Enough is Enough I was Sexually Assaulted at Work
I am sharing this to boost the frequency. This poor teacher was assaulted by a student, didn’t get any help at all, and many students filmed this. (I said in a comment that I hope this will get her some sort of vindication.)
Teachers have a tough job. When they get assaulted, the police need to get there. (Whether they are upset at the school board for removing the police in the schools or not, what does that have to do with this poor woman?) When they file a report, the report should be filed properly. And when they tell their higher-ups (school principals and vice principals, probably), they should not only be believed, but should be helped so this will never happen again.
Yesterday I texted a fellow union representative to ask how she was doing. I had heard there was a pretty big assault at her building and wanted to lend support. I was stunned when she replied. “I am not ok, I was sexually assaulted.” I told her that I would do anything I could to help her, and offered my blog as a way to share what happened. These are her words. This is her story.
On Friday, October 8, 2021, I was sexually assaulted at work.
After calling 911 repeatedly, reporting in person to the Public Safety Building, and waiting 7 hours to file my police report, I’ve been told that it’s now missing.
I was failed by my workplace and again by my city.
I have nowhere left to turn.
This is my story.
I am a high school English teacher in Rochester, New York.
I work in…
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Today’s Shout Into the Void (AKA “the Pandemic Blues”)
Folks, when I don’t know what to say, I turn to “shouting into the void.” This reminds me that even if my words are not understood, much less heard, they still have value.
That seems paradoxical, doesn’t it? (Maybe it is.)
It can be hard to reach a certain age, as a woman. People ignore you. They look right past you. They don’t see you.
But I am here, whether they see me or not. I’m here, and doing what I can, whether anyone else understands it, or not. I’m able to exert my influence — such as it is — on this blog, and point out that every life has value and worth.
I don’t know if you’re like me, and sometimes feel invisible. (Or at best, visible, ignorable, and misunderstood.) But I do know that the stories I write best are the ones where folks who’ve always felt like misfits find their homes and families (not necessarily their families of birth, either; these are their families of the heart).
The heroes and heroines I’ve come up with often felt ignorable, isolated, looked past, misunderstood, and frustrated.
Maybe it’s just this lengthy pandemic, but I’m tired of being misunderstood, ignored, looked past, and frustrated.
One of my best friends told me lately that she believes I should remember that writing is fun, and enjoy what I’m doing. Don’t stress so much about low word-counts. Don’t worry so much that my energy — which has been sapped by the lengthy pandemic, among other things — isn’t able to be consistently applied to writing, either.
Her message was very simple: Do what you can, as you can. And don’t forget who you are.
She also went on to point out that my illnesses — fibromyalgia among them — do not define me. They may limit me, at times. But they are not the sum total of all I am, much less all that I will ever be.
At any rate, my hope is that my blogging does some good for someone, somewhere, even if is to point out that they, alone, aren’t the only person in the world who’s struggling.
Thus concludes today’s shout into the void.
Friday Oddities…and a Brewers Playoff Series Starts
Folks, it’s Friday. And as this week has been full of odd things, I figured I’d mention a few of ’em before getting to the main event (that being the Milwaukee Brewers playoff series, starting today).
A few days ago, I got an “urgent alert” warning me to stay in my home due to heavy police presence in the area. It turned out that I was on the far edge of this, and the police presence was due to a federal agent getting shot while serving a warrant. I didn’t see any extra police, but followed the updates on my computer once I figured out what was going on.
Anyway, these things do not happen often in my neck of the woods. I did find it strange, and I hope the federal agent will recover promptly. (Last I read, the agent was in stable condition. The person being served the warrant apparently committed suicide.)
Next, my Malwarebytes software decided that my own blog was spam. I had a Hell of a time getting in, to the point I seriously thought about uninstalling Malwarebytes. (It had the nerve to say “lightly trafficked websites run the risk of blah blah blah, blah blah blah.” I felt like pitching my computer out the window.) I had to tell it five times that I wanted to continue to the site before I could get in here, and every time it did the same, damned thing.
