Category Archives: Life’s Lessons

A Little Touch

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Controversy! No matter which way we turn, something new is thrown at us, and we move on without processing and solving yesterday’s news.

The Epstein Files. Having a few days of downtime with the sniffles I had time to process why I am so angry at those I know who don’t think it’s a big deal, don’t want to face it, or totally don’t believe anyone can do what is being described to another human being.

I am angry because of feelings I’ve pushed aside for much of my life. Things that happened early in my working life. No, I wasn’t raped or abused, but… I was sexually harassed, and at that time we didn’t have a name for it. Boys will be boys, or men will be men. We knew which salesman not to get into a room with at one workplace. We knew who was going to be touchy-feely. We might offer a rebuke, but it made no difference. If we had reported it, we would have been laughed at. Plus everyone knew, and the owner was just as guilty as some of his male employees, so it wasn’t addressed.

In the early days, sexual harassment didn’t just happen at the one workplace; there were others. We women kept quiet, it was discussed only between ourselves. The harassment wasn’t just bosses and co-workers; it was customers too. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence, yet it happened frequently. Today the talk is about setting up your boundaries, but in a man’s world, as it was back then, the only boundaries that were followed were to not get caught with a male colleague who we knew was sketchy.

Fast forward many years to when I was a computer technician. I had a great boss, no improprieties there with him. In all the years I worked on computers, I only found two computers with pornography on them. But I did nothing because privacy was key and I didn’t want to lose my job. Plus, back in those days, again, nothing would have been done had we reported it to the police. One offender was a man who didn’t surprise me. He exuded the personality when he walked in the door, not in his treatment of me, but in his stories that seemed at the time to be conspiracy theories. The other surprised me as he was a respected member of the community. They are both now dead, and it would serve no purpose to out them, and perhaps that’s why I didn’t, because of their families. Yet, had this happened today, I would report it. We had a duty to our customers regarding privacy. But…in the process of removing viruses, I might have removed some files. Viruses are amazing at wiping out files. However, I will always regret in my heart when I think back that I dismissed this as normal boys will be boys. That makes me part of the problem, which may be why it is still happening today, we all did that in those days.

When younger women in this decade complained about sexual harassment, at first my reaction was, deal with it, we did. I was wrong to believe that. A mindset such as that got us to the mess we are in today. I can’t believe Congress, and certain followers of political parties are sweeping widespread abuse under the rug or not addressing it, and putting perpetrators in jail. We haven’t progressed. It appears we have regressed.

I wonder where we would be if all of us in the early years had been adamant about changing the way the world addressed sexual harassment of not only women, but men too. Would it have changed the world if we had stood up? Or would we still be here fifty years later fighting a system that protects those who abuse women, children, and even young boys? We still do not believe the victims. Because of it, victims remain silent out of fear of retribution. The world is in the midst of a sex ring scandal, and yet, people don’t believe it or they want to ignore it, because they can’t handle the gory details. I think the victims would have liked to miss out on those details of what was done with them too.

All the victims of the sex trafficking rings were once tiny babies in a womb. The same people that want abortion banned because it is murder, are supporting this administration because of their stance on abortion, nothing else seems to matter. Those babies grow up to be kids, women, men and don’t they deserve protection too? Trafficking victim may also be murdered. Protect that baby in the womb from the mother, but their life doesn’t matter if you don’t agree, or like who they become, or if the color of their skin is different, and they are abused or discriminated against?

Do we turn off the news so we can ignore and not hear what is happening so it doesn’t make it our problem. Do you not listen to the victims because it is too gruesome and you think it can’t possibly be happening?

The House of Representatives recently voted down a bill that would release information on sexual misconduct and harassment against members of Congress. This was not just voted down by Republicans but Democrats too. Again, are the people making the rules keeping it silent because they themselves have something to hide, not only our leader? How can we be okay with that?

In Tennessee, there was a bill in the legislature to bring the death penalty to a woman who has an abortion. Isn’t that murder too if you put them to death? They murder a baby in the womb, so you kill them? Thankfully, the bill failed. It was defeated in a subcommittee on March 10, 2026. Tell me the difference of defining murder. Does it make a difference who is deciding who should live? It’s seems to be accepted when the government does it, such as the murder of a leader of another country, or school kids with different color skin in another country.

