assalamu alaikum,
You know, the past two weeks have been hellish. InshaAllah this is the worst I have to experience in learning something.
It hasn't been the best year for learning, but I can point to microbio and anatomy and definitively say I'm not stupid. But the education classes I attempted/took, and now this arabic intensive, are not working out.
I'm frustrated. I cry daily over a single class for so many reasons. I feel that somewhere maybe I'm doing something wrong (what am I doing wrong?!) or that I'm not spending enough time studying (because studying to 3 AM isn't enough TIME) and then I have to restrain myself from coming out of my mouth on my teacher and my classmates and
and I give.
I give.
There are 3 more days of this course and then I'm done stressing about it. The reaction from the teacher and some of the administrators and even some of my classmates has made me think they have this opinion that I just want to be frustrated, that I don't want to learn.
Nothing could be as far from the truth. This is my fourth language. This is a language close to my spirit and my heart. I still love memorizing. (I'm finally really working on ayat al kursi, and it's working- especially when I have people to feed it to me and explain what it means. Easier to pick up that way.)
So while I'm done with (edited to redact institution name) mentally at this point, I'm not giving up on Arabic.
I feel remorse for having my friends see me get so low over this. I'm just sick and tired of being angry and frustrated. Time to be happy now. I'm done.
TwennyTwo
Showing posts with label nuts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nuts. Show all posts
Monday, August 03, 2009
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Beneficent doesn't mean unbiased; Bias doesn't mean bigot
Assalamu Alaikum,
Funny thing about words. Words can do so much. As kids my siblings and I learned that old chant early: 'Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.'
Untrue, untrue, my now-self calls back to my childhood. I've forgotten most of the scrapes, cuts, bruises I've had, but I clearly remember words and conversations from when I was three years old. And now the potential energy of words is coming to the face of the consciousness of my community and our country.
So the other night, I stayed up until about 4 AM discussing just such an instance of hurtful words. And during the conversation, my words were twisted, biased generalizations were drawn based on another's perception of who I am, and of course I heard my entire race- and then all of the males in my race- maligned and denigrated. I was told that my viewpoint was hurtful, that I insinuated that another person was racist, that I assumed that anyone against me must be racist- but that another's viewpoint was righteous and of course based in reality.
You could say I had a normal day that lasted into the wee hours, really.
I want to get back to that conversation in a moment. By now, since President Obama so graciously used his valuable time and remarked upon it not once but twice, nearly everyone has heard about the incident of Professor Henry Louis Gates' arrest by Seargeant James Crowley. It has been the topic of direct and indirect discussion around the country for nearly a week, now.
I normally don't watch TV at all, but was perusing various reactions and saw this (yes, I know, CNN. Better for domestic racial commentary than the BBC and other international news.)
Tim Wise makes an excellent point:
I think for the most part Mr. Wise hit the target. What I did not hear him say, is that Black folk have biases, too. Everyone has biases.
I have to say that I knew of Professor Gates before the incident, and in my mind he was (and is, really), one of those 'Famous Black Americans'. Ar-um... how do I explain that? When I was a child, my parents and community really worked to instill a sense of foundation that was based on examples of education, determination, and pride from among Black America. I grew up in the '80s and then the '90s, so I really caught the tail end of being raised 'Black and Proud' in the arms of the survivors and the heroes and the children of the 1950's-60's civil rights movement. I have grown into an adult who knows how very very crucial that foundation was.
So I knew about Dr. Gates who was a great social scientist and researcher, and I heard about the news that he taught at Harvard (though to tell the truth, Dr. Cornell West is more famous in my perception), and I was delighted when I returned to DC from PR (so this would've been 2005 or 2006) to catch the first installment of African American Lives on PBS. I knew that man, and I loved that series. (The second series was just as good. Yes, he had Soledad O'Brien beat before she got started, in my opinion.) So yes, I was astounded to hear about the arrest... and at the same time, yes, part of me was about the least surprised person on earth. You see, I knew that Professor Gates is smart and acccomplished; but I knew he is Black as well.
Reference Tim Wise's quote above.
I know all about inherent biases. Believe me, knowing about inherent bias was a theme wherever grownups were from the time I was still young enough to keep my hand grasped in my mother's skirts (she didn't wear pants until I was twelve), still young enough to peek at my father's spades hand from his lap, not old enough to ask questions and be told to stay out of grown folks' bidness. Inherent bias didn't take that term, though. The theme instead was, 'We have to do twice as much to get half the recognition', or 'Got to walk on water; and still these folks will wonder why you don't make yourself a boat'.
As we grew older my mother would go on and on about the importance of being well-groomed and neat. "You're already taller and more noticeable"- meaning because of our chocolate skin- "so you need to look nicer and be more courteous than most". Heh, but she refused to (and probably couldn't afford to, now that I think on it) buy the Donna Karan, the Coach, the Guess, the Jordans to make us fit in- a clean appearance was what counted... sigh. That was my childhood. Then I became an adult, sat with the grown folks, and listened to my aunts and my grandfather trade stories of how "these white folks" would look for any way to get 'us' out of our own success stories. How paper trails are essential, how evidence is crucial; how the least offence can and will be magnified against you. 'Don't forget, you're smart, you're beautiful, and you're still Black', ran the advice of my elders. And then I had a couple of jobs where I found out the truths behind the family lore for myself.
That's not a story for today. Point is, the guests in the video are educating the uninitiated in something that is not a small fact of minority life (and certainly my life) in this country and heck, in this world. Most people act upon their biases; and if you're on the negative/minority/less empowered side of a bias you will see, eventually, those actions based on bias affect you negatively. You can work hard and avoid most of the craziness, but you will see those biases come out against you. Like it or not. The End.
Because I know all about inherent biases, and because of the frequency of their being acted out in the actions and perceptions of those around me, I become less outraged when I recognize them, and less invested in actively correcting the subtle biases. As my Aunt C would say: "I don't have the time." I see this kind of mess all the time, and it's tiring enough just to ignore the subtle bovine scatulation in my way, and stay about my own business. You train the children in your village accordingly, if you have the foundation I do, suck it up and do better than your best, and leave the rest to God.
Until you need to have the conversations that last all night, as I did the other night.
I overheard a friend of mine, a prospective taxi driver, say into his cell phone, "yeah, and I might have to leave Black people", in the context of his conversation, as if to say he wouldn't be picking up Black people. He didn't qualify the statement, didn't say scary looking Black people or thugs, or black and white crazies. He said what he said.
To be frank, I was stung. I was at the house of a very dear friend, and to hear him say that... took me out of my context, where I was comfortable, and into one where I was in a room with someone with those negative inherent biases who had no problem with putting them into play even though I was in his line of sight. Also, the man in question is a brown-skinned minority himself. So yeah, to have him say that pretty much in my face, if not to me, hurt. It was a very 'what the heck?' moment.
We were lucky to have just gone through Maidan's workshop on 'The Art of Prophetic Communication', so those things were fresh in our minds... yes, we used the concepts, especially those of considering the audience and how THEY hear our words.
What followed was an excellent example of what the entire country is doing and thinking and how we're reacting. Because what I said, when he was off the phone, was that for him to not pick up a Black person for the fact that they're Black, was racist. I immediately clarified- not that I thought HE was racist as a person, but that he needed to face the fact that what he said was racist, and that to take that particular action with no other basis, was wrong.
Ayyayyay. He was very hurt that I had called him racist. And he could never be a racist because people have been racist toward him. And he has Black friends! And then I had to say, no, you obviously didn't hear me say that I DON'T think you're racist. And then it became a discussion of words and how he wasn't into vocabulary. So he didn't see anything wrong with saying what he said the way he said it. And I had to sit down and explain it something like this:
I was exhausted at the end of that conversation, but it was so very necessary.
