In life, challenges arise. Driving long distance for me has been a challenge, since I attempted a drive home to Pittsburgh from Georgia right before my comprehensive exam. This was the first time I ever experienced a panic attack. I felt dizzy and as if I was having a heart attack, while I was on the highway. I immediately got off at the next exit in North Carolina, slept in a dirty hotel with my dog, and then awoke to another driving challenge. I made it to West Virginia, where I had another panic attack; my elderly parents had to pick me up in the middle of long and winding mountains. Shortly thereafter, I found out I had scabies while preparing to write my comps. To say that this particular time in my life was challenging, is an understatement. I fought off parasites, got rid of them, taught undergrads, practiced social work, and wrote 60 pages in 30 days.
On Wednesday, after teaching a freshman course and seeing clients the rest of the day, I drove to Columbus for our annual Ohio chapter NASW conference. I used every coping skill I could think of to drive on the highway to Columbus. Not only does driving long distance trigger panic attacks, it also reminds me of getting scabies. I faced and conquered this driving challenge, keeping in mind how much I truly love working for Cleveland State University. I knew I had to control my anxiety, so I could tell others about all the great things we do at our School of Social Work. I am soon to face another challenge that scares me as much as driving long distance. The nature of this challenge is only relevant to me, but the lessons are significant to all. Let me reiterate, only the lessons are significant. To prepare, I have focused on why facing this challenge is important. It is so important because of my mom. My mother, Maria, taught me how to love. She is relentless in how she loves. This challenge is important because of love, and anything can be conquered for love. So now I know the why, I need to figure out how. In order to do this I need a strategic plan. I should read some of my old favorite books. I need to sing my songs, the ones where my voice is entirely in tune with the melody and my soul sings for me. I I need to review old papers I wrote. I need to write and edit and write some more. I need to write. I need to listen to music I need printed pictures of my pets. I need winter accessories. I need to be okay with letting my dragon out (Thanks Pam for showing me how). I need to set reminders in phone to connect with friend families on important days (Leslie thanks for forgiving me). I need to have espresso with my zia. I need to talk to my mom at minimum seven times per day, instead of two or three. I need to play and be around family more. I need to say thank you to my dad every day. I need to stop worrying. I need to listen. I need to talk less. I need to focus on the positives in my life. I need therapy. I need to believe in myself more. I need to return to church. I need to believe in Love. I need to pray. While I was writing my dissertation, I planted several rose bushes. We had a drought in the South that same year. The roses faced a life-or-death challenge. One of my former neighbors (I miss you all) sent me a picture of them. They overcame and grew freely, wildly, expanding and reaching for it all. I think we all have a lot to learn from roses.
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I have had writer’s block for a while now. I have read, heard, and felt that the only way to get through writer’s block is by writing. Although writing is a release, and typically a constant for me; I haven’t been able to find the right words to express my thoughts. Disappointment has built walls around me, which is now affecting my ability to write.
