Defining Family ...

A Picture is Worth A Thousand Words

Can I believe what I see? Yes. This is family. My grandsons. Taliek, the older one, was born in April of 2004. His birth heralded a new day--I was once again a grandmother. The pain of losing his sister two years earlier left an indelible mark on my heart. We are not promised long life, but I do believe that God tells us life can be worth it. I only had Melliah in my life for 7 glorious days, but I remember that precious gift and am the better for it. When Taliek was born, I knew that God had given us all another chance.
     When I look at this picture, I'm overcome with an overwhelming desire to make the world right. For them, in memory of Melliah, in honor of my grandchildren here and to come. When my children were growing up, I told them that life wasn't necessarily fair. I told them that fairness takes a lot into consideration and those that think that everyone should have the same amount of -- well, everything -- are doomed to disappointment. But, life is to be lived as long as you remember that life encompasses both the joys and sorrows of living.

"The bond that links your true family is not one of blood,

but respect and joy in each other's life. Rarely do members

of one family grow up under the same roof."

                                                                                                        Richard Bach, Illusions
Family.  This picture is about family. That's the other thing I see when I look at my grandsons. This picture was taken the week Octavian came into our lives. Notice I didn't say, when Octavian was born because Octavian came into our lives a little more than two months after he was born. We didn't know at the time how long we'd be able to keep him, but a day or a year, a lifetime, he was ours. Taliek's captivation of his cousin was life long. We are family. Pure and simple.
     I have family all around the world. I cannot find a biological connection other than being human, but overall this family that I have now has grown over time. A couple of decades, actually. Calling the people I love family is not something I always believed in. I had a family that included mother and father, sisters and brothers. I had grandmothers and grandfathers, aunts and uncles, and a plethora of cousins of various generations. Our connection was that of blood. I believed that family was family and others--well, some friends, others just associates. Then,when I got older I realized that not everyone was a blood relation, but everyone could be family.
     My daughter and sons always brought friends home and often these friends called me Mom. Our home was the way station for many young people--some whose lives were less than fair. It wasn't easy for me to care about these children, not being able to do much more than that. I couldn't adopt them, but I could care and often feed a child or offer him or her help with his or her homework. The time at my house was comfort with limits. I didn't try to raise another parent's child, but I offered consistency and a place of refuge for many. Maybe that is where my daughter got it from.
     When my daughter learned about Octavian, that he was being placed in CPS custody, she offered a place of refuge. A mutual admiration society was created between Octavian and Eryon, but not just them alone. It is hard to know that people will debate about doing what is right for a child; whether or not to do anything. Too many challenges and obstacles. I know. I wrestled with these challenges and obstacles a lot. Too many young folks were left to their own devices, with little or no supervision. I could not adopt all of them, but I did what I could. But, here's what I'd like for us to consider. What will it take to create the village that cares for all of our children?
     I'm trying to figure it all out. This week, CPS came and took Octavian from my daughter. As I said, we knew there was a chance CPS would push to have Octavian united with his blood family. I get that, but family is not necessarily one of blood. You see, Octavian had the best of all worlds. He had a family who wanted him and loved him. Some of his family could not do everything, but together this family could give Octavian his best shot. So what went wrong?
     Institutions like the Child Protective Service are interested in rules and procedures and they should be. But, they lack something very important. That basic lack is that not everything can be tied up or fixed by a procedure. When you have people who are willing to step up to the plate--give that child every chance. Help the people who lack and the people who are willing and the people who can a chance to work together. Look past the rules and procedures and weigh the human element of relationships--family. Octavian has a family. They are not all blood, but they could work together, if only the bureaucrats would get out of the way.
     More to the story ...

The Setting Sun ...

 

 At the end of the day, we're all victims.

Pick a topic, any topic of the day, and you'll find those of us who are angry, frustrated and feeling put upon. Just recently my friend reposted a quote she'd gotten from another Facebook Friend. It read:

"Entitlement my butt!! I paid for my Social Security Insurance! Our benefits aren't some kind of charity or handout! Congressional benefits--free health care, outrageous retirement packages, 67 PAID holidays, three weeks PAID vacation,  unlimited PAID sick days--now THAT'S welfare. And Congress has the nerve to call my retirement an Entitlement?"

