Sometimes it is just not enough to talk about things. We like to do that in our culture. We like to talk, theorize, conclude, write papers, do research, and sit in the comfort of our desk chairs and coffee shops debating things. We like to talk about how serious urban poverty it, how wretched sex trafficking is, how frustrating our economy has become, or whatever else we can think of. It is good to process and think through these issues to let them seep into our minds and brains and let them effect our souls. But then at some point, if we really care about the issue we have to get off our ass and do something. Not with every issue or problem ever in the world, but the ones we care about. I don't want to say that you have to go rush off to Africa to feed the orphans or even feel guilty for not doing so. But if all I ever did was talk about the stuff we care about - I have to ask myself, how much do I really care?
Here is a chance to do something simple - like sign your name. Which is all you have to do - sign your name to a petition combat sex trafficking in brothels posing as massage parlors in Fresno, CA. Yes Fresno - not India or East Asia or Africa or some foreign country with an unpronounceable name but a major city in California. I don't wan t
What have you got to lose by singing it anyway? Just something to keep thinking about while you drink that cup of coffee at your desk table.
I came across this video because a friend posted it on facebook. It makes me think of the power of internet in spreading news as well as the reality of bullying in today's schools.
It is late at night and I'm still processing this video. In short this is what I feel - I see the effects of it on my students who are beaten down and tired of being made fun of. And its not just in junior high. They have been made fun of since they started school. It breaks my heart to see students picked on because of the color of their skin, their appearance, their speech, their likes or dislikes, their sexual orientation, their grades, their athletic abilities (or lack of), or whatever it is. It hurts me to see other students be mean to each other, even in jest. Sometimes it is the jokes that hurt the worst. I had friends jokingly say mean things about my appearance in junior high and sometimes it was worse than them saying an outright mean comment. I never knew where the line between joke and hurtful was and was left to determine it on my own. There is more to say and do about this subject, but again, it is late and my brain has little room for processing.