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Fall 2012

Hope for


How one community takes on human trafficking

She couldn’t take them all home, How one woman found motherhood.

What do you know? College material, a lesson in relabeling.

Hearing your gut.

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With grades like mine, how would I go? How could I go? And that didn’t matter because I had no interest in going, anyway. I walked the graduation stage without career goals, no prospects and no skills. I always had a job. There was babysitting, the bake shop and then the flower shop. The details of my first jobs are mundane. I had one sleeping asset: I wanted to make a difference. My first boss may have seen it. He was not a warm and fuzzy guy; we had no special rapport. He was taking courses for his MBA and started cajoling me about taking classes, too. I blew off the idea. I was not college material. He persisted until I caved and took my first class just to shut him up. It was an English Composition class. I was happily surprised that I did well; I even looked forward to going and completing the assignments. Then on to another English class – that went just fine, too. I didn’t flunk or get kicked out because I wasn’t “college material.” One class at a time, one semester at a time, I got my collegial feet wet. Then there was Introduction to Psychology. The instructor was wickedly interesting and told the best stories. He was a clinician-turned-administrator and adjunct faculty. I couldn’t wait to learn and demonstrate my knowledge. And my life changed. The next semester was Abnormal Psychology with the same wickedly interesting instructor. The textbook read like a book of wisdom and truth to me. I think I may have slept with it. There was something different here, something I could not get enough of. We arrived at the chapter on addiction and there it was: bells, whistles,

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for for Women Women

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JJFall u || a u ll yy2012 au ug gu u ss tt 22 0 0 11 22


13 14 Hope for seattle


there in that classroom in Campbell Hall, my career goals were formulated. I researched career paths and learned about the Certified Addictions Counselor credential and commenced my quest to

contents contents

program. I was mak I gradually realiz sion for people with no coincidence. I co dots and found that

“I had one sleeping a wanted to make a diff






make a difference. I devoured materials on addiction. I knew it would take years to reach the point where I could earn that credential and I didn’t care. I worked full-time and went to school part -time, year round for seven years. I learned to speak in front of people and not feel queasy. An internship on the inpatient psychiatric unit confirmed my career goals, and I began to live out my desire to make a difference. I worked with patients who had every problem imaginable – psychosis, suicidality, addiction, trauma, personality disorders. I loved going there. I was exhausted and exhilarated when I left.


06 Just Walk 06 Justthe Walk 07 from editor 07 College Material 08 Parental Development I Do 22 10 the scar above my Knee 22 Better 29 tHatfoolThan Sex I’m Every 35 28 selah: Poet’sWoman Page

grown out of my life has been sober for o I graduated, earning science in Psycholog dad was there and h was an accomplishm everything that I eve myself. I found my p that I was smart eno through college and ference. I am college Another graduat horizon. I’m fulfillin ship requirement of preparing for gradu 2011. This time it’s a in Mental Health Co


a a local local response response to to Human Human trafficking. trafficking.

By Rose Mateo

13 Gut Talk

Hearing What You Forgot You Know 18 stepDad By Rose Mateo a a reflection reflection on on What What stepparenting stepparenting Can Can mean. mean.

By John A. Vieth

16 Hope for Seattle

How one community 24 the long search takes on human trafficking

new College grads new College grads show show grit grit as as they they By Rose Mateo Wait Wait out out the the economy. economy.

By Kimberly Miller and Jeremy Kenitz

24 New Mom to 3

32 gut talk A fate-starter takes the accelerated course

By Ilie Ruby Hearing What Hearing What you you forgot forgot you you Know. Know.

By Rose Mateo

WanT MORE? Go to


18 09

Balance: the scales tip on yes and no. By Marlene Lang


I Do.


JulyAugust 2012 • • Fall 2012




We had noticed that our world seemed presently to be toggling between dog-eat-dog women is. And why it is. First why: Because sometimes the choices are and dog-feed- dog philosophies and that the devouring pack was ever at the door. not between bad and good but between, what seems,bad and bad. That is when we women We knew women like ourselves who were need to go deep, to drop far inside ourselves to a simmering source of compassion and find the sacred chutzpah, which can be identi- empathy – and that women genuinely wanted to be a force for good in their worlds. fied in that dark place by its furry bunny ears We believe that our times call for women to dispensing invisible show that they are rays of courage. strong enough to be We are here to lend gentle when necesencouragement for sary or to be tough your search. We have inherited a world full bitches when that is There is a seriof hungry and sick children who exist called for. ous backdrop to alongside un-imaginable wealth. We are serious: all we do, but no Is it weak for women to rise up We have inherited one needs to know. and wail about it? a world full of Our meditation seshungry and sick sions are secret and children who sneaky. We make exist alongside un-imaginable wealth. people wonder what brand of energy drink we imbibe, or if we engage in yoga and moun- Is it weak for women to rise up and wail about it? To take those chiltaintop prayer. THATmag is a magazine that acknowl- dren under their wings, like hens? To call for an end to the greed and the fighting edges women’s social conscience without being preachy. One that dares to address her that continually create these conditions? spiritual quest without condemning her eye We don’t think so. Nor do we mind that in the midst of the mess, for fashion. women want to be pretty and talk weight and shoes. As female insiders, we know that women have much more going on. And yet, shoes and makeup and hairdos and relationships are going on. THAT magazine for women is a means of encouraging women to be all that they are: body, mind and heart. Whole.

Publishers’ Note

Rebekah Sweeney Publisher

4 • Fall 2012

Odds of a child becoming a top fashion designer:

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Some signs to look for:

No big smiles or other joyful expressions by 6 months.

No babbling by 12 months.

No words by 16 months.

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Mission Statement It is the mission of THATmagazine for women to encourage and inspire women especially, but all readers, to live whole lives that manifest healthy bodies, minds and hearts. The heart, to us, means the unseen seat of the emotions and spirit. We do not claim to define this; we only wish to feed it. It is the mission of THATmagazine for women to support those who are actively contributing to the well being of their fellow human beings. We intend to do this through our content and through contributions. We believe in the power of giving. It is the mission of THATmagazine for women to leave the world better than we find it.

