We wear pink

Today, we wore pink. My kids and I. We all wore pink. Today is an especially meaningful day for my family. For you see, my son, was the target of harsh bullying. He suffered everything from text messages indicating he was going to be hunted down and killed, to name calling, to erasers pegged at his head, to his clothes thrown in the toilet, glasses stolen and the worst of it all: caught in the circle. What's the circle? Well it is when the victim is put in the middle of a circle while the kids stand shoulder to shoulder, encircling him and taking turns to beat on him.

That was my son's experience. It was done repeatedly before it was seen. Why didn't he speak up you ask? Because when you are a victim of bullying you are continually haunted but the silent threatener. You know the one of whom I speak. That threat that looms over head, dodges your every step, haunts your back and filters every word form your mouth. The threat of "if you say a word, what you will then experience is ten times what you have already experienced."

It was finally seen and a stop put to it. During the bullying and during the aftermath, my son seriously began contemplating suicide. For his take home message was: "I am worth shit" so in his mind that led to "why live?" We have worked very hard on stabilization for him and have come huge leaps and bounds ahead. The bullying has stopped. In fact, it stopped 3 years ago. But the aftermath still lives on. I didn't lose my son to suicide as a result of being bullied. Other parents have not been so fortunate. But that experience still haunts us?

How, how can it still haunt us? It was three years ago. My son should just move on, right? Unfortunately it is not that easy. For you see, he still, three years later, daily struggles with his worth. His bullying experience left such a huge imprint on him, that he still wonders as to what his value is.

I saw this flash mob. It has been going around the internet. Perhaps you have seen it. If you have, please watch again. If you haven't, please watch. As you watch, please listen to the lyrics. Everytime I hear this song, I cry. I cry for how it effectively communicates why bullying must stop. I hope and pray that after you read this: you will stop, watch and listen. To what is going on around you in your world. Is there a parent, telling their child that they are an idiot, stupid, lazy or fat? Are you witness to schoolyard teasing? If so, I beg of you to stop and intervene. So that one parent, may not have to lose one more child.

Be Blessed.
K

My Beloved Son

Moon over Manhattan

ok.......maybe not Manhattan............maybe Vancouver......

I was driving home today from a long day at two jobs. As I was doing so, the moon was breaking over the horizon. It was beautiful! It was low to the horizon, and as such it carried a yellow tinge. Not the harvest moon orange, but a definitive yellow. And it reminded me of a light bulb. Not the new style of energy saving florescent  bulb, but the old yellowish bulb. As I drove and stared at the beauty, it occurred to me, with all man's capability, we cannot begin to create something as glorious as God has. Yes we have light, but our meagre comparisons cannot begin to touch the glory that is God's created light. The moon carried a glory to it tonight, I was not the only one who saw that. And even though we can create a source of light, it lacks that quintessential glory. There is an intangible quality to it.

These thoughts drew me back to my sessions today and how there is that same intangible quality to each and everyone of us. It is very easy to think we are all the same, we are all people after all. We all cry wet tears, we all bleed red blood. We are, after all, all human. And so begins the comparison game. We are all human but he has this quality and she has that one. What sets me apart? What makes me different. After all, she can do this better and he can do that.

Trust me, I have been there and often visit that miry swamp. And it shakes me to the core because the things that I have dreamed of being or becoming simply have not happened.

The topic of nurturance came up for me recently. I was asked the question, how do you like to be nurtured. I could not answer that. Why? Because, as a child, I was not nurtured. I was a) left to nurture myself, and b) obligated to nurture those around me, including my parents. I have been doing that for as long as I can remember. And in doing so, I lost me. Somewhere along the line, I lost, maybe never knew or found me. I had to get external sources to tell me who I am. Take off my various hats, and I am identity less. I do not know.

And tonight I saw the moon, and I saw the glory that exists in the moon. The same glory that exists in the moon, that man cannot replicate, exists in each of us, God's creation. Just as He infused glory into the sun, stars and moon that makes each of us look on with a sense of awe, exists in each of us.

He placed the same glory in each of us, that same unreplicable glory. When was the last time that you looked at the person next to you, with a sense of awe as to who they are? I know for me, there are a number of people that for various reasons make me stop short. Some are my clients who despite having every reason to hate the world and everyone in it, choose to live their lives out of a place of empathy and compassion,

........And some I am fortunate enough to call my friends.

