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LadybugFlights
 November 2011 Vol.13 #11

Special Feature

This month's Special Poetry Section features poet
Patricia Rose Gilles. Patricia Rose has a new book and has been in here before. I think you will enjoy seeing her again and reading her book
Echoes of the Moon Flower.
Poetry 
	
Hare Krishna
		


I saw her.  Surrounded by flowers.
Clusters of them in small white plastic pails.
She was sitting, I don't recall on what
With her head bowed.
I was driving past her
On the other side of the street
Going somewhere else.
It was a sweltering day.  I knew this
Because my windows were rolled down
And the heat assailed me through the sun-baked glass of the windshield.
It mingled with the smell of gas and engine.
No air-conditioning. That's how I knew
She was not meditating.  She was overcome
With temperature.  I kept driving with a new destination in mind.
Miles up there was a convenience store.
I went into the store and laid my coins on the counter.
I took the ice cold bottle of pop and left the store. 
I didn't know what kind of soda she favored or even if
She was allowed to drink this kind of beverage in her religion.
I headed back in her direction.  
I made a U-turn when I got back to the corner and parked
On the grassy shoulder, two wheels in the ditch.
I walked towards the slim girl with the dark brown hair.
Sweat dripped down my face and formed rivulets between my breasts.
I didn't say a word.
I handed her the cold pop.  She smiled.
She didn't say a word either, but I could see
A light in her eyes, elation, gratitude.
She turned away from me and bent over one of the
Synthetic buckets and pulled out a red carnation.
She handed it to me and smiled again.  I smiled back.
I turned to leave.
She was Hare Krishna.
I was a Catholic.
And from that moment, I believed in her God
And she believed in mine.
The God within our hearts.


		
		
CLOUDS IN THE WIND

		

Her face is like clouds in the wind.  It changes
from expression to expression as she looks at
me and smiles.  Her smile is like the golden
snowflake on my Christmas tree.  Her eyes are
the colors of peacock feathers.  Her lips are the
color of cerise and her hair is the color of
fire.  She takes my hand and leads me to our
bedroom.  I sit on the bed and quickly divest
myself of my clothes.  I lay down and watch
her do a shy strip tease for me and she climbs
into bed and crawls under the covers.  She
snuggles next to me.  We lay close enjoying the
scent of our bodies.  Then she turns over and
begins to kiss me.  Her tongue flits about as
I plumage her mouth.  Her lips meet mine in
prayer supplication.  The kissing sizzles like the
open end of a live wire and flesh ignites into
a thousand flames.  I scroll down her body and
seek between her thighs that place my mind
remembers that feels like butter and taste like
goat's cheese.  I touch her mound as I lick her
rose pedals focusing on the bud.  I curl my
tongue around her bud and her breathing
quickens.  Her body bursts into little
contractions.  I slide my finger into her moist
cave and feel the silkiness.  She spreads her
legs and she offers me her circumference.  I hilt to
her cervix and see her smile while bathing
myself in her lagoon.  She turns over and I
ease myself in and stroke her body with long
languid approaches.  She turns over again and
I settle her on my penis.  She holds me in like
a queen.  I touch her breasts and she becomes
liquid.  She pours herself out on me and we
have a monumental moment of intimacy.  My
head is in her clouds as I gaze lovingly at her
expressions.


	
COCOON II
		

	
Silken fibrous refuge
I go to you in naked need. 
Incorporeal kingdom.
Where nothingness is safe and
	Nourishes my anorectic soul and pain-wracked body.
Arms of soil and grain
Invisible to the eye,
Wrap around me safeguarding my vulnerability.
You are impregnable my cocoon.
You are chrysalis
	To my wound.
My spirit, a whisper with no breath.
Your breath,
A land breeze over my parched
And quiescent form.
Painful psychalia.
	Silent screams.
I am too weak 
	To open my mouth
	Expose my hunger.
I am slender 
Sucked dry by a life that runs too swift
	For my tired feet.
Dark fatigue.
My soul will not rouse.
Eyes closed,
I refuse to see.
I am pupa
Covered
My fluid is your blood
	Which seeps from your wound between my lips.
I cannot receive but by transfusion.
	Transformation.
	Metamorphosis.
Tiger moth. 
	I crawl my winters,
Exhausted.
I burrow into you, my cocoon, too weary to smell
	The balmy breeze of spring
Or feel
	Summer's torrid radiant heat.
You are my sun, 
Inside a hollow log.
	Under a leaf.
	I am hanging without hands,
	From a twig.
You are the twig.  You are the branch.
Silken fibrous refuge.
My asylum,
My surety
Shelter
I am in your custody.
You will not manifest yourself to me.
It would disturb the delicate changes
	That you are creating
			Within me.
Grace.
Conjugality
I am bound to you and
You are bound to me.
Suspended, for a time.
Sanctuary.
I rest in you, in-between myself,
	And my true self,
The one I will be
	When I emerge.


		
		
TEACHING OUR CHILDREN

		

I brought my four-year-old son to an inner
City drop-in center where the poor are served
A lunch, given some groceries and can pick out
Some clothes from the used garments that
Are donated by the wealthier.    Years later when
He was a young man, he saw an alcoholic sitting 
On a curb who was freezing from the cold.  My son
Gave him his jacket and the man was more than
grateful.  Sometime later he saw another man 
out in the cold without any coat on.  My son gave
him his jacket too.  Ben delights in being able to 
buy drinks and meals for his friends.  He opens
doors for people and listens intently to what 
people say.  He walked a mile to get oil for his car 
when it stalled one frigid night.  He tucked Emily
his sister and me under some sweaters that he 
had in his trunk and trekked off on a stretch of
highway.  He didn't have any boots on and my 
gloves wouldn't fit him.  He came back in a half
an hour with a can of oil.  Ben can create a party
with a gathering of a few friends.   Every Christmas
he has given me some of the most thoughtful gifts.
His cards are always signed, "I love you mom".
You never know what might trigger a memory 
That becomes a belief.  You never know when 
Your kids are watching you live your life seeing
You as truth.  And you never know what it is that
Translates to them into love.  




Poetry








TWO PEAS IN A POD
		

I call you and your name echoes through
the purple red blossoms of the  sweet pea.    
My memory of you is clear like the gossamer
wings of a dragonfly.  I listen for your voice
and it changes resounding like the tuning of a
piano.  I can't find you in the maze of melody
and redolence.  Tell me where you are hiding?
So that I can sip the nectar of your sweetness.
I  miss you.  Do you miss me?  Do you still
love me?  Catch my breath and open yourself
to me.  We lived in the sweet green pea pods
next to each other and declared our eternal love.  
But the pod has split and there I am hanging by a
stem wondering when you will be coming back.
I am sheltered by the absence of your radiance.
I am protected by a stalk hanging high above
the brittle ground.  I am waiting for you.  My
hope surrounds me and my heart longs for you
to nestle beside me once again.  Tarry not.  
Come to me.  Proclaim your circumference.

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Featured Article

Dancing in My Dreams
from Mary Verdi-Fletcher
President/Founding Artistic Director of The Dancing Wheels Company & School

Featured Article

If you can dream it, you can do it! During each and every performance, that is the message that I have wholeheartedly conveyed to hundreds of thousands of children with and without disabilities around the world. So of course when The Dancing Wheels Company & School proudly celebrated our 30th anniversary during our 2010/2011 season, Dancing in My Dreams was the title that I choose for a full concert performance celebrating this momentous milestone. The evening featured a full-length Dance/theatre work, created by renowned choreographer Dianne McIntyre, as a tribute to this occasion. The dance work was entitled "Dancing On A Dream"…. dreaming being the optimal message for having survived and thrived for three decades. The dance was set to various genres of 80's music, and originally was slated to reflect the 30 years of the Company, but it grew into a much broader piece delving into my entire life. The piece was so passionate and poignant that tears welled up in my eyes as each scene unraveled, telling the story of a child born with a severe disability, teetering near death on several occasions, who would rise up to be America's first professional wheelchair dancer and later to pioneer the concept of physically integrated dance worldwide.

As the dance crystallized, I looked back over the difficult times as well as the wonderfully joyous moments in my life, realizing that it was those experiences that not only molded me into a strong-willed, determined individual, but it also helped shape the mission and integrity of the Dancing Wheels Company & School. My grandmother said that I was born "with a tear in my eye and a smile on my face" and she knew that I was destined to do something very special in my life. As a young child with spina bifida, I spent over a year confined to my bed suffering from medical issues. I remember making a pledge that if I ever got well enough to get up and start moving that I would never waste a minute of my life. I have to say that I have made good on that pledge! As an advocate, I captured busses to make them accessible, I helped to write legislation on behalf of the disabled community, and I still work 24/7 building, administrating, and implementing programs and performances for the 50-70 Dancing Wheels tours a year!

The concepts and structure of Dancing Wheels grew out of my great love of music and dance, as well as my desires to advocate on behalf of people with disabilities in their quest for independence. My mother, a professional dancer, and my father, a musician, fostered my desire to dance with their stories and adventures of when they danced in the Vaudeville days; it all seemed so romantic and wonderful. I have recollections of my mother holding me up with my little braces and crutches when I was just 3 years old at a family picnic, helping me to sway to the music, and another time when she asked me to show the nuns the "Mexican Hat Dance" at a shrine where we devotedly prayed! My mother would even turn on records and create dances so that my brother could lift me in the air and bring me down into a deep lunge. Although I was quite fragile looking, I managed to break brace after brace swinging and swaying to music. It was later when I broke my leg in several places that resigned me to a wheelchair. It initially seemed so awkward (at that time wheelchairs were 55 pounds, I weighed a mere 65 lbs), and it took many years for me to recognize that I might be able to use the wheelchair as a vehicle for motion in dance. But the desire to dance was so incredibly strong, in my mind I could not sit still; I just had to move. In my dreams, I would envision how I would dance if I were not disabled.

I was fortunate that this was a time when social dancing was quite popular, as it is today with all the dance shows on television. I was invited to try and experiment with my non-disabled friends and saw that it was a bit like skating but with feet and wheels moving in tandem with one another. It embodied speed, grace, and fluidity. Night after night we practiced after work until others were asking if they could dance with me too. Soon we put a routine together and my partner and I entered a nationally-televised dance competition. It did not occur to me to state that I was disabled on the application (my disability has always been secondary to my identity), but when the day came to perform, a producer from the show and an audience of more than 2,000 people were absolutely stunned to see a person in a wheelchair in a dance competition. The silent audience stared in disbelief as we took center stage, but the music started and "It's Raining Men" was performed like never before! Our routine concluded in a smash ending with my partner jumping onto the armrest of my wheelchair and jumping over my head. The audience rose to their feet with excitement and we were chosen as runners-up to be on the show. We were flooded with television interviews, newspaper articles, and call after call for performances. We performed; 72 shows our first year!

