Was It Wrong?

Throughout life we are going to take part in activities, actions, decisions and choices which we may have been right about or wrong. As time passes, we look back and question, "was it wrong?"

I was home when the house phone rang. My kids were sleeping and the wife was away. So I answered a frantic call from a sister. A group of thugs barged into her home and fought one her sons. I jumped in my car and went right over. When I got to the house, the door was open and the cops were inside questioning my sister. The police were being aggressive and accusing her about what took place. I got upset with the cops and told them, there are kids here and you are acting like that? I took the second oldest son and we went out. The son knew the group who came to the house and who assaulted the older brother. My nephew took me to where the group hung out. A party was going on a number of people were outside the row of houses. I went there and said, "Where is Roots?" A young man said "Who the fuck wants to know?"  I pulled out my gun and said "I do."  From there a scramble took place, with some screaming and running off. The man who answered me was now frantically trying to open the front door but the people who ran inside locked the door. So he was pulling on the door and it wouldn't open. It was a funny scene. People ran all over, so I chased and trapped one at the side of the street. Got him to go on his knees, asked his name. He had a beer bottle in his hand and started to use the name of my nephew, that is when I fired. I didn't hit him, just scared him.

Was it wrong?

We pulled up the house, me and my cousin. The person who lived in this house was a predator. He lured young boys with cigarettes and such. We stood outside the home in the dark and waited. I had the knife in my hand and I waited, we waited. We decide to go sit in the car for a bit. We came back just as the person's car drove off, we missed our opportunity that night. I had no doubt what was to come.

Was it wrong?

There was this fellow who asked my Dad for a favour. I told the fellow, "my Dad likes you, so don't rip him off." My dad was a generous man. He did the favour. He drove an hour out of town to purchase some Manomin for a fellow. He paid for the rice and delivered to the city which is one hundred kilometers away from the Reserve. Dad received a cheque from the fellow for the cost of the rice, not including the gas and time my Dad had spent. My Dad would not have expected it anyway. A couple of weeks later my Dad told me if I saw the fellow, the cheque had bounced. So I drove to the city, went to the restaurant the fellow was operating. I took out my knife and "poked" him in the leg. The fellow cried and claimed it was the Bank which made the error. The fellow's wife also said it was the Bank which made the mistake. They decided to give cash to me in order to give to my Dad.

Was it wrong?

A young man had owed my friends (and me) quite a considerable amount of money. He also sold his ownership of a business back to us which we jointly owned. However, he would not sign off on the paperwork despite the agreement and outstanding debt. So it was not fair. A lot of money had gone missing from the business and he was in the middle of the missing money. So I spoke to his business partner and close friend. His friend asked me to handle the situation and get him to sign off on the business. So a couple of my friends and I met him the young man on a road. The young man had gotten pepper sprayed and had an iron bar to his legs and back. It was a message he now understood. I met him after a period of time and he cried saying he "just wants to go home."

Was it wrong?

This fellow, a very charismatic, charming smart guy had been robbing us blind. He was bold and had no care in the world or any regret or remorse about it. I had brought a behemoth of an Indian guy down to the Reserve to have a word with this fellow. I asked him to come for a ride with me and the fellow happily jumped into the car with me. The behemoth jumped in the back sit after the fellow was in, I guess the fellow didn't see him. So we went for a ride. The fellow keep asking, "wwwhaaa-where are we going?" We didn't have any real idea in mind, so we took him to the Reserve garbage dump. He got out of the car and then we started asking him, "where's the money?" He denied taking and robbing anyone. He was not very pleased, his crying was tiring for us to hear. We asked him to get on the ground, as he lay with face on the dirt, he imagined a gun to his head. Just then a truck came down the dusty road to the garbage dump. We got him to stand up. "Just teasing" we said and we took him back to the restaurant and dropped him off.

Was it wrong?

It was not very late in the evening I was driving to visit my daughter at the other end of the city. My niece called, my sister-in-law called, my nephew called. My nephew was way up North working at the Mine. My niece had been fought in front of her baby. My sister-in-law had been kicked out of her house and it was being used as a drug den for Meth heads. The sister-in-law was being threatened by a couple of guys now occupying her house. I kept getting numerous calls for help. I couldn't say no to the requests. I decide to drive out to the Reserve from the City that night. I asked again if I should intervene and was told to go and help. I arrived about an hour and a half later. I got a nephew to go with me to the house due to number of people that were suppose to be in the house, five meth heads. I could not open the door, I told my nephew to pull open the door and it opened, the next door was bolted shut. I told my nephew to bust it open, he kicked it open. As I entered the house, I was greeted with profanity, yelling, screaming at me. I let go with an iron bar. I entered the next room to be greeted by a huge young man. There was a knife on the table, so it went from there. The result, two people had cracked their ankles or legs, not sure. Others were told to get out. The two were told to get out, they crawled out. The house was a drug den and in a shambles. The next couple of days the sister-in-law was able to move back in.

