I am not saying this with pride or with shame, but I rarely enjoy anything in life..possibly never… without awareness of the suffering of others. Ice cream, a beautiful sunshine day, the laughter of my kids, looking into Ever's eyes, a hot bath, even when I am suffused in love, I am aware of the pain in this world. The pain of other people haunts me. And when I say this, I know that my awareness comes not from somewhere glorious and saintly, like Mother Teresa, but from my own suffering as a child, which haunts me, and I have finally understood, always will. The worst things that could happen didn't even happen to me- there are so many worse things that could have happened. But for a deeply sensitive and intelligent and naturally anxious and highly imaginative child, it was enough to feel afraid, deeply lonely and often even terrified much of the time. It is the thought of a child feeling this way that leaves me unable to sleep. It is the knowledge of how many innocent children are being beaten and then sent to school the next morning, how many innocent children are being left alone, locked in rooms, unfed and most damagingly, unloved, that breaks me. I have to find how to do more to help, because helping IS the only helping. Crying doesn't help anyone. I want to do something.
These tweets are read bottom up.
These children have a natural right to our protection. It is the biological and spiritual order of life that our young are protected. It is our moral obligation to protect the children in our communities. If their parents or caretakers are too broken to protect them, we won't know if we aren't looking and listening and have thought about it beforehand- what will you do when you suspect a child is being hurt? I have called social services twice in my life, and both times I wanted to vomit. I was terrified, guilt stricken and sad, even though I knew I was doing the right thing. It was still so hard. And I never, for one second, regretted it. I know from watching the people around me in many situations that most people choose to tune out when their brain is bringing them information that they don't want to deal with, and this includes the suffering of a child. Deciding when action is needed, what to do, how to do it, what line to cross- these are weighty and difficult decisions bound to provoke anxiety. People choose to avoid those feelings, and thereby avoid the responsibility they hold to the innocent. You cannot truly grow up until you relinquish your comfort for the benefit of the helpless.
When I find out what else I can do besides sign petitions and write people and raise money and awareness, I will come back and talk about it.
This little girl was Ever's age. It's not her death that is horrific. It's what she felt and knew. Suffering, and panic, and knowing that no one was helping.
What is the point of this? The point is to consider your responsibility. To consider what you will and will not do. To pay attention. To protect even when it makes your hair turn white with stress. Many people who would throw themselves in front of a car for a child might walk away from a man dragging a child by their hair to the car, yelling at them. The same people who would easily call the police on a child left alone in their car would ignore a sobbing child getting verbally assaulted by a man at Target. I know because this happened to me. I spoke up and listen, it took me a minute. It was terrifying. I was afraid my kids might see something upsetting. I was afraid the man might scream at me. But WE HAVE TO or nothing will ever change. The worst thing that could have come out of that scenario is that child leaving Target knowing that not a SINGLE ADULT would speak up for him. Think about what kind of person that makes. The kind of person who will grow up and beat his kids, that's what kind. A person who does not believe in human beings. A person who feels, at their core, abandoned by the world. Don't let that happen on your watch.
what i thought love was is so much less than what it is
Our Pack: Dakota Wolf, Lola Moon, Ian Oliver and our baby, Ever Elizabeth
Someone may have stolen your dream when it was young and fresh and you were innocent. Anger is natural. Grief is appropriate. Healing is mandatory. Restoration is possible. -Jane Rubietta
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"Poetry has nothing to do with poetry. Poetry is how the air goes green before thunder. Is the sound you make when you come, and why you live and how you bleed, and The sound you make or don't make when you die."- Gwendolyn MacEwen
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These Words are Sweet Vodka to my Brain
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"Her looks fading, the vain Lispector became increasingly reclusive and demanding. Addicted to cigarettes and sleeping pills, she exhibited erratic and sometimes imperious behavior. She would call friends in the middle of the night and flee dinner parties for little apparent reason. She had a reputation for being a liar."-<em>NYT on Clarice Lispector
My dear child, who can tell? One can only tell that, by remembering something which happened where we lived before; and as we remember nothing, we know nothing about it; and no book, and no man, can ever tell us certainly.
Some couples don’t ask much of one another after they’ve worked out the fundamentals of jobs and children. Some live separate intellectual and cultural lives, and survive, but the most intense, most fulfilling marriages need, I think, to struggle toward some kind of ideological convergence. Norman Rush