In 1990, Dancing Wheels became affiliated with the Cleveland Ballet and from there training and collaborations developed. By then, myself and my full company of dancers trained in modern and ballet and worked to refine what we term as translation i.e.: movement that is both developed from a non-disabled dancer and applied to a wheelchair dancer or vice versa. We have direct and indirect translation that helps the Company to look like a strong closely knit ensemble of stand up and sit-down dancers.

Equality, opportunity, and knowledge would be our mantra; we would use our artistry to entertain and educate audiences globally. We would tell the stories of equal rights for all mankind through our dances and we would create signature pieces from renowned choreographers throughout the world that would excite and inspire those with and without disabilities. We developed a school where children and adults with and without disabilities could train together. Today we have a repertory of over 45 distinctive and powerful works that serve in a myriad of ways. Not only are our pieces created for concert work, they are also excerpted for assemblies and residencies to fit curriculum-based programs in schools. We utilize our artistry to demonstrate the diversity of dance and the abilities of all people.

The artistic possibilities are endless and with the revolution of new technologies in wheelchairs the ability to do even more challenging and daring work is better than ever. Last year we were presented with the nation's first dance specific wheelchair, the Twirl made by Top End, a division of Invacare Corporation. This chair is brilliantly named as it does twirl on a dime and is so lightweight that my partners can pick me and my chair in the air together!

Over the 30 plus years, we have had many challenges to overcome; architectural barriers in performance spaces, stereotypic attitudes about who should or can participate in dance, and of course the availability to train in a field that has historically only been open to "able bodied individuals". It is hard to believe that at a time in which the American's with Disabilities Act has opened up opportunities for inclusion and other freedoms for people with disabilities, that a wheelchair dancer cannot obtain a dance degree at the majority of universities and colleges across the nation. Equitable dance training is not available because teachers and department heads just do not know how. Noting this over the years has led my long time partner and friend Mark Tomasic and I to develop the first training manual on the methods and techniques used by the Dancing Wheel Company & School for the past 30 years. Mark, a former Company member, choreographer, and teacher, has spent more than 15 years entrenched in the practice and study of physically integrated dance. Led by his passion and desire to see this form of dance made available for dance students with disabilities and their non disabled counterparts, dance teachers, therapists, and families looking to involve their children in inclusive recreation, Mark used his thesis project as the catalyst to create a highly intensive step-by-step training manual and accompanying DVD.

It is our legacy to insure that every person has the right to fully enjoy and participate in all aspects of life, particularly in those areas where people with disabilities have historically been shut out or denied access. Dance is one such area. People with disabilities deserve the same rights and opportunities as non-disabled people to train and be employed as dancers. The opportunities, the tools, and yes, the dream to get there is in our hands.

Coming SOON! PHYSCIALLY INTEGRATED DANCE TRAINING: The Dancing Wheels comprehensive guide for teachers, choreographers and students of mixed abilities
People with disabilities have made tremendous advancements in their acceptance and inclusion in all aspects of society, particularly in the last half of the 20th century. In 1990, the passage of the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) assured "equality of opportunity, [and] full participation" for people with disabilities (U.S. Department of Justice, 2009). While equality of opportunity can be provided through modification of devices or equipment, (i.e., an elevator for a person who is physically unable to climb stairs, or a book translated to Braille for a person who is blind), providing full participation is a more complex undertaking replete with innate challenges and rewards. In Making an Entrance: Theory and Practice for Disabled and Non-Disabled Dancers, Adam Benjamin, Co-Founder of London's physically integrated Candoco Dance Company, notes the discrepancy between providing equal opportunity and full participation in regards to dance training for people with disabilities: "Today, with more and more schools and public buildings being made accessible, the future debate in dance is no longer going to centre on the concrete steps that lead up to the studio, but on the technical ones that confront the disabled student when he or she gains access" (2002, p.8).Now that people with disabilities have gained equality of opportunity through physical access to locations where dance activities occur, how will full participation be provided? While advances have been made in regards to curricular development and teacher preparedness, opportunity for full participation in the arts, particularly in regards to dance training and performance for people with disabilities, remains critically lacking.

The growing need for formal training and dance degree courses to keep up with developments in the performing arts is articulated by Jürg Koch, Assistant Professor of Dance at University of Washington, Seattle, "The lack of accessible and accredited training stands in striking discrepancy to the growing presence of performers with disabilities and the demand for trained and qualified performers (both disabled and non-disabled) to join companies with an established integrated practice and repertory"

While some higher education dance programs in the United Kingdom offer inclusive dance training, Sarah Whatley, Professor of Dance at Coventry University suggests that, "very real challenges are faced in providing the necessary support for these students [students with physical or sensory disabilities], particularly on courses where there is an emphasis on practical (technical and creative) skill development" (2008, p.3). The lack of available opportunities for people with disabilities encompasses not only dance training in higher education but also inclusive dance practice for all ages and underscores the need for the materials provided in the Dancing Wheels physically integrated dance training manual and DVD.

Considered one of the premiere arts and disability organizations in the United States, The Dancing Wheels Company & School has reached over 4.5 million people worldwide through performances, school assemblies, residencies and workshops. Dancing Wheels has over 45 pieces in active repertory from nationally and internationally renowned choreographers. The variety of the work encompasses character driven story ballets, minimalist modern pieces, and dance theatre works which speak directly to the disability experience. To meet the demands of this diverse repertory, Dancing Wheels' dancers train using multiple methods including modern dance, ballet and physical conditioning.

These training methods are highlighted in the Dancing Wheels physically integrated dance training manual and DVD which offers a unique synthesis of artistic and scientific disciplines toward the advancement of dance training practice for dancers with disabilities, their non-disabled peers, and dance instructors. The training practice includes a blending of methodologies developed within the Dancing Wheels Company & School over the past 30 years along with modern dance concepts and principles, scientific research regarding the physiological parameters of wheelchair users, interviews of current and former professional dancers from the Dancing Wheels Company & School, and consultation with a physical therapist.

Read this feature from past issues.

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Comics

Comics

You can see more by David Donar at http://politicalgraffiti.wordpress.com/.
(We love your new header, David!)

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Special Feature

Signs of Life
from Georgia Jones

Special Feature

 

The final installment of this full-length novel will appear next month. thanks for joining us. All of Signs of Life is available at the Kindle Store.

 

CHAPTER XVIII

 

Lainey had decided to become a detective. She had made that decision based on her belief in things outside of the seen, apart from the everyday. Now she was a detective. At least she had an ad in a newspaper that said she was; and she had two clients. It had not been an auspicious beginning, even she had to admit. She had helped to stop Billy Bartman's reign of terror against Linda and her family, and, though it might be flattering herself to think so, Lainey thought that she had made a difference there but it had not been without cost or without help. Of course, if she had a client in that at all it was Billy Bartman himself, and she had helped to put him in jail.

She had not returned the child, Mayin, to her mother, though in thinking about it now, she wondered if that had ever been her assignment. Things were not as clear or simple as she had imagined they would be.

When Andi stormed out her door, and probably out of her life as well, she had assumed that it was over, that the case was ended. It was not working out that way. She could not get it out of her mind. She replayed the scene with Andi in her mind, looking for hints. That was what a detective was supposed to do; detect? She could not just leave this thing, this child, without knowing the answers. She would go to the tambor.

It was dark by the time she left for the tambor, but she was only a little behind schedule. She locked her door and made her way down the stairs to the boarded door to the street. She could not see out the door now that the window was gone and she had an instant of panic as she realized that she was, in every way, walking into the unknown. When she pulled the door open, she was startled by a dark figure standing on her front steps. It was Andi.

"You're right." Andi said, and Lainey had the feeling that Andi had been there, outside the door, waiting to undo what she had said upstairs. "You're right. It is my responsibility."

They took a bus to the house in the Bayview.

The door was opened by the small, gray woman, and Lainey looked knowingly at her downcast eyes. You might well be embarrassed, she thought, tilting her head imperiously and followed the woman as if she were meant to be served by her. The woman showed them to the main room which was full of people, men and women and even some children. Mayin was probably here. Lainey strained to see into the crowd.

Would she even recognize the child in this gathering? Everyone there was dressed in white. The women wore wide swirls of white skirt and white blouses, with white shoes. And the men were dressed in white pants, some only knee length, and white shirts, and they, too, wore white shoes or were barefoot. The women wore white scarves, tied at the front of the head, slave style, and some of the men wore panama hats. The contrast of all of the white clothing against the many shades of skin gave the scene color and life.

The gathered people formed a circle around a central figure, everyone swaying to the beat of three, large drums which were set off to one corner and were played in sequence. Some of the participants wore heavy strands of bead or shell necklaces and bracelets. Over the head of the crowd Lainey could see swirls of silver metal, swords being swung and twirled in the air. She could even hear the sound as the swords deftly parted molecules of air.

Andi and Lainey stood at the opening to the room and watched. Where was the Santera woman, Anna Fernandez?

The insistent beat of the drums went into and through Lainey. It was difficult to retain her western distance from the rhythms. The alternating sounds, which seemed to call and then to answer, called out to her and her body wanted to answer. Everyone was swaying and chanting in the Yoruba language which sounded excitingly exotic and, at the same time, familiar, clapping their hands with the beat of the drums. The room was hot and full of strange smells. It was oppressive with the smoke of the black cigars that were omnipresent. Lainey felt faint. Her arm throbbed with the music. She grasped at the memory that she was here for a purpose. And then she saw Anna Fernandez coming toward her through the crowd.

Anna's single strand of beads was lost in the rows of shell and beaded necklaces she was wearing now and her arms were heavy with bracelets. As she walked the crowd gave way, moving slightly but respectfully aside so she could pass. She smiled and held both hands out for Lainey to touch. Anna Fernandez greeted her enthusiastically but ignored Andi, even pushed aside Lainey's efforts to introduce the two women.

"You are not pure and must not enter Ile`-orisha, the house of the gods, but you may remain here, where you can see. The great Santero, Juan Escobar is giving this tambor to thank Chango` for the rescue of his goddaughter from the power of the Palos." Anna looked at Andi then, a chastening look not open to conversation or debate.

Before Lainey could ask for more of an explanation, a voice from the center of the circle boomed "Asi`!" and Anna turned back to the gathering. The drums stopped and the room was silent with expectation. "Asi`, food! Asi`!" the voice boomed again, followed by a deep, indulgent laugh.

"Aluya`" and "Chekete`" were whispered around the room, and Andi tapped Lainey's arm and interpreted "Food and drink for Chango` - Cabio Sile." When she said this last she rose up on her tiptoes and then down again in a kind of subtle bow.

"You know?" Lainey questioned her. She had assumed that Andi was as ignorant as she was about the religion.

"I know," was all that Andi said, but she leaned forward, anxious to hear what was happening, and to see into the crowd. After a moment she caught her breath and bit her lip. Lainey realized that she must have seen Eugene. Which one was he? There were too many moving bodies to tell which had caused Andi's reaction. Which one is Eugene? Lainey wondered what kind of a man he was to be so hated and so loved by the same woman, because Lainey could see that Andi still loved him.

