Tuesday, June 7, 2016

"20 Minutes of Action"

 Portrait of an All American Rapist

This week shined a light of how our judicial system is skewed when it comes to white, economically advantaged young men who commit rape. The case of Brock Turner, a Stanford swimmer, jarred us with the reality of how celebrity looks, a winning smile, and a Stanford education can earn you a get out of jail free card. He was convicted of raping a an intoxicated 23 year old woman. Two graduate students happened upon the sexual assault in progress and apprehended him when he attempted a cowardly escape. In a sentence which can only leave one speechless, he received six months in prison with only three months if he behaves himself. Judge Aaron Persky handed down the sentence saying, "a long sentence would have a severe impact on him." Wake up judge, jail has a severe impact on everyone sentenced.

According to Judge Aaron Persky, if I am unconscious or do something stupid and voluntarily lose control of my sensorium, white men of privilege are entitled to rape me. After all, boys will be boys-it happens at frat parties everywhere. The message here is I automatically consent to being brutalized for not being a good girl. I wonder if Judge Persky, a self-proclaimed defender of violated women, even knows the extent of trauma rape victims endure. Did the fact that Judge Persky also went Stanford bias his decision?

The slap on the wrist sentencing of a 20 year old blond, blue-eyed American swimmer from Stanford illustrates what women have known for centuries:  rape is in the eye of the beholder. There is always a plausible excuse to rape a woman. And, even if there isn’t, most women deserve it when the engage in slut-like behavior. A clear message has been sent that men should not be punished for predatory sexual behavior when the victim is making herself 'available'. His father said it well when he wrote to the judge proclaiming such his phenomenal athletic son should not be punished for “20 minutes of action”. He went on to say his son "has never been violent to anyone" including the night of the witnessed attack. Unbelievably, the senior Mr. Turner felt his son could pay his karmic debt for necrophiliac-like horsing around with his obtunded prey by warning fellow college students of the dangers of promiscuity and drinking. He was referring to his son's victim here. The apple, evidently, does not fall far from the tree. Now we know where his son got his respect for incapacitated women. 

The rapist, Brock Turner, has never expressed remorse for his actions. His defense was he was drunk and the sex was consensual. The witnesses at his trial testified his victim was unconscious and could not have given consent. As a child of wealth, Mr. Turner believes he is above the law as does his father. Neither have insight on the makings of a predator. He really is a good kid who made a minor mistake-getting caught. For God’s sake this is a 20 year old blond, blue-eyed all-star athlete from Stanford. This will teach Mr. Turner to be more careful the next time.

The trues heroes of this story are the victim and the grad students who intervened by catching Mr. Turner as he fled the scene. This victim showed tremendous courage coming forward when most when most women would have felt overwhelmed by the odds this rarified trophy cake eater would ever see justice. Until you’ve been there, it is impossible to describe the humiliation of having your degradation paraded in court and in the media.

The grad students who interceded by capturing the assailant also deserve tremendous praise for their valorous actions. They had the emotional wits to stop the attack, ensuring Mr. Turner would face the consequences for his predation. Unlike Mr. Turner and his father, these young men were taught to respect and value women. They deserve a medal for rescuing the victim, intercepting the perpetrator, and bravely testifying in court. The actions of these two grad students has given me hope that a generation of men who delight in violent video games depicting women as folly for their pent up aggression can rise above the prevailing misogynist attitudes being spoon fed to boys and men.

Mr. Turner's Aryan looks and steely denial will not serve him well in prison. My guess is his fellow minority inmates won't be impressed with his collegiate prowess nor his cries of being the real victim. They may, however, enjoy his warnings about the dangers of sexual promiscuity and intoxication. 

A movement is under way to recall Judge Aaron Persky. To sign a petition for his recall, go to:

Sunday, January 17, 2016

The Dregs of January in Minnesota


 

Growing up in Minnesota, one learns the cruelest month is January. However, Minnesotans operate under a high level of denial and find amusing ways to delude themselves as a way of surviving the subzero weather. 


Minnesotans do not let winter in January dampen their spirits. They
 cleverly have adapted to everyday life in the frozen tundra.


   Who needs warm weather in January, when the suns rays
 are so close to the earth at this time of year!


The hardiness of Minnesotans is well respected by
 our fellow Americans.


Don't worry, Minnesota, soon it will be February.


January adds to the allure of Minnesotans. Who knew
 this makes us international sex symbols.










