The Radula

At what point does it stop being "free speech" and become "hate speech"?

noreply@blogger.com (Kate) — Sun, 27 May 2012 14:23:00 +0000

There's an ongoing battle in Roswell, NM, that has nothing to do with whether or not the government has a secret base holding alien secrets. While Westboro Baptist gets attention on a national scale for their protest antics, a church in Roswell has taken the track of protesting other Christian churches directly.

The "street preachers" stand outside a rival church during their Sunday services with megaphones and shout into the church that the people in there are damned. They're often arrested for disturbing the peace, obstructing public sidewalks, and other such crimes, which eventually get thrown out... except in a couple cases where there was physical violence during the protests, where there were some more serious charges. The church has contacted the ACLU and has them on their side in a case against the City of Roswell. They claim their right to free speech is being impinged upon. It seems to me that they're guilty of harassment in this case, and should be legally restrained, not given protection to go on doing what they're doing.

If these "street preachers" were standing outside talking to passer-bys and handing out tracts, that would be one thing. This isn't a protest to assert rights of any kind, this is a "mission of salvation"... this isn't a protest to right a wrong, this is harassment aimed at eliminating a rival and suppressing the religious rights of others. Disruption of the service isn't going to give anyone any measure of freedom (which, I suppose, is my line in defining protest vs harassment)

Right now it looks like the police, which seem to continue to arrest these "street preachers" are seen by the courts as in the wrong, although it seems that the private citizens seem to see them as 100% in the right.

So who is in the right?

Preachers standing outside rival churches with megaphones directed at the church during services shouting that the congregation is damned. Hate speech or free speech?

I remember when banks paid YOU to borrow your money.

noreply@blogger.com (Kate) — Sun, 27 May 2012 11:23:00 +0000

This graphic, posted on Facebook, got me thinking today.

Banks have always made money on charging more for their loans in interest than they pay out in interest. When I was young, interest rates on loans were lower, interest rates paid out on savings accounts, higher. We didn't have a plethora of fees. I could walk into a banking center any time I wanted to and talk to a banker about my account and not be charged. Now my daughter's have to pay $8.99 to do anything with Bank of America that isn't done electronically.

Banks are loosing money hand over fist, and they'd like to say it's because of people who can't pay off their credit... then we get news of these huge risky investments that cost millions... or billions. And it seems the bigger the bank the bigger the risks they take.

I've been torn about staying with my megabank. I like the idea of local credit unions. I want to see my money going out to others in my community. And I really don't see why a mega-bank can't run itself like a global credit union, keeping money in the things that matter, rather than gambling for profit with other people's life savings and livelihoods.

My big bank allows me to do things I can't with the little guys... it allows me to instantly transfer money to other bank customers across the country, and for them to instantly transfer money to me. When you have kids spread out across the nation, that's pretty handy. Also, when I travel (which I haven't been able to do much of lately) I know I won't be paying ATM fees because I know that there's a branch and an ATM from my bank pretty much wherever I'm going.

And now even the little guys are charging more fees... because they can, and because they need an influx of money to keep up with the competition.

Back in the 80's I lost money when banks crashed in Texas. I had no idea that these banks weren't insured like the ones I was used to back north. Out of one bank, I got 50¢ on the dollar. I took my money to another bank, which closed about two weeks later, and got nothing. No one blinked when the little banks started going under. Now people are worrying about the big banks, shoring them up with government money, and the big banks go on making riskier and riskier investments, and charging customers more and more in fees.

It's kinda funny, because the right wing idea of the "welfare kings and queens" are about people who take money meant for their basic needs, then buy frivolous things with them, like liquor and big cars. I imagine that bankers are then the welfare emperors and empresses. They go off with the bailout money, paid by their customers through their customer's federal taxes, then do the international banking equivalent of playing the ponies... then charge their customers AGAIN in fees and interest hikes.

I'm generally not one for looking backwards, but in this case I'll make an exception, because I think the safer bet is to put the money back into the customers, make less profit (but still profit) and to stop being a high roller on the customer's money.

Haze

noreply@blogger.com (Kate) — Sat, 26 May 2012 23:33:00 +0000

A photo from the window of the Rapid Ride Bus heading toward downtown today at 4:30pm

The smoke from the Whitewater Fire in the Gila has reached Albuquerque, pushed along by the high winds. It's getting hard to breathe around here.

At Odds With Maslow

noreply@blogger.com (Kate) — Fri, 25 May 2012 15:06:00 +0000

I've often posted about Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, and how I absolutely disagree with it. Maslow presumes that we move "up" a hierarchy,and that basic physiological needs must be secured before we can move on to other "levels":

I disagree, since this would seem to imply that the chronically poor cannot be self actualized, nor do they have strong social relationships, sense of self, sense of beauty, etc... because they are absolutely focused on the physical needs they are at risk of losing, or are deprived of by their economic condition... That without food and shelter security (things an increasing number of us lack) there cannot be morality, creativity, acceptance, or sense of purpose. I'm calling bullshit on that.

And while it's true that without any food, or without breathing, there isn't going to be much of the rest of that stuff going on, many of us, especially in today's economic environment, never achieve the level of security in basic needs that Maslow's theory states we need in order to have those other things, like sense of family, morality, and creativity.

I think we all have different hierarchy of needs as individuals: that our "needs" are based on our values, whether we focus on the immediate or can look beyond to provide for our future, and whether or not we see ourselves as having any higher aspirations than the immediate needs of our bodies. One thing that Maslow has on his hierarchy that I don't consider a need is sex, which is often listed in the basic physiological needs category. Sure, sex is necessary for the survival of the species, but it's not obligatory for any individual to continue his/her genetic makeup by procreating. In fact, if less people chose to procreate we'd be a lot better off as a world society. On the other hand, I acknowledge sex isn't just for procreation, in which case we'd have to bump it out of the social category and move it to recreation, which I suppose would be in the self actualization category.

Maslow rightly shows that if you're not eating or breathing, there's not much point in thinking about meaning in life, but I also feel if you're incapable of finding some meaning in life, there's not much point to going on eating and breathing.

My own personal hierarchy, which I admit isn't fully developed, places priority on future survival for an individual and living family... which excludes any need for procreation... and focuses on continued, not momentary survival.

I know, from years of blogging on several platforms (some of which no longer exist) that people really don't understand what motivates me, what I think is necessary and important to life, and my own hierarchy of needs. I hope this graphic will clear some of that up.

One of the things I've learned is that you can survive without security... that life holds no guarantees. If we were to wait for security in physical needs to go on to other things, we'd never achieve those other things. We'd have no capacity for hope for the future, no ability to love, no beauty in our lives. That's no way to live, and I don't think anyone truly lives that way. Even in the worst hardships, without creativity, hope, and purpose, there is no survival beyond the immediate. According to Maslow, few people reach self-actualization. It would be a sad commentary on humanity if that were true.

