end we both agreed to study each other's religion.

I was sure that he would eventually "see the light" after studying with the JWs...but that never happened.  I'm assuming he felt the same about me, but I obviously never converted to Mormonism.  He left on his mission trip to the Philippines in December 2004, my heart broke, and that was that.  We kept in touch for a bit, but we both eventually moved on.  He's now married (to a Mormon) with a young daughter. 

Although the values systems of Mormonism and JWs are somewhat similar - emphasis on the family, reading Scriptures together, chastity, modesty, the command to preach the truth to the rest of the world, blah blah blah - the doctrine is quite different. QUITE DIFFERENT! 

I distinctly recall talking to my LDS boyfriend after finding out that Mormons believed that ancient Israelites had rowed across the Atlantic Ocean in leather boats to discover America, and that Jesus had visited believers on this new continent.  I was baffled - people believed this?! My boyfriend confirmed that, yes, he believes this.  And then the more I read, the wider my eyes grew: temple rituals, baptism of the dead, secret handshakes, men can eventually become gods, the necessity of having numerous children in order to provide vessels for spirits to come to earth, special underwear.  This stuff was super bizarre to me! 

Once it became clear that there was no way in hell I would convert to Mormonism, I left off researching it.  Over the years, references to Mormonism would make me bristle a bit - I was still nursing my broken heart - but mostly I would just shake my head at the inanity of it all.  I left my own religion a few years later, after taking a Judaism class at University and appreciating the banter and relationship that Jews had with God.  As of now, I would characterize my spirituality as non-existent and apathetic.

Recently, via a group WhatsApp chat with my 4 best friends, we started talking about Mormonism after we noticed that many pretentious lifestyle blogs and instagram accounts were run by Mormons.  (For a hilarious parody site, check out Seriously So Blessed.)  One friend mentioned her own in-depth study of Mormonism, and referenced a history of violence and racism in Mormonism that I had not heard before. She suggested I read Krakauer's book, and, the last time I saw her, she had brought me a copy to borrow.

This has been one of the most fascinating books I may have ever read!  And also eye-opening about, as my friend mentioned, the history of violence and racism from the beginnings of Mormonism through to at least the 1970s when the LDS church finally allowed black people to join the priesthood and participate more fully in the religion.

The book chronicles the history of Mormonism since its inception in 1829 when The Book of Mormon was published, through the colonization by Mormons of the Midwestern United States, the defiance towards government by church leaders, and then various sects that branched off mostly in relation to the church's eventual outlawing of polygamy/plural marriage.  All this is told within the context of the 1984 murders of Brenda Lafferty and her baby daughter, Erica.

Although the book contains helpful maps, it would have been beneficial to have had some kind of family tree chart.  It seems everyone is interconnected in some way through varying marriages and step-relations.  To be fair, though, figuring out the family tree becomes a daunting task when a father takes his own step-daughter as a new wife, effectively making the step-daughter a step-mother to her own mother...mind-boggling!

This kind of incest and pedophilia is rampant throughout fundamentalist Mormon communities, and is extremely disheartening.  Families there continue to practice plural marriages, with girls as young as 12 years old being married off to much older men.  These communities are run almost exclusively by Mormons, who control everything from government to banking to policing.  Escape is difficult.

I highly recommend this book!!

TRUMP

Eight years ago, I watched Obama win his first presidency. I was filled with hope – it seemed that the world and America was on the verge of change! They were ready to move forward. Of course, growing up in a household that valued multiculturalism and diversity, it never made sense to me in the first place why racism was still happening in the world.  A rather privileged upbringing, of course.  I remember wanting to blog about all the hope and optimism I felt.  And I never did.

Now, it seems America really wasn't ready for a black president. Or maybe America just wasn't ready for progress of the social variety. The only thing that's happened in the last eight years has been more division, more hatred, more racism, more sexism, more misogyny. Was it always like this? And I just never knew?   More than likely, as it’s only in the last decade that I have become more involved with social justice, and I'm realizing how privileged my life has been and continues to be.

Years and years and years of patriarchy, white rule, oppression/genocide/slavery of people of color, cannot easily be undone! We live with these ancestral issues buried within us.

And now look at where we are. America would rather have a racist than a woman. America would rather have a mansplainer than a woman. America would rather have a rapist than a woman. America would rather have a sexist person than a woman.

I am shocked. I am sad. I am outraged! This country is about to explode. I was so hoping that this toxicity would be over on November 8. Well, I have to point out my own privilege in that previous statement, because I just failed to properly acknowledge that our system is compete toxic and will never be “over” until we undergo an overhaul of the numerous unjust policies in place that continue to oppress the most marginalized members of our society.  But at least I knew this toxic election campaign would be over.  As if that’s supposed to be a consolation.

Instead, a new toxicity is about to be born and bred. Born and bred?  It’s BEEN born and it’s BEEN breeding…But what I mean is the way in which Trump has granted permission for people to be openly discriminatory and hateful.  In that way, I can't even imagine what age we are about to enter. I know that I'm scared for anyone who is of color, disabled, LGBTQIA, a woman, transgender, poor, an immigrant, a refugee.

I scroll through my facebook and I see post after post about how scared my friends are.  My friends who are disabled, LGBTQIA, women, trans, immigrants, refugees, people of color.  One of my young students told me yesterday “If Trump gets elected, my family might have to go back to Mexico.”  I think of my young black and brown students, growing up with a president who ridicules those who are different than he is, who wants to close the gates to this country, who wants to build walls, who refuses criticism and discourse and dialogue.