If life were fair, after that very exhausting conversation, I'd've had a Racism-free Day card or something, but alas. I think it was on Racism 101 on the Resist Racism blog that someone said that people of color literally experience racism daily, and that we let 95% of what happens, we let it go.
So then the next day, I had to explain to one of my fellow students in the Fawa.kih program (we had just completed mid-term evaluations of the program) why it is that I was angry, and why it was that it seemed inherently unfair that I should have to go see the teacher after class, and take advantage of the study time, instead of the other way around. Why it was that a LOT of the time, I just 'shut down' and shut up instead of voicing my opinion. It's because I already know that I am bigger than most; that I'm perceived as louder than most (even when I'm not; I do have a trained voice, won't lie), that I'm darker than most. In the USA, in any given situation, someone is more likely than not to already have some perception of me as negative; as a threat, or a danger, or aggressive, or unintelligent. That last hurts me most because I'm here to learn. And I am not a stupid woman. To be dismissed based on the craziness someone has learned to carry in their heads is insane, and if you see me as vocal, understand that I automatically don't say half of what I could and would and ought.
That's my life.
This is a really long post. It's been a while coming, and I may have something to say later. Comments are open and I welcome your thoughts.
peace
TwennyTwo
Funny thing about words. Words can do so much. As kids my siblings and I learned that old chant early: 'Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.'
Untrue, untrue, my now-self calls back to my childhood. I've forgotten most of the scrapes, cuts, bruises I've had, but I clearly remember words and conversations from when I was three years old. And now the potential energy of words is coming to the face of the consciousness of my community and our country.
So the other night, I stayed up until about 4 AM discussing just such an instance of hurtful words. And during the conversation, my words were twisted, biased generalizations were drawn based on another's perception of who I am, and of course I heard my entire race- and then all of the males in my race- maligned and denigrated. I was told that my viewpoint was hurtful, that I insinuated that another person was racist, that I assumed that anyone against me must be racist- but that another's viewpoint was righteous and of course based in reality.
You could say I had a normal day that lasted into the wee hours, really.
I want to get back to that conversation in a moment. By now, since President Obama so graciously used his valuable time and remarked upon it not once but twice, nearly everyone has heard about the incident of Professor Henry Louis Gates' arrest by Seargeant James Crowley. It has been the topic of direct and indirect discussion around the country for nearly a week, now.
I normally don't watch TV at all, but was perusing various reactions and saw this (yes, I know, CNN. Better for domestic racial commentary than the BBC and other international news.)
Tim Wise makes an excellent point:
Is it possible that Sgt. Crowley, though he is not by all appearances a bigot in any sense of the word, may have perceived Prof Gates’ behavior as more belligerent than he would have, had this been a white person?...
...White folks whether they’re cops or just average citizens, will oftentimes view the behavior of black people as more negative, more dangerous, more aggressive even more criminal than they would the very same behavior engaged in by a white person. And they don’t do that because they’re bigots or racist or bad people, and they do that because of what are called implicit biases, they don’t make us bad, but they happen. ~ Tim Wise, author of ‘White Like Me’
I think for the most part Mr. Wise hit the target. What I did not hear him say, is that Black folk have biases, too. Everyone has biases.
I have to say that I knew of Professor Gates before the incident, and in my mind he was (and is, really), one of those 'Famous Black Americans'. Ar-um... how do I explain that? When I was a child, my parents and community really worked to instill a sense of foundation that was based on examples of education, determination, and pride from among Black America. I grew up in the '80s and then the '90s, so I really caught the tail end of being raised 'Black and Proud' in the arms of the survivors and the heroes and the children of the 1950's-60's civil rights movement. I have grown into an adult who knows how very very crucial that foundation was.
So I knew about Dr. Gates who was a great social scientist and researcher, and I heard about the news that he taught at Harvard (though to tell the truth, Dr. Cornell West is more famous in my perception), and I was delighted when I returned to DC from PR (so this would've been 2005 or 2006) to catch the first installment of African American Lives on PBS. I knew that man, and I loved that series. (The second series was just as good. Yes, he had Soledad O'Brien beat before she got started, in my opinion.) So yes, I was astounded to hear about the arrest... and at the same time, yes, part of me was about the least surprised person on earth. You see, I knew that Professor Gates is smart and acccomplished; but I knew he is Black as well.
Reference Tim Wise's quote above.
I know all about inherent biases. Believe me, knowing about inherent bias was a theme wherever grownups were from the time I was still young enough to keep my hand grasped in my mother's skirts (she didn't wear pants until I was twelve), still young enough to peek at my father's spades hand from his lap, not old enough to ask questions and be told to stay out of grown folks' bidness. Inherent bias didn't take that term, though. The theme instead was, 'We have to do twice as much to get half the recognition', or 'Got to walk on water; and still these folks will wonder why you don't make yourself a boat'.
As we grew older my mother would go on and on about the importance of being well-groomed and neat. "You're already taller and more noticeable"- meaning because of our chocolate skin- "so you need to look nicer and be more courteous than most". Heh, but she refused to (and probably couldn't afford to, now that I think on it) buy the Donna Karan, the Coach, the Guess, the Jordans to make us fit in- a clean appearance was what counted... sigh. That was my childhood. Then I became an adult, sat with the grown folks, and listened to my aunts and my grandfather trade stories of how "these white folks" would look for any way to get 'us' out of our own success stories. How paper trails are essential, how evidence is crucial; how the least offence can and will be magnified against you. 'Don't forget, you're smart, you're beautiful, and you're still Black', ran the advice of my elders. And then I had a couple of jobs where I found out the truths behind the family lore for myself.
That's not a story for today. Point is, the guests in the video are educating the uninitiated in something that is not a small fact of minority life (and certainly my life) in this country and heck, in this world. Most people act upon their biases; and if you're on the negative/minority/less empowered side of a bias you will see, eventually, those actions based on bias affect you negatively. You can work hard and avoid most of the craziness, but you will see those biases come out against you. Like it or not. The End.
Because I know all about inherent biases, and because of the frequency of their being acted out in the actions and perceptions of those around me, I become less outraged when I recognize them, and less invested in actively correcting the subtle biases. As my Aunt C would say: "I don't have the time." I see this kind of mess all the time, and it's tiring enough just to ignore the subtle bovine scatulation in my way, and stay about my own business. You train the children in your village accordingly, if you have the foundation I do, suck it up and do better than your best, and leave the rest to God.
Until you need to have the conversations that last all night, as I did the other night.
I overheard a friend of mine, a prospective taxi driver, say into his cell phone, "yeah, and I might have to leave Black people", in the context of his conversation, as if to say he wouldn't be picking up Black people. He didn't qualify the statement, didn't say scary looking Black people or thugs, or black and white crazies. He said what he said.
To be frank, I was stung. I was at the house of a very dear friend, and to hear him say that... took me out of my context, where I was comfortable, and into one where I was in a room with someone with those negative inherent biases who had no problem with putting them into play even though I was in his line of sight. Also, the man in question is a brown-skinned minority himself. So yeah, to have him say that pretty much in my face, if not to me, hurt. It was a very 'what the heck?' moment.
We were lucky to have just gone through Maidan's workshop on 'The Art of Prophetic Communication', so those things were fresh in our minds... yes, we used the concepts, especially those of considering the audience and how THEY hear our words.