Anyway, the good oddity — if you can call it that, considering they’ve been to the playoffs now four years running — is that the Milwaukee Brewers are playing the Atlanta Braves today in the National League playoffs. This Brewers team is known for its pitching far more than its hitting, as it has the NL’s ERA leader (for lowest amount of earned runs per nine innings pitched) in Corbin Burnes along with two other starting pitchers who’d probably be aces for most of the other teams in Brandon Woodruff and Freddy Peralta. They also have an outstanding closer in Josh Hader, and many other good relievers, besides. The Braves team is more traditionally balanced, and definitely has more hitters with playoff experience than do the Brewers.
I’m hoping the Brewers will play very well, that they’ll hit surprisingly well, and that their pitching will perform up to standard. If so, it should be an exciting series, and fun to watch for this fan.
Anyway, what’s going on for you on this Friday? (I hope you haven’t been having to deal with the same crap as I have with regards to getting Malwarebytes to recognize my own blog as a safe and protected site, mind you.) Let me know in the comments!
Sunday Thoughts: We Are All Works in Progress
Lately, I’ve had one very important thought running through my head. That thought is, “We’re all works in progress.”
Think about it, please, for a moment, and perhaps you’ll understand.
Our lives are happening right now, all around us. We are a part of history, whether we understand it or not. Whether our lives feel important or not, we partake of something akin to an infinite tapestry…our shades of thread are different from anyone else’s, and what we do with our gifts and talents is up to us.
Yes, there are obstacles. Yes, there are frustrations, and pain, and problems, and many times we wonder if what we’re doing makes any sense. Yes, there are issues with getting along with others, even those you are most motivated to understand. Yes, there seems to be more and more difficulty, the older you become (in experience, if not in age), of how to put yourself first or at least get it into the equation (rather than automatically putting yourself last, which does not work and only adds to the frustration, pain and problems accordingly).
Every day we get up, though, we can accomplish something.
Even if we’re sick, we can get up and take care of ourselves the best we can. Get our rest. Eat whatever we can tolerate. Save our strength.
And if we’re lucky, even on the bad days, even on the sick days, and even on the least encouraging days, we can find that spark of creativity that lies within us.
I live for creativity. (No, it’s not just for pointing out Michael’s memory to people who didn’t get a chance to know him. Though that’s important to me too, as I’m sure you know if you’ve spent any time at my blog at all.) So when I can’t create, it stifles me.
The only thing I know is that as a work in progress myself, every day brings a new chance to do something good. Something creative. Something positive.
Or at least to help a friend and/or loved one feel a bit better about the burdens they’re enduring.
We can do something to help the world around us. We can do something to become our authentic selves.
On this Sunday, reflect upon what you can do to make the world a better place. Then, perhaps, call a friend if you’re up to it, or write, or cook up a storm, or crochet, or do whatever you can that feeds your spirit and gives you positive reasons for living.
That, to my mind, is the winning strategy. And it helps us fill in our own works in progress with more beauty, delight, and joy, too.
A Brewers Update, a Personal Update…and a word about Chris Nuttall’s newest, THE CUNNING MAN
Folks, I am fighting yet another sinus infection. I am beyond tired of these sinus infections, to put it mildly. But all I can do is rest to tolerance, drink lots of fluids, get more rest, and work to tolerance after I regain enough energy to do so.
As far as music or writing goes (aside from this blog), nothing is getting done. (I did write 32 bars of music last weekend, though.) This is frustrating for me as a creative person, as when I can’t create things get bottled up inside.
The only solution I have is to rest. Again, I hate not being able to do much of anything. But I have to be smart, and I have to realize that my body is extremely worn out right now. Otherwise, I’ll just get sicker, and what good will that do for me or anyone else?
Never mind that. I want to talk about baseball, and I want to talk about books now.
Baseball first.
As I’m sure most of you are aware, my favorite baseball team is the Milwaukee Brewers. They have won the National League Central division, and will be going to the playoffs that start next week. (This week, they’re finishing the regular season, but they’re already locked in for the playoffs as it is. Nothing will change for the team as a whole.)