Early Morning in Albuquerque

noreply@blogger.com (Kate) — Fri, 25 May 2012 13:29:00 +0000

It's early morning. The birds are chirping, punctuated now and then by the roar of our local zoo's lion, Cosmo, clearly audible from my apartment. The sky is the color of amber, the color of the sunrise though the smoke and haze of the Whitewater Fire burning in the Gila. There's an air quality alert out today, and residents of the city are urged to limit outdoor activity.

I continue to pack for the move, which I know isn't going to go smoothly at this point. There's the little matter of $12, which an online resident screening company claims I have in collections from a previous apartment. That previous apartment denies it. And even though the previous apartment and the apartment I'm planning to move into have the same management company, they have a "process" that involves waiting for an OK from the online screening company. That process involves the management company (the office at the Albuquerque apartments) writing a letter (snail mail) to itself (in the Santa Fe apartment) and then forwarding it on to the online screening company, then waiting for the online screening company to correct the mistake in their computers, then OKing my application and continuing with my move in process.

Then Section 8 has to get an inspection done, which they only do once a week on Fridays.

Which means I'll be moving my stuff into storage on June 2nd and finding a homeless shelter or cheap hotel with weekly rates, since there's no way this will all get done by Thursday, even assuming they could have scheduled an inspection on such short notice.

There's a certain level of defeatism that goes with all this. A certain level of feeling that I am in no way master of my own destiny, that I'm flotsam on the stream of life, being borne along on ribbons of red tape, pushed by the tides of governmental agency changes, and driven by the winds of the whims of those who handle the paperwork and have no idea that the papers in their hands are icons of the living, breathing people whose fate is determined by which file those papers fall into and how efficiently they're handled.

All this makes it difficult to great the day with hope and optimism.

I'm trying to let some of that go, trying to focus on the challenges of today, which include such mundane things as Cay not liking the plain yogurt I bought to make dill yogurt dip and wanting vanilla to put fruit in, or trying to decide whether it's time to change the ant traps, or whether it's safe to risk just a little time out of doors if I'm careful and carry my rescue inhaler. But right now all I'm thinking about is at what point do I need to repack a little more carefully? To select out different items from the still open boxes from the medicine cabinet, my clothing, and my office supplies?

And at what point in this week do I sit Cay down, explain that we're going to be without a home for at least a week, and teach her how to pack for the inevitability of being without a secure roof over her head? I've been avoiding the certainty in our discussions... trying to keep hope alive.

Right now it seems so quiet and peaceful here. But inside the dark clouds are roiling as I try to fight back the despair of another bout of homelessness.

It's that time again.

noreply@blogger.com (Kate) — Wed, 23 May 2012 20:18:00 +0000

I've added New Mexico Fire Information website feed to my sidebar.

It's something, I suppose.

noreply@blogger.com (Kate) — Wed, 23 May 2012 16:49:00 +0000

I keep telling myself that things will get better. I know that life is like the tide, and that there is a certain ebb and flow... that it will not always be good, it will not always be bad, and that while there seems to be a kinda consistent downward trend, it won't end in total destitution. I don't think... I hope...

The long and short of it all is that once again the "process" has me fearing the near future. Once again I'm waiting for certain agencies to get the paperwork done and complete the process that will allow me to have a roof over my head come June 2nd. And while I pack up my apartment and talk about the new place in Santa Fe, I'm trying to hold back the fear, the uncertainty, the tears, because I don't KNOW that it's going to fall into place on time. And there's nothing I can do about it.

The above graphic has become somewhat a theme in my life right now. I've thought about putting it on a t-shirt. But as amused as I am with the drawing of the cat, it's not going to hold me over until things get better.

It's not like I'm dreaming too big. I'm looking at a tax credit apartment in a less than optimal neighborhood, and I'm making a four year commitment to the place, because it's where I need to be so Cay can go to her college of choice. I don't expect it to be perfect. I don't expect it to be everything I want and dream of. I merely expect it to be where I can get to the places I need to get to and do the things I need to do. I also expect it to be THERE... or me to be there in it.

I'm not sure why it always has to be such a struggle. I used to kid my friends that I was in Hell as punishment for some forgotten sin in a previous life. I'm starting to feel that way again, with all the pressure pouring down on me.

I do have a plan: there's a storage place behind the apartment complex. There's a budget rent-a-truck next to that. There's a cheap hotel with weekly rates across Cerrillos Rd, same distance from the university. I can hold out for a little while, but that will cut pretty steeply into my money for rent, and I may end up having to find money mid-month to move. I have until July 17th to secure an apartment and keep my housing grant. That's a good long time... longer than I want to be homeless. I'm hoping that it'll just be a matter of days, not weeks. Or better yet, that it'll be no problem at all... that the background check will be completed, the paperwork done, and Housing will complete the inspection in time for me to move on June 2nd.

In the mean while, I'm packing in a way that I'll have what I need in one place if I'm homeless, and will be able to put stuff in storage without having to dig through it later.

Yes, the picture of the cat makes me smile... but it'd be a lot easier to smile if I knew I had a home to go to in 10 days.

Fledged

noreply@blogger.com (Kate) — Mon, 21 May 2012 13:29:00 +0000

My baby has left the nest and is off for a couple months in Florida before heading off to college. I was able to hold back the tears until I saw what she made and uploaded last night:

She's been drawing these two dragons for while now... the red dragon represents her, the blue one is me. The images at the end of the video were pictures she's given me for Mother's Day over the years.

Eclipse

noreply@blogger.com (Kate) — Mon, 21 May 2012 02:59:00 +0000

Save the cheerleader, save the world?

The kids were asking me what the eclipse tonight was going to look like. Of course, I said, "Remember the beginning to the TV series Heroes?"

Anyway, here are a few more shots...

Unfortunately the sun set before the moon was clear of it's sphere. As it went down, there was just a slice, a horn, dropping below the horizon. From beginning to end, it was pretty amazing.

Yes, we also had made two different sizes of pinhole viewers that gave us a pretty amazing view as well... and one we had to rely totally on for the greater part of the beginning of the eclipse, until the sun was low enough that the filters we had for our cameras were good enough to get the shots above.

This is what makes it all worthwhile:

noreply@blogger.com (Kate) — Sat, 19 May 2012 21:39:00 +0000

Final Days

noreply@blogger.com (Kate) — Mon, 14 May 2012 21:18:00 +0000

I'm in my final days here in Albuquerque... and recently had what may well be my final day at the BioPark. I was out on a career day program at a school, which really ended things on a high note, because the school I was at was just that great.