What followed was an excellent example of what the entire country is doing and thinking and how we're reacting. Because what I said, when he was off the phone, was that for him to not pick up a Black person for the fact that they're Black, was racist. I immediately clarified- not that I thought HE was racist as a person, but that he needed to face the fact that what he said was racist, and that to take that particular action with no other basis, was wrong.
Ayyayyay. He was very hurt that I had called him racist. And he could never be a racist because people have been racist toward him. And he has Black friends! And then I had to say, no, you obviously didn't hear me say that I DON'T think you're racist. And then it became a discussion of words and how he wasn't into vocabulary. So he didn't see anything wrong with saying what he said the way he said it. And I had to sit down and explain it something like this:
Look, I told (my amiga) earlier, that I don't think I could be in the position of a cab driver for exactly that reason; that I KNOW I would have to judge people on their appearance and possibly not give them a ride again based on their appearance. I don't know that I could do that.
But I do know that I have been Black for 28 years now. And I can tell you how it feels to hear you won't pick up a black person. If it weren't for the fact that I wear hijab, I'd STILL never get a cab- I'm bigger and darker than most cab drivers like. And as the lone black person in the room, I have to say that I know that I'm more likely to be the victim of a crime committed by another black person than anyone else here. So yes, I even understand using race as one factor when you look at someone and ask yourself if they're a threat to your safety. I would never ever say that you should do anything against your own safety. You must look out for your safety first and always, and I recognize that.
I also recognize that we must all do that, and we use stereotypes to do so. That's not my problem here.
My issue comes when you don't realize that what you are doing involves racism, and that it's a racist act. One lie does not a liar make; but it's still problematic when a person cannot look at an untruth they've told and know that they told a lie.
AND, when you say for example, that "It's black people's fault that I have to think like that, they've put themselves in that position", first, you're generalizing, and second, you've got your facts incorrect. For you to say that your perception of black people and your acting upon it is the fault of millions of people who don't even know you exist, is racist. Having black friends, black babies, what have you doesn't make what you said any less racist. And when you say it, you're sitting here looking at my skin!
You said, 'It's Black people's fault,' you said, 'Black people put themselves in that position.' But you tell me that it's not the case for me. That's offensive, because my skin is still Black, and I am a part of that group about whom you speak. My skin color didn't change in the last five seconds. If you said 'Black dudes', then okay, great, you exclude me from your racism, but you included my brother and my father. And if you would exclude us, then I'd ask you to stop generalizing based on your stereotypes. And don't delude yourself that what you're doing isn't racist. You have to care about your safety, you have to look out for number one first. But don't tell yourself that just because you're being safe, or even if it is necessary, that you're not doing something that is racist. It is.
You don't have to listen to me, and you don't have to care what I think of you. Because beyond this moment, I don't care- you may very well never see me again, ever. But, I would ask you to take this conversation as a tool and USE your words better. You never know when what we're saying can help you. Because, yeah, I don't think you're a racist person. I also don't want you to believe that because you mean well or don't mean ill, that how you say things doesn't count. It does. And it will. And anything good I have said isn't from me. And if you have taken anything bad from what I have said, it is from me, please accept my sincerest apologies.
I was exhausted at the end of that conversation, but it was so very necessary.
If life were fair, after that very exhausting conversation, I'd've had a Racism-free Day card or something, but alas. I think it was on Racism 101 on the Resist Racism blog that someone said that people of color literally experience racism daily, and that we let 95% of what happens, we let it go.
So then the next day, I had to explain to one of my fellow students in the Fawa.kih program (we had just completed mid-term evaluations of the program) why it is that I was angry, and why it was that it seemed inherently unfair that I should have to go see the teacher after class, and take advantage of the study time, instead of the other way around. Why it was that a LOT of the time, I just 'shut down' and shut up instead of voicing my opinion. It's because I already know that I am bigger than most; that I'm perceived as louder than most (even when I'm not; I do have a trained voice, won't lie), that I'm darker than most. In the USA, in any given situation, someone is more likely than not to already have some perception of me as negative; as a threat, or a danger, or aggressive, or unintelligent. That last hurts me most because I'm here to learn. And I am not a stupid woman. To be dismissed based on the craziness someone has learned to carry in their heads is insane, and if you see me as vocal, understand that I automatically don't say half of what I could and would and ought.
That's my life.
This is a really long post. It's been a while coming, and I may have something to say later. Comments are open and I welcome your thoughts.
peace
TwennyTwo
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
'I want to play by my ownself'
Assalamu Alaikum,
Alhamdulillah, Alhamdulillah, Subahallah wa bihamdihi, I enjoy and appreciate my job.
But the last couple weeks got a little hairy, let me tell you. And although the children can be (rarely) trying, no, it is most always an adult who is really working my nerves. I'm looking at you, morning-assistant-who-needs-instruction-as-much-as-any-student.
So, today was bliss. I got to work all by my lonesome.
If you're looking from the outside, it doesn't look like I did much. But for me it was INTEGRAL. My boss and several others have been making comments behind my back about my Achilles' heel: organization. Nevermind that they're pretty happy about how their children are treated and how they learn; nor that they won't bring themselves to say what they say behind my back to my face.
I'm far from the most organized person in the school.
I'm not denying that; I'm working on it. What's annoying is that a) I INHERITED a mess from the several teachers who worked before I did, since the last teacher was tossed out/ left precipitously (depending on who's telling the story) less than a month before I was hired. And she wasn't allowed back into the school to get her things. But that's not my story to tell. The annoying part about that is that I came into a mess and I'm good at tolerating mess and bad at organizing.
b) I TOLD my boss before he hired me that organization was my Achilles' heel. Famous last words.
So instead of listening to whining about the state of my room, today I got to spend time by myself, in my room, going through the files in the room, finding out what exactly is in there, throwing out old stuff. It felt good, to just DO what I needed to do without hearing the peanut gallery, you know? It reminded me of one of my favorite students, who loved to explain to me, "I just want to play by my ownself, Miss Two." Very matter of fact.
So that was good.
But then. Ah, then.
After chilling at the house of my wali, (good news), then praying maghrib-sunnah salah at the masjid (even better news there, which will also wait), I came home to the house, glad to see my parents after they took a trip south to see my aunts and grandfather.
Annnnnnd here is where I ask for dua'a, because JW is relapsing. He's losing it again. I won't go into details, but 2 minutes after I entered the house and my parents clued me in to what was going on, the phone rang...
...and it was the police.
Long story short, alhamdulillah JW is okay and not in custody or anything like that, but only because my parents kept him out. He's refusing to take his medicine. And I... I'm not despairing... but... to have the realization over and over again that this incredibly smart, bright, capable man, my little brother, is not right... hurts. It's bewhildering. Something you never in your wildest imagination think is possible, happens, and, yeah, it throws me for a loop.
... inshaAllah he'll be okay. He's talking about taking a gamble, moving to a city on the other side of the country, maxing out his credit cards, and just living there.
What do you say to that? It'd be fine, except that he isn't right in the head. This is not normal twenny-something stuff, this is insanity. I do not want JW to end up anything but happy, clean, healthy...
I dunno.
I need to go play by my ownself. I've already asked so many people to pray, to sincerely put this before Allah swt, and that was before tonight. I'm doing it still, because, wow. I thought work was pushing me... this is so much bigger. Only God knows what will happen, and only God can fix things ultimately.
I'm off to bed.
masalaama
Twenny
Alhamdulillah, Alhamdulillah, Subahallah wa bihamdihi, I enjoy and appreciate my job.
But the last couple weeks got a little hairy, let me tell you. And although the children can be (rarely) trying, no, it is most always an adult who is really working my nerves. I'm looking at you, morning-assistant-who-needs-instruction-as-much-as-any-student.
