Ten Things I've Learned in a Year's Time
10. Never before has my independence and involvement been so important. I live my own life, and I'm defined by what I do, not by who I spend my time with.
9. But even the most independent sometimes need a little help every now and then--and that's okay.
8. I can only accept credit and blame for what I do, not for what others do.
7. Direct action is the best solution. Ignoring a problem will not make it go away, and some people just won't get the message through anything other than direct and straightforward words. I've been an active activist for four years now, but it's only now that I've realized the importance of this.
6. Patience might be a value I should take some time to acquire. While direct action is important, sometimes results will take a while. But they are worth it. I know I need more time to fully recover, but I have come a long way.
5. Words only become true when I completely believe them.
4. I don't have all the answers, and I can't take responsibility for everything.
3. I can find ways to alleviate my own problems by helping others.
2. It is completely possible to learn to trust and love all over again.
1. I am not to blame.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month
The thing is, I don't think we need a MONTH to be aware about sexual assault. We need to be aware the whole year!
I saw this on a feminist website called "The F-Word" and figured it was important, so important that I put it here for you all to see.
I saw this on a feminist website called "The F-Word" and figured it was important, so important that I put it here for you all to see.
ONLY RAPISTS CAN PREVENT RAPEIf I knew who wrote this, I'd be best friends with them. A grl can have many best friends. This sums up exactly what I wanted to say. It is never okay. You cannot blame it on the survivor, as no one asks to be victimized. You cannot blame it on society, as most men do not rape and have no desire to do so. You would not blame the survivors of a terrorist act for what happened to them, nor would you say they were just in the wrong place or the wrong time, or that they just provoked it. Hell no! Then why would you blame the survivor of sexual assault or harassment? It's never okay. It's not man-bashing for me to say this; it's just the honest plain old defiant truth.A lot has been said about how to prevent rape. Women should learn self-defense. Women should lock themselves in their houses after dark. Women shouldn’t have long hair and women shouldn’t wear short skirts. Women should always walk with someone else at night. Women shouldn't try to be too "feminine," as that can be construed as an invitation. Women shouldn’t leave drinks unattended. Hell, they shouldn’t dare to get drunk at all. Instead of that bullshit, how about:
If a woman is drunk, don’t rape her.
If a woman is walking alone at night, don’t rape her.
If a woman is drugged and unconscious, don’t rape her.
If a woman is wearing a short skirt, don’t rape her.
If a woman is jogging in a park at 5 am, don’t rape her.
If a woman looks like your ex-girlfriend you’re still hung up on her, don’t rape her.
If a woman is asleep in her bed, don’t rape her.
If a woman is asleep in your bed, don’t rape her.
If a woman is doing her laundry, don’t rape her.
If a woman is in a coma, don’t rape her.
If a woman changes her mind in the middle of or about sex, don’t rape her.
If a woman has repeatedly refused sex, don’t rape her.
If a woman is not yet a woman, but a child, don’t rape her.
If your girlfriend or wife is not in the mood, don’t rape her.
If your step-daughter is watching TV, don’t rape her.
If you break into a house and find a woman there, don’t rape her.
If your friend thinks it’s okay to rape someone, tell him it’s not, and that he’s not your friend.
If your “friend” tells you he raped someone, report him to the police.
If your frat-brother or another guy at the party tells you there’s an unconscious woman upstairs and it’s your turn, don’t rape her, call the police and tell the guy he’s a rapist.
Tell your sons, god-sons, nephews, grandsons, sons of friends it’s not okay to rape someone.
Don’t tell your women friends how to be safe and avoid rape.
Don’t imply that she could have avoided it if she’d only done/not done x.
Don’t imply that it’s in any way her fault.
Don’t let silence imply agreement when someone tells you he “got some” with the drunk girl.
Don’t perpetuate a culture that tells you that you have no control over or responsibility for your actions. You can, too, help yourself.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
In observance of the Day of Silence
I am observing the day of silence for the first time. All I have to say is this:
WOW
I haven't talked since the time I got up. It goes from 9 to 5, and I have about an hour left. I have not talked at all, and when people have talked to me, I show them my response cards that explain the day and what it's all about. Most of them have been nice about it. There's a lot of participation. The standard dress code for the day of silence is to dress completely in black except for a rainbow ribbon. So I am wearing all black, even down to my makeup and jewelry (only no black lipstick, that stuff dries up my lips fast). Whenever I see another individual observing the day, I open up my jacket, show them my ribbon, and we exchange a smile or nod. That doesn't sound like much, but it really is profound to see all of the people I am allied with.