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Rebekah Sweeney MANAGING EDITOR Marlene Lang Ana Lewis EDITOR-IN-CHIEF

CONTRIBUTING Marlene Lang WRITERS Kimberly Miller ASSOCIATE EDITOR RoseLang Mateo Janene Barb Buckman Strasko CONTRIBUTING WRITERS Madeline Masters John a. Vieth IlieKenitz Ruby Jeremy Kimberly Miller Elva Winter Rose Mateo Burroughs BarbStacey Buckman Strasko Janene Lang Meghan Lemery Madeline Masters

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You will feel energized, with a general mood-boost. 2. Your clothes will fit better. 3. It’s cheap. No membership fees. 4. You will hear your own thoughts— if you leave your earbuds at home. 5. You will look better naked. 6. Your cheeks will grow rosy —both sets. 7. You will process stressful thoughts —if you leave your earbuds at home. 8. Your awareness will switch to ON. You will notice dogs barking and children shouting, or whatever is happening around you. 9. You may have better orgasms. (Doctors say so.) 10. Just walk because you CAN. Our dear readers who cannot walk will tell you so. å

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© en July/August 2012 Vol. 1 Number 1 is LLC. THAT magazine for women Copyright THAT magazine for women LLC. published2011 bimonthly. Unauthorized use THAT magazine for of women is published and/or duplication this material Unauthorized use permission and/or duplication and written from its of this material without express and written permission publishers is strictly prohibited. from its publishers is is strictly prohibited. THATTHATmag for women not responsible mag for women is not responsible for content for content that represents the individual that represents the individual opinions of writers. opinions of writers. Co-Founder, Marlene Lang. ISSN 2165-6568 ISSN 2165-6568


“COLLEGE MATERIAL?” A lesson in in re-labeling myself A lesson re-labeling myself. ByBy Stacey Stacey Burroughs Burroughs


I was a mediocre student in high school. My grades

The next semester was Abnormal Psychology with

I worked a series of jobs and finally sirens, and flashing lights went off in was a mediocre student in high screamed: boredom. I was socially my awkward andnot psychotic the same wickedly landed interesting instructor. The textan Addictions Counselor Trainee head. I was or even school. My grades screamed: boreI Iisolated. Nobody in my family wentmentally to college and I was book read into like a book of wisdom and truth position with graduation on to theme. horizon. unstable. stepping dom. was socially awkward and Scads of clients, mandated to treatthe arena my future.I Nothing had have slept isolated. Nobody in my me family to no one expected to went go. With grades like of mine, think I may with it. There was something ment by the courts, cycled through ever made more sense to me. Right college no one expected to go. howand would I go? How me could I go? And that didn’t different here, something I could not get enough of. the program. I was making a difference. there in that classroom in Campbell With grades like mine, how would I go? matter because I had no interest in going, anyway. We arrived at the chapter on addiction and there it I gradually realized that my pasHall, my career goals were formulated. How could I go? And that didn’t matI walked the graduation stage without career goals, was: bells, whistles,sion sirens, and flashing lights went for people with addictions was I researched career paths and learned ter because I had no interest in going, no prospects and no skills. I always had a job. There off in my head. I was not psychotic or even the menno coincidence. I connected about the Certified Addictions Counselor anyway. babysitting, the bake the flower tally my unstable. stepping intothat themy arena of my and found passion had credential and commenced quest toI wasdots Iwas walked the graduation stageshop and then without career goals, no prospects shop. The details of my first jobs andare no skills. I always had a job. mundane. There was babysitting, the bake shop I had one sleeping asset: I wantand then the flower shop. The dea difference. tailsed of to mymake first jobs are mundane. mayasset: haveI seen it. IMy hadfirst one boss sleeping wanted to make a difference. He was not a warm and fuzzy My seenrapport. it. He guy;first weboss hadmay no have special was not a warm and fuzzy guy; we He was taking courses for his had no special rapport. He was takstarted cajoling ing MBA coursesand for his MBA and startedme about takin cajoling me about taking classes, too. I blew off the idea. I was not collegecg It was an English Composition material. He persisted until and classes, too. I blew offI caved the idea. took my first class just to shut him up. I was not college material. He It was an English Composition class. persisted until I caved and took I was happily surprised that I did well; mylooked first class justto going to shut I even forward andhim up.lass.the I was happily Then surprised completing assignments. on to another English class – that went just that I did well; I even looked forfine,ward too. I to didn’t flunk or get kicked going and completing out because I wasn’t “college matethe assignments. Then on to anrial.” One class at a time, one semester – that too. I didn’t I devoured future. materiNothing hadgrown ever made more todad. me.He out of my life sense with my make a difference. at aother time, IEnglish got my class collegial feetwent wet. just fine, flunk orwas get Introduction kicked out because ma- I knew Right theretake in that classroom in Campbell my has been sober for over 20Hall, years. als“college on addiction. it would Then there to Psy- I wasn’t I graduated, earning a bachelor of years at to reach the point where goals I couldwere formulated. chology. The instructor was terial.” One class at a wickedly time, one semester a time, career I researched career science in Psychology in 2002. My earn that credential and I didn’t care. interesting and told the best stories. He I got my collegial feet wet. paths and learned about the Certified Addictions dad was there and he was sober. It I worked full-time and went to was a clinician-turned-administrator Then there was Introduction to Psychology. The inCounselor credential and commenced my quest to was an accomplishment that changed school part -time, year round for and adjunct faculty. I couldn’t wait to structor was wickedly interesting andseven toldyears. the best a difference. I devoured addiction. everythingmaterials that I everon believed about I learned make to speak in learn and demonstrate my knowledge. stories. He was a clinician-turned-administrator and I knew it would take years to reach the point myself. I found my passion. Iwhere found front of people and not feel queasy. And my life changed. that I was smart enough to make it An and internship on the inpatient psy- that credential The next faculty. semesterI was Abnormal adjunct couldn’t wait to learn demonI could earn and I didn’t care. through college and to make difchiatric unit confirmed my career Psychology with the same wickedly strate my knowledge. I worked full-time and went to school part -time,a year ference. I am college material. goals, and I began to live out my interesting instructor. The textbook round for seven years. I learned to speak in front of life changed. Another graduation is on the desire to make a difference. I worked readAnd likemy a book of wisdom and truth people and not feel queasy. horizon. I’m fulfilling the internwith patients who had every problem to me. I think I may have slept with it. ship requirement of the program and imaginable – psychosis, suicidality, There was something different here, preparing for graduation in Spring addiction, trauma, personality disorsomething I could not get enough of. • Fall 2012 7 2011. This time it’s a master’s degree ders. I loved going there. I was exWe arrived at the chapter on addic-

