Olympic a gymnast told an FBI agent in 2015 how she was raped by Larry Nassar. That agent did nothing. Consequences for him? Finally fired LAST WEEK. Another was allowed to retire. Consequences for the athletes? Continued rapes and living with the trauma.
All the agents’ rape cases need to be reopened. 500 athletes have come forward. He raped, impregnated, videotaped his assaults, took scholarships from the women. How many could have been stopped if the adults in their lives did what the children deserved? How were their stories negated?
We need to look deeply into our own actions and thoughts. We buy into conspiracy theories while working against actually protecting children by providing education on consent and sex. What are you willing to do? Nothing? Then you are a part of the problem.
Join Me at the Table is working on empowering the community to do its job. Ask how you can help.
Today is my “day of the asks”. I wrote a few days ago that my comfort zone has swallowed me. Today I gave myself the task of breaking out.
I gave myself 5 asks. Two women for my October project. ✔ both are on board. A friend to ask if I can use her name when I reached out to a local mayor. ✔ (no response yet) A family member to see if we can cask a check she gave a month ago. ✔ And my son to see if he was going to cut the grass, a sore topic sometimes, unfortunately. ✔
The garden is my happy place. I love the produce that comes from the work a few months back. I love the greenery. But, mostly I guess, I love the quiet. Quiet where I can ignore the cars, the other community noise.
Or, do I use it to not do what I need to be accomplishing? I have to step out of my comfort zone (remember a few days ago?), make some contacts. I need to complete the flyers for the community. I need to ask difficult questions to people who, more than likely, will say yes.
We all have them, don’t we? My comfort zones are being challenged now, constantly. In business? Reaching out to those I used to work with. Asking for money. For volunteers for the Board.
Why my walls have to come down is because, without it, Join Me will cease to exist.
I needed to see this interpretation of the Jewish faith’s understanding of the afterlife. I had read that “rest in peace” or “rest in power” were inappropriate, but was left wanting for something to feel. Then I saw this…
“There’s a few posts going around reminding folks that since RBG is Jewish, the proper thing to say about her passing is “May her memory be for blessing,” which is true, but I wanted to add a bit of perspective on what that means.
Jewish tradition does not focus on the afterlife. There are a few thoughts on what happens when we go, some of which look a bit like reincarnation, and some of which looks like time to reevaluate our actions and relationships on earth, but for the most part, the whole “Do good things, get good reward from God; do bad things, get bad punishment from God” is just not part of our worldview. (Spoiler alert: this is why I love The Good Place so much- the final season feels very in line with Jewish thoughts on the afterlife.)
When Jews speak of righteousness, it is never with the idea of an eternal reward. We work to be good humans to others and ourselves because justice and peace are their own rewards. We don’t know what happens next, but we know what happens here, and that is enough. The pursuit of justice is one of the highest callings of Judaism, and it should not be misinterpreted as vengeance or punishment. The ideas of justice and sustainability are inextricably linked in Judaism. A system that is unjust cannot sustain, and a system that is unsustainable cannot be just.
It is said that a person who passes on Rosh Hashona is a Tzedek/Tzaddeket, a good and righteous person. When we speak of tzedakah, the word is often translated as “charity” but it is more accurate to say righteousness. Tzedakah can take many forms (including monetary donation) but it’s important to note that tzedakah is not a benevolent contribution given to be kind or nice to those who need it, it is to be viewed as a balancing of the scales, an active working towards justice. To use a simple example, one should donate to the local food bank not to gain favor with God, or to be nice to those with less than ourselves, but because it is unjust for anyone to be without food, especially while others have plenty. Correcting injustice, balancing the scales, evaluating the distribution of power and creating equity is tzedakah, the work of righteousness.
Similar to Maslow’s (imperfect) hierarchy of needs, Maimonides wrote in the Middle Ages of eight levels of Tzedakah, the highest of which results in self sufficiency, or rather, an act that creates a sustainable form of justice. “Teaching a man to fish” is an extremely reductionist view of this idea, but it’s a start- the real meat of it is the idea that charity is good, but eliminating the need for charity is better. (i.e. Tax the billionaires so we can have universal healthcare instead of praising the rich for building hospitals with their names on them.)