Was it wrong?

Now This is a Knife 

Fictional persons disclaimer: The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed here are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.

Little Big Man Meet Michelle Kenidi as Tina Keeper

North of 60 was a big time Canadian show in the 1990's. You got to see this group of Indian people in their community. North of 60 had all the checkmarks of a good tv: beautiful hero, the nemesis, wide range of interesting characters and drama. The show had a great following and it ran for six seasons. It was a show where Indigenous folk where the main characters. Like many I watched it and liked seeing Indians on tv. For me though, the constant drama was a downer, but drama and conflict makes good tv. I saw cool Neechies on the show for sure and it was a great show. But I didn't see many of my cousins, the crazy ones, the Kooshqwaycon (crazy one) there. I didn't see the Indian who would burn your outside toilet down. I didn't see the Indian who would walk around outside in the winter with only a BlueJean jacket on, unbuckled. I didn't see Old Billy running around with only his underwear on while being chased by the wife wielding a willow stick as the kids looked from the picture window.  I didn't see me, who walked into the Chiefs office and took the big Indian art painting off the wall and walk out, only to be met at the door by the Chief, only to say "just teasing ya." I guess it was not made to include that type of Indian. The thing for me which was kind of bothersome was the "traditional" looking Neechies were kind of the bad folk, the villains. Except for Jimmy Herman who was a bit of both. He didn't have to act cool, he could just be in the screen shot and big cool. Jimmy Herman in another life could have been the Indian who put an arrow through the eye of General George Armstrong Custer (Custer was shot in his head and in his heartless chest).

As a kid I saw tv shows and movies with Indians as side characters or the bad guys, also known as the Savage. I got excited to see Neechies on tv. Heck I didn't even know when it was a white guy dyed brown for the role. Michael Zenon played Joe Two Rivers on The Forest Rangers. The Forest Rangers was TV show in the early 1960's filmed in Canada. I really thought this guy was Indian, even when he was speaking Anishinaabemowin to Makwa. He sounded funny when spoke it and some words didn't make sense. I guess Indians didn't have many roles in TV or the movies. There were a few movies that did have bonafide Neehies (abbreviated Anishinaabe word for friend). Jeremiah Johnson, Little Big Man, A Man Called Horse, Solider Blue were shows with a Native slant but some of them didn't have a big Native cast. Solider Blue had a few Mexican actors for the more important Indian scenes. The Indians in Jeremiah Johnson didn't have much dialog but they sure were strikingly gorgeous, even when Robert Redford was killing them. Of course the main Indian was Mexican. I think Little Big Man was my favourite movie of the bunch. All the movies of course have the Whiteman as the hero, but who would watch an Indian killing White folk? Little Big Man was a movie which made us laugh. I don't know who wrote the lines for Chief Dan George, but Chief Dan George made the lines his. Little Big Man showed us Indians were real folk and the Whiteman could never be trusted, even when you adopt them; remind me about Old Injun Joe Boyden again?

Finding out Indians in the movies were not Indians was like eating rotten cheese. You only notice it is rotten after it is almost done and now you feel yourself throwing up. I remember reading about Joe Two Rivers being a Ukrainian. I felt robbed. Robbed like when someone emptied my bank account and I started screaming around in the bank saying "I'm being robbed." Bank folk just looked like they saw Big Foot among the trees as I tried to come to grips with the robbery. Even in North of 60 there was an Indian who had a role in there who may not have be Indian. Classic Hollywood move there.

The North of 60 gave voices and faces to Indians. They were the good guys and the bad guys. They had lives outside of getting killed by Jeremiah Johnson. The have lives outside of being betrayed by Little Big Man. They have lives outside of being shot to death by US Solider's Blue, the dreaded Cavalry.  They have lives outside of hanging a White man called Horse to the Sundance Tree (even though it was really cool. The Drumbeat at the beginning of the Tree Hookup scene was kind of weird but hey it made for a good movie). In any case lot of White Folk painted up as Indians in those Classic Hollywood movies.  With North of 60, the Hero was a tall brown fine looking Indian Woman. and she was really an Indian and not a fine looking Asian Woman.  Now that is what you call authentic stuff.

