Well, Hello 2020 (a coronavirus rant)

2020.

It’s been a year, hasn’t it?!

As we settle into our new reality, one that the donald gaslights now and again (and again), I find myself trying to absorb it all, not just as my husband, children, grandbaby and I experience this, but from a bigger picture kind of viewpoint.

I have loads of opinions.

How are we (Americans) SO incredibly ignorant that we are blaming Asian individuals for this pandemic?!  I’d like to say that it’s especially stupid because most of the people getting attacked by white Americans are also American, but blaming any one people group for something like this is ludicrous.  Even if an individual from any people group has been proven to intentionally try to infect others with something deadly, why in the world are we aiming hatred toward an entire group?!  Also, these racists are so blinded by ignorant hate, that they are targeting anyone who is Asian, not simply Chinese.  At least during 9/11, Bush advised the country to be better and treat fellow American Muslims with respect, but now we’ve got the donald who continually refers to the Coronavirus as the Chinese virus, spurring on increased hatred toward our fellow Americans of Chinese decent.  We need to do SO MUCH better.

I’m TIRED of peeps in their 20’s, give or take, being reckless because they believe they are untouchable, while (ONE) they aren’t, (TWO) they can harm others, and (THREE) they are just setting a selfish, ridiculous example for other human beings on how we should care for one another.

Money is NEVER more important than human lives, and just because you have buckets full of it and the ability to get the best medical care does not mean you get a pass on insinuating you are some kind of freakish hero because you claim you are willing to risk catching covid-19 so that your heirs can have a wealthier future.  The fact that you have the luxury to be concerned about your “heirs,” while the people you represent aren’t sure if they can pay their mortgage next month is your sign.

This bailout situation is driving me a bit batty.  Why are we more concerned with bailing out big businesses before the average American?  The general attitude seems to be that the average person should be ashamed for not having 6 months of wages saved away, but somehow we are panickedly trying to save big corporations who haven’t put away enough to make it through the month – except their shareholders all seem to be living their best lives, still.

Toilet Paper?  Need I say more?  ALL OF THE FOOD and everything else in EVERY grocery store around the country?  It feels a little bit apocalypse-y, right?  Leave some for your neighbor.  Be kind.  It’s so much better than being greedy.

Homeless people, elderly people, immunocompromised people.

Those babies in cages, still.  The adults in cages, still.

A “president” that holds back help because his ego isn’t stroked enough.

Our exhausted, dedicated healthcare workers.  Pray for them, send them notes of encouragement, support them and be thankful for all they are doing and enduring during this tremendous crisis.

Churches and bars that continue to open their doors and invite people to risk their lives.

Did the owner of HL really treat his thousands of employees like that and try to blame the Holy Spirit?!

It’s been a year.

I pray we get still before Our Pappa God and hear what He is calling us to.  I pray we find a way to be kind to one another, to love one another as He would have us do.  I pray we come out of this so much more faithful, loving and relaxed than we’ve ever been.  Let’s not waste this time we’ve been given.

#TimesUp #MeToo

Sexual Abuse Lindy West quote

I feel like we’re living in history making days.  Things are shifting.  Big things.  Terribly uncomfortable, but incredibly necessary things. The #MeToo and #TimesUp movements have brought much to light for many in our country.  There’s a feeling of our entire country being overwhelmed by the enormity of it all, while too many are still trying to shift the blame back to the victims.  I’ve spent a bunch of time processing my experiences and feelings as someone who has also suffered sexual abuse on more than one occasion.