My husband is working in Florida right now, and his colleagues are jubilant over the Trump win.  However, another colleague told him that her daughter’s 10-year-old classmates were telling the girls they were going to grab their pussies.  We are now in the business of raising rapists.

I am so scared for the kinds of people Trump will bring out of the woodwork.  As my brother so eloquently put it: “It’s [Trump’s] followers who are the real problem.  Alt-rightists, misogynists, xenophobes, and any other number of disaffected grudge-toting deplorables who will not feel validated and legitimized by the outcome. Don’t know how that genie will get bottled up again.”

I’m uplifted by the protests being held around the country.  I hope we can continue to be angry, to support each other, and to work to fix this giant cluster-F.

CONTACT Training - Brattleboro, Vermont

I'm currently at the CONTACT Training program in Brattleboro, Vermont. CONTACT stands for Conflict Transformation Across Cultures. The program is held at the SIT Graduate Institute, a branch of World Learning. This is the first year that the program is offering a joint training by Musicians Without Borders, which is the main reason I've enrolled.

 The MWB portion of the session is not until next week.  This week I'm learning about non-violent conflict resolution through amazing teachers such as Tatsushi Arai, Bruce Dayton, Susie Belleci, and Mehlaqa Samdani. Future lecturers include playwright Court Dorsey, Hon. Patricia Whalen (former Judge, War Crimes Chamber of Bosnia Herzegovina), Vahidin Omanovic, and the trainers from MWB.

 Today was all about IDENTITY. This portion affected me quite deeply, as we examined the ways in which we see ourselves, and the ways in which society sees us. But more than that, I kept coming back to a question a colleague asked some months back, which was - "What is the big deal with identity? Why is everyone talking about identity?!"  This was really a question in response to the transgender bathroom issue, that people who are trans should be able to use the bathroom associated with the gender by which they identify.

 And so today I kept coming back to that question from her - why is everyone talking about identity?

Here's why:

Identity helps situate ourselves in the world. It gives us a reference point to not only walk through life, but also to survive, as we may need to find the groups where we feel safe and protected.

Identity gives us a way to be known - and we all want to be known. We all have stories that we want to share about who we are and why we are that person. A strong sense of identity allows us to know ourselves and where/how we belong on this planet.

 Identity is a source of conflict - when what we feel within is not the way we are perceived by others. Or what we feel within is not seen on the outside. Who we think we are may not be how or who others think we are. So then we have a personal identity, and a social identity. These two essences may not connect.

 When aspects of our identity are attacked, it influences our behavior. That aspect of our identity might shut down. Or it might consume us.

**

 My colleague who asked the earlier question is a white middle-aged woman. She has mentioned that she identifies strongly as a woman.

So, in terms of a bathroom, she would use the one assigned to women. It is where she feels comfortable. It is where she feels she belongs. It resonates with her because it aligns with her identity.
This is exactly the same way that trans people feel about using the bathroom corresponding to their gender. They want to use the space in which they feel safe. In which they feel comfortable. In which they feel as though they belong. The place that aligns with their identity.

Finding these aspects of identity that we share can go a long way towards understanding the points of view of another person who we consider to be very different from us.

NICA.1 - Leon

Congratulations, Nicaragua, you win for being the most disorganized immigration proceedings I've ever experienced. I can only compare it to the Qalandiya checkpoint between Ramallah and East Jerusalem in terms of disorganization, length of processing time, and sleepy border guards. Although at Qalandiya, the turnstiles meant there had to be some kind of line formed, some kind of order. The Managua airport in Nicaragua had no stanchions, no authorities trying to guide people to order (and no young, bored soldiers standing around with large guns) - just clusters of visitors and residents, all trying to get ahead of one another. It slightly, but only ever-so, diminished my excitement about landing, for the first time, in Central America. Once you were actually in front of an immigration official, things were easy. You presented your passport, your declaration form, and your $10 visa fee (which an American man in line behind me seemed to think was a ridiculous charge); they took a picture of you and sent you on your way.

One of the first things I noticed about Nicaragua was the smell: that miasma of acrid smoke; of something burning that probably wasn't intended to be disposed of in such a way. The smell immediately took me back to landing in Uganda in 2009. It was the same smell. And it was one that I would encounter continuously throughout the next 9 days in Nicaragua.

Another thing you notice immediately about Nicaragua: no one speaks English. Information booth at the airport? Barely. Immigration official? Nope. Security guard? Nope. Guy outside directing traffic? Nope. Other airport workers? Nope. Oh silly me, who hasn't traveled beyond Canada and the USA in the last four years, don't you remember that people speak different languages in different countries?! Of course I knew there would be a language barrier, but I thought that there would be some English spoken considering how many tourists are in Nica! Oh how wrong I was. Not that it was a bad thing. I was able to put to use the year and a half of Spanish I took in my Undergraduate degree, and which I was thankful for taking every single day of my trip. Being (mostly) fluent in French also helped.

So then, a word to the wise: apparently you can't just catch a taxi in front of the airport. Well you can and you can't. It has to be a certified taxi...maybe? I'm not 100% sure on this one, since some people were climbing into taxis left right and center; but when we asked to be taken to the UCA Bus Terminal, we were turned away. Finally, one taxi driver motioned to us to leave the airport grounds and he would pick us up on the street, which he did!

