The following is what I wrote in addition to my signature on a petition regarding The Child Abuse Prevention and Treatment Act (CAPTA) which was passed in 1974 because of increasing public awareness of the need to ensure the safety and welfare of children. The petition included information and stats about how each year, almost 1 million American children experience physical, sexual and emotinal abuse and pure neglect. The information gathered also shoed how approximately 1400 children are killed each year from abuse, most of whom are under the age of one. Every five years, CAPTA gets reauthorized. In 2008, it was up for review again and Bush had already cut many important human service programs in this year's budget (including domestic violence and juvenile justice funds).
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Every child is deserving of love, encouragement, peace, and respect. To deny them of that is an outrage. By not supporting any laws that support the welfare of our children and by allowing those who live in abuse and/or neglect, you are telling them "You are not worthy." You are telling them that they are not important enough to save and to give them a chance at a future that other children take for granted. You are telling them you condone this type of treatment. Why? Why would you allow this to go on? Why would you step to the side and turn blind eye and a deaf ear to their cries for help? Step up and do what others won't. Support this bill. Show compassion. Isn't that what you would want if you were in their shoes? Or do we want more children to live as David Pelzer grew up, thinking this is the norm? Believing that the police will just take you home to the one who abuses you rather than shower you with love. Step up. Make a difference. It's our only hope.
Friday, January 2, 2009
Thursday, January 1, 2009
All Foster Children Deserve Permanent Homes and Loving Families
I wrote the following on a petition I signed about the titled subject. This petition was sponsored by The Dave Thomas Foundation for Adoption and its' purpose was to create awareness to our policymakers about the plight of the 114,000+ children in foster care who are in danger of not having a loving family by the time they reach age 18 and are forced to leave the system with nothing more than the clothes on their back and whatever assets they accrued on their own.
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No child should be without a family. We were created to love and be loved. My cousin and several friends were adopted. Without someone wanting to take them in and having the love for these precious children and someone working on their behalf, who know where they might have be in life. These children, no matter what the age, should not be bounced from foster home to foster home because of age, behavior, or some other determining factor. These children need to know that someone out there loves them enough to take them in, not just into their home, but into their hearts for life.
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No child should be without a family. We were created to love and be loved. My cousin and several friends were adopted. Without someone wanting to take them in and having the love for these precious children and someone working on their behalf, who know where they might have be in life. These children, no matter what the age, should not be bounced from foster home to foster home because of age, behavior, or some other determining factor. These children need to know that someone out there loves them enough to take them in, not just into their home, but into their hearts for life.
End Nuclear Weapons
I wrote the following on a petion I signed on October 2nd, 2007 in response to ending the creation and use of nuclear weapons.
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We do not need another Iwo Jima. We do not need another another "duck and cover" existence. Just because we have lived with the "Every generation has a rendezvous with war" does not mean it has to continue into the next generation. Let's put an end to this NOW. Let's find another solution that does not resort to mass annhilation.
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We do not need another Iwo Jima. We do not need another another "duck and cover" existence. Just because we have lived with the "Every generation has a rendezvous with war" does not mean it has to continue into the next generation. Let's put an end to this NOW. Let's find another solution that does not resort to mass annhilation.
Oppose Tucker and MSNBC for the Gay Violence Rant That Was Allowed to Air
The following is what I wrote on a petition I signed on September 6th, 2007 as an opposition to MSNBC airing gay violence comments by anchorman Tucker Carlson. Just a quick overview,
there was a discussion on August 28th, 2007 in which Dan Abrams, Joe Scarborough and Tucker Carlson were discussing Senator Larry Craig's arrest for "lewd conduct." Tucker Carlson had spoken about advances from another man that happened to him while he was in a public restroom and how he responded by grabbing the man's penis and hitting the man's head against a stall while the other anchormen laughed. Is this what we are to treat our children - that it is okay to respond violently if someone makes a flirtatious advance towards you, regardless of gender or sexual orientation? Read on for my thoughts about this situation around the time this report actually took place.
