We are sisters. We are daughters. We are mothers. We are neighbors, we are friends. We are caregivers, nurturers, students and educators. We are advocates, humanitarians, legislators, administrators and authors. We come in all shapes and sizes, all colors, cultures, and all hues. We inhabit all corners of the globe and represent every faith. We have lived and died in every historical era. We are beautiful. We are strong. We are intelligent and we are resilient. We are hope gained. We are flight above this mess. We are made from the dust of this precious earth and we are made in God's very image. We are women. Hear us...
Tonight Breaking Free* held their annual candlelight vigil for women in our city, and every city, who have been killed or driven to death by the despair that is modern day slavery/prostitution. Tonight i held a candle in the air for women who have lost their lives to human trafficking. Tonight i shed tears for women in my community who have had their dignity ripped/raped. Tonight my heart shattered for a woman who was stabbed 50 times and shoved into a trash can. Tonight my soul sank for the 19 year old who lost all hope and jumped from a bridge. Tonight i felt the stab of that knife and the impact of that concrete. Tonight i mourned the fact that what was once beautiful and precious (woman hood) became so abused, so neglected, so hated, so oppressed. Tonight i felt my own femininity commit suicide and i felt my womanhood murdered. Tonight i recognized that these women lost were my sisters, my daughters, my mothers, my neighbors, my friends.
To every woman whose life was stolen, i will not forget you. You were created in God's image and you were clothed in strength and dignity. You were not a whore, you were not a bitch. You were beautiful, beautiful women.
*Breaking Free is a Twin Cities organization serving women and girls involved in systems of abuse, exploitation and prostitution/sex-trafficking. "Sisters helping sisters break free." http://www.breakingfree.net/
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Caged Birds & Anti-trafficking Words. (a poem & an index)
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings. *Maya Angelou
The free bird leaps on the back of the wind
and floats downstream till the current ends
and dips his wings in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.
But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage
can seldom see through his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of the things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom.
The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom.
I’m starting (or attempting to start) this blog to share my own education and experiences dealing with freedom and the lack thereof. I’ve seen some crazy things with my eyeballs and felt even crazier things inside my ribcage. While many people might not feel that this subject relates to their situations in life, i heartily disagree. This relates to anyone and everyone who’s ever used the word “Freedom” and claimed to know what it means. It relates to everyone who’s ever wanted to use the word “Freedom” and wanted to know what it means. Humans were born to be free, and i was born to fight for a world where that might someday be true.
This entry serves as a poetic interlude and an index for the rest of this blog. The words of Maya Angelou have been important to me for quite some time, but when i read them in an anti-trafficking context, they began to breathe new life. The poem “Caged Bird” is one of my favorite collections of words and it has inspired all of the words you will read in this blog. You might tell me that this poem was not really written about modern-day slavery, but you cannot stop me from being inspired by it in this way! And you cannot take away the fact that i've heard the songs of caged birds around the world and i'm trying to do something about it. If you decide to follow my stream-of-consciousness waves of thought, the topics of this blog will include:
1.) Anti-trafficking conferences/events i’ve attended of late
2.) Current trafficking laws & the need for freedom to be written into our legislation
3.) The ‘shattered hearts’ of the American Indian women who’ve been trafficked
4.) Stories of survivors here in the Twin Cities
5.) The work of my super-hero co-workers at IJM
6.) The nasty problem of prostitution (leave your prejudice/assumptions at the door- this isn’t what you think) annnndd
7.) Whatever else pops into my crazy head
It is my hope that I can say at least one new thing to you and reveal it in a way that is somewhat unique. It’s my hope that I can learn & grow myself into a full-blown abolitionist. Journey with me, will you? Open your eyes. Clean out your ears. Remember the organ that beats in your chest. Then maybe someday we can all sing freedom.
The free bird leaps on the back of the wind
and floats downstream till the current ends
and dips his wings in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.
But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage
can seldom see through his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of the things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom.
The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom.
