I Am A Pre-Existing Condition

With all of the things going on in the United States these past few days, it can be tough to want to keep looking at the same daunting information. I know-really. Because a quick Google search for US news leads you to headlines about the healthcare bill, religious freedom bills, Penn State death, the GOP, the EPA, and a whole host more.

Searching Google, then, for the AHCA (aka: TrumpCare), you’d be compelled to scream. And I’ll be the first to admit, I reviewed all the information I could, watched the Rachel Maddow show to blow off some steam and then I ranted to my husband. A lot. Because, as I know a lot of you can empathize with, this felt like yet another attack on my identity. Not only that, it’s an attack on my education, my career, well, just about everything I suppose.

Here’s some important things to note:

-Go to your insurance manual/provider-look up all of the conditions they have the right to deny coverage for. Check off how many pertain to you (and your dependents). The greater the number, the more likely you’re going to be without insurance.

-Do you use Medicaid/Medicare? Cause that’s another tick in the “probably won’t have insurance/insurance I can afford” box.

-Do you use Planned Parenthood as a reproductive healthcare provider? Add some more ticks to those boxes.

Now, there is one small piece of hope. The Senate is much harder to get it to pass. And in order for it to be the ACA replacement-it HAS to pass the Senate. So that means we have time to call/fax/ResistBot all the Senators.

If you’re savvy with Twitter, you’ll have no doubt noticed the last couple of days have been filled with the hashtag: IAmAPreExistingCondition. That is in direct response to the House voting to approve this heinous bill. And that’s where the title of today’s post comes from.

Now I know-this post has been the Campbell’s Chicken Noodle of political posts (super condensed, no surprises) but the important things to take away are that activism is hard-but necessary and together, we will overcome.

Time Flies

Heavens! Where has the time gone?

I finished undergrad!

Mercury retrograde ended!

I’m running a book giveaway! (Check it out: here!)

I’ve opened my Etsy shop! (Check it out: here:))

I’m preparing for law school-going about my daily duties like a mad woman. I’ve applied to jobs-which will be something. I don’t know that I’ve had a chance to accept that I’ve successfully completed a huge milestone-but I’m confident that will come up soon.

Sexual Assault Awareness Month ended, Mental Health Month began.

I’m going to have a couple excellent posts coming up: one about healthcare, one about a new book press, one about…well, you’ll have to stay tuned!

Stay safe. Stay valid.

M.

NISVS Report Released

***Trigger warning: discussion of sexual assault/intimate violence report*** 

For those of you who have followed since I started this journey, you know well that my passion lies in stopping rape culture. So I’ve been long awaiting this National Intimate Partner and Sexual Violence Survey report. It covers the years of 2010-2012 and brings to light some information about sexual violence and partner violence. This information includes things like:

1 in 3 women and 1 in 6 men in the US experienced sexual violence. (RAINN has female incidents at 1 in 6 and male incidents at 1 in 33-so this is a BIG increase in reporting.) 

1 in 6 women and 1 in 19 men in the US experienced stalking.

23 million women and 1.7 million men in the US have been the victims of rape.

27% of women and 11% of men in the US experienced intimate partner violence.

41% of female victims say their assault happened before the age of 18.

24% of male victims say their assault happened before the age of 18.

The CDC offers a “highlights” section which contains the statistic I’ve listed above, but also contains the full report of 272 pages. I’m making my way through the report as we speak and on the whole find it to be, well, dark. Some questions I have as I go through this report:

-Mention of LGBT individuals who maybe don’t use a binary gender?

-Religious overtones and motivations?

-Cross cultural examination? 

-Mental Health concerns?

I read in the report that they conducted a telephone survey. This concerns me for a couple of reasons: first, even though the sampling could have been random (through a random number generation system) does this represent an actual sample of the total? Second: almost no one I know answers the phone for numbers they don’t recognize. The report said 41,174 interviews were taken, but in comparison to the 321.4 million people who live in the United States, that’s a small thing. In fact, that is 0.0128% of the population (meaning 1 in 8000 people were contacted). 