So, today was bliss. I got to work all by my lonesome.
If you're looking from the outside, it doesn't look like I did much. But for me it was INTEGRAL. My boss and several others have been making comments behind my back about my Achilles' heel: organization. Nevermind that they're pretty happy about how their children are treated and how they learn; nor that they won't bring themselves to say what they say behind my back to my face.
I'm far from the most organized person in the school.
I'm not denying that; I'm working on it. What's annoying is that a) I INHERITED a mess from the several teachers who worked before I did, since the last teacher was tossed out/ left precipitously (depending on who's telling the story) less than a month before I was hired. And she wasn't allowed back into the school to get her things. But that's not my story to tell. The annoying part about that is that I came into a mess and I'm good at tolerating mess and bad at organizing.
b) I TOLD my boss before he hired me that organization was my Achilles' heel. Famous last words.
So instead of listening to whining about the state of my room, today I got to spend time by myself, in my room, going through the files in the room, finding out what exactly is in there, throwing out old stuff. It felt good, to just DO what I needed to do without hearing the peanut gallery, you know? It reminded me of one of my favorite students, who loved to explain to me, "I just want to play by my ownself, Miss Two." Very matter of fact.
So that was good.
But then. Ah, then.
After chilling at the house of my wali, (good news), then praying maghrib-sunnah salah at the masjid (even better news there, which will also wait), I came home to the house, glad to see my parents after they took a trip south to see my aunts and grandfather.
Annnnnnd here is where I ask for dua'a, because JW is relapsing. He's losing it again. I won't go into details, but 2 minutes after I entered the house and my parents clued me in to what was going on, the phone rang...
...and it was the police.
Long story short, alhamdulillah JW is okay and not in custody or anything like that, but only because my parents kept him out. He's refusing to take his medicine. And I... I'm not despairing... but... to have the realization over and over again that this incredibly smart, bright, capable man, my little brother, is not right... hurts. It's bewhildering. Something you never in your wildest imagination think is possible, happens, and, yeah, it throws me for a loop.
... inshaAllah he'll be okay. He's talking about taking a gamble, moving to a city on the other side of the country, maxing out his credit cards, and just living there.
What do you say to that? It'd be fine, except that he isn't right in the head. This is not normal twenny-something stuff, this is insanity. I do not want JW to end up anything but happy, clean, healthy...
I dunno.
I need to go play by my ownself. I've already asked so many people to pray, to sincerely put this before Allah swt, and that was before tonight. I'm doing it still, because, wow. I thought work was pushing me... this is so much bigger. Only God knows what will happen, and only God can fix things ultimately.
I'm off to bed.
masalaama
Twenny
Thursday, June 11, 2009
New Rules!
Assalamu Alaikum,
Yes, new rules, ala Bill Mahr, even though I haven't watched him in YEARS.
10: IF you are driving, you must pay attention to the road. There is no makeup exemption to this rule. This rule applies double during inclement weather.
9: If you hit someone, you must call the police. Failing to hit and run does not exempt you.
8: IF you do not have insurance, do not give an insurance information card that is 3 years old.
7: Your boyfriend cannot call the person YOU hit to intimidate them out of going to the doctor.
6: All people who are represented on household insurance must be spouses.
5: You may not call the person you hit and ask for their insurance information in order to pay the damages.
4: Yellow lights do not mean GO.
3: Never ASSUME anything.
2: Not having your wipers on is ILLEGAL in the rain.
1. RED MEANS STOP.
Anyone want to guess what happened to me yesterday? Alhamdulillah I'm fine; have whiplash, but treatable. The Pimp Car (tm) is also fine, alhamdulillah. But it was a real waste of a Wednesday.
peace
TwennyTwo
Yes, new rules, ala Bill Mahr, even though I haven't watched him in YEARS.
10: IF you are driving, you must pay attention to the road. There is no makeup exemption to this rule. This rule applies double during inclement weather.
9: If you hit someone, you must call the police. Failing to hit and run does not exempt you.
8: IF you do not have insurance, do not give an insurance information card that is 3 years old.
7: Your boyfriend cannot call the person YOU hit to intimidate them out of going to the doctor.
6: All people who are represented on household insurance must be spouses.
5: You may not call the person you hit and ask for their insurance information in order to pay the damages.
4: Yellow lights do not mean GO.
3: Never ASSUME anything.
2: Not having your wipers on is ILLEGAL in the rain.
1. RED MEANS STOP.
Anyone want to guess what happened to me yesterday? Alhamdulillah I'm fine; have whiplash, but treatable. The Pimp Car (tm) is also fine, alhamdulillah. But it was a real waste of a Wednesday.
peace
TwennyTwo
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
People are Hungry. What do I do about it?
Assalamu Alaikum,
First, I said I would talk about Fawakih. It has been hard but rewarding work, with an awesome series of speakers and opportunities. I do want to talk more about it, but I'm crunched for time! Intensive means just that.
And now, promise fulfilled, I have a challenge for every one who reads this.
What I wanted to talk about was hunger. When there are people who are hungry, we have to constantly agitate to make sure that our zakat gets to them.
I read this article, and earlier this year the ones linked inside it, and wanted to cry. I have been hungry in my lifetime. Even during that time I had food to eat once a day.
People are eating dirt in Haiti. Why are we not paying attention?
I know the article approaches from a nationalistic and racial perspective, and I'm ignoring that because the fact is that people. are. hungry. Really hungry. Eating dirt cookies hungry. That's crazy. And Haiti? Is closer to this mainland than Puerto Rico, which is a part of the USA. So proximity shouldn't be dictating things like this.
So. Do something. Small, like find a charity in Haiti (unfortunately mostly Christian) and donate. Or larger, like writing a letter to your congressional representative regarding our policies toward Haiti and countries in similar situations.
I'm sure there are other things to do, so if you have a suggestion, bring it up. But I challenge you right now, while you've already eaten in the past 24 hours and dirt had nothing (inshaAllah) to do with your meal. Do something for those who can't eat.
peace
TwennyTwo
First, I said I would talk about Fawakih. It has been hard but rewarding work, with an awesome series of speakers and opportunities. I do want to talk more about it, but I'm crunched for time! Intensive means just that.
And now, promise fulfilled, I have a challenge for every one who reads this.
What I wanted to talk about was hunger. When there are people who are hungry, we have to constantly agitate to make sure that our zakat gets to them.
I read this article, and earlier this year the ones linked inside it, and wanted to cry. I have been hungry in my lifetime. Even during that time I had food to eat once a day.
People are eating dirt in Haiti. Why are we not paying attention?
I know the article approaches from a nationalistic and racial perspective, and I'm ignoring that because the fact is that people. are. hungry. Really hungry. Eating dirt cookies hungry. That's crazy. And Haiti? Is closer to this mainland than Puerto Rico, which is a part of the USA. So proximity shouldn't be dictating things like this.
So. Do something. Small, like find a charity in Haiti (unfortunately mostly Christian) and donate. Or larger, like writing a letter to your congressional representative regarding our policies toward Haiti and countries in similar situations.
I'm sure there are other things to do, so if you have a suggestion, bring it up. But I challenge you right now, while you've already eaten in the past 24 hours and dirt had nothing (inshaAllah) to do with your meal. Do something for those who can't eat.
peace
TwennyTwo
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Where y'all at?
Assalamu Alaikum,
Okay, I'm getting bored with this whole blogging to the empty audience thing.
A while ago I was debating quitting my blog entirely. While I don't want to do that, I do need to change this up and make it interesting.