This has been a season of first, in some ways. There was a combined no-hitter, just the second no-hitter in Brewers baseball history (Corbin Burnes pitched eight innings, and closer extraordinaire Josh Hader pitched the ninth). The Brewers have been good at home but astonishingly good on the road, which almost never happens. And, oddly enough, the usually homerun-hitting Brewers have had to rely on outstanding pitching rather than offense as their offense has been downright offensive at times. (Sorry about the pun, but I couldn’t resist.)
So, the Brewers have better defense and better pitching than most of the rest of the National League. But their hitting is average or below for the most part, and their clutch hitting (hitting with runners in scoring position) isn’t as good as it should be.
What all that means is, when a player like shortstop Willy Adames needs time off to rest a nagging injury, that hurts the Brewers’ offensive capability as a team. When Lorenzo Cain takes a day off to rest, it also hurts for the same reasons. And while the highly-paid former MVP, Christian Yelich, continues to scuffle offensively, he does take walks and uses his speed to some effect…meaning he’s not a black hole, offensively speaking, but he’s not a shining light, either.
The Brewers offense, in short, needs every player to fire on all cylinders. If they don’t, the only way they can win is to rely on their pitching. With three starters among the top ten in ERA (Earned Run Average) as adjusted for time and innings pitched, and outstanding relievers Hader and Devin Williams, the Brewers have put together a formidable pitching staff.
Now, Williams found out he’d busted his hand while celebrating the Brewers division-clinching win over the New York Mets on Sunday. This means he’ll not be available, at best, for three weeks. And as that’s when the World Series is likely to be played, the Brewers will have to worry about it later while focusing on the first opponent (likely to be the Atlanta Braves, though the Philadelphia Phillies still have a mathematical shot to win their division instead and face the Brewers).
It won’t help the Brewers to have Williams sidelined. (He has apologized, according to the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel, to his teammates.) But they’ll have to do the best they can as he heals up.
I’m looking forward to watching them in the postseason, and I do hope they’ll hit (for a change) as well as pitch well.
Shifting gears, let’s talk about books. Or at least one, specific book, that being Chris Nuttall’s THE CUNNING MAN, which is now out in e-book format. (Disclaimer: I edited this book and know it quite well.) He’s having some trouble with his website right now (though his blog is up), and thus he can’t get the word out in his usual ways. I figured I could perhaps help just a tad by letting you know it’s out.
Of course, you probably are wondering what the book is about. (It is entitled as a “Schooled In Magic” spinoff, but that isn’t a lot to go on if you haven’t read the Schooled in Magic series to begin with.) It stars Adam, a young man without the magical gift who has become quite interested in studying alchemy and magical theory. Thus, in many ways, he’s a man without a home. The magicians mostly disregard him, and the nonmagicians (“mundanes,” in Chris’s concept, as it is in many fantasy novels) don’t understand him.
Anyway, there’s one place that will take him as a possible apprentice. That place is Heart’s Eye University. A university is a new concept in the Nameless World (Chris’s environs; it has that name because for the most part magicians believe they should use use-names rather than real ones, as your real name being known can give someone unscrupulous power over you; this does not apply to nonmagical people, as there are plenty of ways to get power over a nonmagician already), and they are trying to blend mundane and magical solutions to good effect.
Once he’s there, it’s not a bed of roses, to put it mildly. He meets Lilith, who’s in an apprenticeship she hates (for reasons Adam doesn’t understand at first), and doesn’t know why anyone would want to study magic when they don’t have magic at all. So, as most people can’t stand Lilith, she falls in with Adam. And at first, the unlikely pairing does not do very well, as you might expect.
However, as both Adam and Lilith have adventures, they slowly start to realize they have more in common than not. (They both have ethics and principles, for example.) And Lilith’s worldview (that of magicians being on top because they have magic, AKA “magical supremacy”) starts to change quite a bit (as it should).
I’m going to stop there with a plot summary, but I hope that has intrigued you.
Otherwise, I have several edits in train, I am hoping to write some fiction somehow in the next few days, and I’ll be focusing on healing up so I can do all of these things as quickly as possible.
What are you all doing this week? Let me know in the comments! (And what books are you reading?)
Seventeen Years Later…
Folks, the last few weeks I have been very quiet. There was a reason for that.
