abuse – Page 7 – Feminism and Religion

¡La Vida es la Lucha! – Women in the Colombian Protests by Laura Montoya

*Trigger Warning – Reference and description of distressing violence against women at the hands of police*

Alison Melendez was 17 when she was sexually abused last week by a group of Colombian policemen. She was captured for allegedly being part of the protest groups in Popayán, a city in the south of my country Colombia, South America. The next day Alison was found dead. The official version states that she committed suicide. In the social networks, there is a video of four policemen carrying Alison to the detention center, each holding one of her extremities. One can hear Alison screaming, “Four were necessary to carry me? Four against one woman? Cowards!” The next day – before she was found dead – she posted on Instagram that she was not part of the protests that night. She was walking to a friend’s house when the police showed up. She started recording their actions, they saw her and went mad, so they captured her. When she resisted, four of them took her to the police station. In the post, Alison mentions how they groped her to the soul.” In the video, one can see how her pants came off while they were carrying her, and the policemen did not care. They just kept walking. The last time we see Alison in the video is inside the station. Then cameras were turned off.

*End Trigger Warning*

Alison is one of the 18 cases of sexual violence reported during the protests that started last April 28 in different cities of Colombia. In addition, there are 87 reports of violence and abusive behavior against women protesting. Alison’s case has been more visible, but it is easy to find several videos of police officers beating, harassing, and capturing women in the protests on social media. We have been witnessing this terrible violence full of indignation and impotence, despite protesting is our legitimate right as citizens.

Feminist Parenting About Sexuality Part 2 – pornography by Trelawney Grenfell-Muir

As I said in Part 1 – this topic will be difficult to discuss. As I said, I promise I AM NOT SAYING ALL MEN ARE BAD. Please re-read Part 1 if this post causes you to feel defensive or protective toward males.

Unfortunately, we live in a deeply, horrifically misogynist culture. Our culture is so dystopian that it has normalized a mass butchery of violence against females. I can say these words, and most people either nod or look skeptical, but they don’t actually understand what I am talking about. People do not understand because they have so normalized horrific misogynist violence – they have been so brainwashed – that they cannot recognize brutal attacks against women, even when those attacks are right before their eyes… or happen to their own bodies.

Feminist Parenting About Sexuality – Hold on, because this is going to hurt by Trelawney Grenfell-Muir

I have been asked numerous times by numerous people over the years to write about feminist issues, especially regarding teaching kids about consent, pornography, and healthy sexuality. The reason I have not tackled this project yet is that I know full well most people—even people who think they want to know what I have to say, who think they probably agree with me to a large degree—will find what I have to say too overwhelming, depressing, and painful to handle.

People have interesting perceptions of me, which shape their expectations of what I will say. I am generally cheerful and affirming to be around. I frequently advocate for justice issues by speaking with passion and blunt honesty in ways people find uncomfortable or comforting, depending on where they stand on that particular issue. People want to feel safe and affirmed by me personally, but they also want me to keep speaking out about justice—so long as I do not make them too uncomfortable.

Lily B and Messages From the Beyond by Sara Wright

The night before last I had a dream that has stayed with me. My dreams rise out of my body to teach and to comfort me so I pay close attention. I had recently written tributes for two men, Lynn Rogers, bear biologist, and Rupert Sheldrake, biologist and plant physicist. Both of these men mentored me like a “father” each encouraged me to believe in myself, celebrated my original thinking and told me to trust my intuition. Writing about these mentors reminded me of my own father with whom I had a most difficult relationship…

I am talking to my mother (she has been dead for 13 years) about having found someone who could help me with math and stuff I can’t do because of dyslexia. In this conversation my mother is not a personal figure (when she appears as herself it usually means that I am going to face some difficulty – As an impersonal ‘great mother’ figure she is very helpful). She replies that my father wanted to teach me all these things but he just couldn’t. So many problems were in the way. I choke up weeping over this knowing (and my tears carry over into waking) because I know that “my mother” is speaking the truth. I feel such heartbreak for both my dad and for me. Neither of us had a chance… as I awaken from this dream in the middle of the night Lily b., my dove, is bellowing. He is reiterating the truth of the dream.

Continue reading “Lily B and Messages From the Beyond by Sara Wright”

How I Learned to Love Snakes (a poem) by Marie Cartier

Can I recall a time when my resilience surprised me?