I am disappointed in so many things right now. I am disappointed, or in other words, let down by Jon because he broke my heart. I am disappointed by past and present friends- one of which is a true friend. If she read my blog, should would say in a thick Russian accent, “That’s me, and I’m sorry for being mean.” She is one of the reasons I’m so disappointed in my government. I am disappointed that our my government treats immigrants like criminals, without due process and equal rights. I am disappointed that my government wants to retract rights for most people. I am disappointed that our government cares more about supplementing income for already rich people, while simultaneously eliminating opportunities for those who struggle financially. I am disappointed in Donald Trump, and the other elected officials who see nothing wrong with sexually harassing or assaulting women. I am disappointed in our criminal justice, juvenile justice, and child welfare systems. I am disappointed that our current government promotes violence, greed, and corruption. I am disappointed in our not affordable healthcare system. Who is making so much money off of people’s illnesses? The rest of the modern world provides free healthcare. I am disappointed in America. Related to unaffordable healthcare, is the insufficient finances associated with unemployment and low minimum wage rates. It’s like our government stopped caring about the majority of people. Why? I think the answer is greed. I am disappointed in religion, which has caused me to feel lost and without a spiritual home. I am disappointed in the man who shot up a synagogue in Squirrel Hill, Pittsburgh on Sabbath, and the hatred of others that is reflected through his deadly actions. I am disappointed in the global and institutional societal essence that disadvantages most, while advancing the agenda of the financial elite. I am disappointed in the one woman yesterday who sat on a panel, and used another expert as an example, demonstrating her ignorance regarding racial differences. One who doesn’t see color, misses the fact that racial injustice exists, and darkens the vibrancy that exists in different cultures. I am disappointed in some of my family members, which hurts. I am disappointed in former educators, regarding their treatment of me. Again, I’m disappointed in some of my friends, my chosen families at different periods of time in my life. I am disappointed in global capitalism. I am disappointed that in 2018, we continue to operate under a cast system. I am disappointed by war. I am disappointed in the vast amount of unnecessary blood shed, through death, that happens daily across the world. I am disappointed by death. I am disappointed that many people continue to solidify divides. I am disappointed in social injustice, and our inability as a society to proffer equality. More than anything, I am disappointed in myself for not being better. I am disappointed that I am not writing my vision, or painting it on buildings across town. I am disappointed in myself for getting writer’s block. I am also disappointed in me for not being stronger and brighter. I need to illuminate, not dim who I am, what I represent, and my solution-driven purpose to make the world better. I am disappointed in myself for my inability to invite in romantic love. I am disappointed that I am not a wife or mom, and might never be either of those things. I'm disappointed that I am more apt to work, than live. I am disappointed that I don't have enough work done as of yet. I am not asking for the impossible. I am simply asking for change. Human nature has always been inherently good. It is tempting to pursue power and greed, which is why people act so hateful. Although I am disappointed, I am hopeful. I believe we can do better and that we will. Maybe the answer to solving the world’s atrocities, is to write through them, like writer’s block. That way we elicit kindness, through acts of love. I love life…not my own in particular, but life in general. Last night, I went to the Fleetwood Mac concert with my niece, my nephew was there in spirit. He's always there in spirit when my niece and I go on Ohio adventures without him. I remember when I first found Fleetwood Mac, as a young tween. I woke up to a music channel playing their 'Dance Tour’. I was transported to springs that sparkled, landsliding mountains, fields of wild flowers, and music that sang to my soul. Last night, I remembered what it felt like to connect with magic through music. I think we as a people can learn a lot from connection. When people express love through music, laughter, hugs, kisses, stargazing, singing, dancing, talking, cooking, being, etc. we all experience love. I would rather feel love, than disappointment. Now I want to simply write away my disappointment and reside in a space of love. One if four women are sexually assaulted in the United States. That means 25% of half the population, has been raped. Think about that fact. At this pivotal moment in time, I can't believe we are actually questioning whether or not Judge Kavanaugh should be elected. This isn't Nazi Germany. Not only are you directly re-traumatizing a vast amount of our population, you are actually considering electing a rapist to determine women’s rights in the United States. What does Judge Kavanaugh know about women and out rights. Nothing.
I am disgusted with our government. I was born into a democracy. Now I am living in a dictatorship run by a greedy idiot. Not to mention this same dictator is one of the men that has sexually assaulted women. I mean come on. It’s not fair to make women live through those sexual assaults. What is even worse is making us have to re-live it constantly because powerful and aggressive men are in office. I am ashamed of my government. Women now have to tell their stories. Why is the burden always on us? Can someone please explain? Why does our government want to go backwards? Why deny women the right to live in some peace. I don’t believe Judge Kavanugh or his family. To know love, you must understand surrender. There’s no need for power, just a space to love. I have been put through a lot of men; however, I’m not a man-hater. There are men that uplifted my life and whom I love. I am telling going to tell you any of my stories. It is my business. My business is also helping people help themselves. As a helper, I know that the election of Judge Kavanaugh to SCOTUS is detrimental to the well-being of our society, and will have a ripple effect on the global environment and economy. I think it’s time for us to grow…and accept everyone. Please do not elect Judge Kavanaugh. He disrespects women. A person who cared about America would have withdrawn his nomination, rather than see his country divided and hurting. United we stand strong, divided we fall. Please do not elect Judge Kavanaugh. I want to keep my rights, safety, psychological/emotional well-being in check. I have to do that anyway, as I woman. It's not easy, nor is it fair. One in four of women get sexually assaulted before we die. It feels awkward and wrong being Roman Catholic now, which is a shame because this form of religion taught me how to love and gave me advice on how to be a good person. However, as someone who so severely wants to and will become a mother one day, I cannot continue practicing a religion that hid abuse and failed to protect children. Children belong to everybody because it is them that molds our future planet, and in all honesty our galaxy. Our pollution affects all other planets.