The other evening I was at a banquet with an Ambassador as speaker, and it was like a big awakening for me. And I realized that since I left college I've not had a lot of juicy conversation or deep things to think about. I need that. So, I'm opening the conversation. Get comfy and give me a good one. Or make me laugh. Up to you.
Here is the one caveat: I reserve the right to answer with 'No Comment' or a flip answer if a question is vulgar or otherwise not appropriate for my page, got me? That's not a cop-out, either, I'll get personal, even, up to a point. The point being haraam topics and/or my father would kill me. A girl has to live... now and hereafter.
Go ahead! GET me started....
peace
TwennyTwo
Okay, I'm getting bored with this whole blogging to the empty audience thing.
A while ago I was debating quitting my blog entirely. While I don't want to do that, I do need to change this up and make it interesting.
SO: Ask me a question. Any question. I'll answer them on the blog. I want to know what you want to know! This'll help spice things up and give me something to write about that isn't a complete ramble.
The other evening I was at a banquet with an Ambassador as speaker, and it was like a big awakening for me. And I realized that since I left college I've not had a lot of juicy conversation or deep things to think about. I need that. So, I'm opening the conversation. Get comfy and give me a good one. Or make me laugh. Up to you.
Here is the one caveat: I reserve the right to answer with 'No Comment' or a flip answer if a question is vulgar or otherwise not appropriate for my page, got me? That's not a cop-out, either, I'll get personal, even, up to a point. The point being haraam topics and/or my father would kill me. A girl has to live... now and hereafter.
Go ahead! GET me started....
peace
TwennyTwo
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Open. Your. Eyes.
Assalamu Alaikum,
Oh, man. Yesterday I needed someone to hold me back. I won't say what I did in the privacy of the teacher's lounge, because, well, it doesn't sound very nice. I hit a limit of fury yesterday. It's not good to feel that outdone at your place of employment.
Remember, I've said so many times that it's never the child who causes me problems. It's usually adults who won't act right.
Long story short, there's a female parent of a child who is causing problems because she's kicking up a fuss about her child.
Now, this is, at the root, what every parent wants to do. You all want your child to do well and you'll do what it takes to make that happen. You'll talk to the teachers and ask for extra work. You'll have him do that work, with a lot of help from you, under your very careful and watchful eye. You'll teach your child in the way of Allah. You'll help the child against herself when she needs it.
If this were that and only that, I could fully understand and bring the fullness of my patience to the situation. But it isn't. It's about this woman's refusal to see what her child does and how the child affects others. Like telling me you've enrolled your child in a pretty tough extra-curricular class and then telling me that you know your child, of course your child doesn't hit others. And of course, I should have a gentle and special way to have this child follow instructions, unlike the other children who obey me the first or even the second time I tell them something. Right. Just explain to me how out of 38 children how your child is the only one who is having accidents and being injured so, if your child never disobeys her teachers or hits and taunts the rougher kids until they snap. You seek that information, but when I tell you you don't see. Open your eyes!
I think another thing that bothers me is that there's another mother and another child who DO deserve help and the best of our resources, and I'm missing how both of these situations are being treated equally. And I'm sad that it probably means that neither of the children will be at our school next year. *sigh*. At least I'm not worried I won't be at the school next year.
I'm really sad for the first child I mentioned, because this child is so manipulative and sneaky that the child needs the boundaries that we provide. Really. Child A does so much better when we're firm but loving, that mother's insistence on being gentle and solicitous with this one child drives me wild- that isn't actually what will serve her child best, in my professional opinion. Anyway.
Yesterday we had about a half-hour meeting, and after that, I was through. I'm done. There are 26 school days left this year and I'm just going to work toward getting through all of them well, with smiling kids at the end. I'm also going to have to keep this child separated from certain others. Fine. You'll pay me to do that, it'll get done. And then I hope you go to another school, because that's the only way you'll learn exactly how your child is, and you'll learn to open your eyes.
And that's all I want to say about that.
In other news, I have no idea what I'm doing this summer, and May begins... tomorrow! My Master's application for the University of Conservopolis is due, um, tomorrow. Ask me if I've begun. No, don't. And gasoline is up to $3.65 a gallon here. A friend invited me to stay at her house five minutes from work, and at first I refused, until she made me accept (anyone else have Egyptian friends? I love her so much mashaAllah!), and then when I came out and saw how high gas was I was glad she beat me into it!
And... I think my last crush is off the potential marriage list. We'll see. He's going to Jordan for a year to learn Arabic starting this fall. I still think he's an awesome guy, but at the same time, this past weekend someone made me realize that um, I'm not unique in thinking that. His family is very well known, which I think is a big factor in that. And I want someone who wants me for me, not looking for an ideal social match. Not that he's said that or anything.
Off to work... make dua'a for me!
peace
TwennyTwo
Oh, man. Yesterday I needed someone to hold me back. I won't say what I did in the privacy of the teacher's lounge, because, well, it doesn't sound very nice. I hit a limit of fury yesterday. It's not good to feel that outdone at your place of employment.
Remember, I've said so many times that it's never the child who causes me problems. It's usually adults who won't act right.
Long story short, there's a female parent of a child who is causing problems because she's kicking up a fuss about her child.
Now, this is, at the root, what every parent wants to do. You all want your child to do well and you'll do what it takes to make that happen. You'll talk to the teachers and ask for extra work. You'll have him do that work, with a lot of help from you, under your very careful and watchful eye. You'll teach your child in the way of Allah. You'll help the child against herself when she needs it.
If this were that and only that, I could fully understand and bring the fullness of my patience to the situation. But it isn't. It's about this woman's refusal to see what her child does and how the child affects others. Like telling me you've enrolled your child in a pretty tough extra-curricular class and then telling me that you know your child, of course your child doesn't hit others. And of course, I should have a gentle and special way to have this child follow instructions, unlike the other children who obey me the first or even the second time I tell them something. Right. Just explain to me how out of 38 children how your child is the only one who is having accidents and being injured so, if your child never disobeys her teachers or hits and taunts the rougher kids until they snap. You seek that information, but when I tell you you don't see. Open your eyes!
I think another thing that bothers me is that there's another mother and another child who DO deserve help and the best of our resources, and I'm missing how both of these situations are being treated equally. And I'm sad that it probably means that neither of the children will be at our school next year. *sigh*. At least I'm not worried I won't be at the school next year.
I'm really sad for the first child I mentioned, because this child is so manipulative and sneaky that the child needs the boundaries that we provide. Really. Child A does so much better when we're firm but loving, that mother's insistence on being gentle and solicitous with this one child drives me wild- that isn't actually what will serve her child best, in my professional opinion. Anyway.
Yesterday we had about a half-hour meeting, and after that, I was through. I'm done. There are 26 school days left this year and I'm just going to work toward getting through all of them well, with smiling kids at the end. I'm also going to have to keep this child separated from certain others. Fine. You'll pay me to do that, it'll get done. And then I hope you go to another school, because that's the only way you'll learn exactly how your child is, and you'll learn to open your eyes.
And that's all I want to say about that.
In other news, I have no idea what I'm doing this summer, and May begins... tomorrow! My Master's application for the University of Conservopolis is due, um, tomorrow. Ask me if I've begun. No, don't. And gasoline is up to $3.65 a gallon here. A friend invited me to stay at her house five minutes from work, and at first I refused, until she made me accept (anyone else have Egyptian friends? I love her so much mashaAllah!), and then when I came out and saw how high gas was I was glad she beat me into it!
And... I think my last crush is off the potential marriage list. We'll see. He's going to Jordan for a year to learn Arabic starting this fall. I still think he's an awesome guy, but at the same time, this past weekend someone made me realize that um, I'm not unique in thinking that. His family is very well known, which I think is a big factor in that. And I want someone who wants me for me, not looking for an ideal social match. Not that he's said that or anything.