Now, I'm not sure if I was aware of this fact before I landed in Nica or not, but Nicaragua is the second-poorest country in the Western Hemisphere. And you see it. On the fifteen minute drive from the airport to the bus terminal, I was again reminded of my time in Uganda: dirt roads, slums, scruffy kids running around shirtless and barefoot, stray dogs and chickens everywhere, metal-fronted shops selling chips/cigarettes/snacks/sodas, tons of trash (not that this list of observable poverty is all there is to observe in either Uganda or Nicaragua, by any means).

My husband and I were slightly worried when our taxi driver picked up two other people en route to the bus terminal, but he dropped them off quickly. He pulled over to pick up two others, but after less than half a second of interaction with these men, he zoomed away. Apparently he knew immediately that they were drunk. A rather astute fellow!

Managua UCA bus terminal, like all the bus terminals in Nicaragua, has 14/15-passenger mini-vans for expreso trips to your destination - as in, not stopping every fifty feet to pick up/drop off a passenger - and large school buses, or chicken buses that cost less but cram as many people on as possible and constantly stop and start. We stood in line for an expreso bus to Leon, but considering it was Christmas Day and there were a solid thirty people ahead of us in line, we figured this would take a while. We befriended a young Nicaraguan woman beside us who, fortunately, spoke English. When a man made an announcement that he would drive to Leon if he got fifteen passengers to pay 80 Cordobas (up from the usual C60), she translated for us. Interestingly, almost no one (besides us, our young friend, and another tourist couple who had already been waiting over an hour for an expreso bus to show up) jumped at this opportunity. The regular price for the bus was 60 Cordobas, just over $2. An extra 20 Cordobas is ~ $.75, and yet Nicaraguans standing in line didn't even budge when the offer was made. For us, an extra $0.75 is nothing. To a regular Nicaraguan, perhaps it's an unaffordable luxury.

In any event, we made it to Leon where we checked into our room at El Nancite Guesthouse, a lovely hotel with two beautiful inner courtyards. Nearly every building we entered in Nicaragua - homes, hotels, restaurants, bars, etc. - had an inner courtyard filled with plants, trees, flowers, maybe a fountain and/or hammock. So gorgeous. The owner of El Nancite is John Corronna, a New Yorker from Brooklyn who is married to a Nicaraguan woman and who has lived in Nica for the last 16 years. He's a straight-shot kind of guy. Really laid-back and easy-going, quite helpful, very friendly, and as candid as they come.

Our time in Leon was spent eating at an amazing French bakery, Pan y paz, checking out the beaches Poneloyas and Las Penitas, Volcano Boarding with Quetzaltrekkers, and wandering around the town square trying to make sense of a bizarre tradition whereupon kids dressed up as a tall Spanish lady and a short Nicaraguan man dance to random beatings of a snare drum, played by other kids. We easily could have spent another day in Leon, especially to check out some of the museums and art galleries, but didn't think we had time.

The (extremely windy) day at the beach was somewhat tainted when my iPhone took an unexpected dip into the salty waters of the Pacific Ocean. Fortunately we had a yummy dinner (plus a bag of dry rice which would encase my phone for the next nine days) at Barca de Oro to make up for it. The bus ride home was an interesting affair. I ran to catch the bus and ask the driver to wait for my husband, who was inside at the restaurant paying. In the time it took the bus to turn around, my husband climbed safely aboard. But the bus was absolutely jam-packed; it was one of the last buses of the evening, and beachgoers were trying to get back into Leon. Seeing as my husband and I were practically hanging out the open door of the bus, the driver scooted his seat forward and indicated that we should clamber behind him and wedge ourselves between his seat and the first passenger seat of the bus. There, we had a stellar view of just how crammed the bus was: 3-4 people to a seat, 70 people in the aisle, crying babies. Just as we started down the road and I thought "We can't possibly fit anymore people in here", the driver stops to let on about 15 more passengers, mostly sopping wet kids who pushed their way into the interior of the bus. As I came to find out, personal space seems to be somewhat of an option in Nicaragua...

Volcano boarding was a really fun way to spend a day, and I highly recommend Quetzaltrekkers! We had a really nice guide from Sweden, Arvin, who is volunteering in Nicaragua. We took a truck ride to the base of Cerro Negro Volcano, and then did a 45-minute hike up a rocky, dusty path to the top. The views from the top were really amazing - Nicaragua is definitely a beautiful country! I had a completely different idea of what volcano boarding would entail: I imagined boarding down right next to red-hot lava. Apparently I don't know much about volcanoes or how they work. Instead, we rode wooden boards down a steep hill of dry volcanic stone and ash, resulting in lots of rocks in my bra, underwear, eyes, mouth, and hair. But it was fun! Then we hiked up and did it all again. This time, though, we took a little detour to check out some steaming sulphuric vents in the side of the volcano. Very cool.

Tip: if you go volcano boarding, absolutely bring two bandannas - one to cover your mouth and the other to cover your hair. As I only had one bandanna, I chose to cover my mouth, which meant my hair got full of rocks and dust. Despite washing it three times in succession, I was still picking rocks off my scalp several days later.

