Consent Education in Schools and More


If This Bill Passes, Federal Law Will Mandate Consent Education in Public Schools

by on • 1:56 PM

Right now, federal law does not require health or sex education to include sexual assault prevention – but that could change with a new bill introduced by Senators Claire McCaskill (D-MO) and Tim Kaine (D-VA).

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via Gary Knight

The Teach Safe Relationships Act of 2015, which was introduced earlier this month, would require all public secondary schools in the country to include teaching “safe relationship behavior” in order to help prevent domestic violence and sexual assault. Women between 16 and 24 experience the highest rate of intimate partner violence, making the bill particularly important in ending an epidemic of sexual violence.

McCaskill, who has also pushed legislation to combat military sexual assault, noted that sexual assault prevention starts young. “One thing we’ve learned in our work to curb sexual violence on campuses and in the military is that many young people learn about sex and relationships before they turn 18,” she said in a recent statement. “And one of the most effective ways to prevent sexual violence among adults is to educate our kids at a younger age.”

She was echoed by Kaine. “Education can be a key tool to increase public safety by raising awareness and helping to prevent sexual assault and domestic violence, but many students are leaving high school without learning about these crimes that disproportionately impact young people,” he said in a press release. “With the alarming statistics on the prevalence of sexual assault on college campuses and in communities across the country, secondary schools should play a role in promoting safe relationship behavior and teaching students about sexual assault and dating violence.”

The Act came after Sen. Kaine met with members of One Less, a University of Virginia group that advocates for rape and sexual assault survivors. UVA’s policies surrounding campus sexual assault have been in the spotlight since Rolling Stone released an article about the college’s mishandling of a gang rape.

 

Media Resources: The Huffington Post 2/3/2015; Sen. Claire McCaskill Press Release 2/3/2015; Tim Kaine

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Study: College athletes are more likely to gang rape

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You Have to Be Carefully Taught


My youngest grandson is 5 years old, and in pre-school.  He has lived his entire life in conservative areas, first in Arkansas, now in Oklahoma.  I talked to his mother today, and she told me that when he came home from school today, the following conversation took place:

“Mom, Mr. Obama is our President, did you know that?”

“Yes, honey, I did know that.  Did you know that he’s our First President of Color?”

“No, mommy!  He’s not the First President!  And he’s not the President for Color, he’s the President of All of Us!”

A 5-year-old can get that, but Congress, or at least many Republicans, apparently can’t.

Obama is the first President of Color, but to the youngest generation, that doesn’t matter.  What matters is:  He’s President of America.  Period.

Color is irrelevant, at my grandson’s age, because at 5, he has not been taught to hate people who look differently than he does, or who worship differently than he does, or who worship not at all.  At 5, we’re all just People.  Nothing more, nothing less.  Just People.

Think of what a wonderful world it could be, if he were never taught that all people whose skin has a different hue are dangerous or stupid or lazy or out to get him in some undefined way.  Think of what a wonderful world it could be, if he were never taught that his God hates the way other people worship the same God and that they will be punished for believing differently.  Think of what a wonderful world it could be, if he were never taught that all people in foreign lands, or whose parents or grandparents come from foreign lands, want to destroy our country, or hurt his family.

What would the world be like if we never taught our children to hate, or to fear or to be intolerant and prejudiced?  Can you imagine such a world?

It’s hard, looking at the news and beheadings and bombings and riots and protests, to imagine a world without hatred being taught to children.

But I, for one, think it’s worth trying.

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Let us teach all children that they are beautiful and intelligent. Let us teach them that they have good ideas. Let’s not discourage them from having friends who are different. Let us live in such a way that they will have good role models. Let us stop Nazi imitators and the KKK. Let us punish them for every crime they commit.

 

Let us teach that every color in the woods, the beach, in our gardens, or in our skin, is there because of the way light rays bend. Let’s show them that there is beautiful color everywhere in the world. No color is more important than another and no color is to ever be hated.

 

If you really stop and think about it, what color is Divinity? Caucasian, black, brown, asian, or a blending of colors like my paint palette? What if Your God and or mine has no color? What if God, Divinity is pure energy and is colorless?

 

What a person is and how they live their lives is what is really important. Good people are not Caucasian, partly good are not Asian and Black people are not bad people.

 

Black lives matter, Hispanic lives matter, Jewish lives matter, Indian lives matter, Indigenous lives matter, Caucasian lives matter, Middle Eastern lives matter.

