THAT WHICH BINDS US; AGAPE

At the trial to indict the man who murdered my sister, we waited in the court room corridor for what seemed like forever, before the trial in the morning, and again after lunch and before the afternoon session. The waiting was difficult and anxiety provoking, waiting to walk into a nightmare time and time again, we had to have courage. My family huddled together and "his" family huddled together, each in our own areas. I felt such overwhelming emotions when I saw "his" mother waiting down the hall from us on that first day; I was overcome. I soon found myself standing before the mother of the man who had murdered my sister. I asked her if she was "his" mother, more in the way of introducing one's self, and she said, "yes, I am." I told her June was my sister and she stood up to meet my eyes. Two hearts aching with loss facing one another, we stood. I told her I was sorry for her and she returned the sentiment. We had both lost people we loved when "he" killed June; I lost my sister and she lost her son. We wrapped our arms around each other and with God's Grace we were enveloped in a moment of Peace.

Just at that moment, the court room doors were flung open for us to enter and sit in our separate areas; me with my family in support of my sister and her with hers in support of her son. I took the stand that day to represent June and her life. She took the stand days later to represent her son and the goodness she knew lived within him. I recall feeling some resentment toward her in that moment, it passed quickly as I realized she guarded the dignity of her life in her testimony, just as I had preserved the dignity of my sister in mine.

The mother and I were brought together in that corridor of life and loss, but separated by the hollow belly serpent shaped by the flawed human form. She and I believed in the same God, our expressions toward one another represented our love and faith in that God. We were united in moments that will never leave my memory; we were united by our common faith and belief system, the belief that we are all imperfect beings, children of God. One lesson was seated deeply within me during that worst experience of my life: we are all vessels full of love from the time of our birth and the humanity we share can remain despite the gravest transgression. We all suffer. We are all imperfect and capable of life altering mistakes. Love is all encompassing. No matter what tragedies or ill treatment life serves up, you can choose to replenish and replace the love lost in those moments. Sadly, her son had not made that choice and carried hate in his heart, hate that attacked my sister and took her life.

At that trial, the trial to put away the man that took my older sister's life, I made a different choice. I chose to give absolution. I chose forgiveness. I chose to fill my body, my heart with love, to replenish my soul with forgiveness for all that was taken from me and is still to this day. I CHOOSE PEACE. I choose to fill my vessel with love, God's love. With my choices, I choose life. A choice my sister was not allowed to make.

--Victoria Hart

A TEACHER, A DUMB BLONDE, AND AN AUNTIE...

My child returned home from school yesterday informing me that something had happened in class that just seemed wrong to her. She told me how, while she was clarifying her homework assignment with her Language Arts teacher, the teacher responded, “Don’t stand there and give me that dumb blonde look.” All the children in the room stopped their chatter and stared at my daughter, a few of them gasping with disbelief.

I wish a gasp was all that came out of my mouth. Seething and with a deep sternness to my voice, I struggled to control my rage toward the teacher's actions. I told my child I would be at the school the next day to speak with this teacher and the principal. “But, can’t you just send a note?...” she asked, fearful of further discord. That question sent me off on a teaching tangent of my own with my daughter, I began by explaining to her that her teacher is there to mentor her, protect her, not demean her. I explained that by going to the school we would be taking a stand for what is right on behalf of all the children. All the children in that classroom were harmed by this careless remark, this flagrant label thrown out and onto my little 12 year old girl.

How do I explain this complex issue to my little one? She has studied Hitler and knows a small bit about why we remember, why we discuss him in history, I decided to try by starting there. I reminded her that Hitler began his hate crusade, resulting in the murder of 6 million Jews and others, with one simple speech. One. At first, I'm sure, after hearing his words of "hate" many went home and had their own thoughts and discussions on how they felt about what he said. But, he continued to make his speech, repeatedly (among other tactics) until many people no longer had independent thoughts, no longer questioned or searched for the truth. Labeling, as in "Dumb Blonde,” just one example of many, creates the same mindlessness. Labeling people strips them of their humanity, removes the person from the scene and allows those standing and observing the freedom to feel and further express the hate thrown into the room and onto the person.

Hate clothes itself in many disguises. Name-calling or labeling a person to a particular category or stereotype is a form of hate resulting in a self-fulfilling prophecy of sorts wherein the recipient or victim of the label will inevitably live up to the expectations and definitions of that label and along with the label comes preconceived ideas, connotations, discrimination, and worst of all, invites hate toward the individual from others, often without conscious awareness. It is a sneaky devil, a hate breeder. Sociologist Howard Becker, developed the Labeling Theory (also known as social reaction theory) in the book “The Outsiders” in 1963. The theory asserts that the process of labeling an individual by someone in a position of authority results in that person living up to the definitions of the label. One creates a situation far worse than the original one.

At the school the following day, I spoke with 2 principals and the Language Arts teacher. Upon my realization that the teacher was herself a blonde, compassion swept over my heart. I decided secretly to hold it there until I heard the teacher tell her side of the story. She did indeed agree that it was possible that she said something of the sort to my child. I expressed all my feelings about this situation to her and informed her that I am a “Seeker of Peace” and this set the tone for our meeting. I refuse the inclination to butt hate against hate, like the song by Todd Snider in which he says, “Fighting for peace is like screaming for quiet.” I do believe approaching a situation with an open heart and a reasonable mind results in a peaceful remedy. I further explained to these mentors I’ve entrusted, that my sister was murdered because of misplaced hate, my child was removed from a home with domestic violence to come live with me, and that my husband and I work very hard to teach our child self empowerment, but despite these reasons, I would still be sitting there making a wrong into a right. Maya Angelou has been quoted as saying and I too will say, “When you stand up, you stand up for everyone!”