Embracing the Infidel: Stories of Muslim Migrants on the Journey West by Behzad Yaghmaian
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This book was a wonderful combination of heart-wrenching stories and straight-forward statistics. Yaghmaian does a great job of combining the lives of the people he meets, with concrete information about the migration of thousands upon thousands of human beings. You cannot believe how these people have taken the journey that they have, how they live the way they do, and how they find strength and hope to keep going.

On my own previous trips to Europe, I have seen many of the people described by Yaghmaian - Africans selling knock off purses, watches, bracelets, etc. Street cart vendors. And I'm ashamed to say that I never gave them, or their stories, much thought. But who knows where these people came from and what caused them to take on this transient and fragile lifestyle?

We are all born into a set of circumstances, some good and some bad - for me, this book helps remind me that I am no better a human just because of where I was born and the circumstances that led me to my life today. And if I can help someone out, I should.

**

"We will never be normal...Of course we are different from other people. We live a different life. Normal is the way the majority lives. We are not a part of that. We hope to be normal, have a family and live the life of a normal person, but we cannot. I am young, only twenty-two years old. I see other young people in the rest of the world. I know how they live, how they look at the world. But I cannot be like them. I am not normal. I have been on the road with no return. The return to normal is not possible. See, some migrants die in the sea. Others die crossing the mountains. There are the fortunate ones. They die with no pain. The rest live to see their slow death. Dying takes different forms. Some shoot heroin. Some go with a baba. They are all the same, those who beg in Patras and those who go with a baba in Athens. Look them in the eye. You will see the same pain of not achieving the goal, not reaching the destination. You change when you go with men for money. You become a different person. You die."

"I knew the difficulties of the journey...What I did not know was that the journey changes you. You can never be who you once were even if you return to the same conditions. The journey transforms you. The person you were when you picked up your bag for the road dies. You are a different person when you put your bag on the ground."

This quote^ really opened my eyes. Again, going back to the immigrant sellers I have encountered on my trips to Europe, I did not give a thought to what led them to that place and time. Who knows what they have seen and done in order to get where they are? How many days they had to trek through forests or deserts, or mountains, without proper shelter, clothing, or food? How could such a journey NOT change a person? If we could look out for just one minute from the eyes of such a person, what would we see?

View all my reviews

Classical Musician at a Rock Show

I had the unbelievably good fortune to attend two brilliant performances today (Sunday, March 11, 2012 - although this will likely be posted on a different day). The first performance was of violinist Ray Chen and pianist Julio Elizalde performing the following works:

Mozart: Sonata for Violin and Piano in B flat major, K 454; Brahms: Sonata for Violin and Piano no 3 in D minor, Op. 108; Ysaÿe: Sonatas (6) for Violin solo, Op. 27: no 2 in A minor "Obsession"; Saint-Saëns: Havanaise for Violin and Orchestra in E major, Op. 83; and Saint-Saëns: Introduction and Rondo capriccioso in A minor, Op. 28. Chen and Elizalde played one encore: John Williams' "Schinder's List".

Chen was vibrant onstage and moved freely and passionately. Technically he is astonishingly precise, but he also featured a mature musicality. The Brahms was the centerpiece for me; the second movement was played with an unbridled emotion that left my heartstrings tugged at every phrase. The concert could have consisted of only that movement and I would have been left satisfied. Fortunately, I was treated to the full Brahms Sonata as well as the other piece that captured me: Ysaÿe's Solo Sonata no.2 ("Obsession").

The Q&A with the artists after the show was slightly disappointing as the performers did not speak as articulately as they played. Then again, they had just performed an intense concert and were likely tired...

But the concert I attended this evening was one that will remain in my mind as one of my fondest musical experiences. In the fulfillment of a dream that was been over 10 years in the making, I finally saw my favourite band on the planet: RADIOHEAD.

I first started listening to Radiohead when I bought the album Big Shiny Tunes 2 in 1997, which was a compilation of popular hits from that year. The Radiohead song featured was "Paranoid Android". I fell in love with the rich texture of the music, the contrasting sections, the funky lyrics - I would listen to that song over and over again. Maybe a year later, when my parents finally got cable and I started watching MuchMusic, did I receive exposure to Radiohead's over songs. Through a Spotlight on Radiohead, I saw several of their music videos including "High and Dry", "Street Spirit" and "Just". A fan was born. I went out and bought The Bends and OK Computer immediately and listened to them non-stop.

When Radiohead came out with Kid A and then Amnesiac, my mind was blown. "Everything in Its Right Place" entranced me the moment I heard the opening notes. I remember listening to those CDs in my Discman and staring out a van window at a changing landscape as my family drove across Canada to visit relatives.

Update/Downdate

Well, it's certainly been a minute, hasn't it? What's happened since March 2012...let's see: I've played a lot of music - Masters recitals in April, 2012; May, 2013; February, 2014; chamber music concerts galore with groups at UMKC, Regina Summer Strings, Black House Collective, Classical Revolution KC, etc; I got engaged, October 2012; I gained family - welcoming my little nephew, Noah, in October 2012; I lost family - bidding adieu to my wonderful Aunt Anne in September 2014; I gained friends - too many to name!; I lost friends - accepting reality when my friend and talented colleague Matt Siegel fell from a university parking garage in October, 2014; I got married on May 10, 2013, and organized a celebratory bash with family and friends a year later; I've been to familiar places (Regina, Calgary, Ottawa, Tenaga, PEI) and new places (NYC, Chicago, Montreal, Valparaiso, Hartford, Portland); and now I'm trying to make life work as a freelance musician. There seems like a lot to say and, at the same time, nothing to say at all. Life is life, and life has kept on going despite me not making huge announcements to the world via this blog. Is my commentary on what's happening out there important? Do my travel experiences and stories matter? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe people who blog really just do it for themselves...and anyone who happens upon this little online journal-of-sorts gets a brief peek inside my life before moving back into their own world. Blah blah blah Ciao for now

The Struggle for Power over Women's Fertility

I told myself when I moved to the United States that I would not get involved in politics. Well, after living here for just over 6 months and with an election on the way, it's been nearly impossible to avoid the utter bullsh*t and GONG SHOW that is American politics!