I cannot practice Roman Catholicism anymore after it was revealed that the Pittsburgh Diocese went to great lengths to cover the most horrific form of child abuse. I was being raised in this very diocese and I feel betrayed, disgusted, manipulated, but mostly disgusted by their actions. I remember watching videos from Bishop Donald Wuerl when I was child. I am pretty sure he was one of the many priests present for my confirmation. I am both shocked and horrified at the aims the Roman Catholic Church took to cover up the sexual abuse of even one child, let alone thousands. The Catholic Church is in a state of crisis. I admit that I was a flexible Catholic and did not share in some of the beliefs and practices. Whatever the case may be, I am still a Catholic. Luckily for me, God is unbreakable and so is my faith. I know that these malicious attacks on children, followed by a massive attempt to keep dark predators in their paths is unimaginable. However, this is our reality and it is one that man, not God created. I believe in God. I love God. I put my faith and trust in God. Now I have a dilemma, which is where to I show my own gratitude to God. I cannot do that in the present Roman Catholic Church. Why forbid marriage? That was only one believers form of believing. Why make a law that was meant to be broken? The original popes never obeyed that rule. They hung out with the Medici’s and other rich and broken families. People are filled with the Holy Spirit. I believe all of us are. Why shade our different and vibrant versions of this Spirit through dark and muted clothing colors. The question the Roman Catholic Church needs to ask itself is, “What would God want us to do?” The only way to overcome this crisis is through change. I am no longer a Roman Catholic regardless of what changes are made. I will never raise any of my children in the Roman Catholic Church. I am sorry Father Gentile, you are the best priest. It is the institution of Roman Catholicism that deprived my children of my faith. I will still visit Catholic Churches in Italy because they are beautiful. Thankfully it is God and not to a church or a man that I pray to. I became a writer before I became a social worker. For me, writing has always brought me comfort and allowed me to express my thoughts and feelings in a safe space. When I was younger, I wrote for me on folders, napkins, notebooks, books, and toilet paper. I got and get to deposit parts of me I can’t handle or that I love onto a piece of paper, and now a word document.
I’ve been a cigarette smoker as long as I have been a writer; I know I’m a living cliché. Both of them are addictions. I guess some addictions can be healthy for us, and some can be toxic. When I write and when I smoke, I feel grounded in reality. I am able to view different perspectives because writing and smoking grant me time to think. Both of them relax me enough to manifest me. Writing is an addiction I will never give up, and smoking is one that I am trying to. When I write, my own voice is reflected back to me. When I smoke, I am distracted from me. Both realms are soothing. However, smoking is one of my addictive realities. I could not make it throughout 2018 without smoking a cigarette. I made it to June 2018, two months short of 12 months and half way to a whole year. I don’t smoke all the time, but sometimes I really need a cigarette. You know that's when I'm over the top upset or unnerved by something. When I was a kid, I started smoking cigarettes. There was a time I never thought that I would give them up. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that my actions affect others and myself, in both positive and negative manners. No matter what I am feeling, I am smart enough to make good choices, and also still foolish enough to make bad ones. I know that everyone is different and how we think, feel, and act is all uniquely us. Something that hurts me might not hurt you and vice versa. Something I think is odd, might be completely normal to you. My point in this blog is simply that, we must all figure out for ourselves what is “healthy” and what is “toxic”, which then informs whether we choose to do what is right or wrong. I think that if all came up with a clear definition of “healthy” and “toxic” in every piece of our social lives, then it would easier for us to choose to do right, and resent doing harm. “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. — That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, — That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it.” (The Declaration of Independence)
