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Monthly Archives: September 2018

Some Thoughts On Kavanaugh v Ford, though it could be more but you ain’t got time.

28 Friday Sep 2018

Posted by Kristine in Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

advice, birds and bees, Catholic, Catholic school, crime, dad, diary, Ford, humiliation, Kavanaugh, listen, make-out, man, mother, period, punished, rape, sea change, sex, sex-ed, teach, teach your son, truth, white male privilege, woman, women's issues

Mom handed me a small hardcover book one day. I can’t remember what year it was, or what room I was in.  I think I was in apartment 3F. She asked me to read these pages, which I did, and she said ask me any questions, which I didn’t, and the whole thing was done.  That’s how I learned about how men get on top of women and they gently rub against one another and some things are exchanged and a baby grows in the woman.  I remember, after reading, feeling kind of weird. Like, the book being presented to me came out of nowhere. I recall feeling like, “Okay….” but not much more.
Probably when Mom presented me with this book when I was in the 5th grade, still in Catholic school, and I can still remember having the best make-outs with someone whose name I shall not say.  Wow.  Maybe Mom knew I was growing and having feelings and probably making out with somebody and thought the birds and the bees talk was appropriate.  I had no idea what to do with his incredible kissing, I had no idea that it can sometimes lead to sex which leads to babies. I had no idea that I was valued and important. All I knew in those 5th grade days was that I had to go to school, that I was picked on for having ugly shoes, socks, and haircut, that I was punished, humiliated in the halls for failing math, and yeah, we had some good times with our friends playing in the courtyard in the back.

Mom sat me at the table one day. It was daylight and we were 60 miles north of the place we used to live, far from the old bullies, but other battles were raging.  I don’t recall how the conversation began but she told me that if I ever got in a situation, I shouldn’t scream “rape” because no one would help. She said I should scream “fire” because everyone would react.  She said if I got in a situation I should say I have some kind of disease and not to do this so you don’t get that disease too, or I have my period.   I don’t remember what year it was or what lead up to that. I guess she figured since I was dating she assumed that heavy petting would be involved which of course leads to sex.  She also told me if I come home pregnant she would break both my legs.  So.  My sexual education wasn’t great. It left me to my own devices, and I made a lot of mistakes. I will never forget the humiliation of my parents reading my diary from when I was in college that detailed beautiful lovemaking with my boyfriend at the time.

Questions. Statements. Humiliation.  Does this sound familiar to you, woman and man? Did your parents leave you to your own devices to figure out the sex thing? Who taught you who to say no or yes about sex? About pubic hair and periods and condoms and consent?

At 1:30EST there will be a vote in the Senate to confirm Brett Kavanaugh as the next Supreme Court Judge.  I’ve followed everything the Trump administration does and his nomination is no exception.  Judge Brett did not impress me because he did not say he would uphold Roe v Wade. He’s been demure about his Bush years. Dr. Ford’s testimony didn’t help much, either.

What this brings to these morning thoughts are more questions than answers.  Is this the sea change we needed to help women stop staying silent and speak out against their assaulters and abusers?  Are more men willing to listen and believe a women when she says she was assaulted?  Will more women come forward and report their rapes and abuse and their testimony be taken seriously? Will families take this moment and use it as an example to teach their boys not to grope and seek gratification and laugh at a person who can’t say no?  Will families take this moment, no matter how embarrassing, to tell their boys don’t force, grope, assault, abuse women, and tell their girls you are loved and you matter and I believe you?  Will we tell our girls you don’t have to kiss that boy or put your hands in his pants or let him do what he wants because it affirms you.  Is this the moment where we tell our children that it’s natural to be attracted and to want, but forcing ourselves on each other is inexcusable?   Will this be a sea change?   I don’t know.  Dr. Ford was assaulted. Judge Kavenaugh says it wasn’t him. Their testimonies were emotional and believable.  This is a teaching moment for all of us and we should take advantage of it.  Teach our daughters their worth, that they won’t be abandoned if they have sex or, worse, raped. Teach them, your face to his face and her face, not in some book the facts of the human body, natural attraction, but to reject force, and to support our girls if peer pressure led them to sexual acts they weren’t ready for and regret, and reinforce our boys the difference between want–attraction–and force, assault.

Support your children with facts. Support your children with the law. Support your children with love.  If you only give them a teaspoon of each, they’ll wind up in a dark hallway giving handjobs because it affirmed them or on their backs because  privilege says this is not a crime.