When are we going to say enough? When are we going to put an end to the boys will be boys? When are we going to accept this is happening and believe the victims? When are we going to stop our children from being kidnapped, or sold into the sex trafficking business by powerful individuals? The word has to be ENOUGH. ENOUGH, to the double standard for those women and people of different nationality and gender. I fear the Epstein Files are just going to go down in history as a blip on the radar, because we will move on to the next headline in the news that requires our attention.

The average Joe gets sentenced to prison for lesser sex crimes than what is happening in the Epstein Files, and they should, but so should the powerful who created a worldwide ring that preys on children, women, and even boys. What makes the rich and powerful exempt from their actions, except perhaps fear, or they have something we want in their votes in Congress. ENOUGH. They are being protected by their peers, and by those that still refuse to believe the information revealed could be perpetrated by people who they have revered as leaders. I am confused about the reasoning, but I am not confused by the excuses, leaving these people go free. And if they do, it is on all of us who excuse their behavior and have excused sexual harassment behavior over the years.

We have to decide. We have to decide what we define as murder. A baby that has not been born? A leader, who we know is a danger to society that we don’t like, so we take him out? A woman that has an abortion but is sentenced to death? A citizen who stands up for the rights of others who gets murdered in the street by a sanctioned government security source? What is the difference? One is right, and the other is wrong? Killing an unborn baby is wrong, but murdering someone who admittedly is a horrible person, and we don’t like and agree with is right? Especially if there is no imminent threat to our lives.

Our men and women in uniform don’t have a choice on the battlefield. They have to protect themselves and those around them. They don’t have a choice when they are sent into a war. It is an act that lives with them forever. They do it for their country. They risk their lives by order of the government of the United States to keep us all free. Don’t we owe it to all of them to come home to a country where citizens have equal rights no matter their skin color, or gender? Don’t we owe it to them to provide mental health services and healthcare? Don’t we owe it to them to protect women and children from sexual predators or abuse, no matter the status of those predators in society? The choice is yours. Will we forget about the Epstein Files so that we will be here again, and again, and again? We can protect unborn babies and protect those children and teenagers, and adults. It doesn’t have to be one or the other. This isn’t political, it is moral. It isn’t a Democrat or Republican issue. It is an American issue. It is a moral issue. Until we can agree on that and say ENOUGH, and look at it fairly and rationally, nothing will be solved. We should have done it a long time ago and we are all complicit in the fact we didn’t

Sunday Musings On Monday

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My mind is wandering today. It is pieced. I’ve been working on the cover of my new book coming out soon. Visit my website JulieSeedorf.com if you want to know more. While I write, occasionally I think of other things, and thoughts of my week interrupted the creativity. The week was a mixture of happiness and sadness. Isn’t that what our life is about most of the time, only we don’t take the time to be thankful for the mixture. We want our life to be smooth sailing. No ripples to mix it up. That never happens. Why do we expect it?

I went to a funeral of a friend this week. I’ve known her for two years. She was sixty-years old, smart, funny, kind, loving and brave. She’s had cancer for as long as I’ve known her. I saw her at her lowest low, and her highest high when she experienced remission for a short time. Through it all she never complained, always lifting others up, and was a devoted mom and friend. If you met her you might have thought she had an easy life. I knew better as she shared life’s experiences with me, but at her funeral, listening to her daughter speak, I was surprised at the early hardships she didn’t share.

My friend, was a migrant, coming to this country when she was a child. She worked in the fields in Texas and California, starting when she was nine years old. They were twelve hours days, seven days a week. Her husband died in an accident when her children were small. There was no money and no life insurance, or help back then from Social Security, and she wouldn’t have qualified if there was until she became a citizen, which eventually she did. I suspect it wasn’t as hard to become a citizen back then as it is now. Life threw her and her children many hard knocks, yet she wasn’t bitter.

As I listened to her daughter speak, I thought back to the age I would have been when my friend was nine. I was twelve-years-old and hanging with my friends, going to concerts and leading a care-free life. At nine, her age, I was playing with Barbie dolls and very innocent about the world. I thought about my kids and what they were doing at that age and I counted my blessings, but yet I was appalled that we in the United States, back then, let child labor happen. Not only did I grieve my friend, but I grieved the way she had to navigate her childhood. I have been insulated in my life from what those of other cultures go through in my country, and in their home country. My friend’s family came here to give them a better life from violence and poverty. Would I have done the same with my children? I would like to say I would, but I don’t think I had the courage that my friend and her parents had to break through the barriers.

