My One Election 2016 Post #Imwithher

Reading over this, I’m reminded of why I don’t do election politics. This is way too much about who I don’t like and not nearly enough about who I do. I mostly try to avoid using the Republican nominee’s name because I don’t want to contribute to his publicity machine. That first, debate, though… woo.

I’ll admit I’ve been planning for a while now to vote for Hillary Clinton in November. I didn’t even plan to watch the Presidential debates because I knew they wouldn’t sway me and expected them to be a horror show. My girlfriend turned on the first debate halfway through, and what I saw was even worse than I expected. I could tell Donald Trump was lying like crazy without even fact-checking.

I’ve done some research on verbal indicators of deception for another project. One of the most common is evasiveness. When people are telling the truth, they tend to give a quick and simple answer to a question or allegation. They may expound on it, but a delay of even a couple seconds for the initial answer is suspicious. Even well-prepared liars often stall.

Cover-Ups Are Nothing New at The Listening Ear

Photo from Wikipedia

Content Warning: Rape, abuse, enabling

The Listening Ear hasn’t been trustworthy for quite some time. It was a mistake for me to return to the organization in 2013, but I was foolish enough to think I could help change things for the better. An even greater mistake for me has been holding back some of the things I know. That will begin to change right now. The Listening Ear’s sex offender scandal was nothing new.

As I’ve written before, the Listening Ear suffered through an embezzlement crisis in 2003. Some people in the organization wanted to keep it in-house. Many of us threatened to quit if that route was taken. Ultimately, the Listening Ear filed a police report and announced the embezzlement publicly. Over the next few years, most of the advocates for prosecuting the embezzler left the organization.

Mid-Month Miscellany for September 2016

I often have quick thoughts that don’t turn into full blog posts for one reason or another. So I decided I’ll throw them into a post around the middle of each month.

One of my favorite bloggers broke my heart with this post recently. I sometimes get shy about complimenting women bloggers because I’m afraid to make them feel like that. This woman is smart, funny, a great writer, and deserving of our respectful attention.

If we were to regularly give as much attention and effort to discussing racism as we do to discussing Colin Kaepernick, we might not have any reason to discuss Colin Kaepernick. I will give him one sentence: I’m not bothered by his kneeling but do find it disrespectful when people stand with their hands on their hearts while they talk, joke, and laugh.

How I Met My Writing Mother

Devon of SynDolly fame has organized a blogging party today to celebrate the birthday of a woman so many of us adore. So I figured I would write a little bit about how I met my writing mother.

Toward the end of last year a Facebook friend shared a blog post from a woman telling the world that she is an American Muslim. In the wake of the shootings in Bakersfield and Paris, anti-Muslim hatred was especially intense. Yet here she was telling the world her truth, that she was the daughter of immigrants who had fled war. I was awestruck at this woman’s courage.

Thinking About a Blogger I Never Knew

Content warning: Suicide

I’m sad that I didn’t catch onto Blahpolar until it was too late. Ulla clearly meant a lot to a lot of people, and many of them are honoring her today for World Suicide Prevention Day. I don’t have memories to share, but I decided to try and contribute in another small way. So I did a second response to the Carrot Ranch Communications Goodbye prompt.

Goodbye, Ulla. I’m sorry I never got to know you.

Leaning Into the Wind

It was a clear but chilly and breezy day as we stood on the bridge. We spent the day doing things she enjoyed, taking a long walk, holding hands, and talking about whatever sprang to mind. It was a day full of laughter and tears, the kind she always loved. It was on just such a day she first told me how she thought about killing herself by jumping off that bridge. That’s why we chose the place. It seemed like what she would’ve wanted. So it was there she finally became free, the wind carrying her ashes away.

Then You Can Tell Me Goodbye: Flash Fiction

I wrote multiple responses to the most recent Carrot Ranch Communications prompt Goodbye. Two had similar endings so only one is presented here. Yet another one might be published tomorrow.

Then You Can Tell Me Goodbye

We had barely spoken a word all morning as I got into my car. We had promised not to say a certain word and were struggling to avoid it. She did tell me she made extra strong coffee to help start my long drive. I still couldn’t help but cringe at the taste. She erased my expression with a kiss. Starting my car, the radio was playing an old song perfectly timed. We shared another kiss through the window before I put my car in reverse. Pulling away, I sang to her, “Sweeten my coffee with a morning kiss…”

Trigger Warnings Are Not Excuses From Triggers

Before reading my thoughts on trigger warnings, you should read this post.

The post I linked is meant to oppose trigger warnings but actually reads to me in many ways like a defense. The veteran student mentioned chose to watch a movie with images of war in a setting where he would be less likely to have a severe reaction. That is the very purpose of trigger warnings in an academic setting. It’s not an excuse to skip any material. It just allows the student to deal with it in a healthier way.

While I do support trigger warnings, I also have to agree with this post that they are a privilege. (I wrote about this idea previously.) I would love to avoid images of war, violence, and many other unpleasant things. So too would many people I’ve met in places like Iraq and Afghanistan. They are not as lucky as I am. They get no trigger warnings.

Rape Culture In a Rape Crisis Center

Content warning: Rape, rape culture, rape apologism, enabling

You’ve probably heard by now that the Stanford Rapist Who Can Swim Really Fast will be released from jail today. (He also goes by Brock Turner, but hereafter I’ll simply refer to him as the Stanford Rapist.) The sentence and even a lot of the outcry over it tells us a lot about rape culture.

A lot of anger over his lenient sentence has been directed at the judge in the case, and he has certainly deserved plenty of heat. Then again, the problem with that sentence goes far beyond the judge. One of the recommendations of the Stanford Rapist’s probation officer was the sentencing should be suspended in favor of probation. The probation officer (a woman) made sure to point to the Stanford Rapist’s youth and level of intoxication in making the argument that his crime was “less serious”.

“Less serious”? I suppose “20 minutes of action” is “less serious”. Of course, calling rape “20 minutes of action” is a pretty obvious example of rape culture. Calling it “less serious” is much more subtle but still very much rape culture. It came from someone charged with protecting the public, and it needs to change.