My mother always said, “If you feel bad, go out into the garden and eat worms.” Sigh. We didn’t have a garden. My resilience. My head hits the counter, as my father’s hand slams into the back of my head. I am locked in a closet. I am. That would be my mother as I grew up. Kicked up. Weeds grow. They do. What is surprising to me at sixty is not my resilience, but the fact that I never leaned back. Stopped. Being resilient is the inside and out of my blood type—moving through all of my veins. I am surprised if I cut myself there is blood left. But there is. I still bleed.

This is resilience.

Can I recall a time when resistance was the only option?

My father. I am twelve. My best friend is over. I go in the other room with him. I have to. She hears this, my best friend. I resist shame like a knife blade I hold. I leave the room with the blade held out. Shame then holds out a cloak promising me something. A space to hide maybe. I resist. I am in a cold fever. My best friend and I sit; we are watching a documentary on TV. My mother sits behind us. She says to no one, “Things happen at everyone’s house. I bet things happen at your house, too.” My best friend and I say nothing. I resist feeling. On the TV are flamingoes and I will hate flamingoes for the rest of my life.

This is resistance. Continue reading “How I Learned to Love Snakes (a poem) by Marie Cartier”

The Abuser was Someone I Loved by Sara Wright

Dedication: I dedicate this writing to all animals, women, children who have been violated, brutalized or murdered by men.

I will never forget
the look in her eyes
when he kicked her
the ugly brown shoe
smashing the domed
brown skull –
the daze – vacant
uncomprehending
falling to the floor
her eyes glazed
still find mine
“What did I do?”

Is death stalking us both
Will she die?

I scoop her in
my arms
and flee
slamming a door
to get away
from him –
my terror – her fright
a matrix of confusion Continue reading “The Abuser was Someone I Loved by Sara Wright”

The Sacred Face of Death by Eirini Delaki

The archetype of the Weaver is being widely activated. Thousands of women and men come forth to incarnate it by creating webs of spiritual awakening, by honoring ancestral ways of being, and by promoting practical and sustainable ways of living and thriving.

However, many of these efforts collapse due to a lack of genuine communication inside the group. How can we direct our intentions into grounding a vision that is broader than ourselves? How can we weave together in such a way that each feels heard and, at the same time, willing to deeply listen and feel into, not only the group as a set of individuals, but also to what is making its way into birth out of the group as a unit?

Although it seems easy, group synchronization is not a light task and, in order for this to happen at a substantial level, one has to start from oneself. It is necessary for a kind of initiation to take place, an initiation called “soul individuation.” Soul individuation is a deep dive into one´s own underworld in order to unearth and liberate experiences that have caused one´s soul to fragment. Until this is achieved, one can communicate only from that broken place, not from a place of wholeness and authenticity. Journeying to the underworld is not a pleasant process but, it is a necessary step towards balance and integrity. Continue reading “The Sacred Face of Death by Eirini Delaki”

Crow and the Pornographic Gaze by Sara Wright

Once she believed that
it was her fault
they came on to her,
that she owed them
something…
They owned her?
Secretly the
girl was pleased
because any kind of attention
was better than none,
or being so “different” –
stitched into an Indian skin.

She was a pretty shell,
an abandoned spiral
worn down by waves –
assaulted from within
by the pornographic gaze.
How she hated being young.

Continue reading “Crow and the Pornographic Gaze by Sara Wright”

Vote, Vote, Please Vote! American Democracy Is at Stake by Carol P. Christ

Like many of you, I am weary this election season. In the early part of the Democratic primaries I was enthused. Elizabeth Warren, Bernie Sanders, and also Kamala Harris, and sometimes Amy Klobochar were articulating progressive political positions with which I agreed. Joe Biden, who eventually won, was not my candidate. Though I understood that defeating Donald Trump was the most important thing, I stopped following the campaign.

I have resisted writing this blog because I am so disgusted by Republican moves to suppress the vote, Trump’s attempts to slow the delivery of mail-in ballots, his declaration that mailed ballots are likely to be fraudulent (there is no evidence supporting this), and his unwillingness to say that he will accept the election results. The possibility that the election could be stolen or that Trump will refuse to leave office turns my stomach and frankly terrifies me because many of Trump’s white male supporters have guns and are willing to use them. Continue reading “Vote, Vote, Please Vote! American Democracy Is at Stake by Carol P. Christ”

Ancient Mother by Sara Wright

On the path
through the pines
I see clumps of
moss scattered,
an old tree trunk
is raked as if
with claws;
clumps of downed bark
food for the earth.
My heart soars.
Wild hope pours
through me like honey.

Continue reading “Ancient Mother by Sara Wright”