Do you know what Human Trafficking is?  If not, you may want to do some research.  You can start with www.polarisproject.org.  When most Americans hear of this brutal and destructive crime, we think “immigrants” and other countries.  Over 100,000 Americans are forced into Human Trafficking each year.  Staggering.  What makes it more unbelievable is that it could be the woman working next to you, or the girl who rides the bus beside of you, or a friend of your child.  This unspeakable crime exists through threats, coercion, and blackmail.  Along with a healthy dose of brainwashing. 

On Tuesday, January 24, 2012, I went with a group of women toColumbiafor my first ever lobbying experience.  I was curious.  This was an historic day.  One woman spearheaded this event – Betty Houbion inCharleston.  Together with Patricia Ravenhurst – an attorney who specializes in victim abuse – they put together this lobbying effort.  Attorney General Alan Wilson spoke passionately about the cause.  Representative Nelson Hardwick and Senator Hutto stood up against this horrendous crime.  Senator Tom Davis has committed to helping get this bill through the statehouse.  Before we left that day, the bill had received a number.  We did not expect that.  Those who had initiated this event were stunned.  With absolute delight.

This is what we are after.  At this point in time,South Carolina does not have a bill outlawing Human Trafficking.  All we can respond to is the federal law.  We need more.  For a state who claims that their rights often champion the federal laws, we need to ensure that all law enforcers know what they can do to punish the law breakers.  We need South Carolina laws along with awareness and education.  A lot to ask, but less than what is needed.

Thanks to all who have worked to get this bill into our house and now through it.  We must stand up for those who cannot speak for themselves.  It is not a choice – it is a crime.

Since his arrest, Penn State has had riots, candle lightings, and firings. The graduate student, now coach, who reported allegedly seeing Sandusky rape a 10-11 year old in the showers of Penn State has received death threats. Joe Paterno’s family has been devastated. What has happened to Sandusky’s family remains cloaked in silence. Yesterday, we discovered that the judge who let Sandusky out on a $100,000 bail was a long time supporter and volunteer with The Second Mile, Sandusky’s non-profit organization.

In South Carolina, a pedofile who was also a coach and prominent church member has been arrested. Children have brought forth accusations against a doctor. A university professor has been accused. Our state is no less immune from this horrible crimes.

The horrors of all of this as visited on the heads of children is indescribable. I can’t imagine being one of the many who are dealing with decisions to come forth or to continue living the lives they have built in the aftermath of their abuse. But maybe – just maybe – this will allow these children, some now adults, to begin to understand that it wasn’t their fault. That they were not the ones who initiated the crime, and that they were just children. Maybe it will allow them to begin or continue to release the memories and any guilt they might feel about what happened to them. Maybe this will help reverse the cycle that is often there in child sexual abuse. It is simply wrong.

This would be a small silver lining indeed. If we didn’t have to learn from these horrors – if we could remove anything that ever happened to these children – that would be far preferable than having to learn from this beastlike criminality and the coverup that was a part of the crime. But we must learn. We are forced as human beings to learn from our mistakes.

As for the criminals, our justice system must punish. To do less is to continue the cowardlike behavior that has marked too much of this horrific lifestyle choices of those who hurt our children.

A couple of nights ago, one of the stations covered the story about major drugs being in short supply.  Someone mentioned 250+ drugs.  No specific drug was mentioned.  The reporter stated that it was possibly a particular heart drug or a drug for cancer related therapy.  She simply said major drugs were in short supply and that people would likely die because of this shortage.  She went on to say it was the government’s responsibility to make sure that these pharmaceutical companies manufactured the drugs, and if that meant they needed to be encouraged NOT to make generics, then so be it.  What?  This sounded like a lobbying effort on the part of the news station.  How can we help the pharmaceutical companies make more money.  What?

I can’t bear the news anymore.  Perhaps that will change someday.  I’m not the only person in my house, and the other person who lives here likes to watch.  The words which the newscasters use smack of “disaster” and “chaos” and “worst case scenarios”.  I don’t want to hear that everyday.  I can’t in fact stand to hear it everyday.  The entire dramatic presentation of the newscasters has reached such a level that I feel as if I’m watching a completely choreographed show, which I suppose I am.

Is there any possibility of returning to a less dramatic and more balanced approach to the news?  Do any of you have any suggestions?

I have discovered through the anxiety creating process of reading through page 84 of the book that I am far from alone.  In so many of her interviews, Orman has discovered the sheer numbers of women who refuse, or simply don’t know how to face their financial situation. We bump along without the awareness that taking charge will allow us.  Excuse me – this is not about you.  I bump along hoping that each paycheck will cover what I need.  I have been that woman for all of my life.  Fearful of looking at the reality of my situation, even though I am in a dual income house.  I think I’m simply afraid that I can’t do it.

Last night I took the terrifying step to read that first part of this book, and then actually go to my checking account and see what I had spent last month and where, which almost sent me into an anxiety attack.  But I got through it.  And I found things.  Wow…I discovered I had paid several bills twice over a month’s period, had been charged too much on one bill, the bank had sent in an extra payment on another.  It was an eye-opener.  Not a pleasant one, but I understand that if I am to take control of this and make it work for me, I must do this.  And I’m ready.  Teacher, student – all that.

I don’t have the right to ask any of you who haven’t yet done this to do so.  That is your decision.  I know that at the end of the 5 month period (Orman has 5 month schedule to help you learn the ins and outs), I will feel better about my situation.  Just knowing will eventually make me feel better.  I’m so grateful for her approach – No blame and NO shame.  I have to keep working on that part.  I’m an intelligent and capable woman.  I can do this.  When I get through the next chapter, I will tell you about it.  Trust me – I am as poor at this as any woman could be.  But I can be frightfully honest about what I learn.  I’ll share with you, and you are welcome to come along with me if you’d like.

