December 8, 2013

Fall semester finished!

I think I will be passing with flying colors again this semester.
My teachers love the effort I put in and I even cut back hours working to study more.
I am registered for spring classes and I have run out of solely online classes, so I will be taking three in-class classes this spring.
IF I can take a full load of classes in the summer as well (depending on what is offered) I may be graduating with an Associates in Arts this summer and moving on to a Bachelors in the fall!  64 credits and *whew, what a whirlwind of a year and a half!!
The WyzAnt money means SO much, as I have been able to cut back on saving-for-whole-semester's-tuition and merely saving for books and paying my living expenses.  I have not been an attentive friend or person, focusing too much on my studies and work sometimes, but I figure in 2 more years I will have all the free time in the world. Hopefully with a degree I can even cut back on working hours and get paid more! (yay minimum wage: NOT!)

I was able to take three days off and go visit my older sister (kalipay) over Thanksgiving.  We hadnt seen each other in over a year and half and it was awesome to be around her again.  We had both changed a lot since our teenage years in different ways.  I am quieter and she is more outgoing, but being together always means a lot to me.  I have said in the past that we are all we have.  With family like this, who needs enemies?!?  Having a sister who embodies the concept of "family" makes all the difference.  Hopefully some day some of our younger siblings will also be able to hang out with us and we can really redeem the years that the locust had eaten.

On that biblical note, I am still in no-man's-land as far as claiming a belief system.  I have enormous vestiges of Christianity, of course, but I dont feel comfortable or okay with claiming it.  Being unable to reconcile a huge part of oneself causes a lot of dissonance.  I am glad to be able to throw myself into education and work and put it on the shelf to deal with at a later time.

On a positive note: I was mentioned on the Homeschool Apostates piece by Kathryn Joyce in the Prospect.
According to people, some of the discussions that ended in the creation of Homeschoolers Anonymous (HA) began from my short essay in WyzAnt!!!  I had no idea, honestly, and while I have enjoyed reading and contributing a small bit to the work being done, I was greatly honored to be one of the reasons that such a great movement began.
I just keep plugging on with life.  Everything will get better and keep getting better, right?

Also THIS!!!!!

November 2, 2013

A Resignation that Doesnt Mean Much

Everyone has been talking about Doug Phillips Resignation and the hidden non-resignation he is not doing.
As a daughter of patriarchy, quiverfull, and with a father who had a "collection" of VF lectures on CD, for whom we bought the "200-year plan" for fathers day, who forced us to read So Much More, and Return of the Daughters at least 5 times the month it came out.... I think I have a valid perspective on the "ministering" that DP and VF have been doing for the past decade.

I have gotten cheated on and I have cheated in relationships.  I was never in a "forever" marriage like DP is in (no divorce, according to their interpretation).  I have seen cheating tear apart my own family.  I also have yet to see my cheating parent truly repent and attempt to earn back my respect.  My grandparents even have cheating in their legacy.  "I come from a long line of cheaters..." (to hijack the country song).

My assumptions on this DP/VF ministries debacle is both personal (from experience) and from what I have know about the ministry.

First of all: he is still making money off of the poisonous teaching he has been peddling for decades.  That in and of itself negates his "repentance" in my mind.
Second, his insistence on his families forgiveness and his new dedication to being at home with them sickens me.  My parent's cheating lost us our whole way of life.  The family moved far away, in less than two months after the revealing of the 3+ years of "romantic and emotional" and who-knows-what-else carryings (just made that word up) on.  I, too, was forced to "forgive."  Then I was forced to respect and honor my parents as if nothing had ever happened.  That is not only a false repentance, but a cruel and evil demand for forgiveness and an abuse of us children's emotions, hearts, and minds.  I am assuming that the Phillips children are facing this exact situation right now.  I'll bet they have no choice, not being allowed higher education, moving out, or independence of thought.  Heck, some of them might even be "willingly" and "eagerly" forgiving.  Stockholm Syndrome at its deepest level.  I know, I was there for a while as well.  But somehow, despite the crippling and suicidal depression I found myself in (results of cognitive dissonance and abuse, I am sure), I was able to realize that my parent demanding respect and honor without real change in attitude, behavior, or intent, was wrong on some level.
I credit this realization with my eventual escape from the chains of brainwashing and mental abuse.  Somehow I was able to realize that this was WRONG and that my parent was not an ounce regretful.  I also realized that after 3+ years (and by their own admission) they would not have ever ended the relationship unless the other parent had called them out publicly.  They had no intention of ceasing this "sinful" behavior.  They in fact derided the other spouse for calling them out. 