    ALL LIVES MATTER 

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Namaste, Barbara

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artist pallette

My artist pallette. This is how life looks to me.MultipleRacesChildren

No immediate cause


WITH NO IMMEDIATE CAUSE

–Ntozake Shange

every 3 minutes a woman is beaten

every five minutes a

woman is raped/every ten minutes

a lil girl is molested

yet i rode the subway today

i sat next to an old man who

may have beaten his old wife

3 minutes ago or 3 days/30 years ago

he might have sodomized his

daughter but i sat there

cuz the young men on the train

might beat some young women

lat4r in the day or tomorrow

i might not shut my door fast

enuf/push hard enuf

every 3 minutes it happens

some woman’s innocense

rushes to her cheeks/pours from her mouth

like the betsy wetsy dolls have been torn

apart/their mouths

menses red & split/every

three minutes a shoulder

is jammed through plaster and the oven door/

chairs push thru the rib cage/hot water or

boiling sperm decorate her body

i rode the subway

today

& bought a paper from a

man who might

have held his old lady onto

a hot pressing iron/i don’t know

maybe he catches lil girls in the

park and rips open their behinds

with steel rods/i can’t decide

what he might have done i only

know every 3 minutes

every 5 minutes every 10 minutes/so

i bought the paper

looking for the announcement

the discovery/of the dismembered

woman’s body/the

victims have not all been

identified/today they are

naked and dead/refuse to

testify/one girl out of 10’s not

coherent/i took the coffee

& spit it up/i found an

announcement/not the woman’s

bloated body in the river/floating

not the child bleeding in the

59th street corridor/not the baby

broken on the floor/

“there is some concern

that alleged battered women

might start to murder their

husbands & lovers with no

immediate cause”

i spit up i vomit i am screaming

we all have immediate cause

every 3 minutes

every 5 minutes

every 10 minutes

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Bahrain’s immigrant workers in trouble


Dear Kitty. Some blog

This is a video by Yousif Hassan and his friends on migrant workers in Bahrain.

From the Washington Post in the USA:

Watch: A Bahraini tries living a day in the life of a migrant worker

By Adam Taylor

February 25 at 12:05 PM

More than half of the 1.4 million people living in Bahrain are thought to be migrant workers, journeying from South Asia and elsewhere to the Persian Gulf state because of economic factors. Many end up in low-paid, menial work once they are there, living a very different life compared with the Bahrainis around them.

The Washington Post should rather say: some of the Bahrainis.

Last week, a young Bahraini named Yousif Hassan decided to show the gulf between his life and that of migrant workers, by living a “day in the life” of a low-paid convenience store worker. With the help of some friends, he filmed his day.

View original post 397 more words

If Death Were a Woman


This poem grabbed me.  I wasn’t thinking about Death, but the beauty of the words — the possibility of it — captured my imagination today.

We all will face Death, one day — some of us sooner than others — but how we face it, how we accept it or fight it, can be as important as how we live on the way there.

Death is scary.  It isn’t something I want to do, any time soon — I have grandchildren to watch grow up, great-grandchildren to welcome many years from now — but when it comes, it would be nice to think it would be like this poem.  Nice to think that those I’ve loved and lost were welcomed to the Other Side in so gentle and beautiful a fashion.

Namaste,

Barbara

 

 

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If Death Were a Woman

–Ellen Kort

I’d want her to come for me smelling of cinnamon

wearing bright cotton      purple maybe       hot pink

 

a red bandana in her hair          She’d bring

good coffee         papaya juice       bouquet of sea grass

 

saltine crackers and a lottery ticket      We’d dip

our fingers into moist pouches of lady’s slippers

 

crouch down to see how cabbage feel when wind

bumps against them in the garden     We’d walk

 

through Martin’s woods      find the old house

its crumbling foundation strung with honeysuckle vines

 

and in the front yard     a surprise     jonquils

turning the air yellow     glistening and ripe

 

still blooming for a gardener long gone

We’d head for the beach wearing strings of shells

 

around our left ankles     laugh at their ticking

sounds     the measured beat that comes with dancing

 

on hard-packed sand     the applause of ocean and gulls

She’d play ocarina songs to a moon almost full

 

and I’d sing off-key     We’d glide and swoop

become confetti of leaf fall     all wings

 

floating on small whirlwinds     never once dreading

the heart-silenced drop     And when it was time

 

she would not bathe me     Instead we’d scrub the porch

pour leftover water on flowers     stand a long time

 

in sun and silence     then      holding hands

we’d post for pictures     in the last light

 

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