Tina Keeper and "That Guy" who is no
Wind In His Hair. 

I still enjoy the movies with Indians in them but I will not totally believe it is an Indian until I see their Sundance scars or the Treaty Card in their purse or wallet. Been fooled before and it is not a good feeling. "There's an old saying in Tennessee - I know it's in Texas that says, Fool me once, shame on - shame on you, you fool me - you can't get fooled again."

From Hong Kong, Sunshine - Little Big Man  

When The World Stopped Turning

Where were you when the World stopped turning? American country singer Allan Jackson wrote the song in response to the Twin Towers being struck, September 11, 2001. I have to say I do not like this song. I know, how could I not like a song with such heartfelt sentiment; heartfelt sentiment for those who were killed on the 9/11 day? It deals with the shock, the tragedy, the heart break and clinging to God for comfort. There is no doubt the 9/11 was a tragic and horrible event, 3,500 people were killed and two masses buildings were obliterated.

For me this is a song, which is truly political, shares the narrow vision of the U.S. (and Western World). It is the arrogance of it all. The song Where were you when the World stopped turning, discounts every other Nation, every other incident of Horror out there. There is much to loath in the words of the song. The ignorance on full display; not knowing the difference between Iraq and Iran.

I'm just a singer of simple songs
I'm not a real political man
I watch CNN, but I'm not sure I can tell you
The diff'rence in Iraq and Iran
But I know Jesus and I talk to God 

There is a complete disregard for all the worldly beliefs by Nations other than Christians. This demonstrates that no one even sees or imagines other people existing outside of the U.S. and it is disturbing.  The Middle East (as it is lumped together by media) has a wide range of People, history, variety of beliefs and governance systems. Yet it is packaged as a single unit of Desert Dwellers (derogatory term for Muslims, Arabs). There is no value placed on the lives of others. What is a child worth? The US before 9/11 and after 9/11, killed hundreds and thousands of lives. Many of those lives were mother's and children. It is alright though, after all it is the Middle East, Desert Dwellers, Muslims, Arabs, isn't it?

The song with its seemingly heartfelt sentiment is a very divisive statement. It is a statement of intolerance and hate, disguised as comfort and memoriam. We totally ignore the plight faced by the people of the Iran, Iraq region and the various Peoples like the Kurds.  Lost in the Middle East narrative by the U.S. is the foreign interference for access by oil greedy countries. There is no song being sung about the numerous people killed by U.S. and their allies, post 9/11 ("at least 480,000 people have been directly killed by violence over the course of the these conflicts, more than 244,00 of them civilians"). The U.S. used the 9/11 tragedy for direct control over oil. They ignored the true culprits of the attacks.

It is indeed horrible about the 2,977 lives lost in the planes and the buildings when the attack occurred. There is a lot of horror in the world.

Since this song has been made we are currently witnessing the death of hundred of thousands of Children in the Middle East. 

Punishment By Naming The Faceless

I remember the Oka "Crisis" of 1990. Many of us Indian folk would not be in Quebec for the attacks by the Military on Mohawks over Land. The Town of Oka wanted to build a golf course on Mohawk land. The treatment of the Indians by the Military and by the public was and is shameful.  One of the things which is forever etched in my mind, my memory is the photos of white men, white women throwing rocks at Indian Women, Indian Elders and Indian kids as they drove across a bridge.

There was a whole town of folk throwing rocks at Indian people. The cops stood by and watched. I can still see this white guy, in pink shorts a 70's style mustache and mullet throwing rocks with a happy look on his face. Who the guy is I have no clue. I wonder if his family knows what he did? Where they proud, ashamed or didn't really think about it? I wonder if he carries any shame for his despicable crime?

There are so many incidents where anonymity emboldens hatred and ugliness. Large numbers can be used to hide in plain view. Standing in a crowd can be a cover for those who are ugly and willing to do harm. I wonder if they knew they would be identified if they would go ahead with their actions? Perhaps shining a spotlight on them, would stop them in their tracks? Just like when I am hunting Deer with a million candle watt power spotlight. The deer is just frozen and I take a kill shot right in the head. Of course I don't condone using a spotlight on Deer or anyone for that matter, I am just illustrating a point (analogy or allegory I don't know). The thing is exposing the ugly should or could be meaningful.

