A Living Hell

Recently someone I work with gave their two week notice.
Indicating that working in a place where a mask had to be worn during their shift was a living hell for them.
I was a little taken aback when I saw the notice.
And certainly happy that I had not been the one to have to accept her resignation because Jay’s smartass mouth would have certainly gone off without the brain participating.
 
I am not going to go into the reasons why I could have told her what a living hell really looks like.
K too was furious after reading it.
She was also happy to have not read it while said person was still in front of her or like me something would have been said.
Where I can get away with it to an extent now, she cannot.
As with myself K has gone through a lot in her life.
If she and I were to sit down and write out our histories most would think that only this much could happen to one person in a movie.
But it is not true.
These things can happen to people who live every day ordinary lives.
 
I think too it shows the entitlement of people these days.
 
In Afghanistan there is terror.
In Afghanistan there is death.
There are going to be beatings.
There are going to be public whippings.
There are going to be violent murders.
All of this is going to play out, washing the world’s plains in blood.
 
To me this is indicative of a living hell.
Living every second in terror.
Knowing that each breath you take may be your last.
Your children’s.
Your spouse’s.
I cannot even begin to imagine the agony of fear that the Afghan people are feeling because I will never have to live under that type of regime.
 
Residential schools and their perpetrators of a wealth of abuses.
Belittled for speaking your language.
Beaten for tears.
Sexualized for perverse beings who then discarded you like garbage.
Buried in unmarked graves for decades.
And to this day the catholic church has still failed to meet its monetary obligations.
It failed to meet the moral ones and continues to do so with the intricate dance of finger pointing and ‘doing all we can’ attitude.
 
More hell to be lived through.
Not for a year.
Not for ten.
Not for twenty.
But a lifetime of pain.
A lifetime of addiction and cycles of abuse that still continue to this day.
 
Life really needs to be put into perspective for some people.
 
©Aug. 25/21
Picture is my own

My Voice for Theirs

I told you earlier this week that I had a post that I was mulling over.
I had read an article that made me so angry that I could have spit nails.
Which is why I needed to take a few days for my rage to get to a point where vitriol was not the only thing that was spread across my page.
A recent headline this week (and y’all know I love my headlines taking me deeper down that rabbit hole) about a comment made by the head of the Canadian Catholic Bishops in which he stated that the church is being persecuted amid the discoveries of unmarked graves in provinces at residential schools is what enraged me.
That the media is playing it up and it really is not as bad as all that.
That there has been finger pointing and it is a big thing right now.
No it has been a big thing for the Indigenous people it is that now the world is paying attention.
What has become a big thing is that y’all are being called to account.
Fingers are being pointed for the atrocities that were committed because the church and government knew better.
Sorry the church and government filled with white men who were so damn afraid of change and differences that they had to attempt to subjugate or assimilate and if that did not work than eradication was the way to go and they are the ones that knew best.
And one must beg the question how did they know that they and they alone knew what was the best thing to do?
Because the Bible said so.
There are passages upon passages that can be used to affirm this belief.
I am fairly confident that if I were to sit down and read the bible that I would be able to find a rule against just about anything.
And if I am not I will find a section that is close enough and interpret so that it in fact does state what I want it to state.
This has been happening for so long it has become ingrained to believe that those words are heavenly when if fact they are the words written by men for men on how to keep others under their thumb.
As a result of the graves and bodies being found vandalism is on the rise at catholic churches.
Arson.
An expression of rage and pain.
I understand but it is not helping.
And I ask those who have participated:
Did you feel better in the end as the last flame licked out?
I will never know the pain that is felt so strongly that it is generational.
I will never know the pain of being ripped from my family.
I will never know the fear of being abused because I am different.
I will never know what they had to live with.
But I will open my ears.
I will open my eyes.
I will open my mouth.
I will stand and not be silent until every child is found and brought to rest.
My voice is small.
My voice is loud.
My voice is my words and my emotions.
My voice to be given for those who were silenced and taken.
My voice will be theirs.
©July 4/21
Picture is my own
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