Friday, January 15, 2016

Au Revoir Alan Rickman



The first time I saw Alan Rickman I fell in love with him. In 1992 he starred in the marvelous movie, "Truly, Madly, Deeply". He was simply spellbinding as a ghost lover of a woman named Nina, who is in the depths of despair after months of dealing with his character's sudden death. Her gut-wrenching grief brought him back from the netherworld. This movie came out as the same time as "Ghost" but unlike this sentimental shallow tripe, "Truly, Madly, Deeply" was riveting in its intensity pondering what would it be like to have a second chance with a lost love. Alan Rickman was sophisticated enough to let Juliet Stephenson as Nina steal the show; only a confident and sentient actor would be so generous. Mr. Rickman showed this kind of mettle in all his performances. 

Many remember his fierce performances as Hans Gruber in "Die Hard", Professor Snape in the Harry Potter series, Harry in "Love Actually", and as the Sheriff of Nottingham in "Robin Hood". His presence on screen hypnotized me. Even in a bad movie he was excellent. He had a way of drawing me in, mesmerizing me with his brilliance regardless of the role. 

That voice. Who will ever forget that mellifluous voice? Here's to Alan Rickman. Thank you for bringing to life such an astounding range of characters. There are not enough adjectives to describe your immense talent. Rest in Peace.




Sunday, December 20, 2015

JUROR #3


I was called Juror #3. Like most people, I had hoped some of the facts of my background would disqualify from jury duty but my fellow jury prospects had more baggage than an airplane. Along with twelve other jurors, I won this lottery and was selected foreperson because of my past trial experience. 

It was a circumstantial case involving a convicted felon who had been  arrested in a big narcotics raid for possession of crack cocaine, a loaded gun, and a box of ammunition. Initially I thought this to be a slam dunk case of not guilty due to overzealous narc squad wanting to bust a man who was most probably involved with distribution of drugs. All they got was a man with a loaded weapon and a gram of crack. Even though the defendant was previously caught doing illegal activities, I wanted to follow to follow the letter of the law and make the prosecutor convince me the evidence showed this beyond a reasonable doubt. 

For anyone who has not served on a jury, it is a daunting task. You are charged to sit in judgment of another person's life, deciding their fate. It is not like the legal shows one sees on TV. Conceptually, it is easy to think you can be fair but the gravity hits you when you are escorted to the jury room for deliberations. 

We had an good cross-section from our County of jurors who took their duty seriously. None of them walked in thinking or wanting this man to be guilty until everything had been dissected and carefully reviewed. I was elected foreperson due to my previous experience on a jury trial. All of my fellow jurors agreed with my proposed structure at how we can breakdown and discuss this case logically to more likely reach a unanimous verdict on all counts. It was of the utmost importance to me personally that each juror left there feeling their voice was heard and there opinion was crucial in reaching a consensus. This was this thoughtful jury who combed through every piece of evidence, reviewed the facts and discrepancies, and civilly discussed our conclusions as instructed by the judge according to law. Though I and another juror remained the most skeptical of the state's case was beyond a reasonable doubt case, when we had the testimony of a witness re-read back to us by the court reporter, my fellow juror and I discussed our shadow of a doubt suddenly was illuminated by refreshed testimony. The verdict was guilty.

This was my first guilty verdict trial. As I looked at the defendant and his family's dejected faces, I felt incredibly sad for all the suffering they had been through, especially for the elderly grandmother who raised him. Afterwards, I wondered about the story behind this story. At the very end, before we were dismissed, the judge advised us it would be best for us to lay this to rest and not explore this case further. I will never know the full story but believe twelve people did their best in determining a fair and impartial verdict. 

As I walked away, several jurors stopped to tell me what a good job I did as foreperson. This being their first trial, they thanked me for how thoughtful and adept I was at maneuvering them through the legal process to draw their own conclusions. They voiced being surprised that they felt more confidence in the judicial system after being part of it and were impressed that their participation was key. Knowing how seriously every one of the jurors took this responsibility, I share their confidence and believe the fundamental right to a fair trial by one's peers is the cornerstone of our democracy. It is a small price to pay to ensure justice for all.