We are in an age of ugly; the world is in chaos with the rise of hate (Nazi's, White Supremacist, Saudi Arabia killings,  Rohingya being genocide by Myanmar,  Syria slaughter, Brazil burning its country, Russia expanding, China's jailing of Muslims, and the Burning of the Planet by greedy corporations). The question is what can we do about it?

There is not much we can do. There are so many people expressing the frustration at the chaos in the world. People will march, protest, engage in debate, make documentaries, donate money, write letters, vote in government elections, take their own lives and of course murder someone; all in an attempt to get change. With the action you would expect acknowledgement by the powers in control of the world to say your are heard. The opposite seems to be taking place. Jamal Khashoggi was a journalist who used his voice to point out the ugly. It got him killed; he was chopped up in an Embassy, an Embassy, can you imagine that? In other situations children are being slaughtered and the powers to be seem fine with it. Twenty 6-year old kids were shot and killed while sitting in school. The powers with the ability to change things, changed nothing. Children are still dying, voices are still being silenced and the Earth is still burning.

The thing is almost everyone is faceless. Even in their public lives they are anonymous. We can internet search for almost everyone but we need to know who we are searching for:  Darren Woods, Rex Tillerson, Michael Dolan, Mark Abers, Brad Corson, Rich Kruger, Borja Prado Eulate, Ulf Mark Schneider, Paul Bulcke, and many many more people. This tiny example of names are the public faceless killers of the Earth. We really don't know who they are. We don't really know the corporations they are championing. We don't really know how much damage they are doing.

So what if we name them? There is absolutely no consequence to seeing these names in a public forum. There could be or should be. The legacy left is one of destruction; all for the greedy pursuit of money and power. There should be a compiled list of all those Wiindigo, the corporations, the owners, the leaders and supporters which are greedily destroying the Earth. The legacy these Wiindigo leave should be carried on the shoulders of their families; the Sins of our Fathers. Shame is a hard emotion to carry. We are at the point in the world where the Planet killers have no care. Can they be shamed? Maybe erasing their public facelessness may be the way to get them to care?

Just the other day two men were on a plane saying all sorts of racist garbage to Inuit people on the same plane. The first news attention had these men's faces blurred out and not named. The story gained traction and the men faces were shown, they were banned from the airline, the company they worked for lost its contract with a major construction project, and the company they worked directly for fired them. There was a follow up article saying how sorry they were and about how their family was ashamed and they were worried about their futures (two old white men earning a living in Indigenous areas). The naming the faceless.

The families of these Wiindigo are not innocent. By way of association they should bear the cross (do you like how I linked the a couple of Biblical references so far) of their parents, after all they share in the spoils? They should carry the shame of the despicable crimes their parents have committed. Maybe have them do the Walk of Shame like in Game of Thrones. I might pay to see that.

I love my kids and my grandkids, so I hope I would think twice about the harm I cause them when I behave like a Wiindigo. We want the best for our kids. So why are the greedy corporations and their collective owners not caring for their kids?

Hero to You, Monster to You

"...And for the cruel person who rips out the heart by which I live, neither thistle nor mustard do I tend: I tend a white rose..." 

I believe we have all met the monster, the individual or individuals who torment us. Funny how our tormentor could be a friend, a family or just someone in the community. The monster does not hide from you. What is really strange is this monster might be a hero somewhere else. 

I met many monsters in my life. They always seem to be bullies. I know this one guy, man he was a bad person. A big guy of course, and mean. Never seemed to pick on his own size, he relied on his size, his meanness and his surprise to hurt someone. A rather despicable creature. Weird how this monster had lots of friends, seemed to be well liked and had numerous female companions. Guess people do like a "bad boy?" Like many monsters, he was very likeable, very good looking, charismatic, charming and affable. I have no doubt he was a hero to many. 

The monster isn't limited by gender. Wicked can be a word to describe some of the female monsters we meet. And like other monsters, a hero in other circles. I know some pretty wicked ugly women who command a great deal of respect in the community. Some are even bestowed the title of Elder? Elder for shit sakes. I wonder how the monsters and heroes are going to feel being outed? 

Being outed as a monster is a process Canada is engaged in: an Indian Day School settlement. The process involves the Indian stating what took place in school and who were the monsters. I wonder how the bullies feel? If they even recognize they were in fact monsters? The bigger boys who would, for no reason, just slap you in the testicles as you stood around oblivious to what was coming. To the Teacher who always engaged in showing off his scrotum and penis in gym class. He would get all the students sitting in front of him doing leg stretches, where he would open up his legs and show off his stick and balls to the kids. All the girls would laugh, do the collective loud "Errrrrrrrrrrr." The girls would be talking in the halls, "see his wrinkly old balls?"  The Teacher knew what he was doing. There were other Teachers who did not hide their monster mask and there were those who did. The open monster's had no issues with hitting you, beating you, locking you in lockers, and there were those who can be funny and nice. Next thing you know you get hit in the head with a chalk eraser, a book or what ever he could use to hit you with. Funny the other kids either got quiet or laughed, depending on how much you were hurt I guess. There was also very dark monsters and they can't hide. 

