The Trafficking of Women and Why “Me Too” Just Won’t Cut It.

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An estimated 500,000 women are trafficked every year into sexual slavery and even when caught the perpetrators are seldom held accountable. Excused by a justice system that is corrupt, they continue to treat human beings as if they are nothing more than mere bodies for them to do with as they please. Again, in order for these pigs to do what they do, they are supported by people who know what is going on, who see what is going on and who do nothing. They are supported by all the people who pay to use these women, caring nothing that these women are there against their will.

These women are taken and forced into prostitution because they are poor and desperate or they are victims of war and of natural disasters. They have no hope to help themselves and have few options. It is not uncommon for them to be burdened with a need for money for healthcare for themselves or loved ones. We talk about not being able to catch the perpetrators as if that is the answer. Why aren’t we doing more about poverty?  Why is it we are so afraid to peel back the layers of our damaged world, to get beyond the symptoms and address the actual source?  While the fish is great when you are starving, the fishing pole and directions not only feed the body, they feed the soul.  People want the right to self-determine, to create their own lives and make their own choices.  You know, like all of us privileged first world people do.  When did we get to the point where first aid was it.  We arrive at the scene of the accidents, stem the blood flow, and then leave them by the side of the road to die.

THIS is an issue that women should be caring about and speaking to. How dare we complain about inequality and our first world issues when there are women being treated like this. Where is our compassion?? How can we justify our outrage over our right to equal pay and complaining that we cannot buy a new designer purse without a raise in our salary when there are women who just want the right to not be taken from their families and raped every night by dozens of men?  We are outraged by the rich and famous having their “ass grabbed,”  how about listening to the nightmare that these women live with?  And before someone else comes up with some ridiculous, social media sign of solidarity, “me too” campaign, this is a problem that requires real help.  I don’t know that we can fix the damage that has been done to those who manage to escape but I do know that those who are still there right now, have no chance unless we decide that they matter.

I doubt very much that at the end of this life we get to smile and say we helped because we wrote “me too” on a computer screen, or because we burned incense for them one night.  Life is real.  Suffering is real.  This is our world and whether doing nothing may be our most damning crime.

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I Bled on My Favourite Panties.

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I am a woman.

I had periods and bled on sheets.

But my voice does not matter, my voice was not wanted. My message fit in with those who were told they were not welcome to march with the women of the world, so while the march spoke out for women “everywhere,” I sat at home.

I sit with many women who chose a different path than many of those who marched. That choice, evidently makes us all now, women who do not matter. We do not have a place at the table. Our input into important issues is not permitted. We are the women, who are sent to the outer tents when we bleed. We are not allowed to contaminate the others, except our exile is not for one week of the month . . . ours is permanent.

There can be no doubt that we are women. We had mothers and fathers who loved us, we played with dolls, we did all the girl things with the other girls. We went to university or got a job. We married and some divorced, we had kids and some of us grand babies and even great grand babies. We have careers or stayed home. We met situations that were difficult and yes, some of us were raped, some of us abused. Some of us were/are paid far less than we are worth. Some of us have been horribly discriminated against. Some of us are religious. We are rich and poor, overweight and underweight. We are varying degrees of attractive. Some of us conquer mountains, some of us conquer diapers. We are women no different than those who marched. But they told us we were not the right kind of women, and so we couldn’t join them. While they said they wanted “everyone’s” support – that did not include ours. Had we marched, had we said anything, our voice would have been “booed,” because these women are not about love and inclusion … this is just one big mean girl’s party. Continue reading

Our “Not All Women Have Vaginas,” World.

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We have truly slipped over the edge and the fact people are sitting there, conducting their business with their serious faces on, is damn scary.   Remember when you were a kid and something happened and you started to laugh hysterically at how absurd it was and then you realized that no-one else was laughing?  You stop and then try to taper off the laughter looking into the faces of everyone else who is not only NOT laughing, they are looking at you like you are crazy?  Remember that?

That was my reaction to all of this.

We have jumped from individuals who are unwilling to take personal responsibility for their own lives by deflecting and focusing on what is wrong with everyone else and what they should be doing, to entire groups doing it to one another, to now world wide legislation.  People we are talking about controlling our speech and our very thoughts here.  This may seem helpful or some awesome movement to some idiot somewhere but the greater long term cost is going to be immeasurably damaging.   Continue reading

Out Foxed but Never Out Played.

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I went to some lovely Botanical Gardens the other day and took the grand children for a nature walk to explore.  Their mother decided to attend with us so off we went planning on a great adventure.   Among the beautiful flowers and plants were delightful art pieces with whimsy and colour, unexpected lagoons …. and 50 million screaming flying foxes.

Oh wait, 50 million screaming flying foxes AND their feces all over the place.  They were everywhere we looked.  Their guano was dripping off of the trees, signs, plants … and covered the foot path.  Despite the fact their guano is supposedly easily cleaned up with water, apparently the position of flying fox guano remover was currently still open, and had been for some time.  Protection agencies like to tell you that the whole story about guano taking the paint off houses and cars is just a “myth.”  They cover that with blaming the paint if someone has proof.  The bottom line, you are never ever going to win the argument.

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Do You Have A Line In Your Sand?

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I am not an American. I am a Canadian living in Australia but I do understand that the guns in America and the push back by the American people is not as much about the guns as it is a symbol of their freedoms. I know many people in the rest of the world do not understand but I think sometimes we jump into the idea that all those who speak English are pretty much the same. You have to understand the American culture is different than even Canada. You have to be willing to see this from their eyes and accept it is not the same as it is in your country (wherever that is). This is their line in the sand. Do I wish they had rallied behind something else in the constitution like maybe equality? Yes. But they are rallying. It is their fight and I sense that for many, although there are those who are everyone’s worst nightmare about gun crazy hoodlums, they are more committed to the principle of keeping their dad’s old gun in the dusty cupboard in the basement than they are for the actual need for usage. Continue reading