The second highest form is where both the giver and the receiver are unknown to each other. This allows both for the dignity of the recipient, and for the giver to be free from personal motivation and reward. In other words, we should help create a more just world for the benefit of people we don’t know, without the expectation of praise, gratitude, or reward, in this life or the next.
When we say that Ruth Bader Ginsburg was a tzaddeket (the feminine form of tzaddik) we don’t just mean she was a nice person. What we’re saying is that she was a thoughtful person who worked tirelessly to create a more just world. One that would perpetuate equality and access, one that wasn’t reliant on charity, one that was better for people she did not know, without the expectation of praise or fame. THAT is what it means to be a Tzaddeket, and I can’t think of anyone who better embodies the pursuit of justice.
When we say “may her memory be for blessing” the blessing we speak of is not “may we remember her fondly” or “may her memory be a blessing to us” the blessing implied is this: May you be like Ruth. Jewish thought teaches us that when a person dies, it is up to those who bear her memory to keep her goodness alive. We do this my remembering her, we do this by speaking her name, we do this by carrying on her legacy. We do this by continuing to pursue justice, righteousness, sustainability.
So when you hear us say “May her memory be for blessing” don’t hear “It’s nice to remember her”– hear “It’s up to us to carry on her legacy.” When you hear us say, “She was a Tzaddeket” don’t hear “She was a nice person”– hear “She was a worker of justice.”
May her memory be for blessing. May her memory be for revolution. May we become a credit to her name.
*special thanks to the linguists and Hebrew speakers in the comments section who helped me out!
After many tries, more delays, speedbumps…it’s finally done!
October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month. I wanted a way to make a contribution, again. This is it.
Now to advertise. And get out of my own way. Now that it’s finished I am thinking that its just an entry level attempt even though the editor said it helped her reading it. I need to hear that and move forward.
What is inside me is stronger than what’s in my way.
I was fortunate to attend the NYC No Barriers Summit in 2018. Fortunate in oh so many ways. First, I was chosen to receive a full scholarship for myself and a personal assistant, my son. Second, I had never been to NYC before and not on a vacation in years.
The days went by quickly. Too quickly. If I had a complain, and I hate to do so it would be that there was too tight of a schedule. Transportation in the city is notorious for able-bodied people, add a chair–at a conference with a big number of others who utilize chairs–and it was downright impossible at times. We missed some programs, arrived late for others. Plus, my chair battery stopped charging and it took my son running around an unfamiliar city to find a temporary solution.
But enough with the complaints. I was in NYC. Celebrated my 60th birthday in Time Square. Central Park. Central Station. Stayed in the Grand Hyatt. Went up in the Empire State Building. I danced with and met with Whitney Way from My Big Fat Fabulous Life–her message of body positively is much needed by me! I listened to Ice Cube. I met people brave enough to climb a rock wall in a chair! So much opportunity.
Then i came home. I didn’t necessarily absorb the energy. I kind of missed the motto–What’s within you is stronger than what’s in your way. I missed the mark.
Until now. Tomorrow I start the Starkoff Capstone Course which is in place to assist people who have disabilities and a work history regain their position in the workforce. 10 weeks, twice a week. I am excited. Between #NoBarriers and #Starkoff I am hopeful for the push to inspire me to do what needs to be done.
I am enough.
I am necessary.
I am ready.
Not a great picture, but…Lymphedema and obesity is so not a good pairing
Leonardo DaVinci The Last Supper Detail of the knot
My high school mythology teacher, Ron Adams, Collinsville. He gave us a question to research: what is special about the knots DaVinci tied on the corner of the tablecloth on his painting of the Last Supper. I think i was one of the few who looked. Couldn’t find it. I asked at the end of the year, my senior. Said he was surprised I was still thinking about it and to check back when I found it but if after 10 years I still didn’t know he would tell me. Dang.
