The third and final post in the RAPE: Rise Against Punishable Eccentricity challenge to join the movement to raise our voices in the fight again Rape and Sexual Assault, as well as lift our voices in unison toward helping women feel empowered to take charge and take action.
I particularly love this one because it’s quintessential Susan (the Green Thumb Goddess). She can always pack a wallop in her poetry but I think she especially nailed this one. The seed planted here is powerful, visual, and easy to relate to.
I would also like to thank my daughter-in-law Lindsay for allowing me to use her beautiful face in this image. While she’s not a victim of sexual abuse…she absolutely ‘gets’ it!
A side note:
Women do not have to be victims of abuse to feel like and see that ‘stranger’ in the mirror…sometimes lost, sometimes less than, too often unrecognizable. Because I know that feeling all too well, not just as a survivor, but as a woman in general, there’s an added incentive to lead by example; to show that we must not be silent; we must not become part of the backdrop of someone else’s life; we must not lose sight of who and what we are…special, unique, and empowered to change the world by virtue of our voices, our minds, and not the least, raising our children.
We must step up and out of the supporting role and take the lead when we need to; show our sons and daughters that just because we plant and tend the garden, it does NOT make us gardeners.
And our choice to be housewives, does NOT mean we are ignorant of the world outside our four walls.
If our choice is to be stay-at-home mothers, it is just that – a choice. NOT an open door to disrespect, condescension, or a sign that we feel ourselves unworthy. If anything…it’s the complete opposite.
If you missed the first one – Rape Hurts – I hope you view it now. As well as taking a few moments to read the other powerful messages through the links on the KnowYourStar.com‘s page.
Thank you KnowYourStar.com for giving us a safe place to shout…for some, it’s all we have.
The link above will take you to their page…but here is what they ask:
1. Write an article/poem related to Women & Women Empowerment and post in your blog.
2. Link back to this article of KnowYourStar.com with a hyperlink so your readers and friends can join us if they are interested.
3. Enter your name and link into the Linky widget. (It should be the post link, and not your blog link in general. In your blog, click on the post title. The URL in the address bar would be the post link.).
4. Read and enjoy as many of the other writers as well. When you read more, most of them return to read yours.
5. Don’t miss this golden chance to impact the society! Let’s change it for better!
In collaboration with my dear friend and fellow blogger, Susan Daniels and her amazing ability to put what we feel into poetry…the following is our response to the challenge!
We did a series of three poems/images. The poetry is classic Daniels and the images are composites of photos of my own that I’ve manipulated to show what her words mean to me.
Please join the challenge is you feel you can, but if not, Join in the Conversation, visit KnowYourStar.com and read some of the other powerful entries in the effort to get RAPE out of the closet.
Women need simple things for safety. To walk alone at night I want fishhooks and barbed wire for clothing; vaginal teeth and a smile that neutralizes acid.
I cannot, in all honesty, say it thrilled me when I heard the kids had gotten a Trampoline.
With a 12-year-old and 3-year-old on that behemoth bouncy bone breaker, I had visions of head wounds and little fingers and toes caught in the webbing, and mid-air collisions that would result in trips to the emergency room.
However, never let it be said that Grammy Rhoni is not one to ‘give it a chance’.
So, on many a morning during our recent trip to almost heaven…I sat with my trusted and constant companion and just watched.
I’m glad I did and hope you can see why.
My laddie is definitely a TRAMP!
The hours of laughter, sweat, and no tears were worth every wrinkle the idea of this thing gave me!I observed big Alex having as much, if not more, fun than the little Alex dude But he DID get his turn!What heart wouldn’t melt at seeing the end of such a time? Mine sure did. What a sight!
So…I guess the lesson here, for all you Grams and Gramps out there…look before you leap; to conclusions that is.
Supervision, common sense, and a love for life is all that’s needed to make this a safe place to be a TRAMP!
It’s been over a year and a half since I’ve seen my grandson Alex, who turned 3 in April. I can think of nothing I’d rather do than share the next few days with you as we get reacquainted and fall in love all over again…
The first 200 miles Old Glory flies high and Gas prices do too 140 miles more before we leave the high cost of living in the Northeast behind…The layover at halfway Storm on the horizon Unwanted voyeurs One who is thankful for the break. 345 miles to go for sloppy kisses…Water, water, everywhere…and not a drop to drink! Oh…and a windmill, of course. 300 miles more to giant hugs from little armsTooling down the Blue Ridge Parkway headed for the home stretch Silos and Barns growing out of the Corn and oh…. Crackin’ the Barrel on every corner! 200 miles and we pop the top and pull the cork.The Kudzu Climbs The Gas Prices Fall And the Caverns are Cavernous 100 more to their front door.The first hello is always shy…but give him time, our little guy.Next thing you know they’re playing ball Basketball, football, soccer and all Running, shooting, fetching, “no fair!” I’m goin’ swimming…hop in gram, we’ll share.
