Billie Holiday and her dog, Mister — Happy birthday, Lady Day, born April 7th, 1915, in Philadelphia.
Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category
What happens when you physically accost someone in front of a cop.
Posted: February 18, 2013 in Pets, UncategorizedTags: pets, rescued animals
It was so hot. Unbearably hot. August in Phoenix is not where you want to be without an air conditioner. We had just pulled into the parking lot and I was rushing towards the office building to get out of the heat. We had been in the Datsun pickup for over 2 hours with no air.
I was guzzling the water from the bottle and rushing ahead of my boyfriend. It was the summer between my Junior and Senior year in High School and we had taken off for a week to visit his Mom.
When I turned to look back at him, a movement caught my eye. I thought I might be getting a bit delusional from the heat. I wiped the sweat away from my eyes, squinted and looked again.
There was something moving around in a parked car.
I walked over and looked in.
It was a dog.
Locked in a car with the windows up.
The temperature outside was 115 degrees.
What I had seen was him struggling to get up. He had stuck his paw up and placed it on the glass. He didn’t have the strength to keep it there and he had fallen back onto the back seat.
I gasped and tried to open the car door. It was locked. I ran around the car and tried all the doors. None of them opened.
I began to panic.
The dog was not moving.
I spun around and looked for something to break the glass. I saw a large rock near the bushes and ran over to it. I picked it up and ran back to the car.
My boyfriend was staring at me.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
I said nothing and took the rock and smashed the window. I had to try 3 times before it shattered. By then my boyfriend had come over. He pulled me back.
“What the HELL do you think you’re doing?” he screamed.
“I have to get the dog out of here,” I said as I pushed him away. I opened the car door, grabbed the dog and pulled him out. He was barely breathing.
He stood there with his mouth open and looked at the glass on the ground. I ran over to some shade and laid the dog down. I didn’t know what to do so I started fanning him.
There was foam all over his mouth.
“We have to get out of here before someone sees,” he said as he came up behind me and grabbed me by the arm.
“Shut-up and bring me the water from the truck!” I yelled. I took my water bottle and poured it over the dog. I washed his muzzle. “Come on baby, please keep breathing,” I sobbed as I rubbed his fur. I ran my hands over his face and put my mouth to his and breathed in. I didn’t know what I was doing. His head flopped back. I pulled it back to me and tried again.
“WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE” he screamed.
He was worthless. I ran over to the truck and grabbed the water and poured it on the dog. I pushed on his chest and kept breathing into him.
His eyes fluttered.
He wasn’t dead but he had passed out.
“You put your mouth on him? That’s fucking gross! I’m never kissing you again,” he said.
I looked up. “You got that right,” I said and kept fanning him and talking to him. I sat down and cradled him in my lap and stroked his face. He was coming around.
I didn’t see the cop car arrive. I heard a woman screaming about her car being vandalized. Someone must have seen what I had done and called the cops.
I didn’t care. They could have called the entire force and I wouldn’t have stopped.
“Miss, you mind telling me what you’re doing?” the cop asked.
I looked up. I thought it was obvious but I guess not.
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY CAR?” a woman screamed.
I looked down at the dog and leaned over. I put my nose against his. He licked me. He wagged his tail for a moment and then closed his eyes again.
“I broke the window to get the dog out,” I said.
The cop walked over and kneeled in front of me. He looked at the dog and stroked his face. I looked up at him and then back down at the dog. He was breathing but not very well.
“We need to get him to a vet,” I said and began crying.
“I didn’t have anything to do with it. I swear! We were just walking and suddenly she is breaking the glass,” the soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend said.
The cop stood up and turned to the woman. “This is your car?” he asked. I laid the dog down and stood up. I was very interested in her answer. I looked back at him and then back at the woman. I began to walk towards her.
“You left your dog in the car in THIS heat?” I screamed.
“YOU RUINED MY CAR YOU CRAZY BITCH!” she yelled.
Suddenly I was lunging towards her. I was aiming for her eyes. I shoved her back. The next thing I knew, someone had grabbed me by the waist and picked me up. One moment my feet were on the ground and the next moment they weren’t. I was suspended in mid-air for a moment.