“I had one sleeping asset: I wanted to make a difference.”

a greater part is from clients. Every day

ng asset: I difference.”

An internship on the inpatient psychiatric unit confirmed my career goals, and I began to live out my desire to make a difference. I worked with patients who had every problem imaginable – psychosis, suicidality, addiction, trauma, personality disorders. I loved going there. I was exhausted and exhilarated when I left. I worked a series of jobs and finally landed an Addictions Counselor Trainee position with graduation on the horizon. Scads of clients, mandated to treatment by the courts, cycled through the program. I was making a difference. I gradually realized that my passion for people with addictions was no coincidence. I connected the dots and found that my passion had grown out of my life with my dad. He has been sober for over 20 years. I graduated, earning a bachelor of science in Psychology in 2002. My dad was there and he my was dad. sober.HeIt was an accomplishf my life with thatyears. changed everything that I ever ber for ment over 20 believed aboutof myself. I found my passion. earning a bachelor I found that I My was smart enough to make it sychology in 2002. through college re and he was sober. Itand to make a difference. I am college material. mplishment that changed Another graduation is on the horizon. I’m hat I ever believed about fulfilling the internship requirement of the nd my passion. I found program and preparing for graduation in mart enough to make it Spring 2011. This time it’s a master’s degree ege and to make a difin Mental Health Counseling. With its emm college material. phasis on health and not pathology, this prograduation the me well both personally and gram is hason suited fulfilling the internprofessionally. ment ofThe the program and academic experiwork and r graduation ences in I’veSpring had since graduating from me it’s York a master’s degree College have brought me to ealth Counseling. its place in my practice a completelyWith different of counseling. I’ve grown new layers of insight and compassion that I am so proud of. Some came from books and classes but a greater part is from clients. Every day they teach me patience and that there is nothing


Stacey on earth Burroughs that comparesistoan theoutpatient human spirit.psychot They showhealth me how very resilientShe andspecializes brave mental consultant. i people can be. They make me a better human addictions, at-risk youth and families and being. sues. Stacey is passionate about eliminatin I think my old boss is somewhere in Oklahoma. associated mental i Ithat plan is to commonly make 2011 the year that I with find him addiction. is a freelance writer and thank him She for believing in me, and see- who e ing, I did, that I was college material. andbefore exploring new spaces both far and ne Y Stacey Burroughs is an outpatient psychotherapist and mental health consultant. She specializes in trauma, addictions, at risk youth and families and women’s issues. Stacey is passionate about eliminating the stigma that is commonly associated with mental illness and addiction. She is a freelance writer who enjoys baking and exploring new spaces both far and near. • Fall 2012


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THAT’S SO “CHEERLEADER WHO LIKE, CAN’T LIKE, SAY SMART STUFF.” you Th ink tha t’s me an? Ho w do ? nds thi nk “th at’ s so gay ” sou Hu rtf ul. So , kno ck it off .

By Tiffany Nicole



touched down about four hours ago and I can’t get certain songs out of my head. Like every radio I have experienced in the nation, Atlanta’s stations play the same songs over and over again. Now Jeezy, Drake, Tyga, Wale, and Blue’s momma are in my head. Their words are blending together to make this new song—some new remix I have solely created. One repeated phrase, I do, plays randomly, almost constantly. Of course, my magnificent mind reaches into formerly inaccessible areas and begins to think about those two words, I do. People live to hear these two words on one special day. Yep, those words stop at that altar and linger for that one momentous day, and sometimes forget to make a connection to their intended context and audience. Did you know the divorce rate in 2009 was 50 percent? That means half of the people who married in 2009 will divorce. I’m baffled. What’s the point of committing to eternal love while limiting its length? But this post has little to do with marriage or divorce explicitly. These two words really got me thinking about to what I say “I do.” Follow me.

I’m speaking about deciding to commit to who you really are. I am super shy. Have always been. I’m not the one who enters a crowded room and mingles with everyone. It’s not that I lack in the conversational skills, but I’m shy. Initiate a conversation with me and I can go without breathing, yet I am content to do things and be by myself. Yes, I love being with others, but I’m content shopping alone, too. Why? Because one day I just decided to say I do to me. That inner voice has always been present no matter how much I tried to deny it. I’d dress it up to hide it because its sound was off-beat from others.


