For the Lens-Artist Photo Challenge: #13 Look Up.
Taken last evening as I arrived at chorus.
For the Lens-Artist Photo Challenge: #13 Look Up.
Taken last evening as I arrived at chorus.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: contrast.
I took this Friday, walking around north Seattle, waiting for my autoclave to finish testing. In the early morning these small flowers were by the road and scattered through a yard. For survivors everywhere: the earthquake and tsunami in Indonesia and for men, women and children who have been hurt and abused and go on. For the capacity to love, to grieve and to heal.
Distant zoom from the ferry.
For Mondane Monday #178, a light and dark theme. I like the combination of the silhouette with the reflection. I took this on the Seattle Bainbridge ferry Friday. I saw th reflection and then had to move around to catch the effect.
What combination of light and dark appeals to you?
Last weeks Mundane Monday was creature built.
I want to reblog this and ask: Mr. Kavanaugh, you drank alcohol as a teen. How do you feel about your daughters drinking alcohol as teens? Is this acceptable? Is this expected? Will you turn a blind eye? Or do you have a double standard? Can teen males drink but teen females are “asking for it” and are “bad girls” if they behave the same way?
This matters. I don’t want a Supreme Court Justice who thinks it is fine for either teen males or teen females to drink and use drugs. So, sir, speak up: what message are you sending to all teens in the United States?
https://therecoveringlegalist.com/2018/09/28/the-elephant-in-the-kavanaugh-hearing-room/
Last weekend my Aunt Pat and my Uncle Jim were visiting all the way from Virginia. It was lovely. On Sunday morning we hiked the beach, from Chetzemoka Park out to the lighthouse and back. It went from early am fog to sun during the hike.


I want us to have a culture where teens don’t drink to black out or to where they tell themselves that it’s ok to harm another person, where women are not punished for speaking up, where neither boys nor girls nor men nor women tolerate rape or domestic violence or discrimination or hatred.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: fall.
Trigger warning: speaking up 2, to follow speaking up.
So: why do the WOMEN have to speak up?
Why don’t MEN speak up? Ok, gentlemen: every man who participated in a “train” or a gang rape or who had sex with a woman who they now are not sure consented or who has made more money than a woman in the office and knows it or who has sexually abused a child: how about YOU speak up. FALL ON YOUR KNEES AND SPEAK UP.
Confess. Pay reparation. We know you are out there. Are you waiting for ALL of the women to speak up? How about you step forward, bust yourself, bust the other men? When are you going to be MEN? When are you going to take responsibility?
Why do WOMEN have to speak up? Let’s see the MEN speak.
Our tears have been falling for years. It’s time for men to speak, to bust each other, to break the silence, to confess: speak up.
For yesterday’s Ragtag Daily Prompt: justice.
I keep hearing “Why didn’t she speak up sooner?”
I spoke up. I was 7. The abuser was a neighbor. Nothing was done. I thought it was my fault, that I was not a virgin, and that at age 7 I was pregnant. I did not understand puberty. I spoke up to my mother, who dismissed it.
So I did the only thing I could: I tried to protect myself and my four year old sister. I told her never ever to go near that neighbor. And I never went near him again.
I was taken for a well child check a month or two later. I didn’t say anything but I thought that surely the doctor would have noticed if I was pregnant, so I must not be.
I grieved on the school bus, thinking that I was the only girl who was not a virgin. I was wrong about the not a virgin, but I also was probably wrong about being the only girl.
I didn’t even realize that hello, I was seven, it was not my fault, I didn’t even understand what was happening. I didn’t understand until I was in college and heard a radio program about how women who are raped feel guilty. Here is a poem about that realization: The bacon burning.
So do you think I spoke up after that? Why would I? No one helped me and I was silenced. I learned this lesson: no one will help and I am on my own. I did speak up in medical school: Make a difference.
Where is justice? And do you really want us ALL to speak up now? About ALL of it?
When I was in my early teens, a friend of my parents french kissed me. He said, “I wanted to be your first french kiss.” Hello, I avoided him after that and did I want a french kiss from an old friend of my parents? He had a PhD but no boundaries, no emotional intelligence and poor ethics.
Shall I go on? In college I worked in two labs: both fruit fly labs. In one the graduate student was professional, courteous and quickly gave me a raise. In the other, I never saw the professor again and I was ignored. I went to resign from the second. The PhD professor said, “What do you plan to do after college?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Do you plan to get married and become some man’s cow?”
Oh, really? Do you Mr. PhD professor refer to all married women as men’s cows? Would you have the same conversation with a male student? I quit. I don’t like you or your lab and that sort of comment reinforces my dislike.
In medical school we had two female physicians on the faculty. One was married but no children. Residents joked about her, that she had the balls in the family, because they were both physicians. The other was not married, an OB-gyn. We asked her to speak to our Women in Medicine group about children and career.
“If you want to be taken seriously as a physician, you should not have children.” she said.
I asked, “What if we have a house husband?”
“No man’s ego could stand up to that,” she replied.
I have children and a career.
I had worked in a clinic for a year and another provider talked to me. “Do you know that they are paying the other physician (male) twice what they are paying you?”
Oh, really? I set up a meeting with the administration.
“Oh, the male physician is the clinic director, that’s why we pay him more.”
This was a lie. I had been in the clinic for a year and there had never been one word that he was clinic director. The next year they standardized paying us by RVUs: his salary went down and mine went up. And so justice was done, right? No, the male physicians are given jobs such as head of hospice or medical director and extra money. Do they work harder? The jobs are not offered to the women physicians.
A male physician at the hospital was made chief of staff. He asks me in the hall, “Do women physicians just quit because they want to stay at home with children?”
“Do you want a serious answer?” I said. He looked surprised. We went to an office and I discussed that almost all the hospital staff were women at that time and that they have a different relationship with female physicians than male physicians. Most of the administrators were male, white males.
So really, do you want all the women in the US to speak up? Maybe we all should. The above is not anywhere near an exhaustive list, it is a start. This is just from thinking about it for two days. I can fill pages…..
Home to the Longette & Longette Lite
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in front of the garden gate - JezzieG
Discover and re-discover Mexicoβs cuisine, culture and history through the recipes, backyard stories and other interesting findings of an expatriate in Canada
Or not, depending on my mood
All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain!
An onion has many layers. So have I!
Exploring the great outdoors one step at a time
Some of the creative paths that escaped from my brain!
Books, reading and more ... with an Australian focus ... written on Ngunnawal Country
Engaging in some lyrical athletics whilst painting pictures with words and pounding the pavement. I run; blog; write poetry; chase after my kids & drink coffee.
Coast-to-coast US bike tour
Generative AI
Climbing, Outdoors, Life!
imperfect pictures
Refugees welcome - FlΓΌchtlinge willkommen I am teaching German to refugees. Ich unterrichte geflΓΌchtete Menschen in der deutschen Sprache. I am writing this blog in English and German because my friends speak English and German. Ich schreibe auf Deutsch und Englisch, weil meine Freunde Deutsch und Englisch sprechen.
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Books by author Diana Coombes
NEW FLOWERY JOURNEYS
in search of a better us
Less Noise. More Meaning
Art from the Earth
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Taking the camera for a walk!!!
From the Existential to the Mundane - From Poetry to Prose
1 Man and His Bloody Dog
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