Thanks, Inez, for passing the quote on. There were a lot of exclamation points in this quote, but gotta admit the capping PAID was mine. Points made. And we wonder who the victims are. Well, look in the mirror. We have been victimized by those who profess to love America, who wants what's best for Americans, and in the next breath they are the ones who dismiss, deny, and denigrate every last one of us. Smaller government? What a crock. It is not about smaller government, it is about those who have been given the key to government to govern that is our problem. They are doing a piss-poor job of it.
     Victims. I hate the word, but what other word identifies what is happening to us. We are victims of greed and avarice and over zealous bigots who refuse to acknowledge their bigotry. We are victimized by a system that cannot change, but must be blown to bits, annihilated. But that is hatred talking. It makes me sound like a T-Party wannabe. Still, I have to rant a bit more before I get to the epiphany and the lessons learned. You know the "I'm mad as hell and not going to take it anymore" scenario? Well, I'm in the throes of a Beserker Fury over the state of the world today. And hell, I'm supposed to be a peacemaker.
     I just stopped working for someone who paid more money to their cook than me. That's my fault, however. It is better to out price yourself than to be too cheap. Again, my fault, not that person's. It's just that I know that times are tough and I'm willing to work my way up the ladder, even if I've built the ladder I'm on. That's victimhood. That's feeling sorry for myself because I should have considered my worth from the get go. Instead, I was new in town--needed a little work and viola took what was offered. When I think of the last word in the quote above--Entitlement--I realize that we have an incorrect definition of that word. What is entitlement?

An entitlement is a guarantee of access to benefits based on established right or by legislation.

Identified Patient of the Poor

Simple? Not so. Because in the end, those benefits based on legislation change for certain segments of the population--the poor, the new poor Middle Class (boo hoo) and it is changed to benefit those who HAVE an entitlement not based on the definition. They've established the benefit, but it ain't right. What face marks the look of victimhood? Mostly people of color and what do we do about that? Well, what can we do? People of color have often been the face for despair and destruction. We buy into it, but we should not. As Shirley Sherrod said in her speech to the NAACP, "... it's really about those who have versus those who don't." She goes on to add, "... and they can be black, and they could be white, they could be Hispanic." But she said that was when she realized that she had to help poor people, not the identified patient of poor people, which often happens to be a person of color.
     We victimize poor people in this country. As an example--when we decide what changes need to be made in transportation systems in this country, it is about how the haves can best be catered to, but never the poor. Even knowing that a great percentage of those who travel on public transportation are poor, we don't even consider them. And I say "we" because as long as I was making it, I didn't always consider them either because if I did, I'd try to dismantle the systemic abuse of them with my bare hands. Instead, I wait until the catastrophe--that last minute problem that looms large, comes fast and furious, and knocks my big ass down. Then I want to say, "Hey, this ain't right." I am indignant. But I have to acknowledge my own culpability in the grand scheme of things.
     I have never had to look for a job in my life. People were always wanting to hire me. Now, I compete with others who have become poor like me. Today there are too many talented folks looking for the same job. Hell, any job will do in this economy. So, what now? I go and try and take the cleaning job from the mother with four kids? In this economy, that is what is happening, too. That's why we want to get rid of "illegal" immigrants. How many of us have actually used them when it benefited us? Come on, raise your hands. Your silence will not absolve you.

Beat up and told to shut.

We are asked to go quietly into the night these days. We are asked to continue to put faith in individuals, some of who are saying that now, if you are on public assistance, you should not be allowed to vote. What the Fu*k? You've got to be kidding me. But there it is. Clamp your hand over my mouth and tell me to shut up, won't you? Well, I won't! I'm not. You cannot make me remain silent or to do nothing. It isn't just about me, it is about us. What will it take? Before the day is through, what will I be able to say I've done?
     I'm going to start with letter writing campaigns to ALL of my representatives. I'm going to start with the President on a daily basis. Perhaps create a Facebook Page called, "Mr. President, Pay Attention to This" and we'll start a daily list of those things that we cannot let go unchallenged. But, I won't just complain. No, that's too easy, complaining. I have to take responsibility for what I do, how and what I buy, what I collude with that continues promulgating the inequities of life here. Part of me keeps hoping that the heart will win out among our representatives--hell, even the person I worked for; that they will see the errors of their ways. But, I had to be taken down a peg or two to be able to see myself. What would happen if we demanded that the cuts they need to make start with them. That's going my first request to the President.  

President Obama. Everyone is Congress has a salary that they could do without. Like this time in Ramadan, it is time for some sacrifices of your parts. Give your salaries back to the people for the next year. Give up your vacations and healthcare benefits, too. See what it is like. Of course, most representatives have stashed money, so this won't really be denying yourself. It would, however, be symbolic. The American people have had enough of being victims.

Wow! That felt good. Going to start this immediately on Facebook as I come down from my Beserker Fury. I titled this blog piece The Setting Sun ... and some my wonder why. Today I woke up with these words in my head and wrote them down immediately.

We should follow the sun until the day is done or we'll lose the light before the setting sun."  

Didn't know what I meant by the words or what those words were saying to me, but now I do. It means I must follow the light--the light of awareness, of understanding, and of hope. I must do the work of God who sends me, while it is day. The night comes when no one shall work. Each day should count for something. It is my hope that I am up to the task.
     Peace!