So ends the first day…worth the trip and worth the heat.
Stay tuned for the next installment…getting down on the trampoline then popsicle parties and bubble magic.
I was working on a post this morning, having to do with the tons of fun in the sun trying to sell a house in today’s market (yeah, right), when as often happens, a short sidestep away from the center line resulted in being led down another dirt road. But that’s life, especially my life, as I live for the treks down the less traveled dirt.
This particular step off the line was a conversation with a friend that began with small talk about the Gawd awful heat wave and remedies for sun burns, meandered to the pros and cons of having your home and all its contents spread all over the air waves for any ol’ burglar to scope out, tip-toed into current affairs generally and recent events in the Florida courts specifically, then naturally (!?!) morphed into what it must be like for a child to be raised in a Muslim household that forbids TV, radio, music, internet, and playing with children not of their own religion.
Don’t you just LOVE these conversations that sprout tentacles like a giant squid? I do…I love the random nature of them almost as much as the feeling of comfort I get knowing we can talk about anything…all at once! Very stimulating to say the least.
Anyway, post Muslim life discussion, from which we both came away thinking we’d like to try our hand at reading the Koran, the conversation jumped the broom to religion in general. While one of use believes and the other does not, one thing is certainly true: Where we find intolerance, bigotry, segregationist thinking, there is usually a religious aspect fueling it. If we are ever to see the day when our planet’s caretakers can live in true peace and brotherhood…religious fanaticism or extremists, of any kind, must see the end of days.
This of course ‘evolved’ into, well, evolution. Which as a non-believer in religion of any kind, is in fact, the religion of choice. Past the talk of apes and chimps, we discussed how humans are shown to have an innate ability to share. Yup. Share. Which of course led to whether being kind and empathetic is genetics or learned, and whether lesser traits, like competing in all respects, is too, learned or innate. Survival of the fittest after all, with no moral force guiding it? For the non-believer, the take is that we are just naturally a ‘nice’ animal. For me, the believer, I tended to agree, but still harbor some doubt. I do think, that while certain characteristics of humans are innate, most are learned behaviors. Basically, nature vs. nurture. An old and forever on-going topic of discussion that has its own, very long, dirt path. We discussed why certain behaviors occur in some animals and not in others.
For instance, the beaten dog. How can a dog who knows mostly pain from the hand of its human, still find it within itself to lick that very hand the few times it might be extended in what one could only marginally be described as love? It’s insane. Yet, it happens all the time. However, for a child to be reared in the same way, the risk is far, far greater, that the result could just as easily be a non-empathetic psychopath as it could be a loving, thriving, kind, and generous, human being. Is that a choice? Nature vs. nurture again? I used myself as an example, and even so, I still have doubts about it…or maybe doubt is too strong a word.
I have questions.
Being a victim of childhood sexual abuse (The year that broke the dam) from the ages of 5 to 14 and a victim of rape at the age of 19, one could imagine that I could have become a bitter, angry, mean-spirited, non-trusting, love-hating person. But I didn’t (Back on the Road). I’m like the beaten dog…and I don’t mean to sound overly dramatic here…it’s more a visual aide. I live a life filled with as much love as there is hate; as much beauty as there is ugliness; as much need for love, both to give and to receive, as distrust of it. So, it begs the question…was this my choice? Or was I bound by genetics to grow into a woman with a heart and huge capacity for empathy? I don’t know.
But here’s the rub, and ultimately, the reason for our long stroll down these particular paths…in speaking with this friend, it was pointed out ardently, that I do, in fact, have a wonderful heart, a good and strong personality, a huge capacity for love, and that (this is the key) I’m beautiful on the inside.
Ah yes…the beauty within vs. the beauty without (is that the term? doesn’t sound right, but you know what I mean). I, for one, actually HATE that phrase. I love that I am, don’t get me wrong, but it’s a double-edged sword for me. I fell into the trap long, long ago, that it’s more important, at least initially, to be more beautiful on the outside. It has been my experience, and I just may have to take the responsibility for it (Delusional Illusions), that people who could not see beyond the surface passed me by without a second glance and without having the pleasure of getting to know me. I’m not alone. I’m certainly not unique in my thinking this is the way of things. I say honestly, if it was a choice to be the way I am, it was not an easy one, but for me, the only one. Why? Genetics? Nurture? (shrugging shoulders still)
So while I do still struggle with this question, the conversation, for all its meandering, did help me see that hard or not, choice or not, I am on the right path. My path. And if Joe Blow from Kokomo chooses to walk by me because I don’t look like a Playboy centerfold…I say one thing (well, I say it behind his back ’cause I’m nice)…
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