For these reasons, I feel more grace and forgiveness towards the children of the Phillips family that for the father.  For the mother I have feelings going both ways.  She allowed this to go on for a "lengthy" time and will probably not divorce him, because of her commitment to the abuseful (made that up too) doctrine that he teaches.  The children will still be stuck in his fenced (think the Berlin Wall) in circle of influence and unable to really process this tremendous admission of personal failure.
Weathr or not he is being entirely truthful about the lack of PIV, (seeing how truthful he is being about stepping down from his position as "minister," and how truthful he has been to his circle while this affair has been going on.... he has two strikes) we have yet to see.

 I sincerely hope the whole truth will come out.
A man of his religious rockstar nature does not fall easily.  This huge admission must have been forced or threatened.  He is doing preliminary damage control and probably attempting to use his weight before it disappears.

In all of this I sigh, shake my head, rub my eyes, and say "it has all happened before."
I am not surprised, but then at the same time I didnt see something this huge as the reason his legacy would be tarnished.  I have a lot to say, but I think this about all I should say.
My patriarch-Vision-Forum parents played this play out before my own eyes.  I hate to see it happening to others.

Looking Ahead: Holidays

Holidays are always a difficult time for me, personally.
Everyone is talking about "family" and I have absolutely nothing that is not negative, cynical, or bitter to respond with.  I have one really awesome family member (my sister) and she is treated similarly.

 I have not been able to communicate with anyone but my mother for the longest time.  Of course, communicating with my father is something I would rather have another pap smear than do.

The other kids chose to believe the parents or are too young.  Attempts to get the only other one who got a GED one into community college or trade school have been somewhat successful. 

"Family" hurts me.  The word, the concept, the idea.  I never understood Dobson's insistence on family meals.  By the time all the kids got served the boys were done with firsts and asking for seconds.  With strictly rationed meat portions, they filled up with veggies and rice.  Some of the younger kids had to be fed by older kids and communicating in front of parents was so fake it was painful.  "What did you do today" has no meaning when one has not left the house in a week and everyone else in the house has been there all week as well.  Hearing my father talk was something we just had to put up with living with. (grammar-less much?)
The idea of a family get-together never held much appeal because of the awkwardness.  My father was openly spiteful about and to his mother-in-law.  He argued with his own parents a lot and the two sets of grandparents were so different in personality and style that having them together was always strained.
Having them apart was always fun.  They would play games and provide some break in routine.  And, my grandfather allowed us to have all the condiments we wanted when he was supervising mealtimes. yay!

But most of all, family hurts because my children were torn from me.  I was not able to stay and care for them.  I was not able to take them with me.  I am not able to see or speak to them.  I raised them for about ten years each and then they were gone.  I cannot fathom the lies they hear about me on a daily basis.
Family hurts because when I look into the future I dont have a model for how I want to be.  I dont have anything to look forward too. 
And the holidays hurt because people naturally assume that you go see relatives and family and have fun and enjoy.  Well, being that my family refuses to celebrate "pagan" holidays they wont be celebrating, and seeing them would put me in a mental state that I have no wish to be in.
Can I just say that I am looking forward to partaking again in mental-health visits when I get healthcare next year? Thanks, Congress and Romney and Obama!  My mental health was always a worry to me.  But I have the feeling that maybe a better brain will be my present all next year.  And maybe the 2014 holidays wont be so painful?

October 7, 2013

Grandchild pt 2

I wrote this post a long time ago when I was upset about my father telling me that God would speak to him and not me because of my gender.

I am having flashbacks to this because the people I babysit for switched their childs daycare to a fundie baptist church/school kindergarden.  I know they are fundie because of the way the women all look like my mom and the younger girls all look like I did.  There are knee-length or longer skirts on every one of them and they have that "meek" attitude about them that drives me insane now that I have given it up.  The men all have that obnoxious "go-getter" attitude and are forced to open the door for women and children (and are wearing ties and collared shirts and/or suits).
  I enjoy wearing pants as I drop the child off and driving into the carpool lane with "I Love This Bar" playing on the country music station.  I enjoy driving off as they shuffle kids to and fro getting paid who knows what (maybe even volunteering their time as a "ministry"). 
I feel a little guilty because a part of my head feels like that should be me doing that (brainwashing kicking in).

But I have figured out what I am going to say to them if they ever dare to strike up a conversation with me:
"No thank you."  Flat out refusal of their values is going to be like a backhand to them.
Because I grew up like that.  And I realized, after years of swallowing the koolaid, when my dad told me that God would not commune with me because of my gender, that all that bullshit about wearing skirts and being the "weaker sex" and guarding men's eyes was just that... bullshit.  None of it was biblical and none of it was supportable in a real-life situation.

