Dance in the Rain: A Quote

“Life is not about waiting for the storms to pass… it’s about learning how to dance in the rain. ” — Anonymous

A MEMORY

I vividly remember that as a teenager, I had an impulsive moment when my best friend and I ran outside in the rain, splashing through puddles in our barefeet and kicking mud at each other. I had known my best friend since childhood, and despite how much we’d grown or how the years had changed us, we stubbornly clung to the carefree laughter and antics that marked our girlhood.

Then, we realized that splashing in the mud definately was not “cool”. So we decided to wash our hair instead, scrunching our fingers through tangled waves to form kinky ringlets. Muddy toes were washed and pearly pink polish was smoothed over our nails. Dry our faces, apply mascara and eyeshadow according to the virtues of “Teen” magazine. We listened to our favorite songs on the tape player, and danced to thunderous bass.

And I look back, and smile… And I cling to those memories as I try to reshape my life from abuse and homelessness..and remember what it meant to be happy.

Lynn Mari, © 2009.

 

Crossing Over: Photography

Lynn Mari, 2009

 

The Forming of Quartz: A Survivor Speaks

Alone, I smiled and pretended our family was just fine…wanting to believe in you with such force that my spirit bled from my body until I was just existing as an earthbound spirit.

Once, I believed in destiny after we spent all night talking on the phone, sharing secrets until our voices were too hoarse to speak. You told me that the world had turned its back on you and I was the only one who understood, the only one who cared.

You were the only one invited into my inner world, moving from the telephone through fiber optic cables, winding into my heart. We stood together with our backs to the world and our eyes locked on each other. I felt the first tug when you stepped into my bedroom and gently held the drawing of the unicorns I made, and told me how you had seen this image before, perhaps in a dream, it was a sign we were meant to be together. I chuckled at how large you looked, sprawled out on my small twin bed, beneath a pile of my stuffed animals. We listened to music and discovered that all of my favorite songs were yours too! You told me how pretty I was, how wise. You told me that I didn’t need to go to school because you never did, because school couldn’t teach me much—life was meant to be explored not confined to a classroom. You told me I didn’t need to work, I should just leave it all and run with you into the blurry horizons of fate that brought us together. So I did.

Once, I believed we could make a life together. We gazed at the stars in each other eyes.
You were the only one who touched the dark, secret places of my body and filled them with life. Beneath my heart, a child grew. His eyes were brilliant as the stars we once gazed upon.

Once, I believed in luck. You wrapped your arm around my waist, winked, and promised
that you could make more money in a week of gambling than going to work. You were too smart to have a job, anyways. It was better you did your own thing, than deal with those jerks! You told me that you would win if I supported you. So I did. And when the bills went unpaid, and the baby had no diapers, and the cupboards went bare, and the credit cards maxed out, and the mortgage lost on the river, you could explain that too. You lost because I was not at your side (I was at home with the baby). You lost because I failed to support you. You lost because I was a bitch. So I closed my eyes, and let you go. No matter how many times you lost, I tried to be the only one who understood.

Once, I believed in forgiveness. After all the times you hurt me, I tried to forgive. After, all the times you laid your hands on me, twisting and tearing until I grew still and silent, I tried to forget. You told me that if I left you didn’t know what would happen…I was the only good thing in your life. Or you cussed me out and screamed about how much I had messed up your life, if anything went wrong it was my fault. I was crazy. I sat on my ass watching soap operas all day while you went to work. I couldn’t keep the house clean enough. I couldn’t keep the baby from crying; he smelled bad, made disgusting sounds when breast feeding and was such a brat. Once we talked late into the night until our voices were too hoarse to speak. Now those words were lost in torrents of rage.

Once, I believed I could take away your pain, if I just became silent, if I smiled just so. So I did. You popped another pill in your mouth. Dry, no water—anything you could get your hands on. Your energy shifted from an anxious buzz to falling headlong into a sleep so deep that I could not reach you. Those moments of sleep were moments of peace, no fighting or fear. Only to shift when you woke, a shadowy form fading into the starry night. The two fists crumpled at your side were tense reminders of what you smashed, kicked and crushed. I begged you not to leave—the cash crumpled in your hand was the last of the bill money, spent on another dry swallow. Alone, I smiled and pretended our family was just fine. I lived for the moments the baby giggled at me, or the times you tickled my waist…wanting to believe in you with such force that my spirit bled from my body until I was just existing as an earthbound spirit.