Off to work... make dua'a for me!
peace
TwennyTwo
Monday, February 11, 2008
Off again
assalamu alaikum,
I had the most horrifying, terrifying, distressing conversation with my brother JW yesterday.
Apparently he is off his meds. And suicidal. And extremely depressed.
Please pray. For his sanity and health. For mine. For my entire family.
It's extremely stressful to know that I feel behind and inadequate at work and to be the one my brother wants to help 'prop' him mentally.
Yesterday was a great day of tutoring for me- until I was talking to JW at one point on my cell phone while driving (which I detest doing- driving on the cell, I mean) the most narrow hair-raisingly constructed highway in the region in the huge Pimp Car (tm) hearing him tell me, after I told him quite forcefully that suicide is not an option and we'll help him work this out, "I wasn't actually asking for permission."
Okay, so what were you doing, giving me notice?!
My response:
"Good, because you aren't getting it!"
Just, please, pray. I need a mental health day and I don't have one. I need reinforcement. Dua'a requested.
peace
TwennyTwo
I had the most horrifying, terrifying, distressing conversation with my brother JW yesterday.
Apparently he is off his meds. And suicidal. And extremely depressed.
Please pray. For his sanity and health. For mine. For my entire family.
It's extremely stressful to know that I feel behind and inadequate at work and to be the one my brother wants to help 'prop' him mentally.
Yesterday was a great day of tutoring for me- until I was talking to JW at one point on my cell phone while driving (which I detest doing- driving on the cell, I mean) the most narrow hair-raisingly constructed highway in the region in the huge Pimp Car (tm) hearing him tell me, after I told him quite forcefully that suicide is not an option and we'll help him work this out, "I wasn't actually asking for permission."
Okay, so what were you doing, giving me notice?!
My response:
"Good, because you aren't getting it!"
Just, please, pray. I need a mental health day and I don't have one. I need reinforcement. Dua'a requested.
peace
TwennyTwo
Sunday, February 03, 2008
Therapeutic.
assalamu alaikum,
I've come to just accept the fact that I need to be seeing a therapist- or at least someone I can talk to about various issues etc who has to keep them confidential and can help me identify hitches in my thinking and self-control. Yes, that would be a therapist. I asked my halaqa leader today if he knew of some and he said he'd forward the numbers to me.
When I left DC, I knew that being in Conservopolis would help me solve a lot of my financial issues, those related to the cost of living. I thought that I'd be able to put more of my cash toward bringing down my credit debt, and I was right about that. But certain things are causing me distress, and I don't know how to fix them. I see a repeating pattern that isn't cool. Typical example? Aversion to outward organization. I hate. i. mean. utterly. detest. creating lesson plans- which is a problem seeing as how I earn my living as a teacher. I don't like any sort of paperwork at all. What I live for and thrive on is the actual teaching, the more individualized work.
That plus the feeling of being ill at ease and slightly ill for months now, means that something is up.
Worst is that I don't feel comfortable telling that to my family. We've got enough issues as it is. I just don't have the fortitude to tell my mother, for example, that I think I'm totally depresed, that I don't feel I have the time or inclination to do the things required to do my job well. Keep in mind that naturally my family draws a lot of parallels between me and JW. He just came out of the hospital and is fighting taking his meds still. I know something is not right, and I do talk the day-to-day things out with my mother, which is an absolute lifesaver, but I'm just reluctant to tell her that I think I'm slipping and may need more. She told me today that she's recovering, that she feels better, after years of dealing with various illnesses, her own and my grandmother's. I don't want to pull her down now- she's my rock and my lifeboat and it's good to finally see her feeling well.
When it got really bad in portareeco, I went to see the severely overloaded shrink at the teacher's hospital. I just knew that the thoughts I was thinking were a little out of the bounds, that everything was getting messier and a little less sane daily, that I was way stressed. The shrink told me I'd be okay. She gave me pills. I didn't want to take them but when I did, I declare they saved my life. They were samples, and I don't know that she entered all of that into my medical file, but by the time they ran out I was on summer break, a little more able to deal, only working one job, and (though I didn't know it yet) very close to returning to the mainland, which I thought would help. It did, and it didn't, because though being near the ones who understand me best is crucial, it isn't the ultimate fix. I don't know what is. I do know I have to get out of my head.
This blog started as an experiment, on a dare from Sherry, who I don't think even blogs anymore. Come to think of it, she pulled me through when I was going through major blues even in college. She and Anita. Anyway, the point I was going to make is that it quickly became therapeutic. When I was physically isolated from the familiar, I had my friends inside the computer to pull me through. I still had horizons to explore. It helped to just talk stuff out, even if it was inside the computer. No matter how cautious you are and how stiff the boundary with those you don't know, caring comes through. It was very necessary to speak up, let my 'self' be free, examine myself and what's going on and yeah, get to know other people and care for them too. I sometimes felt- and feel- that what keeps me hanging on is knowing that someone out there really truly needs me, cares for me, wants to see me every day. Hmm.
No matter where, when I start shutting down, going inside my head, and talking noticeably less, something is up. I'm working on getting it together. And getting it out a bit more. Of course I'm making dua'a. And asking for more, because of course this is when my level of iman is ebbing. It suffers.
peace
TwennyTwo
I've come to just accept the fact that I need to be seeing a therapist- or at least someone I can talk to about various issues etc who has to keep them confidential and can help me identify hitches in my thinking and self-control. Yes, that would be a therapist. I asked my halaqa leader today if he knew of some and he said he'd forward the numbers to me.
When I left DC, I knew that being in Conservopolis would help me solve a lot of my financial issues, those related to the cost of living. I thought that I'd be able to put more of my cash toward bringing down my credit debt, and I was right about that. But certain things are causing me distress, and I don't know how to fix them. I see a repeating pattern that isn't cool. Typical example? Aversion to outward organization. I hate. i. mean. utterly. detest. creating lesson plans- which is a problem seeing as how I earn my living as a teacher. I don't like any sort of paperwork at all. What I live for and thrive on is the actual teaching, the more individualized work.
That plus the feeling of being ill at ease and slightly ill for months now, means that something is up.
Worst is that I don't feel comfortable telling that to my family. We've got enough issues as it is. I just don't have the fortitude to tell my mother, for example, that I think I'm totally depresed, that I don't feel I have the time or inclination to do the things required to do my job well. Keep in mind that naturally my family draws a lot of parallels between me and JW. He just came out of the hospital and is fighting taking his meds still. I know something is not right, and I do talk the day-to-day things out with my mother, which is an absolute lifesaver, but I'm just reluctant to tell her that I think I'm slipping and may need more. She told me today that she's recovering, that she feels better, after years of dealing with various illnesses, her own and my grandmother's. I don't want to pull her down now- she's my rock and my lifeboat and it's good to finally see her feeling well.
When it got really bad in portareeco, I went to see the severely overloaded shrink at the teacher's hospital. I just knew that the thoughts I was thinking were a little out of the bounds, that everything was getting messier and a little less sane daily, that I was way stressed. The shrink told me I'd be okay. She gave me pills. I didn't want to take them but when I did, I declare they saved my life. They were samples, and I don't know that she entered all of that into my medical file, but by the time they ran out I was on summer break, a little more able to deal, only working one job, and (though I didn't know it yet) very close to returning to the mainland, which I thought would help. It did, and it didn't, because though being near the ones who understand me best is crucial, it isn't the ultimate fix. I don't know what is. I do know I have to get out of my head.