Im no grandchild.  If I am a Christian, I am God's child outright and my father is not and never was my "umbrella" or mediator.  If I am religious it is because I find some kind of meaning in it, not because I was raised a culture warrior or taught my Koine Greek or memorized thousands of verses, or know my references by heart.  I am no grandchild, and neither are you.

August 29, 2013

Crossposted on HA!


This was my favorite shelf in the expansive home-library my mother used for school and down time.
Books were my escape, coping meschanism, and delight. 

Unfortunately for me, the nearest library is about 6 miles in a direction I avoid because of traffic (not to mention it is beside a Mega-church with "abortion crosses" and protesters semi-frequently on it's sidewalks).
I am proud to have been cross-posted on Homeschoolers Anonymous Week of Positives.
This is actually the second time, because they also posted my story about being a sister-mom to my younger siblings recently. 
I know what you are saying: I post more on other people's blogs than on my own!!!

August 6, 2013

Hey, Y'all

Ive been getting a lot of views via Libby Anne's Survivor Blogs list, and I wanted to greet them cheerily.

Also, I wanted to update seeing how long its been since I have posted a cheery, upbeat southern greeting.
Seriously, my accent is getting worse because I am waitressing now and I have been told multiple times that customers will get offended if called "guys" (as in "hey, guys, what drinks can I start you off with this evening?" or "How are you guys doing?").

I am finding that waitressing involves a lot more walking and working and the money and hours are never guaranteed. Its hard and tiring and wearing me out.
College classes begin the 15th, and I am very excited for this third semester.  While I did win the scholarship, it does not cover books, so I have been saving up for those as well.
Thankfully I am learning how to balance between renting and buying to save as much $$ as I can (considering that buying them from the bookstore runs around $800 a semester!) and I worked myself to death this week and made $400 for them. (yay!)

Since it has been hot and muggy out I have not had any severe issues with depression or lashing out emotionally.  I have been stressed a lot with work and being physically worn out, but I know it is only for the time being and I am looking forward to beginning classes again.  I feel like I am in my element when I do that and it really makes me happy.
Also, I have been saving up money for a kitty.  I am a cat-lover and I have not had one since I left home.  It does something for me that nothing else does.  I have been biding my time, saving up for the apartment pet deposit, and looking for the perfect ball of fluff to fall head over heels in love with.  I know it will happen and I have been wanting it more and more now that I have a little place of my own.

Life is as life does. 
I keep plugging on.
Its my tenacity.  I will survive and conquer and look down at those who have tried to hurt me and laugh.
..........maybe?

July 21, 2013

Euthanaize the Adage!

I think it is time to put to rest a saying that I have heard more times than I ever care to hear, and a saying that makes me sick to my stomach.  Sick both with past memories and future fears, even illogical ones, because that is something that I will need a lot of therapy and healing to cope with.

We have all heard it: "Parents know best" or some variation thereof.

I have a couple problems with this adage.  First, it is OLD.  Ancient, in fact.  An in the ancient world, it was perhaps a fact and not merely a saying.  Second, it is mostly false.
I can be generous and say that many parents want what is best for their children (definitely not all, not really sure about saying most) and have their children's best interests at heart.  However, in today's world, this saying is most assuredly not a fact and not a truth, and almost nothing but a relic.

This is an OLD concept.  Say three decades ago (the 80s, people!), a parent told their child a blatant mis-truth.  (For instance, "Your mother was a horse.")  The child might believe it for a time, being impressionable and young, but after growing up and learning about procreation and such, the child would find out that their father lied to them.  Other mis-truths that were not so blatant might never be discovered if the child/young person/adult never came across a fact that would dis-prove their parent's lies/deception (for instance: "Gay men are all pedophiles and dendrophiliacs.")
  In the Age of Information, knowledge and fact is everywhere.  A tween has merely to do a simple google search to find information about everything from phlebotomy to graphic sexual pictures and instructions.
A parent's only recourse is to limit a child's world and keep them in a bubble (something homeschooling parents like mine did very well) and keep them socially and worldly ignorant.
Unfortunately for parents: this method will work only as long as the child is a) young or b) chooses to ignore the cognitive dissonance as an adult and continues to live in their parents bubble willingly/through ignorance.
It did not work for me, as I left home (3 years ago, yesterday) and decided to no longer subserviate myself to their goals and designs for me.  (My spell-check doesnt like that word.  lol)

Because people are MUCH more educated today than they were even 3 decades ago and can find out the mis-truth or veracity of anything if they desire, parents are more and more unable to control their child's/adult's personality and choices.  If your child wants to grow up and become a dental hygienist, or conversely if they want to sell artwork on etsy their entire lives: their parents can no longer tell the person (not child) things like "no one makes a living off etsy" because many people do.  Any attempts by the parent to control the person's future are therefore manipulative (and in my opinion sinister and cruel and quite possibly evil).
  Also, while in the past the benefit of experience and age meant something, much of this knowledge is shared.  It is not impossible to find stories going both ways about EVERY situation and choice under the sun.  You want a good opinion of this?  Let me find it for you.  An opinion saying this exact thing ruined someone's life?  A personal testimony hot and fresh off the life-grill.