I recently shared in a post about the first time I was abused by an older neighborhood boy, but that wasn’t the last time.  There was the time a family member repeatedly came in while I was bathing (age 8 or 9) and touched me inappropriately.  I knew it was icky, but until years later when a friend shared about the incestuous relationship between her father and sister, I couldn’t give the incident context.  There was the man who graduated a decade before my friend and I who would drive down our country road and slow down to expose himself to us when we were in elementary school walking to meet each other for playdates.  There was a time an older boy from the middle school showed up at my elementary school and pinned me up against a wall, while telling me how pretty I was and attempting to unzip my blue jeans with my Tony the Tiger iron-on on my knee before I pretended someone was walking in behind him and ran away as he was distracted.  There was the time I was babysitting for three families – two of the dads were brothers – and one of the men showed up just after I had gotten the kids to bed and became quite sexually aggressive.  He was laying on top of me on the couch, I scrambled for the phone and pretended to dial a number, threatening to call his wife.  He watched me dial the phone, accusing me of not knowing her number.  In our town at that time, EVERYONE’s numbers began with 266-4.  He wasn’t incredibly intelligent and left quickly as I dialed the 4, saying something about this not being finished as he walked out the door.  I can still feel the relief wash over me as I fell against the wall next to the phone.  I called no one, not my mother, not a friend.  I gathered myself and began to clean the kitchen up.  A couple of hours later his inebriated brother showed up and scolded me for not being ‘nice” to his brother during his earlier visit.  I was 11 or 12 years old.  I continued to babysit for these families for years.  I would invite a friend or keep the children in close proximity, often having one sleep on the couch in the living room.  In all honesty, there were very few families that I babysat for that I didn’t have to deal with an overattentive “father.”   It was commonplace for my girl friends and I to talk about this happening to nearly everyone.  We would warn each other about the really bad ones.  There were also teachers who were inappropriate in middle school and high school.  Again, we discussed which teachers to avoid being alone with or getting too close to in proximity for fear they would “unintentionally” brush up against us or touch us inappropriately.  These conversations were often laced with giggles as we tried to minimize the fear we felt in the normalized sexual abuse culture we were growing up in.

I recall talking about this with my girl friends in front of boys and their comments would generally insinuate that we should take it as a compliment because grown men shouldn’t be expected to have self-control around those they considered attractive teenage girls.  And, if I’m honest, I believe most of us bought into that theory.  On some level I know I felt some confirmation that I was attractive if men showed interest in me, even if it was perverted and/or abusive.  I also believed that it must be my fault because every time a girl or woman spoke out about sexual abuse, I watched the adults in my life, as well as my peers, find a way to blame the victim or convince themselves that she was lying – that it never really happened or if it did, she wanted it to.

At a football game at the beginning of my senior year of high school, some friends and I were drinking.  I remember running into a much older friend of my brother’s.  He told me he would give me and my friend a ride to a party after the game.  We were drinking alcohol before going to the game and I was tipsy, but not drunk.  He gave me something to drink on the way to the party.  I don’t remember much after a vague memory of an outdoor party with loud music and then getting into his vehicle.  I don’t remember getting home.  I know I woke up in the morning with bruises on both of my inner thighs and what appeared to be semen on my pubic area.  Every time I saw that man over the next several years, he treated me as if he was disgusted with me.  When I finally shared this story with a friend who knew that man, she became very uncomfortable and told me that I couldn’t really know what happened, especially since I had been so drunk and may have even encouraged him.  She then made it clear that she was done talking about it.  I walked away from that conversation wondering if I had wanted something to happen with that man or at the very least wondering if I deserved it.  I have never blacked out in my life except for that night.  I often wonder if he put something in my drink.  I wonder a lot of things, but the truth is, I’ll never know what happened that night.

I remember as an adult being violently knocked around for hours in my home, kicked, shoved and slapped, and then raped by a man I was in a relationship with, as I tried to break things off with him.  When he left that afternoon I showered and got dressed before going to a family gathering.  I choked on my sobs during my shower, but I didn’t allow myself to cry because I was afraid he would return, hear me and continue his violent attack.  I focused on behaving normally during the gathering, numbing myself to what had happened earlier that day.  Because my family didn’t want me to date this person, I never told them about what actually happened that day.  He stalked me at my college, getting my class schedule somehow. I changed my number twice because he got the first number change and kept calling me to let me know it wasn’t over. A month or so later, he showed up at my house late at night, watching me through the glass door I had just walked through, arms full of groceries and I had sex with him because I was terrified he would kill me.  I was all alone and I didn’t know any other way to get him to leave.  I remember telling him I loved him as he left to insure he would keep walking out the door.  Later when I shared it in a detached way with my boyfriend (now, husband), his initial reaction was to blame me for not fighting harder and to accuse me of wanting to have sex with my rapist.  I was filled with shame for a long time about the choices I made because I didn’t understand them and I loathed myself for being weak and trampy. 

I think the thing that keeps blowing my mind about this is that women aren’t really shocked about any of this.  We’ve been sharing stories with each other, sometimes supporting one another, sometimes blaming one another, since the beginning of time.  The reality is, it is a rare (and extremely blessed) girl over the age of 8 that hasn’t been sexually abused in some manner.  It’s even less rare to find an adult woman who hasn’t been sexually abused by more than one person in her life.  