Today we celebrate the signing of the Declaration of Independence; a document that represents the United States’ founder’s momentous courage to fight back against a narcissistic, unjust, and obnoxious ruler 242 years ago. Donald Trump, someone I refuse to call president, resembles the very king that ignited the Revolutionary War, which led to the creation of the United States of America. We do not celebrate King George III on July 4th; we celebrate those that bravely fought against tyranny and endowed us with a republic. They annihilated nepotism and established progressive governmental standards that changed the world. I know the founders of this country were not perfect. We can all agree that what they did with slavery was probably the worst mistake of the both the 18th and 19th centuries. However, since we enliven the night with fireworks in their honor today, let us focus on what they did right. With the exception of slavery, the Constitution is actually a thoughtful document written in a way to protect liberty, our birthright as people. As mentioned previously, the founders removed royal and religious rule before any other country. They did this by effectively organizing a revolution that overthrew the most powerful country in the world at that time. The Declaration of Independence, the centerpiece of today’s blog, listed King George III’s atrocities. People have their limits, our founders did, and today's citizens of the United States will soon too. Like the writer's of The Declaration of Independence, I have created my own list for Donald Trump. Some is speculation informed by news and other sources, and the rest is simple reality. All of it is truth to me:
“And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor.” (The Declaration of Independence) Happy 4th of July...Let us all be inspired by this day! I never met him, but the death of this 17yo young man has completely altered my life. As my niece (who did know him) said, “It’s a shame that this is how everyone is learning his name.” The past two nights, people protested the shooting of Antwon Rose (unarmed child) by a police officer; they walked miles to block traffic at popular driving areas, such as highway 376 and the homestead bridge. More demonstrations are scheduled all week, to send the message- “Antown mattered and the shooting of unarmed black youth needs to stop now.” These are peaceful demonstrations by a community affronted by society and ferociously grieving an unnecessary loss. His name was Antwon Rose.
Dear police officer, his name was Antown Rose. He was 17. He loved children and to volunteer. People claim that his smile could light up a room. He brought with him hope, joy, and life. He had plans and dreams. His, my /our community continues to love him. What he gave to others, was life. What he did, was live. How he interacted, was lively. With three bullets, you took his life. I ask you, if he were a white boy, would you have shot your gun. I know that we have to stop bolstering this divide between police and blacks. However, I feel like if we do not name this problem as a racial line that dangerously divides groups of people, then we cannot eradicate and eliminate a problem that threatens all of us. We have a police problem that has stemmed from generations of oppression in our country. I know as a white woman, it will be a challenge for me to describe a black person’s perspective. However, I am going to try so I can make a point and will do my best to honor what youth of color, friends of color, mentors and authors have communicated to me. Antwon’s poem “I am not what you think”, reflects a truth I learned from others- black people are afraid of the police. Black people have always been afraid of the police, and how could they not be. Ida B. Wells, documented over 10,000 incidents of lynching by whites of newly freed people, in the 30 years following the Civil War. Jim Crow laws legalized hate crimes against blacks that were enforced by police officers. Michele Alexander (2012), in her book “The New Jim Crow” suggests that Reagan’s War on Drugs was intentionally initiated as a mechanism to replace Jim Crow, leading to the mass incarceration of blacks (mostly men), based on minor drug offenses. She cites multiple Supreme Court cases that ruled in favor of discriminatory legislative and police practices, funded by the federal government, which led to the dilemma we have today. A disaster where blacks, especially young men, who are still undergoing brain development because they are KIDS, are justifiably afraid of the police. Antown’s prophetic poem communicated that deep fear. BLACK PEOPLE AND OTHER MARGINALIZED GROUPS ARE AFRAID OF THE POLICE!!! Unlike us whites, they do not have the liberty to walk, drive, shop, or live without being targeted. Now let me try to communicate what I believe Antwon was thinking before he ran. It is my understanding that Antwon and his friend took a jitney, or gypsy cab, to get pizza. Uber was not an option because you need a credit or debit card for that service. Antown probably did not know the jitney driver personally, and became scared when he heard the cop sirens. I am certain that Antwon, an intelligent individual started thinking to himself, “What if there are drugs in this car that we don’t know about. I could get arrested as an accomplice. I might not be accepted to college over this or if I do, how will I pay for it. If I get arrested I will be stuck in a cage. If I can’t go to college I might as well be dead.” He wrote it himself, “there are only two ways out.” He tried to escape so that he could escape the right way, in a year. I know this sounds like faulty thinking, but have you ever sat down with teenagers, and oppressed teens at that? They are intelligent, passionate, and inspiring; however, they lack rational and consequential thought processes. As mentioned in a previous blog, brain development ends at the age of 25. Is it really faulty thinking though? I might be wrong, but I feel really strongly that I am accurately communicating why Antwon ran, and I understand where he was coming from. Where do we go from here? Antwon cannot resume breathing. Woodland