Places to go … Right? Go places. I’d love to go here, somewhere in the Outback. My thanks to Baz, from Australia, who keeps me looking up, and into the Wild. T
Hey, Guys … I have wanted to write this post for a while. This is for men; this is for the sons who need good men to be in their life; this is for women who can encourage men as they feel led. And just as importantly: this is for the young people in our generation, in our lives, who desperately need something, like support, like a “Hello”. Years ago, I worked with at-risk kiddos: both boys and girls; mostly adolescents. I remember in a group we were having at the group home, one boy was responding to my words that his participation in the group without screaming profanity was very important to everyone. His words were:
Here is what he meant:
The question, “Who cares?!”, I learned is not meant as a question, but a statement. After the boy asked that question, I answered him: “I care.” He looked at me, rolled his eyes, and said “It wasn’t a question.” There are two other questions that were “asked” often:
“What difference does it make?”
“So WHAT?! What are YOU … going to do?”
These two questions were like the first one: statements.
Okay, my point is this. One of the dynamics that was going on, and maybe the kiddo did not even realize it, was this … in my own description:
A boy throws out a question that is really a sneer, another version of
“F _ _ _ Y _ _”.
The question / statement is also meant as a dare. My paraphrase, instead of “Who Cares?”, what is meant is this: I DARE YOU TO CARE! Don’t tell me you care, because I’ve heard it all before by mean people, and didn’t care. You say you care, but I am going to go run from this place, and … guess what? You’ll never see me again! Do you know how many stinking counselors I’ve had since I was ten, when Social Services took me away from my parents? No, don’t tell me you care. I know better.”
I’m going to add one statement to those three questions:
“I don’t care.”
The big picture, guys, is that this area of discussion is a big mess. Our society has betrayed our kiddos. If you were to invest into a kiddo, one of your hurdles would be to give that kiddo a reason to care. Another hurdle: to show that you actually do care ( in response to the question). And it will probably take a while. Another hurdle: get a handle on how you are going to answer the other question, “What are you going to do?” If you say you are going to do something, then do it.
Don’t promise what you cannot deliver.
For their question about “difference” … that’s a tough one. Our kiddos today need to see the difference, because talk … is … cheap.
And, my last encouragement, guys, is this. As men (not kids / adolescents) we have our own “stuff”. Maybe some of you are saying to yourselves right now,
“I … Don’t … Care.”
If you do not care, then forget about investing into the life of a kiddo. Let me rephrase that:
forget about investing into the life of a kiddo.
If its your son or you daughter, that is a different story but the importance of caring is no less important. If you are doing the “I don’t care”, then you need to … somehow … get your butt from the stagnant pool of toxic emotions where you are sitting in, to some dry ground, where you will stand firm, and stand in the gap, and fight for your son and your daughter. You are needed now. Let’s do this. This could be one of your finest hours.
That Australian fella … Man, he comes up with some great posts and some stunning photos. I thought you might like this image, from Baz. Peace, T
I had another flashback of Antarctica. I don’t mind them. I wish I could go back. But finding a blogger in Antarctica helps. Enjoy. T
Originally posted on Kirk of the Antarctic:
I have just completed making a short and longer version of a Spey descent with my good mate Biscuit guiding it. I paddled solo alongside the team in a constant battle to keep up and overtake the team and get shots. A hard work shoot but very worthwhile as I got many different angles. Some of the more exciting ones coming from the air. Flying my Quadcopter twice a day over the water was one of my most adrenaline filled parts of the descent for me. It does not float and is not waterproof. Have a watch below.
Shorter version for youtube and Facebook 3.30mins
Longer version for websites of the full 4 day descent 8.40mins
Rolling Creek Trail, late afternoon. The trail curved a bit to my right, which was south-west. I started to hear the water. After about 10 to 15 yards, the trail headed downward, and I could see Rolling Creek flowing from the west, moving at a good rate of speed. I stopped when I reached the creek, took a knee, dipped my left hand down into the icy cold water, and splashed my face a few times. I know that some fellas have their system conditioned in such a way that they can actually drink the water from the fast-moving creeks. I don’t understand that; and I do not foresee that happening with me anytime in the near future. But dousing my face with water from the Rolling Creek has never been a problem.