My mom didn’t know how to do this and I’m betting neither did hers.  Generations told their daughters to be ladylike and polite. Poised. Accepting.  Is this the moment when we can stop a generational fault and teach our sons that it’s not okay to grope, assault, and abuse women, to respect them as equals, and our girls that they are more than help-meets, that we are curious, intellectual, scholarly, strong, brave, and that we matter?

Universe, Fingerpaints.

26 Wednesday Sep 2018

Posted by Kristine in Uncategorized

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Tags

aliens, border, cars, children, dream, fingerpaints, fishing, Hoya, justice, life, music, ocean, peace, potted plant, questions, rain, son, sunrise, Universe, writing

I wake up at 0400, I don’t know why.

My Hoya plant climbs and changes direction all day, pushing out leaves that start out maroon then turn green, looking for something cling to, I guess, but I don’t know how. They don’t care why.

Somebody’s gorgeous, imperfect black Mercedes 350 D sits in the parking lot, and I don’t know who it belongs to. Should I do penance for coveting?

I had a dream and you were in it and I was awful to you. Should I apologize?

My son shivers under a pile of covers every few weeks and nobody knows how to fix him. When will we find the answer?

Who will tend our nerves and muscle, spine and hips, and tell them stand down, the money has come, go and get well, healthcare has come?

What does an unaching body feel like?

Where does music come from?

Why are those finger-sized fishes jumping out of the bay into the air?

Where did my pouch of flash drives go?

What will my next best writing look like, and who will tell me “Yes, we want this.”

Are you the one tapping on my window at night when it rains, sounding like somebody is dropping berries onto my windowsill from the roof in the middle of the night?

Who’s going to put all this stuff away, and wash laundry, and take the garbage out, and pay bills, and wash the car?

Does anyone else hate the fact that Greenie’s is gone and wonder what will replace that beach bar that the mayor said yeah that was nice but it’s time to move on?

How many children are still without their parents at the border and will they ever see them again?

Peace in our time?

Are aliens shunning us?

Who made the first fishing net?

I dunno.   It’s all just Universe painting, I guess.  Meanwhile….who can think with all this going on…  20180926_070410

I Want

21 Friday Sep 2018

Posted by Kristine in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

give, memorial, ocean, pepperoni pizza, rain, want, wave

I want to stop dreaming about that place where I used to work. I don’t want to remember that place, their faces, and the stress I brought home.

I want to look inside every apartment here and see where their cats and dogs live, what books do they keep, what furniture they’ve arranged in this small space where they live in between here and shipping out.

I want a week of rain, overcast, gray, dripping. I want a week of rain all the time. Nobody else wants this.

I want pepperoni pizza, but it has to look and taste like the kind we had in Flushing, small pepperonis, cupping the grease, crammed atop the cheese, a flavor and texture found nowhere else. My brother knows what this means.

I want the job I applied for so I can see many faces and rise to the challenge of helping with a smile and you go away feeling like nobody else mattered but you.

I want to write about the National Memorial For Peace & Justice in a way that has nothing to do with me, but I can’t figure out a way. Yet.

I want to find my pouch of flash drives and SanDisks that I lost somewhere so I can recover memories, my crappy writing, my happiness, my sanity, my everything, but I know that’s not to be.

I want my friend back, and my Dad back, but only if they’re not angry anymore.

I want to write about those ladies and their kids playing in the ocean who clearly had other ideas about staying dry, but I haven’t figured out the right words yet.

My windows are open tonight, a/c off and fan still.  The air is cool, finally.  This writing thing is coming back to me, finally. The plan is to heat up a sweet potato and broccoli and some rice, NYPD Blue in the background.  The plan is to stay wide open to everything that comes to me, and to approach my bed tired, a prayer, and deep breathing, hoping to be empty so sleep will be full and lengthy.

I have a thing about people who are all about “I want I want I want.” I get aggravated by their “me me me.” But then, everybody wants.  It’s not wrong to feel a need and a want.  My wants and your wants may never meet, but I want to know and understand.  That’s where give comes along and lights a candle and puts “give” into motion.

If you are prepared to stand in the knock you over ocean, naked, then you are prepared for “I want, but let me give you what you need.”

Give someone what they need, and enjoy the wants you receive when it comes.

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