The drums resumed their hypnotic beating, and the crowd, which had moved inward to circulate around the central figure, moved back again. Lainey could hear the voice addressing various members of the crowd. She could not imagine what the person behind such a dominant yet kindly voice would look like, but she hoped to catch a glimpse as the crowd shifted to the drum beats.

The hypnotic drums, the voices, the strange words, everything in this overheated space seemed familiar to Lainey. She had never been to a Tambor. The thum, thunka, thum beat felt like her own heart. That was it. The sound was inside her. She remembered the chanting. Lainey paled, realizing that it was a Santero who had spoken to her soul that day at the bus stop and that it had stopped when Chango` whispered to her from the thunder.

"My stepfather is a palero judi`o." Andi said, startling Lainey back to her purpose. "The Palo cult is not the same as Santeria, but it is the same in some ways. Palos worship the dead. In Santeria the dead must be honored before the gods, but in Palo… I think they are almost the same, the gods and the dead. Palero judi`os, like my stepfather, use the power of the evil dead, suicides and murders and such, to do magic. Eugene went to Brazil to be raydo, cut, by my stepfather. He was greedy for the power of the dead, and wanted to be a Pai de prenda, a palero, more than he wanted anything else, even me."

"Then, when they found that Mayin was to be a Santera, they kept her to be initiated as a palero as well. That has to be done first because the dead always come first. As a Santera with a Palo initiation, she will be very powerful."

"And you didn't approve?" Lainey asked to provoke Andi into continuing.

"No. I don't approve, but I would have stayed. I was going to stay and try to protect her from them except my stepfather knew how powerful she would be and wanted her for himself. He threatened to cast a spell… Anyway I left her there with them. There was no hope for her then."

Lainey could see how hard this was for Andi, but she needed the whole story. Before she could ask for more, they were approached by a young woman dressed in the purifying white of the tambor. It was Sonia. She was overheated and her face had a rosy, glazed look that made Lainey think of high fevers. "Chango` will keep Mayin from Pappa, and Eugene will protect me." She smiled at them and drifted back to the part of the room where the voice could be heard laughing. Andi glared after her.

"My stepfather was so consumed by the power he felt from Mayin that eventually he even made Eugene leave, so he could have her to himself. Anna says that Eugene has changed, rejected Palo, but I don't believe it." Andi laughed, but there was no humor and no joy in the sound. "My stepfather… "

"Your stepfather," Lainey repeated half-aloud. He was the voice in her head Lainey knew that now. She was certain. Was he still there? She had not heard the chanting since… but did that mean that he was really gone? She tried to focus on what Andi was telling her.

"Yes. He had plans for Mayin, and no one is going to get in his way, but Eugene is determined to get her back. That was why he needed Sonia's help." She laughed again, a hard, unsympathetic sound. "Sonia was 'Papa's darling'. He pampered her almost to death, gave her anything she wanted-anything but what she really wanted, that is. Sonia wanted to get away. She just wanted to come to the States. That's how she got involved with Eugene. Poor thing."

The powerful voice was no longer across the room, and the shifting of the crowd and its sound, made Lainey think it might be coming toward them. She would get to see, she thought, and she was unreasonably happy in the hope. The crowd parted and a man was walking toward them. He was large and firmly muscled. He wore the white of the tambor, but it was trimmed with a red sash and on either side of his body were hung a pair of silver sabers. He was smiling at her over a bowl filled with a greenish, slimy porridge he carried in one hand and a cup he waved carelessly in the other. He gave the plate to a nearby follower and thrust his freed hand toward Lainey who merely stood in shock and awe, unable to move.

Anna Fernandez was suddenly at her elbow, whispering to. "The Orisha has chosen you. It is a great honor." She said.

Lainey held her hand out to the man, who took it in his.

"You much beloved of your mother, Oshu`n. Oshu`n be mi akpetebi`, my favorite sweetheart. You much beloved of Chango`." He laughed heartily and released her hand. When Lainey's hand was released to her she found a single red bead had been pressed into her palm. Anna Fernandez was obviously impressed.

Lainey watched as the man moved away, across the room again, followed by a throng of admirers. Lainey felt a desire to follow, too. She could hardly take her eyes from the powerful image. Was he really Chango`? It was Chango` who had removed the chanting from her soul while she stood waiting for a bus in a thunder storm. She knew.

When she could think again, Lainey reached for Anna's arm to hold her there until she could get some answers.

"You said the tambor was to celebrate the rescue of Juan Escobar's goddaughter from the paleros? If that's true, then she's safe, and you don't need me?" Lainey demanded.

Anna looked at Andi directly then, and Andi looked, self-consciously, away from her eyes.

"She is safe, for now," Anna said.

"Someone has to die," Andi exclaimed, a note of hysteria in her voice. "Someone has to die or the paleros will always have power to take her back."

Lainey was stunned. Who would die? What did they mean? She did not want any more to do with death. She looked to Anna for answers and found only an impassive stare.

"We are not Palo. We do not deal in such things." Anna pulled away from Lainey's grip and moved, in time to the drumbeats, back into the room. Lainey stared after her. What did they want her to do? She had to get away, away from the hypnotic sounds and the oppressive heat and smell of the room. She turned to go outside and found that the old woman was standing behind her. The woman smiled a smug victory as Lainey hurried toward the door. Andi followed her and the two of them stood in the cold and dark of the stoop listening to the muted sounds from inside and shivering with shock and chill.

"She is a devil child. She'll be dedicated to Kadiempembe, to Satan. My stepfather is a very powerful and evil man. There's nothing I can do for her." Andi stated in a stubborn way that made Lainey feel that all hope, all hope for everyone was lost. That she had lost it because she did not have an answer.

Lainey watched as Andi hurried away from the house. She wondered if she should leave as well. There was nothing she could do, nothing anyone could do, as far as she could see to help this child. Maybe Andi was right, maybe the child was cursed.

She shivered in her light jacket. It was cold after the heat and emotion of that room. She wondered, again, who the wondrous man who claimed to have Chango`s spirit had been, and looked at the bead she still clutched in her hand to make sure that it was real. It was.

 

CHAPTER XIX

In the bright sunshine of the next morning Lainey found it hard to believe that the night before had happened. All of the recent days with their gloom and darkness seemed like mere dreams, bad dreams. This morning, this was what life was really like. She looked out her window at the clear light and sparkling air that was the city after a period of storms. The other was just some dark imagining. A sharp pain in her arm as she combed her hair reminded her that it was real. All of it was real. Even last night was real.

"Someone has to die." She remembered Andi's words. The light was not as clear or as liberating as she had thought at first. She detected the feel of darkness at its edges. And then, as if in answer to her thoughts, a cloud crossed the sun and the day was, indeed, covered by gloom.

"Someone has to die." What did that mean? Was someone to be murdered? Sacrificed? And who was this someone?

As usual in this case Lainey found that answers only generated more questions. She felt that she was getting nowhere. Maybe she should quit? Leave Mayin to those who understood what was happening? Maybe…

Her thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of the telephone.

"Hello," she answered tentatively, afraid that it was more entanglements.

"I'm sorry to bother you. Rosalina and I thought we could handle things ourselves. Marty told us to try, but…"

Lainey was so relieved that she could not wait for Greta to finish her sentence. "I'll be right there!" she interrupted. It was as if she had been given her life back.

The bus, the corner where she always got off, the teal awning with its gold lettering below, the smell of skin and hair preparations all reached out to her and whispered in comforting tones "home." It felt good.

Thanks to the intervention of a Sunday, she was not as far behind as she might have been. Still, the backlog of work was a challenge she relished. There were clients to contact and suppliers to prod. With Marty away they would be shorthanded, but it was not his first absence-before Robert left for the Army, they had often traveled to Act Up demonstrations and she had always accommodated him. Andi was there, but she seemed to have understood that Lainey would prefer to behave as if nothing had happened between them. That was Andi's choice, as well. On the surface at least, everything was normal. Lainey could have kissed Greta for calling her. Even her arm felt better.

She threw herself into the work as if she had been away for centuries. She cleaned the papers out of her desk, discarding the outdated ones and separating the others into categories. She sorted the toys in the back room, putting them into the toybox by size, and then she rearranged the supplies on the shelves in the back. Her sudden burst of energy caused quiet concern from Greta and Rosalina, and even Andi, though none of them complained or even acknowledged that they noticed the way she was tearing through the shop, scrutinizing and disrupting everything. Even the clients noted that Lainey seemed to have caught the spring cleaning bug. Yes, she was bursting with energy, but her friends wondered what would happen when she wound down.

The bell on the door dinged around noon and Sonia came in. She looked upset and started first toward Andi, but changed her mind and came over to Lainey instead.

"Can I talk to you?" she asked. Lainey noted a slight shudder in her voice. Had she been crying? Lainey took her into the back room and pulled the curtain behind them.

"What is it, Sonia? Has something happened to Mayin?"

"Why is it always Mayin?" The girl answered, her dark eyes blazing with anger. "Everyone is taking care of Mayin and no one cares what happens to me at all."

Lainey had thought that Sonia was happy to be in the United States, and that she had no real problems besides the aggravation of being between Andi and Eugene. She had seemed so carefree and enthusiastic about everything American that it was hard to picture her as she was now, nervous and pale.

"My father wants me to come back. He's angry that I helped Eugene take Mayin, and that I left him." Her look was one of real fear.

"He's still in Brazil, isn't he?"

"That doesn't matter. Don't you understand? He can get me whenever he wants to! He has powers."

Andi came through the curtain then. The half-sisters stared at each other with a mix of understanding and animosity.

"I told you not to get involved with Eugene," Andi stated flatly.

"You're just mad because he loves me now," Sonia shot back, and Lainey almost ducked. Maybe she should leave the room? This was not about her case anymore.

"I don't care who he loves, if he can love anybody. Besides we both know he doesn't love you." She went on in a kinder tone, "And you don't love him either. You're just looking for attention." This last carried more than a hint of petulance.

"Why can't you just understand and help me?" Sonia whined. "Pappa wants me back. Eugene says he can keep me here, but I don't know if he's strong enough."

Lainey was impatient with this talk of powers. Why couldn't these two work things out without all of that nonsense? She smiled to herself. That was what people were always saying about her beliefs.

"Don't be silly. Do whatever you want. You always do." Andi's response was spiteful. She knew that Sonia had not always had her way, and that the power of her stepfather was more than anyone could withstand, but right then she did not care. "No one pushes little Sonia around!"

"Don't. I can feel him. I can feel him right now…" Sonia started crying and Lainey moved toward her to offer comfort, but Sonia was hysterical by then and ran out of the room and the shop. Lainey and Andi looked at each other. Each of them would have liked to blame the other, but there was nobody to blame. The problem was larger than their individual feelings. It was no longer just Mayin, but Sonia, too.

Lainey wandered out to sit at her desk. The sense of relief and purpose she felt there was gone. With the slamming of the door as Sonia had rushed out, Lainey's energy of the morning had drained away and the darkness returned to engulf her. Whether she liked it or not, she was involved. She could not just walk away. She could not excuse herself by a simple declaration that there was nothing she could do. What she had already done was to involve herself, give her silent pledge that she would do whatever needed doing. That could not be ignored now just because it was easier. This was her case, Lainey Hunter. There was no going back.