The Republican race is a baffling trio of Newt Gingrich, Rick Santorum, and Mitt Romney (and Ron Paul...but it seems he's mostly out of the contest at this point). These three men are all self-described "Christians". Their behaviour remains very un-Christian, however, with Gingrich having married three times; Santorum, a Catholic, is a war-monger intent on keeping troops in Iraq and Afghanistan; Romney, despite being a Mormon, demonstrates how un-Jesus-like he is by being unconcerned for the poor.

But these men have been putting their "Christianity" in the limelight in order to win over the extreme right-wing Republicans and hardcore Christians of America. All the candidates oppose same-sex marriage (Santorum likens homosexuality to bestiality and pedophilia). Santorum is so anal (pun intended) that he goes so far to say that private sexual acts between married couples should mostly be for the purpose of pro-creation, and that the use of contraception leads to too many sexual liberties. Gingrich and Santorum oppose a woman's right to choose to terminate a pregnancy. (Super creepy aside: when Santorum's wife suffered a miscarriage, Santorum and his wife brought the dead child - Gabriel - home so their other children could "meet" it...W.T.F.?!)

What has really got my panties (white with black butterflies...someone please let Wayne Toews know...I digress...) in a twist are the efforts of the Republican party to block Obama's Affordable Care Act which basically provides birth control to women for free beginning in 2012. I do not understand why old, white, Christian men want so badly to have power over a woman's ability to control her own fertility!

Republicans want to make abortion illegal, cut funding to Planned Parenthood, make birth control illegal or highly regulated (in the case of Santorum). I was absolutely disgusted when I read a recent article where a Conservative radio host called a young university student a "slut" because she believed that birth control should be covered by health insurance at religious institutions:

www.thestar.com/news/world/article/1140095--radio-host-rush-limbaugh-labels-woman-a-slut-for-asking-birth-control-to-be-paid-for

Here's the thing: men want to have sex with women. That's a fact. Many men and women have sex outside of marriage. That's a fact. To avoid getting women pregnant, men may use a condom that they can purchase at a local drugstore. That's a fact. When a man uses a condom, he is responsibly taking control of his own fertility. Although men may purchase condoms for a small cost, free condoms can often be found at local health clinics, doctor's offices, etc. At times, however, a man and a woman (husband and wife, even) may want to have sex without a condom, but they also don't want to have a child. Or, perhaps a man and a woman may want to have sex but a condom is not available. Fortunately, a woman has an option of taking a hormone that will prevent her from becoming pregnant if she has unprotected sex. If men can take control of their own fertility, and do so for free, why are people wanting to deny this right to women?

Rick Santorum has five children. That means he has had sex at least five times without using any kind of contraception or birth control. I wonder if he has only ever had sex five times in his life. Does Rick Santorum view his wife as merely a vessel for carrying his children? Is Karen Santorum allowed to exercise control over her own fertility? (Perhaps not, as she recently had another child, at the age of 48....did they seriously plan that, or were they have unprotected sex *God forbid*?!)

I'm frustrated that I'm not expressing myself very articulately right now. My basic point is this: men and women have sex, and they don't always do it to create a child. If men can use condoms (and get them for free at times), why shouldn't women be able to obtain birth control for free, or for subsidized cost? And why are old, white men the ones who are making this decision for women?!

If by using birth control women are preventing life from starting and taking too many sexual liberties, then why should men be allowed to use condoms? Is that not also preventing life from starting? And what about having a vasectomy?!

I'm just so disgusted by this whole state of affairs! Of course this leads right into a discussion on religion, and religion + state which should be completely disallowed. Unfortunately, Rick Santorum is more than ready to drag religion back into the White House. It will be a sad day on this planet if this horse-blinder-wearing Bible-thumper ever gets into office...

http://campaignstops.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/03/01/leaps-of-faith/

STNA

Two years ago, I traveled to South Africa as an International Youth Ambassador with Toronto-based NGO: LetsStopAIDS. At the time, LetsStopAIDS was on a special project, entitled Spread Trees Not AIDS. The mission was to the raise awareness about the environment and HIV/AIDS.

Along with a fellow ambassador, I was placed in the small community of oSizweni, which is just outside of Newcastle in North Western KwaZulu-Natal. We were working at a community centre called KwaHilda. Over the course of several weeks, we held workshops on HIV/AIDS, the environment, leadership, sexual health, and hosted a community clean-up where we filled an entire dumpster with at-capacity garbage bags.

Two of our big initiatives when we left were: to start a community garden to feed not only the children who attended the community centre of KwaHilda, but members of a support group for People Living With HIV/AIDS; and to start a Youth Executive that would be responsible for giving talks in the community on HIV/AIDS awareness.

