Your Depression is Contagious

Your depression is contagious

It's catching

It's outrageous

It leaves me in my cages and with nothing else to do

It's not so much the drinking

Or the yelling

Or the screaming

It's the fog inside the quiet that you never see me through

Through ears of guilt you hear me

But not the message clearly

I love you

You matter

But I should matter too

This disease that consumes you

Traps me in the room too

Yet if I mention

If I say so

You retreat into your gloom

You have your habit and your treatment

You have support

And your demons

But my life is nonexistent ‘cause the focus is on you

So I am left to hand hold

Left to listen

And to console

While I remain locked tightly in my cages with no view

Might Just Be Me

I recently joined a Facebook group suggested by several friends. It's a group of 'like-minded' people to my progressive tendencies. I joined, and while there were positive posts, I was disheartened by how many mean-spirited comments there were. Is it "progressive" to throw proverbial stones, call names, actively attempt to harm and be hateful? Was this a place I was supposed to find comfort?

Perhaps it is just me, but the message I received long ago was that hate is hate and love is love. Perhaps I got that wrong. I was very young when I learned that.

In fact, I think it might just be me - but I don't want to be surrounded by a curated feed just preaching to my choir. I want to hear what people are really saying. I want to listen. I want to understand. I think that's how we heal. There could be - there should be - hard conversations, but we should be brave enough to have them civilly.

And perhaps civility is justifiably dead in the face of extreme racism (indeed, any racism) but, once again, folks are acting like this stuff is just now taking place. It's not new. I've been here the whole time watching it - speaking out and fighting against it. It finally got televised one too many times and it heartens me that this may be the moment when it gets the attention it deserves. Still, I think our neighbor is not our enemy. Rather just some one that hasn't heard or been heard.

I want this to be the moment when we fix this damn thing - or at least when it finally starts getting fixed for real. I don't think that will happen screaming into a void of like-minded people, nodding our heads and donning our blinders. Indeed, I think that's how this whole problem started in the first place. I think we need to reach across the table, be accountable, get educated, speak out, change policy, vote, vote and vote, protest, demand action, come together, teach, learn, act, listen, listen and listen and...love thy neighbor.

But again, I think it might just be me.

The Walkout

On Thursday, May 26th at 9:00am dozens of students at SCVi got up and silently walked out of their classrooms. We stood in the quad with signs that demanded our voices be heard. Demanded that we should not go to school in fear of never coming back home. Demanding that we should never have to text our family goodbye from under a desk. Demanding that this problem that never should have been a problem must be stopped. Students demand action, not thoughts and prayers.

On average, everyday 120 people die and 200 people are injured from gun violence. This is not a problem that we can sit idly by and let more and more people lose their lives from. There needs to be more people who care about this who are willing to get up and make a difference.

One organization that is desperately trying to make some sort of difference is Everytown For Gun Safety. Originally Everytown was called Mayors Against Gun Violence and was started by, as the name suggests, mayors. In 2006 13 mayors around the states combined into an organization to try and push laws for better gun safety. Then in 2012 Shannon Watts, a stay at home mom, created a group called Moms Demand Action in response to the horrific Sandy Hook shooting. A year later Moms Demand Action and Mayors Against Gun Violence merged together into what is now known as Everytown.

Then on February 14th, 2018 an expelled student killed 17 students and injured 17 more at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland Florida. This atrocity created a new wave of protests and movements to try and prevent something like this from ever happening again. One of the biggest movements was March For Our Lives, a protest that was created by the new Students Demand Action organization. This march had over 40 locations and 2.5 million people in attendance, yet even with media attention lawmakers turned a blind eye and continued to do nothing. And though it must have been so disheartening for no actions to be made, Students Demand Action continued to make protests and push for legislation in order to stop gun violence especially at schools.

The most recent protest was a nationwide walkout in reaction to the Texas elementary school shooting that killed 19 people. At 9am students and teachers from all over the nation walked out of the classroom. At SCVi the majority of students and a lot of teachers all joined in the quad to protest gun violence. We stood there with signs saying things such as “school is for learning not lockdowns”, “we deserve to feel safe”, and “fix this before I text my family from under a desk.” It was honestly surreal -the sheer amount of students there and the somber anger of it all.

There have been so many tragedies over the past couple years, Sandy Hook, Parkland, Saugus, and the list goes on and on for pages. The majority of people have become too numb to it all. Children dying in their classrooms has become something that just happens, something that I myself have caught myself thinking “when” and not “if.” School shooting drills happen as often as earthquake and fire drills. This is not normal and this is not ok. No student should be in fear every time they hear a loud bang. We shouldn’t have to lock our doors, teachers shouldn’t have to act as guards. This horror should never have started much less should it seemingly never stop. The time to act was before the trigger was pulled in the first place. No one acted then, so we need to act now.

If you are interested in joining students demand action please go to https://studentsdemandaction.org/

Diamante Crescitelli-Cameron

Sources 

“Our History” EveryTown For Gun Safety: https://www.everytown.org/about-everytown/history/

“How Shannon Watts went from stay at home mom to founder of the largest gun violence prevention org in the U.S” MSNBC: https://www.msnbc.com/know-your-value/career-growth/how-shannon-watts-went-stay-home-mom-founder-largest-gun-n1149651 

“Teen gunman kills 17, injures 17 at Parkland, Florida high school” History:https://www.history.com/this-day-in-history/parkland-marjory-stoneman-douglas-school-shooting 

“Students Demand Action Walkout Activation Toolkit” Students Demand Action: https://studentsdemandaction.org/report/walkout-activation-toolkit/

Define Me

I was told to be a lady.
Even as a child.