The cop had picked me up. He carried me away from her. He opened up the back door to his car. He put me back on the ground and told me to sit down and be quiet. I nodded.
“I promise I won’t go near her, but can I sit with the dog?” I asked.
“No. You stay here. I’ll take care of the dog,” he said.
He radioed for animal services and told them it was an emergency. He walked over to the woman and advised her to be quiet and he would take a full report. He then walked over to the dog, picked it up and gave him to me to hold.
Not once had the woman shown any concern towards her dog.
My soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend walked over towards me. I ignored him and petted the dog.
I knew I was in trouble but I didn’t care. I sat while the cop talked to the woman. I couldn’t hear them and I didn’t want to.
“Miss, can you please step out of the vehicle?” the cop asked. I looked up and he was looking down at me. The woman was with him.
I held onto the dog and got out. The cop stayed between the woman and I. As I walked by, he put the woman in the back of his patrol car. She began to yell at him and he ignored her as he slammed the door closed.
“What happens now?” I asked.
“We’ll wait until they get here. How is he doing?” he asked and stroked the dogs face. He opened his eyes and his tail wagged again for a moment. I was glad he was a small dog.
“He’s OK but not very responsive,” I said. I felt nauseous from the heat and heartbreak.
A few minutes later, animal control arrived. They gently took the dog from me and promised me they would take good care of him. The woman in the patrol car was still yelling but the windows were rolled up.
“I hope you didn’t leave the air on for her,” I said.
He chuckled. “Yes I did, but I didn’t want to.”
I sighed and looked down at the ground. “I guess now you want all my information,” I said.
“Nope,” he said and walked away. He got in his patrol car and drove off.
This was not the first time nor the last that I rescued an animal.
To be continued.
“Please don’t make me cry.”
Posted: January 28, 2013 in UncategorizedTags: homeless, human trafficking
This morning was freezing cold. I was bundled up as best as possible. We all had heavy bags to carry. We each had our literature we were going to hand out and it was time to get started.
Nothing like spending a Sunday morning in a bad neighborhood going door-to-door.
We were paired up. Two people together at all times and always within each others eyesight. Each woman had a man with them. We had each others cell phone numbers and were as prepared as we could be.
This area had been picked due to a recent shooting and human trafficking. Our work was to reach out to people and give them some help. Handing out booklets about better living and their rights is the entry point. Always start with education and information.
I wasn’t nervous but I also am not stupid. The air had an electric feel to it. Many people looked at us suspiciously as we approached and very quickly returned our smiles and eagerly took the information. Each and every one of them thanked us, blessed us and a few wanted to shake our hands.
One person wanted to feed us and was worried that we were cold.
Standing there, looking at her and the ruined house she lived in made me smile. Here she was, living in very horrible conditions and she was worried about me. She probably didn’t have two nickles to rub together, but she wanted to feed me. When I declined, she then wanted to give me coffee. I laughed, shook her hand again and told her I was fine and warm enough.
We worked as fast as we could, going door to door and up so many stairs that I lost count. I could feel my legs getting tired and was still feeling the soreness from working out 2 days before. We would periodically take a quick break, drop our heavy bags and stretch.
As I was walking down one side of the street, a homeless man came around the corner. He had his shopping cart filled with all sorts of things and he was walking slowly. He looked hungry and cold. I guessed his age as his late 50’s with a 3-day growth of whiskers and his clothes were filthy. He had holes in his shoes, no socks and he walked aimlessly with his head down.
I walked up to him and stopped in front of his cart. He looked up and then looked away. I didn’t move.
“Hi,” I said.
He looked up and straight into my eyes. They were a brilliant blue and clear.
“Hi,” he said.
Then he smiled.
It was a beautiful smile.
I reached out my hand to shake his.
He put his hand out.
“You can see me?” he asked as he shook my hand. His hand was cold and dirty. I held it for a moment and looked down at it. I looked back up at him and let go.
“Yes, I can see you,” I said. “I am sorry for your troubles.”
He tilted his head and maintained eye contact. He nodded his head. I reached into my bag and gave him the information.
“I don’t know if this will help you, but I hope it does,” I said. He reached over and took it.
“You’re the first person to have said anything nice to me in…I can’t remember how long. I thought maybe I was invisible…”
“No, you’re not invisible. Maybe you are hiding?”
