An Open Letter To Ms. Leslie Jones

Dear Ms Jones,

You don’t know me. I’m just one of the countless nameless geeks and nerds of the world. I am also a woman. I am not white and I have no money.

That renders me pretty much voiceless in a world where only white males are heard; are listened to.

However I would like to write something, in the odd chance it ends up reaching you.

I was a teenager when the first Ghostbusters came out. I -like a million others- loved it. It became somewhat of a cult for me. Continue reading

Sticks and Stones

Sticks and stones will break my bones But words will never harm me.

From Wikipedia:

“Sticks and Stones” is an English language children’s rhyme. It persuades the child victim of name-calling to ignore the taunt, to refrain from physical retaliation, and to remain calm and good-natured.

Sensible advice that, to remain calm and good-natured.

I have no problem with remaining calm.

But the truth is – as any person who’s ever been bullied can tell you, words can and do harm you.

Words can and do hurt you.

Words can and do cause you great pain.

Words can even lead you to suicide. Continue reading

Humpday Musings

While talking to a wise friend of mine and fellow blogger, I commented with sadness “and that is precisely the tragedy of human beings. To be utterly incapable of communicating with each other.”

Even with the best of intentions, we seem incapable of getting our point across without getting angry, offended, or at the very least, misunderstood.

Life, the universe and everything have a very bizarre way of hinting things at me, I find.

All of this was brought about by three things that pretty much appeared at the same time on my FB newsfeed, one after the other. 1. An article, 2. A meme, and 3. A quote.

The article: 12 things white people can do now because Ferguson.* Now, if you know anything about me, you know that I have never had a problem with thing # 10. I’ll go ahead and put it here in case you don’t feel inclined to read the whole thing**.

10. Don’t be afraid to be unpopular.

My heart weeps

There are no words.

How do you console a mother brutally robbed of her son, with no hope for justice.

How do you comfort a woman – a mother of three, whose life has been destroyed because she was in danger and dared to try and warn the offender.

What do you tell those three children who now have to grow up with no hope of having a somewhat normal childhood and no hope of having a right sense for justice.

What do you do when women get their eyes gauged out or their fingers cut off by their husbands because they dared to dream of an education. When girls get shot because they have a thirst for knowledge.

What do you tell countless other children and women around the world. How do you protect them. How do you keep them safe.

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