Thursday, November 26, 2015

Happy Thanksgiving



9 WAYS TO CULTIVATE GRATITUDE

  1. 1
     
    Notice your day-to-day world from a point of gratitude and be amazed at all the goodness we take for granted. The video "A Good Day" from TEDxSF can get you in
    the right frame of mind.
  2.  
  3. 2
     
    Keep a gratitude journal. All it requires is noting one or more things you are grateful for on a daily basis. No fancy notebook, no computer program required.
  4.  
  5. 3
     
    If you identify something or someone with a negative trait (the cold conference room), switch it in your mind to a positive trait (the conference room with
    a great view).
  6. 4
     
    Gratitude requires humility, which the dictionary defines as "modest and respectful." Explore where it fits in your life. The article"Humility: A Quiet, Underappreciated Strength"is a good start.
  7.  
  8. 5
     
    Give at least one compliment daily. It can
    be to a person or it can
    be asking someone to share your appreciation
    of something else ("I love how quiet it is in the morning, don’t you?").
  9.  
  10. 6
     
    When you find yourself
    in a bad situation ask:
    What can I learn? When
    I look back on this, without emotion, what will I be grateful for?
  11. 7
     
    Vow to not complain, criticize, or gossip for 10 days. If you slip, rally your willpower and keep going. Notice the amount of energy you were spending on negative thoughts and actions.
  12.  
  13. 8
     
    Sound genuinely happy
    to hear from the people who call you on the phone. Whether the caller responds with surprise or delight, he’ll know you value speaking with him.
  14.  
  15. 9
     
    Become involved in a cause that is important
    to you. Donate money or time or talent. By joining in, you’ll gain greater appreciation for the organization, and it will appreciate you more, too.
-from Unstuck.com

Sunday, November 8, 2015

THE 40TH ANNIVERSARY OF THE WRECK OF THE EDMUND FITZGERALD


"SS Edmund Fitzgerald was an American Great Lakes freighter that sank in a Lake Superior storm on November 10, 1975, with the loss of the entire crew of 29. When launched on June 7, 1958, she was the largest ship on North America's Great Lakes, and she remains the largest to have sunk there.

Carrying a full cargo of ore pellets with Captain Ernest M. McSorley in command, she embarked on her ill-fated voyage fromSuperior, Wisconsin, near Duluth, on the afternoon of November 9, 1975. En route to a steel mill near Detroit, Fitz joined a second freighter, SS Arthur M. Anderson. By the next day, the two ships were caught in a severe storm on Lake Superior, with near hurricane-force winds and waves up to 35 feet (11 m) high. Shortly after 7:10 p.m., Fitzgerald suddenly sank in Canadian waters 530 feet (160 m) deep, about 17 miles (15 nautical miles; 27 kilometers) from Whitefish Bay near the twin cities of Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan, and Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario—a distance Fitzgerald could have covered in two hours at her top speed. Although Fitzgerald had reported being in difficulty earlier, no distress signals were sent before she sank; Captain McSorley's last message to Anderson said, "We are holding our own." Her crew of 29 perished, and no bodies were recovered." -Wikipedia


The Wreck Of The Edmund Fitzgerald Lyrics

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they called 'Gitche Gumee'
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of November turn gloomy
With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more
Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty.
That good ship and crew was a bone to be chewed
When the gales of November came early.

The ship was the pride of the American side
Coming back from some mill in Wisconsin
As the big freighters go, it was bigger than most
With a crew and good captain well seasoned
Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms
When they left fully loaded for Cleveland
And later that night when the ship's bell rang
Could it be the north wind they'd been feelin'?

The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound
And a wave broke over the railing
And every man knew, as the captain did too,
T'was the witch of November come stealin'.
The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
When the Gales of November came slashin'.
When afternoon came it was freezin' rain
In the face of a hurricane west wind.

When suppertime came, the old cook came on deck sayin'.
Fellas, it's too rough to feed ya.
At seven p.m. a main hatchway caved in, he said
Fellas, it's been good t'know ya
The captain wired in he had water comin' in
And the good ship and crew was in peril.
And later that night when his lights went outta sight
Came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.

Does any one know where the love of God goes
When the waves turn the minutes to hours?
The searches all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay
If they'd put fifteen more miles behind her.
They might have split up or they might have capsized;
May have broke deep and took water.
And all that remains is the faces and the names
Of the wives and the sons and the daughters.

Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings
In the rooms of her ice-water mansion.
Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreams;
The islands and bays are for sportsmen.
And farther below Lake Ontario
Takes in what Lake Erie can send her,
And the iron boats go as the mariners all know
With the Gales of November remembered.

In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed,
In the Maritime Sailors' Cathedral.
The church bell chimed till it rang twenty-nine times
For each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald.
The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call 'Gitche Gumee'.
Superior, they said, never gives up her dead
When the gales of November come early!
Songwriters: LIGHTFOOT, GORDON
The Wreck Of The Edmund Fitzgerald lyrics © Moose Music Ltd.

In memory of the lives lost on this day forty years ago on Lake Superior.