Now I'm ready to turn in my vest and my key (although I've been encouraged not to) because I know that without a Zoo to You partner (we don't have any potential van docents in the last couple classes, and the next one won't graduate and get van training until next spring) I likely won't be getting any of the overnight trips. And while I love the zoo, I don't see myself buying a train ticket then taking the train and hour and a half into Albuquerque to volunteer for an hour or two then take the train an hour and a half home. If I were employed, that would be a different story. But I just can't afford it this way.

I find it rather ironic that we had a career day for my last local outreach. Talking to those kids reminded me a lot of all the various dreams I had when I was a kid, and how all the accomplishments of my youth seem somehow diminished or nullified with age. My former partner (who went back to work as a vet tech last year) came back for this one last trip, and we were talking about how we accomplished all these great things in our young adult days, and they somehow feel like they happened in another lifetime. It's been ages since she was a pilot ranked number 100 (23 were chosen) for astronaut training. Now she's giving dogs chemo. It's been ages since I was helping design state of the art testing equipment, and now I'm a former teacher teaching as a volunteer.

As I say my goodbyes to the BioPark, I'm starting to think of what I want to do, what I want to become, next. In some ways I'm not terribly different from the kids at career day who are more dreaming than thinking of what their future holds. Once again I'm unfettered and have so many options of which direction to go, and as of yet, I don't know which of the paths that lay before me end in a career, in fulfillment, or in dead ends.

I've gotten very comfortable here, and maybe in order to step forward I have to step out of my comfort zone. And so I find myself in these last couple weeks in Albuquerque looking back a lot less than I used to when I move. I've already got these things etched in memory and heart. Instead I'm looking forward.

A Look Back on Mothers Day

noreply@blogger.com (Kate) — Sun, 13 May 2012 13:10:00 +0000

Back in 2005 the girls and I fled Florida as Hurricane Katrina hit the southern edge of the state and moved into the gulf. At that point, they were talking about a hit near Tampa. We lived on a barrier island just north of the bay, so we were pretty concerned.

But even more concerning than that was the mass on one of my kidneys, a mass my urologist was pretty sure was kidney cancer.

So we headed to LA.

We'd lived in a pretty small space in Florida... a 500 sq foot apartment that was advertised as "a studio and a half". The half was the small room I took for my bedroom. We kept a sofa bed in the living room for the twins.

When we moved to LA the space was even smaller. While it was considered a one bedroom, the 435 sq feet didn't leave a lot of space for anything

the LA apartment, taken from the bathroom

We fixed it up as cute as we could on our limited income, and again the girls shared the futon in the living room.

When we came to Albuquerque, we were living in relative luxury: two bedrooms, two baths, 925 sq feet. But since then, our homes have been getting smaller and smaller.

The girls and I have lived in close quarters for most of their lives... And now they're moving out and moving on. Well, Tay is moving out. Cay will be with me in a slightly larger apartment than we have now, and for the first time in her life, she'll have her own room.

For a while, I was charting their growth with photos from our cross country trip... photos at the Continental Divide marker in Thoreau, NM:

Sept 2005 (Katrina/ move to Los Angeles)

Jan 2007 (move to Albuquerque)

July (2007?) San Francisco trip for Ellen's Wedding

March 2009 (LA visit)

But just in this little time, I see them growing up.

It hardly seems possible that all of my children are adults now... and that for the most part, my work in mommydom is done. I'm transitioning from "mommy" to "mom", with all the feelings of joy and sadness and pride and loneliness that involves. And while I've been looking forward to this day for a long time, a part of me is also feeling a little lost.

My babies are all grown up.

I'm sure they must be having some new feelings about all this too. In 7 days, Tay will be moving out, going to FL to stay with Ellen for a few months before starting school. Ellen's spare bedroom, previously her office, is being temporarily turned into Tay's room. For the first time in her life, she'll also have her own room. Of course, since she'll be living on campus, that's going to be kinda short lived.

Watching them deal with the apparent suddenness of adulthood, all the changes with graduation, college coming up, and leaving the home, has made me very proud of them. They're learning independence very quickly, having been pretty much thrown into it with the issues with their IDs, dealing with Social Security and banks on their own, and working through some of the stuff they need to in order to get to college.

It's unfortunate that they hadn't worked. The economy has changed, and with a greater than 20% unemployment rate for teens, I'm not surprised that the kids hadn't found jobs. For Tay it'll be a lot different. There's work in Las Cruces for those who'll take it, and while I'm not sure she'll take work on with all the extra animating and volunteer work she'll be doing, at least I know she'll be following a schedule and doing her own thing.

Now for Cay things will be a little different. Work is much harder to find in Santa Fe, and her volunteer and internship schedules on top of the work she'll be doing in school are going to limit her time. She's still going to be dependent on me to provide food, shelter and clothing, although I hope as the next few years go by she'll be able to gain some level of independence.

And for me? I'm thinking farther ahead, to the point where the girls are gone away for their jobs or continuing education, and I'm alone. I've even picked out a nursing home for myself (in Santa Fe).

I'm no longer the young mother I was, no longer filled with ideas of sewing little dresses, or braiding my girls' hair, or taking the kids to gymnastics or dance or some other after school program. Today as mom I'm looking back and not forward, and I have to say, as rough as some of it was, I'm enjoying the view.

I'm in good company.

noreply@blogger.com (Kate) — Sun, 13 May 2012 00:13:00 +0000

I was watching the news tonight and there was a piece on poverty in America which stated that one in six Americans are food insecure.

Food insecurity is defined as being unable to provide sufficient food for your family on your income. This isn't just people who are on welfare, not just people who are on Social Security, but a number of working individuals in jobs that we would normally have thought of as middle class. Young teachers with families don't make enough to raise themselves above the poverty level in many areas (especially poorer areas where wages tend to be lower, like my own state of NM, which has one of the poorest average teacher pays in the US)... one such teacher in California was featured in the piece.

One in SIX. That's a pretty large number, and virtually guarantees that someone you know is food insecure.

Today the girls and I went to the food pantry, where we once again ended up with plenty of breads and sweets, and not so much in terms of nutritious food. We all chose a can of green beans (one each) and I got a head of lettuce, Cay got a small container of strawberries, and Tay (unsurprisingly) passed on the one item of produce we were offered. We all also got a small jar of peanut butter.

Because of my food allergies and my issues with sugar (over the last year and a half I've developed an issue with insulin regulation ... not diabetes... but my blood sugar drops suddenly. If I have more than a tiny amount of carbs, my pancreas over-reacts and I can pass out, seize, or worse), Out of the huge mass of food they gave us (and some of which we turned down) I can eat... the green beans and the lettuce.