He laughed. “You might say that.”
He was completely lucid and sweet. I didn’t know his story and didn’t have time to find out, but I knew I would never forget him.
We shook hands and I walked away. As I was crossing the street, he said “I’m glad I met you.”
I turned around and felt the tears starting. I quickly wiped my eyes. “I’m glad I met you too,” I said as I waved and walked away.
We finished up the day, cold and happy. We packed up the van, said our goodbyes and each went our respective ways. I turned on the GPS on my phone to find a way home, cranked up the Pandora app and checked my email and text messages before driving off. The heater was on and I was beginning to thaw. I still had a lot to do that day and my house was not going to clean itself.
As I drove down the street, I kept looking for him. I don’t know why but I wanted to see if he was OK. I’ll probably never see him again but I hope he found a hot meal and a warm place to sleep tonight.
“Susan, if you would just settle, you would be so much happier.”
Posted: January 1, 2013 in UncategorizedTags: happiness, New Year Resolution
Has anyone ever said these exact words to me?
No, of course not. I don’t know anyone that stupid who would talk to me like that. They know I would pop them, right in the face if they were that direct.
But that doesn’t mean the idea hasn’t been said to me in various forms, often hidden behind their own desire to take from me without giving.
So, let’s count the ways that I have been so difficult and stubborn and refused to settle. Let me tell you all the ways I have been a horrible person in not settling and therefore allegedly giving up all types of happiness.
I refused to settle – twice – with married men that thought if I would just relent and “go with the flow” I would have everything I ever wanted. A condo, credit cards, a new wardrobe, etc. Then there was the one that tried to explain to me how no one would get hurt and there really wasn’t anything wrong with it.
I asked him why would I do that and he said I just needed to take what was offered until something better came along.
In other words, just settle for now.
Rule #1 to happiness – you can never be happy if you put your integrity up for sale.
If this should ever happen again, I am going to get real friendly with him, get his phone number and call his wife.
Anyone who knows me will not doubt that last statement. Ever.
Then there was the time someone wanted me to compromise with my feelings about someone I hated. It was explained to me in great detail how wrong I was and that I was being unkind, unreasonable and unfair. He was a wonderful man, helped lots of people and the problem was me. I was the bitch. I needed to see things differently and I needed to change my mind.
I refused.
He was later arrested and convicted for child molestation.
I knew something was wrong. Just didn’t know what it was.
Or how about the man who showed me a huge diamond ring and told me it could mine if I “played my cards right.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Go out with me and we’ll see what happens.”
“But I don’t like you.”
“That’s OK, you will,” he said as he slammed down his 7th drink that night.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“You’re making a big mistake. You need to face reality. At your age, what are the chances of you finding anyone but me to pay you any attention. You’re past your prime,” he said and ordered another drink.
I finished my drink and stood up. “You’re the one that needs to face reality, not me,” I said and walked out. His words stung, but I refused to show it. I walked to my car, got in and cried. Then I got angry, slammed my fist into the dashboard and patted myself on the back.
I hadn’t settled and I was happy.
Rule #2 to happiness – Always be true to yourself, no matter what anyone says. (Extra points if doing so pisses people off.)
“Susan, I’ll pay you more if you’ll stay here.”
I scratched my head. “Dennis, I’ve been working here for 6 months and NOW you offer me a raise? Because someone else now wants to hire me? Why didn’t you give me the raise because I earned it?”
He sighed. I could not stand him and had been looking for work elsewhere. I didn’t have many options. I had no college degree, I was recently divorced and having financial difficulties, but I needed the job. I needed the money, so I came into work everyday and spent my drive home crying.
“I will double what they are offering you.”
“But I don’t like you and you don’t like me…”
“That’s not true. I just find you difficult at times….”
He was lying. We did not get along. There was no denying that. I could settle and stay and continue to be miserable but be out of debt faster.
This also not the first time (nor would it be the last) that someone said I was difficult. I often wish people would find other ways of saying this. It has gotten boring for me.
I shook his hand and took the other job. I’m still there and am now an owner. I found the perfect job, the perfect group and I spend my day doing what I love – helping people and making lifelong friends.