I kept searching. Through some really bad/hard times. I couldn’t find it. I went back, by now the mom of 2 girls in grade school. He was more surprised. Told me to keep on my journey. DANG. I did, through more troubling times.
Fast slowly forward, and my daughter had him 20 years to the year later. Both of my girls had joined in the research. I went back, after all it would have been the right year. NO! He was impressed by my efforts but every idea I threw out was wrong.
Every bookstore I was in I looked for DaVinci books. Found one that said in Vinci, Italy they were known for rope making. Could that be it? Called him, now retired after a bad break-up with the school district. Nope. (I think he thought it had gotten obsessive at that point)
I finally cried uncle. He was elderly and I couldn’t figure it out. He was a storyteller and was giving a free program, outside, for Halloween. I went and told him I couldn’t do it. He kind of smiled and said that was the answer. The knots tied couldn’t have happened. They were impossible.
His message was that not all problems have solutions. Not all can be solved but we have to put effort into it. He apologized for occupying so much of my mind. I told him I wish I could have figured that out much earlier but it was a needed experience. I thanked him sincerely. He passed not long after.
As much as the answer was not expected, it was a process I needed. I still long for something like it to inspire me to keep looking and looking.
I’m currently working on a situation needing this viewpoint. It isn’t soluble. To do so would take a time machine and Back to the Future showed that doesn’t always work out as planned. Looking back, at several, no many, situations i see i made some shitty decisions. Not looking for excuses but i had so shitty guides. Loving shitty guides because they had the same. If I were able to look into their experiences, probably the same. I’ve apologized. Not enough. I’ve been called out on it. I didn’t sit there like the people on those stoic intervention shows and take it, you know, grow from it. I cried, cussed, ignored and retreated. I took it personally because damn it, it was.
I look back and wonder if, given the opportunity, I would have done the same to my shitty guides? I don’t think so. Too much of an enabling social service provider without the social worker knowledge to lay the path to healing. What I probably would have done is cut and left to bleed, too. Then inhaled deeply, walking away saying how damn hard it was but that i felt i did my deed, you know, for God and my country. Except, would I have?
The conundrum of dysfunction. Some problems are not soluble. Fact. Love doesn’t give you a pass. Fact. Sunlight doesn’t disinfect, always. Fact. Some things can’t be unsaid. Fact.
I’ve always believed in the power of being your own boss. Your own decision maker for your present. Your future.
I sold handmade potholders as a kid. Door to door. 25 cents.
I sold ‘stolen’ corn, door to door. Got it from the fields we played in every day. Little did my brother and I know that the corn wasn’t for human consumption; it was horse corn. We learned this when neighbors brought it to our house and told my dad. Maybe door to door has it’s disadvantages, if you are involved in a life of crime.
Babysitting. 50 cents an hour. I started sitting when I was about 12, didn’t stop until I was 28, I think. Probably 30ish different kids. Later I did make more than 50 cents an hour, but never make enough to live off of.
I’ve tried: Avon–you would think i would do great since, apparently, I like going door to door; Melaluca; essential oils; Tupperware; Amway; life insurance; Mary Kay; life coaching…
So, I guess, since I’m still as broke as I can be, to steal a Mark Cuban term, I’m a wantrepreneur. I WANT to do it, just haven’t found my niche.
I know what I will never do again–life insurance and securities. Hated talking the game about financial independence when i was destitute. I don’t lie well. I don’t wear make-up so those in that line were not a good fit. Most of the others were just too expensive.
Coaching? That is what I’m drawn to but I end up falling into the non-profit mindset and just donate my services. Can’t make a living on that. I havevdone good; women have returned. But is it because it was helpful or free? I can’t decide.
I have a book written. Send it to a publisher? Oh, that is just too frightening.
I have a training program developed. Launch it? Apparently that is too frightening, too.
Performing with three strings. 