The rest of the food will go to the kids: Tay, who eats everything carbohydrate that isn't nailed down gets off the best, and the 6 bags of pasta, and grocery bags filled with breads, cookies, croissants and donuts will make up a large part of her diet for the month. Cay will have more difficulty: she's in need of losing weight, but gets hungry, and when other food is short, the breads are her only option. The breads won't be healthy for me... I do have a few flatbreads I can eat.

I've gone shopping. I've had to, and yes, I spent some of the money that I'd put aside for the move. We're about $300 short on the move in a couple weeks, and I'll be additionally short next month because of the error in the Medicaid office that has me paying my Medicare premiums (and all my medications) until they get it straightened out... they estimate three months.

The problem of having healthy foods is a problem 1 in 6 Americans are facing, and, after looking at the line at the pantry today, I'm willing to believe quite a few of them are now turning to the pantries where they get very little in the way of nutrition, and quite a bit in the way of breads and sweets. In a nation where obesity is an issue, that alone should be raising some red flags. But even more than that, we're giving the lowest quality of food to those who are more likely working the hardest, or the sickest, or who have children at home.

For some of us, the food we'll eat is risky. I will, at some point this month, have to choose between foods that may cause a severe reaction and going hungry and having my blood sugar drop from that. I'll probably chose to eat. I'll likely be very ill. But, as I'm told, I know I need to be grateful for whatever is given me, whatever I can get to fill my stomach.

And as I look around in the pantry, it's pretty obvious that it's now filled with seniors, working families, and the disabled, and not simply those who we think fit the stereotypes of poverty.

Because I am an Atheist...

noreply@blogger.com (Kate) — Tue, 08 May 2012 22:20:00 +0000

Crommunist has started what has basically become a meme on FreeThoughtBlogs.com taking the next step from PZ Myers' "Why am I an Atheist" series. It's an interesting view on atheism, moving away from the cause into the effect side of the equation.

I'm glad to add my two cents.

Because I am an atheist...

I no longer have to struggle to reconcile what I see and experience with what I want to believe is true, or what I'm told I should believe is true. I must evaluate everything on it's own merits, not by comparing it to the requirements of my faith.

I can look at people who are different than me, people who are gay, people who are of different color, people who have different religions, people who have different ideas... and not see them as sinners that need to be saved, but as people who have had different experiences or made different choices. I do not think that making them believe as I do is an act of righteousness, although there are times it may be an act of reason.

I try to squeeze every bit of joy, knowledge, and experience out of this life. I know there is no other, and that some day I will be no more. If I want joy, I need it here. If I want to share my love, I need to do it in this lifetime. If I want to be remembered, if I want to leave a mark, if I want to know that something of me goes on, it must be that I've done something memorable, something that made an impact, something that changes some little piece of the world.

I am responsible for my own actions and my own inaction. Man is not "like an ass, ridden at times by God and at others by Satan" (Martin Luther). Jesus does not take the wheel. Ganesha does not remove the obstacles, and the Goddess isn't going to bless me. There is no divine will guiding my steps, and I can't use it as an excuse for failure, nor can I use it as a reason for success (no, I'm not always right because God is on my side).

I do not wait on the Lord. I know that if I let go of something, there is no God to pick it up. If I chose inaction, I take responsibility for that. And I know if everyone on the highway really let Jesus take the wheel there'd be a heck of a pile up on the interstate.

I don't believe that there's a time limit on human existence on this planet set by God, or that it doesn't matter what we do to this planet because it's not our permanent home. This is all the home we have, and any time limit we have is one we've imposed as a result of our carelessness.

I do not feel entitled to the planet. It was not given to me. This world is my home, and like my home, I don't want to foul it, destroy it, or harm any of the inhabitants. I feel no need for "dominion". I feel a need to be part of it.

I'm not ashamed to be related to a monkey. I'm not ashamed to be a primate, a mammal, an animal. I know that I have kinship with all life on Earth, and that I'm a part of the food web, the circle of life, or whatever you want to call it. I don't think that humans are "superior" in some sort of divine way, nor is our importance any greater (or less) than any other species on the planet, although I recognize that we've developed a greater capacity to impact the health of the planet as a whole than any other species. I'm not sure that says anything about our "superiority", but I'm pretty sure it says a lot about our responsibility.

I'm not dirty, broken, and unworthy. I don't see humanity as a product of original sin, or that we need to overcome some beastial or base nature in order to reach the divine. We aren't born wrong and need to be fixed... not by any spiritual practice, not by the Blood of the Lamb, not by the 8 Fold Path. We are born fully human, fully what we are, and full of potential. We are born ourselves, and remain ourselves... and that's good and right.

I'm not worried about going to Hell, even though you may think I may be. You may fret over my salvation. You may worry I'll never reach Nirvana. You may think some day I'll be sorry. I'm sorry you feel that way. The way I see it, some day I'll be dead... And some day so will you, and all that worry will come to naught. And it's OK. I just choose to live my life NOT fretting over whether or not I'm worshipping the right God, praying the right prayers, eating the right foods, celebrating the right days, and so on, when I've no evidence of any of it making any difference. I choose to live out my days in ways that I know matter.

Because I'm an atheist, I want to use my limited time in this life in acts of love, learning, and conservation, not in fear of damnation, hatred of the different, and waiting for God(ot).

Today's Sword of Damocles

noreply@blogger.com (Kate) — Tue, 08 May 2012 00:30:00 +0000

Over a year and a half ago I wrote "How to Prepare for Homelessness" I now once again find myself in the same situation I did back then when I wrote 27 Cents Short of a Taco. In short, Section 8 is sitting on paperwork which I need to move, with a termination of lease and Section 8 for this city coming up at the end of the month.

In previous posts I've described briefly how the timeline goes:

(1) Put in 30 day notice with apartment complex, get it signed as received by the management.

(2) Call Section 8 (in city A) and wait for an appointment.

(3)Have an appointment with Section 8 (in city A) and totally re-certify.

(4) Wait until Section 8 (in city B) receives the paperwork, then call to schedule an appointment.

(5) Meet with Section 8 in city B, get housing voucher from that city.

(6) Go get an apartment, but DON'T SIGN THE LEASE YET or move in (that will invalidate the voucher)

(7) Once you've secured an apartment, schedule a unit inspection with Section 8.

(8) Have the unit inspected, then sign the lease.

And yes, it all has to be done in that order.

I'd put in my 30 day notice a little early on April 30th. I then called my Section 8 worker to get an appointment. She wanted me to schedule for two weeks out... which gave me (and city B) only two weeks to do steps 4-8: Meet with the other housing unit, find an apartment, schedule an inspection, sign the lease and move in. Obviously that wasn't going to work, especially when she told me that they no longer faxed the vouchers, but sent them US Post.