It feels like a fast of sorts. I have never starvation-dieted or fasted much for a religious occaision, so I don't have much experience with that. But I think fasting from food would be easier. I love to talk and my mouth moves faster than my mind sometimes. Instead of talking, I was able to reflect and think about the issues that I am protesting. I was able to think deeply about the issues that the day of silence stands for. The reflecting made me realize this. I will never completely know what it is like to be part of the LGBT community, since I am none of the four mentioned. But I think that it's important to learn all I can about it (most importantly by talking to the people one-on-one) and not be judgmental. I think that being part of a "dominant" culture, I have a responsibility to help others who may not have their voices heard as easily as I do. It's not being condescending, it's using what I've got to help. There's a lot that is taken for granted. I can't just use that to my advantage--I have to use that for everyone's advantage. The day of silence is one such way.
WOW
I haven't talked since the time I got up. It goes from 9 to 5, and I have about an hour left. I have not talked at all, and when people have talked to me, I show them my response cards that explain the day and what it's all about. Most of them have been nice about it. There's a lot of participation. The standard dress code for the day of silence is to dress completely in black except for a rainbow ribbon. So I am wearing all black, even down to my makeup and jewelry (only no black lipstick, that stuff dries up my lips fast). Whenever I see another individual observing the day, I open up my jacket, show them my ribbon, and we exchange a smile or nod. That doesn't sound like much, but it really is profound to see all of the people I am allied with.
It feels like a fast of sorts. I have never starvation-dieted or fasted much for a religious occaision, so I don't have much experience with that. But I think fasting from food would be easier. I love to talk and my mouth moves faster than my mind sometimes. Instead of talking, I was able to reflect and think about the issues that I am protesting. I was able to think deeply about the issues that the day of silence stands for. The reflecting made me realize this. I will never completely know what it is like to be part of the LGBT community, since I am none of the four mentioned. But I think that it's important to learn all I can about it (most importantly by talking to the people one-on-one) and not be judgmental. I think that being part of a "dominant" culture, I have a responsibility to help others who may not have their voices heard as easily as I do. It's not being condescending, it's using what I've got to help. There's a lot that is taken for granted. I can't just use that to my advantage--I have to use that for everyone's advantage. The day of silence is one such way.
Monday, April 16, 2007
I love politics!
I am an election judge for the city council election.
Now that I am a judge, you must refer to me as "Your Honor."
He he he...;)
I love being involved in my community.
Now that I am a judge, you must refer to me as "Your Honor."
He he he...;)
I love being involved in my community.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
I have to admit, it's getting better, a little better all the time
That title is from one of my favorite Beatles songs, and I think it best sums up my life now. It has been almost a year since the traumatic event occurred, and although I still have far to go before I am completely healed and whole, I think I'm doing a hell of a lot better than I was before.
The most important thing is that I've completely lost my sense of shame regarding it. Before, I was scared that people would hear about the event and judge me, even though I know I had nothing to do with it and I had no way of seeing it coming. You know, the whole blame-the-victim/survivor issue. I didn't want people to judge me. My sense of shame was impacting the way I lived my life. I feared that I was physically contaminated, and I wore clothes that covered every inch of my body to hide the slime and scars that only I could see. The exfoliant pump was my best friend. There was really no slime and scarring, but that's what I saw whenever I looked in the mirror, someone who was covered in someone else's contamination. It was awful. Nothing I could do would ever clean the slime or make it go away. I feared being a danger to others. But worst of all, I blamed myself. I thought that I should have seen it coming, and I created a fortress around my heart and mind. I didn't expresss emotion. Showing emotion is a sign of weakness, and I am not weak in any sense of the word. No one knew exactly what was bothering me because I wouldn't tell them. I was disgusting to myself--contaminated and low and ugly and dirty.
I don't think that anymore. I am out of fear. I am through with feeling ashamed of something that I couldn't control. I have reclaimed my life--and it doesn't include a sense of shame. I don't have any room in my life for that. I know I am not dirty or contaminated. While I do need some more time before I'm completely healed, I think I see a light at the end of the tunnel, and the tunnel is beginning to look a little more manageable. My life doesn't include shame. It is too short to include being ashamed. I can only take responsibility for what I have done or will do. I can't control what happened to me in the past or its aftershocks, but I can control my responses and the healing process. The process isn't complete yet, but it's beginning to look more manageable.