Hills, Pittsburgh, and America, we cannot and will not reverse this event, or all of the other unnecessary deaths. Why? Because we cannot and it is time to face our societal trauma, name it, and kill it instead of innocent blacks. As evidenced by our past and present, we Woodland Hills (now supported by the larger Pittsburgh community), know how to challenge racism and change society for the better. Woodland Hills, the school district both Antwon and I attended, was established by a court order to end segregation and unequal treatment of black students. One mother, led a movement for her son that created our school district. We right what is wrong at Woodland Hills, when given the chance. We make change. That is our history and the literal foundation of our school district. Yesterday, I felt so uncomfortable being white. Usually, I talk with people of color easily, just about anything. This was not the case yesterday. I was so ashamed about the color of my skin. Every time I interacted with a black person, I wanted to shout "I am sorry." They opened doors for me, helped me find stuff in the store, cheered on my dog and his stick/tree. I wanted to tell them to stop being so nice to me, “I’m white and I don’t deserve this treatment after Antwon was killed.” Sometimes I am really ashamed to be white. Should not all of us white Americans feel shame about our past and present? Colored youth, not just black, are killed and imprisoned every day because of institutional racism. We inadvertently mark them as ‘undesirable’, and that is the furthest thing from the truth. That is not my truth and I do not think it should be society’s truth, or anyone's truth for that matter. This world needs a reawakening. We need to unravel the past and remove its stronghold on our present. We must admit that there is no colorblindness in our society. We should appreciate and love our differences. We need to be honest with ourselves, and shout out for change. We did it in the 60s, so why not now? Antwon could have made this world a better pace by living in it, but that police officer murdered him. “It’s a shame that people know his name because of his death.” Antwon I am sorry you died. I am sorry for your family and friends. I am sorry for our community. Let us honor the boy that died, and think about “what man he would have become had he lived?” Antwon your life matters more than you ever imagined. Thank you for living…without you there would be no movement. As a nation, can we keep the momentum of social change that Antwon started for us? Can we protest peacefully every day, not just in Pittsburgh, but everywhere? Can we rewrite the laws? Can we mandate changes to police training? Can we learn to love and respect each other, regardless of skin color? Can we make sure that Antwon did not die in vain? Can we make sure that Antwon did not die in vain? Can we make sure that Antwon did not die in vain? In memory of Antwon Rose. Friendship
Have you ever gone on a trip too long, and felt your body sigh with relief as you saw the streets leading to your home? That body sigh…a total release of stress and anxiety are exactly how my true friends make me feel. I love my friends, and right now their expressions of care, love, laughter, and wisdom are carrying me through a difficult time in my life; just as they have so many times before. My mom had back surgery a little over a week ago. They found a broken bone, lots of scar tissue from when she had this same surgery 32 years ago, and a multitude of nerve damage. Needless to say, she is in so much pain. For the first time in my life, I am my mother’s caretaker and it makes me sad. My mom is my best friend in the whole wide world. I need her. Originally, the past few weeks I considered writing a blog about bullies after I realized I would be spending an extended amount of time in Pittsburgh. You see, I have been a target of bullying for as long as I can remember. In the past it hurt, and I would wear different masks as an attempt to hide and be accepted. However, as an adult the need to disguise and defend myself has gone away. Now, bullies are simple color palettes, my muses, who inspire me to paint my vision of the world through writing and social work. More important than those bullies, and most important of all, are my friends. My friends are the canvases that hold, support, and reflect back my vision of a better world to me. They are also my paint brushes and other artistic tools, who turn a colorful oblivion into something grand and beautiful. I love my friends. They share my values, receive my eccentricities with love, cheer me up, lift and embrace me. They love me too. This loving interaction with my friends is like a Northern Spring to me- that time of the year when suddenly, after months of white snow serene…severe chill, cold and obsolete... arrives green growth graciously. The sweet and sacred smell of flowers and pleasantness pervade the air. The sun smiles and I skip with joy, convinced that magic exists as I ease into awe. That is how my friends make me feel, exactly the same way as Spring in the North. They’re all that magical. How do your friends make your feel? How do bullies make you feel? I know that everyone gets bullied by people and life, or both maybe at the same time. It is really difficult not to invest energy in this negativity, especially when others go out