With a little insistence (and calls to the Section 8 manager) I got an appointment for May 1... and since then have been calling Santa Fe to schedule my appointment with them, which is contingent on their receiving the paperwork from Albuquerque. Now it only take a day for mail to get from here to Santa Fe, and it hasn't arrived. I could excuse this all by saying "well, maybe it got lost in the mail" but the apartment complex here in Albuquerque hasn't gotten THEIR letter (which I was given a copy of) that was also supposed to have been mailed on the 1st.

And Albuquerque Housing has not returned my calls.

So here's the situation: I have to move out on June 2nd. Section 8 in Santa Fe can't start my grant there until they get the paperwork from Albuquerque. Once they get that paperwork, they have to schedule an appointment, and they are also telling me that it's going to take a week or two to get that done. Both Housing Units assure me that it's not THEIR problem what the other unit is doing with my grant, and that if I can't get them to do their work in a timely fashion, I'm out of luck.

Out of luck means homeless.

You'd think that once you've got your housing grant, once things have started rolling, that it'd just be a matter of providing the information they want when they want it. It isn't. All of us are under the Sword of Damocles. We never know when that thin thread that keeps us housed, fed, and provided with medical care will snap... and it doesn't matter what we do, what precautions we take.

Today I also spent time in the Medicaid office. Friday I received notice that my SLIMB (the program that pays my Medicare premiums) was ending due to "Failure to complete recertification". They never sent me recertification forms or notified me that I was due for recertification. That means that next month my Social Security payment is "supposed" to be reduced to pay for my Medicare premium according to the Medicaid office. Social Security, however, has no record of any of this happening.

Social Security has also failed to provide an official notice stating that Cay's checks based on my benefit end this month. They have nothing officially on record. They did provide a letter from the local office today that stated that she'll stop receiving Social Security "when she graduates"... which no agency will take because it has no actual date of termination. Oh, and the dates on the letter are wrong, stating that the amount she's getting has been the same since Dec 2011... and it's an amount that she's NEVER received. I can only assume that her May check will be prorated, and for some reason the amount for the next check is right, but the record is totally messed up. (no, it doesn't make sense to me, either)

Some good news in all this: While I was writing this post, Santa Fe called me back. The case worker over there has been VERY good about returning my calls. While she did NOT receive my paperwork, she did agree to set up an appointment for the 17th in anticipation of receiving that paperwork. The appointment, as it turns out, was to provide me with a list of the information I am required to provide her in order to secure my voucher (a step I was unaware of, and wasn't in the list above.) I have a pretty good idea of what's required, however, and plan to have it all with me on the 17th, and hopefully can secure my voucher then and there and go directly to the apartment complex and put in my application.

If it all goes smoothly from here, I'll know if there's an apartment available and if my application has been accepted about a week before I have to move... and then I can set up the inspection and hope Section 8 OKs the unit for occupancy and I can sign my lease.

In the mean while, I'm compiling maps of the city services, finding a storage unit for my possessions, and preparing for the possibility that things won't go smoothly, and that I'll wind up out on the street.

I am certain that I'm not the only person who faces these issues. Being disabled and poor makes you vulnerable. If one of these government agencies makes a mistake they pass it off and say they'll correct it later (I'm told it may take up to 3 months to rectify the SLIMB issue). It's no big deal for them: it's an inconvenience. For people like me it could mean not being able to afford our medicine and medical care for three months. It could mean paying more for rent than we are supposed to. It could mean homelessness.

Trash Pickers

noreply@blogger.com (Kate) — Mon, 07 May 2012 14:15:00 +0000

Every day I see trash pickers on the street: Men and women, often homeless, searching for cans which can be recycled. There are even movements to eat for free with discarded food. Generally, these people are seen as industrious poor... so long as we're talking about nickel recyclables and day old food. So would it be just, would it be right to start arresting these trash pickers?

What if what they picked up was a million dollar lottery ticket? Because that's what happened with one Arkansas woman.

I have every sympathy for the woman who tossed the winning ticket, but simply can't agree with the judge, who's ruling stated that while she threw out the paper the lottery ticket was printed on, she could not have thrown out the claim on the winnings, since she was unaware of the value of the ticket.

That seems to open up a can of worms.

Should we, then, be able to lay claim to anything in the trash someone else values or has taken? Should trash pickers be charged the value of the food they eat, the cans they pull? What value, if any, is placed on the effort they put into turning that trash into cash (for those who are recycling or selling?) and is it just to take the money from the lottery-ticket finder and not the can recycler?

It seems to me that if I were to clear out a family member's estate, and sell the stuff at garage sale or donate it to charity, I should, because of this ruling, be able to sue if it turns out that tea pot I sold for $1 turns out to be a rare antique.

But this is where I see the judge as wrong: Once you throw something out, or put a price tag on it at a garage sale, or you donate it, you've demonstrated YOUR value of the item. If you throw something out, the value is $0.

It would seem to me that the woman who bought the ticket would have to show that the ticket was not purposely thrown out, but lost, in which case she might have a claim. If she were throwing out a paper cup and her bracelet caught on the trash can, broke,and fell into the trash, for example, that bracelet would still be hers (but not the paper cup which she tossed in with intent)

An even stronger claim might be for the store owner, who owned the container that the ticket was tossed into on store property. Did throwing the ticket out in her store constitute giving it to her? Or, because she did not retrieve the ticket herself, did the store also acknowledge that the ticket held no value to them because it remained in the trash?

The problem with the ruling, that the ticket could not have been abandoned because the previous owner did not know it's value, can have far reaching implications. Rather it seems that the judge went with his gut rather than the law (who wouldn't feel sorry for someone who threw out a million dollars?) and in making law, has cast a net of illegality over anyone who's every recycled, Freecycled, bought something at a garage sale, or any agency that received a donation of goods rather than cash.

It means that when people put furniture on the curb and you pick it up, refinish it, and either put it in your home or sell it at auction you're liable to pay the person who discarded it. It criminalizes picking up pennies on the sidewalk, and it means picking up that teapot at the garage sale for a buck could land you thousands in debt.

For the most part, this isn't a law that will effect the very rich. Most trash pickers don't fall into that category. Instead, it effects industrious people who are making a buck or two, who are eating for free, who are taking items that would otherwise end up in a landfill and finding use for them... people who, although often looked down on, are of some benefit to society and are attempting to make their own way.

Know the Signs

noreply@blogger.com (Kate) — Sun, 06 May 2012 16:25:00 +0000

and now for something completely different...