Think about that for a moment.  In a recent poll they found that over 80% of women have been sexually harassed or assaulted.  There is also evidence that women will often block memories out of their minds or minimize it if they weren’t forcibly raped by a stranger, blaming themselves on some level if they knew the abuser and not acknowledging abuse less than full-on rape.  I know that just a few years ago I would’ve said I was never really sexually abused because I always knew my abusers.  The few times I shared my stories with others I was usually filled with shame.  It wasn’t unusual for the listener to question what I was wearing at the time, what I said or did, or to ask why I didn’t do something else, especially if the listener was a man and/or a christian.

We wonder why women don’t speak out.  

I wonder why we don’t see that victimized women, by and large, don’t think they are worth fighting for in these situations, until others are possibly in harm’s way.  Then, when they courageously speak up, we make them reopen their deep wounds while we coldly inspect them with doubt and judgement only to usually find a way to blame them or disbelieve them.

We wonder why victims don’t speak out.

Several of my abusers were family members, close friends, bosses, and teachers.  I should have, as a young and very innocent girl, been able to trust these authority figures, these loved ones.  I should’ve felt safe.  Instead I felt like my discomfort wasn’t important enough to disrupt the “peace.”  I didn’t believe I would be believed.  I believed people would think I was to blame.

I didn’t feel safe at home, at school, at some friends’, at my babysitting jobs.  Why would I speak out?  Who would I have trusted?

Of all of the men I’ve told you about only the flashing car driver ever got in any trouble for what he’d done.  One of them became an attorney.  One of them was serving on a school board, last I knew.  Both of these men were known for their sexual deviance in that little village, students even joked about it.  The adults never did anything about it because we have a “boys will be boys” mentality in this country.  We hush and shame anyone who tries to bring it out into the light, so that the people in power get to stay in power.

Although I say women aren’t surprised because the vast majority of us have endured sexual abuse, from threats to violent attacks, I have to admit I haven’t often shared the abuse I’ve gone through because I believed something must be extra wrong with me because it’s happened so many times.  In recent months as I’ve had conversations with other women of varied ages, ethnicities and socioeconomic backgrounds, I’ve come to realize that not only is the frequency of times I’ve been abused or harassed not excessive in comparison to the women I’ve spoken with, but the degree to which I’ve experienced abuse and harassment is less than almost all of the women who have shared their stories with me.

While I haven’t enjoyed that the incredibly painful abuse of too many women has stirred up memories I’d rather pretend to forget, I am entirely indebted to the amazingly courageous women who have chosen to lay bare their deep and horrific wounds to an audience that has a less-than-shiny track record, at the risk of everything:  their jobs, their income, their reputations, their families, and at times their sanity.  They have jeopardized everything so that we can finally begin to purge this evil from our society.  It’s way past time to speak openly, even when it makes us uncomfortable (like when I typed semen up there) because bringing this scourge up from the depths of darkness and exposing the numerous layers of accomplice for how awful and harmful it is may be the only path to beginning a different way, the way I pray my daughter and  granddaughters can walk fully in – the way I pray my sons and grandsons can walk fully in.  

We have to look this misogynistic way of living full in the face, with all of its discomfort, own our part in the ugliness of the perverted abuse dance and then stand for and live in what is right.  Begin by understanding that ALL people, women as well as men, people of color as well as white people, are truly EQUAL.  When we begin to listen to women and people of color as equals, while believing their stories, the entire everything will shift in the most glorious way. 

It’s past time

  • to believe victims and stop blaming them
  • to empower women and people of color
  • to reject our “boys will be boys” acceptance of abusive, predatory behavior
  • to hold abuser accountable
  • to make this a safe place to hear the truth and change our destructive pattern

I don’t want to wonder why.  I want to be a part of a community and culture that holds ourselves to a standard of respect, love and humanity.  Women shouldn’t have to dress a certain way, lest men can’t help but violate them.  Victims shouldn’t alone bear the burden of proof in a culture that shames us for stirring the pot when we accuse our aggressors. This way isn’t working.  Sexual sin can’t just keep being covered up.  The rug isn’t that big.  God isn’t that complacent.  He loves us too much to turn a blind eye for very long.  It’s time for His children to take their just punishment and turn away from this too common debauchery. It’s time for the church to stop dressing up the misogyny of white men in an expensive suit holding a Bible, and downplaying the abuse of the women and children whom Jesus calls to be honored as His beloved.

Ephesians 5:1 Be imitators of God in everything you do, for then you will represent your Father as his beloved sons and daughters. And continue to walk surrendered to the extravagant love of Christ, for he surrendered his life as a sacrifice for us. His great love for us was pleasing to God, like an aroma of adoration—a sweet healing fragrance.  And have nothing to do with sexual immorality, lust, or greed—for you are his holy ones and let no one be able to accuse you of them in any form.