In order to start the garden, we had an enormous plot of land tilled.



This land used to be a garbage dump and the soil was pretty much ruined. Fortunately, KwaHilda community centre produced a lot of vegetable waste that was able to be composted and used as fertilizer. Additionally, we had donations of manure from several local farmers.

Although we worked hard, we were only able to dig one or two beds for future gardens. We had to explain to KwaHilda how they should proceed if they wanted to continue with this project.

To be honest, I really didn't know how the garden would end up working out. In South Africa, projects that are sustainable but don't churn out results immediately are not necessarily looked after. People in these rural communities are starving and have no money. They want results right away! So to leave our garden in such an early stage, not even having planted anything, seemed to be a bit of a gamble.

Well, three months after I left, the garden looked like this:



I couldn't believe how much work these guys had done!! I was almost brought to tears when I saw that picture.

One year later, summer of 2010, the garden looked like this:






This year, summer of 2011, there are two International Youth Ambassadors back at KwaHilda for 5 weeks! Here is a recent video of the garden I helped to start.

I'm so happy with the results of this garden...The KwaHilda Community Centre in South Africa has done an absolutely knock-out job of keeping up these gardens. I'm so proud of them. I can't believe this little project on a plot of land on the other side of the world that B.H-C and I started two years ago is still bearing fruit.

Puts a giant smile on my face :)

Asking for it?

I was astonished a few weeks ago to read a news article about a rape case in Winnipeg where the judge did not assign jail time to the offender because the female victim "sent signals that "sex was in the air" through her suggestive attire and flirtatious conduct on the night of the attack."

For Justice Robert Dewar to call the offender a "clumsy Don Juan" makes a farce of the claims of the victim. It also victimizes the offender by playing off his actions as an innocent seduction gone accidentally wrong. A rape is never an accident. A rape happens when a sexual act occurs without both parties consenting to the action. In this case, a man's penis forcibly entered a woman's vagina. I'm not a rocket scientist, but that kind of thing doesn't just happen by chance.

Additionally, how can you justify a rape due to what a woman was wearing or the style of her makeup? That's like saying "Well, this guy looked like he was going to rob the bank so I shot him." Then you'd just be a "clumsy Superman".

What about the mixed signals that the woman was supposedly giving off? At first rejecting the offender's advances, and then giving in to his kisses? Using her consent to kissing is in no way consent to having sex. While kissing may be a precursor to having sex, it does not guarantee that the act will happen!

Speaking as a woman, I cannot imagine the rage and hurt I would feel towards the rapist and the judicial system if I was this woman. Just imagine if you had been wronged in one of the worst ways possible. And then when you spoke publicly about this wrong, hoping that it would be righted, a public offical (a supposedly educated individual) in a great power of authority, turns to you and said "Sorry, you deserved it."

No one deserves to be taken advantage of or be forced into acts that they are not agreeable to. The fact that a judge in our courts would have this kind of reasoning displays a measure of callous heartlessness that is frightening.

http://www.winnipegfreepress.com/local/rape-victim-inviting-so-no-jail--rape-victim-inviting-so-no-jail-116801578.html

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Speaking of being forced into acts, I have been following the story in Cleveland, Texas about the 11 year-old girl who was gang-raped by possible over twenty men ranging in age from 17-28.

This story makes my blood run cold.

Basically, an 11 year-old girl was picked up by a 19 year-old man and his two friends, taken to a trailer, threatened with violence if she didn't remove her clothes, and then sexually assaulted by numerous men. These men also took videos on their cell phones and began circulated them.

At this point, 17 men have been charged. SEVENTEEN!! I certainly can't speak from experience, but can you even imagine the pain you would be in if seventeen adult men had penetrated you!?

What is wrong with people?!? I have to ask this. At what point in someone's brain would you ever possibly think that it would be okay for you, as an adult male, to have sex with a child? And while you were in the act, would it never occur to you that this was something completely disgusting? Not to mention when you looked up to see your friends taking pictures and videos on their cell phone, would it ever cross your mind that this was a bad idea, even if only from a legal point of view (not to mention morally)? Or if you were the one holding the cell phone, while you were taping this obscene act, did you ever wonder how you would feel if you saw someone doing this to your little sister? Or when your friend invited you over to have sex with a young girl, would you stop and think - man, that sounds abhorrent and illegal?

Does the town of Cleveland possess such an astounding number of sex predators that this mind-boggling figure of between 17 and 27 men would find the idea of having sex with a child so enticing that they would be willing to risk their careers (two of the men charged are members of Cleveland's state-ranked basketball team) for this seemingly pleasurable thrill? How would you even look at yourself in the mirror knowing that you stole a child's innocence in such a disgusting and abusive manner?

I had to pick my jaw up from the floor after I read the defence lawyer's statement that "This is not a case of a child who was enslaved or taken advantage of." I understand that this man's unfortunate job is to find some way to possibly defend these horrific monsters, but how can your argument in any way entail that this child was not taken advantage of?!

There have been testimonies that the girl was wearing make-up and looked older than her age. Referring to my above post, I am astounded that this would/could be used as a way to lessen the punishment for this act. I repeat, there have been SEVENTEEN men charged! This was not an instance of one man picking up a girl he thought was older and taking advantage of her. This was an instance of several men picking up a girl and inviting all of their friends to screw her.