States that ranked pretty low (comparatively) were (going from east to west): West Virginia, North Carolina, Georgia, Florida, Alabama, Louisiana, Iowa, North Dakota, South Dakota and Utah. Highest reported numbers came from (east to west): Maine, New Hampshire, South Carolina, Kentucky, Minnesota, Montana, Idaho, Arizona, Nevada, Washington and Oregon. The lower statistical states had a prevalence of 29.5%-34.1% and the higher statistical states were 38.6%-47.5% prevalence.

I invite you to look into the report, as I will be spending what little time I have spare as a way to prepare for law school. Stay safe out there, folks.

You’re valid. You’re irreplaceable. 

The Department of Anthropology

Today’s post is just an appreciation post. For people who don’t see me often, this will not mean anything to you. But it does to me. I’m sad because at the end of the week, I have to leave my job. It’s a work study position and because I’m graduating, I’m no longer eligible to be there. And so, today is my dedication to that.

When I applied to work for my department, I was terrified. I needed a job, I thought I was going to have to go back to fast food and be miserable for the rest of my time in Columbus. I was terrified because I didn’t know my way around campus, I didn’t know anyone in that office and I had no idea if they’d like me. I remember a young woman talking to me in a cheerful, sing-song voice, being introduced to the stern looking keeper of things and information and being introduced to the fiscal officer who appeared strict and dauntingly professional. And as I said “hello” in what I can only assume was the most pathetically timid voice I could, I was employed. I would meet my coworkers-a young man with an inviting smile and a knack for forgetting things and a young lady who had the most infectious laughter and a great eye for scarves. She intimidated me because she got on so well with my new boss. A few weeks later, we gained a sassy newcomer with the coolest hair I’d ever seen.

How silly that all seems now.

Although I thought that I had only applied for a job, what I applied for was a position as a member of a reliable, close-knit family. And that’s why it breaks my heart to let it go.

My boss has the most impeccable taste in clothes. And not only that, she believes the best in everyone. She’s willing to start each day on a completely new page-no matter what. She laughs everything off, offers advice as sincere as any person can and she goes out of her way to help people. She has this thing for fountain pens and it’s hilariously superb. No matter how many times we worked on her desk, it was always filled with work-not because she was lazy, but because people know how great she is, so they give her more. I’ll miss the way she always gets coffee and baked regular Lays-because they never carry barbeque, and the way that no matter how crappy her day may be, she always has time for you.

The keeper of things? She’s the biggest nerd I’ll ever meet-and I mean that with the utmost respect and awe. We chat about books, politics, television, you name it. She completely understands what I’m talking about when I discuss farm life, she’s wicked busy and even though at first I thought she hated me, it turns out that she’s been on my side since day one. Her phone ringer is usually something from Star Wars (or Doctor Who) and if you can do it yourself-she can do it better (that’s not her saying it, I’m telling you so that you know). She’s got that Italian sass (which is hilarious) and she inspires me so much. We laugh about preparing for the zombie apocalypse while we run, she has a Harry Potter Christmas tree, she shows her dogs and is hands down the most interesting person I will ever know. She calls me “mini-RBG” and not once has she made me feel like I’m just young and naive. I’ll miss the way she keeps me on my toes, shares her popcorn with me and reminds me that I can absolutely be myself and help other people-no changes necessary.

If I ever thought that my enjoyment of the undead and the fact that my husband and I spent our honeymoon watching Game of Thrones could lead me to being on someone’s good side, I doubt it would have been the good side of our fiscal officer. He works so hard-and his attention to detail is on another level entirely. His granddaughter is adorable, and you can absolutely tell that he has a heart of gold-dedicated to just her. He always listens intently to my stories of field dressing the deer we hit with our car, no matter how many times I laugh about it and he makes me feel like I’m at least moderately funny. He’s absolutely always reliable, he always finds a way to make things work and even though we don’t interact as much as the others, I know that if I were ever in trouble, he’d be the first person I asked for help. I’ll miss the way he hates spoilers, so I have to edit out my reviews of the shows and the way he’s loyal to a fault.