Second reason: This is mostly false.
  Parents do not know at all times and in all cases what is intrinsically best for their offspring, especially their older and adult offspring.  While genetics are a part of family, each and every offspring you or anyone in this world has is going to be 100% different from them.  Different life experiences, different character traits and combinations, different features, different friends, different, different, different.  Yes, many parents mean well and they sincerely want what is best for their offspring, but unfortunately, the aforementioned parents are also human.  Through their human lens, they can only recommend or steer as they personally see best.  Which can lead to some pretty disgruntled adults, because what your parent may personally think is best may be completely the opposite of what is best for YOU as a person, and individual, and a separate life from them.
  Also, the amount of change capable in one lifetime, especially given my first point above about the increasing availability and openness of information, is expansively more than three decades ago could ever have been.  For instance, imagine a child being told that gays were dendrophiliacs and pedophiles.  Should this person grow up to have homosexual desires, they would have trouble with their identity because they had no tree-urges and therefore could not identify themselves as homosexual.
  However, a person in a similar situation today has merely to pull up wikipedia to find out that dendroplilia has nothing to do with being hetero or homosexual, and they can also explore the Genderbread Person Model and figure out for themselves exactly how to be themselves, despite their parents mental, religious, or ancient ideologies regarding gender and sexuality.

I say: Lets euthanize this adage!!
It pre-dates the age of information (which disproved things once taken for granted, like Pluto's planethood), and it is no longer the case in a world where people are more free to choose their own way earlier and earlier in life.
While it may still apply in some cases, it is definitely no longer true for the majority, and it is in many situations blatantly wrong and hurtful to those who have been at odd with their parents.  It gives complete strangers an ability to tell you you were wrong in your choices for yourself, because they assume that in all cases, all parents are better at deciding their children's lives and choices than the child/person/adult themselves.
Also, saying that the "meant well" is identical to saying they know best.  I know of quite a few cases where the parents do NOT mean well.

Finally, think about this real-life situation.
A 29 year old woman, whose parent's have authority over because of her medical situation and IQ. 
Do her parents know best and mean well when they call her delusional and want her isolated, unable to get the job she wants, and in a place she is not meant to be?

June 16, 2013

F-Day: I Want An Apology

I suppose I should say something patronizing and politically correct right now about the ones that do it right and the ones who really are good and shit.
But I dont feel like it.

I am boycotting facebook today because I really cant handle all the mushy "my dad is the beeeest dad eeevvvuuur" stuff people are posting along with pictures of when they were little with their dads.

All the pictures I have with my dad are in "ministry" or in family pictures we took once every 5 or so years; reminders that "god" and his ministry and his "testimony" were more important than me.
Oh yeah, and that pesky little affair he got into!
What a great example of a Father.

  Did I ever mention that he apologized to me only once for that?
He uprooted our while family, causing us to move thousands of miles, losing all contact with our only friends, forced us to live in an entirely different culture (it was only home for him and my mom), moved us around frequently for 3 years, unable to stay too long in any one place, and then picked a situation where he was uniquely unsuited to settle.
He again tried to be the leader of a religious group, except the independent Americans weren't used to being told how to worship god and they shied away from him like wood splinters from a swinging axe.  They all could see that he lacked grace, and come of them tried to tell him that, but he laughed in their faces and called them pant-less men who were being controlled by their overbearing wives.

He frequently made me feel ashamed for the genes that he gave me (and his side of the family) and told me to exercise and "get out" more.  I would serve myself food and he would chime in (sometimes from across the room) "A moment on your lips, forever on your hips."
He boasted about my intelligence, telling me that by studying at home I could be fit to debate down any newly minted "Youth Leader" graduating from his alma mater: Liberty University. (he scorned youth leaders because many of then started out as Pastoral majors and after enduring one semester of greek decided to downgrade to a less demanding degree)
I also learned that judgmental and cruel attitude towards others and spent years making more enemies than friends, influencing no one before I realized what I was doing.
After all, I was only following the example set for me by my Father.

I never asked for anything because he never had money.  He worked up to 7 days a week to feed and clothe 9 kids and a wife in a country with a steadily failing economy.  I was not allowed to leave home without a chaperone or get a job, so I served as a free maid after I finished whatever school I had left to do.
And I felt like it.  I was expected to be able to control (without being allowed to enforce my commands) my 6 younger siblings and to cook and clean up after them each day (to my mother's specifications of clean).
Is it any wonder I escaped to the internet?
He spent time on the computer too.  And because he was the man, he could force any one to leave what they were doing so that he could check his email and stalk random people on facebook.
I cannot forget the one time a friend (who made some decisions with her life that my father did not aproove of) commented on a status update I made and my father took it upon himself to tell her she was not welcome to comment on my updates and that she should never speak to me again.
He was always setting an example for me.