Some Cleveland residents have wondered where this child's parents were. This is a valid question, but there is no way that a parent can be blamed for the kind of abuse this child suffered at the hands of so many abusers. The blame lies solely on the incredibly disturbed men who chose to take a young girl, force her to take off her clothes, have sex with her, and document it.

I hope that the punishment for these men is incredibly severe. This poor girl will face a life-time of trauma.

If there is a God, I hope His retribution on these men is swift and harsh.

http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/metropolitan/7459716.html

http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/metropolitan/7466774.html

International Women's Day

Happy International Women's Day!!

This is actually the 100-year anniversary of International Women's Day. It was started by the UN in 1911 when women in the Western world were petitioning for their basic political and employment rights. Since then it has become not only a world-wide celebration of half the population of the earth, but also a moment to raise awareness about harassment, lack of education, mal-treatment, and inequality facing women around the world.

I never considered myself a die-hard feminist before, but I have to admit that I don't take lightly any jokes (*hilarious* as they may be...) about the inequality of women (i.e. women belong in the kitchen). As a human, my place in this world should not be dictated by my gender!

Unfortunately, in many parts of the earth, women are treated incredibly differently due to the very fact that they are women! We are still not granted the same pay as men in many countries. We are not given access to education in many countries. We are treated as property, abused as sex workers, unable to attain positions in government, looked down upon, etc.

Why do so many people fail to realize that by neglecting a significant portion of the world's population, we are at once stopping the evolution of a healthy society, but also propagating so many of the world's problems, including hunger, disease, and lack of education.

If women were not treated as objects and given the right to say "No" to unsafe sex in Africa, the spread of HIV would slow down. If women in developing were given the same access to tools and technology as their male counterparts, they could augment the yields on their farms, producing more food for their families and villages.

Think of the most amazing woman you know...times that by several billion...that's the number of amazing women we *could* have on this planet if our world was not so obsessed with having male children that they will throw a female baby in the dumpster rather than give her a life; if our world considered females to have the same rights to an education that we give males; if our world wasn't so caught up with having women be child-care providers and homemakers.

Women are wonderful humans who do wonderful things and none of us would be here if it wasn't for a woman. So make sure to fully appreciate and *show* your appreciation for all the intelligent, talented, beautiful, and under-appreciated women in your life today and every day!

Whatcha gonna do about it?!

I'm so tired of the phrase "must be held accountable". What an over-used, cliched, and often-times empty threat!

Recall the Gaza flotilla of late-May 2010 when the Israeli army surged aboard a fleet of boats headed for Gaza to distribute badly-needed medical, educational, and infrastructural supplies. The raid on the boats left nine people dead at the hands of the IDF, including a 19 year-old Turkish civilian. I found it almost laughable that Israeli President Benjamin Netanyahu called this a "clear case of self-defense of the IDF soldiers". Really? The IDF entered International Waters, and boarded a boat carrying non-blockaded goods, and then attacked the unarmed civilians onboard. How can that possibly, in the mind of any logical-thinking human being, be deemed a case of self-defense!? But I digress...

Before I began this post, I wondered what exactly the international community had done to "hold Israel accountable" for the murder of people who were only trying to enhance the incredibly poor quality of life for Gazans? (Notwithstanding that this flotilla should have followed standard procedures for shipping equipment into Gaza, since when is it acceptable for armed people to board a civilian ship in international waters, kill unarmed civilians, and seize the vessels? Last time I checked, that was called "piracy". Not to mention the fact that the blockade on Gaza is unlawful in and of itself - meant to stop weapons and ammunition from entering Gaza, the blockade also banned chocolate, diapers and numerous medical supplies.)

Fortunately, wikipedia has an article on exactly that:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gaza_flotilla_raid#Reactions

I discovered that many countries condemned, protested, and expressed deep concern and regret over the actions of Israel. Only four countries downgraded their diplomatic relations with Israel and/or withdrew ambassadors: Ecuador, Nicaragua, South Africa, and Turkey. Good for them!

I was pleased to know that the Human Rights Council adopted a vote of 32-3 that condemned Israel's actions and would begin a fact-finding mission to investigate violations of international law in this instance. Hopefully this case will yield positive results that will provide justice to all the people affected by the horrible way the IDF acted.

In this instance, maybe Israel will be "held accountable" after all...?...despite clearly being held unaccountable for its occupation of Palestine including the building of the apartheid wall, construction of illegal settlements, wanton destruction of Bedouin villages, violence against Palestinian civilians, diverting water from Palestinian villages and using that water to irrigate their illegal settlements within the West Bank, and the list goes on...

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After the successful protests in Egypt led to the ousting of long-time dictator Hosni Mubarak, other Arab countries, including Libya, are following suit to overthrow their repressive and oppressive regimes! While Arab leaders are stepping down (Egypt and Tunisia) or trying to quell revolutionaries with promises that they will not run for re-"election" (Yemen), Libyan dictator Muammar Gadhafi has threatened his country with a bloody massacre, promising to crush all the "cockroaches" who oppose him!

This is an incredibly frightening thing for the leader of a country to say!! The other frightening thing is that the international community has no idea how to respond, other than to condemn Gadhafi's actions (obviously) and say that he would, of course, be "held accountable". Would that be the same accountability that Mubarak is enduring, as he sits with his feet up in Saudi? Mind you, will the US really charge Mubarak for his years of oppression when it was they who funded it? ($1.3 billion in military aid each year)

Hopefully Gadhafi will be "held accountable" for the lives he has commanded his military to take.