If you’ve read my blog for any length of time, you’ve probably read about my late husband Michael. I’ve never stopped talking about him and his manifold talents. He was a writer, editor, contracts administrator, and overall Renaissance Man. He was my equal, my partner, my best friend, my co-writer, and so much more. By far, Michael was the most important person ever to be in my life, and by far, his loss seventeen years ago was the most devastating loss I’ve ever suffered.
Mind, I had been married before I met him. He, too, had been married before he met me. We both knew what we wanted when we finally found each other, and we both vowed to do everything we could to make our marriage work and to support each other to the limit our human bodies would allow…and maybe a bit more.
And we both lived up to those vows.
There’s no way I will ever be able to forget Michael’s life, but around this time I also am bombarded with images from Michael’s untimely death.
I remember the EMTs, and their idiocy. (One asked if I was Michael’s daughter, and I snapped, “No, I’m his wife. Now please get him into the ambulance already!”)
I remember the doctor at the hospital asking why I didn’t catch my husband as he fell from the first heart attack. (He was behind me, I told them, and he fell backward. I would’ve surely tried, though I’m sure I’d have dislocated both arms had I managed, if I’d been behind him.)
I see that. I can’t help but see that. And the only thing I know that will get me away from seeing that is to work as hard as I can and hope I’m too tired to worry about it, else.
That means over the past week I’ve finished two full-length edits.
So, when I’m working hard on the one hand, and am seeing all this other stuff due to the sad anniversary on the other, I don’t blog much.
I’ll try to blog more, though, now that I’ve officially gotten past the sad anniversary of my husband Michael’s death. I want to talk more about writing, more about editing, and because the world is what it is, probably other things I see or hear that drive me batty.
So, do keep dropping by, will you? And I’ll try to keep you all in the loop. (Promise.)
On Getting Your Work Noticed (Just an Observation)
This is an excellent summation of the various things writers think about when they put their work out there. (Especially when they work hard and don’t get noticed. I have to admit a lot of my writing has fallen into this category as well.)
The best point here, IMHO, is that what you do is meaningful not just to you, but to posterity. (No, it’s not vanity if you want to make your mark. Even if your mark gets lost in all the other marks out there.)
The end of an edit / re-write beckons; approximately 11.5% of some 248,000+ words left to ‘listen’ to and ponder over. Word is not happy with the weight I have placed upon it, pretending to lose the Dictionary additions, altering margins and spacing at random intervals, changing the Spellcheck to another language, failure to comprehend any literary constructs apart from business speak; the usual protests against an unprofessional artistic use of its programmes. BUT my trusty memory stick is ever at my side reminiscent of a faithful hound, lest Word pulls its most evil of tricks and crashes the whole work (which it dallied with back in July).
Thus this will conclude a work in three parts which will in total tally up 600,000 + words and has taken somewhere around six years to complete. A time in which edits, proof-reading and re-writes were all done within my own bubble…
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Sunday Thoughts: Reject Hate
Lately, I’ve been very worried about how the United States — and the world around us — has given in to both tribalism and despair.
I understand despair better than I wish, but I don’t understand tribalism.
Why? Well, it seems to be a conduit for hatred. And we need to reject hate, in all its forms, as best we can.
We are all human. It can be hard to remember that, with some of the awful things that people do. But we are all human, and we are neither the least of our actions nor the best of our actions.
Instead, we are the sum total of our actions.
Where I live, we’ve seen an uptick in senseless violence in the past several years. Last week, some guy with a long gun ran out into the middle of a busy highway, and carjacked not one, but two people. He wrecked both cars, and was killed by the police before he could do any more harm.
I don’t know what caused this man to run out into the middle of the street with a long gun, much less carjack two different people. But I do know that he gave them nothing but pain. Their cars are wrecked. Their finances will take a hit in trying to get new ones (and in this area, the public transport is so spotty, you absolutely need to have a car), their mental health will take a hit in that they were hostages, and their emotional health will take a hit because they were helpless to affect their own lives in those moments.
I don’t know if this man hated everyone, or hated himself, or hated his situation. But he spread nothing but vitriol in the last hours of his life on this Earth.