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Freedom of speech is one thing, but freedom of violence?! If you want to live in a world where fists fly instead of dignified thoughts and words, go ahead. But wait, this is America, after all, where violence has become the norm. So let me proposition this, and don't worry, Tucker and MSNBC--it's just a proposition in the form of a question and not a physical come-on (I'm not as despicable and deplorable as your actions)--but if you were the one flirting (or being interpreted as flirting) with someone else, gender aside, and you got roughed up while onlookers laughed, would you just push it aside and say you expected as much? I don't believe you would. With the size of your ego and the stroking it takes to make you feel like a big man, you would be pitching a bitch and standing up for action to be taken against those who "attacked" you. So for all your short-comings, and this is to Tucker and the staff and crew at MSNBC who sit back and let this roll over like water on a duck's back, I don't expect you to "be the bigger person" and apologize. I don't expect any shred of humanity to pour out from you at all. But keep this in mind, should something like this happen to you or someone you know and love, and you project it over the news waves, do you think anyone, aside from your cronies, will be on your side? No one likes a bigot. No one likes a bully. So why do you think that makes you any different or deserving of apathy? Don't fake shock and sadness next you report some kind of violent attack on a poor unsuspecting person, because you already have shown that you condone that kind of behavior. Grow up. Grow a heart. Unless it's too late.
there was a discussion on August 28th, 2007 in which Dan Abrams, Joe Scarborough and Tucker Carlson were discussing Senator Larry Craig's arrest for "lewd conduct." Tucker Carlson had spoken about advances from another man that happened to him while he was in a public restroom and how he responded by grabbing the man's penis and hitting the man's head against a stall while the other anchormen laughed. Is this what we are to treat our children - that it is okay to respond violently if someone makes a flirtatious advance towards you, regardless of gender or sexual orientation? Read on for my thoughts about this situation around the time this report actually took place.
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Freedom of speech is one thing, but freedom of violence?! If you want to live in a world where fists fly instead of dignified thoughts and words, go ahead. But wait, this is America, after all, where violence has become the norm. So let me proposition this, and don't worry, Tucker and MSNBC--it's just a proposition in the form of a question and not a physical come-on (I'm not as despicable and deplorable as your actions)--but if you were the one flirting (or being interpreted as flirting) with someone else, gender aside, and you got roughed up while onlookers laughed, would you just push it aside and say you expected as much? I don't believe you would. With the size of your ego and the stroking it takes to make you feel like a big man, you would be pitching a bitch and standing up for action to be taken against those who "attacked" you. So for all your short-comings, and this is to Tucker and the staff and crew at MSNBC who sit back and let this roll over like water on a duck's back, I don't expect you to "be the bigger person" and apologize. I don't expect any shred of humanity to pour out from you at all. But keep this in mind, should something like this happen to you or someone you know and love, and you project it over the news waves, do you think anyone, aside from your cronies, will be on your side? No one likes a bigot. No one likes a bully. So why do you think that makes you any different or deserving of apathy? Don't fake shock and sadness next you report some kind of violent attack on a poor unsuspecting person, because you already have shown that you condone that kind of behavior. Grow up. Grow a heart. Unless it's too late.
What One Thing Would You Tell the New Attorney General?
The following is an excerpt from a petition I signed on August 4th, 2007.
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I'm sure that at some point in history, our country actually was about truth, justice, and liberty. When exactly all that changed, I do not know. What I do know is that it is beyond time that we as a country upheld the values that was the basis for our judicial system to begin with. This is why no one trusts the judiciary system-lies and deciet have corrupted the system and run rampant while honesty and integrity are foreign concepts. This needs to change NOW!!
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I'm sure that at some point in history, our country actually was about truth, justice, and liberty. When exactly all that changed, I do not know. What I do know is that it is beyond time that we as a country upheld the values that was the basis for our judicial system to begin with. This is why no one trusts the judiciary system-lies and deciet have corrupted the system and run rampant while honesty and integrity are foreign concepts. This needs to change NOW!!
What is Your Stance on Healthcare for Pregnant Women and Children?
The following excerpt is from a petition I had signed on July 26th, 2007 regarding healthcare for children and pregnant women.
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There is no justifiable reason why our children should go without health care nor their families. How can a mother, father, or guardian expect to keep their loved child well if they themselves are too ill to care for them? How can we expect to better our world if we are too wrapped up in money and ego and pride to take care of our future? For without our children, without mothers who are in the process of giving birth, of giving life, what will happen to us? Where will we be? What of the fate of the world? Don't let our future keep back-sliding and allowing us to get sicker and sicker until a premature death is our only means of escape.