She leaned her injured arm on the desk and covered her face with her other hand. There was no going back, but how could she go on?

The telephone rang. It rang again. The caller was probably someone wanting an appointment to get her hair done, but Hunter used this phone, too. The possibility that it might be something more than could be dealt with by "Yes, Mrs. Smith, we can certainly accommodate you next Tuesday at two" was too strong. It rang a third time, but Lainey could not pick it up.

Greta reached across the desk and lifted the receiver. After a questioning glance to see if Lainey had really meant to answer it herself, she chirped a cheerful "Good afternoon. The Hair Shop," and stopped to listen.

"OK," she responded to the caller, "well, mostly OK. Lainey's here." She offered the receiver to Lainey with a hopeful smile. "It's Marty," she coaxed.

Marty? Lainey's first thought was of disaster. Had something gone wrong? Was he hurt or in jail? And then she was overcome by relief. Marty would make her feel better.

She was wrong on both counts. He was not in any sort of trouble, but he was not going to be helping her either. Marty was calling to say that he was going to stay away for awhile.

"There are too many things at home right now, too many signs of death. It's better if I stay away. I've found a job." He sounded enthusiastic, but Lainey could not feel happy for him.

"It's with a musical review, Ladies of the Bright Lights. I'll get to do hair for Bette Midler, Carol Channing, and maybe even Betty Davis… Not the real ones of course, but better, if you know what I mean. And I've found a place to stay."

"Do you want me to send your things?" Lainey asked, resentfully. It was not fair, she should be glad that Marty had found something, but she did not feel very generous right then. "Should I rent your flat?"

"Only if you see this as a chance to get rid of me." Her tone was too belligerent for him to overlook, even as a friend.

"I'm sorry," she said, chagrinned by her own behavior. "I just feel that I need someone, and you're going away."

"I know." There was a long pause before he went on. "I just have to get away from the dying… for a while."

How could she have been so selfish? She lashed out at herself.

"Becca…" He began.

"Becca can't help with this, besides I'm a grown woman."

"You need someone to take care of you. This is about Hunter isn't it?" he demanded.

"Uhm." She could not form the word yes, it was too embarrassing. "I know you told me so," she answered, defensively.

"It doesn't matter what I thought, or think. It's your life, just like you said. You shouldn't have to be alone in this though… How about Detective Martinez?"

Lainey laughed, "What about him?"

"You know what I mean. If anyone could help Hunter, he would be it."

"I'll think about it. Do you need anything from your apartment?" she said, changing the subject. Everyone seemed to think she needed someone to take care of her. Did that make it true? No, she was not prepared to accept that. What was Hunter all about if not proving that she could be something other than her father's daughter; that she could do something without her grandmother's money or Becca's influence? Well, she was doing it. It was not easy but she was doing it!

Marty seemed so far away, so separate from her problems, that Lainey suddenly felt that she wanted him to hang up, that he did not really know her at all and the conversation, which really had no meaning to her now, should be over, that they should be starting on their opposite paths as soon as possible.

"I'm not kidding. Are you listening to me? Get the detective to help you. He likes you, you know?"

Well, that just showed how far from her world Marty had drifted. The detective liked her? "That's a laugh."

"All right. It's none of my business. I'll send you a list of things I need as soon as I get a chance to think about it. But, Lainey, don't ignore what's out there. You have a life. Give it a chance."

Why did he do that? Why must everything come back to reminders of death?

"I'll miss you. Be careful." She could not imagine her life without Marty, not even short term. How would she ever cope without him?

"I won't be any more careful than I have to be. Honey, I'm alive and I plan to live as long as I am!"

"Damn you! I hate it when you're braver than I am," she teased, but she meant it too.

"I plan to live a long time. There's nothing especially brave about that."

He was going to live. He said it, and she believed him.

As soon as she hung up the phone, she realized that she had said goodbye to a friend last night, just as Elinore had said she would. Lainey was grateful that there had been some warning. Elinore seemed to know more about what was going on in her life than Lainey did. Perhaps she would know what to do about Mayin, and now Sonia.

"It looks like everything here is back on track," she announced to the room in general as she got up and reached for her coat.

Andi put down the spray she was using on her customer and hurried to catch Lainey before she could get out the door.

I do not want to talk about this anymore, Lainey thought, clenching her jaw. "When I know, you'll know," she headed off Andi's questions.

"Sit down and wait a minute. I'm almost finished," Andi hissed the order, and it was an order.

Lainey was shocked into compliance. She had underestimated Andi's willingness to become involved. It was more her concern than Lainey's, but she had behaved as if it was the other way around, until now. Anna had said the child's mother had to be involved. This was the closest Andi had come to answering that description. Maybe there was something that could be done after all.

Lainey sat down in one of the chairs just inside the door and watched as Andi went back to her customer. She smiled, chatted, and finished off the final touches of her hairdo in a matter of minutes. Andi looked and acted as if nothing was wrong. Lainey could not help but admire that.

When she had finished, and pocketed her tip, she quickly cleaned her station, got her jacket, and approached Lainey. "We can go now," she said, as if the whole thing had been her idea from the start. Lainey did not know whether to be pleased or irritated but she followed Andi out the door.

Outside, they turned toward the bus top. Walking silently, side by side. Lainey wondered if Andi knew where she had planned to go, or if they were following some new plan of Andi's. Maybe it did not matter. Sometimes it was necessary to do something, and anything would work as well as anything else, just so something was done. Lainey was sure there must be a name for this phenomenon. She had seen it happen often enough. Was it more a matter of decision than of action? Did Andi need to decide to act like Mayin's mother for the effect to work? At the bus stop, Andi looked to her to say which bus they would get on. She does not have a plan, Lainey thought. That was just as well, because Lainey did.

When they stepped down from the bus, Lainey turned blindly, automatically, toward the house where Elinore lived. She had gone only three or four steps before she realized that Andi was not following her. She turned slightly, to call over her shoulder for Andi to hurry and noticed that Andi had stopped. She stood, frozen, in front of a man. He was well built, dark hair, a smooth, oval face that was fresh and childlike, except for the heavy moustache. He stared back at Andi, patiently waiting for her to break the spell through movement or sound, but she did not.

Eugene! Lainey screamed his name inside her head. Eugene.

The man turned and looked at Lainey, a smile of recognition on his face. So this was Eugene. Lainey liked him, but that was not the same as trusting him. That would take time, and she was not sure they had time.

"They're waiting for us." He said, and held out his hand to Andi who still stood where she had stopped. Andi took his hand and the three of them went on to Elinore's house. Once more, the door was open, and they went up without knocking.

There was no one to meet them at the top of the stairs, so Lainey led the way into the turret room. Elinore and Anna were both there. Elinore sat in her chair, her back to the city, and Anna stood next to her, one hand on Elinore's slight shoulder and the other, a large black cigar gripped between its fingers, was on her own hip. She had been smoking the cigar and the room was fetid. Lainey had never liked the smell of smoke, especially cigar smoke, but now it made her sick and dizzy. She reached for the support of the couch and lowered herself into its cushions. Her head was spinning and the room appeared to be shrouded in fog. What was happening?

Andi and Eugene, still hand in hand, walked toward the Santera and, as they approached her, Anna Fernandez began a chant. She suddenly had a flask in her hand and lifted it to fill her mouth with liquid. Anna sloshed the liquid around the inside of her mouth then sprayed the couple with a fine mist of smoke and liquid squeezed from between her lips. Then she chanted again. Elinore nodded and smiled.

Lainey tried to get back to her feet. She wanted to get Andi out of the room. She did not know what was happening, but Andi was her responsibility. She brought her here. She would not let anything happen to her! The floor wobbled and she sat back down. Elinore nodded again, this time toward Lainey, and smiled.

"You've brought the child's mother," Anna confirmed to Lainey.

Andi suddenly pulled free of Eugene's hand, and turned to face Lainey. "Someone has to die," she screamed and Lainey could not tell if it was warning or lament.

"No," Eugene stated, and reached for Andi's hand. "I will not allow it. The iyalocha will not allow it." He looked to Anna Fernandez, who nodded her assent. "Our power together is stronger than his. No one has to die. Mayin is safe," he said, confidently. There was something odd in the way he said it, as if he knew.

Lainey looked at him critically. She looked from Eugene to Elinore and then to Anna. They all looked so peaceful, as if they believed that everything was and would be all right. Why did she not feel as relieved as they looked?

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Our guest columnist this month is Barbara Berger, author of Fast Food for the Souland other books.

 

The Incredible Power of Mind

When we being to understand that all our experiences are mental experiences we also begin to understand the incredible power of mind. So with this in mind, let us examine how we can use this power more wisely-because this is the big issue. It's really not a question of whether or not we are creating our own experiences of reality, because we are. Rather it is a question of how we are doing it and what experiences we are creating. Because like it or not, we are creating our experiences every moment of every day.

This is because the most basic law of mind is thought is cause; our experience of reality is effect.

For most of us, this process, the way our thoughts create our experiences, has been an unconscious process until now. But now we are waking up. Now we are beginning to catch brief glimpses and actually see how this process works. We are beginning to see the mechanism… and it's fascinating, fascinating because this understanding is not just mind-boggling, it's also very empowering. With this new understanding, we begin to realize that we actually do have a choice. We actually do have a choice in each and every now moment as to how we are going to use the incredible mind power that has been given us. Are we just going to habitually fall into our old programming? And keep repeating the same old negative, stressful thoughts and patterns? Or are we going to be mindful and observe what's going in our minds and then use the full power that is given us to step back and question the validity of our thoughts? Are we going to ask ourselves if the thoughts we are dwelling upon and entertaining are in anyway true? Especially now that we know that whatever we are thinking and believing with conviction, we are also projecting and thus experiencing in our lives… as our life.

If you are reading this, I know that the answer to this question is already yes! You've already made up your mind and you're ready. Ready for the best game in town! Because yes, this mind game is the best, most amazing game in town. Quite simply because it's the only game in town and because it's the game of your life! So nothing could be more important or more exciting. And once you get the hang of it, nothing can possibly be more rewarding either. To see and understand the way your mind works and to realize what this understanding means for you.

Because it means you can change! It means you can live a happy life now-no matter what your life circumstances are! Now I realize this is a challenging statement-but it is true nevertheless. But don't believe me! Study the way the mind works and find out for yourself if it's true. All I can tell you is that in my experience, it is true.

One thing I do know is that every single person alive wants to know how to live a happy life. I've been many places and talked to many, many people and everyone says the same. Everyone wants the same. We all want to live happy lives no matter what our life circumstances are. No matter how young, old, healthy, sick, rich, poor, we are. And we want to live these happy lives right here, right now. That's everyone's deepest desire. That's what everyone wants. You, me and everyone else. We're all the same. We all want the same. To experience the happiness, the infinite goodness, that we all know is our birthright.