I’m starting (or attempting to start) this blog to share my own education and experiences dealing with freedom and the lack thereof. I’ve seen some crazy things with my eyeballs and felt even crazier things inside my ribcage. While many people might not feel that this subject relates to their situations in life, i heartily disagree. This relates to anyone and everyone who’s ever used the word “Freedom” and claimed to know what it means. It relates to everyone who’s ever wanted to use the word “Freedom” and wanted to know what it means. Humans were born to be free, and i was born to fight for a world where that might someday be true.
This entry serves as a poetic interlude and an index for the rest of this blog. The words of Maya Angelou have been important to me for quite some time, but when i read them in an anti-trafficking context, they began to breathe new life. The poem “Caged Bird” is one of my favorite collections of words and it has inspired all of the words you will read in this blog. You might tell me that this poem was not really written about modern-day slavery, but you cannot stop me from being inspired by it in this way! And you cannot take away the fact that i've heard the songs of caged birds around the world and i'm trying to do something about it. If you decide to follow my stream-of-consciousness waves of thought, the topics of this blog will include:
1.) Anti-trafficking conferences/events i’ve attended of late
2.) Current trafficking laws & the need for freedom to be written into our legislation
3.) The ‘shattered hearts’ of the American Indian women who’ve been trafficked
4.) Stories of survivors here in the Twin Cities
5.) The work of my super-hero co-workers at IJM
6.) The nasty problem of prostitution (leave your prejudice/assumptions at the door- this isn’t what you think) annnndd
7.) Whatever else pops into my crazy head
It is my hope that I can say at least one new thing to you and reveal it in a way that is somewhat unique. It’s my hope that I can learn & grow myself into a full-blown abolitionist. Journey with me, will you? Open your eyes. Clean out your ears. Remember the organ that beats in your chest. Then maybe someday we can all sing freedom.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
The Front Lines- a battle cry.
I thought that returning from my IJM internship in India meant that i was leaving "the front lines" or "the field" of human trafficking activity. Now that i am 8 months post-India, i'm not so sure that is the case. While in India, i was in awe of the fact that i was meeting former slaves and i reveled in the realization that, in a small way, i helped put "former" in front of their title. I revel in that realization today and i will revel in it forever. But i'm beginning to understand that the freeing of slaves is not as other-worldly as i once imagined.
In the last few months, i have met several survivors of slavery right here in the Twin Cities, Minnesota. I wept as i listened to their stories spoken in my own language, no translator necessary. This was not a world away, these women were bought and sold a few blocks away. Under different circumstances, i could have been that girl forced onto a street corner; i could have been that woman chained in a brothel. Please understand that i'm not exaggerating. I'm not in the business of falsifying stories that are already too terrible to embellish.
I never left the front lines of slavery at all. There's no such thing as leaving the front lines of a crime that's blanketing the globe, suffocating it slowly. When I talk about working on the front lines or on the field, from now on i'm simply referring to Earth. So welcome to the field, folks; If you're alive, you're on it! We're all on the field of human trafficking because this horrible issue deeply affects every country and every culture. And for those of us who've had the good fortune to be born and raised in freedom, there aren't that many positions that we can play. You can be the offender (a perpetrator/slave owner). You can be the defender (an abolitionist). Or you can be the passive spectator (a silent bystander who is ignorant of slavery or who simply ignores it).
Which position will you be playing today?
In the last few months, i have met several survivors of slavery right here in the Twin Cities, Minnesota. I wept as i listened to their stories spoken in my own language, no translator necessary. This was not a world away, these women were bought and sold a few blocks away. Under different circumstances, i could have been that girl forced onto a street corner; i could have been that woman chained in a brothel. Please understand that i'm not exaggerating. I'm not in the business of falsifying stories that are already too terrible to embellish.
I never left the front lines of slavery at all. There's no such thing as leaving the front lines of a crime that's blanketing the globe, suffocating it slowly. When I talk about working on the front lines or on the field, from now on i'm simply referring to Earth. So welcome to the field, folks; If you're alive, you're on it! We're all on the field of human trafficking because this horrible issue deeply affects every country and every culture. And for those of us who've had the good fortune to be born and raised in freedom, there aren't that many positions that we can play. You can be the offender (a perpetrator/slave owner). You can be the defender (an abolitionist). Or you can be the passive spectator (a silent bystander who is ignorant of slavery or who simply ignores it).
Which position will you be playing today?
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