The thing is, I don't think I'm a survivor. Survivor implies that I just lived through it and was able to rebuild my life. While those are admirable qualities, I think the correct term for me is a fighter. You are probably wondering, "But you're a pacifist--how can you be calling yourself a fighter?" Good question. I am a pacifist, that's not going to change. A fighter implies that I have not only survived but have emerged stronger. I am even more vocal AND active in helping others who have been through events like this. I am now even more active in my feministic and crisis-related services, such as my working with the therapeutic art and the crisis hotline. I want to help others, and I have become even stronger and bolder. I have become more comfortable in telling my story to others because most people won't be judgmental and because it's important for them to know. I've gotten some really nice responses too, which made me wonder why I didn't tell them before. The rumor mill is of no concern to me anymore. I'm a fighter. I have always been able to adapt and succeed. I'll come out of this stronger and better than I have ever been before, and I'll try to help others do the same.
The most important thing is that I've completely lost my sense of shame regarding it. Before, I was scared that people would hear about the event and judge me, even though I know I had nothing to do with it and I had no way of seeing it coming. You know, the whole blame-the-victim/survivor issue. I didn't want people to judge me. My sense of shame was impacting the way I lived my life. I feared that I was physically contaminated, and I wore clothes that covered every inch of my body to hide the slime and scars that only I could see. The exfoliant pump was my best friend. There was really no slime and scarring, but that's what I saw whenever I looked in the mirror, someone who was covered in someone else's contamination. It was awful. Nothing I could do would ever clean the slime or make it go away. I feared being a danger to others. But worst of all, I blamed myself. I thought that I should have seen it coming, and I created a fortress around my heart and mind. I didn't expresss emotion. Showing emotion is a sign of weakness, and I am not weak in any sense of the word. No one knew exactly what was bothering me because I wouldn't tell them. I was disgusting to myself--contaminated and low and ugly and dirty.
I don't think that anymore. I am out of fear. I am through with feeling ashamed of something that I couldn't control. I have reclaimed my life--and it doesn't include a sense of shame. I don't have any room in my life for that. I know I am not dirty or contaminated. While I do need some more time before I'm completely healed, I think I see a light at the end of the tunnel, and the tunnel is beginning to look a little more manageable. My life doesn't include shame. It is too short to include being ashamed. I can only take responsibility for what I have done or will do. I can't control what happened to me in the past or its aftershocks, but I can control my responses and the healing process. The process isn't complete yet, but it's beginning to look more manageable.
The thing is, I don't think I'm a survivor. Survivor implies that I just lived through it and was able to rebuild my life. While those are admirable qualities, I think the correct term for me is a fighter. You are probably wondering, "But you're a pacifist--how can you be calling yourself a fighter?" Good question. I am a pacifist, that's not going to change. A fighter implies that I have not only survived but have emerged stronger. I am even more vocal AND active in helping others who have been through events like this. I am now even more active in my feministic and crisis-related services, such as my working with the therapeutic art and the crisis hotline. I want to help others, and I have become even stronger and bolder. I have become more comfortable in telling my story to others because most people won't be judgmental and because it's important for them to know. I've gotten some really nice responses too, which made me wonder why I didn't tell them before. The rumor mill is of no concern to me anymore. I'm a fighter. I have always been able to adapt and succeed. I'll come out of this stronger and better than I have ever been before, and I'll try to help others do the same.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Desensitivity training
So I volunteered to help the crisis center with their gallery of therapeutic artwork for the arts festival. I have been attending training sessions to view some of it ahead of time, since I will need to be able to speak about the content and the artists. I can't volunteer at the festival if I can't discuss the art and exactly what it represents. That includes "desensitizing" myself to some of the more extreme accounts, which they say is important for a volunteer to do. I can't be emotionally drained by something people are going to expect me to discuss. Most of the art is by survivors, but some is done in honor of them. My friends of the Sigma Lambda Gamma sorority put on an excellent event to make their own exhibit to put in the display. We got these plaster theatrical masks and painted them to portray the problem of "masking" violence and pretending it doesn't exist. We have nearly a hundred masks that will go on display. They're really moving to see because "masking" violence is a huge problem. Most of the time, people just act like it doesn't happen or that it only happens to someone else.
Unfortunately, we're all someone else to someone else. The horrors of abuse aren't just confined to one group or one region or one person.
Art therapy is clearly one of the greatest things EVER created, as it allows survivors of psychological trauma to channel their pain and frustrations and anger into something beautiful and intense. I don't know how long it's been around, but it is seriously something amazing. And art is an excellent way to get the message across. Do you like the movies and novels Sin City and V for Vendetta? Credit it to art therapy. The former was actually the author's way of coping with an anxiety problem. At the gallery, we have art by survivors of domestic violence, hate crimes, and rape (although if you see one of my earlier posts, I'd classify rape and domestic violence AS hate crimes). They make some of the most intense art I have ever seen. We made a Clothesline project to display on the quad, which features survivor stories written on actual clothes. It's a way of airing out the "dirty laundry" of the ugly side of life. That stuff has made several viewers really angry, since it can be pretty extreme and explicit. But it's also drawn a lot of positive attention from people who may not have known about that problem or have experienced it.