of their way to hurt you. Bullies are like cement after it is mixed with water. If you get stuck in their stuff, neither you or your bully can move forward in life. That is until you, take a sledge hammer and breakdown. In my opinion, the best way to avoid the bullies’ bond or to break it, is to reach out to a true friend. Friends, our real friends, would never and won’t ever, let us get stuck. They will back us up, make us laugh, let us cry, tolerate our rants of frustration, clarify situations to our betterment, offer helpful advice, and love us. When we feel trapped, it is our friends who know exactly how to safely remove us from our cages before helping us rip the traps apart. Let me reiterate that our friends love us; we love them too. Love is the foundation of life; friends and family are the cornerstones. Each and every single one of us has a choice to make…to interact with others as a bully or friend. With some people, it comes naturally to be a friend and vice versa with others. I personally prefer friends over bullies. I know we all do. So what is the point of this blog? My point is friendship. I think that friendship is the solvable equation to personal and worldly peace. I believe we should first choose and make multiple attempts to act as a friend toward all people we encounter…I mean everyone. Offer to help someone in need, whether that need is physical, emotional, spiritual, financial, and more. Even if someone isn’t in need, act cool and start a conversation. Honesty is always the best policy, but humor is a close second. What do you have to lose by engaging or not engaging? Only you know that answer. I believe we should all do our best, not to be bullies. When we encounter bullies, I encourage everyone to reach out to friends. When we focus on what uplifts us, we feel uplifted. Just imagine what it would be like if world leaders decided to be friends…I mean all of them. What if they made a support network based on mutual aid, like friends do? What if they learned the important lesson that friends are constantly communicating….’it is better to receive than give?’. I go back and forth regarding my belief in world peace, although I never waver in my faith that equal treatment of all is achievable. When I write about my friends, talk to my friends, listen to my friends, laugh with my friends, be with my friends…I know without doubt that world peace is probable. We all know though that there are a lot of local, state, national, and international bullies. If people cannot choose friendship, what if they chose not to be or become a bully? What if we got rid of offensive and defensive strategies outside of sports? What would life look like if the bullies kept quiet or refrained from intentionally hurting and/or stagnating others? We as individuals are sometimes our own worst bullies too. What if we just stopped all that negativity? I know that there would be less suicides. I know that refugees would not have to be refuges at all, or they would be welcomed in a new home. I know that there would be less challenges with mental wellness. I am certain that school gun shootings would go down or cease. Race relations would improve. Who knows, we might even be able to save the rain forests if we decide not to bully the natives that live there. We would illuminate the world with love. I end this blog by repeating questions already asked: 1) How do your friends make your feel, 2) how do bullies make you feel, 3) do you want to be a friend to people, and/or 4) do you want to be a bully to people . This is your choice, despite whatever life experiences you have encountered, you do not have to be a bully. That is like letting bullying control you, your whole life. Like I said to my niece yesterday, "Do not let haters make decisions for you." It is not always easy to choose friendship. Sometimes it is really hard not to react, thus becoming the bully who bullied you. I do know that my friends, who chose me, make me love my life and feel like I can face any trial or tribulation triumphantly. My friends let me know that I am not alone. My friends took off the layers of masks I used to wear, and helped me own me. My friends are like sparkly nail polish...they stick to me no matter what, and make smile every time I see them. The point being is my friends love me and I love them too. Thank you to my true friends. Thank you to friends across the world. Friends enliven everything. Friends- us, them, you, and me are our planet’s stars. Peace, Love, and Happiness Jess Since I’ve moved to Cleveland, I have had a horrific and re-occurring dream about my dog being murdered. The scene is always set in my parents’ home, where my dog is poisoned. However, specific details progressed with each following dream. The most recent dream, my dog was killed because he drank from a water bowl poisoned with antifreeze. Can you imagine what it would feel like to have a re-occurring dream about your dog’s murder? I feel a spectrum of negative emotions each time I awake, and the one that stands out the most for me is fear. As this dream is now paralyzing me and my ability to travel, I have to use this blog as a means to examine the underlying implications of this dream. I want to know “what does this dream mean?” and “why is this dream re-occurring?”. Most importantly I want to condemn, refute, and forsake fear driven by this dream.