And when you understand the way the mind works, you can do it because you have the key to living a happy life in your hands. It's so liberating to know that only you can decide how you are going to use the incredible power of mind that has been given to you.

So that's the deal. You're the master, whether you know it or not. And isn't that just wonderful, and lovely, and incredible, and doesn't that mean that your life-and everyone else's life-is an amazing adventure? Because what will you do next? What will you choose next? You never know until you do it.

And this is why it is so vitally important to understand the choices we have - to understand the mechanism and the many ways in which we can use the power of our minds a bit more wisely.

So let the adventure begin!

For more about how to use the incredible power of mind to live a happy life, see my new book The Awakening Human Being - A Guide to the Power of Mind.

Barbara Berger is the internationally known, best-selling author of Fast Food for the Soul (published in 30 languages), Are You Happy Now? and The Awakening Human Being - A Guide to the Power of Mind which was just released in the US and the UK. The book can be ordered on Amazon.com. Find out more about Barbara Berger.

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Caring Parents, Caring Kids

I know a family, whom I’ll call the Givers, for whom giving is second nature to every member. I was recently a guest in their home. After dinner, both children, 15-year-old Melina and 13-year-old Andrew, got up from the table, cleared the dishes, and cleaned up the kitchen without being asked. Mom Giver saw the look of astonishment on my face, and Dad Giver said, “They’ve never been asked, they’ve never been told.”

So, how does this happen?

Educator Eda LeShan once defined the spoiled child as being “a child who is given too much of the wrong things and not enough of the right.”

Melina and Andrew have been given so much of “the right” that they are simply and naturally giving back. They are filled with the spirit of giving because their parents have so often and so willingly given to them. In an atmosphere of generosity, there is always an attitude of gratitude, and gratitude fosters reciprocity.

Consider, in particular, Melina Giver. She was born in China and abandoned by her birth mother. The Givers adopted Melina when she was 4 months old. Since then, she has been given an abundance of affection, nurturing, love, acceptance, and exquisite care by both Mom and Dad.

Today, Melina is an extraordinary young girl—graceful, poised, accomplished, and happy. Once I asked Melina how she would describe a good parent.

“They have your back,” she said, referring to her own parents.

I wasn’t sure I understood the lingo, so I asked her what that meant.

With a sense of gratitude that seemed to come from deep, deep within her, she said, “They protect you.”

She feels safe with her parents—safe from hurt, from humiliation, from fear, and from criticism.

Now, let me tell you about Andrew Giver. From the start, he was very different. He had puzzling behaviors, a low level of patience, and a high level of frustration. Sleep was not on baby Andrew’s agenda. As a toddler, he would race around at breakneck speed with little sign of slowing down, all night long, every night. As a result, the Givers slept in shifts so that there was always someone awake to safeguard him.

When Andrew became frustrated, he would let out a screech that could go straight to the bone. Taking him out to dinner was an act of sheer bravery on his parents’ and Melina’s part. Still unable to figure out what he wanted—or didn’t want—the three of them braced themselves for the inevitable screech and, on many occasions, were asked to leave the premises.

Nevertheless, Mom, Dad, and Melina embraced Andrew with consistent patience and affection. They accepted him as he was, with the faith that, in time, they would figure him out. Such respect is rare in a society that demands conformity.

Eventually, Andrew took to his bed and slept at night. Eventually, he no longer screeched.

School was yet another challenge. Andrew did not conform, and his teachers complained. Some even suggested that his parents ought to punish him.

Here again, Mom and Dad Giver asked that Andrew be given the time he needed. Good teachers understand the individual needs of their students and do their best to accommodate them. Other teachers expect or demand conformity. Determined to preserve Andrew's specialness, his mother persuaded his teachers to see and appreciate his way of learning. Gradually, Andrew showed his extraordinary sensitivity to the people and world around him. And, much to everyone's delight and surprise, he excelled far beyond their expectations.

I went to Andrew’s graduation from middle school this past June. Given the honor of delivering the welcoming speech to a crowd of 1,500, Andrew strode up to the podium with an air of discernible confidence. Andrew’s generosity spills beyond his family over to his many friends, his school, the pep band he organized for the basketball team, and to his music teacher who has inspired him to choose teaching as his career.

Mom and Dad Giver gave their children an abundance of the things that Eda LeShan talks about—kindness, acceptance, affection, love, attention, and firm and fair limits. They filled Melina and Andrew with the spirit of generosity, and now these young people have what it takes to give freely of themselves.

Molly Koch is reprinted here with permission from Baltimore's Child Magazine. You can also find Molly at mollybkoch.com and keeptheconnection.org. Contact Molly with questions, comments or suggestions for this topic.

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Finding A Sense of Self Worth After Emotional Abuse

Emotional abuse can kill one from finding a sense of self worth. Fifteen percent of all children are suspected to be subjects of emotional abuse. A study done with a group of women found that thirty six to 43% of them suffered emotional abuse in various phases of their lives. Emotional abuse has a dramatic impact on one's mental balance and self worth. The sad thing is that often the abused child has no idea that he/she is being abused until much later in life.

An article I read by an unknown author identified six types of emotional abuse: rejection, isolation, corruption, terrorism, exploitation, and ignorance. Let's look at each type.

  • Rejection: This is the most typical form of abuse often starting in early child hood. The child is called names like stupid, dumb, A hole, f'n shit head, defective, son of a bitch, and so on resulting is lower IQ, poor self worth, aggressive behavior, or timidity. In addition to name calling, the child may be constantly ridiculed, criticized, belittled, verbally embarrassed in front of their peers, and so on.
  • Isolation: When the abused is ignored big time, prevented from having friends, shunned, abandoned to be on his/her own at home for hours at at time at a young age, made to feel like he/she doesn't count, frequently punished by locking in his/her room, closets and so on.
  • Corruption: This is when the grown-up encourage or reward the abused to steal, lie, do drugs or speak racist slurs, exhibit bigotry, or encourage the abused to abuse animals or others.
  • Terrorism: Threatening the victim or abusing someone else to show the victim what's in store for him/her. Like, "If you don't behave, I'll do what I did to your sister, or your dog to you." The victim lives in constant fear of being hurt physically.
  • Exploitation: Here the victim is encouraged to do things like be a prostitute to earn money. To sell drugs to other kids to earn money. To steal from stores to save from having to buy things.
  • Ignorance: Ignorance on the part of the abuser results in denying visits to the doctor, education, or dental care.

    The result of these abuses leaves the victim with no self worth and anti social behaviors such as aggressiveness or being withdrawn. With abuse of this nature it's easy to be diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). The abused may be a constant worrier, clingy, cry easily, argumentative, suffer from bipolar disorder, and exhibit self destructive behaviors such as being accident prone. The idea of experiencing personal growth or personal change is never even entertained. As the victim goes into adulthood they often choose a mate to play the role of their abusing parent. And unbeknown to the mate, the abused person suffering from PSTD will lash out all the anger, hatred, and resentment that has been held in during all the years of abuse onto the unsuspecting mate. This is often the result of growing up in an alcoholic family, but not limited to alcoholism.

    Finding a sense of self worth starts with dealing with the past abuse. First it's to acknowledge it and get beyond denial to recognize who the abuser was. An example: one lady in her forties had an alcoholic father. As she grew up she sympathized with her mother. The little girl suffered put-downs and name calling from her father (ugly ducking) all during childhood. She could never express her resentment and anger to her father but it was easy to release all this anger and resentment on her unsuspecting husband. First there was a challenge for her to acknowledge her anger towards her father, but a far bigger challenge to deal with the reality that her mother drove her father to drink with constant criticism of her father. Her mother was the enabler and when the father finally came home from a drunken binge she would march all the children past their drunken father and ridicule him in front of them. The result was PSTD and bipolar behavior. One brother became an addict and another suffered from eating too much.

    After the abusing party/parties are identified, then coaching utilizing a combination of cognitive re-shifting, hypnosis and Gestalt are used. The goal is first to recognize and deal with the disappointment of being subject to verbal abuse and deal with it. The inability to deal with disappointment contributes to poor self worth. The abused is coached to feel and experience the disappointments and instead of putting self down for being in the situation, choose to like self instead. The abused is coached to do this on a daily basis, while using the role play value of Gestalt to move beyond the emotional limitations. Finding a sense of self worth is something that is practiced many times every day.

     

    Richard Kuhns. NGH certified has self help mp3 downloads for personal change and personal growth at http://www.DstressDoc.com find a sense of self worth at http://www.SelfEsteemCure.com and SelfEsteemCure.com for weight loss.

    • Read this feature from past issues.

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    THIS MONTH:
    Poetry   Poetry Corner

     

    This is a "legacy poem" from our April 2003 issue and another of our most popular poets. (We hope to bring back more legacy poems from both Frances Arnett Sbrocchi and Shimon Weinroth soon.) 
    	
	

    I Am Dreaming
    


        	
I hear the song of longing
For quiet and tranquility
Fresh clean air, sparkling waters
Glowing rays, the arora of being
And feeling safe

Sharper senses to kiss fine emotions
That thrill and spill over
With each new moment
New hopes
That it can be better 

The sun will break through
Gray war clouds disperse 
To return to Eden of sublime
And good will, 
To the muses of creativity

Will echo through the hills 
And over the mountains
New horizons filled with
Thrills of empathy
And clear breeze of compassion

Kissing each cranny of our beings
The sweet perfumes of care
Will drench the angry fires
And wipe out despair
I dreamt there was enough to eat

For all, and growing up was fun
Warm and secure
Love and laughter
Blanketed all fear
And the people did not sneer

At peace and friendship
Commodities of war would disappear
A dream for mother earth
Not another millennium another galaxy 
Where love has fallen into disuse

Discord in cities of greed
Hopes absorbed,

But I do believe
There will come A time

    Shimon Weinroth

     

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    Get information on Domestic violence and violence against women at LadybugBooks.com

    We invite any of you to contribute on this subject. We feel it is important to continue the discussion of domestic violence.

    Read this feature from past issues.

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    We are looking for your stories remembering women's history. Send in your story and we will publish it.

    Women Exceptional Women are Our History and Our Future:

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Women

    Pamela Bitterman
    Into the Big World
    a first person story

     

    It is both humbling and a little embarrassing to be submitting a personal testimonial to this column. I do not see myself as an exceptional woman. I have personally had the honor to know too many of that esteemed ilk, to put myself in their category. I have, however, been the beneficiary of exceptional opportunities or, as my father was fond of saying, I had the chance "to live a big life". Being raised as one of four children in a dreamy little lakeside town in the Midwest of the 1950's by my father, an elegant man who had just completed medical school on the GI Bill, and my mom, a spunky young bride who traversed the obstacle course of becoming our full time mother while simultaneously assuming the role of socialite, as wife of the burgeoning community's sole pediatrician.