I took the pay cut and I sucked it up. I put my heart and soul into my work. My boss LOVES those things that make me “difficult” because if I was a man, no one would ever use that word. They would use words like “dynamic” “a natural leader” “progressive thinker” “competent” “reliable” and never “pushy” “bad attitude” or my favorite – “bitch.”
That one still makes me laugh.
Rule #3 to happiness – Always know your own worth and don’t let anyone tell you differently.
I won’t settle. I may not have a lot of material possessions, but I am debt free and have always made my own way.
If not settling means I continue this life, just as it is until the day I die, then I will die happy. I may not have a lot to show for it on my financial statement or in what I own, but I never agreed that material possessions determined anyone’s worth or character.
Yeah, I disagree completely.
My New Year’s resolution? Oh, that’s easy.
Keep doing what I’m doing because I do it so well.
Happy Birthday bro.
Yeah, it’s been a while since you left, but it feels like yesterday.
I thought long and hard about writing anything. You know me; I don’t think every thought needs to be expressed. Every part of my life does not have to be known to anyone but myself.
But as time has gone by and the internet arrived, I wanted to make sure you were a part of it.
Even if it’s just a small part of it, that’s OK.
The space you occupy in my heart and soul is as large and tender as it could be.
This way, no matter what happens to me or where I go or even after I die, you will not be forgotten. Long after I’m gone, someone will stumble upon this post and they will see you and for that moment, you will be known.
The year is ending and a new one is beginning. This year has been so-so for me but I am hopeful for the new one.
Mom and the rest of us are fine. Dad has been gone for a few years now and we miss him also.
Every morning I see your picture and it makes me smile.
You made my life so much better. You were an amazing older brother.
I still remember how to spit, just like you taught me.
I can still jump from trees and tackle people. I just don’t have you to catch me.
I still can’t hold my liquor, no matter how many times you showed me how to do shots.
I got over my fear of motorcycles, no thanks to you. I still haven’t forgiven you for scaring the crap out of me on your Harley. Yes, I know you still think it’s funny and I can hear your laughter even now.
Shut-up.
I remember how every Christmas morning, you made sure you got to see everything I got. I think you were always more excited than me. You would wait to open your presents until I was done with mine.
There are still men walking around today who are still afraid of you because of the way you talked to them when they came to pick me up for a date.
I forgive you for that. It only took a few years before I understood why you were so harsh with them. It worked. They never came back.
I dodged a bullet with each one.
Thank you.
Thank you for always coming into my bedroom when I was sick to make sure Mom was doing a good job of taking care of me. Thank you for the crayons, books, ice cream and for reading to me when I was too sick to read for myself.
Thank you for showing me what bravery is. You know what I’m talking about. The time when you finally took your t-shirt off to swim and the world could see what had happened to you. You kept your head up and never said an unkind word to the kids that made fun of you.
I did end up dunking Timmie in the pool and almost drowned him for being mean to you. I got kicked out for a week, but it was worth it. I knew exactly what I was doing and did it long enough to scare him. He never made fun of anyone again. What an asshole he was. He had it coming.
There are so many good and wonderful memories of you, me and everyone. That’s why I know you are still here because life really never ends. It just takes on different forms.
I am glad I could be there and hold you when you left. It was just so appropriate for everything we had been through together. It was fitting and my honor.
I love you and miss you, but know you are well and I will see you when it’s my time to go.
I expect another round of video games, doing shots, eating ribs and laughing so hard that I can’t breathe.
Until then, stop scaring the women on the back of your Harley and continue to scare the men who want to date them.
“Would someone please get the retard out of the line?”
Posted: December 19, 2012 in UncategorizedTags: retarded, special needs
My head snapped up when I heard that. It wasn’t hard to hear since the man who yelled it was standing right behind me.
It was 6:00 in the evening. About 15 of us were standing in line at Safeway in the “15 items or less” line. The line wasn’t moving. It hadn’t moved for at least 10 minutes. Why?
Because there was a man in line with a shopping cart full of groceries. All the other check-out lines in the store were moving faster than the one we were in. I hadn’t noticed him when I walked up with my 2 items. The store was packed and all the lines were long. It was a Friday night and I knew it would be busy.