Descriptive paragraph-an exercise in writing

The room sat at a comfortable temperature, yet an eerie chill hung in the air. It was the type of chill that gripped at the deepest, marrow of your bones, one you could not escape or recover from. Although a mundane situation, it was a grisly scene that viscerally attacked one’s core. A quick scan revealed nothing abnormal; simply an operating room filled with standard medical equipment. A steel gurney stood in the center of the room, draped by a crisp cotton sheet. To the left sat a silver cart with each medical instrument carefully placed on top. A bowl filled with water sat beside the instruments. Despite the room temperature sitting at a comfortable 18 degrees, a thin sheet of ice began to creep over the water’s surface. At the head of the gurney he stood, simply preparing for his nightly routine. He snapped on his gloves, adjusted his goggles and set to work. Standard fluorescent lights lit the room, but the overwhelming intensity was so powerful it seared the images onto the retinas. Sheer blinking could not dislodge these permanent etchings. The surgical room was encased by stark medically white walls. The pairing of the white lights and white walls highlighted the ghoulish glint of the surgical steel instruments, invoking a gruesome beauty into the room.

                 Ignoring the deafening buzz of the fluorescent lights, he worked on in silent solitude. He picked up a scalpel and as the stinging point kissed the thin veneer of sunken flesh the caustic ripping of sinews exploded throughout the room. The shrill screech of metal on metal as he put his instruments down molested the eardrums. Reaching into the corpse for the organs of the deceased, a nauseating slurping tickled one’s eardrums.

                As if to mock of the morbidity of the scene, the sterile scent of antiseptic echoed the white desolate walls. The powdery stale odour of rubber hung at the edges. Shadowing the cutting of flesh, the putrid stench of rancid carcass permeated the rectangular confines of the room and assaulted the very crux of one’s being.

In this ghastly death scene the presence of a lone shadowy apparition hovered over the soulless corpse. Not seen, felt, nor heard, his demanding presence was simply known as he sought for his final legacy.

With one final breath, the surgeon respectfully stitched together the cadaver. Positioning the body for the last dressing, he stepped toward the door. He quickly flicked off the lights, and opened the door to leave. Halting mid-step, he turned, as if beckoned by some invisible presence desiring his last farewell. 

Justice and my fight for it!

So, if you know me, I have this thing for justice and ensuring it occurs. I believe this is largely due to the fact that my own life carried so little of it and I often fell prey to the hands of injustice. And as such it annoys me, irritates me and infuriates me. And it isn't simply my own injustices, it is many that I hear about. I think of one dear friend whose entire family is struggling to cope with injustice at the hands of our medical system. However,  due to their confidentiality, I will not disclose who they are.

Rather, I speak of my own injustice. I guess this came to a forefront, back in August of 2011 when I was refused a rental house due to family status. Essentially what that means, is that they told me, after they had assured me that I was first in line and likely to get the house, that they rented the house to someone that DID NOT have children. Yes, you read that right. DID NOT have children.

So at that point, I acted. I was granted both a radio interview and a television interview. While on the radio, I met an individual from the Human Rights Clinic who encouraged me to file a complaint with the Human Rights Tribunal. This is essentially the same as a court proceeding.

The second injustice I encountered was with my current rental and their refusal to bring the rental up to liveable standards, of which I have since done myself, hoping to recoup the cost.

The third injustice was during the end of last year when a miscommunication happened between student loans and myself. Despite many phone communications, student loans chose to start debiting my account collecting money and then pinning me for interest after I stopped payment. Well, being a single mom, barely enough to pay bills, feed and clothe my children 650.00 coming out of my account certainly was not what I needed. And in fact, that was money I had set aside for Christmas. As you can well imagine, Christmas proved to be very difficult.

Well I don't tend to take things sitting down. I filed the Human Rights Tribunal case. Today I found out that my complaint has been screened and accepted. GOOD NEWS!!!! What does this mean? Well,  potentially I get an advocate (I am applying for one as we speak) who will represent me and fight for my case. The nuts and bolts of what that means is, I can be awarded monetary recompense for damages, as well as the difference in current rent and what would have been my rent for the period of the lease which in this case was a year.

Current rent, well that didn't amount to much except a token amount for the cost of paint.

Student loans: Well after numerous phone calls and speaking to managers and supervisors who would not listen to me, I phoned my MP's office. Today, they got back to me. My MP has called NSLC and they have returned the debited amount to my account as well as waived the accumulated interest.

I am also in contact with my MLA who will be ensuring that the same occurs with my BC student loans.

Why do I write all this? Well, I have been intensely criticized for my desire to see justice done. I have been lectured, I have had support withdrawn and I have been told that I need to smarten up and grow up and swallow the injustices. I sought a new place to rent, in order to provide a safer living environment for my children. I was told at that point to suck it up and swallow it and live in a shithole because by becoming a single mom, this is what I brought to my children. And this from family.

So I guess I write this to say/show that despite all that, justice can prevail. If done with a right heart, God will honor that and bring justice. It wasn't easy by no means an easy road, especially then to be lectured (when my family lectures that really means a derogatory yell fest). But I stayed true to what I thought was right and so far, justice appears to being served.