    I have often said that my early years were exceptional only in that they were extremely happy and "functional', consequently instigating in me my later desire to go out and help less fortunate youth work through the dysfunction of their less wholesome childhoods. I dropped out of college during the Vietnam War protests to do just that for several years in Residential Treatment Centers for Emotionally Disturbed and Socially Maladjusted Youth in New England. It was hard, grueling and not always truly gratifying work. In spite of our sincere efforts, sadly these children often reverted back to their at-risk behavior once they'd been returned to the broken neighborhoods and homes from which we'd plucked them. Frustrated and frankly a little burnt-out, I eventually followed the sun to the Pacific Northwest to immerse myself in the clean, organic, pastoral, happy hippy life emblematic of Northern California in the 1970's.

    I should acknowledge that this pivotal shift in geography and philosophy followed closely on the heels of my younger brother surviving a horrific accident that, although leaving him frighteningly physically impaired, also lent undeniable credence to the existence of his super-human heart, strength, humor and fortitude. He was an uncommon hero. And he was, and continues to be, the shining inspiration for the leaps-of-faith that I have allowed myself to make during the adventure fueled years that have followed.

    After several deliriously happy months of living and working as a Resident Naturalist for a Nature and Wildlife Preserve in the Mendocino countryside, I wrote and proposed a grant for funds to run an Outdoor Education Program on the financially strapped property. My proposal was granted, the monies to be allocated by CETA. I got busy setting up the project while teachers in the area were busy identifying students who were having difficulty managing in a traditional educational setting. Then Governor Reagan was elected. CETA and programs like it were quickly done away with. And I suddenly found myself facing the very real prospect of having no job, no home, and no set immediate future. I also had no debts, no attachments and no dependants. So, while leafing leisurely through an issue of a local counter-culture magazine called C0-Evolution Quarterly, when I stumbled upon a tiny blurb advertising a 60 year old co-operatively owned and run 123 ft three masted gaff topsail schooner returning to the U.S. to enlist crew for her second circumnavigation, I leapt! A very nominal sum would get my foot in the door [or "hatch"] and no experience was necessary. This discovery represented for me the epitome of auspicious timing during an arguably auspicious time in history, consequently setting me on one of the most fantastic adventures of my life. I firmly adhere to this belief today in spite of, or perhaps because of what ultimately occurred.

    I happily gave away all my worldly belongings, traveled cross-country, left my beloved Airedale with my parents, and hopped aboard this great old funky ship tethered to a crumbling dock at Lincoln Wharf in Boston Harbor's Italian North End. My maiden voyage on the schooner would mark the beginning of a four-year journey that would bring me to a full realization of my more miraculous vibrant self, and introduce me to a pure and golden pre- globalized world. In the course of the journey, I would advance up a hazy hierarchy from grunt swabbie know-nothing to ships First Mate, second in command. I soon blissfully discovered that there were no sexist stereotypes at sea. If you could sail, and you could live that demanding life, you were on an even keel with the best men out there. I have to admit, the empowerment felt sexy as all get-out!

    Not dissuaded by my positively horrendous initial voyage during which Hurricane Kendra chased our lone schooner miles off course (Actually, I was not yet savvy enough to recognize that we weren't "just sailing!"), I went on to witness rare gatherings with Cuna Indians in the Gulf of San Blas, the unearthing of original ancient tikis hidden away in the Marquesas, and a treasured offering of traditional tapa cloth from island natives; as well as a time of civil unrest in Latin America and the chaos during the final stages of the treaty that returned control of the Canal Zone to Panama.

    The drama ensued with the arrest of our entire crew in two different countries, my bout with dengue fever, and a near-mutiny in New Zealand before the final voyage. But of the many legions of wayfarers who participated in the schooners diverse and colorful history, only seventeen were on board when she went down, and of those who survived to tell the tale, no one had. I felt that to never transmit the details of the ships fantastic life or the complicated events of her final days would have been a betrayal of all she had meant to so many. Sailing to the Far Horizon; The Restless Journey and Tragic Sinking of a Tall Ship draws on original journal entries, photographs, and excerpts from official Coast Guard documents that chronicle the fascinating enigma that was the Schooner Sofia and its dramatic end.

    The book is constructed primarily around journal entries made during my nearly four-year voyage. This journal comprised the bulk of my communication with my family. My mailings home consisted of fat wads of paper ripped in bunches from a notebook and sent in a soggy bundle from some remote harbor, or letters, photographs, newspaper and magazine articles stuffed into packages and mailed stateside from a succession of foreign ports all around the world. My parents held onto the faith that I would someday commit the adventure to print, and they stored everything from the voyage, safely packed away and preserved, for twenty-five years. If I had kept my records of the journey with me, they'd have gone down with the ship and been lost forever. My mother simply believed that my someday telling the story was besheart, Yiddish for "meant to be."

    So it was as First Mate, a unique position of authority and responsibility that I embarked upon the final passage of the Schooner Sofia, and into the storm off the North Cape of New Zealand that claimed our ship, the life of a young crewmember, and threatened the lives of the remaining 16 of us who were cast hopelessly adrift and desperately alone in disabled life rafts with virtually no hope of being saved or of surviving.

    I was proposed to in a leaky life raft when things appeared most dire. It was my sweetheart's poignant hope that, alone out there in the middle of the Tasman Sea being blown to nowhere, the rapidly failing skipper could marry us before he died, and the remainder of us disappeared forever. What happened next was a truly miraculous rescue that defied logic or reasonable comprehension, then, and to this day. Afterwards we returned home to America, kept our life raft promise, married, started a family, and raised them on our own small tall ship. My husband, fellow sailor and survivor and I will soon be celebrating our 30th anniversary. Our sailing adventure and disaster are the subject of my first published book, Sailing to The Far Horizon; The Restless Journey and Tragic Sinking of a Tall Ship. It is my true story of life, love, loss, and survival at sea.

    It bears mentioning that the book was written nearly a quarter century after the incident at a time when I found myself once again facing a desperate personal crisis. In recounting the events of the voyage, I was able to overcome a desperate sense of powerlessness. I felt the strength of that fearless explorer - the young gal with the bright spirit and the indomitable life force. She resurfaced as I wrote and the book spilled out of me like a dance of redemption. The narrative emerges as a memoir of intimate perception and emotional catharsis.

    It wasn't until we had raised our own family, traveled the globe extensively with them, taught them how to be citizens and stewards of their world, and saw them set out on their own miraculous adventures, that I indulged my old fiercely independent wanderlust that I had left sleeping beneath a meticulously arranged couple decade long period of mother prioritizing for which I had absolutely no regrets. "To everything turn, turn, turn…" My season had simply come back around, although to what "purpose under heaven", remained to be seen.

    I was in my fifties; fit, healthy, enlightened and chomping at the bit to get back out into the big world and prove to myself that I could still do it. This time around however, I not only wanted to do well, I was committed to doing good. Africa not only called to me, it batter-rammed my entire consciousness. My husband couldn't come along, didn't really want to truth-be-told. But when I asked him if he was afraid for me to go, he sagely answered, "Yes, I am afraid for you to go. But I know you. I know your heart. And I'm more afraid for you not to go."

    Dark Continent, here I come! The adventure was exciting, heart-warming as well as heart wrenching, dangerous, disillusioning, eye opening, mind-blowing, ill fated and miraculously, once again ultimately survivable. It is the subject of my second published nonfiction, Muzungu; African Lost Soul's Reality Check. The word "Muzungu" is Swahili for white folk. Translated, it literally means "confused person wandering about." This aptly describes me as I audaciously spent months working and wandering throughout Kenya, not willing to avoid the frightening shadowy underbelly of the country. This was a journey, which saw my husband - "on holiday" for a week to take me on safari - railroaded and sentenced to prison. This was a journey, which ultimately contributed to the suicide of a dear friend. I witnessed religious elders morphing into villains, political leaders exposed as criminals, and tribal chiefs engaging in forbidden rituals. My story weaves a tale that reveals foreign missionaries at the ends of their ropes, and a country in violent revolt. This was no journey for the feint of heart. One cannot truly know African reality without going there and experiencing it first hand. Sometimes not even then. With this book, I serve up a shocking and unapologetic dose of Africa.

    If I may interject here, I would be terribly remiss in not pointing out that I have had the great good fortune to encounter a culture of what it would be a gross understatement to describe as "exceptional women." During my experience in their country, I grew to love and respect the Kenyan women. From my reading I knew about the appalling victimization of the continent's women by their men folk. Yet it doesn't take me long in Kenya to get an intuition about the African women's strong spirit and resolve. They displayed a fervent devotion to the children of the nation that they will take to their grave. This commitment is born in spite, or because, of the hardships they endure. I often had to wonder what the face and future of their troubled land might look like if its plucky womankind ever became truly liberated. It was during this same African adventure that the idea for my children's book was born. I was able to volunteer for a couple hours a day in the tiny village school on the grounds of the project where I worked and lived.

    No one knows the story of Kenya better than the children who live it. I had the opportunity to become immersed with the families there. The result is a 1500-word nonfiction children's picture book containing over 70 unique and original color images, titled, "When This Is Over, I Will Go To School, And I Will Learn To Read: A Story of Hope and Friendship for One Young Kenyan Orphan."

    This true story of one little boy is told in his own words.

    While there are many books about Africa on the market, none are told from a child's point of view like this one.

    The children from the village created the book's illustrations. I asked these students to draw what represented family, love, happiness, sadness, fear and hope for them. I have also included powerful photographs of the children, the school, the village and the countryside, the hospital, the mobile clinic and orphan-feeding program. It is this truth that is certain to nudge the hearts and minds of parents, teachers and children everywhere.

    I have promised all proceeds from the sale of this book to the children of the tiny village school where the illustrations were created. They trust me. And they wait.

    Finally after returning home, at some point during the completion of the two Africa books, there was a natural disaster that resulted in the uprooting and ultimate homelessness of an orphanage full of very young children. I witnessed a news bite that zoomed in on a blanket tossed upon a muddy trash blown dirt road. Curled up on it were a couple dozen tiny bodies. The children were being gentled to sleep by benevolent volunteers who were walking row by row rubbing little backs and humming soft lullaby's, trying vainly to calm the fears of these desperate and now completely deserted small waifs.

    I realized that an all-encompassing pain, fear and sadness, a malevolent monster that dashes the hopes and dreams of our future generations, festers silently in dark shadowy corners all across the globe. This travesty has a name. For an appalling number of our small and innocent, it is simply known as the face and the fact of childhood. With my homily titled, Child, I attempted to throw these lost youngsters a lifeline. Mine is the promise that, in spite of all else, it is the inalienable right and privilege of every child to believe in and trust their own extraordinary strength and innate beauty.

    Reacting to the report of the human devastation following this recent natural disaster, the documented crushing desperation of agonized young people today who are literally bullied to death, and finally reflecting upon my own work with AID's orphans in Africa, the upshot was that this piece was written in a single sitting. I am, today, a full-time writer. My works in progress are an adult fiction (sort of) titled SHE; A collection of humorous, heart wrenching and insightful vignettes about a life, told in the voice of the child, the girl, and the woman. And a new children's book titled, "Where Do You Go, My Darling? Which is a children's book about make-believe and daydreams. I also hope to someday get up and running "MOLESKIN" - The Blog: a sort of IFC for writing,. This would be a site dedicated to showcasing writer's work and celebrating their worth. Because there exists an atrocity of brilliant ideas and gifted writers relegated to slush piles, condemned to silence and obscurity by the glut of submissions and corporate bottom-line priorities.