Once, I believed I was just a scared, small girl. Then I caught my reflection in a clear mirror of quartz. I saw a hollow look of surrender gazing back. I saw line and scars beaten into me. Somewhere within, my spirit stirred, filling flesh and bone with breath. I held the mirror in my shaking hands and yearned for all the lines and scars to show. Yearned for mineral veins of strength to emerge, breaking through the surface of glistening quartz. I am no longer scared. I am no longer small, unseen. I am no longer believing anything you say. I have survived all you have done to me. I am a survivor, hardened like quartz. Resilient, Beautiful.

Lynn Mari, © 2009.

 

Autumn in Minneapolis (Minnesota)

Lynn Mari, c 2008

When you get behind the lens of a camera, you are drawn a world seen, and yet unseen by ordinary eyes.

This is a view of Minneapolis and the Metrodome.

Lynn Mari, ⓒ 2008.

 

107 Year Old Chinese Woman Bravely Seeks Marriage

Source: © Thomson Reuters 2008.
“Would-be Chinese bride, 107, seeks first husband”, Mon Jan 12, 2009. Reporting by Emma Graham-Harrison; Editing by Nick Macfie and Sugita Katyal. http://www.reuters.com/article/worldNews/idUSTRE50B19S20090112

A 107 woman named Wang Guiying reports that domestic violence was acceptable, and common in traditional Chinese marriages. Wang grew up in a world where men commonly beat and degraded women, and vividly recalls an incident where she discovered her aunt crying in a woodshed after being attacked by her husband.
Wang said: “”All the married people around there lived like that. Getting married was too frightening..”
Wang grew up at a time where marriages were often arranged between older men and young girls, and a woman had no say in choosing her partner. If a woman was murdered, no questions would be asked. Wang feared men, and avoided getting married because she did not want to be abused. She lived alone and worked as a farmer until she was 74 years old, when taken in by relatives. That Wang has remained single for so long, survived by running her own farm and now is taking an active role in selecting a husband is extraordinary.

Traditional Chinese society viewed women as inferior, they had few rights and exercised little authority in the home, they were subject to the demands of their husband or other male relative. It was common for men to have more than one wife, or to take concubines. A woman’s status was further minimized by her place in the marriage—first wives were at the top of the hierarchy, concubines at the bottom. Wives that bore sons were also favored. In Wang’s era, foot binding forced was a routinely practiced. Foot binding involved wrapping the feet of Chinese girls with tightly woven cloth, often breaking the bones in the process, to make their appearance more pleasing for their husbands. Women were often left crippled after having their feet bound for many years, and endured life long pain. Foot binding is no longer practiced in Chine. However, discrimination against women in China still exists. Female babies may be aborted in hopes of obtaining a son or alternately, female children are abandoned. There have also been progress in improving the lives of women in China, by granting them rights previously denied, and allowing them more opportunities in employment and education.

Wang fears that she is becoming a burden on relatives, and perhaps is a bit lonely, as she has changed her mind and recently decided to look for a husband. Local officials are assisting in the search for a husband, and are considering candidates from local nursing homes.

I pray that Wang finds the love she has so long been denied, and that her marriage is a very happy one.

Additional Sources:

Behind the Spectacle: Women’s Human Rights in China, Marcy Bloom on August 19, 2008: http://www.rhrealitycheck.org/node/7926

“Chinese Cinderella” and “Falling Leaves”. by Adeline Yen Mah.
I read both and highly recommend, Mah writes memoirs about growing up in China during the 40’s and how she survived abuse, and being an unwanted daughter–and grows up to succeed despite everything against her.
http://www.adelineyenmah.com

China: Women’s Issues & Communities: http://newton.uor.edu/Departments&Programs/AsianStudiesDept/china-women.html

US: Clinton Remarks Undermine Rights Reform in China, Human Rights Watch
February 20, 2009: http://www.hrw.org/en/news/2009/02/20/us-clinton-remarks-undermine-rights-reform-china

Women’s rights activist detained in China: Amnesty International
14 January 2009: http://www.amnestyusa.org/document.php?id=ENGNAU200901148963

 

Poem from a Homeless Man

This summer, I was walking down the street and I saw a homeless man leaning against a granite wall in downtown Minneapolis. The man had his knees hunched to his chest and a pad of paper balancing across them. I remember how striking the image was–the smooth granite, with its metallic flecks of gray and quartz contrasted against the duller gray of the homeless man, whose shadowy body seemed to meld into the mineral planes of granite. Two shades of black–a granite block on a modern building with chrome fixtures and elegant windows against the muted shades of poverty and street life–gave off the same coldness.