The art is pretty awesome. It is exactly what that word means--awe-inspiring. It's heartbreaking and hopeful and deep and enraged and [insert your favorite adjective here]. Some of the survivors have painted, some have made sculptures, two featured have made full-length graphic novels. (I've read one named Just the Beginning: And So My Troubles Began which is one of the most saddening stories ever written. The only copy is owned by the crisis center, and they showcase it at every informational session/booth they have. My friend who works there says that ever since it was completed, they've gotten twenty people offering to buy it, even though it is not for sale.) When you think of how much these people have gone through and then how many have been able to rebuild and repair their lives, it's hopeful. That's one of the most inspiring things I have ever witnessed, the rebuilding of lives and strength and trust.
Unfortunately, we're all someone else to someone else. The horrors of abuse aren't just confined to one group or one region or one person.
Art therapy is clearly one of the greatest things EVER created, as it allows survivors of psychological trauma to channel their pain and frustrations and anger into something beautiful and intense. I don't know how long it's been around, but it is seriously something amazing. And art is an excellent way to get the message across. Do you like the movies and novels Sin City and V for Vendetta? Credit it to art therapy. The former was actually the author's way of coping with an anxiety problem. At the gallery, we have art by survivors of domestic violence, hate crimes, and rape (although if you see one of my earlier posts, I'd classify rape and domestic violence AS hate crimes). They make some of the most intense art I have ever seen. We made a Clothesline project to display on the quad, which features survivor stories written on actual clothes. It's a way of airing out the "dirty laundry" of the ugly side of life. That stuff has made several viewers really angry, since it can be pretty extreme and explicit. But it's also drawn a lot of positive attention from people who may not have known about that problem or have experienced it.
The art is pretty awesome. It is exactly what that word means--awe-inspiring. It's heartbreaking and hopeful and deep and enraged and [insert your favorite adjective here]. Some of the survivors have painted, some have made sculptures, two featured have made full-length graphic novels. (I've read one named Just the Beginning: And So My Troubles Began which is one of the most saddening stories ever written. The only copy is owned by the crisis center, and they showcase it at every informational session/booth they have. My friend who works there says that ever since it was completed, they've gotten twenty people offering to buy it, even though it is not for sale.) When you think of how much these people have gone through and then how many have been able to rebuild and repair their lives, it's hopeful. That's one of the most inspiring things I have ever witnessed, the rebuilding of lives and strength and trust.
Calling all psychologists!
Well, several of my psych and community health major buddies have brought up that they all want to use me as an example of their latest psychological discovery. The newest complex is...(big fat drumroll here)...THE SUPERHERO COMPLEX!!!
Typical symptoms include but are certainly not limited to: Always being involved in a million different grassroots causes and being the queen and tyrant and dictator of scheduling, Trying to help out all of your friends even if it includes some very emotionally deteriorating steps to be taken, Running for more than one extracurricular leadership position, Volunteering to help people you've never even met, and basically just thinking you can save the world while you lose sight of everything else.
Side effects involve but are also certainly not limited to: Huge lack of sleep, Consumption of massive amounts of coffee (best if you're the type who can handle the strongest types of coffee), Appearring to be everywhere at once, Idealistic attitude and complete dejection when things don't go the way you've planned them, Ability to debate anyone at anytime about your causes, The ever-present question of "How do you do all of that???!!!" and super-amazing time management skills.
If you know this person, it's most likely that she's just finished typing this post.
The cure: There is no cure and there never will be.
Typical symptoms include but are certainly not limited to: Always being involved in a million different grassroots causes and being the queen and tyrant and dictator of scheduling, Trying to help out all of your friends even if it includes some very emotionally deteriorating steps to be taken, Running for more than one extracurricular leadership position, Volunteering to help people you've never even met, and basically just thinking you can save the world while you lose sight of everything else.
Side effects involve but are also certainly not limited to: Huge lack of sleep, Consumption of massive amounts of coffee (best if you're the type who can handle the strongest types of coffee), Appearring to be everywhere at once, Idealistic attitude and complete dejection when things don't go the way you've planned them, Ability to debate anyone at anytime about your causes, The ever-present question of "How do you do all of that???!!!" and super-amazing time management skills.
If you know this person, it's most likely that she's just finished typing this post.
The cure: There is no cure and there never will be.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