Imagine if we all married ourselves —not like Dennis rodman, which could be rather amusing. I’m speaking about deciding to commit to who you really are. Many of us would rather deny ourselves the luxury of meeting ourselves. I’m convinced the real you is much better than the fake somebody

JulyAugust 2012 • Fall 2012 •


I DO coNTiNued

else. Every time you assume the character of another you are branded as fake. In reality there’s only one of you; one Mike Jackson (as my handsome little cousin Allen affectionately calls him), one Whitney Houston, one James Brown, one Etta James, one Teddy P, one Heavy D, one Gerald Levert. No matter how many people may sound like these, there’s still just one. When we deny ourselves the power to be the person we were created to be, ultimately we lose. It sounds harsh, but ignoring important things can be harmful. The divorce rate? Honesty would have stopped you way before a proposal would have been planned. Stop saying I do to the wrong things. Sometimes you need to say I don’t and I won’t. å

Tiffany Nicole is a full-time educator who spends her days teaching English to high school students. In her free time she blogs incessantly at

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Gut Talk

Hearing what you forgot you know By Rose Mateo

WE KNOW. We think and rea-

son and try to make sense of our world and relationships and we often find we have made what seem like mistakes. And in the face of our blunders, we begin to ask, “Why didn’t I listen to my gut?” Our gut knew. It tried to warn us, to tell us what was good for us, but we had unlearned its knowing. When we were five we knew what our gut said and we didn’t doubt it. A bad person was simply bad and a good person was good. We knew who gave us the creeps and we trusted grownups who laughed hard from their bellies. Later we were told it was more complicated than that— and, of course, it is. But does that mean our gut was not telling us something true? “Gut intelligence” is often equated with intuition, a “mysterious” way of knowing usually attributed to women


We have learned to discount the gut’s incessant talk. It’s background noise to most of us. but not fully acknowledged even as existing, depending on who is talking. We wonder, are older women really more psychic than the rest of us? Do you need to wear a purple turban and gold hoop earrings to have intuition? And, hey, how did our mom — and grandma—always know when we were lying? Gut intelligence — or intuition— is a form of knowledge that registers through

the body as well as the mind and emotions. Ever told a lie and felt instantly queasy? That was your gut talking: “If you lie, you will lose the trust of those you lie to.” This is deep wisdom, but not the kind of stuff you can easily explain to Dr. Spock. It’s not always logical, but it’s not illogical. Gut talk is wider than logic. Our gut’s intelligence is not easily quantified. We cannot count it, measure • JulyAugust 2012 • Fall 2012


Here are some tips for your GUT TALK NOTEBOOK 1. Date your entries. This will be useful over time. 2. Be specific. Say as much as your gut is saying. Describe the situation, faces, circumstances that triggered your gut’s reaction.

it, weigh it or otherwise make it into a specimen. We just feel it. Scientific method would ask us not only to measure our gut’s voice but to make the experience of its speaking repeatable. Studies have attempted to prove the existence of intuition, by varied names. Lie detector tests are the most familiar example of measuring the gut’s voice. But in the day to day, we have learned to discount the gut’s incessant talk. It’s background noise to most of us. It becomes like those angels that you were told follow you around; you either believe or you don’t—and even if they are there, you have forgotten about them. Ah, then comes the day when the gut is screaming and we have to listen. Why not try to hear, before that happens? We can tune in to our intuition, with surprisingly little effort. Arm yourself. The tools? A notebook. You are going to write down those gut feelings. With dates. Simple stuff. November 12: We got a new coworker today and I immediately felt like I couldn’t trust him. He seemed like he would do anything necessary to get what he wanted. Like he might pretend to be my friend, even. We’ve all had responses like this to people. We have learned it is not nice to say this about a new co-worker because we have just met him. We need to give it a chance. And we do. We make friends and decide he is really pretty nice, and we forget that we had that strong


3. Be honest. The more clear and true you are to your gut’s voice, the more you will learn.

4. Review. Your gut’s talk will look and sound

different over time. Go back over your entries and listen again. You will be surprised at what you knew!

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GUT coNTiNued first reaction to him. We let down our gut guard. Eight months later, you learn that things you shared with him about your family life have been shared with your boss, and now your boss has questioned whether you are doing all right, in light of the “problems” you are having at home. You are stunned. You wonder where all this came from. Your work performance has been fine, you thought. How did you end up being doubted? Your gut broadcasts a reminder of last November. remember, you put it in writing? You felt something untrustworthy toward this person, you wrote it down, but you overrode your gut and now you are dealing with an absurd situation. Sound familiar? This is not to advocate mistrust of people —we all want to believe the best about others. But there is a time for reservation and we need to

When you write down those gut responses, you will have created your own data bank for future reference and analysis. relearn the trust we can have in what our gut knows. Get that notebook. Not used to writing things down? Don’t be nervous. You are not trying to convince the Academy of Sciences, only yourself. Don’t fret over your writing style, either. This is for your own use. When you write down those gut responses, you will have created your own data bank, for future reference and analysis. Try it and see what happens. å

Rose Mateo is a semi-retired journalist, a lifetime student of world religions and a poet. Her work has been published in varied news publications. Ms. Mateo lives a quiet life of reflection but has agreed to report for THATmag because of its focus on justice and encouraging women to grow as persons and citizens.

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16 • Fall 2012 • Fall 2012

Justice coNTiNued


o help them will take moral courage, asserts Alex Sum, founding director of Hope for Justice in Seattle. Moral courage from politicians, from citizens and from civic leaders. And Sum adds, “Sex buyers need the moral courage to say NO” to situations that make them participants in both slavery and rape. Seattle is setting an example of local action against sexual slavery, which Hope for Justice calls “the crisis of a lifetime.” In 2009 the city’s abolition community gathered itself under that name of “Seattle Against Slavery,” in an all-volunteer effort to address the global problem as it was manifesting locally. According to Mr. Sum, it became clear that part of the problem was a dearth of services for the vulnerable youths who were ending up in sexual slavery. The citizen abolitionists of Seattle found only ten shelters available and dedicated to these victims. “Sex trafficking victims get mixed in with other populations, with homeless and domestic abuse victims,” he explained. That is, if they find a place at all. “There is presently only one shelter here dedicated for youth prostitutes,” Sum said.

“Most people cannot look the other way once they know what is going on.” – Alex Sum, Founding Director, Hope for Justice.

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Seattle has long had a strong service provider community, he said, but the grass roots effort to help these very young slavery victims revealed holes in the net.