Condemnation of this dream starts by a close examination of the likelihood it will happen in reality. A person who is able to intentionally poison my Leopold to death, must be overwhelmingly evil in some way. I mean we all have dark and light within, but to kill an innocent animal filled with love, a person has to have more than a little bit of dark. They have to be consumed by hate. That person must be able to enjoy the painful death of an innocent animal without remorse, and be comfortable causing my parents’ hearts to break, along with the potential consequences. For example, I am certain that my father will have another heart attack if his ‘buddy’, my Leo, dies. That person would also have to be someone who would relish in my own emotional turmoil, with no guarantee that it would lead to my demise. There is no one in my life that I know who would be comfortable with causing so much pain to me or my family, and definitely not anyone who has access to Leopold. Whether you like me or not, I cannot think of a single person that would want to cause severe physical and emotional harm to my parents. As such, we can safely conclude that it is improbable this dream will actually occur in reality. Therefore, Leopold is safe. Now it’s time for me to apply Freudian dream analysis to myself. In other words, I must figure out why I am being plagued by such a horrible dream, and additionally why isn’t my sweet teeny tiny miniature kitty being targeted within in it. If someone really wanted to hurt me through my animals, Lola could just be as easily be murdered as Leo. However, Lola is never harmed in any of my dreams. To understand the cause of these dreams, I must examine the difference between Leo and Lola. The major difference between the two is that Lola does not prohibit my ability to travel. She can travel with me to visit family and friends in Europe. She can come with me to Hawaii, Vancouver, New Mexico, Thailand, Iceland, Morocco, Singapore, India, Athens (in Georgia and Greece) and more. No airline has a travel ban on a miniature and delicate kitty. I don’t have to be separated from her. However, most airlines ban pit bulls. Additionally, countries like Italy, require that dogs undergo a personality test upon entering their country. My lively Leo would definitely fail a personality test after being locked up on the bottom of a plane without me, for any amount of hours. Because of this dream, I am afraid to go visit my family in Italy, my friends in Germany, and take random cheap Groupon trips around the world. Or, and this is more likely the case, am I having these dreams because deep down inside I’m afraid to travel, which would inevitably lead to me falling in love? I think it’s pretty obvious if you read this blog that life has profusely hurt me. I know that is true for everyone, and we all manifest our hurt differently. In many ways I drank antifreeze, died, and became a social work professor. Any death is a simple transformation of one type of matter into another; I wouldn’t call my transformation bad by any means. The aftermath of my transformation made me afraid to live love. I am afraid to outburst life with my future man in ancient ruins, the jungles, or Copenhagen. I know that sounds silly, but it’s true. Although part of me really wants to fall in love, get married (with a gorgeous gown from BHLDN probably), and have children…I’m scared to drink antifreeze and die again. I know it’s only a transformation, but I am sick of getting hurt. For once, I would like to symbolically die from natural causes. However, dating/falling in love doesn’t work that way. I need to be willing to take a risk, which would require me to travel. What I mean, is for me to meet a compatible man, I need to start traveling. It takes me around two minutes or less to charm or be charmed by European men. Maybe European men are just better at communicating how charmed they are with me, and to be fair, I’m always extra lively and more open in Europe. When I say that I am more open, I simply mean that I am actually willing to have a conversation, instead of keeping my head in a book or computer. I just wanted to clarify so people don’t get wrong impressions about me. Because to be honest, I haven’t met a living man I like better than Mac, or Neil McNeil, or Gilbert Blythe, or Mr. Darcy. What I do know is that I need to travel to open doors to potential suitors. I need to open up the way I do with guys in Europe, practice that side of me, and keep me open if I’m ever going to wear my elaborate wedding dress, without having to throw a wedding for myself to marry myself. In all serious, I really want to meet my companion, a soulmate, and the love of my life. I am genuinely afraid to travel. I am afraid to fall in love, and most of all I am afraid of death. I’m afraid to experience the death of what I love, even if it is just a transformation. This fear has manifested as a horrific and reoccurring dream about my Leopold. So what does this dream mean for me? What does my dream mean for people reading this blog? What does this dream mean for social work? What are the grander implications of this dream? It means that we must closely examine the impact fear has on our lives, not our dreams, bur our lives. After a close examination, condemn fear. Refute or forsake fear, but never exonerate it. Furthermore, do not allow fear to frame your life. Trust me, when fear rules, life is lonely. Right here and now, let us collectively fight fear. It has no place in my life or yours. Our Youth.