    In the meantime, I live. I laugh. I love my family and my friends. I try every day to be a positive influence in the world. I look for the next great adventure. And I can't wait to write about it all.

     



    Find out more at www.pamelasismanbitterman.com

    Women

    Women

    Women

    Women

    Read this feature from past issues.

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    Tell us what you are reading!
    Give your friends the gift of your opinion.
    Share your reading list and recommendations with our readers. It is as easy as sending an email with the subject line: I read
    This column only runs when we have a review to share.
    BookWorm

    I don't know if you allow this since it is a book from one of your columns.
    Yes, Margaret, we do allow it. Please go on. ~Georgia

    I like the guest columnists every month because I never know what to expect, but last month, after realizing that I kept thinking about one of the books, I bought it and read Elusive Peace by Douglas E. Knoll.

    Peace has always seemed impossible to me. How can we get all of these people to agree on anything when my sister and I fight every holiday? That probably sounds silly, but it is my experience that human nature doesn't just turn peaceful. Maybe that is why the article stuck with me.

    Anyway, I read the book and was surprised. It isn't about just wishing for peace or visualizing it and expecting that everything will work out OK. There is some pretty useful stuff in there. Some of it might actually help people be more peaceful. I am going to skim through it again before Doris and her husband, and family, join ours for Thanksgiving. We might have our first peaceful holiday since our parents could send us to opposite sides of the room!

    Margaret Hastings

     

    Read this feature from past issues.

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    Now Hear This

    A little bit in writing about what's happening at
    LadybugLive.com and TeenTalkNetwork.com

     

    Have you heard these?

     

    Serious and Entertaining
    We have it all

    LadybugLive Hear It All Here
    Be sure to check on TeenTalkNetWork.com, too!

    This Month:

    • Steve Kates, Dr. Sky®, lives a peripatetic life and he comes to us with new guests in "batches". It is always fun to see who, what science, achiever or celebrity, he has booked each month. There are some recent additions you should know about and a new "batch" is coming up this month.
    • Susun Weed and "Wise Woman Way" is on hiatus until Spring so this is the perfect time to get caught up on her reading of Breast Cancer? Breast Health!
    • Dr. Doris Jeanette always has the most unexpected guests! Find out more about the "new psychology" and how to live your life like it matters. LadybugLive.
    • We all want to know what to expect. Listen to Jim Dellicolli and our astrology series for answers. Jim is joined by our lovely artist in residence, Dottie Moore, whose show is also a Not-To-Miss favorite!

    Now Hear This

     

    Dr. Christopher Russell
    Principal Investigator of the DAWN spacecraft mission to astroids
    Find out more at DAWN.jpl.nasa.gov

    		 LadybugLive, Audio, Webcasting, Web Casting

    Know someone who might want to be a host at LadybugLive or TeenTalkNetwork.com?

    We are always looking for new hosts so if you know someone who has something to say... There are lots of benefits to anyone hosting a program and for the teen who can do this, not the least of them is the experience itself. It's a great gig for any teen!


     

    If you are a writer and would like to become a NewVoices author or artist, contact:

    Georgia@ladybugbooks.com
    Please use the subject title: NewVoices Information

     

    Now Hear This     It's Not Your Same Old Radio!

    "There are people who have something to say and those who have something to sell. We are interested in the ones with something special to teach the world."

    For LadybugLive and TeenTalkNetwork to continue growing, we need correspondents and readers. The process is quite simple: submissions are by email. If accepted, a reader calls, either our local or our toll free number as directed in the acceptance email, to record. What will you be recording?

    We are looking for: readings of original creative work, comment and commentary, and ideas for regularly appearing programming that can be done within this format. We are not able, as yet, to do direct call in shows, but shows that require listener (delayed) response are OK. All of this, of course, within the same guidelines as everything we do: Of interest to women (no particular restrictions). This format might also be ideal for some of those traditional topics, such as clothing and makeup, with a fresh "twist."

    Send ideas and proposals to Georgia@ladybugbooks.com

    We strive to bring you the best in women's writing.

    And...

    Keep up to date on what is happening at NewVoices and LadybugFlights by signing up for our monthly announcements!

    We know online radio is new to many of you but we also know how rewarding it can be. So, if you need help to get started, don't hesitate to contact Georgia for help... And, hey! Our hosts love hearing from you!

    Our teen site, TeenTalkNetwork.com programming is safe — no porn or other unwanted promotions are attached to our files.

    The Internet promised and we are delivering.

    New programming is always available at:
    TeenTalkNetwork.com
    LadybugLive

    Read this feature from past issues.

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    Beatrice Spreadmoore's Financial World

    Foreclosure

    wrecking ballHere it comes are you ready?

     

    General questions and answers

    Q. In a foreclosure are your assets and income safe or can they be garnished?

    A. Your deed of trust should state: "Purchase Money Mortgage" making your loan a non-recourse loan. With this type of loan the only action that can be taken is to foreclose on the house. Under CCP Section 580b and its associated requirements (a loan made to provide funding for the purchase of an owner occupied residence), non-recourse treatment of the debt exists limiting the secured lenders sole recourse for recover as foreclosure of the security (the home).

    Q. The lender will incur expenses (legal, etc) related to the foreclosure. Will you be expected to pay any of those expenses? Will you have a Federal and/or State tax liability for those expenses?

    A. No to the first question and since I am not a lawyer I'd suggest researching information that relates to recent Federal and State legislation that eliminates tax liability for the forgiveness of debt.

    Q. Is it correct that you do need to continue your homeowners insurance until the foreclosure sale? Should you cancel it, effective that date, or does the lender do that?

    A. Keep your homeowners insurance in place until the foreclosure sale and then convert it into a renters policy (assuming you still occupy the property).

    Q. What about homeowners association fees (HOA fees)?

    A. If you are surrendering or giving up the home in a bankruptcy, you are responsible for the HOA dues as long as the home is still titled in your name.  A foreclosure process also leaves you liable for the HOA fees until the auction.

    Q. Is it correct that you do not need to pay the real estate taxes?

    A. Yes. Since property taxes are senior to your lender's secured debt,they will face that responsibility in order to avoid a tax sale.

    Q. You probably will not want to leave the house vacant, but you do not want to be "evicted" and you don't want to owe "rent". So, at what point do you move out?

    A. After the foreclosure sale, they will contact you and ask that you voluntarily move. You are responsible for the fair rental value of the property after the foreclosure sale. However, it is doubtful they will try to collect it and it is more likely that they will offer a "keys for cash" solution to get you out voluntarily rather than commence a costly eviction action.

    Q.If you were to move out before the foreclosure sale, would you cancel all utilities at that time, or do you have to wait until the sale?

    A. If you move out, let the lender know that the home will be vacant and to avoid waste of their collateral they should turn on the utilities and take possession. Let them know that as of a specific date (providing reasonable notice) you intend to cancel the utilities.

    Q. As far as timeline after the payment is late does that mean the notice of default will be recorded 90-120 days after the late date?

    A. It all depends on the lender, and upon the individuals assigned to your loan. My observation is most of them are moving at glacial speed and you are probably looking as something like 9 months down the road and it could even be longer is you appear to be trying to do a short sale or a possible modification. In other words, you can lead them on a bit and gain additional time.

    Q. After the notice of default, how long before the actual foreclosure?

    A. California Civil Code 2924b identifies the timeline, The minimum is 3 months and 21 days after the Notice of Default is recorded.

    Q. Is the foreclosure process in CA taking longer now, due to the increase in foreclosures, or are the lenders sticking pretty close to schedule?

    A. As the result of recent California legislation there is an additional 30 days required where the lender must make a good faith attempt to contact you and see if a workout is possible before they file a Notice of Default. But the real delay is voluntary on their part and results from them just being overwhelmed.

    Q. Is there a period of time during this procedure where the bank would accept a deed-in-lieu? Should you try to pursue that? Would there be any benefit in that for you?

    A. You will see few Deeds-in-Lieu because of title issues more than anything. If there are any junior encumbrances it becomes just about impossible. And your credit score is not actually improved to the extent that it justifies going down this path rather than face foreclosure and enjoy the months of living in the property without making payments.

    Q. What should you expect as far as the banks attempts to collect? Will you receive lots of phone calls? Letters? Is there any way to stop it?

    A. Likely you will get the usual creditor calls. You can stop the calls by advising them in writing not to communicate by telephone and use the mail. Then open a P.O. Box, provide them with that address, and only open it every once in a while to see what is going on.

    Make sure you get everything in writing.

    Challenging the Foreclosure

    The most important element of the legal process known as foreclosure is time. Homeowners never seem to have enough of it to recover fully from their financial hardship. However, there are a number of ways to put the process on hold even if it is just for a few extra weeks.

    • Even if you have no desire or ability to , it may be helpful for you to live in the property for free for as long as they can. You can consider stopping mortgage payments. If you chose this path you should consider keeping insurance in place and do pay homeowners fees.
    • Probably the most important tactic will be to at every turn, either through the use of an attorney or by diligently reading and understanding the rules to make motions in court. If you do not fight it they will get a default judgment and quick eviction.
    • The best way to make sure that you have more time is simply to answer, contest, or object to every paper that the bank files in court. With thousands of at every level from local to state to federal, it is almost guaranteed the lender did .
    • It is also vital for you to make sure that you are following the court rules as closely as possible. Many courts allow between 15-20 days for an answer to be filed after the date of service. The sooner you file your answer, though, the sooner the bank will file its own answer again; since your looking for more time, it may be beneficial to file the paperwork on the 14th or 19th day
    • With the length of time a typical lawsuit can take, and the complexity in a contract law case involving foreclosure, this simple tactic can give you 1-2 years of extra time to remain in your home without making a mortgage payment. Two of the more creative methods of defending against a foreclosure that have come up recently is , and requesting the entire loan be rescinded due to violations of the Truth in Lending (TIL) regulations.
    • Declaring bankruptcy just before the Sheriff shows up at the door is also an effective way to stop the auction while you work your way through the bankruptcy court.

    Other steps you can take

    Require the bank/mortgage lender to produce the documents which show that they hold the note on your mortgage. Communicate with the bank. An example letter is shown below. In this example the bank is Wells Fargo.

    Notice of Disputed Debt

    TO: Wells Fargo Home Mortgage
    PO Box 2000
    Fort Mill, SC 29716-2000

    Re: Notice of Disputed Debt
    Your name
    Real Property Address:
    Loan Number:

    I, Your name, alleged consumer, in accordance with US Code Title 15 Chapter 41 Subchapter V Section 1692g, request Wells Fargo Home Mortgage provide the following information:

    (1) the amount of the debt;
    (2) the name of the creditor to whom the debt is owed;
    (3) a statement that unless the consumer, within thirty days after receipt of the notice, disputes the validity of the debt, or any portion thereof, the debt will be assumed to be valid by the debt collector;
    (4) a statement that if the consumer notifies the debt collector in writing within the thirty-day period that the debt, or any portion thereof, is disputed, the debt collector will obtain verification of the debt or a copy of a judgment against the consumer and a copy of such verification or judgment will be mailed to the consumer by the debt collector; and
    (5)a statement that, upon the consumer’s written request within the thirty-day period, the debt collector will provide the consumer with the name and address of the original creditor, if different from the current creditor.