I remember a professor who said this, my paraphrase:
“I would much rather my students drink from a rushing creek, than from a pool of stagnant water.”
What he was talking about, when I first heard those words, was his integrity as a teacher. “Prepare for the teaching you will be doing for your students. They deserve nothing less. If you do not come prepared, they will know it, even if you don’t know … that you are ill prepared.”
The moving creek, versus the stagnant pool.
We have to keep moving. No way around it.
A map and a mysterious letter arrived in the mail from Egypt, a professor asking me to consult with him on a dig. He warned me that a band of zealots were attempting to stop him from continuing with the dig. The professor described them as notorious and obnoxious; known as “Asmemeken Aguibeha”: English translation, “Bring it”.
I could not find my fedora, my bull whip, my khakis, my leather jacket, and that strange-looking bag with a shoulder strap that I put archaeological finds in. Without my profoundly important gear, I almost scrapped the adventure …
. . . that was not an option. Guys who heroically go in (usually at night, not really), an extraction team, TAP (Tube And Pump) with a state-of-the-art tank on the back of the truck, were to arrive on Thursday @ 3pm. No fedora? No bull whip? No khakis? No leather jacket? No strange-looking bag with a shoulder strap that I put archaeological finds in? No map? “Too bad,” I told myself. I had shovel, pick-axe, water …
When I first heard about this sobering story, I said to myself:
“Seriously? What a bunch of NONSENSE! What … I was born yesterday?”
So, the dirt was stacked against me; or, maybe they were cards … I did not know. But, I am Indiana Wild Man, and this is what I do, when I am not eating chocolate chip cookies and drinking black coffee … very, very, black coffee. And, I also look like Indiana Jones. Then again, maybe not.
I had to dig down two feet of dirt to uncover the concrete caps of the septic tank. I knew a man in Kabul, who would provide me with more information about this archaelogical dig, and get me the supplies I needed: ropes, sherpas, food, water balloons, chocolate-chip cookies, and … most importantly … black coffee; very, black coffee. Unfortunately, he was a Kabul-in-a-china-closet, and he had just experienced an episode. The secret police were watching my friend. So, I never made it to Kabul. I’m not sure why I even mentioned it.
Once the tomb of insufferable stink was uncovered, I knew … as Indiana Wilder Man… that the septic of doom must stay sealed until the guys from the service showed up, otherwise the earth might rip off of it’s axis and hurl into the sun. Fire-breathing humming birds could possibly storm the Rocky Mountain Mountain Region. And I would have to live with such an agonizing guilt.
This was truly a hair-raising adventure, which was good, because my hair is quite thin, up on top. And, this dig … at the Septic of Doom … required super-human strength. But, I am Indiana Wilder Man, and a chartered member of a group called “Asmemeken Aguibeha”.
My heart truly goes out to the countless goodhearted, wise, godly, Catholics … angry and saddened … for fellow-Catholics who have been sexually abused by Catholic priests / nuns. Another story in the news: victims of sexual abuse, perpetrated upon by Catholic priests, get a settlement (Seattle).
*”The Archdiocese of Seattle … to pay about $12.125 million to 30 men who alleged they were sexually abused as children and teens at two Seattle-area schools from the 1950s until 1984, their attorney said.” http://news.msn.com/us/seattle-archdiocese-to-pay-dollar12-million-to-settle-child-sex-abuse-claims-lawyer
“The agreement comes weeks after Pope Francis said the Roman Catholic Church had to take a stronger stand on a sexual abuse crisis that has disgraced it for more than two decades.” (Same article: http://news.msn.com/us/seattle-archdiocese-to-pay-dollar12-million-to-settle-child-sex-abuse-claims-lawyer
Those words from Pope Francis stir up many questions:
“(The Catholic Church should) … take a stronger stand on a sexual abuse crisis that has disgraced it for more than two decades.”