Here’s to being a more savvy financial person in 2012.

What am I talking about?  Recently, my awareness of and response to dogs has taken on a new level.  We have two German Shepherds.  We have had dogs throughout our married life, and I have allowed myself to get close to only two of the five that have been big parts of our lives.  Our first dog was a step-dog for me – she came with my husband.  She had been the dog of my spouse and his first wife.  They treated her like she was a child, and she acted much like a child.  Not her fault, but I resented her for it.  I couldn’t make change her, nor apparently could I change myself (the only being we can truly change), because I believed that the situation was more like me becoming a stepmother – my input was not necessary nor desired.  I was probably wrong about that as I have been about many things.  Plus I had two pre-teenage sons, a baby on the way, and a new business.  This lovely little dog wasn’t going to get much of my time or attention.  She truly was a lovely, border-collie looking dog.  Luxurious black hair, a shrill warning bark – lovely.

Later, we ended up with a Dalmatian.  I loved that dog.  He was big and beautiful, emotionally responsive, protective, and shed tons of little white Dalmatian hairs.  Then along came Champ.  Champ.  The largest, most beautiful German Shepherd I have ever known.  He had a mane like a lion.  He smelled like baby powder.  I had a difficult time getting close to Champ – for the first year, he pooped all over our house and tore down wallpaper.  I have no background in training dogs, and chose not to learn.  Stupid stupid me.  Then I had a partial hysterectomy.  Within two weeks, Champ and I became inseparable.  He was my dog, and I deeply loved him.  Of course, here comes the tragedy.  We came home one Friday afternoon and Champ was missing.  I went searching and found him.  Under our front deck… in a coma.  Champ died before we got to the emergency vet.

My heart closed.  Every dog I came near after that threatened that emotional wound.  Especially any dog we brought home.  My husband and youngest son wanted a new dog right away.  I didn’t.  We ended up with another German Shepherd, Prince, 2 months later.  It was way too soon for me.  No way I was allowing him into my heart.  Sweet Prince.  He has never forced the issue.  Then we got Bella two years later.  I think one dog often needs a playmate, especially if the owners are often away.  And what a playmate.  Bella is all energy and excitement.  Too much for me to handle.  I just wanted her away from me.  For awhile, I convinced myself I was allergic to her.  What if I am?  Allegra works well for me.

So here is the Universe knocking on my door. I’ve grown weary of reading bad fiction, and burned out on reading books that relate to my history major.  But I love to read.   A couple of months ago, I picked up a book about a woman who is part of rescue operation of boxers in New York. I was deeply touched.  Then I found Dean Koontz‘s A Big Little Life, about his dog, Trixie.  Having finished that (and cried like a baby – no, actually sobbed like a grown woman at the end), I went searching in my book shelves.  I found The Dog Listener by Jan Fennell – Learn how to communicate with your dog for willing cooperation.  I don’t know what’s going on exactly, but the universe is talking and I’m listening.  Feels very good.  I’ll see where this takes me, and I shall follow its lead.

I went searching yesterday (via my android) to find a book that was light yet encouraging, fun and inspirational all at the same time.  I searched through the Amazon listing of beach reads.  Those books just leave me wishing I had started my writing career thirty years ago.  Suddenly, I remembered reading a book about dogs while on vacation recently.  I thought, what the heck, and what-the-heck caused me to stumble on a gem of a book.

A Big Little Life: A Memoir of a Joyful Dog. This is a GREAT read.  I am careful about how often I add those words to a book, but this is a true jewel.  Koontz brings all his great descriptive gifts to this loving memoir, along with the amazing gifts given to him and his wife, by his dog, Trixie.  He captures the essence of the wonder of dogs and their ability to bond so deeply with their owners.  If you are in need of a wonderful, delightful, feel good read, take a look at this one.  I’m in love with Trixie.

First, I put an attractive basket in my kitchen for newspapers.  I (we) filled it up with newspaper, magazines, catalogs, and I made an initial trek to the recycling bins that aren’t too far from my house.  There, I began to notice what other people were recycling.  I kept up with recycling the newspapers for about a month.  So far, so good.

One Friday morning, I noticed that one of our garbage cans had not been emptied by our waste management.  Hmmm.  I called to find out the problem.  No one seemed to know (No, I didn’t have grass clippings in the can).  But, by the way, they had recycling bins that could leave next time.  Hmmm.  Along with the bins came a sheet of paper that mentioned which items they recycled -  plastic, glass, cans – and I didn’t even have to sort them. This is easy.   Okay, I can wash out plastic that has a neck.  We have a lot of gatorade bottles.  The other kind (I guess a bucket?) has kinds of chemicals which our waste management doesn’t recycle.  Check with yours – could be different.  I can add cans and bottles to that group.  I can do this.

Now, I’m even using different language.  That goes in recycling. Here, let me wash that out – it can be recycled.   It hasn’t been difficult at all.  Just mind-changing.  Attitude, awareness – all that stuff I discussed earlier.  And as a DIY enthusiast (watching the television show, not actually doing it), I am beginning to notice all the recycled materials they are using. Hey – some of my stuff could end up there.

I know I am behind in this department.  At least, I feel like I am.  Sometimes we need encouragement by the people around us, and sometimes we need to be the ones to push the envelope.  Wait – you can recycle that envelope.  And that mail you didn’t want (that has no personal info on it – or shred it first before you recycle it), and those catalogs and magazines you are finished with.  I’m surprised.  This really isn’t that hard, and I’m remembering to do it.  I have a feeling that at some point, my grandchildren (or greats) will be shocked that we threw things away.  There’s a political platform for the future.

Now if I could only remember to take my reusable bags back to the grocery store.