Rape and Risk: Strategies in Surviving Our Rape Culture.

noreply@blogger.com (Kate) — Sat, 05 May 2012 14:21:00 +0000

There's always conflicting information when it comes to avoiding rape. Most of the advice involves feminine action, and is pretty sensible: be aware of your surroundings, avoid vulnerable places when possible. But some of it goes beyond that, and a lot of it only addresses the minority of sexual violence crimes.

How do we imagine the rapist? Most people think of the creepy guy lurking in shadows ready to grab the unsuspecting woman. But most rape doesn't happen that way.

‎Somewhere in America, a women is raped every two minutes, according to the U.S. Department of Justice. One in four women are victims of rape or attempted rape, 84 % of those women knew their attacker, 57 % of the rapes have happened while on dates. About 42 % of the victims told no one, 38 % of the women raped are between the ages of 14-17. 75 % of men and 55 % of the women involved in date rape had been drinking or taking drugs before the attack occurred.

Recently a chain mail has been going around FB and email which alleges to be compiled of information from rapists on who they think is vulnerable. In typical chain mail fashion, the end of the scree asks that this be forwarded. The problem is the often self contradictory and sometimes dangerous advice in the post.

There's long been an argument over, for example, self defense in a case of stranger-rape. The email/post rightly points out that using keys for self defense is not ideal, because you have to do it at close range... and that carrying something like an umbrella would be more deterrent. Unfortunately, that probably no longer holds true, since most umbrellas are of the fold up variety, and a man's reach is still more likely to be longer than a woman's with a typical tote style umbrella.

The question of fighting back at all is a loaded issue. While some (like this article) state that you're more likely to be let go the more pain and difficulty you present, others argue that since rape is a crime of power rather than sex, that assailants may be excited or incited by resistance. And I'm not advocating passivity in the case of rape, only common sense. One of the things that the post points out is that some of these opportunistic rapists carry scissors to cut away clothing. Unless I'm VERY SURE I'll be able to disable and get away from a would be attacker, I personally would not want to engage a man armed with a sharp cutting tool in a physical battle. I'd rather be raped than murdered.

Other suggestions were to take the elevator instead of the stairs (do you really want to be confined in an small space with one exit?) and having pepper spray (if you can find it, open it, and get it out of your purse before he's on you).

About 5 years ago, my then almost 13 year olds were chased down by two men in a vehicle. Both girls look a little older than they were, and that seemed to play into the police response, which was to do absolutely nothing, since the men didn't actually catch them.

The girls had just gotten off the bus from school (they use public transportation) when a car pulled up on the well lit, heavily traveled street. The men began shouting at them, and when they didn't respond, called them sexually explicit names in both English and Spanish, then ordered them into the car. The girls ran.

On the surface, or if you take the advice of some of these rape prevention posts, emails and flyers, they seemed to do everything wrong. Rather than taking the well lit street, they hopped a low fence and ran into the drainage ditch. The men pulled around the corner and off the road, then abandoned the car to chase them. Because the house backed on the ditch, they made it to the front door, pounding and screaming, ahead of the men. When I ran to the door and opened it, one of the men was still running toward us near the end of the driveway.

If the girls had kept to the well lit road, the men would have been able to get ahead of them with their car. Going against the advice, taking the shortest route to flight and the one that presented the most difficulty to the attacker was probably what saved them, even though it led them through a dark and isolated space.

The greatest problem, to my mind, is that while there's a certain amount of common sense you can use in dealing with the opportunistic rapist, you're still neglecting to address the most prevalent rapes: those that are committed by familiar people in familiar settings.

Most of us have had some experience in hearing or reading this kind of advice... and all the contradictions. There are some basics, however, that I think everyone can agree on:

Be aware of your surroundings. Whether on a date, at home, or in the grocery store parking lot, be aware of who's around you and what they're doing.

Act assured. Make eye contact. Don't clutch your purse across your chest, dart your eyes, or look vulnerable. You can keep your eye on things without broadcasting fear or vulnerability.

Don't tolerate controlling behavior or domestic abuse. One of the biggest mistakes women make (myself included) is waiting too long to leave. Much has been made of men who go after women who leave them, but the longer the abuse goes on, the more likely that is to happen. If you leave at the first sign of a controlling nature: isolating you from friends, "downing" you with insults, criticism, or insisting you change, and certainly at the first sign of physical force, you're more likely to escape unscathed. This also holds true in a date situation where you don't know the person as well: if the seem controlling, if red flags are going up in your head, LEAVE IMMEDIATELY. It's better to let a good one get away than have to deal with a bad one.

Report rape. This is still pretty hard for women to do in an increasingly unfriendly legal system where the victim is often belittled, degraded, and accused themselves. But this is the point where you have to stand strong. Rapists (including domestic rapists) don't stop. They've probably raped before, will probably rape again. The best way to stop rape is to keep the rapists off the streets. And yes, I know how many of these guys get off without doing time, or how little time they serve... but any time they're off the street they aren't harming women. And wouldn't you have wanted to know that the woman before you at least tried to get this creep put away?

Vote. This isn't an immediate answer, but it's the long range answer. Vote for people who will pass laws that promote the safety of women. Vote against the idiots who refuse to pass the Violence Against Women Act, who limit abortions in the case of rape, who refer to "rape babies" as "a gift from God". Ultimately the only way to curtail rape is to eliminate the culture in which rape thrives.

Newton's Third Law of Religion

noreply@blogger.com (Kate) — Fri, 04 May 2012 16:01:00 +0000

For every action, there's an equal and opposite reaction. That's the reason behind the Day of Reason.

Today Tay came out and said "Why do we have to have a day of non-religion, why can't we just let them have their day of religion?"

It's a good question, and if religion hadn't become such a driving force in American policy and politics, I doubt very much any of us would have blinked at a National Day of Prayer.

Recently I lost a FB friend who was talking about this very issue. His statement was that a person's faith doesn't effect other people. I posted a few examples of faith interfering with the lives of individuals... citing religious reasons for prejudice against gays, blacks, and the war on women. His response was that not all Christians were like that, and that I was painting religion with too broad a brush. My response is that the good and moral behavior of some Christians in the name of Christ does not excuse hatred and prejudice in others, and as a result, he unfriended me.

I do think that some atheists have gone too far and have become intolerant of any faith. I agree with what PZ Meyers had previously said when he compared faith to knitting. While it may give some people comfort, it shouldn't be the basis of public policy or law. Of course, should knitting needles become weapons in the hands of knitters, then I think we'd have a problem.

I personally know a lot of people who belong to this church or that church who are loving and kind, who live their lives seeking moral and just lives for themselves, and who are good stewards of the Earth and lovers of mankind. Some of this they credit to their faith. And that's great. I also know quite a few people on the other side of the spectrum, who are hateful, prejudice and angry, and they not only hold these beliefs, but act on them. It's these actions which have made their way into public policy and law, and are extremely dangerous to the rights of others.