I also knew that I didn’t feel like cooking anything for dinner. All I wanted to do was go home, eat something and put my feet up. I was catching a cold. I had been on my feet all day and I just wanted to sit down and eat.
I turned around and looked at him. I hate the word “retard.” I have for a long time even though I have used it in the past. But that was a long time ago and that was before I read an article about it from the “Special Olympics” and realized it can be a very hurtful word.
But it was a word we used growing up, just like we used the word “Negro” until that was changed to “Black” and then “African-American.”
I have no problem changing my vocabulary if it means not offending someone, but you don’t know unless someone tells you.
I also hated it because sometimes kids would say that about my older brother. In my day, no one knew that some kids had learning problems. Those that did were just pushed through the system. Some could barely read and yet got their High School diploma. It has nothing to do with IQ and everything to do with how someone learns.
The man looked at me and then looked away.
“What did you say?” I asked.
“I said they should get the retard out of this line! The guy’s a moron and I’ve been standing here forever. I guess he’s too stupid to read,” he said.
I heard a few people grumble. Some sighed and shifted their weight around. We were all exasperated but I was pissed that this guy was being so rude.
I turned around and looked at the man who was holding up the line. He had his face down and started to pull his baseball cap further down over his face. He was tapping the counter with his other hand and then rubbed his eyes and quickly looked around.
Something was wrong.
The clerk was ringing up his groceries. It was impossible for him, or anyone in line, not to have heard what this man had shouted.
I turned back to the man behind me and shoved my groceries at him. “Here, hold these for me,” I said. There was no place for me to put them down. I was holding only 2 items and hadn’t gotten a hand basket.
“What? No, you hold them,” he said.
“No, YOU hold them! I’ll be right back,” I said. I put my items in his basket and pushed my way through the line.
I walked up to the man and smiled.
I was right. Something was “off” with him. He was fairly young, tall and very confused. He looked like he was about to cry.
“Do you need some help?” I asked.
He stammered, looked at me and then looked away. I glared at the clerk. She had been rolling her eyes at him. She wasn’t talking to him. She was obviously annoyed at him but was not saying a word.
She didn’t need to. Her body language spoke volumes.
“I…think…I…am…doing this wrong,” he said. “Everyone is mad at me…and I don’t know why.”
No, he didn’t know why. He didn’t understand. I wasn’t sure what his situation was but just looking at him for a few seconds I knew he was overwhelmed and in over his head.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. Some people around here are assholes,” I said. I started putting his groceries in his cart. The woman standing behind him had been listening. She had been annoyed but now she smiled, patted him on his back and told him he hadn’t done anything wrong. She started helping with groceries.
As he pulled out cash from his pocket to pay, a woman walked up. He held out the cash he had towards her. She smiled and showed him how much to give the clerk. This was his Mom. She had him count it out. She asked him how many items he had in the basket. He told her the exact amount.
She then had him read the sign and asked if he understood it. He said he did but didn’t see it.
She thanked me and the other woman and gave us each a hug. She said she was sorry for the inconvenience. She had run out to her car for a few moments and he had moved his cart into a lane that was open.
He smiled at us. “I saw it was open and I wanted to help my Mom. I’m sorry,” he said and looked down at his shoes.
She nudged him and he quickly stuck out his hand for us to shake. We did and they walked away. He turned around and waved at us. We waved back.
I looked at the clerk. She looked ashamed. “I’ll be talking to your manager as soon as I am done here,” I said.
I got back in line and took my things out of the asshole’s hand basket.
“Oh, shit, I didn’t realize he really was retarded….”
“Oh shut the fuck up,” I said and turned away.
To my faithful readers: Yes, I know. I posted the exact opposite of this here: https://idisagreecompletely.com/2012/12/12/youre-welcome-bitch/
Sometimes people just piss me off.
I am flawed too. And I don’t apologize for it.
Those words were right on the tip of my tongue last night as I held the lobby door open for a woman. I was just leaving work. I had been fighting a headache all day. I was hungry and still had an exercise class to go to that I was trying hard to talk myself out of.
I opened the door, stood back and smiled at her. She walked through the door. She didn’t look at me. She said nothing and just walked by.
She didn’t thank me. She didn’t acknowledge me. She ignored me as if she was entitled for people to open doors for her.
