Alittia North–Another Child in the Trash?!

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I tried repeatedly to post the Amber alert for Alittia North. Facebook did not allow it. I can’t tell you why I did not blog about her other than a lack of information and a sinking feeling.

Now the information is grim.

No one should ever throw a child away. No one should ever treat a human life like a discarded gum wrapper.

Years ago I taught in a neighborhood where a little girl was found in a trash bin. There are no words to describe the pain of knowing a beloved child has been treated so abominably. It lowers the value of all human life and raises the haunting question–why?

It seems to me our modern record is becoming mired in the bodies of our children–young, defenseless, abused, and murdered.

Do not turn away. Do not pretend this is some kind of statistical inevitability. In every case like Alittia’s someone did something terribly wrong to a child and…a whole bunch of regular folk did nothing to stop them.

Juror B37

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The money quote from a middle-aged white lady in Florida:

“she did not think the shooting was racially motivated and that Zimmerman would have reacted the same way to someone of any race.”

C’mon people tell me you understand why that is freaking scary.

Not just for Trayvon.
Not just for his gated community.
Not just for Florida.
But for all of us–his neighbors.

Stan Who Had Two Dads

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Dearest Boy,

After I read about you I wrote a bunch of stuff. Then I walked, prayed, and cried. Some people won’t tell your story out of fear; others only out of fear.

But what I am afraid of is this–that no one will be there to heal the damage, that no one will tell you

none of this is your fault, and little of it needs to define you.

You deserve to survive this. You deserve birthday parties and pony rides, rock climbing and ice cream. You deserve to sit at a table with people who see you, know your story, and say I love you, Stan. You are a great kid..

Just because you were raised by wolves…doesn’t mean you are one.

No, dear, Lamb, you are a boy. Loved by a real Dad…the only one who can heal us all from the monsters, smiling in the picture: so broken.

OJ Simpson, Trayvon Martin, and Justice in America

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When OJ Simpson was on trial for murder I worked in an elementary school in a poor, urban area. Most of my colleagues were African American.

We huddled around the tv at lunch to see what was going on. I remember the day of the verdict. Most of my fellow teachers cheered as though their football team had won.

I wondered–

where was justice?

I really doubt that many of them actually thought Simpson was not guilty. What they thought was

life is not fair for black men in America.

It isn’t.

And now we see it not being fair again. We see justice again faltering–this time the victim is African American and the team cheering is white.

This is not a football game.

It is not right for any of us to be so blinded by the outside of another person’s life that we rejoice in their pain, their murder, or their injustice.

Do not tell me God is in charge in the world today if He is not in charge of your heart.

When we bay for blood, hate, and bottled feces in a world shot through with agony and loss we prove we know nothing about love.

And make no mistake. God is not our little Santa Claus, He is not the captain of the white folk football team.

He is love and He is coming soon, with justice in His strong right arm.

That should make us all pray hard. Because not not one of us is holy.
Not one.

A Word for Trayvon

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My heart aches for Trayvon’s family. A guilty verdict would not have summoned him back.

That is what a parent wants when their child dies.

They don’t care where the jewelry came from, they go over and over and over everything that happened… they wish they could have a do-over.

A do-over: keep Zimmerman’s ass in the car…convince the boy to stay home and play a video game…something…something that would have kept him alive.

No jury can do that. No judge can raise the dead.

Which is one more reason for all of us to mourn.

Why Do Women Have Abortions?

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In the struggle for some kind of life in every abortion story one out of every two people loses. A child dies each time.

Why? seems to matter.

The big google-able voices on this subject are funded by rabidly pro-abortion concessions. You will forgive me if I do not trust their stats or their lugubrious attempts to make the death of a child sound like a mani-pedi.

One thing they say strikes me–1 in 3 women have had an abortion.

Wow.

Just as with all abuse of children, the stories of abortion are often the stories shared in community. But we keep them our secrets because we have no adequate forum for telling them.