So please, dont take this as a bitter, selfish rant from a disgruntled daughter.
I would love to want to have contact with and see and spend time with my father.
Reconciliation is always the golden nugget we hide in the bottom of our hearts.
Dont tell me to pray for my father: because I know for a fact people who have been praying decades for some kind of honest change in him have told me that as well and my father has remained consistently impervious to all of it.  Obviously, it doesnt work and hasnt worked.
Or maybe they are praying the wrong thing.

What I want on this F-day is for my father to call me and apologize.
Apologize for the spiritual and mental abuse he inflicted on me and my siblings for most of our lives.
Apologize for the choices he made and for what consequences those choices had on his vulnerable and innocent children.
Apologize for his consistent refusal to listen to his children and for shaming them and hurting their hearts by his callous attitude and cold-hearted patriarchal stance.
Apologize for the threats and hate he has volleyed at his adult children who moved away, ran away, or were kicked out of the house by his "standards."
Apologize for the poison planted in the minds of the younger children against their older siblings because they were too young to understand everything that was going on and were not told the truth.
Apologize for the alienation and refusal to support except for the guilt-tripping "I love you" texts every 6 months or so that basically only tells you that he hasnt changed and he wants you to feel guilty.
Apologize for making the lives of his adult children agonizing because of his refusal to sign FAFSAs, teach them how to survive in the adult world, and give them any kind of support or positive reinforcement.

And finally, and apology for being such a bad example as a human being and as a father.
I am pretty sure I/we his kids deserve this.
And until I get this, I am not going to wish him a "happy" day and pretend that everything doesnt matter.
Because it does matter.  And no amount of sugar coating can cover the gangrene of the bad example he continues to set every day.

May 30, 2013

Today's Topic: Modesty is about Pricks

**warning, frank speech in plain terms


I know, *insert sighs and groans* because "modesty" is a trigger word used to condemn anything that is too tight, too short, too thin, or to "sexy."

But have you EVER thought about what that really means?

This blog post; which is very personal, real, and moving brought up a whole new side of "modesty" for me that I had never contemplated before.
When the man asks her to sit down because some boy is "doing things," what is he saying?
He is saying that the boy's penis would not be erect if she were sitting down, or wearing more clothing, or (perhaps preferably) not present.  Really, he is telling her that she needs to submit to some strange, pubescent boy's penis.

THAT BLEW MY MIND.

Modesty, as it is forced upon women by the fundamentalist, jean-jumper, skirts-only, shirts-two-sizes-too-big culture, is all about men's pricks.  Because some man might get an erection from you wearing pants, or from seeing your ankles in sandals, or because your shirt had too big of a neck.

I mean, of course they dont say it this way because talking about sex is taboo and I didnt know what an erection was until I was about 21.  Young girls, it is when a man is sexually aroused.  His penis stands away from his body.  You are NOT trying to "protect the minds of your brothers in Christ."  You are actually trying to not be in any semblance sexual, so that they do not think of anything sexual when they see you.
Ie: the more shapeless, asexual, and invisible you are, the better it is for the men.

Because men cant help it?

Helllooooo, I was taught basic logic even though I was not taught anatomy.

Seeing a chocolate cake does not give a man an erection.
Spending a day in the park does not give a man an erection.
Seeing a woman in pants does not give a man an erection.
Seeing a woman in a bathing suit (one or two piece) does not give a man an erection.
Seeing a woman's V-neck shirt does not give a man an erection.
Seeing a woman bend over does not give a man an erection.
Seeing a woman's breasts does not give a man an erection.
Seeing a woman naked does not give a man an erection.

How can I say this?  Well, because seeing is only that.  Your corneas are sending information pixels to your brain.  There is nothing sexual about pixels.  What causes an erection is a MAN thinking sexual thoughts in his mind.  His body (having evolved to survive and propagate his species) responds to the sexual thoughts by bringing his penis away from his body to better penetrate his object of sexual lust.
Men are not helpless when their corneas unwittingly allow pixels of women to fly to their brains, they are CHOOSING to sexually objectify that woman.  The woman could be doing something as innocent as showing an ankle underneath her voluminous dress when crossing the street, and a man could sexually objectify her.