In 2011, the community decided to focus its energy on creating and supporting the services that trafficking slaves need. “It was a missing piece,” he said. Hope for Justice became the organization charged with building awareness and raising funds for services. Those services might include housing and restoration counseling once a victim is free from his or her situation. Alex Sum says he wants people to face the issue head-on. “Most people cannot look the other way once they know what is going on,” he said. Hope for Justice dares to ask, “Who is complicit?” in the global explosion of modern slavery, which includes an estimated 27 million victims, enslaved in diverse situations, nuanced and often hidden from the public – or even the sex-consumer’s – eye. Hope for Justice finds three categories of the complicit: the men buying sex, political and community leaders, and those who just look the other way. No one gets away, in their view. Men ages 18 to 25 are the target audience of a campaign that touts: “Buy Sex, Buy rape.” Sum explains that this group is the most likely to be considering “a purchase.” They usually don’t know, he explained, that young prostitution victims are, in the eyes of their oppressor, virtually disposable, with a 50 percent murder rate. Most buyers don’t realize, either, that the average age of sex slavery victim is 13. “They should feel a sense of shame, once they know the facts,” because, he says, “they are propagating violence.” • JulyAugust 2012 • Fall 2012

NUMBERS SPEAK Modern forms of slavery are nearly invisible for most of us. These stats demand our attention: w 27 million people are trapped in some form of slavery worldwide, NOW. w Human trafficking is a lucrative criminal industry, second only to drug trafficking and more profitable than weapons trafficking. w 1.8 million children are coerced into the sex trade each year worldwide.

RECOGNIZING THE SIGNS Pay attention if someone you encounter: w Is not free to come and go as he/she wishes. w Is under 18 and is providing commercial sex acts. w Is unpaid, paid very little, or paid only through tips. w Is not allowed breaks or suffers under unusual restrictions at work. w Owes a large debt and is unable to pay it off. w Was recruited through false promises concerning the nature and conditions of his/ her work.

w An estimated 100,000 children are being used in the sex trade in the United States in a given year. This means there are at least 100,000 child sex slaves here, NOW. Some estimates put the number as high as 300,000.

w Shows signs of physical and/or sexual abuse, physical restraint, confinement, or torture. w Has few or no personal possessions. w Is not in control of his/her own money or identification documents (ID or passport).

w About 800,000 people are trafficked internationally every year for coerced labor and forced prostitution. w Forms of “compelled service,” without smuggling people, may qualify as human trafficking.

w Is allowed or able to speak only through a third party. w Lacks of knowledge of his or her whereabouts and time/dates. w Has numerous inconsistencies in his/her story.

Sources: and and

Hope for Justice’s “Buy Sex, Buy rape” campaign places posters and videos in locations where young male “consumers” are likely to be looking to buy sex. Other culprits, says Sum, include, a site where many buyers go to find sex, and too often are purchasing sex with teens and coerced victims. “BackPage is owned by Village Voice, who make $20 million a year” from these ads. He notes that the week of the 2012 Superbowl there were 1,000 such sex ads in Indianapolis, up from the usual 200 a week. “We are going to fight this,” he insists. The work thus far has taken great dedication from people working together for the sake of the young victims. “This is not our day job,” he notes. “We’ve gained strength in numbers and in our voice.” Hope for Justice can, in fact, call for hope as it points to six anti-trafficking laws passed in the state of Washington since 2009 when the abolition community first came together to address the problem. The legislation means stiffer penalties for pimps and johns. It has provided funding for services for underage girls and other victims and has provided for the placement of informational posters at highway rest stops, giving a hotline numbers for victims to call.

These efforts leave one more culprit to be called out: you and me. Hope for Justice is rallying its public to action, says Sum. “It’s not just knowing what is right or wrong,” he insists. He asks citizens to join local organizations who are fighting to help the world’s 27 million unseen slaves. Every citizen needs moral courage. å Hope for Justice has partnered with the national organization Polaris Project, which offers a National Human Trafficking Resource Center (NHTRC) and hotline at: 1-888-3737-888

Rose Mateo is a semi-retired journalist, a lifetime student of world religions and a poet. Her work has been published in varied news publications. Ms. Mateo lives a quiet life of reflection but has agreed to report for THATmag because of its focus on justice and encouraging women to grow as persons and citizens.

JulyAugust 2012 • • Fall 2012

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Hunger is closer than you think. reach out to your local food bank for ways to do your part. Visit today. • JulyAugust 2012 • Fall 2012


Women inOrange We wander the hillsides

trying to live devoutly, eyeing the natural order of earth and river, pentagrams scratched cave floors. We look in on the shepherds as we hover over clarity of night, the tips of our ghost-like toes dipping into cold waters of their time.

We are tomorrow. But we will burn again, for threatening Fathers who surround us. Walking down from the mountains, we sang our way into bonfires, embers, and ash. The young women forget we obliterated ourselves in order to become something wild.

Barbara Buckman Strasko is the first Poet Laureate of Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, serving from 2008-2010. She is the 2009 River of Words Teacher of the Year and was named Poet in the Schools for Poetry Paths in Lancaster City. Her poems have appeared in: Best New Poets, Rhino, Nimrod, Brilliant Corners, Ninth Letter. Her chapter book On the Edge of a Delicate Day was published by Pudding House Press in 2008.

• Fall 2012 JulyAugust 2012 •

35 21

Sex Better


By Elva Winter

When a person says the word sex, its one harsh syllable stops the voice dead, as though bumping into a wall. In contrast the five syllables of the word sexuality have a lilt, the musical cadence of a song. When one speaks the word sexuality the voice seems eager to continue drawing out the hum of the final tee sound just to feel the pleasurable sensations. Feeling the tee vibrate as it emerges from between teeth and tongue, resounds in the larynx, and then strikes the human ear is orgasmic. Sex is sufficient. Sexuality is full of promise. Sex fits well enough as a descriptor of gender, as a way to label our embodied selves in a biological way as female, male, or some mix of both. But sexuality is a better word to describe the endowment we have, the potential to experience our embodied selves in the world. Still better is the term human sexuality because it indicates our ability to express our endowment … body-tobody … in human ways. It is in our action – in acting toward, in acting with – that we make our endowed potential real.

the display of women and men with “perfect” physical attributes that perhaps will be ours when we purchase the pitched product – a car, clothes, cream, a beverage or even medicine. Sex is commercial bait that implies we can become winning competitors in the pursuit of happiness. We rarely stop to think about with whom we’re competing, probably because at a deep level we know it is with friends, family, neighbors, co-workers … with nearly every woman and every man in our purview. If we analyzed when and where we’re competing we’d realize that the contest is consuming our attention. Constant competing keeps us on edge, nervous about what we are or aren’t, and anxious about whether we’ll win or lose. We’re rarely sure of our own identity because we know we’re not measuring up to the idealized portrait.