Our youth are more sensible than the people governing our country, and the nation states across the world. A cliché is truth re-told repeatedly, until we need to minimize its magnitude by labeling it as a cliché. Two clichés often said are: “Children are the future of our world” and “Youth are the future of our world.” What is the difference? The difference is age and experience. However young children and teenagers alike, appear to have more maturity than governments and the people who compose them. I have been thinking about this topic ever since the mass shooting that left 17 dead in a Florida school. Although the event in and of itself electrocuted my heart, the reaction from children and youth across the USA impressed me and impressed upon me, the need for ‘adults’ to better protect our youth. What failed to shock me was our government’s response, given the current social and political environment. A government who merits money over safety. A government who prioritizes power over equality. A government who demolishes dignity for the sake of fame. A government who stagnates survival for the sake of greed. A government who repealed liberty. A government who aids other governments to repel freedom for the majority. Our youth are more sensible than the people that govern us. How so? Across the world, including in the United States, violence is venerated on a grand scale. Our congress, who is ruled by the NRA and members of the wealthy class, demoralized our youths’ efforts to have life-sustaining laws passed, ensuring that no one could enter a school campus with a machine gun. Why? Why is it okay to risk the safety of our children and youth for the sake of greed? I’m ashamed of our government. However, our government is not alone. Violence is venerated all over the world for the sake of profit and power. Recently, chemical warfare was used in Syria. Daily, there are countries in South America, Latin America, Africa, and the Middle East that use weapons to manipulate, control, and kill people out of greed. Children, youth, their parents, and others…people, are murdered every day. It’s a shame. “They who own the land, own the power.” “They who have the guns, hold the power.” They who kill, are cowards; yet power is theirs. I don’t want their type of power. I don’t want the future to venerate violence any longer. Our children and youth are the future of the world. Our children and youth are being terrorized because of violence. Have you ever sat with terror? Have you felt its sweat dripping down you like a flood as you rain tears? Have you ever tried to reason with terror to stop the earth from quaking, only to realize that you are the one who is shaking and not the ground? Have you ever wanted someone else to dream for you? I ask this, because to understand the consequences of violence, you must be familiar with terror. Those who enjoy terror or are too far removed, now dictate our shared and lived experiences as humans. They remove peace, piece by piece. However, I have faith in peace because I believe in our children and youth. They impress me and impressed upon me, the need for safety and peace. They are lively and creative in their demands for justice. They are organizing in their schools, already understanding that a large gathering of people with a good purpose, can and will change the world. They will soon be our constituents. Thank goodness. Across the world, we have children who know terror to the point that they will dedicate their lives to ending violence. Mass shootings, chemical warfare, guerilla warfare, drug cartel warfare, terroristic attacks, and greed have caused our youth to reach man-made limits, and search for alternatives. Our children and youth will create new bounds that will not be limited by power and greed. Our children and youth will promote peace on our planet, piece by piece. Our youth are more sensible than those who are currently governing the world. Thank goodness, our future is in their hands. |
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