It is not something women can control.
Because you, as a person, cannot control any person other than yourself.
It is not something women can prevent.
Because you can never predict all the fetishes and turn-ons in the world, and there are more every day!  Unless you never see a man, you cannot protect all men from yourself.  Which leads me to say:
It is not something women are at fault for.
If anything, it was the fault of whomever fashioned women to be so sexually attractive to men (and vise versa), and it was an evolutionary necessity to keep the human race from dying out.  You cannot change being born a woman, (well, you actually can, these days) and you cannot change having a womanly shape, and you cannot stop that from attracting men, as men are attracted to your pheromones as much as they are to your shape(s).
It is not something women should be shamed for.
Seriously.  The message I hear over and over from the "modesty, purity" camp is: Woman, you have a body that attracts men.  For shame!  Cover up and hide that attraction.  Do not have a body.  For shame!

So that's it: modesty is about keeping men from getting an erection.
 So modest is about women preventing blue balls, somehow
So modesty is nothing more than men's penises deciding what women do or dont get to wear or show or cover or have.

Strange, when I put it in those terms I suddenly dont have the urge to ever want to be called "modest" again.

As I told someone I used to know this evening:
    I have decided personally that I will not be a slave to any man's penis.

May 21, 2013

TeenPact – My experience (and a lot of parenthesis)


   My mom saw a poster for it on the homeschool group's website. It was being promoted a lot since it was the first year that they gained access to our State. I think I was the ONLY student there who wanted to attend. Amid all the testimonies of hating the fancy (and modest) clothes, hating civics, and it being a struggle to not listen to music or watch television all week, I wondered what was wrong with all these other homeschoolers.

   Yes, I had a lot of pride, but I was raised thinking that homeschooling was better than public school and it was unfortunate that public schoolers could not get a 4 day crash-course of in-depth politics training on a state level. I reveled in the homework and the required modest clothing and I had no problem with the rule about media because my media consumption was already incredibly minuscule. The rules about guy-girl interactions was not a problem because of how strict my father was, and all of the guys there were younger than me and not that appealing.
   I also had a family background in politics (2008 was an election year and my grandparents and older sister were so caught up in the whirlwind that my leaving for so many days was a big deal around the house) which made me the student who knew it all.
And that was a problem. My whole TeenPact experience I was either patronized by staffers and administrators, or I was the problem that they had to deal with and work around.
   One of the staffers inserted a rabbit trail push for John McCain votes/support (we were all too young to vote anyway) and I piped up (in the middle of class) about his immigration bill and his history of non-conservatism. That got me an extremely dirty look from all staffers and I was ignored every time I raised my hand after that...except when no one else knew the answer. (I was down for a couple in-kind contributions to a campaign, so I knew what they were. None of the other students did.)

   I definitely stood out in the class as the only student to ask the Aide to the First Lady (She was also a high-level judge) what (the Judge/First Lady's) stand was on abortion and how she would deal with cases to repeal Roe v. Wade. (I was also very ignorant about how the real world worked. I spouted what I was taught with passion and sincerity.) I was the only one who knew what an “ex-post facto” law was and my team won the Constitution Game because of my knowledge of the Constitution. (Literally, a staffer had to help the other two branches because Congress blew them out of the water.) (Both years!)
And, when I went and visited the 3rd year (I was unable to attend due to financial constraints –and more on that later) the whole alumni class asked that I be allowed to participate on their team. Their requests were turned down by the less-than-amused staffers.

I was completely gung-ho about TeenPact after my experience. I was effusive in my praise and I thought it was the best thing I had ever experienced and I wanted to attend ALL their other offerings.
Unfortunately, TeenPact is a rich, middle class thing. You pay your own way for everything. And “everything” is not cheap. You get an experience, the opportunity to meet friends, meals, and a T-Shirt. Often the events are far away and even staffers have to pay their own transportation. Housing is an extra cost on top of the $200-$300 event. (Unless it it its own event, like Endeavor or National Convention, which raised the price tag to $400 or more.)

   The first year I was in TeenPact I won a scholarship to go to National Convention and found a last-minute ride from Maryland. It was a 750-1000 word essay on What Does it Mean to Be a Conservative.” Reading over it now it is a huge mess of right-wing idealism, including a rant about government distribution of wealth. Back then, I was so excited that I could hardly contain myself.

