Important New Findings from the UK:
University of Bedfordshire professor speaks out against 'hidden' child sexual abuse
V-DAY February 14, 2015
Together, we will RISE! Rise for women, rise for daughters, rise for grandmothers. Rise for sons raised without pressure to be violent. Rise for justice for all children who have no voice of their own. Rise for all humanity. Hold our own inner children up to the sky and bid our own souls to rise, rise, RISE. With every shard and shred of my broken heart, I ask you all to rise. For what else are we to do with our broken hearts save to hold them in our hands, and help one another to bid us all to rise.
No more abuse.
No more incest.
No more SILENCE.
RISE.
with love and hope,
Another Mother
Together, we will RISE! Rise for women, rise for daughters, rise for grandmothers. Rise for sons raised without pressure to be violent. Rise for justice for all children who have no voice of their own. Rise for all humanity. Hold our own inner children up to the sky and bid our own souls to rise, rise, RISE. With every shard and shred of my broken heart, I ask you all to rise. For what else are we to do with our broken hearts save to hold them in our hands, and help one another to bid us all to rise.
No more abuse.
No more incest.
No more SILENCE.
RISE.
with love and hope,
Another Mother
These guys can show up at OUR front door any time!
http://www.upworthy.com/what-do-these-scary-looking-people-have-to-do-with-child-abuse-the-answer-is-pleasantly-surprising-5?c=upw1
The Monument Quilt by FORCE is an amazing project whose time has come - and they have made their goal! Please check it out! Thank you.
A Message from Another Mother at One Billion Rising:
For Uppity Women Everywhere
I say
This is your time, Girl,
This is your time to
Love yourself
To love your Cause
To refuse to fear
To refuse to apologize
To up and RISE
For yourself
For your mothers who could not
For your sisters who know not
For your babies who won’t need to
Because you did
Rise, Sisters
Rise
Rise
Rise
And never stop.
I say
This is your time, Girl,
This is your time to
Love yourself
To love your Cause
To refuse to fear
To refuse to apologize
To up and RISE
For yourself
For your mothers who could not
For your sisters who know not
For your babies who won’t need to
Because you did
Rise, Sisters
Rise
Rise
Rise
And never stop.
A Special Word Tonight
May 7, 2013
This is a special message to survivors who might be triggered tonight by all of the media coverage about the three young women who escaped from their captors after going missing for a decade in Cleveland, OH. Because these particular crimes are so horrifying they receive international media coverage, it is easy to forget that they are, statistically, very rare occurrences. The women deserve every prayer, every resource of help, inspiration, justice, and healing that we can collectively bring to them; and the notoriety of the case will ensure that they do receive everything they need. I am glad for that.
For survivors, emotions can be understandably mixed at times like these: we are jubilant and relieved and fiercely joyful that the women and the child are liberated and now can begin the long healing process with which we survivors are so familiar. We are horrified that they were held so long in a busy neighborhood at a house where the police even were on the premises several times. We are heartbroken when we hear that one of their mothers died looking for her daughter, her death no doubt accelerated by the merciless stress and terror she must have endured every day that went by without good news. We are repulsed by the booking photos of the monster that kidnapped and tortured these baby women for a decade – his icy stare revealing the animal glint of pure sociopathy. And, as survivors, we are daunted for these girls when we think of the hill they must now begin to climb – returning after the interruption to their regularly scheduled lives, now in progress, never to know who else they might have become had this thing not happened.
No matter how far along we survivors are on our healing path, days like this yank us out of our serenity by the hair and leave us flat on our backs, wondering what happened to our confident stride toward wholeness. All day long today, as the news cycle masticated each new morsel of delicious drama, I stumbled through a haze of PTSD, my thoughts wrenched back to the terror of our days on the run, our months of waking each morning not knowing
if that day would be our last, and to my terrible first few days of realizing the full horror of what had happened to my precious babies. Days like these make the monstrousness of it all brand new, all over again.
It is not possible to weep enough to shrink the rage and grief down to manageable size.
Today even as I rejoiced that the taken were returned to us, I wept for all those for whom no rescue is coming. I ached for those who will never have balloons and banners on their sidewalks, for the ones who will never get a press conference. For the ones who have no hope of a day in court. For the ones who ultimately must rescue themselves, but will not be able to do so until long after the time for rescue is past.
What saved me today and brought me out of my funk was the same thing that always
saves me on days like this - pure maternal pride; pride on behalf of all mothers who stand and fight like hell for their kids, and for Amanda Berry, who never forgot who she was, who never gave up on herself, who never stopped looking for her chance to escape. This is a girl who knows about her human rights and who never relinquished them, even in the face of what we can only imagine must have been one merciless, endless attempt to annihilate her personhood. She knew she had a right to be safe; she knew she had a right to be heard.
She reached for it. I hope that, whatever your story might be, you will reach for it, too, and never stop.
Be kind to yourself these next days. Go slow. Turn off the TV. Take a walk with a friend. Appreciate yourself for how far you have come. Know that you are loved, and that the love surrounding you is the same love that will comfort Michelle, Gina, Amanda, and her daughter – and will heal us all, in the end.