These are my community’s stories (a fraction, I am sure, of the whole)–

The college student who aborts her child under pressure from her boyfriend who is a cadet at a military academy.

The wife of a professional who aborts their third child because “two is enough.”

The young woman (who was herself adopted) who decides to have a late-term abortion because the baby may be a Downs child.

The teenager who lives in a no-abortion country who flies to the US to abort a child.

The woman who is pressured to abort because her child has a 3% chance of a medical condition. (Multiply this story by at least 4.)

A young professional who lives in a country with family planning laws. She aborts to avoid legal penalties.

The woman who is in her early forties, married, but surprised by a late-in-life pregnancy. She just doesn’t want a child in her early forties…

The untold story of abortion is a story about value and pressure and time. It is a story about how valuable the life of a child is, and it is a story of what it costs to remove that child.

Each aborted child leaves a George Bailey-esque hole in the life of their community.

Why would we sanction that?

And how could we face God if we did?

Is More Better? Polyamory and the Murder of Alanna Gallagher

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Okay….this seems like it should be bigger news than it is.

While I appreciate everyone’s efforts to validate this family’s decision to pursue a polyamorous relationship, I just keep thinking about my latest parenting theory gone bust–

We have resident barn swallows who are very protective of their young. Sometimes the family consists of mom, dad, and babies, but sometimes there is an additional parent–presumably a second adult male.

All the parents are very attentive. I admit I have envied them a bit–thinking that, quite frankly, adult male sexual partners are a pain in the a…, but a super-attentive manny would be nice.

The police seem to be at a dead end in solving the brutal murder of a little girl, but one thing is sure–all three of Alanna Gallagher’s “parents” failed her utterly.

She would have been better off with the barn swallows.

Chilean Abortion Fight

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I maintain that it is a significant social crime–a matter of national injustice, that we are advocates for the extermination of the innocent to the neglect of our children.

This article about Chile seems to offer a window into our problem. A young girl is raped for 2 years at the hands of her mother’s boyfriend and…. it is a cause celeb for abortion?!!

First of all–no psychologist worth their salt should ever, ever focus on a “therapeutic abortion” over the profound emotional damage caused by 2 years of systematic rape.

And second–

If this little girl had had access to abortion there is a significant likelihood that her abuser would have pushed for the abortion and the abuse would have continued.

We are all to be shamed and rebuked if the hypothetical “right to choose” subverts the real right for a child to live in safety and get help when she has been raped.

We are worse than animals if we do not comfort, protect, and bring justice for children who have been raped.

And speaking from personal experience–we don’t.

(Where is that Wendy Davis?!)

Any nation should mourn for it’s very soul if it does not protect all the little children–mothers and babes together.

Predator Warning

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My dog likes his walks, and my schedule usually makes walking possible after dark.

Last night we were walking in a suburban neighborhood in the hill country when I crossed the street toward what looked like a black dog, perhaps the shadow of a dog?

I had not gotten all the way across the street when the animal emitted a loud, threatening feline hiss.

Dog and I made for the opposite side of the street! I think it was a panther, maybe a bobcat. I have heard mountain lions before and this one did not have a typical mountain lion lament…

It was spooky, and even weirder in the midst of houses.

I think I should probably warn the people in the neighborhood. I doubt myself wondering– who will care? Who would listen?

Wendy Davis and the Invasive Procedure

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A British news source recently reported that Wendy Davis wore a catheter during her windy harangue in Austin.

The rules of filibuster are ancient and meant to be challenging. So it is intriguing that Ms. Davis chose to saddle up with what many in health care would call an invasive procedure.

The simple fact remains: ultrasound is a boon to expectant mothers everywhere. How dare Davis thwart the rules of filibuster to fight against a majority vote on the legitimacy of human life?

Davis has continued to ignore my voice here in Texas–as a child advocate and mother, but if she did give me a minute of her time I would ask her where I can send those tiny, empty, pink sneakers?

And then I would say–

Learn to hold your bladder like a big girl, sistah, or relinquish the podium to a real woman who can.