   I spent the week in a mix of pride, boredom, and frustrated anger. There was an obvious problem with popularity. The kids who had staffed multiple places had a huge edge over people who had staffed only their home state or not staffed at all. Their actual personalities were often sickening, but they still received the most votes and applause (or the elections were rigged in their favor). While there is a lot of discipleship and depth in the core groups, a lot of the event was fluffy and I was bored by the big speeches, only broken by the funny skits and attempts at making me play “The Game” (you just lost). Huge promotion of the Ultimate Frisbee tournaments annoyed me, as I was never that in to sports, and all attempts I made at throwing Frisbees resulted in everyone laughing and pointing. I would spend the afternoon wandering the camp looking for people in my group who might not be already with their cliques and might want to do something with me than gawk at Adam whats-his-name in a pink shirt playing with "The Bojangles."
   Because it was the first year that my state had ever had a TeenPact class, I was the only one from my state in attendance. I made a laughable attempt at running for Congress (and was one of the few late entries who actually paid my $10, to my knowledge). My contribution to much talked about and poorly attended silent auction was a necklace set that I hand-made.  It was made fun of for not having a more political or state relevance. (I think, I hid and refused to tell them that I made it)
   The only other person I found who was really a “kindred spirit” was a guy, and as I was not “allowed” to crush on him or spend any time with him without someone else there (I didn’t know anyone except staffers, and I followed the rules that I saw many of the “regulars” breaking) we never really got to know each other very well. Interestingly enough, he is the only one of any of them that I still keep in Facebook contact. And, through him I got to know a couple who are now some of my good friends.

   I came home from National Convention tired emotionally. I felt suddenly like TeenPact was not the marvelous place I had once thought it to be. I felt left out and unwanted by the very group I would have given my talents to willingly and eagerly. Unable to afford any other event that year, I began saving what little money I had in order to attend the State Class next year. I also applied to Staff, but I was turned down, which I almost expected. After all, I had spoken up and contradicted a staffer and made myself stick out. I paid for my alumni class all by myself, as my quiverfull father did not have the funds to spend on me for a second year. This is notable in that I was not allowed a job and made this money over the course of a year of saving odds and ends that came my way from neighborhood cleaning or babysitting jobs or from family members. I had no way to MAKE money, so spending that much meant a lot to me.
   I aced the alumni class, again proving to have put the most into the assignments and again leading my branch to victory in the Constitution Search. (When teams were picked everyone asked to switch to my team.) I made an effort to work my hardest and to not cause any issues. I was trying to prove myself as a competent person who was a good candidate to staff her own state. I was also at the upper age limit and I knew that this would be my last class.
    I wanted to attend Endeavor that year, but I was not able to make enough money and instead looked at the perfectly lit pictures of the other girls having a High Tea and shooting guns in a field thinking about how nice it would be to be able to have that kind of an experience. But their middle class families could afford the airfare or gas, the dresses, the makeup, the scones and high teas, and the price of the event.  My father made about $40,000 a year for a family of 11.



   The last year I spent in my home state I applied again to be a staffer and I was turned down again. One of my fellow classmates was accepted, though, as he had gone to National Convention and Survival. He also said that one of that year's staffers had pushed really hard for him. It figures, the staffer I had interrupted my first class was now an Intern (albeit he never came back to my state).
 

  Now, over 5 years later, I look back on it all with a sigh and a shake of my head. I was young and passionate. I had a lot to give and they turned it down. But in the end, I was the one better off for it. I left that state and have since been able to mediate my passion with real knowledge of the world and the incredible amount of variety and complexity in it. I no longer have “pat” answers to everything and I think I am all the better for it. I also refuse to accept their misogynistic belittling of women. I believe I have the right to wear a pair of dress pants instead of being relegated to a skirt. I think that I have just as much ability and knowledge as any male, as they refused to allow women to be an Intern for more than one year. Men could do it for two years and then if they excelled, they could go on to be a program director and have their own gavel made for them. I acknowledge that I could definitely be a Mayor or a President, which position they never elected a woman into. It was an interesting coincidence, if it really WAS a coincidence.
I refuse to think of myself less because I did not have the money that the “TeenPact Families” (ie. the blue bloods) had to host events and send their kids to staff 5 states and run expensive presidential campaigns with the paraphernalia, candy, and free T-shirts.


  I have saved only my first state class t-shirt with all the names on it. The names are mostly faded and can hardly be seen. I have de-friended most of the Interns (or been de-friended) and have since hidden most of my TeenPact pictures and videos. It is a chapter in my life that I do not regret, but do not like to announce. I prefer that no one remember me or pick me out as one of them. I regret being so conservative and blind. I do not regret getting away and changing.
And I hope that people who read this think twice about endorsing a misogynistic group that exists for the wealthy middle class republicans to indoctrinate their children. They also get together groups of students to do grunt work for HSLDA.  Read about that scandalous mess here.
 

March 11, 2013

Miscellaneous

I found a new job through the college website and began training last week.
Its at a 24h/7days a week emergency pet hospital.  I do front desk work like admitting patients, taking payments, filing, faxing and printing files, cleaning, and all the cleaning and maintenance on the lobby.
It is very demanding and they hold a high standard, which I like because I feel like they appreciate me more for trying hard and they hold themselves to the same standards and goals.
I have a head start with a basic knowledge of medical terms and prefixes and suffixes.  I learned on Friday night/Saturday morning how to read nursing sheets and I am starting to identify medicines and diagnoses.