The thing that bothers me the most, is that those religious who are behaving in a loving and moral fashion are not willing to denounce those who are hateful.

Is it that denouncing the bad fruit denounces the tree in their minds?

When the moral religious remain neutral, and the immoral religious start pushing, it's small wonder that there are people who are pushing back... and it's the non-religious who are doing this, because they have no stake in the tree bearing the bad fruit. That gives it the false impression of being a "war on religion." But it's not. It's a defense against oppression. It's the reactive force to the imposition of prejudicial, hateful, and ignorant values by a specific group which does not represent the mores of the general public, or the proofs of science, or the values of the very faith they allege to espouse.

Rush to Judgement

noreply@blogger.com (Kate) — Fri, 04 May 2012 14:16:00 +0000

Screenshot: Good Morning America

I've been following this story with more than a little skepticism. Here's a mom who's accused of tanning her daughter, based on the daughter's statement that she went to the tanning salon with her mother. Both the mother and the salon employees deny that the daughter was in the actual tanning booths, but had accompanied her mother to the salon.

Yet the mom is under investigation.

If you look at the little girl, she shows no sign of tanning. No one involved has said that the little girl had been tanning.

This is all about the mom. In fact, as the facts in the case come out, more and more focus has come on the mom and her possible problems than the child.

If "tanning mom" weren't so unusual in her appearance and behavior, would this have ever been an issue?

There's little doubt that Patricia Krentcil feels that tan is beautiful. Her very light lipstick provides even more contrast with her heavily tanned face. But there's something I've noticed about this whole thing: even her appearance may not be what it seems.

Here's Patricia's mug shot:

Here we see what some would consider normal coloration in her face, except for the severe liner around her lips.

That's a great deal different than this photo:

So I have to wonder, is this woman's tanning obsession fulfilled not just with tanning, but makeup as well? There's a limit to how much melanin the body produces. This to me seems to be a pretty unlikely result of tanning.

And I have to wonder, if we were to have seen the mug shot first, would there have been this rush to judgement about whether or not this mom had exposed her child to a tanning bed, whether or not she's a fit mother, or even question her sanity in public media?

This woman admits she has a tanning obsession. I know people who do, and it's more a function of our exposure to certain media messages that tan is beautiful than some sort of debilitating or dangerous mental condition. But if you search the web for photos of Patricia, you'll see a selection of photos like the one immediately above... photos that should invite skepticism rather than the kind of universal loathing that this woman has inspired as a result of the media coverage.

On the Today Show this morning, Snooki is weighing in on all this, and has stated that she thinks "tanning mom" is crazy. Snooki's own tan is pretty substantial, but the difference is she's an A-lister, and her tanning is considered humorous and quirky rather than dangerous and unstable.

But after looking at images of Snooki, I don't wonder where Patricia got her look:

Photo: HollywoodGossip.com

And of course, while he's been ridiculed, I don't recall any accusations relating to the sanity of famed tan celebrity George Hamilton:

So what is Patricia Krentcil really guilty of? Possibly being a little "off", and tanning excessively while not celebrity.

You Have No Idea

noreply@blogger.com (Kate) — Thu, 03 May 2012 14:02:00 +0000

I recently read Venessa William's new book, You Have No Idea, for BlogHer Book Club. I was less than impressed. It's rather difficult to write a review, because anything of interest, anything you can't read in a filmography or Wikipedia was summarized in the article on E!Online's website on April 17th (the day of the release of the book). The title of the article: Vanessa Williams' Latest Bombshell: Besides Childhood Molestation, She Had Teenage Abortion was much more spectacular and gut wrenching than the events as portrayed in the book, which Vanessa barely touched upon.

Despite the potential for deep emotional connections and the pain implied by the headlines, Venessa's voice in the book is strangely flat. I had the impression she was simply reciting a rough timeline in her life: at this point I was married. At this point I had this role. At this point I was turned down for that role. There was no insight, just a toneless recitation of the the events that have been covered ad nauseam in the media.

The only redeeming point in the book is Helen's voice. Except for a passing mention of her midnight visit by an older girl on a family vacation, and another passing mention of the abortion, we see nothing of Vanessa that we haven't seen in the newspapers. But Helen... Helen is a different story. Helen's story, growing up in Buffalo with what may or may not be her relatives after being taken from her mother is only hinted at, but is filled with more passion and interest than the very public life of her daughter.

Helen's story leaves you wanting more. Vanessa's story just puts you to sleep.

I remember Vanessa being crowned. I remember the flack over a black Miss America... and it's not terribly different than the flack over a black president: Questions over whether it's "right" to have a black person as a role model... questions over whether they're "black enough"... catching hell from all races for not being "enough" of something. I myself, back in the day fell into that same trap, I'm ashamed to say. I fell on the side of wishing that the first black Miss America was more racially distinct... that there were no question of her "blackness", because I felt very strongly that Miss America should not have to adhere to a caucasian standard of beauty, and that ethnicity (in all it's forms) is beautiful. Now, looking back, I realize that one of those forms is mulatto, and I should have been more accepting.

Vanessa's story is peppered with that conflict, and that's another topic I think would have been interesting to explore more deeply, but was left as an undertone rather than theme in the book.

All in all the book misses the mark. As far as Vanessa Williams is concerned, we still have no idea.

Quashing the Youth Vote

noreply@blogger.com (Kate) — Wed, 02 May 2012 12:13:00 +0000

Here in New Mexico, you need a state ID for just about everything. It's the only photo ID you can use to cash a check. You need to show it to vote. And it's damned hard for a young person to get an ID.

Most of the day yesterday was spent trying to get my daughters their state IDs. Used to be you go in with your birth certificate, social security card, and two official pieces of mail which showed your address and that was that. Now there's a list of specific documents they want to establish residency. The first problem we ran up against was our New York State birth certificates. The first DMV we went to looked at the certificate, the stamp, and the embossment, and said "This doesn't say where it's from" (it says New York State across the top in big letters) Then the manager said "There's no stamp, it has to be certified" The stamp takes up about 1/4 of the document, it's a huge stamp at the top with a signature. Then he said "I don't know this is official" I pointed out the embossment, which, after 18 years, he felt was too worn down to see. After showing it to a number of different people, all of whom agreed that they could see the embossment, then photographing the embossment incase I want to file a formal complaint, we just went to another DMV.

There the birth certificates were no problem (at this point I need to point out that we had two other certified and embossed proofs of identity from New York as well) and the problem... the BIG problem, was proof of address.