Aren’t we smarter than this? True beauty of sexual expression is devoid of the questionable ideas we’ve internalized: that acquiring things, competing, and winning will gain us happiness. Beauty of sexual expression is free of messages that try to link sexuality with acquisition, competition, and happiness by using the word sex – that short word that stops us dead in our tracks when we speak it. Sex – that little word that seems sufficient to describe gender – is thrust upon us daily, nearly everywhere. It barges in, mid-thought, preventing us from questioning

22 • Fall 2012

“Sex is sufficient. Sexuality is full of promise.”

Aren’t we smarter than this? Sex as bait programs our thinking processes to register sensation. The bait hooks our innate sensory faculties of seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, and touching, all of which we use in sexual expression. In less than a minute we can be baited with a scene of a partly nude woman, the sound of romantic music, a scent of musk, and a glance of someone touching skin. At the same time we can be assured that drinking a particular beverage will put us in the hip crowd. The problem is that our senses are wide open, like the mouth of a hungry fish, eager to be fed, alert to receive information. Sex-bait directs us toward experiencing sensations as pleasurable, if only in a fantasy way. Sex-bait diverts our attention away from reasoning, away from realizing that we are being hooked by fiction. We latch onto the sex-baited idea that forming ourselves to fit into society’s photo shop will keep us competitive. We diet to shrink ourselves. We dress to look undressed, or to display outlines of breasts, chests, genitals, and muscles. We latch on hoping our snapshot will gain us a necessary edge, that it will win us happiness. We fail to think clearly about what is going on or to realize we’re being duped. We also don’t register what else is happening: In trying to compete in the parade of bodies, we make ourselves into sex objects. We form ourselves into commodities that deliver to others the same diminished idea of sexuality that has been sold to us. We fragment our own sexuality potential by expressing only what swallowing sex-bait produces in us: superficiality and pretty people pictures.

Sold: Your Sexuality When we hawk the same ideas we have been sold we become pared down human beings. Something insidious happens when we swallow the bait: We join the force that is selling us a tiny bit (sex) of what was already ours to begin with (sexuality). We try to inject ordinary inanimate objects with sexual power, mirroring that baited shadow of sexuality – sex – that has been cast at us. For example, we speak of sexy clothes, sexy purses, sexy ideas, sexy food.

Those items, of course, are not sexual. When anything and everything is called sexy … then nothing really is. Our real sexuality becomes cheapened. Such is the situation in which we live – each day we hear young and old link the word sexy with inanimate objects. Certainly those objects are of concrete or abstract material. But they’re not infused with sexuality. They are empty of the ability to be sexy. Attempts to inject sexual power into empty, inanimate objects symbolize the emptiness present when we live striving to acquire, to compete, and to win. Living in alignment with a lie that misleads and seduces us with that short word sex, and plays with us for its own purposes of acquisition, competition, and winning, does not inform and nurture us toward becoming full human beings. Such living is empty of care, is empty of human fullness. It is not real.

“Shall I Kiss You?” The truest expression of human sexuality I ever witnessed – the most real – took place when I was in my mid-forties. My patient, Ed, 39, was dying of cancer. Ed, his wife, his wife’s sister, and I were visiting in the family living room early one evening. Ed’s three sons, ages 6, 8 and 10, whom I had just met that evening, moved in and out of the room. From time to time the boys went off to play and then returned to listen to us adults talk and to partake in the visit. The boys’ mother announced bedtime for the younger two boys. She asked them to say goodnight to everyone before heading upstairs with her. The boys followed her direction. They accompanied goodnight words to their father and aunt with a kiss and a hug. Then six-year-old Matthew stopped in front of me. “Goodnight,” he said. He fixed his gaze on my face, hesitated, and then added, “Shall I kiss you, too?” I answered, “You may if you want to, but you don’t have to.” Matthew moved away and started to leave the room. At the doorway to the hall he turned around, bolted back, stood squarely in front of me, and pronounced, “I just have to.” He kissed me. And he threw his arms around my neck and hugged me, as well — tightly. Then, just as quick- • Fall 2012


ly, he was gone. Matthew just had to kiss me. He had to express with body his comprehension of something that was happening in the room where his father lay dying, and the grown-ups around him were grieving together, being tender with each other, laughing sometimes, and sometimes, being silent. Matthew was only six years old but he was a sexual being and was a part of the evening’s events. Because he grasped its significance, before he took his leave, he needed to touch his body with everyone else who was a part of that deeply human, even holy, time. Compelled to express the humanity of his sexual being he needed to touch, and to give something … he just had to kiss me. And he gave his whole self, all six years of it, to me in that moment, in that kiss and in that hug.

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Velveteen Rabbit, Sexy?