This blog started as an experiment, on a dare from Sherry, who I don't think even blogs anymore. Come to think of it, she pulled me through when I was going through major blues even in college. She and Anita. Anyway, the point I was going to make is that it quickly became therapeutic. When I was physically isolated from the familiar, I had my friends inside the computer to pull me through. I still had horizons to explore. It helped to just talk stuff out, even if it was inside the computer. No matter how cautious you are and how stiff the boundary with those you don't know, caring comes through. It was very necessary to speak up, let my 'self' be free, examine myself and what's going on and yeah, get to know other people and care for them too. I sometimes felt- and feel- that what keeps me hanging on is knowing that someone out there really truly needs me, cares for me, wants to see me every day. Hmm.
No matter where, when I start shutting down, going inside my head, and talking noticeably less, something is up. I'm working on getting it together. And getting it out a bit more. Of course I'm making dua'a. And asking for more, because of course this is when my level of iman is ebbing. It suffers.
peace
TwennyTwo
Monday, December 10, 2007
Lost his ever-loving mind
assalamu alaikum
I've been gone for a while. I know. I've thought about this place like every day. We've really been going through it, so I'm asking for dua'a. Long story short, my brother JW (I've mentioned him here in passing) is in the hospital about an hour north of Conservopolis. He's been there for more than two weeks; he was sent directly from his campus by his counselors and a favorite professor. He's very ill.
It is terrifying and horrifying to see. My brother is losing it. He's been diagnosed with a mental illness. Audhu billah.
It tears at my heart every time we've gone to see him (of the four of us close to him, one of us has been up to see him every day). It's clear that something is wrong. Please make dua'a and pray for his recovery.
JW is a national-class musician, with an amazingly quick mind. I've always said he was the brightest of all of us, even if his grades did not reflect all of that. Yesterday, alhamdulIllah, was the best day of all those he's been there- it was like seeing him again. Because at the first visit... his eyes were wild, and bloodshot. He was stopping to pause and detect the messages that were being transmitted through the hospital television monitor. He kept telling us that people were coming to kill him.
He meant it.
My family was okay before this and inshaAllah we'll be okay afterward. If different. As hard as it will be to pay for treatment, at least we live where there's an option. And thank God someone at that school noticed that something was wrong. I don't know how he'd have made it another three weeks at university without help. By the time they put him in he was clearly... sick.
I know I'm different. I hear myself when I say the word 'crazy' to mean 'weird or out of whack'. I remembered several times how I said the word 'shizo' to mean crazy in front of my friend, S. and how she reproached me. I know what she felt, now. I think the worry is the worst. But I'm ashamed of a lot of my internal reactions to all of this. I cringe at my reaction when I don't want to take the two hour round trip to the hospital after having worked all day. Last Monday I just took a day off and cleaned my mother's house (a bit. It needs like another two days. I just can't take them. Sigh.) instead of going to school like my life is normal and okay.
And since my parents worry whenever I miss a day of work ( like the 2 days my doctora demanded when I had the flu and strep at the same time= yay preschool) I neglected to inform them that I did so. I'm getting to the point where when I actually make a decision instead of dithering I'm extremely disinclined to defend or argue about it. I'd been letting some things slide and I realized that if JW isn't doing so well, I have to step up my game. I don't get the option of being depressed myself. I'd been slowly dissolving myself, letting certain things go, and I know that midwinter is never my best time. I know it was happening, and I was trying to get a hold of myself- and then JW was hospitalized. I got some issues to get out so I'll be blogging by hook or crook soon. I just hope I don't get called out, because the resulting meltdown would not be pretty. I'm glad my sister is here. She's my lifeline right now, as I am hers.
Yeah.
Oh, DP, I saw your comment and will be answering later, inshaAllah. Sisters, brothers, other friends inside the computer, if you read me, please comment. I like my friends inside the internet to be as vocal as I am in real life. And being alone is not what's up right now. Get at me...
peace
TwennyTwo
I've been gone for a while. I know. I've thought about this place like every day. We've really been going through it, so I'm asking for dua'a. Long story short, my brother JW (I've mentioned him here in passing) is in the hospital about an hour north of Conservopolis. He's been there for more than two weeks; he was sent directly from his campus by his counselors and a favorite professor. He's very ill.
It is terrifying and horrifying to see. My brother is losing it. He's been diagnosed with a mental illness. Audhu billah.
It tears at my heart every time we've gone to see him (of the four of us close to him, one of us has been up to see him every day). It's clear that something is wrong. Please make dua'a and pray for his recovery.
JW is a national-class musician, with an amazingly quick mind. I've always said he was the brightest of all of us, even if his grades did not reflect all of that. Yesterday, alhamdulIllah, was the best day of all those he's been there- it was like seeing him again. Because at the first visit... his eyes were wild, and bloodshot. He was stopping to pause and detect the messages that were being transmitted through the hospital television monitor. He kept telling us that people were coming to kill him.
He meant it.
My family was okay before this and inshaAllah we'll be okay afterward. If different. As hard as it will be to pay for treatment, at least we live where there's an option. And thank God someone at that school noticed that something was wrong. I don't know how he'd have made it another three weeks at university without help. By the time they put him in he was clearly... sick.
I know I'm different. I hear myself when I say the word 'crazy' to mean 'weird or out of whack'. I remembered several times how I said the word 'shizo' to mean crazy in front of my friend, S. and how she reproached me. I know what she felt, now. I think the worry is the worst. But I'm ashamed of a lot of my internal reactions to all of this. I cringe at my reaction when I don't want to take the two hour round trip to the hospital after having worked all day. Last Monday I just took a day off and cleaned my mother's house (a bit. It needs like another two days. I just can't take them. Sigh.) instead of going to school like my life is normal and okay.
And since my parents worry whenever I miss a day of work ( like the 2 days my doctora demanded when I had the flu and strep at the same time= yay preschool) I neglected to inform them that I did so. I'm getting to the point where when I actually make a decision instead of dithering I'm extremely disinclined to defend or argue about it. I'd been letting some things slide and I realized that if JW isn't doing so well, I have to step up my game. I don't get the option of being depressed myself. I'd been slowly dissolving myself, letting certain things go, and I know that midwinter is never my best time. I know it was happening, and I was trying to get a hold of myself- and then JW was hospitalized. I got some issues to get out so I'll be blogging by hook or crook soon. I just hope I don't get called out, because the resulting meltdown would not be pretty. I'm glad my sister is here. She's my lifeline right now, as I am hers.
Yeah.
Oh, DP, I saw your comment and will be answering later, inshaAllah. Sisters, brothers, other friends inside the computer, if you read me, please comment. I like my friends inside the internet to be as vocal as I am in real life. And being alone is not what's up right now. Get at me...
peace
TwennyTwo
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Oh, and can somebody tell me...
peace
... why there is a big butter-colored statue of a man supposed to be the Prophet Jesus peace be upon him not 20 miles up the road from the biggest masjid on I-75?! Madness. Y'know, as crazy as it got in portareeco they never had that.
I'm just sayin'.
peace
... why there is a big butter-colored statue of a man supposed to be the Prophet Jesus peace be upon him not 20 miles up the road from the biggest masjid on I-75?! Madness. Y'know, as crazy as it got in portareeco they never had that.
I'm just sayin'.
peace
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Allahu Alim, wa alhamdulIllah al haqq.
peace
They got him.
I'm no longer working there and the drama is done. I was considering working for this org after everything was finished. I doubt it. Right now I'm just tired.
They got him.
Friday I left the office at 2PM never to return, sad and worried that my intern would have to deal with someone I saw as a predator who doesn't know how to treat women. But after warning her, I could do no more. So I left.