I suppose the really ridiculous thing is that all of these countries are talking about "holding people accountable" as though they bear no responsibility themselves. The international community should be trying to *prevent* atrocities and crimes against humanity before they happen!

Speaking positively of my own country, Canada: "Under the previous Liberal government, Ottawa had pushed for the “responsibility to protect” doctrine, which would oblige the international community to take action if a sovereign country is obviously failing to protect its citizens from mass atrocities. The concept has won support from the UN in recent years, but Libya could be a crucial test of the principle."

( http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/world/africa-mideast/world-leaders-unsure-of-how-to-respond-to-gadhafi/article1918231/ )

Let's see if the Harper government has the balls to act (likely not...).

Hopefully the world leaders will start acting before it's too late and they have to issue yet another official declaration of their condolences at lost lives and a condemnation of the Gadhafi regime. Save the ink, save your voices, save some lives and take action!

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Maybe it's easy for a 25 year-old Canadian girl to sit back and criticize the world scene for its seemingly lackadaisical attitude towards genocide...but too often the greed for oil allows politicians to sit on their laurels lest they disrupt a relationship with a country that lets them drive their Hummers and other tree-killing SUVs.

Where are our priorities?! Where are the consciences of these people?!

Together but Apart...

Akin to the philosophical question: "If a tree falls in the forest and no is around, does it still make a noise?", I pose this query: "If two people agree to be a 'couple' but they live 1000 miles apart, are they still a couple?"

My boyfriend lives in the mid-Western United States and I live in basically the middle of Canada. Since we don't get the chance to talk much in-person, we spend a lot of our time communicating via Google Chat, Google Video, and Skype. Fortunately these resources are free, but that doesn't mean that both of us haven't spent a considerable amount of money and time traveling to visit the other.

We have actually been really lucky that we have had the time and money to see each other fairly frequently. We even spent 5 weeks together in Europe in September. After that we were able to see each other every 3 weeks. We can't keep that up forever, as we've realized when we examine our dismal bank accounts. Therefore we're trying to go a solid two months without visits.

Two months feels like an eternity. I've been trying to fill up my calendar as much as possible so that I'm busy enough that time will start to fly by. So far I've noticed that I'm exhausted and still incredibly aware of the hours and days slowly ticking along.

But back to my original question: If two people agree to be a couple but live miles apart, are they still a couple? It seems like an oxymoron. When you think of yourself as being in a relationship, you assume that you will spend a considerable amount of time with the one who dominates your thoughts 90% of the time. So when that person lives in another country, you are relegated to your thoughts alone and the daily (hopefully) phone call/video chat. Not really an effective or substantial way of demonstrating your "couple-ness".

Still, there's not much more you can do when you can't just stop by their place on their way home from work. So you have to find other ways of cementing your bond: letters, postcards, voice messages, little ways to let the other know you're thinking about them.

And to be fair, when we ARE together we are most definitely a couple. That doesn't do much to quell the disappointment every time we have to say good-bye, though. Long-distance is hard and it sucks. I feel for everyone who doesn't live in the same city as their beloved.

So you do what you can with what you've got. As for me, it's off to another video chat and after that I'll be back to X-ing days off on my calendar and counting away at those slowly-moving hours.

Valentine's Day?

It's been so long since my last post and I honestly don't know if anyone reads this anymore...so I can feel completely free to go off on a wonderful tangent :)

So it's Valentine's Day...hurray...or not?

This is the first Valentine's Day in my entire existence that I have been "with" someone - that someone being my boyfriend of the last 7.5 months. We are in a "long-distance" relationship (a.k.a. a very shitty position to be in), so, while we talk every single day, it's still hard to maintain the kind of close relationship you would have if you saw someone in person every day.

My boyfriend is not a romantic guy. He will admit this. That's ok. I love him anyway. He also thinks Valentine's Day is a complete sham. That's ok, too. I love him anyway. He told me not to expect anything for Valentine's Day, so I guess I should have been prepared. But...but...but...I cannot help but be envious of everyone's facebook status that reads "Best Valentine's Day ever!! Roses and a romantic dinner!" or "What an amazing Valentine's Day - breakfast in bed and couples massages!"

So what if Valentine's Day is a huge commercialized holiday designed to make people spend money on chocolate and flowers?? It makes people feel special and cared about. No, it doesn't mean your honey loves you more on Valentine's Day than on any other day, but it's an opportunity to demonstrate your affections and what's so wrong with that!?

Of course I didn't receive anything for our 6-month anniversary either...My boyfriend will be the first to admit he's terrible at buying gifts. I don't think it's hard to buy girls presents: earrings, necklaces, scarves, perfume, candles, body wash, tea, lotion, gift certificates even. [To be fair, he did take me to Iron and Wine at Radio City Music Hall in New York City, which was a freaking awesome show.]

Anyway, I will survive the obvious dis-acknowledgement of Valentine's Day. My point is that, despite it being a money-making scheme, receiving flowers/chocolate/a love letter is always a treat and quite honestly I'm in dire need of a pick-me-up these days so the green monster is burning behind my eyes and into my fingers (hence the post).

Sorry for putting you on the spot, boyfriend...you just gotta step it up a few notches, ok?? I still love you!!