With love and hope,
Another Mother
This is a special message to survivors who might be triggered tonight by all of the media coverage about the three young women who escaped from their captors after going missing for a decade in Cleveland, OH. Because these particular crimes are so horrifying they receive international media coverage, it is easy to forget that they are, statistically, very rare occurrences. The women deserve every prayer, every resource of help, inspiration, justice, and healing that we can collectively bring to them; and the notoriety of the case will ensure that they do receive everything they need. I am glad for that.
For survivors, emotions can be understandably mixed at times like these: we are jubilant and relieved and fiercely joyful that the women and the child are liberated and now can begin the long healing process with which we survivors are so familiar. We are horrified that they were held so long in a busy neighborhood at a house where the police even were on the premises several times. We are heartbroken when we hear that one of their mothers died looking for her daughter, her death no doubt accelerated by the merciless stress and terror she must have endured every day that went by without good news. We are repulsed by the booking photos of the monster that kidnapped and tortured these baby women for a decade – his icy stare revealing the animal glint of pure sociopathy. And, as survivors, we are daunted for these girls when we think of the hill they must now begin to climb – returning after the interruption to their regularly scheduled lives, now in progress, never to know who else they might have become had this thing not happened.
No matter how far along we survivors are on our healing path, days like this yank us out of our serenity by the hair and leave us flat on our backs, wondering what happened to our confident stride toward wholeness. All day long today, as the news cycle masticated each new morsel of delicious drama, I stumbled through a haze of PTSD, my thoughts wrenched back to the terror of our days on the run, our months of waking each morning not knowing
if that day would be our last, and to my terrible first few days of realizing the full horror of what had happened to my precious babies. Days like these make the monstrousness of it all brand new, all over again.
It is not possible to weep enough to shrink the rage and grief down to manageable size.
Today even as I rejoiced that the taken were returned to us, I wept for all those for whom no rescue is coming. I ached for those who will never have balloons and banners on their sidewalks, for the ones who will never get a press conference. For the ones who have no hope of a day in court. For the ones who ultimately must rescue themselves, but will not be able to do so until long after the time for rescue is past.
What saved me today and brought me out of my funk was the same thing that always
saves me on days like this - pure maternal pride; pride on behalf of all mothers who stand and fight like hell for their kids, and for Amanda Berry, who never forgot who she was, who never gave up on herself, who never stopped looking for her chance to escape. This is a girl who knows about her human rights and who never relinquished them, even in the face of what we can only imagine must have been one merciless, endless attempt to annihilate her personhood. She knew she had a right to be safe; she knew she had a right to be heard.
She reached for it. I hope that, whatever your story might be, you will reach for it, too, and never stop.
Be kind to yourself these next days. Go slow. Turn off the TV. Take a walk with a friend. Appreciate yourself for how far you have come. Know that you are loved, and that the love surrounding you is the same love that will comfort Michelle, Gina, Amanda, and her daughter – and will heal us all, in the end.
With love and hope,
Another Mother
Eve Ensler discusses her new book,
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A husband, father, and grandfather RISES . . .
I rise - to urge fellow members of my gender to get off our collective arses and do something more about violence to women and girls, I rise - to urge all men . . . to transform this culture – this world of violence-that we have helped create . . . in whatever insidious form it takes . . .we have been complacent too long – I’ve been complacent for too long . . . and so I rise . . .
I rise - to support all women . . . especially the one billion women now rising all over the planet who are saying no to violence by dancing, shouting, beseeching, marching, refusing, protesting, loving and whatever it takes to stop sexual and domestic violence, to end the so-called “war on women”because a women’s body is not a campaign issue . . . I rise - to stop one more woman from getting beaten or raped, before one more idiot says “that’s what you get” for wearing those sexy clothes, or for having the audacity to live equally with men or for having the fierce pride to simple be themselves, whoever they are – by choice or otherwise - whatever that may be . . .
And I rise - for one more special reason . . . to support my beautiful spouse, my friend and partner, the love of many lifetimes who put this all together and inspires me daily to be a little more than I thought I could be . . . and so I rise for you . . . and for all our kids and grandkids.
- From Papa Joel (Another Mother's husband)
I rise - to support all women . . . especially the one billion women now rising all over the planet who are saying no to violence by dancing, shouting, beseeching, marching, refusing, protesting, loving and whatever it takes to stop sexual and domestic violence, to end the so-called “war on women”because a women’s body is not a campaign issue . . . I rise - to stop one more woman from getting beaten or raped, before one more idiot says “that’s what you get” for wearing those sexy clothes, or for having the audacity to live equally with men or for having the fierce pride to simple be themselves, whoever they are – by choice or otherwise - whatever that may be . . .
And I rise - for one more special reason . . . to support my beautiful spouse, my friend and partner, the love of many lifetimes who put this all together and inspires me daily to be a little more than I thought I could be . . . and so I rise for you . . . and for all our kids and grandkids.
- From Papa Joel (Another Mother's husband)