    In current documentation received by Your name from Wells Fargo Home Mortgage; the language suggests that Wells Fargo does not currently own the Promissory Note associated with the real property address stated above. This is cause for this Notice of Disputed Debt. 15 U.S.C. §1692g subsection 4 states “... the debt collector will obtain verification of the debt or a copy of a judgment against the consumer and a copy of such verification or judgment will be mailed to the consumer by the debt collector...”; verification of debt allegedly associated with named consumer stated above, must be nothing less then the Promissory Note originally signed by the alleged consumer.

    Among the documents submitted to Wells Fargo is a request of Wells Fargo to produce the Original Note associated with the alleged borrower. See Appendix A for the specified document.

    Appendix A:

    TO: Wells Fargo Home Mortgage
    PO Box 2000
    Fort Mill, SC 29716-2000

    Re: My request for a copy of the Promissory Note
    Your name
    Property Address:

    Dear Wells Fargo Home Mortgage,

    I am the owner of certain real property located at my street address, which is security for a loan made by Wells Fargo Home Mortgage to me on DATE OF LOAN. Please produce for my inspection within ten days the Promissory Note which I signed on DATE SIGNED.
    If you have any questions regarding my request, please call me at xxx-xxx-xxxx.

    Very Truly Yours,
    Your name

    Summary

    Homeowners are facing foreclosure in record numbers due to the , financing, and investing activities of the largest banks in the world. Much of the , either inadvertently or purposely, and it is up to we homeowners to defend ourselves against the economic devastation anyway we can. It is a mistake for homeowners to give these lenders a free pass, allow them to foreclose with no objections, of a house too soon, and put the financial health of the banks ahead of our families' futures by continuing to make impossible payments on debt that was never designed to be paid back.

    Field Trips

    Foreclosure law of California

    Steps to foreclosure in California

    How to stop a foreclosure

     

    Happy Trails,

    B.S.
    Read this feature from past issues.

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    Books, Cooks, Looks & Ms. Elani

    Elani

    Dear Friends and Readers,

    ...the tangled web of the McGann family...

    faith
    by Jennifer Haigh
    ISBN 978-0060755805

    Elani

    In the last ten years the accusation of the molestation of young boys by Catholic priests hit an all time high. Families were torn apart, churches split and the life of many men destroyed. A few priests were let go but more often they were assigned to another church, to jobs where they were not to be in contact with young children. But what of the priests that were accused and were actually innocent? What happens to them? In the novel by Jennifer Haigh, faith, the brother of Sheila McGann is a middle age priest who is accused of molesting a young boy that he had befriended. But did he?

    The story shows the tangled web of the McGann family, including the mother whose first brief marriage produced Arthur, who became a priest. Her second marriage produced two more children, Sheila and Mike, often at odds not only with each but with their alcoholic father and prudish mother.

    The children of her second marriage are raised by a mother who is very different from the one who raised Art by herself for the first ten years of his life. For Art it is hard to accept the difference his step-father brought to their lives. Secrets grew. The ones kept between family members and extended family are ones familiar to many today. But what is the truth and what is fictionalized from memories told in hushed whispers?

    By following this family until the conclusion of Art's tragic accusation, Haigh brings in history of what has happened in our country with the Catholic church and the role of priests. Families are divided and lash out at the media, other church members as well as those that brought forth the charges. Sometimes truth can shatter the foundation of the family. The reading of faith may be hard for many as it is brutally honest and questions the loyalty and trust within a family. Who do you believe?

     

    Elani

    Read this feature from past issues.

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    YOUR HOUSE IS ON FIRE

    News to Watch

     

    Why Not Occupy Newsrooms?
    Forget about occupying Wall Street; maybe it's time to start occupying Main Street, a place big media enterprises have bled dry by offering less and less news while dumping and furloughing journalists in seemingly every quarter. The consequences of bad decisions by media CEOs have landed on everyone except those who made them.

    The Great Firewall of America
    The Senate's PROTECT IP Bill, designed to stop piracy, now has a matching bill in the House: E-PARASITE. It would have been tough to top PROTECT IP, but they've managed to do it. It contains provisions that will chill innovation. It contains provisions that will tinker with the fundamental fabric of the Internet. It gives private corporations the power to censor. And best of all, it bypasses due legal process to do much of it. James Allworth, Harvard Business Review

    'Miss Representation' Shows Ugly Side of Women in Media
    The dirty truth prevails that whenever women show up on TV shows and movies, they're usually seconds away from being objectified, degraded or flat-out ignored. For every "Hermione," there are a dozen "Snookies" duking it out over the guy du jour. It's a reality Jennifer Siebel Newsom intends to make loud and clear in her new documentary, Miss Representation.
    Maddie Oatman, Mother Jones

    Turner: Focus on helping women to manage population growth
    Placing an increased focus on meeting the education and development needs of women can help the world meet challenges associated with population expansion, writes Ted Turner, founder and chairman of the United Nations Foundation. Turner advocates increased funding to support universal access to family planning services as a way to help women manage health concerns, reduce maternal and child mortality deaths and give women better opportunities to act on income-generating enterprises. CNN

    Watchdogs criticize insider influence-peddling over Keystone oil pipeline project
    Campaign finance watchdogs are criticizing the Obama campaign for hiring a former lobbyist for the Keystone XL pipeline while the administration is finalizing its decision on the project. "The Obama campaign's decision to hire a former lobbyist for TransCanada highlights again the troubling connections between government officials and the company seeking to build the Keystone XL pipeline, currently under consideration at the State Department," said a statement from the groups, which included Public Campaign Action Fund, Common Cause, Public Citizen and US PIRG.

    Ban Ki-moon talks sustainable development
    The challenges posed by world population growth to 7 billion by the end of this month, according to UN demographers, means that the UN will be making sustainable development its top priority over the next few years, says UN Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon. "Climate change, food-security issues, energy shortages, water scarcities, disease, health issues and gender empowerment: All these are interconnected," Ban says. "We have to address these issues in an integrated way." Time.com

    Expert: Warming is affecting the U.S. water supply
    The combined effects of climate change and population growth will increase freshwater supply challenges in the U.S. in the coming decades, warns a water expert from Arizona State University. Professor Robert Glennon advocates water reuse, improved agricultural usage and changes in the cost of water as ways to manage supply concerns. Reuters

    Ghana's women look to influence climate policy
    Female attendees at a Ghanaian forum on climate justice say rural women need a greater voice in the planning and implementation of climate change policies, according to local news reports. Ghana is already experiencing prolonged droughts and faces the prospect of rising sea levels, coastal erosion and other severe weather events as the effects of climate change intensify. AlertNet

    Climate skeptic recants, says warming data is real
    A physicist who cited faulty data in questioning climate change scenarios has backtracked after reviewing the evidence. Richard Muller launched the Berkeley Earth Surface Temperature project last year to have another look at basic temperature data with partial backing from the climate skeptical Charles G. Koch Foundation. The result as revealed in a House hearing, however, confirmed the work of many climate researchers, showing a "warming trend that is very similar to that previously reported by the other groups," Muller said. The Washington Post/Wonkblog

    Survey assesses city, country climate risks
    Megacities in Africa and Asia are the urban areas most at risk from the effects of climate change, according to an assessment survey by Maplecroft. The Bangladeshi capital Dhaka is the city most at risk, while Haiti was named as the country most at risk from floods, rising sea levels and other climate change effects. AlertNet/Reuters

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    From the EDITOR

    Words Count

    Writing often involves the simple—thanks to our computers—act of counting words, but writers are also very aware that words count.

    We try to bring you the widest variety of words without limiting the ideas they express. It can be a tricky balance, saying enough without saying too much. Much like the artist who stands in front of her easel and ponders whether it is finished, we try to make sure there enough to make this magazine a real magazine, worth a month of visits and revisits to take it all in... and different every month.

    It isn't that the idea is so difficult. We know there are many of you reading Flights in that spirit, even if some of you have a favorite and only read that one each time, visiting other columns as they catch your attention. We are happy when we can catch your attention. We put a lot of work into that effort. But tell us if there is more we need to say on a subject, if what you read has given you a basis or just a beginning. Are our columns too complex or too filled with shortcuts such as aphorisms.

    We want to know, and as we wrap up our thirteenth year, as every year before, we are assessing what should be said next year, next spring, this winter. And so it goes...

    Don't forget to be a regular visitor at
    Georgia Jones, Editor

     

     

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    READERS REFLECT At LadybugFlights we have always encouraged the participation of our readers. For that reason we have this space, a place where you can be heard. Nothing as formal as an article or a column... Just some venting, self-expression, or a chance to communicate what you are thinking on almost any topic. Send it to us and we will let you know if we can use it!

     

    We often get more notices than notes, but once in a while the notices are important enough to share.   ~Georgia

     

    Historic vote extends EU asylum standards to transgender people

    Today the European Parliament formally adopted a new set of asylum rules for the European Union. The binding rules now include gender identity as a ground of persecution, which EU Member States must take into account. Governments have already agreed to the changes, which are final.

    Until now, EU asylum law foresaw that "gender related aspects might be considered" by national asylum authorities when examining the potential persecution of specific social groups in their country of origin.

    The resolution adopted today has replaced this text, and now specifies that "gender related aspects, including gender identity, shall be given due consideration". The text now refers to gender identity specifically, and obliges Member States to consider gender-related aspects. Before, EU countries could still choose not to consider aspects linked to the applicant's gender in asylum claims.

    The text applies to all EU Member States except the United Kingdom, which opted out of EU asylum policies. The resolution was successfully drafted and negotiated by Jean Lambert (pictured), a British Member of the European Parliament in the Greens/EFA group.

    This is the first time a binding EU Directive includes gender identity.

    Dennis de Jong MEP, Vice-president of the LGBT Intergroup and responsible for asylum policies in the GUE/NGL group, commented: "Around the world, transgender people can be persecuted for who they are. This reviewed Directive will recognise the danger they face, and it will commit EU Member States to taking gender identity into account in asylum claims. I hope in a future revision it will also become mandatory to consider the sexual orientation of applicants."

    Sirpa Pietikäinen MEP, Vice-president of the LGBT Intergroup, added: "I am very proud that my colleagues from the centre-right EPP group supported this change, regardless of the views they hold on asylum in general. The European Union is only starting to recognise gender identity as a ground of persecution, but I hope today's vote will help protect more lives."

    The binding rules will apply after they are transposed into EU Member States' national law, except for the United Kingdom, Ireland and Denmark which opted out of the process. Due to access the EU in July 2013, Croatia is also expected to adapt its asylum laws.

    Find out more

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