Becoming real is what human sexuality is Ahora en Español 18+ about. Many of us remember from childhood the story of “The Velveteen Rabbit,” in which and hearts, once we express our sexuality along with carthe Skin Horse said to the Velveteen Rabbit, ing, then we cannot be ugly, except to people who don’t “Real isn’t how you are made. It’s a thing that happens to understand. In becoming real, the qualities of our full you.” Human sexuality is like that: It happens to you, and humanity expand within us like a galaxy of stars. Selfyou happen within it. It happens to us, and we happen knowledge, rational judgment, respect for people and within it. place, tolerance, a sense of wonder, open-mindedness, The Skin Horse told the Velveteen Rabbit, “When a child appreciation of what is and of what may be possible, huloves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but mor, sensitivity, humility, compassion – burst to life withreally loves you, then you become real.” In a similar way, in us. They are qualities of real. as adults, when others don’t just play with us but, instead, None of those qualities is ugly. And when we express our really care about us in loving ways, we become real. Our sexuality by incorporating those human qualities, a beausexual potential is actualized into fuller human expresty emerges around us, a grace that others experience in sion. We become real as we cease treating each other as our presence, whether we’re fully dressed or undressed. mechanical toys, cease competing and actually care. The Skin Horse instructed the Velveteen Rabbit that beElva Winter, Ph.D., is a board certified psychiatric clinicoming real takes a long time, that it sometimes hurts, cal nurse specialist and certified sexuality therapist. As a that one can get pretty shabby and worn on the way to college professor she taught human development, human real. “But these things don’t matter at all,” the horse consexuality, and psychiatric nursing. Presently she is explortinued, “because once you are real you can’t be ugly, ing the healing value of poetry. except to people who don’t understand.” And so it is with human sexuality. Once the realization of who we are as sexual persons takes hold in our minds

24 • Fall 2012



momto B y Ilie Ruby

A FAte-stArter tAkes the AccelerAted course


hen people ask how my life has changed since adopting three children from Ethiopia two years ago, I tell them it has changed in every way. Now in my 40s, with a 3-, 5-, and 10-year-old, I am enrolled in Motherhood 101: the accelerated course. While most of my friends are looking at an empty nest, I am cultivating motherhood. Mastering three developmental stages simultaneously is rife with moments of epiphany, fierce doubt, hard knocks, and waves of revelation. But catch a glimpse of me when my 3-year-old wakes from her nap, crawls into my lap, and coos, “I missed you all day, Mamma.” I become a puddle in her tiny hands. My late-blooming life has blossomed in ways I never saw coming. Motherhood has forced me to become young. Most days, I move through life with a child hanging off my hip, a lollipop stuck in my hair, and a bevy of children’s doctor’s appointments to get to on time. No longer defined by my breezy white

9 26

• Fall • •MayJune 2012 2012 August 2012

• August •2012 MayJune 2012 • Fall 2012

10 27

Ilie Ruby was a teacher in Africa before she adopted three Ethiopian children.

sundresses, my all-night writing stints, and my pocket purse, in my 40s, I have learned how to do a handstand, how to cook Ethiopian food, how to canoe three children against a river’s current like it’s nobody’s business, and how to put together the puzzles of a life despite its missing pieces. I have learned that self-care takes hard work, that my child’s behavior is a better reflection of me than my mirror, and there’s no grander feeling than catching my eldest hugging my toddler and saying, “You are perfect and beautiful exactly how you are.” I have learned that if I sing it, I can get my children to agree to almost anything. Some other things I’ve learned? How to make cornrow braids, to kiss away boo boos, to unmask night terrors, and how many songs it takes to sing a toddler to sleep. I have learned that a trip to the grocery store is as exciting as Disneyland to children who are far too familiar with the feeling of hunger. Ilie Ruby at home with her children.

I have learned things that they don’t tell you in Motherhood 101. I have learned how to let a child grieve her past while firmly holding onto her future, and why it is vital to sleep outside an adopted child’s bedroom for the first six months. I have learned that sometimes a 90-pound child needs to be rocked to sleep as if she were a newborn, that a two-year old only looks you in the eye when she’s ready, and that the waves of bliss that ripple through the universe the first time a four-year-old calls you ‘mom’ are a bit like falling in love. I now understand the wisdom of buying clothing two sizes too big, and the myriad techniques used to make miracles out of sand, water, and bubbles. Most importantly, I have learned that I can make mistakes and be OK. And that somehow, for reasons that baffle me still, so will my children. I have learned to be grateful when friends let me gush about my children because it doesn’t have everything to do with me —genetically, at least. Something else I’ve learned? That children are like unknown flowers, unfolding at their own pace; that love is, indeed, a thing that grows; that you can never predict how fearlessly you can love someone and how little (or how much) time that can take. I have learned that as hard as you pray for things to happen they will happen when you are not praying. Mostly I have learned that it takes longer for some people, for reasons they may never know. And that sometimes, if you are exceptionally patient and lucky, it will happen all at once. å Ilie Ruby is the author of The Language of Trees (Avon HarperCollins August 2010), a story of healing, second chances, and how far we will go to protect the ones we love. She is a contributor to The New York Times Motherlode and the founder of The Great Women Series. Ruby is an advocate of older child adoptions and a supporter of Ethiopia Reads. She lives near Boston and is at work on her second novel.

11 28 • MayJune 2012 • Fall 2012

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Woman I’m every

Trading the Voice of Self-Doubt for Self-Confidence By Meghan D. Lemery, LCSW-R

The summer after I finished graduate school, I attended five weddings. I was asked to be a bridesmaid in each wedding and that summer I perfected the art of the toast. I put my brand new counseling skills to use to deal with highly emotional brides and the major family dysfunction that only seems to rear its head for weddings. At that time, it was a pleasure to watch my best gal pals fall in love and take the plunge. Having been the baby among four sibling, and having two sisters who married early with families started, I made the choice to plunge into building a career that I was passionate about. Then, I turned thirty. As I stood at the alter for my one-hundredth wedding – I felt certain Willard Scott would acknowledge this momentous event by putting my picture in the Smucker’s Jar – I begin to cry. To be clear here: these were NOT tears of joy. As I fidgeted in my uncomfortable heels and felt the bobby pins poke at my “up do,” I begin to panic. I was certain I would hyperventilate during Ava Maria and ruin my friend’s shining moment. My mind begin racing with the nagging voice of selfdoubt. “What’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you married? Maybe if you were as committed to finding love as you were to your career, you wouldn’t have to do the chicken dance alone.” That night as the overly enthusiastic DJ announced it was time for all the single gals to line up and catch the bouquet, I bee-lined for the bathroom. You have never seen a woman in spiked dyeables and peach chiffon sprint like this. Just as my cold clammy hand hit the door, I heard the DJ call my name, “Where’s Meghan? Meghan, WHERE ARE YOU GIRL? THIS COULD BE YOUR LUCKY MOMENT. … GET OUT