I think we have met lot of monsters and in some cases, demons. I had this one demon who constantly threatened to kill me. Fact was he was actually a coward, but his tormenting of me, did take a toll. Monsters have family and friends as this one did as well. So at home I imagine he could have been a good person, I don't know. All I know this person was evil to me. Evil where he swerved his truck toward me and my wife. My wife carried our one month old daughter and I walked on the road when the guy swerved so he could run us over. We were walking to our vehicle that was parked on the road next to the church; we were at funeral service of a loved one. It was a show by him as he swerved the truck back away from us, but it really bothered me. How evil can someone be? The monster should have limits you think? I guess there must be a level of monster-ness? 

There are famous monsters we know of like Joan Crawford, Leona Helmsley, Aung San Suu Kyi, Ellen DeGeneres, Madonna, Jennifer Lopez, Matt Laure, John Mayer, and Gandhi. So monsters are everywhere. Can we call Ellen a monster in the same category as Aung San Suu Kyi? Aung San is taking part in genocide of the Rohingya Muslims. Wild is the fact, Aung San received Nobel Peace Prize. While Ellen is not active in genocide (that we are pretty certain of), she is rumoured to be a terror at work. While she is a hero for many, she is a monster to others. 

Me, as a hero and self proclaimed god (not Thee God of course) I am sometimes torn by my actions of being a monster. So I rationalize my monster ways, weighing the wrongs I do with the good things I do. So basically I am trying to balance the ugly with the good I do. As I say, I'm trying to get into heaven by doing good while at the same time I have a foot at the stairway to hell.  So I keep a running tab on the good things. I also weigh how big the good thing is compared to the bad thing. Like the really horrible thing I have done in the past and not so past. So I realize picking up a hitch-hiker or buying a coffee, or holding open a door for someone is not extraordinarily good, but it's a good foundation to carry on. So I have to try and measure the amount of good I do against the bad I do. This way I can estimate if I am on the right side of being good. 

There are people in my circle who would absolutely kill for me and there are some in my group who wouldn't pee on me if I was on fire. Heroes and monsters should expect this type of reception. My friend says "And you! You're going straight to hell!" He will say to this to people he runs into at the Reserve. I laugh with him about telling people they are going to hell. I tell him I will see him there, and he says "No, not me I already have my ticket to heaven."  You got to admire people who are cool with who they are. 

I know a number of people who are heroes. I know them never to be anything but good people. I envy and appreciate them.  So I am glad there are heroes out there, who have no monster in them. 

On My Honour

My Mom told us a few times "be like this", as she held up her index finger, "and not like this" as she then bent it. She said my Mishoom, my Dad's Dad had told Mom and Dad this. It is not about being the crooked finger, as meaning not to be crooked, but rather be straight with your word. My Mishoom said, "your word has to mean something. In his day if you told someone, I will meet you in town it was not as quick and easy to get there, like it is today. So don't waste their time and not be there, be your word." Mom wanted us kids to be honourable, to mean what we say. Your name is a big thing and you have to act in a way to honour your word, your name.

Today we use the honour word and I'm not sure if we truly understand honour. For some reason whenever a person does a stupid thing, like dress in an Indian Headdress or do the "Tomahawk Chop", these people will say they are honouring the Indian. The secret is everyone knows it is pure nonsense. No one is honouring anyone. It is all about having fun at the expense of others.

Being a Granpa with very young grandkids, I am familiar with this saying "On my honour."  It was the Prince in Frozen who said it to the  Princess. I think I may use the phrase from now on; On My Honour. We practice Honour in different ways. There are the widely public honour events like the  Memorial Powwows, the Speech at Weddings, the Eulogy at a funeral, the Nomination of someone for office, and the presentation of awards. Honouring someone is not always in view of big audience, sometimes it is just you and the person.