The only hard part is that I come in to work at 2am and work until midday.  When I have a couple days back-to-back I get home and sleep until 9sh and then have a couple hours in the evening.  It doesnt leave me much time for schoolwork, but thankfully this week is spring break and I have a couple days to get used to the new grind.
School and work is going to be a doozy until I can conquer the new learning curve.  I also found out that the schoolbook I bought for one class may be an older edition and does not have the new information for me to take a test on.  I wrote the professor and asked what my options where (getting a copy of the material, getting tested on a different section) but I really dont want to buy a new book for one last module.
I havent been feeling 100% either most probably due to the stress of getting fired, the emotions and struggles of finding a new job, applying and getting turned down, finally getting a job and then the learning curve and push to do 110% even on your first day.... besides tests and grade worries and just the battle of everyday life struggling to find motivation for every day.

I swear, sometimes it just a victory to force myself up in the mornings!
But each small victory and all the little steps are what make the victories and the achievements, right?

One of the really good parts is I get to see, spend time with, and pet animals all day.  Mostly dogs, because cats are a lot more skittish in the ER and hospital situation and need caging.  Dogs are usually a little more confident (or overconfident) and are alright on a leash out in the treatment area.
Why, just last night there was this Great Dane that was almost 4 feet tall and probably weighed around 70lbs.  I spent a bit of time talking to her and petting her and calling her "horsey".  Right across to the next treatment area (about 6 feet) was this small Chihuahua (about 1.5 kiloes and not more than 8 inches tall at the most) shivering and waiting for his the test results.  On any busy day there will be euthanasia and pets bleeding all over the waiting room and the receptionist rushing around from one emergency to the next trying to damage control and keep people happy and clean and complete paperwork and protocol duties all at the same time.
What can I say?  I wont ever get bored, I wont ever run out of work, I wont ever be fired for lack of emergencies, and my job is really something that is necessary.  Comforting and reassuring frightened parents/owners and greasing the wheels of the operation.  I think I will be very happy where I am.....


...once I get my sleep schedule ironed out!!

February 27, 2013

Link to a post about PTSD

 WARNING:  This May Trigger You.

This amazing post about PTSD is very long and has a lot of "meat" in it.  I found myself agreeing (sadly, almost) to all of it.  Some poignant quotes below, some things I have felt but have not had the words to express. 
She is a fellow survivor with the voice that I do not have.

I don’t want people to see me or hear me this way and I don’t want to have to fake that this is not how I’m feeling. (I can fake it pretty good, by the way, it’s just exhausting to do so.) How would I explain “I’m having a bad day because of the ghosts of the past?” 


 I have a problem with “auto-insubordination,” while it’s happening, in that I just don’t listen to my own self telling me what to do. I give myself responsible directions and I don’t take them. I don’t take care of myself when I feel like this. (I figure this part of the emotional flashback might be about somehow “recreating” the conditions I lived in as a kid) If I can, I stay home in pajamas, don’t brush my teeth, don’t make myself breakfast or lunch. If I can’t, I go where I have to go. I watch the clock. I waste the day. I can’t concentrate on tasks. I accomplish little. I don’t feel hungry. I just get a headache from not eating and then go eat something with carbs or dairy in it, preferably both.

February 24, 2013

Anew

I am on the edge of accepting a job.
I found a really awesome Customer Service position at an Emergency Veterinary hospital.
It is very interesting because I would not only be answering phone lines and taking payments, but I would be admitting patients and checking them out like in a hospital.  And, not any kind of patients, but animals.  Dogs and Cats whom I love.
I spent 4 hours there yesterday seeing a cat being euthanized because it had fluid in its lungs and wasnt able to breathe on its own any more.  I saw an old hound dog with a protrusion out its side bleeding on the floor, biting its owner who tired to wipe the hole.  I saw owners in tears and owners happily reunited with their pets after being assured that they had stopped having seizures.

I loved it, and I know I would thrive there.
I am just all torn up inside about actually taking a job and going out on my own like this.
I initially accepted my first ever job out of sheer necessity: They were the only ones to actually want to hire me.
I have never had to make the decision on my own to move forward or not based on my wants.
It is overwhelming, and upsetting, and exhilarating, and mind-bending, and scary, and wonderful, and a new step for me, and a giant cliff that I have just decided to jump off.

Who knows?!?!

Maybe I'll get my Associate in Business Administration and then become a Certified Veterinary Technician like I wanted to be as a little girl.  Maybe, could be.... anything.
Its all an open door to me.
And that is life anew.