This man looked like he had a story to tell, his eyes were small and hard like obsidian, his face deeply etched with grimy lines, and his lean fingers were tightly grasping his pen.

He had a plastic bucket propped in front of him, and a sign leaning against it that read “A Penny a Poem”. I dropped some money in the bucket and the man picked a random poem for me.

The poem was handwritten on a small piece of paper, and touched me because it spoke volumes about what I felt being homeless–and what few see about homeless people. That our worlds are more than free meals or begging or desperation…we don’t cling to the material world in the same way most do, because we have learned to let go of so much. I saw a glimpse of this man’s thoughts, his dreams, his sarcastic commentary on the busy feet shuffling all around him…I saw more. And that is what touched me. Because I was once homeless, and despite my desperate circumstance, my world was also so much more. But few ever saw, let alone understood.

Lynn Mari, 2009
____________________

My Last Day: Poem from a Homeless Man

“My last day
Started out fine

The theatre

A sharp sudden blow
Took what was mine

A life

To encourage the peace
Of the world

At least
The troops on the field
Did not fail.”

– Anonymous, 2008.

 

If Not We, Then Who? (MN Event 1/21/09)

If Not We Then Who

You’re Invited:

Join other leaders from business, government, and communities of faith as Minnesota Commits to End Poverty by 2020

If Not We, Then Who?

Show Up. Add your support to the historic vision and significant recommendations proposed by the Legislative Commission to End Poverty by 2020.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 21, 2009
3:00—4:00 P.M.

LANDMARK CENTER
75 West 5th Street, St. Paul

Stand Up for people experiencing poverty.

Sign Up. Add your name and support to a movement that will put an end to poverty in Minnesota.

Speak Up. Tell the story in your place of worship and in your community.

If Not We, Then Who? If Not Now, Then When?

Ending poverty is possible when we show up, stand up, sign up, and speak up

http://mnwithoutpoverty.org

 

Refuse to Fall Down (Quote), Clarissa Pinkola Estes

“Refuse to fall down.

If you cannot refuse to fall down, refuse to stay down, lift your heart toward heaven like a hungry beggar, ask that it be filled and it will be filled.

You may be pushed down.

You may be kept from rising.

But no one can keep you from lifting your heart toward heaven-only you.

It is in the middle of misery that so much becomes clear.

The one who says nothing good came of this is not yet listening.”

– Clarissa Pinkola Estes

I read “Women Who Run With Wolves” as a teenager, and it deepened my perspectives in so many ways…not to mention gave me a few chuckles by provoking memories of my own adventures with the “wolves”! I really admire Clarissa Pinkola Estes–she is wise, is a gifted storyteller, and is charmingly “down home”.

Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estés’s blog:
http://ncrcafe.org/blog/6987

 

MSNBC Makes Abuse a Joke

MSNBC makes a joke of domestic violence in an incident where a Florida woman was hit in the face and nearly killed by her boyfriend.

I saw the article (reported on 11/18/2008) reported on MSNBC.com titled “Cops: Man uses sandwich to assault girlfriend
Authorities aren’t saying if the weapon he wielded was a club sandwich” . The article was listed on the front page of MSNBC under “Weird News”. Other news sources have reported the incident, noting the strangeness of the assault but not going to the extent MSNBC has by mocking the attack, and its severity.
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/27793459/from/ET/

The article details an incident where a 19 year old woman, Brittany Gonzales, from Port St. Lucie, Florida
was driving on Interstate 95 when an arguement erupted with her boyfriend, Emmanuelle Rodriguez, 19. Also in the car was their baby son, seven months old. The boyfriend became angry then allegedly hit Brittany in the arm and the face with a sandwich. Apparently the incident is funny, as MSNBC reports: “Police haven’t said what type of sandwich was involved.” Brittany’s glasses were knocked off due to the force of the blows. Keep in mind that Emmanuelle was sitting in the seat next to Brittany, so to hit her to the extent that her glasses were knocked off meant that he struck hard. I’m only speculating but it’s possible the sandwich absorbed some of the force. Had Emmanuele hit Brittany in the head with an open hand or closed fist, he could have knocked her unconscious, caused contusions or broken bones.