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There is no justifiable reason why our children should go without health care nor their families. How can a mother, father, or guardian expect to keep their loved child well if they themselves are too ill to care for them? How can we expect to better our world if we are too wrapped up in money and ego and pride to take care of our future? For without our children, without mothers who are in the process of giving birth, of giving life, what will happen to us? Where will we be? What of the fate of the world? Don't let our future keep back-sliding and allowing us to get sicker and sicker until a premature death is our only means of escape.
My Writing Experience
When I was younger, I never really got into the concept of writing. Writing was always something that you did for a class assignment or to say “Thank you” for a gift you received. (Although my parents never instilled writing “Thank you” notes, it seemed a much better way than having to show gratitude in person for some reason.)
Despite this, or maybe because of it, I was an avid reader. I drew a lot from detail. In fact, the greater the detail, the better. This drove everyone around me absolutely crazy! I could go on for long amounts of time talking about the sunset I witnessed the night before, or about some childhood memory I had forgotten until just that moment. The first thing I remember writing was a descriptive narrative for third grade. At some point, I got bored and decided to just rhyme words. The starting product was a long, detailed account (a very dry, boring account I might add) about the trees outside the class window. By the end of this narrative, however, it had turned into poem about the crisp white of the snow against the dark bark of the tree. I remember asking myself, “Where did THAT come from?!”
That was about the only thing I actually wrote that wasn’t completely dry until seventh grade. I was picked, for some asinine reason I used to believe, to be on The Power of the Pen writing team. I couldn’t figure it out. Until the teacher read my short story “The Devil’s Playground” that we had to write for a class assignment. It was dark, mind-scary stuff. I was impressed. And that’s when it hit me-I wrote this! Wow!
You would think that I did nothing but write after this revelation, but you’d be wrong. Not completely, but you would be wrong nonetheless. I wrote for the competitions and even for a journalism track at Youngstown State University’s English Festival when I was a freshman in high school. I even won some awards and certificates. (I know what you’re thinking. Whoo-hoo! Not!) But to write from the soul, to write to connect to an emotion or a deeper purpose didn’t come until my junior year at Ursuline High School.
Okay, so it was actually the summer before my junior year when I was taking a History course to get out of the way so I could take another class. (I was a very “weird” child that is growing up to be an even freakier adult!) But it was hearing Mr. M talk about his fascination with Teddy Roosevelt that sent me writing. (Why? I don’t know. I guess to avoid hearing some more about how great Teddy was.) My first piece? A love poem. A LOVE poem, for crying out loud! Me, a girl who couldn’t stand the concept of love, detested showing emotion and couldn’t stand writing, was sitting at a desk in the middle of summer, penning down my thoughts on love. I couldn’t believe it. But it was good. And that is what fueled my desire to write. If I could write about an emotion I didn’t believe in, and be taken aback, maybe I could write about other things as well.
Junior year started with only some young new teachers to look forward to. I had dropped my Honors Literature course (yes, I was in Honors Lit) because I was very ill and didn’t want to damage my already fragile GPA due to extended stays at Tod Childrens’ Hospital. I was in a very dark place that year. The only way I could make sense of anything, or attempt to make sense, was to write down my emotions. I soon found out that it was easier for me to write than to speak. So write I did.
I still have my writings from that year. Many pieces are very dark. They speak of a need to be free from injustices in whatever means necessary. Death, suicide, violence, rape…those were the main themes for these writings. I didn’t write just dark things, however. No, I wrote some whimsical, “cutesy” things about falling in love or about whoever I was crushing on at that moment. I roll my eyes when I read these now. I could choke that’s how sickly sweet they are! Gag me!! But some of the not-so-sickly sweet writings aren’t half bad. I am, like most people, my own worst critic. So of course, I like the darker things I wrote from that time period. (Don’t try to understand me. Just nod your head and walk away.)
I don’t write as much these days due to a full time job, starting school again, and just trying to have some kind of a personal life. But what I wrote around the beginning of the year was an eye-opener! Have I mentioned yet that what I think to be my best stuff is what I write when I’m not paying attention? Like my poem about humanity and empowering women? Well, now I have.