I didn’t know the guy work study long, but he was a gentle soul. And I hope he does well in his life.

The scarf-clad work study and I greet each other each time we work as each other’s “favorite person”. We snap each other (on Snapchat) and she still absolutely has a great taste in accessories. The thing is though, when I met her, I thought she was super affluent-because of the scarves. She’s one of the only people I’ve met since I moved to the capital that knows about Liberty’s Kids and Sagwa and PBS Kids television-hallmarks of the parental types who didn’t pay for cable because it was a waste of money. Her laughter, as I mentioned is super infectious, but it’s also sincere. And I love that-because so often there are reasons to forget how to be sincere. She’ll still be there in the fall, and I hope that I can stop by some time-because she makes my day so festive. Plus, she totally sang Happy Birthday to me in Swedish-and we all need to have a friend like that.

The newest coworker is (hooray!) going to have a baby in the fall, and I think that that makes me some bizarre form of fairy god-aunt, but titles schmitles. Her hair still rocks, even though she totally cut it all off. When she first came in, I was told that she was shy and that was about it. I’m here to tell you, that is a lie (thank goodness our snaps aren’t public-we’re a riot). We usually don’t end up working together, but when we do-not much work gets done because we are chatting and getting into trouble (probably), but everyone knows that we’ll get everything done along the way. She shares my delight of all things Tim Burton and she convinces me that it’s a great idea to order lunch so she doesn’t feel alone. We also absolutely will be running for president/vice president some day and it’ll be the most epic thing humanity has ever seen.

There are, as with any family, the extended members-the janitor lady who is always exceptionally nice-so we save her donuts and brownies and cake. She’s so nice and she even called to let us know that she’d be away for a few days because she sprained her hand. There’s the tech guy who has more fun hanging out with us than he does other tech guys, so we pull up a chair and listen to him talk about deli meat, life in Upper Arlington and crazy news about life in general. And of course, a host of faculty that will forever hold my favor.

I know that I was only there a short time, and that I have no reason to be so attached-but I am. They’ve been the support, the driving factor behind not flaming out of the big city. Any time I have a problem-with life, school or in general-I know that they can help. And I think that’s what family is. I can only hope that I may be so luck as to find a similar set up in law school, but I can’t hope for anything better, because my Anthropology family is the best there will ever be.

So I won’t say goodbye, because families don’t do that. I’ll just say that the next time I see them, I’ll be a lawyer/social worker and I’ll be ready to take on the world-just like each of them prepared me to do. I’ll miss them, I’ll think about them often, and I’ll carry this honor of having shared my time with them with me.

unconditionally and irrevocably in love…

with COFFEE.

tl;dr: I rant about my week in coffee and then tell you all the cool things I’m about to do.

This post will have no bearing on your day, on your wellbeing or really even on anything at all. Today, I’m giving myself the right to just write. And I want to tell you the story about this past week, as it pertains to my very favorite beverage.

So I stopped drinking soda (pop-whatever) at the beginning of the semester. I told my brother that we were going to compete for who could be the most healthy/fit by Christmas. So off the list it went. Since then, my only substantial form of caffeine has been coffee. And even before now, I’ve been a devoted coffee drinker. Since like 8th grade. It’s a huge part of my life, and I totally inherited it from my parents (who consume 2-3 POTS of coffee per DAY between them). And anyway, I drink tea, water and coffee. I still make my own in a little percolator and it’s great-saves me money, tastes fine, I customize it, everything’s wonderful.