Words are powerful, a knife cut heals, wounds inflicted by words almost never do, especially when a child is the recipient/victim. Thirty some odd children witnessed this teacher’s ill behavior and are highly likely to believe it is acceptable now, walking out of the room and continuing the subliminal messages of hate by using the same words. This was of great concern to me. I was there for every child, everyone. I expected an apology to be given to every child in that class along with my daughter. I expected this “slip” of the tongue, as the teacher put it, to be discussed at length with the children, telling them why we don’t generalize and label others, why we don’t use demeaning words, in other words, why we don’t breed hate. A teacher teaching by example.

You must realize, I am on constant watch for the guises of hate. I suffer a loss everyday because of hate. I sage smudge my house if I feel it has been intruded upon with hate energy. I leave the bad, sensationalized, tragic, unnecessary news presented by the media for others to view. I screen movies in my own home, so that I can decide to flip the violence and hate OFF. I guard and protect my heart and spirit because I know firsthand that hate can stealthily creep into your thoughts, and we are surrounded by it, inundated with it in every arena of our lives, from movies, to primetime television, to war games on Facebook, to shoot-em-up simulated video games, and even in the powerful melodies of our music. The brain is a malleable tissue and easily influenced.

Be careful my friends, be cautious about that which you let enter your mind through the media, what thoughts you allow yourself to think-be positive always, what seemingly benign phrases you toss out, who you associate with, what entertainment you engage in...choose wisely, or you too may find yourself, like this teacher, culpable.

By the way, my daughter happens to shine brilliance! The “dumb blonde” in the title....well, you can guess who that is.

--Victoria Hart

DEAR SISTER,

I MISS YOU SISTER LIKE A THUMB CUT FROM MY HAND.

I HAVEN'T SLEPT IN YEARS,
YOU KEEP CALLING ME IN MY DREAMS.

HOW DO I MAKE MY WAY BACK TO YOU?

ALL NIGHT I SEARCH FOR YOU ONLY TO AWAKEN EXHAUSTED AND ALONE.

YOUR NEED FOR ME CROSSES TIME AND SPACE.
MY NEED FOR YOU, CROSSES ME.

MEMORIES OF YOU CHURN, AGITATE, TOSS AND TURN ME.

I'M SORRY FOR YOU,
I'M SORRY FOR ME WITHOUT YOU.

SINCE YOUR DEATH,
IT HAS TAKEN YEARS FOR ME TO MOVE FORWARD, AT TIMES I FALL BACK STILL.

LIKE A HAND WITHOUT A THUMB, I CEASE TO FUNCTION.

I'M WAITING FOR YOU, BEHIND MY THOUGHTS, IN MY DREAMS.

DO I REALLY EXPECT YOUR RETURN?
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My sister, June, was murdered by her boyfriend on October 28, 1999. What is it about a 10 year anniversary that makes one stand still? I am haunted, hunted, and caged by grief. I struggle to remember her life, but sadly, I'm tormented by her violent death. Peace come to me, please. I love you JuneBug.

--Victoria Hart

Honoring the Divine In You

Just this morning I was thinking I "needed" to practice yoga today. And then I fell into the to-do-list crevasse. How can I spend time relaxing in a gentle pose, while so much needs to be done after so many days of illness?
It is true, taking time out of my day to exercise, often feels like I am displaying a selfish attitude towards my loved ones and friends. But...

Honoring oneself is the root to honoring others. Strengthing this basic foundation by exercising, reading, or doing whatever it is that nourishes your spirit, will provide you with a traquil disposition. When the family arrives home and you all gather together; you prepare dinner, finish the laundry, and help the children with their homework. You will find you have more to give because you have first honored yourself. You will feel peace instead of resentment.

Let me say, that I know by experience, when I don't put myself on the list, at the top of the "to-do" list, I feel resentful and sometimes display outburst of anger, as if it were my family's fault. I must be responsible enough, care enough about them, to take care of myself first, so I will be present with a calm acceptance for whatever they bring home to me.

Many feel exercise, in any form, is a means of nourishing the divine within. Yoga works best for me in this sense. When I practice yoga, my spirit is replenished and cleansed. Of course, yoga is not the only route to a renewed you. A friend of mine, walks every evening with a group of women and they discuss their belief in God and ways to incorporate more of the scripture in their daily lives. I think that is quite a fantastic "movement." I picture the loving fellowship and immense endorphins they must have afterward. What a gift to share with your family, a new, refreshed you.

Love works the same way, we need to find the love for ourselves before we can fully love another. Whatever your starting place is, you can easily more toward more self-love by practicing one simple thing a day to honor yourself; something as easy as a walk around the block with open eyes and a quiet mind unites you with the sweet beauty of the universe.
Whatever you choose to do to honor the divine within you, I promise you will be blessed with serenity. Best of all, you will have more love, respect, and tolerance for yourself. Once you recognize the benefits of gifting yourself with moments of honor, build on it, keep going, keep growing more healthy and more lovable. Create a harmonious life.
(Photo: courtesy of BoulderBodyworks; http://www.boulderbodyworks.com/