We honour someone almost every single day. It can be as simple as the "nod."  Indians do this when they see or meet another Indian in a public setting. We nod at other Neechies when we pass by them on the street or at the mall. Same thing with people of other Nations, they see a person in Military uniform and give them a nod or a handshake. Some people may see police officer eating and decide to pay for their meal. Honouring someone can be as simple as just being courteous; like holding open the door for the next person to come in. You honour their presence with your good gesture. Many folk will honour their family with using a Namesake. I have Italian friends, Ojibwe friends, Cree friends  who have named their children after the Grandfather and the Grandmother, Uncle, Aunty and other family members.  Honouring someone is part of life. The sorry thing about honour is we may not recognize it. We can dishonour someone and dishonour our selves as easily as to honour someone. Honouring someone is honouring yourself.

For us, Indigenous folk we do believe in honour. It may seem we have lost our honouring ways but no it's still in our ways and our parents ways. We may be rough in some areas for sure but we do try. One of the ways we are showing honour is in how we address older folk as Auntie and Uncle. We also might be over board when it comes to the Honour Ceremonies and Honour Songs, which is a good thing. We are honouring our Ancestors by naming our Children with Traditional names. There is also the Naming Ceremony where people will seek a Spiritual Name for their child or themselves. The honour of giving a Spirit Name is given to an Elder. It is a two way street when Honour is involved. You honour the Elder by selecting them to name you or your child. The Elder should realize they have been honoured by you to think of them with such a significant act. They have become part of your or your child's experience. The name carried has now linked to the Elder. They should be aware of the enormity of this honour.

Honour is never really isolated. You carry it with you. I have had a difficult time writing about honour. Many times I have been dishonourable: violent, abusive, jealous, thoughtless, rude and not keeping my word. It is a constant on my mind and a source of regret. It can be the big things and also the not so big things which I think about. This spring I promised to make a copy of a Powwow CD and send it to a childhood friend living in another Reserve. The CD I was making a copy of was scratched and did not load fully into the computer. I didn't send the CD. It has been on my mind and I want to make good on my word. The honour of word is something we should all strive to keep. I have to make good on my word, to be Bushido (I don't know the Anishinaabe word) to have honour.  I want to be able to have a straight finger.

What are you doing to be able to say "On My Honour."

He Hits You, Dump Him.

Jealousy is not cute. Hollywood movies and sitcoms may portray the jealous boyfriend/girlfriend as being cute. "Ahhh you were jealous for me?"  My Mom used to scold about the "green monster." She was the recipient of some not so cute moments of jealousy so she had some experience. She used to warn us about how my Uncle was to our Aunty. No jealousy is not an indication that he loves you. It is a sign about how insecure we are as men so run away Women.

There are many little signs for you Women to watch out for. It starts very early on, when you are first becoming to know each other. He will say things like "I wish I knew you long ago." Why does he wish that? The experiences from your life make you who you are, so why would he want to negate that? Simple, he wants to be first, the first love, the first friend, he doesn't want you to have experienced relationship before you. He wants you all to himself. It will only become more and more pervasive as time goes on. He will say things like, "who you thinking of?" and "you still love him?".  In time it will become more harsher with him no liking how you do your makeup or have your hair styled. "Who you losing weight for?" It is crazy because the things which made you attractive to him are now his sense of dread. He doesn't like your friendly open mannerisms. He starts to hate it that you have friends. He will start with making remarks about your friends, saying "they are using you." The insecure man will be come angry, angry at you because he is jealous and doesn't feel good about himself. He will get mean, first with his words, "you were fucked before I fucked you." He will attack your house, break cups, punch walls and then he turns on you. He pushes you. He hits you. He chokes you. He puts you in the hospital. Finally he kills you.

It is easy to say, "Leave him." The fear of being alone, or the thought he will change, has people thinking there is light at the end of the tunnel. The man will be the man you want him to be, so you excuse his beahviour; "he didn't mean it, he was drunk, he is so kind when sober." Change is not an easy thing. Can an abusive man change? Maybe, there have been some who have. But not before there was much suffering by a Woman. In some cases the only reason a man is not beating you is because he is either in jail or he is dead.

A 3 year old boy was stabbed as he slept. He was stabbed in the neck and numerous times by a man who was abusive to the Mom. The boy suffered brain damage and was taken off life support. The story of what happened is one of abuse. The man had a restraining order and was not suppose to be in contact with the mother of the boy. He met up her a local bar, beat her and then he walked over to her home to stab the boy. The boy was not his son.

Innocence 

What I can only think is just how? How can anyone be so cruel?

What do we as a public do with our anger? How can we help the family? How can we do something tangible?  I say donate blood, take part in a rally, voice against domestic violence, call out men who are being abusive.