I also don’t know what the answer is to people like this, except for trying to be a better person myself. As I said above, I know we’re not either our lowest moments (what my good friend calls our “blooper reel”), and we’re also not our highest moments (what she calls our “glamour shots”). But I can try, the best I can, to help others, to understand them, or at least make that effort in trying to understand.
That matters, even when I think it doesn’t. (Does this make sense? If it doesn’t, blame the lateness of the hour.)
I don’t know about you, but I often wonder if I am making a difference. After all, the Earth is huge. The amount of people living on Earth is staggering. And it’s only possible to get to know a few, select people most of the time. That means there are so many others we don’t know, that we can’t ever know, and yet we have to act as if we know them all.
Or at least as if we want to know them all.
Anyway, I know that any given human being (myself included) can only reach so many people, whether it’s emotionally, or mentally, or (even fewer people) physically. If we’re fortunate, it’s also possible affect them in a spiritual sense, too. (Hopefully for good, and not for ill. But I digress.)
And every little bit does help. Every time you can help someone, even if it’s just smiling at them and actually seeing them, or if you can listen for a while without judgment (very tough to do, if you do it right, but necessary), or if you can run an errand for someone who’s shut-in, or if you can be good to a stray animal and find that animal a home…every little bit helps.
When I’m depressed, or worse, despondent, I think that everything I’ve done has no meaning. I am honest about this, which I guess is unusual in and of itself.
I know it does have meaning, though. Even if I don’t exactly know what that meaning is, I know it does.
So, I will continue to do my best to reject hate in all its forms. I will continue to do my best to help others, as best I can. And I will continue to live my life on my own terms, and hope I can affect others’ lives for the better in the process.
May we all choose to reject hate. (Please?)
Hey, #MLB: What’s With the Terrible Umps?
This year in baseball, I’ve seen more awful calls by umpires than ever before.
I know this seems hyperbolic, but it’s true. The umps have made bad call after bad call after bad call. I don’t know who’s supervising them, but something has to be done.
Why am I saying this, other than the fact that I’m annoyed with the umps? Because over the weekend, my Milwaukee Brewers had a series with the Minnesota Twins in Minnesota. The umpires, led by crew chief Brian Gorman, made plenty of bad calls, most having to do with the strike zone. (For non-baseball fans, the strike zone is generally from the batter’s knees to the top of the letters on his jersey. The pitch also has to be reasonably close to the batter. Pitches that hit the zone but are in the opposite side’s batter’s box are balls, not strikes, because they’re too far away.)
But the most egregious thing was this: Bench coach Pat Murphy brought a lineup card out on Saturday night, and somehow managed to get ejected before the game even started. As Murphy is not known to be a hothead, and seems for the most part to be a rather calm and collected person, this made absolutely no sense whatsoever.
Now, you may be asking, “So, Barb, they have instant replay now. Why aren’t these calls being fixed by the instant replay folks?”
First, there is no such thing as an instant replay of a ball or strike count. No matter how bad it is, it can’t be challenged by instant replay.
Second, on the plays that can be challenged (such as a close play at first base, say), the instant replay people seem to get it wrong at least 40% of the time.
Third, sometimes it seems like all of the umpires have no idea what they’re doing in a major league baseball stadium. (And I say this being a fan of former umpire Ron Luciano, who was one of the most ebullient and charismatic umps to ever work a major league game.)
I know that major league baseball (MLB) has procedures to grade umpires on what they’re doing and what they’re not doing. But I have no idea if MLB realizes just how bad some of these umps are, as they don’t tell us anything about these evaluations.
Now, I will admit that I am especially frustrated because there have been not one, not two, but three umpires — female umps — in triple-A baseball in the past thirty to forty years that were every bit as good as the male umps, but never got a chance to umpire in a major league, regular season game.
Yet we have these yahoos out there, who are willing to throw out a bench coach before a pitch is ever thrown, and before a game has even started.
My solution would be to make the umpire evaluations public. (At least that they’re doing them. Please!) And take another look at the current female umps in the minor league system, if you would, ’cause I can’t believe they’d be any worse than some of the idiots we have up here now. (All apologies to the good umps, as I know there are still some in MLB. But really, this is just wrong.)
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