Saturday was my last day working for that organization (I helped with a training that I started). When I talked to my direct supervisor as she came in to relive me (after two sleepless nights, really) she let me know that the reason the alarm had been changed on our building that morning was that they'd had to let that man go. Apparently he'd left some graphic pictures (!!) on the common (!!!) work (!!!) server. They were found, and it had to have been right after I left that he was summarily dismissed.
So thank you to everyone for your dua'a and watchfulness on that situation. I feel as if a weight has left me. I no longer have any problems with leaving that place. And as my former direct supervisor noted, the org. is in a hard place over staffing. It's no longer my problem at all.
peace
TwennyTwo
They got him.
I'm no longer working there and the drama is done. I was considering working for this org after everything was finished. I doubt it. Right now I'm just tired.
They got him.
Friday I left the office at 2PM never to return, sad and worried that my intern would have to deal with someone I saw as a predator who doesn't know how to treat women. But after warning her, I could do no more. So I left.
Saturday was my last day working for that organization (I helped with a training that I started). When I talked to my direct supervisor as she came in to relive me (after two sleepless nights, really) she let me know that the reason the alarm had been changed on our building that morning was that they'd had to let that man go. Apparently he'd left some graphic pictures (!!) on the common (!!!) work (!!!) server. They were found, and it had to have been right after I left that he was summarily dismissed.
So thank you to everyone for your dua'a and watchfulness on that situation. I feel as if a weight has left me. I no longer have any problems with leaving that place. And as my former direct supervisor noted, the org. is in a hard place over staffing. It's no longer my problem at all.
peace
TwennyTwo
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
He's still there, but I'm not
peace,
Long story short, he got out of it somehow. I think he told the executive director, when she called from vacation to ask what was going on, that he had no idea who that woman was or how she had his number at work. Then called one of his women and cursed her out for calling our exec. director (a call I took) for some reason. You know what? I don't know what is going on... but only God truly does, so I'm trusting Him to resolve it to His will.
And truly? As my sister so succinctly put it, "You've got 3 days left. Why do you care?"
I care because I'm leaving a young intern behind. So, after I warned her what she's up against, and let the executive director know what I've heard about this guy, I can do no more. Except say MashaAllah that I left when I did. Yah.
Meanwhile, there's an interview I got from UmmZ that's been languishing in my drafts since all of this began; time to move on and move up. Please keep me and my job hunt and the general husband search in your dua'a.
peace
TwennyTwo
Long story short, he got out of it somehow. I think he told the executive director, when she called from vacation to ask what was going on, that he had no idea who that woman was or how she had his number at work. Then called one of his women and cursed her out for calling our exec. director (a call I took) for some reason. You know what? I don't know what is going on... but only God truly does, so I'm trusting Him to resolve it to His will.
And truly? As my sister so succinctly put it, "You've got 3 days left. Why do you care?"
I care because I'm leaving a young intern behind. So, after I warned her what she's up against, and let the executive director know what I've heard about this guy, I can do no more. Except say MashaAllah that I left when I did. Yah.
Meanwhile, there's an interview I got from UmmZ that's been languishing in my drafts since all of this began; time to move on and move up. Please keep me and my job hunt and the general husband search in your dua'a.
peace
TwennyTwo
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Dangerous and scary. Dua'a please.
peace,
Okay, I'm trying not to get "Dooced" in my last couple days of work here, but I need to get this out.
Some time back I posted on the man who works in the same office with me who was harassing me, asking me out, wouldn't take no for an answer and apparently (from phone calls and his own accounts) had several women on a string. (And wanted to add me to it, pssht. Astaghfirullah.)
This is the man who wasn't released after that incident (I had email to back it up and was frankly mo' den a lil' creeped out), but we were both oriented as to the situation.
Make dua'a please. Last week, this guy walks in and mentions that he "may have broken someone's heart." As I try to stay well clear of him and his issues outside of work, I didn't ask more; he volunteered that he'd had to 'break up' with a certain woman.
This morning I got to work early in order to have some peace, and got to listen to a scary-licious voicemail from last night, meant for this man, from a woman crying, cursing, saying the police would be looking for him, that he'd beat and raped her and that he was the scum of the earth, obscenities, etc.
Now, I don't care what his excuse is. I don't want to have to work in the same office with him anymore. If that voicemail has anything to do with anything that is true, working with that man is a terrifying prospect. Because I already know that he can't take 'no' for an answer personally. And if it isn't true, then I'm wary of working with someone who associates with people who will lie and leave a voicemail like that at a place of employment.
Here's the kicker: the executive director heard of the voicemail from a co-worker, and therefore, instituted a lockdown on that piece of information. I heard the voicemail... but I'm not supposed to have heard it, in order to protect the co-worker.
That's just great. So what do I do when this guy walks into the office that we share?!
If asked directly, I'm not going to lie about it, but if not asked, I'll act as if I don't know anything. *sigh*. Pray for me please. PLEASE. Even without this I've got a lot on my plate in terms of tasks to finish... I need to just get through these last FOUR days inshaAllah.
A surah comes to mind:
"qul audhubirabbinnas..."
updates later inshaAllah.
Okay, I'm trying not to get "Dooced" in my last couple days of work here, but I need to get this out.
Some time back I posted on the man who works in the same office with me who was harassing me, asking me out, wouldn't take no for an answer and apparently (from phone calls and his own accounts) had several women on a string. (And wanted to add me to it, pssht. Astaghfirullah.)
This is the man who wasn't released after that incident (I had email to back it up and was frankly mo' den a lil' creeped out), but we were both oriented as to the situation.
Make dua'a please. Last week, this guy walks in and mentions that he "may have broken someone's heart." As I try to stay well clear of him and his issues outside of work, I didn't ask more; he volunteered that he'd had to 'break up' with a certain woman.
This morning I got to work early in order to have some peace, and got to listen to a scary-licious voicemail from last night, meant for this man, from a woman crying, cursing, saying the police would be looking for him, that he'd beat and raped her and that he was the scum of the earth, obscenities, etc.
Now, I don't care what his excuse is. I don't want to have to work in the same office with him anymore. If that voicemail has anything to do with anything that is true, working with that man is a terrifying prospect. Because I already know that he can't take 'no' for an answer personally. And if it isn't true, then I'm wary of working with someone who associates with people who will lie and leave a voicemail like that at a place of employment.
Here's the kicker: the executive director heard of the voicemail from a co-worker, and therefore, instituted a lockdown on that piece of information. I heard the voicemail... but I'm not supposed to have heard it, in order to protect the co-worker.
That's just great. So what do I do when this guy walks into the office that we share?!
If asked directly, I'm not going to lie about it, but if not asked, I'll act as if I don't know anything. *sigh*. Pray for me please. PLEASE. Even without this I've got a lot on my plate in terms of tasks to finish... I need to just get through these last FOUR days inshaAllah.
A surah comes to mind:
"qul audhubirabbinnas..."
updates later inshaAllah.
Monday, March 19, 2007
What does it look like?
What does a cry for help look like?
Poor performance at work?
Staying out of contact with friends and family?
Sudden quitting on the job?
Is it the homeless person on the street?
Or the girl sitting next to you with the vacant stare?
Or the man who can't sit still?
What does it look like?
What if you see it? What will you do?
What if you make one? Do you get through?
What does it look like?
Poor performance at work?
Staying out of contact with friends and family?
Sudden quitting on the job?
Is it the homeless person on the street?
Or the girl sitting next to you with the vacant stare?
Or the man who can't sit still?
What does it look like?
What if you see it? What will you do?
What if you make one? Do you get through?
What does it look like?
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