 
I was to be dainty, 

keep my hands folded in my lap, 

cross my legs at the ankle, 

don’t let my panties peek out from under my dress, wear a dress, 

don’t scuff my shoes, 

keep things polished, 

clean and neat.

I was told not to care about such things.
Regaled with tales of freedom

of hill climbing freedom

of independence and blue jeans and frolicking with boys freedom. 

Of dirty faces and hands. 

Of smiles and smears of mud.

But the Tom Sawyer life was not to be mine.

I was to be a lady.

I was told to study.

To pay attention.

Some day this would be crucial. 

Some day this would matter.
I was told to excel, 

to be the top of my class, 

to know things and learn things and appreciate fine arts.

I was told not to be such a nerd.

Be cool. 

Be athletic and pretty and popular. 

Be well liked by strangers, 

dress a certain way, 

act a certain way.

But not that way.

  
I was told I laughed too much,
and sang too loudly,
and smiled too broadly.
Don't dance,
don't be so silly.

I was asked to be beautiful, 

to be skinny, 

to stay in fashion,

to keep myself kept,

to value things

designer things, nice cars, good wine.

I was taught to shun material things and work on my inside.

I should be kind, 

I should be compassionate, 

I should forgive, 

I should become one with the universe.

I should speak out for others.  

I was told to keep my mouth shut and let others repeat my words so they could be heard.

I was to be polite and nurturing.
I was to keep my temper and temper my cursing.
I was not to be judgmental or opinionated. 

My opinions were wrong,

My feelings nonconsequential.

I was to be needed but not to be needy.
I was to be graceful and uplifting.
I was to be serious, but welcoming.

I should watch the frown lines and the laugh lines.
I should watch my weight.
I should exercise, but never sweat.
I should not age. 

I should consider plastic surgery.

I should forego sleep to cater to others, 

I should always appear fully rested.

I was told to be a lady,

a wife, 

a mother, 

a caretaker. 

Dependable. Reliable. Self sacrificing. Supporting. 

A good, solid adult. 

Fold the fitted sheets, make the beds, return the shopping carts, buy the Girl Scout cookies 

But never, 

ever

eat them.

One Right Thing

You need your haircut and your manicures. You need your adult beverages and your nights out.

More importantly, you need to work. You need to see your friends. You need hugs.

I get it. Me too.

So you need to open it back up.

I get that too.

Except why was it closed in the first place? To prevent the spread, right? 

The day our world closed here in California, there was only 0.006% of the U.S. population infected (about 20,000 people) and only 260 dead - a 1% death rate.

Today, not quite 2 months later, we are sitting at 0.45% of the population infected (nearly  1.5 million people) and 88,200 people dead – a 6% death rate .

You do understand that that has been while we’ve been in quarantine, right? But, hey, despite that impressive growth it’s still a tiny percentage of the total population.

I’m speculating, it's true. I’m just spit-balling that once we’re all out there milling around with each other the numbers will grow and the percentages will turn grim. Maybe that's not the case. I'll allow that. 

But could you at least wear a mask for a bit? Wash your hands more diligently? Could you go at a slow pace and test the waters first?

No? It’s all or nothing, is it?

I know. You have your convictions. Besides, you probably don’t know anyone personally with it and the folks over 65 can just stay holed up because they are already retired and have no life anyway.

I get it. I really do.

... I think. (Though I may have very strong feelings about how idle people over 65 are…)

But the thing is, it’s not just retired people. It’s not just our parents and grandparents that we need to bubble wrap and protect. 

It's my kid. 

My kid isn’t safe. My kid could die if she caught this. She almost certainly would. She’s more likely to perish from this thing than your granny, so while you are opening the world back up – before the numbers make any real sense and against the advice of doctors and scientists and experts in the field – well, she has to stay inside watching and missing out until the numbers come down enough for her to be safe.

And the part where you are so very unwilling to practice any kind of caution while at the same time so very willing to dole out tough love on me – or more especially on her – that’s the part that really gets under my skin.

“Tough luck.”

“That’s her lot in life, right? We all got something to deal with.”

“Sucks to be her.”

 “… if you want to stay indoors after this! Trust me... we are all better off without you!”

“No one needs you libtards and your masks anyway.”

Listen, I get it. You’re frustrated and stir crazy and probably getting super low on funds. It makes you angry and a bit irrational. But not everything in the world is about you and not everything is on one side or the other of the political divide. Sometimes it’s not about being loyal to a party or flaunting your perceived power. Sometimes the best way to be a citizen of the UNITED States is to unite to protect each other. Sometimes you should just do the goddamn right thing - just one right thing.

Because sometimes it turns out who you are really at war with is a kid. Just a kid. A kid that was born with something she didn’t ask for nor can control. A kid that would very much like to be an adult someday. It’d be great if you would allow her that opportunity.

So shut up and wear the fucking mask.