Family Violence Prevention

November is Family Violence Prevention Month. I was reminded of this when I received the Alberta Council of Women’s Shelters’ newsletter. The cover letter asks us to consider this over our next "coffee break". familyviolence

  • In the time it takes to brew a cup of tea, 3 woman in Canada will be assaulted by an intimate partner.
  • In the time it takes for an average coffee break – a child in Canada will be physically or sexually assaulted by a family member.
  • In the 24 hours it take to produce tea leaves into a tea bag – 31 abused women and their children will seek refuge in Alberta’s shelters.

How tragic that with all our advantages, we in Alberta have the shadowy distinction of leading the country in spousal assault, stalking, and domestic murder/suicide.

What can we do? Refuse to be silent. Name violence as violence. And in the larger community, be prepared to lobby, write, and boycott.

Such was the case with many good folks in America–who by the way, just had their own Domestic Violence Awareness Month in October. To Fox and HarperCollins, October was apparently old news, or it just didn’t register. These giant media outlets were poised to do interviews and publish O. J. Simpson’s book, "If I did It." But a beautiful thing happened. Ordinary and yes, some powerful people, said, "enough already!"

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Very Low Food Security

Ever on the lookout, your middlingly-intrepid scribe has uncovered another amazing achievement in euphemism.

Now I’m not saying we don’t need access to the occasional euphemism–especially if you’re a parent–but like everything else in life, there are limits.

We are all familiar with euphemisms for death, sex, and all those fun ones for excrement (and sex). And of course these days the U.S. Department of Defence, once the Department of War, spawns a new military euphemism everyday…oh let me see: smart bombs, collateral damage, safe bunkers, hard targets, hit ratios, surgical strikes, preemptive strike, friendly fire…stop me if you’ve heard these before. Yup, war is essentially bloodless.

Well, to the academy of deflection, in the category of poverty, I mean, low-income status, add: "very low food security."

Central Park, New York, May 2003
homeless new york

The U.S. government has proclaimed that Americans will never be hungry again. But they may experience "very low food security," or, "multiple indications of disrupted eating patterns and reduced food intake."

Hunger has hit the skids as an acceptable, and according to the U.S. Department of Agriculture, a scientifically accurate term. You see the term hunger isn’t "conceptually and operationally sound." It is instead "a consequence of food insecurity."

So gone are the embarrassing yearly reports that used the word ’hunger’ to describe those who can least afford to put food on the table. Which the Committee on National Statistics puts at a startling 11 percent of American households. Canadian stats are around 6 percent (Fraser Institute).

Of course when it comes to poverty, numbers are flexible things. But then, one percent is too much. And anything that serves to hide a problem that real people are facing does us all a huge disservice.

Euphemism in this context does exactly that. It subtly eases the friction we need to feel over hungry people. It anesthetizes our perception and allows us to turn away.

And the last thing we need is more excuses and ways to become less human, less merciful. Sorry, I mean the last thing we need is more avenues to a sumptuary engagement of personhood.

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Andrea House

Andrea House
Andrea3

I have a therapist. Now that’s a sentence I thought I’d never use. But there it is.

My wife encouraged me to see her. And now I too, am drawn into her circle.

What Andrea does:

She listens to the motion within you through the tips of her fingers and tells the strength of your ch’i by your colour.

While you lie surrounded by full, accepting colours, she works healing with her needles and her hands.

She gives you essence of oranges and white peonies. And other things that come all the way from China. And tea if you like.

She speaks wisdom to you. The wisdom of listening and living within your body. The wisdom of sleep cycles and daily rhythm.

From Heart’s Hotel CD
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She recalls for you your more genuine desires and gently helps you dismiss the phantom duties that exhaust you.

And then when she’s done all this she sends you home with songs.

And you drink red wine by a gas fireplace and listen to her voice–powerfully delicate.

And from your eastern window you regard the mystery and mercy of gathering night.

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  • Support Andrea’s trip to Nicaragua where, in her special way, she’ll be caring for kids in need. (Fundraiser, Thursday, Nov. 23rd, 7:30PM @ Acquired Tastes)

Time and Limit

I know my soul is exhausted when I’m on the cusp of something tremendously obvious, thinking I’m onto something startlingly original.

When my spirit is flat my thoughts are a naked man in a trench coat. In a flash they’re over and done with. Leaving nothing surprising or shocking–just silly and puerile and pitiable.

When my spirit is flagging sometimes the only remedy is the feeling of having all the time in the world. The feeling of open afternoons and eternal weekends.

There is only so much deconstruction and exhaustion tolerable. Only so long that time can be choked off. But construction, creativity, active and holy longing do not have limits. They cannot be exhausted. Cannot stop reviving things around them.

To know this, in the fog of the moors is to still be alive to possibility. To know, as I’ve just read, that God is sheer joy and that she made the world because sheer joy demands company (Aquinas) is to sense the blue heavens above the indefinite grey.

To know that God desires to sip hot Java from a paper cup with me across the table is to have time curve away from every clenching immediacy, and be.

Madison
Madison

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