Rant

There's going to be cursing in this post. Just a heads up.

I'm pissed off. I'm pissed that white cops can literally get away with murder of black citizens with only the flimsiest of reasons. That a cop can kill a 12 year old black child without a second thought. That a cop can strangle a black man to death with an illegal choke hold and not suffer any consequences. That a cop can describe a black man as a "demon" in a court of law and get away with shooting him to death when he could have easily taken him into custody alive. That news outlets are more focused on the alleged crimes of the black men who were murdered - the crimes of walking through a white neighborhood, of selling loose cigarettes, of shoplifting - none of which are valid reasons to put someone to death! Even if they were, even if the crime was rape or murder - there is no justice unless the perpetrator is arrested and tried by a jury of his peers before a judge. Is there no justice for black people? Does the Constitution only apply if you have white skin?

So yeah, I'm pissed off at the whole system right now. I'm also pissed off at the little racist remarks my co-workers are making every single day. After the riots in Ferguson, MO, it was: "I hope they get them [the protesters/looters] on video so they can prosecute them." Are you fucking kidding me. Michael Brown was shot to death, and the jury wouldn't even indict the officer that killed him. But it's so important that the people protesting his death be prosecuted for rioting. Yes, I understand that looting and burning buildings down is not a constructive way of protesting, but if you're honestly more concerned about the protesters being sentenced than a killer cop not facing the consequences of his actions, then you have some serious problems with the way you view the world.

Then this morning, it was:"She's dating a black guy. I'm not racist, but I just don't want to hang out with them [black people]."
"It's okay, as long as you don't choke hold or shoot them."
First of all, just because you say "I'm not racist" before you say something racist does not make it "not racist." Not wanting to be around black people does in fact make you a racist. And just because you are not actively killing black people does not mean you aren't racist; it just means you're a little more subtle with your racism.

This is not a fucking joke, as the unnamed person at my job seems to think it is. Police officers are executing civilians and not facing consequences. White people in similar situations are being taken into custody alive, but black people don't even get to live to stand trial. Where is the justice in that?

And You're Surprised?

I recently read a couple of books about animals and farming: Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer and The Emotional Lives of Animals by Marc Bekoff. A couple days ago, while discussing what I learned about factory farms with my partner, I explained to him how many cows are skinned and otherwise "processed" (aka have their legs cut off) while still alive and conscious. His answer floored me: "And you're surprised?"

Apparently it's pretty common knowledge that factory farms and slaughterhouses are terrible places where living animals are daily tortured and mutilated by sadistic excuses for human beings.

My answer is yes. Yes, I was surprised and disgusted when I found out about how these animals are treated. How can you be aware of the horrors that these animals are subjected to daily and not want to do something about it? Cows, pigs, and chickens are intelligent and emotional animals just like your house dogs and cats. When a story about dog or cat abuse or neglect surfaces, people are outraged; they demand something be done to the perpetrators so that the abuse doesn't happen again. When the same (or even worse) abuse and neglect happens to millions of cows, pigs, and chickens every single day, no one bats an eye. That's normal. Bacon tastes good, so who cares what happens to the animals that it comes from.

I'm so tired of this hypocrisy. I may be only one person among millions, but I am going to do something about it. I'm starting by educating myself and reading about factory farms and animal welfare in the United States. I'm cutting meat out of my diet (more than 90% of meat in the US comes from factory farms). I'm researching products that are not tested on animals. I'm putting my money where my mouth is. Is anyone with me?

"Silence is the enemy of social change." - Marc Bekoff

Not-So-Irrational Fear

On Sunday, July 4, 2010, at 10:40 in the morning, I was attacked outside of my home. I had been at my boyfriend's house, but I stopped in at my apartment before work to pick up a few things. Since I had to be at work at 11, I was in a hurry and wanted to park in the first spot that I saw, which happened to have a boy (about 11 or 12) sitting on a bike in it. I decided that it wouldn't be too much to ask to get the kid to move back up onto the sidewalk, so I pulled up next to the car in front of him, put on my turn signal, and honked my horn  at him. He didn't move, not even to look. The old man on the sidewalk saw me with my turn signal on and motioned to the boy to get out of the street. As the boy was moving, I slowly started to back into the spot, watching the boy carefully.

Once I was safely parked, I locked up the car and got out. As I shut the door behind me, I became aware of a blue car stopped in the middle of the road, facing the other direction. The man in the driver's seat started yelling at me almost as soon as my door shut. "That's my kid," he yelled. "What were you gonna do, just back up into him?" I assured the man that I had no intention of hitting the kid, but he got out of his car and continued yelling at me. Apparently, I was "getting smart" by telling him that the kid was safe, so he decided to put me in my place.

The man grabbed the side of my neck, and in an instant slammed my head against my driver's side window. Momentarily blacking out, I fell to the ground. Shocked and terrified, and already beginning to cry, I started to pick up my keys, sunglasses, and water bottle. However, he was not finished. He continued to yell at me as I picked myself up off the ground. When I got to my porch, crying and ready to call the police, he decided that he wasn't done with me. He yelled about vandalizing my car and then chased after me. Thankfully, I had already gotten the door unlocked. I got inside just in time, slamming the door behind me.

At this point, I was terrified. Crying and shaking all over, I called the police and then my mother. She quickly made a few calls, and my neighbor Tina came over to take care of me until the cop came. My father also called to make sure I was alright, and my boyfriend and future-mother-in-law came to get me. I told the police what I could, but since I was watching the kid so carefully, I couldn't describe the man or the car in much detail. I didn't get the license plate number. All I knew was that I had never seen the man before, so he probably doesn't live in the neighborhood.

Even though I knew that the cops probably wouldn't find anything, I took pictures of what happened. I photographed the bruise above my eye, the scratches on my neck and head, and the scrape on my hand. I took a picture of my car visor, which had been broken. The scratches on my window proved impossible to photograph. If he is ever caught, I have evidence of the attack.

But that can't make me feel safe. Ever since it happened, I have been stiff and sore, unable to move my muscles normally. I fear going out by myself, or even going home. Going out in public also unnerves me; there are so many people around that I feel out of control. Just in Wal Mart, I see many people that look like my attacker, which makes my heart beat faster and sends me into a panic. I can see how people suffer from terrible post traumatic stress disorder and how something like this can change a person's life. I am afraid for my safety and for my life, but I am also afraid that I won't be able to function normally in society. Fear can paralyze a person, sometimes for the rest of their life. I can only hope that this doesn't happen to me.