You see, I’m used to being the “weird girl” or the “freak” and I just let it slide. I know I am and therefore, I don’t need confirmation. But I also knew underneath the outward freak was something else, something I wasn’t sure I was ready to deal with. So when I read some things I wrote while watching television earlier this year, it was like a reassuring punch in the gut. I use this phrase because it rang true, but it also wasn’t completely expected. It’s also something to be shared on another day as I know I am bound to be well over the 500 word mark. (Sorry! Guess I just ran with it!)
Despite this, or maybe because of it, I was an avid reader. I drew a lot from detail. In fact, the greater the detail, the better. This drove everyone around me absolutely crazy! I could go on for long amounts of time talking about the sunset I witnessed the night before, or about some childhood memory I had forgotten until just that moment. The first thing I remember writing was a descriptive narrative for third grade. At some point, I got bored and decided to just rhyme words. The starting product was a long, detailed account (a very dry, boring account I might add) about the trees outside the class window. By the end of this narrative, however, it had turned into poem about the crisp white of the snow against the dark bark of the tree. I remember asking myself, “Where did THAT come from?!”
That was about the only thing I actually wrote that wasn’t completely dry until seventh grade. I was picked, for some asinine reason I used to believe, to be on The Power of the Pen writing team. I couldn’t figure it out. Until the teacher read my short story “The Devil’s Playground” that we had to write for a class assignment. It was dark, mind-scary stuff. I was impressed. And that’s when it hit me-I wrote this! Wow!
You would think that I did nothing but write after this revelation, but you’d be wrong. Not completely, but you would be wrong nonetheless. I wrote for the competitions and even for a journalism track at Youngstown State University’s English Festival when I was a freshman in high school. I even won some awards and certificates. (I know what you’re thinking. Whoo-hoo! Not!) But to write from the soul, to write to connect to an emotion or a deeper purpose didn’t come until my junior year at Ursuline High School.
Okay, so it was actually the summer before my junior year when I was taking a History course to get out of the way so I could take another class. (I was a very “weird” child that is growing up to be an even freakier adult!) But it was hearing Mr. M talk about his fascination with Teddy Roosevelt that sent me writing. (Why? I don’t know. I guess to avoid hearing some more about how great Teddy was.) My first piece? A love poem. A LOVE poem, for crying out loud! Me, a girl who couldn’t stand the concept of love, detested showing emotion and couldn’t stand writing, was sitting at a desk in the middle of summer, penning down my thoughts on love. I couldn’t believe it. But it was good. And that is what fueled my desire to write. If I could write about an emotion I didn’t believe in, and be taken aback, maybe I could write about other things as well.
Junior year started with only some young new teachers to look forward to. I had dropped my Honors Literature course (yes, I was in Honors Lit) because I was very ill and didn’t want to damage my already fragile GPA due to extended stays at Tod Childrens’ Hospital. I was in a very dark place that year. The only way I could make sense of anything, or attempt to make sense, was to write down my emotions. I soon found out that it was easier for me to write than to speak. So write I did.
I still have my writings from that year. Many pieces are very dark. They speak of a need to be free from injustices in whatever means necessary. Death, suicide, violence, rape…those were the main themes for these writings. I didn’t write just dark things, however. No, I wrote some whimsical, “cutesy” things about falling in love or about whoever I was crushing on at that moment. I roll my eyes when I read these now. I could choke that’s how sickly sweet they are! Gag me!! But some of the not-so-sickly sweet writings aren’t half bad. I am, like most people, my own worst critic. So of course, I like the darker things I wrote from that time period. (Don’t try to understand me. Just nod your head and walk away.)
I don’t write as much these days due to a full time job, starting school again, and just trying to have some kind of a personal life. But what I wrote around the beginning of the year was an eye-opener! Have I mentioned yet that what I think to be my best stuff is what I write when I’m not paying attention? Like my poem about humanity and empowering women? Well, now I have.
You see, I’m used to being the “weird girl” or the “freak” and I just let it slide. I know I am and therefore, I don’t need confirmation. But I also knew underneath the outward freak was something else, something I wasn’t sure I was ready to deal with. So when I read some things I wrote while watching television earlier this year, it was like a reassuring punch in the gut. I use this phrase because it rang true, but it also wasn’t completely expected. It’s also something to be shared on another day as I know I am bound to be well over the 500 word mark. (Sorry! Guess I just ran with it!)
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