Pope Francis’ words came, according to the article, within the last several weeks. And sexual abuse has been happening since … the 1950’s (?) … but they have made a profound observation that there needs to be more action taken regarding the priests and nuns who are sex offenders. Pope Francis’ words refer to the Catholic Church being “disgraced”. Surely this does not suggest that the Catholic leadership is more concerned about how the Catholic Church is viewed, than the hearts / minds / souls of their victims of sexual abuse? I wonder: if the sexual abuse was not exposed, would the Catholic Church still have been disgraced?
And if the Catholic Church had not been disgraced, then would their really be a problem in their eyes? The words “Hush Money” have been used in articles / news referring to funds for victims of sexual abuse to be quiet about their abuse. “Hush Money”, therefore, is for keeping the Catholic Church from disgrace. Did the sexual abuse victims feel “disgraced” after they had been abused? I think anyone would feel disgrace after being violated in a sexually abusive way. Many victims kept silent for a long time. Why? Shame? Fear of reprisal? Concern that no one would believe them? “Disgrace”? And yet, the Catholic Church communicates their concern, more about the Catholic Church’s disgrace, than with the victims of the sexual abuse from Catholic priests. For the cases that have been exposed, it was no longer “Hush Money” … but instead a pitiful rationalization, my paraphrase: “If we pay you this money, then its all settled. You go your way, and we will continue to do what we do.”
The Church (globally) in America calls people to live with integrity, to be safe, to be honorable, to be virtuous. At least, there is some good news: the “Hush Money” is exposed; the sex offender priests are being exposed; the numbers (settlements and victims) are being made known. All of this as opposed to the secrets continuing.
- Secrecy …
- Is a predominant theme …
- In the depravity / violence of …
- Sex offenders …
- And the fear / shame of …
When the secrets are told, the secrets lose power.
Here are some numbers, some of many, that are staggering.
*Roman Catholics spent $615 million on sex abuse cases in 2007, alone.
*$85 million in September of 2003 (just that month).
*$100 million in 2005, January.
“According to Donald Cozzens, ‘by the end of the mid 1990s, it was estimated that… more than half a billion dollars had been paid in jury awards, settlements and legal fees.’ This figure grew to about one billion dollars by 2002.” http://en.wikipedia.or/wiki/Settlements_and_bankruptcies_in_Catholic_sex_abuse_cases
Between 1994 & 2009,there have been over 1,835 victims of sexual abuse.
Settlements / legal fees between 1994 & 2009? $1.269 billion.
Here is the last piece in the story that brings about great disruption and immeasurable sadness from the link, http://news.msn.com/us/seattle-archdiocese-to-pay-dollar12-million-to-settle-child-sex-abuse-claims-lawyer:
Seattle Archbishop J. Peter Sartain said in a statement on Tuesday (6/24/14), according to the Seattle Times newspaper,
“Our hope is that this settlement will bring them closure and allow them to continue the process of healing.”
REALITY CHECK, people. Let’s not be so naive as to think that there is going to be significant healing with all of these men and women who have been victimized. For some, yes. For some, no … for some there will be no healing. And its possible that some individuals are hearing Sartain say (my paraphrase) …
“Hey, here’s the money; and its a lot of money; so, since we are paying out a lot of money, then we expect for there to be a lot of healing, and then we won’t feel so bad. And we don’t want to hear anymore about this. Now, get out of here.”
Now, I know; I know, I know, I know … that those were not the words from the archbishop from Seattle … but if I was a victim of sexual abuse from the Catholic Church, I might just think that way about what Sartain is saying.
The money …
d o e s n o t c h a n g e …
The money …
d o e s n o t g u a r a n t e e …
Last question, maybe irrelevant:
Is there any correlation between victims of sexual abuse and suicide?
Those are just a few links to go to if you are interested. All links are unanimous in their research: yes, there is a correlation between childhood sexual abuse and suicide. So, healing? No, not for everyone.