It’s WAY past time, isn’t it?

#TimesUp

#BelieveSurvivors

 

Perfect Paleo Banana Walnut Muffins

I have been trying to make truly yummy gluten free banana walnut muffins for YEARS!  It seems like each time I try a recipe online, it is way too wet, way too dry or lacks flavor.  I recently signed up to make treats for  The Big Bake Sale for Social Justice – Border Families (https://www.facebook.com/bigbakesale/).  For the past couple of days people have been posting pictures of their edible works of art.  Kind of intimidating, but I’ve just decided that those of us who aren’t profesh, should focus on the “why” and then do our best.  I believe that in doing this, everyone will be blessed.  I decided to do something gluten free (GF).  That way they’d look popular and sell quickly based on need/dietary demands, alone!  HA!

So, after researching a bunch of previously visited recipes, I decided to try trusting my instincts and experience to make a better muffin.  I have to tell you, these are the best GF Banana Nut Muffins I’ve ever had and my family agrees.  My Honey even told me that he can’t tell they’re GF – which is a pretty good compliment from him!

I use all organic ingredients, except the salt, baking soda & baking powder, which aren’t available that way, as far as I know.  I only use baking powder that is aluminum-free.  I don’t add any sweetener, because the bananas are plenty sweet enough, imo, and I’m trying to eat a keto-alkaline diet, so I very rarely use any additional sweetener when I bake, etc.

You’ll need a food processor, measuring cups and spoons (unless you like to eyeball it, like me), a spatula, muffin pans and coconut oil to grease the muffin pan.  I use a mini-muffin pan that has 24 pods in it and my recipe fills it up perfectly, with no extra and no lack.  Fill the muffin pods up to the top and just a smidge more to have perfectly shaped muffins.

Recipe:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Grease all of the pods completely in your muffin pan, bottom and all sides.  DO NOT use paper liners. Too much of your muffin will stick to the paper and you won’t get to eat almost 1/2 of your muffin.  Trust me on this, just grease these babies really well.  Set aside until you fill them with batter.

Combine in the food processor, the bananas, eggs, vanilla extract, coconut oil & monk fruit and pulse just until it’s all mixed together.

3 ripe bananas 

2 eggs

1 tablespoon vanilla extract

1/3 cup coconut oil

1 teaspoon monk fruit or stevia (optional)

***                           ***                      ***

Then add the flours, the baking soda, cinnamon, baking powder, & salt and pulse until everything is combined well.

1 3/4 cups almond flour (NOT almond meal!)

1/3 cup coconut flour

1 teaspoon baking soda

2 teaspoons Ceylon cinnamon

1 1/2 – 2 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 – 1 teaspoon celtic sea salt 

*Add 1/2 or pieces of walnut to top of batter.

Fill greased muffin pods with batter TO THE TOP.  Bake in oven for 11-14 minutes for mini-muffins, 17-20 minutes for regular muffins.  Checking for slight browning to indicate they are done, not much browning, as this will mean they’re overcooked, dry or burned.  Remove when done and let cool away from stove/oven/heated area for about 20 minutes before removing, using a dull butter knife to loosen sides when necessary.

Enjoy!  

Please comment below and tell me what you think once you’ve tried this recipe yourself!

banana walnut mini muffins

Monday Mullings

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I planned and executed (with the help of my precious and sneaky youngest 3) a marvelous surprise birthday party for my Honey this past Saturday.  He’s reasonably easy to be sneaky with because he’s very trusting.  I often tell him that if I were a woman of less integrity, I could get away with SO VERY MUCH…  He never even had a clue and seeing the look on his beautiful face when he walked through the door while 70+ of his favorite peeps screamed, “SURPRISE!!!!” was just about as perfect as it gets.

Yesterday I helped coordinate a women’s network luncheon at church and it went off without a hitch.  My friend, Tamera, spoke beautifully and the food was pure yumminess from La Madeline.  I watched several women reach out and connect in such lovely ways. It was beautiful.