Brittany who was driving anywhere from 60-70 mph on the Interstate, nearly lost control of the car because she could not see after her glasses were knocked off. It is also reported, “…the man then allegedly ripped off the rear-view mirror and used it to shatter the windshield.” The baby in the back seat was reported to be sleeping and was not hurt. Brittany exited the freeway and then asked Emmanuelle to get out of the car, which he did. He was later arrested.

MSNBC concludes the article by making jokes about the sandwich, referring to it as a “club sandwich”. The reporting of the incident by MSNBC is not only insensitive but deplorable. Making jokes about abuse–and minimizing the seriousness of the assault is not funny. This kind of attitude that implies “it’s not that bad” and suggests you can merely shrug off the incident is exactly what prevents battered women from coming forward and getting help.

Emmanuelle Rodriguez was charged and freed on $7500 bail. The most dangerous time for battered women is when they leave or attempt to leave the abuser; violence often escalates during this time. Women who do not get help or support may return to the abuse, or be killed. Now that Mr. Rodrigues on bail, he is roaming the streets and poses a very real danger to Brittany and her son–and anyone who may be trying to help them. I hope Brittany gets help from the police and a battered women’s shelter. It is imperitive that she set up a safety plan.

I want Brittany to know that she deserves to be treated with love and respect. It is not okay for anyone to hurt her–or laugh at her struggles. I am very sorry that people think its funny that Brittany was assaulted, I cannot magine how terrified she must have felt. Brittany, you are very brave to go to the police. I know it’s very hard to talk about painful things, especially when someone you love is hurting you. I know it’s not easy to leave the situation–your whole life will change, and you will need to make alot of sacrifices. But it’s worth it. You will be safe, you will heal and most of all you are giving your son a better life. There are people who care, and who want to help. Don’t be afraid to ask. There are women who have survived abuse and will understand, you are not alone. Have hope, things will get better. I will keep you in my prayers, and wish the best for you and your son.

Let’s think about this for a moment…

5.3 million women are abused each year, 1,232 women killed from abuse. We know the names of some of these women: Laci and Connor Peterson, Nicole Brown Simpson, Loretta Lynn, and Robin Givens.

In 2001, more than half a million American women were victims of violent acts committed by their partners–men they were in relationships with.

In the United States alone, 324,000 pregnant women are abused by their partners. Homicide is the leading cause of death for pregnant women.

Children, like the seven month old child mentioned above, exposed to domestic violence typically fall into three categories (and/or a combination of all three):

* Witnessing a violent event
* Being a victim of a violent event
* Experiencing the aftermath of violence

Domestic violence is extremely traumatic for children. Children may used as a tool for the perpetrator to abuse or exact revenge on the victim (their mother). Children may be hurt when caught between fighting parents. A child may be hurt trying to protect the mother. And often, these children are at a higher risk of becoming a victim of child abuse or neglect. These children may suffer psychological or physical harm from being exposed to violence–often the scars are lifelong.

Abusers are often repeat offenders–they will abuse and terrorize their families time and time again.

Victims of abuse often do not come forward because they fear retaliation from perpetrators–or they will not be believed. Some fear they will be mocked, as MSNBC has done.

I don’t think this is funny. MSNBC should apologize for their insensitive, deplorable reporting of this story.

Quotes:

“Children who are exposed to domestic violence are more likely to exhibit behavioral and physical health problems including depression, anxiety, and violence towards peers. They are also more likely to attempt suicide, abuse drugs and alcohol, run away from home, engage in teenage prostitution, and commit sexual assault crimes.” — Family Violence Prevention Fund

Child Welfare Information Gateway, “Possible Symptoms in Children Exposed to Domestic Violence “

Sleeplessness, fears of going to sleep, nightmares, dreams of danger;
Physical symptoms such as headaches or stomachaches;
Hypervigilance to danger or being hurt;
Fighting with others, hurting other children or animals;
Temper tantrums or defiant behavior;
Withdrawal from people or typical activities;
Listlessness, depression, low energy;
Feelings of loneliness and isolation;
Current or subsequent substance abuse;
Suicide attempts or engaging in dangerous behavior;
Poor school performance;
Difficulties concentrating and paying attention;
Fears of being separated from the nonabusing parent;
Feeling that his or her best is not good enough;
Taking on adult or parental responsibilities;
Excessive worrying;
Bed-wetting or regression to earlier developmental stages;
Dissociation;
Identifying with or mirroring behaviors of the abuser.
Additional Information:

WFTV.com “Fla. Man Accused Of Sandwich Assault
Police: 19-Year-Old Woman Struck In Face While Driving”
http://www.wftv.com/nationalnews/18017024/detail.html

National Domestic Violence Hotline: “Help is available to callers 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. Hotline advocates are available for victims and anyone calling on their behalf to provide crisis intervention, safety planning, information and referrals to agencies in all 50 states.”
1-800-799-SAFE (7233) or TTY 1-800-787-3224
http://www.ndvh.org/

Child Welfare Information Gateway, “Children’s Exposure to Domestic Violence”:
http://www.enotalone.com/article/9996.html

End Abuse, “Domestic Violence is a Serious, Widespread Social Problem in America: The Facts”:
http://endabuse.org/resources/facts/

Family Violence Prevention Fund, “The Facts on Children and Domestic Violence”:
http://endabuse.org/resources/facts/Children.pdf

Minnesota Center Against Violence and Abuse: Barbara J. Hart’s Collected Writings (When Batterers Kill, Children and Domestic Violence, Intervention, Legacy Advocacy and More)
http://www.mincava.umn.edu/documents/hart/hart.html

Resistance, Reluctance, and Readiness in Perpetrators of Abuse Against Women and Children by Katreena L. Scott and Colin L King
http://tva.sagepub.com/cgi/content/refs/8/4/401

 

What is So Important? (I Saw a Man Hit By a Car)

I was driving down the street today, and had alot on my mind. I really thought I was going through some challenges until I saw this man get hit by a car…

I think the strangest thing was that the man did not scream, all was silent until I heard the dull thump of his body being slammed by the car. The the man fell to the ground as if his very bones had become liquid. One moment the man was walking and in just a few seconds, he was crumpled on the cold asphalt like a newspaper carelessly tossed by the wind. As I witnessed the accident, all I could do is yell, “Jesus!”. A huddle of people rushed to the ground to offer help; one person laid an oil stained tarp over the man, another was frantically dialing for help from a cell phone. An ambulance arrived in minutes, more people gathered to watch. The man was blessed to have survived the impact, and blessed that people stopped to help him… In my mind, I kept hearing the thud of the man’s body slamming against the car, and my thoughts turned inward on what I had witnessed.

What IS so important anyways? I had all this stuff on my mind, all these things going on that seemed so stressful…but were they worth any more than a second of my attention?

Hmm… Consider the stress, the fear, the anxiety, the utter helplessness and I would say a resounding: NO! When I saw that man get hit by the car, my only thought, my single thought was to call on God. And I knew, in the very core of my being, that He would answer. Immediately. With love and concern. God wouldn’t say, “Just a minute.” Or, “I’m busy, can you wait?” Or, “I just don’t have time today.” God was there. Not only did God spare the life of the man hit by the car but He prevented another accident that could have happened as a series of cars slammed on their brakes and skidded to the side of an icy road. God blessed the police and ambulance to arrive speedily. God provided the assistance the man needed until help arrived. God made the driver of the vehicle pull over, and comforted that driver’s emotions as they dealt with the accident. God will guide the hands of the doctors, and give them the knowledge to heal the man. God will provide the doctors with the ability and knowledge to create new cures and treatments. God has only one thing on His mind–that is His love for us.

And it made me realize that I need to have one thing on my mind, too. God. If in a moment a life can change forever, then I know it only takes a moment to change a thought. Anything that seems to be too heavy to bear should be given away in prayer. Life is too important to be spent worrying.

Hebrews 11:1 (KJV), “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”

1 John 4:18-19 (KJV),”There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love. We love Him, because He first loved us.”

Ephesians 1:3-4 (KJV),”Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath blessed us with all spiritual blessings in heavenly places in Christ: According as he hath chosen us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and without blame before him in love.”

I watched that man get hit by a car and I knew he did not worry before the accident–he had no idea that he was about be slammed into. In a moment, I learned that worry does not serve me in any way, nor can it actually protect me from my fears. In fact, worry does just the opposite–it can kill. Worry is more than a feeling, it is an energy that separates you from God, and puts up barriers to receiving love. Terrible things in life will happen. Things I have no control over. Injustice. Hatred. Bigotry. Corruption. Malice. Violence. Yet I am not helpless. I can pray. And I can direct my thoughts and actions in a positive direction.

In a moment my life was forever changed today–when my thoughts moved from worry to God. I saw what it means to live without fear, even more I saw what it means to surrender to God’s plan with courage and conviction.

Lynn Mari, 2007.