So I went to the store a couple weeks ago and bought everything I thought I’d need for the month. I meticulously plan and so far, I’ve been spot on-except for one kinda important thing: creamer. I hadn’t realized I’d be so stressed theses last few weeks with law school and current school and all the things, so I’ve been pounding down the coffee like it’s an emergency-because for me, it was.

So long story short, I ran out of creamer. On Sunday. My busy schedule prevents me from just popping into the store in the mornings, and I’m exhausted at night (but could reasonably do so). I chose not to go Sunday. I chose, instead, to do a LOT of homework and get ahead. Monday, I lucked out and it was office coffee day. Excellent. Tuesday, I made a mocha-ish coffee out of black coffee and hot chocolate mix (no milk) and it was bitter and I didn’t like it, so I only drank half. Wednesday, I used part of my last giftcard to get Starbucks (becuase HOORAY). Thursday, I drank orange juice. FREAKING ORANGE JUICE. And I was exhausted the whole day. I got fairly nothing accomplished. It was awful. Friday, I asked my husband to grab me a coffee from the library before he went about his day. Yesterday, I tried my hardest to drink my coffee straight up, but I wasn’t built for that, so I just chugged water all day.

Today. Today I realized that I had a really problematic love-hate relationship with my coffee/creamer balance and went to the store specifically for just creamer. Now, thankfully, I live only a block or so from the store so it wasn’t that bad, but I battled Sunday-post-church traffic specifically for a bottle of creamer.

Anyway, I really wanted the Hershey’s Chocolate Caramel one, and it only comes in a small bottle, so I’ll be out again before the week is up. Which is a shame, but this is my very last week of undergrad, so I think it’ll be alright.

That’s right. I have exactly 7 days before I’m 100% done. I have 2 more finals (I did the rest last week) and then I’m done-one on Wednesday and one on Sunday (I know-a Sunday final????? But it means that when April is done, so am I).

And I know I did the alphabet review of my time in undergrad, but I think on my last day (just 7 days from today) I’m going to share with you all the letter I wrote to myself for when this day happened. I haven’t quite decided yet, but I think that if I make it public, then I’ll be able to come back to it-regardless of where I am.

Anyway, happy Sunday! Let the countdown begin.

Oh! Also!

I’ve got some epic-cool things happening VERY soon.

  1. I’m going to be hosting a raffle for Nico & Tucker: Full of fun prizes and swag
  2. I’m going to start writing for Channillo-finally get those stories pub’d
  3. I’m going to open an etsy store-where I can sell essential oil stuff and things
  4. If you’re interested in reading an ARC in exchange for writing a review (it can be short!) PLEASE let me know-I have a couple, in a few different genres. You’d really be helping me out. I market books for authors (so these are THEIR ARCs, not mine) and that’s how I pay for college and coffee.

Single Digits

So if you follow me on instagram, I’ve been doing a daily photo with #HowIMetMyGraduation. I try to take pictures of things that sum up my day, mean something to me, or otherwise spark my interest. And Because I’m now officially just 9 days away from finishing my degree, I wanted to do something (probably hard) fun. I’m going to describe my undergrad degree using all 26 letters of the English alphabet. So uhm, here goes nothing.

A. Anthropology-my major. I focus on Cultural Anthropology, because I like to people watch.

B. Biology-This is what I spent two years of my degree majoring in. Because I was afraid of change.

C. Clergy-I am not only a wedding planner, I can officiate marriages too.

D. Diversity-I became Minister of Justice, Human Rights and Diversity for the micronation of Flandrensis

E. Education-which included the Calculus sequence, Chemistry, Psychology, Social Work and Political Science.

F. Fat-I gained some, but learned that my worth wasn’t a number.

G. GISHWHES-I learned how to cross the line between comfort and adventure.

H. Highway driving and conquering the fear.

I. Impair-we went through 4 (5?) cars in undergrad.

J. Journal-I started bullet journalling as a way to manage my symptoms.

K. Knick Knacks-I had to downsize 5 times since starting undergrad-for moving purposes.

L. Liberal-as in, I got liberally involved in politics.

M. Marriage-I got married in a classroom on campus just about 3 years ago.

N. Novels-I’ve started MANY, finished few.

O. Ohio State-this is where I’ve gotten my degree from.

P. Phlebotomy-I got my national certification by going to 2 colleges at once for a while.

Q. Queer-because I learned that it’s okay not to fit a gender binary-or even a standard array of sexuality.

R. Religion-I changed religions in college: from southern baptist/nondenominational Christian to earth worshipping pagan/hoodoo.