The past couple of weeks have been FULL of extra work days, extended insomnia, and loads of fun meetings with friends.  I recall noticing that my throat was a little scratchy last Thursday and I was fighting off a 3 day migraine along with it, but I just kept moving through, because there just wasn’t time to do much about it.  I had things to do, places to go, a husband to surprise!  So, yesterday, as soon as the luncheon was over and I walked through my front door, I realized I felt beat up.  My tickle turned into a croupy cough in less than an hour.  I was suddenly exhausted even though I had gotten 9 hours of sleep the night before.  So, I’ve been in bed for nearly an entire day.  My throat and chest feel worse, but I feel more centered and less beat up.  Sometimes, He slows us down in such inconvenient ways…

because, in my case, it’s the only way I will listen.

Some of the best things have happened in my family in recent months.  We are in such a great season.  An old friend of mine, who turned out not to be much of a friend at all, once shared this sage advice, sprinkled with a bit of profanity:  Enjoy the good times that you go through, because the %$&* times are coming!

I had spent way too much of what should have been joyful seasons, fretting about what was coming next or even believing on some level that if I enjoyed myself too much, God would punish me because I didn’t deserve to have joy.

Who does?!

So, the lesson He has been renewing in my life is to BE in this season of joy with my family.  Celebrate.  Give exuberant thanks.  Praise Him for this blessed season.  I know the junk is coming, as well as more beauty, and worrying about what’s next will do nothing to prevent anything bad from happening.  It will, however, steal the joy of this season.  I’m also a firm believer in praising Him in the dark times and I believe the joyful times fill me up in a way that makes it easier to walk through trials with faith.

Our world is crazy right now.  Two Black men were waiting for a third man to join them at Starbucks.  The barista called the police because they hadn’t ordered anything…  yet.  Several White patrons stated that the men were never asked to order or leave or even spoken to.  They also stated that the men had done nothing wrong.  The police arrested both men, taking them out in handcuffs, as the friend they were waiting for showed up. WHAT IN THIS CRAZY WORLD?!?!?!?!

I’ve gone to many coffee joints and seen multiple peeps on their computers for HOURS, never ordering anything OR ordering only a $1.50 cup of coffee.  I meet with friends regularly and wait for them before I get my chai or whatever.  I have NEVER in several decades of being white, been asked to leave, to order, or had the police called on me.  Never.

The sadder thing is that Starbucks had a similar incident in Redondo Beach just this morning.  You can watch it here:  starbucks-accused-racism-yet-new-video-surfaces .  Now, if I’m honest with you, I probably go to Starbucks twice a year.  I’m very much a “support local” kinda girl, but now I can assure you I won’t be going there at all.  We have to support the disenfranchised with our dollars.  It’s the most effective way to make your voice heard.

Lastly, there’s this Cohen-Hannity debacle. What in the world?!  As I begin to process this news, I have a few random thoughts…

It makes so much more sense now that Hannity has been almost obsessive in his support of Trump and his constant criticism of the FBI’s raid of Cohen’s files.  Those two know Hannity’s dirt.

I’m not sure why Cohen is called “the fixer” when he clearly is not.

If Cohen was “fixing” the same stuff for Hannity as he has for his only two other clients (Trump and Broidy), then that gives “Fox & Friends” a whole new meaning.

Hannity is claiming that he only told Cohen things as a friend.  So, why did Cohen keep files on his friend?  If it was just friendly conversation, there is no attorney-client privilege, correct?  Yet, Hannity says that there is.  Pick a side, Sean.

What a day!  

REVOLT

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                                                                                                                               -Tacitus

We look to our earthly fathers to tell us the truth of who we are.  This is what God calls on fathers to do, and when they don’t, as is too often the case, we are left empty and open to every lie that we are told.  We live in a culture that satan has chosen to attack in such a way.  An entire culture can be broken generation by generation through weakening the fathers.  I’ve witnessed this in my own upbringing by a man who scorned Jesus and gave into his own weak pride on the regular, regardless of how it hurt him, his children or his grandchildren. I wasted years tying my Heavenly Father’s loving hands behind His back, projecting my earthly father’s angry, disappointed face onto His.

I know very few people who honestly revere their fathers for genuine leadership and/or godliness.  I know some will read this and think I am seeking perfection.  I am looking for men who pursue God and His will for their lives with all they have because they took the time to experience an intimate relationship with Him and have some understanding of how great His love is for them.  These men will LEAD in HIS LOVE and that will change our culture generation by generation. 

Men who live like this will understand that women have a place beside them and that through this partnership, God will move mountains, change lives and heal our land.  There will be no place for degrading women in pornography, disparaging pay, sexual assault, etc.  There will be no place for racism.  With men and women truly after God’s heart will come the truth that we are all gloriously different, but equal; we will finally celebrate our differences and reparations will occur with a new humility born of seeing one another through His eyes.