I bit my tongue and walked through the door and put her out of my mind.
I had done the same thing to someone else years ago.
I was walking into work. My head was down and my hands were in my coat pockets. I was lost in my own thoughts and despair. I didn’t see him. Somehow the door was open for me and I walked right through it.
“You’re welcome, bitch!” I heard someone say.
I turned around and saw him standing there. I was suddenly brought into the present. I blinked and looked around and tried to remember how I had gotten here. I didn’t remember. Everything was a blur.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I was lost in thought….”
“Yeah, right! You’re just rude…” he said. He was angry and that was all I needed.
“No, I’m not usually rude. It has been a bad day,” I said.
“Oh really? What has been so horrible about YOUR day? You think you’re the only person on the face of the earth, don’t you?” he said.
I stepped forward. “No, I don’t but the fact of the matter is, I just got back from the mortuary with my Mom. We had to pick out the head stone for my brother who died recently. But, hey! If my grief and the complete destitution of my family and life is a problem for you then…..go fuck yourself,” I said.
I had finally lost it. Just that comment of his was all it took for me to breakdown. I started crying. I had fought the battle for too long. I had been 1/4 inch close to my knees hitting the floor and giving up, but I refused. I would not go there. I would not fall apart and not be strong for my family.
It had been a nightmare. We and the doctors had done everything possible to save him, but it was not to be. No matter what I wanted, he would never be there again for birthdays, anniversaries, Christmas or anything else. There would always be an empty spot when we got together. He would never be in another family picture. I was done buying gifts for him and receiving his. I would never get to talk to him again. Ever.
This man’s comment brought it all crashing in.
“Oh, hey, I’m sorry…”he said.
I raised my hand. “Just leave me alone and try not to be such an asshole to people,” I said. I walked into the bathroom and cried. When I was done, I fixed my make-up, walked into work and got busy.
The woman last night could have had the same thing going on. Or maybe she just found out she was dying. Maybe she lost her job or maybe she doesn’t know how to get through the day.
Or maybe she’s just a rude person for no good reason.
I don’t know and I don’t want to know.
What about that person that cuts you off in traffic or doesn’t give you “the wave” when you let them in line?
I’ve been that person. I’ve cut people off when I was careless or when I’ve been rushing a dying animal to the vet.
I’ve waved and they haven’t seen it.
I’ve been the one going 25 miles an hour on the freeway because my car had broken down and I was crying and trying to find the closest exit to pull over. People honked and yelled at me and I was terrified. Their cursing and honking made it worse.
When someone is driving so slow on the freeway that I want to honk at them, I don’t. I have no idea who they are or what they are going through. Maybe they are in trouble or maybe they are just lousy drivers.
I don’t know.
Life is a series of millions of moments; past, present and future. She was one brief moment in my life and one that I could just let walk by me. I don’t know her burdens and she knows nothing of mine.
Think twice before you strike out at someone who is a bitch or an asshole. It’s just a brief moment. Let it pass and be a better person for it.
That is my Christmas wish. Be kinder to yourself and those around you.
His birthday is this month. “Happy Birthday bro. You are not forgotten.”
What my inmates are grateful for.
Posted: November 25, 2012 in UncategorizedTags: grateful, Thanksgiving
I just got back from a long Thanksgiving weekend. This is a picture of SOME of my family that showed up Thursday afternoon for dinner.
As you can see, I come from a large family. Not only are there many of us but we are a very tight and close group. There is one thing we all know and that is this: No matter where you go, no matter what happens, no matter what you do, we always have each other.
There are a few that couldn’t make it for various reasons. Some were elsewhere this weekend, some didn’t want to come and one or two are having personal problems and have decided to stay away for now.
None of it matters because all they have to do is make one phone call or send one message and we will be there.
Why? Because they are family. Whether related by blood, marriage or friendship, we always circle the wagons and take care of our own.
My sister asked each of us at dinner to say what they were grateful for. Everyone spoke of being grateful for our family. When it came to me, I said I was but that I was most grateful for the inmates I work with.
Needless to say, the table got a bit quiet and then my sister started clapping and others began to cheer.
You see, I never speak of them. I write about them but I never talk about them. No particular reason other than it’s just not conducive to your normal day-to-day chats.