S. Subway-my first job. Followed by Rural King, Giant Eagle, and OSU.

T. Tattoo-I knew I wanted one, and for graduation, I finally got it.

U. Unhappy-I spent a long time being unhappy, because I lived in the shadow of the expectations of others before finding myself.

V. Victim-or rather, how to become a survivor of sexual assault.

W. Washburn-this is where I’ll be going to get my JDMSW (Law Degree and Masters in Social Work) in a little over 100 days.

X. Xenial-by definition, accepting-especially of strangers and foreigners.

Y. Youth-I’ve been in college the entirety of my early-mid twenties, and will be there until I’m nearly 30.

Z. Zombies? Zodiac? Zenith-meaning the most important moment, which for me is coming quickly.

 

Well, that wasn’t so bad:)

We’ll speak soon.

M.

As a White Woman, I’m tired.

I know-I’ve set myself up. But hear me out.

I’m tired of watching my friends with higher melanin counts be discriminated against. I’m tired of hearing stories of Muslim women getting their hijabs pulled. I’m tired of seeing violence against minorities. I’m tired of police instigated violence against those minorities. And I hear you, getting up in arms-I’m tired of police getting a bad rap for the crimes of the few bad apples too.

But that’s the thing, isn’t it? I’m tired of a few bad people ruining life for everyone else. I’m tired of ableist, sexist, racist, classist culture that tells people I love that their love isn’t good enough to count as the real thing. I’m tired of the people who decided that unless a person fits a certain mold, they aren’t worth anything.

I’m tired of people coming into fast food establishments on Sundays and looking down at the people working for being there on “God’s day”. Because if you didn’t come in, we wouldn’t have to be there either. And while we’re on the subject, I’m tired of being looked down on because it’s not a cross around my neck, it’s the symbol of my belief system.

I’m tired of people whitewashing. I’m tired of watching the political ideologies systematically remove the concerns of myself and the people who need to be heard so that those with the most money can continue to sweep us under the rug. I’m tired of our news outlets labeling every murderer and deviant as “mentally ill”-unless of course we’re talking about rape and the perp is a collegiate, white athlete.

I’m tired of listening to people apologize for their broken English because they’ve been trying, but it’s hard. I know it is. You’re trying-no need to apologize. And while we’re on the subject, I’m tired of seeing the fear in people’s eyes when they’re out and about. I know I’m not imposing that fear on them, but I belong to this culture and can’t help but feel it’s my fault in some way.

I’m tired of being caged in a rape schedule. I’m tired of living in a country where more than half of the people didn’t want DJT to be president, but because of a 200-years-outdated system, and laws which require fealty over logic, here we are. I’m tired of speaking with my international friends and hearing them talk about “Americans” with hesitation and an almost disgust-and completely understanding why. I’m tired of feeling like I belong to a country that hates diversity-because that’s the most awful thing a country could do. Apart from create refugees and then not take care of them.

I’m tired of being poor. And now, I know that comes with degrees-and I’ve heard the “it could be worse” speech-and that’s true. But I know what it’s like to go through a food pantry line and receive moldy, outdated food and have to make it work because that’s all you got. I know what it’s like to live on pizza rolls and peanut butter and jelly (all off brand of course) because that’s filling, but not really nutritious. I’m tired of being poor enough that it hurts, but not poor enough to qualify for help.