The demand for pornography and other sexual immorality comes largely from broken men, who were most likely broken as young boys.  We need men who will stand against this sin by coming alongside their brothers who are afflicted with this addiction, and help them bring it out into the light, so that they can be healed, and, in turn, come alongside those who remain in this sinful addiction.

We need to stand shoulder to shoulder with one another in love against those who oppress others, standing up for women, people of color and those who struggle with physical and emotional constraints.  This is how we win as a people.  We love like Jesus and we stand against sin as He does, without compromise or distraction.

Until there are more men who operate out of their love of and from God instead of their fear of losing money and power, hidden behind a shield of false godliness, we will continue to disintegrate, until we finally are morally bankrupt beyond repair.  We must raise sons and daughters who fall into His arms and turn to Him in every circumstance.  Knowing the Word is so important, but getting quiet with Him, professing our adoration of Him, and cultivating an intimate relationship with Him is where hearts are transformed and real world change burgeons.

Do you know how much He adores you?  He waits for you and me, not just for an hour, or a day, or even just once.  He waits for us over and again, with outstretched arms and unending love.  He doesn’t turn away as we walk toward our sin.  He is in the room with us, heartbroken that we are not choosing life abundant, ready to fight for us, if only we would turn from the sin we are pursuing, once again.

Make a plan to invest in your relationship with Him daily.  Spend time pouring over His Word, full of rich wisdom, truth and love.  Get quiet before Him.  Cry out to Him.  Invest in getting to know Our Father intimately.  It’s the only way to start and win the Revolution.  The alternative is much too grim and coming too quickly.  It’s time for action.

Perspective

 

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If I protest the destruction of the rainforests, does that mean I want all of the other kinds of forests to be destroyed?

If I walk in the Susan B. Komen Race for the Cure, am I opposed to other forms of cancer being cured?  – Or am I just opposed to Democrats…

cancer-ribbon

Do all lives matter to the police equally?  Do the indictment records reflect this?

Where are all of these blue people?  Are they blue all of the time?  Do they choose to be blue or are they born that color?  Can they take their blue off – for a little while, at least? Or forever, if they choose?  What about the black people?  Are they born black or did they choose to be black?  Can they take their black off, for a little while, at least?

 

If my pastor is a known philanderer, brags about forcing himself on multiple women in a violent manner on the regular and has children from three different women, but tells his congregation that the offering is more than ever before and he is against abortion, should I continue to follow his leadership and defend him to anyone that speaks against him based on real biblical principles?  What if he wants to marry my daughter?  Should I give him my blessing?  What about if he mocks people who are physically or mentally challenged or people of color?  That’s not a big deal, right?  He’s not a bully or racist if he says he’s not, right?

Is the best way to defend him to bring up things our pastor from nearly 20 years ago did wrong?  Because I remember when I was a child, deflecting to something one of my siblings did wrong often distracted my parents from what I had done wrong, at least for a minute or two, until they realized how childish my behavior was and returned to the real issue at hand…

If a White Evangelical man and woman bring their sick child into the ER, does the lesbian or transgender nurse have the right to refuse care based on a difference of religious beliefs?  Say, the nurse believes that White Evangelical Christianity is a hate group based on recent behavior she’s experienced personally…  Should we force her to care for these people just because they’re human beings?!

Since I am a woman, is it okay for me to lie about the atrocious behavior of a white man and when a person of color questions me, can I just claim that he’s a bully because I have a v-jay-jay?  Can someone help me publicize an aggressive looking picture of the POC so that I can perpetuate the victim role of a white woman instead of owning the lies I’ve participated in and continue covering up the racist remarks of the real bully?  I mean, just because I’ve been placed in a leadership role over the entire country does NOT mean that a black person can question me about lying to the people of the country I represent.  I am a fragile white woman and shouldn’t be treated like other leaders who behave with complicity.

Right?

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During the past year (or so), I’ve experienced a regular feeling of living in the “upside down world.”  Things that I thought of as ludicrous and only existing in the past have reared their ugly heads in a very public and “normalized” fashion.  I’m beyond thankful for people such as Joy Reid, Kathy Khang, and Cory Booker for courageously calling out the folks who continuously try to take us down bunny trails.   I’m thankful that they unapologetically demand justice, equality and sanity reign.  Listening to them, and others like them, I find myself, saying, “THANK YOU!  Finally, someone is standing up to this lunacy.”

May we all have the courage to stand and speak before the damage is beyond repair.