Driving home this afternoon, I had 4 hours to think about things. I felt tired and recharged after spending 3 days with my family. Life seemed good again and hopeful. If I am away from them for too long, I begin to lose my perspective on things and often feel a bit lost, as if I am wandering around in a great desert all alone.
About a month ago, I asked a few of my students what, if anything, they were grateful for. Here are their responses along with a few I have heard over the years:
Manuel is grateful for being arrested and given the chance to get clean and sober. He is grateful for his family sticking by him while he confronts and handles his demons.
Yolanda is grateful for being able to place her 4 children in wonderful foster homes with people who will adopt them and give them the life she never could. She is grateful that one family will adopt her twins so they will never be separated. She is grateful that the foster care system will allow all of them to remain in contact with each other.
Suzanne is grateful that she met so many people who come into jails and run so many programs that she is now drug free and has learned how to get a job and keep it.
Rita is grateful that her family has not given up on her and that they come every week and support her.
Charlie is grateful that he got to spend time in Juvenile Hall where he had a place to sleep, food every day and people to listen to him and show him a better way to live.
Timothy was grateful for Mama Betty who gave him a place to stay, food to eat and a new family to love him.
Gracie was grateful that she was finally reunited with her family and was welcomed back into loving arms and helped financially so she no longer has to work and can stay with her grandchildren and raise them.
James is grateful for the obnoxious and stubborn people who show-up in his courtroom and chambers, demanding to help and insisting on it.
Roberto is grateful that he has learned how to read better and has started taking classes in jail. He is grateful that I, and others, write him every month and push him forward. He is grateful that he can now run his own reading classes in jail to help others.
Chanteel is grateful to have a job and a place to live and is no longer living on the streets.
There are many more, but these were the ones that popped up for me during my drive.
As blessed as I am and have been, I can honestly say that the main reason I know bad in my life is because I have had so much good.
My heart goes out to those who have not been as lucky as I have been. Perhaps that is the reason I work hard to make life a bit better for those around me. It’s because I got lucky and they didn’t.
It’s a crap shoot and I won. Those that didn’t need to know that they do matter and are important.
I am most thankful for all the lessons others have taught me and continue to teach me. I will do my best to pay it forward.
This post is prompted by a previous one I did about having a pedophile accidentally included in a class I was teaching to men who had been convicted of domestic violence.
The blog was linked to Google Plus, as always, and I knew it could spark some interesting comments.
I noted that it was not graphic so as to not worry some of my readers.
What transpired that day was something that upset me tremendously, inspired me and made me so grateful for my friends, all at the same time.
Most responded well but along came the trolls. I have let the comments on Google Plus stand so others may see them and make their own decisions.
I was also hit very hard on my blog with comments I didn’t approve and then deleted. I was shocked by how many I got, asking me to back-off, sympathize with the pedophiles and telling me they can’t help it and don’t belong in jail.
Some tried to force me into defending the pedophile and attacked me for not allowing him to participate in my class.
Others wanted all the gory details of his crimes.
Another one told me I was unprofessional and condescending.
For all of those that came to my defense, I love you dearly. I never explain or defend my stories. They are MY stories and I post them for others to enjoy.
If you don’t like them, then don’t read them. It’s that simple.
I do not believe in tormenting, punishing or harming anyone but that doesn’t mean there aren’t people who need to be removed from society as their actions are more harmful than good.
For those that attacked me and wanted details, you tipped your hand. I now know what is really on your mind. Thanks for that. Your names have been forwarded to the proper authorities.
As for those that talk to me and tell me their stories, rest assured I will never betray your trust or disclose anything you have told me. No matter how hard I may get hammered or badgered, I will never repeat what you have told me.
I know this is an ugly subject but the further I get into my writing, the closer this subject approaches. I don’t like it any better than you, but there are stories that need to be told and I have been entrusted with them and will do my best to give them the respect that they deserve.
If writing about it pisses some people off, I don’t care. Someone needs to speak for the silent survivors that contact me and want their stories told.
To all the trolls out there, I say this – bring it on. You ain’t got nothing I can’t handle.
To those that tell me their stories, I say this – as long as I can breathe, I will listen and keep your stories scared and in my heart. I will never betray your trust.
idisagreecompletely 
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