I’m tired of seeing people on the news who served the country and are now homeless. I’m tired of seeing families on the street because life was hard on them in one way or another. I’m tired of abusive spouses or partners taking their anger out of others. I’m tired of the justice system that is “innocent until proven guilty” unless you’re talking about rape or domestic violence, because then it’s guilty until, well, always guilty in some way.

I’m tired of people being removed from their homes because they weren’t born here. I’m tired of seeing families broken apart by immigration officials, because their kids were born here but they came in hopes of a better life and now they’re getting that life ripped away from them. I’m tired of hearing the word “illegal aliens”-because it’s impossible to be an illegal human being. All humans are equal-because we’re all humans. And it’s beyond time for our social structures to catch up.

I’m tired of people getting denied healthcare because their bodies came a little frayed at the edges when they entered this life. I’m tired of people rising from the ashes who forget what it’s like to be at the mercy of the system.

I’m tired of abuse of our people. I’m tired of waiting for the corrupt government to tell me that instead of waging war on women’s rights to choice, they’re waging war on poverty, on neglecting human rights. That they’re going to provide healthcare to the people in Flint-because they’re owning up to what happened. I’m tired of wondering if those poor kids understand that the government fought for them to gestate nine months, but because they’ve been born, no one cares if they survive. I’m tired of staying up all night wondering if the heroin epidemic that took people I went to school with could just end if our education system didn’t cause so many mental health problems.

I’m tired of watching the injustices done against the First Nations. Since the first white people came to America, all we’ve done is pillage and murder and worse. And for what? Manifest Destiny? Since when does the white people’s god desire human blood to be spilled in order to gain redemption? And why are we still taking? Why is there so much greed for something that we’ve already taken by force? I’m tired of watching the government I have to pay taxes to use my money to wage war on the health and well being and sacred lands of the people who were here long before the ones who look like me.

I’m tired of being lumped in with the people of past generations who believe that you can pull yourself up by your bootstraps-because so many of us don’t even have boots. I’m tired of people looking at my generation, the most diverse one yet and lumping us all together as lazy, ungrateful, entitled. Because maybe all we’re entitled to are the liberties denied us by those who want to use our own identities against us.

I’m tired of being made to feel ashamed because my sexuality doesn’t exist. I’m tired of being ashamed because my mental abilities aren’t neurotypical. I’m tired of being made to feel less than because my weight is “more than”. I’m tired that it’s 20-effing-17 and we still don’t have equality-even though it’s been fought for for much longer than I’ve been alive.

I’m tired that there are people who think human rights are negotiable. I’m tired that people are abducted from my neighborhood and sold into modern day slavery, with the promise of money to fix their poverty. I’m tired of explaining over and over again that feminism is equality-and it had better be intersectional or it’s not even feminism, it’s just a lie. I’m tired of fearing for my friends who are transgender, because the patriarchy is so ready to have them removed.

I’m tired.

I grew up with stories of having dreams, of independence, of resistance. My fourth grade teacher threw out the lesson plans and we spent all year learning about African American individuals who would largely go unnamed in history. My seventh grade teacher spent the year teaching us about the Holocaust and how when books were burned, it was work on progressive sexuality first. I grew up with a fondness for people like Thurgood Marshall, Sojourner Truth, Phillis Wheatley, Noor Inayat Khan, Cleopatra, W. E. B. DuBois, Amra binte Abdurrahman and Sayyida Nafisah. I was taught the stories of First Nations people-the story of the Great Turtle, Coyote and Iktomi, and the to-be-feared power of a woman during her cycle.

So yes. My skin is a pale tan. But my heart breaks for the suffering of people who bleed the same color as I do. And it is for these reasons that I have accepted my admissions offer to the 2017 Fall cycle of law school where I will focus on a combination of criminal law/trial advocacy and tribal law. I cannot speak for anyone other than myself, but I can stop this cycle of being the white woman tired and start being the white woman trying.