Because the list of "acceptable documents" is limited to things young people who still live at home are unlikely to have: One was a utility bill. Another was a bank statement (in New Mexico at least, you can't have your own bank account until you're 18, and you need a state ID to open the bank account you need the statement for in order to get a state ID). You can get a document from a state, city or federal or community agency stating your address, but that's limited. They won't use a social security letter. They won't use your voter ID card. They will take a handwritten letter on a church letter-head. They will not take a City Housing Voucher. They will not take a bill from a state college (they will from the power company), a photo ID from their current high school (showing both a photo and the address).

The list of acceptable documents includes your State Medicaid ID, but the top of the list says that any document must show address, and State Medicaid IDs do not show your address. So even though they're listed as acceptable documents, they are not accepted.

The young woman who I was working with told me I should have put the utilities in the kids' names (which is, to the best of my knowledge illegal, and falls under the category of identity theft). A call to PNM verified that, even now that the girls are adults, they couldn't even be ADDED to the PNM bill, because the account is issued to ONE PERSON.

In the long run, we ended up getting "secondary IDs"... those that are not acceptable in many locations to cash checks and so on... second class citizen IDs, that required only one of the address document demands: our lease and an attached letter from our apartment manager stating that the lease is month to month after the year the lease requirements were fulfilled, and that we are still residents.

So in this time when the economy is poor, and more and more kids are living at home, how do 18 year olds... newly eligible to vote... get their ID required to vote?

Apparently the only way to get around it is to get the ID before they're 18, where a parent signature on a handwritten note stating that the kids still live with them is sufficient. In other words, if I'd gone in a week ago with the kids, they'd have official state IDs. Because a week ago my signature saying that they were living at home would be better than voter IDs, letters from the state, letters from the federal government, and city school issued photo IDs.

Because a week ago, the girls weren't voting age.

Now it's ironic that on the way home we should run into canvassers on the street corner from the ACLU, who wanted to talk to us (and anyone who passed) about voter ID laws and were fundraising for the ACLU to tackle this issue. We were pretty much broke, but Cay was fired up enough that she asked about working the cause, and left with a phone number and a name.

People worry about voter fraud. They worry about the small number of votes from dead people, dogs, and Mickey Mouse. They should worry about the large number of youth who are being denied their vote because of these laws. They complain that young people don't vote. Maybe we just learned a little about the "why".

Changs is good... unless you're autistic, then it's just terrifying.

noreply@blogger.com (Kate) — Sun, 29 Apr 2012 13:54:00 +0000

Yesterday I posted photos of the girls in their prom pictures. In them, Tay is smiling. Her eyes are dancing, and there's a trace of humor in the curve of her lips. I'd told her to think of "My Little Ponies". Not 30 minutes before that, she was windmilling, whining, and lifting chairs to drop them, something she does when she's really upset.

"I don't want to go to prom!" she wailed, "But I HAVE to!"

"No you don't," I said. "It's your choice."

"You already bought the tickets, I can't waste the $20!"

"I'll give the ticket to Cay, she can get a friend in free."

"IT DOESN'T WORK THAT WAY! I HAVE TO GO!"

Well, I know her well enough to know if she doesn't take the out offered, she really does want to go, but is just frightened. Sure enough, in a few moments, she was on to something new.

"I DON'T WANT TO MOVE TO FLORIDA! FLORIDA IS STUPID!"

"I wish I were going to Florida," I replied. "You'll get to see Puck (her cat) and you'll get to hang with Ellen and Carlos..."

"It's going to be BORING!"

It wasn't about Florida. It wasn't about the prom. It wasn't (exactly) about her birthday. It was about growing up, moving out, and being her own woman.

It's hard on any young person... it's harder when you're autistic.

I pulled up some old photos of our life in California with Ellen and Carlos. I pulled up some old photos of the girls in Florida when we lived there. Soon she was excited and laughing again. "Remember when...?" "Whatever happened to...?" When the time came, she quickly showered, had her hair dried, and got into her gown.

Tay dubbed her prom night "the best night ever!"

I'm not saying that she's over all the stress that comes with realizing that high school is over, she's an adult, and she'll be leaving mom and her twin for a new life. I'm just saying that after yesterday, the way she pulled herself together with a little prompting, makes me confident that she'll be able to handle this all as it unfolds over the next three weeks.

Young Adults

noreply@blogger.com (Kate) — Sun, 29 Apr 2012 01:10:00 +0000

Today they turned 18. Tonight they're off to the prom. In just a few weeks, they'll be graduating high school, heading off to college, and starting their adult life.

Today I'm looking at this picture, celebrating how far they've come... celebrating two beautiful young women entering their adult lives filled with hope and excitement. They're dancing, celebrating their birthday, their friendships, their high school life, and the life before them. I'm here, but my heart is also dancing, knowing that they've found their feet, and that their feet are on the right path to their futures.

What Lies Beyond Death?

noreply@blogger.com (Kate) — Fri, 27 Apr 2012 21:16:00 +0000

the day my daughter became an atheist

Back when we lived in Florida, we lived behind one of those charismatic, non-denominational churches. My kids loved to go to church school, loved to be part of the group, and while I found myself dealing with my own lack of faith, I certainly didn't discourage it in my children.

The girls were active in their church groups, had parts in the church Christmas play, and were generally pretty excited about their Christianity.

Then one day, just a few months after this picture was taken, the girls were sitting on the front porch when the next door neighbors on either side let their dogs out to play with each other, and a car came roaring around the circle we lived on at high speed.

The girls were horrified to see the smaller dog get hit. The owner, a single woman with very little in this world, ran out and cradled the dog in her arms as he died.

Cay was devastated. She cried and cried, then finally said to me, "Mom, is Bear in Heaven?"

I told her that certainly Lori (the next door neighbor) believed that Bear was waiting for her in Heaven, and that she would not be happy in Heaven without Bear, so he MUST be there if you believe in Heaven. (Yes, I was dancing around it, not wanting to tell her "no" outright while she was so distraught)

She cried some more. Then she said, "The church teaches us that animals don't have souls, so I don't think Bear is in Heaven."

I didn't say anything right away, then told her some people believe in reincarnation, some in animal heavens, and some people have other thoughts about death, but that none of it was proven, that it was all a matter of faith.

"What do you think?" she asked.

So I told her.

I told her that Bear is dead and gone, and that his body, and other bodies of the dead, are part of the Earth. That when things die other things eat them, break them down, and the earth reuses them. That the atoms or molecules that made up Bear's body may someday be part of a tree, or a dolphin, or a flower. That everything is part of everything else in a physical sense, and that nothing on the planet is truly gone, although it's no longer recognizable to us. That Bear is gone, but that all that he was will be part of the Earth, as are people, and worms, and trees, and anything else that exists here.

And she stopped crying, and smiled.

"I like that." She said...

and never went back to church.