30 • Fall 2012

HERE.” As I tried to dive under a stall, my friend – who I no longer speak to because of this night – grabbed my hand and pulled me onto the dance floor. The two girls and I stood together, a trio bonded together by circumstance, not choice, scarred and bruised as we awaited our fate. My mouth went dry and I was certain I would hurl my bacon-wrapped scallops everywhere. Thankfully, another bridesmaid covered in lace and bows caught the bouquet and was inappropriately groped by a groomsmen. That fateful night began an anxiety-filled year of doubting myself. I felt certain I had a neon sign on my head that blinked these words: “ATTENTION WORLD! Meghan is 30, NOT married, NO babies and doesn’t even have a boyfriend! Let’s give it up for the LOSAHHH of the YEAR.” It was really tough year. But that year passed and something began to change. My friends who were now married for 5 or 10 years

and raising our future leaders, begin to take a very keen interest in my life. Overnight it seemed that all of my married friends begin to live vicariously through me. I couldn’t go on a date without having to de-brief every detail of the evening. Many of my friends starting asking me about my career path and wishing they had taken the time to pursue their passion before committing to marriage. I soon began to realize that no matter where we are on the path But that year passed and something t choice, rearing, career building, or juggling began tochild change. My friends who had waited our – married, all three – and whether we are single, divorced, or now been married for five or ten years, I was raising our leaders, began to the same voice widowed, we future all occasionally hear take a very keen interest in my life. of self-doubt. Overnight it seemed that all of my maris the voice that towhispers to you in your most ng, I Thisried friends wanted live vicariously “Yougoscrewed through moment. me. I couldn’t on a dateup, you’re late, it’s e this vulnerable without to de-brief every detail never goinghaving to happen, there’s something wrong with the evening. Many starting asking n the you.”ofThis voice accuses us day in, day out, telling us me about my career path and wishing that they we have to work harder emotionally, physically had taken the time to pursue their and passion spiritually to committing accomplish This voice before to perfection. marriage.

n-wrapped ully, anace and

I began to see that no matter where we are on the path – married, child rearing, career building, or juggling all three – and whether we are single,

is exhausting! Then I asked, what if my friends and I, as a group of gal pals, made a decision to halt the voice of selfdoubt? What if, instead of doubt, we executed faith and made the declaration: “Whatever path I chose, I chose it because I believed in it at the time.” The great thing about a path is that at any moment you can change it. You have the option to choose to continue to walk the path you are on or do a U-turn to the last place you felt confident on your path. You may even take a different path altogether, or merge onto a wider path – probably with a H.O.V. lane. take a deep breath, give ourse Then I asked, what if my friends and The voice of self-confidence dishes each out other encouragea hug and decide w I, as a group of women friends, made ment. It’s that,the“You girl” voice. No where tionmatter we need to take to achiev a decision to halt voicego, of selfWe can each other tha doubt? Whaton if, the instead of doubting, wepromise we are path, we could notremind to kick exact executed faith ourselves, or each other, in the shins for “bad” choicwe sh and made the es. When we doubt where we are, or regret the past, be; n declaration: “I began to see that no we canpath stop it. not e “Whatever matter we areracing on right I chose, I chose Instead of being riddled withwhere an anxious heart, Las it because I mind and exhausted we–could choose child to take thebody, path married, broth believed in it a deep breath, give ourselves and each other a hug marr at the time.” rearing, career building, or decide woul Theand great thing what direction we need to take to achieve juggling all three all I hav about a path is can remind peace. We each other that we … are we exactly my 1 thatwhere at any we mo-should be; not late, not early, but right on occasionally hear the same wedd ment you can time. can n change it. You voice of self-doubt.” Last May my brother got married. This would be, Ava M have options. by he Youand can Iconhave counted, my one thousand and twentytinue to walk the pathI you on or do Ava quote fifth wedding. canare now sing MariaI Corinthians by heart 13. “Love tient, love is kind. …” In the p a U-turn to the last place you felt conand quote I Corinthians 13: “Love is patient, love is would have worked myself up fident. You may even take a new path kind…”orYadda, yadda, yadda. past, I would panic thinking of another wee altogether, merge onto a wider path. In the in self-doubt Thehave voiceworked of self-confidence myself updishes into out a panicwallow thinking of an- and anxi a biganxiety ticking clock. encouragement. It’s that, “Youingo, girl” other weekend wallow self-doubt and with Guess Wh sat in the warm sunshine and voice. No matter where we are on the a big ticking clock. Guess What? As I sat in the warm at the beautiful blue sky to wi path, we women could promise not to stared at in thethebeautiful blue sky witbrother andtohis stunning brid kicksunshine ourselves,and or each other, shins vows, didn’t hear the voice o for ness “bad” my choices. Whenand we doubt where brother his stunning bride I exchange doubtatatall. all. RathRather, I heard th we vows, are, or Iregret past,the wevoice can stop it. didn’tthehear of self-doubt of self-confidence that whispe Instead of being riddled with an er, I heard the voice of self-confidence that whispere, are exactly where you need to anxious heart, racing mind and “You are exactly where you to need to be.” Y exhausted body, we could choose

Meghan Lemery is a psychotherapist practicing in Saratoga Meghan Lemery, LCSW-R, is a psychotherapist a Springs and Queensbury, NY. columnist in upstate New York. She awaits publ She can be reached with comtion of her first novel, Please Pass the Barbie Sh ments and topics of interest at • Fall 2012


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