I never gave a thought to the people that drove up to Minnesota from Mexico and down south, that worked in our fields and in our canning factories. We needed them because there were not enough workers to fill the shifts. They became a part of our community for a few months, yet, they were not part of our community because they kept themselves separate from us. Probably because they would not be accepted, possibly out of fear of the unknown of another culture invading our space that we weren’t familiar with.

This is not a political post. It’s a post about that which we fear, the unknown of those that are different because we may not know someone of a different culture or…we may not know their history. We don’t take the time to listen and hear their past, and what is driving them to their future. I have been thrust out of my small town roots into a mix of different experiences and different cultures since I moved, and am learning more everyday about others and myself and the misconceptions I’ve had. Because I either didn’t know better, or didn’t take the time to go beyond my tiny little world except to judge that which I had no experience in. There is an enormous amount for me to still learn about the diversity of the world today.

I feel blessed to have known this woman and learn about her Mexican heritage. She was proud of her roots and made sure her children are too. We as her friends were given a small understanding of her rich culture, as she shared it with us with pride. Though she hadn’t much money, I would call her rich, and she felt that way because of where she came from. To her wealth was family, friends and faith. . A faith that never waivered during her journey. All of us are richer too because we knew her. Rest in peace. We will never forget your quiet lessons.

Disappearing Dining Rooms

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I read an article this morning that stated dining rooms were disappearing from American households. I wonder what that might say about family life today or get-togethers with friends.

I grew up in the 50s. A few of my friends’ homes had dining rooms, and others’ homes, including ours, had kitchen tables where we would dine with our family. At the time, dining rooms were reserved for special meals, or the occasion when guests visited for dinner. We sat down together, every night for the family meal by a table. It didn’t matter what was going on, especially if you were a kid, you were to be home for dinner, which in those days the night meal was called supper in the Midwest.

Usually, when meals were served in dining rooms, the dining experience was reserved for the special China and the good silverware. We had certain manners we had to use. I always loved the dining room experience as it made it a special meal.

I must admit I didn’t read the entire article. It could have been that people are transitioning to the big room experience and table. I suspect if I would have read it more in-depth than just a skim, the main focus would have been on family either having a leisurely dinner hour, or the fact many families do not sit down together for a meal anymore because they are too busy. Kids and parents grab their plates and sit separately at a counter, or in front of the television, or with a book or phone in their hands, ignoring the other people in the room. In my youth I tried to read books at the table. I never wanted to put down my book, but reading at meals wasn’t allowed. The same as hats at the table were not allowed. Fast food pickup today is popular with the working moms and dads and kids. The family can eat on the run separately while on the way to the many activities.

If I travel back through time and look at my pictures of the past, the photos over the years depict my family dining experience with family and friends. It was the heart at the meal. Every birthday is captured around the table. Every anniversary, birthday celebration, and the night meal are around a table. That was our time, coming together over a meal at night. Granted my kids would complain, they didn’t always like the food. Brussel Sprouts were not their favorite. One evening we had company and the adults sat at the table with the kids sitting at their own table because of space. We learned we should never let the kids out of our sight when there was a questionable vegetable. I found out later that one of my children put their creamed rutabagas in a napkin and snuck it into my friend’s purse so it only appeared that he ate them. Yes, at our table the kids had to try everything and eat what we served. There were no separate meals for the kids. We had a good laugh at that one. When my friend informed me weeks later of the mischief, I was upset. She laughed and said that was why she didn’t tell me sooner. My friend thought it was funny. She was a teacher who apparently had a sense of humor. The memory of the meal together stayed with us for many years. Now I have no one but the culprits to share the memory with and they aren’t talking. My friend has passed on, but he friendship and memory of that night by a forgiving friend is priceless.

As a family at the table, we shared our day, our fun things and our sad experiences. We laughed, we fought, we complained, but we were together. My kids learned manners and how to use the right utensils in case they were at a fine dining establishment. It was a time that I fear is long gone. There is something to be said about sitting around a table and talking for hours. And… teaching kids they do need to learn to sit and listen to adults and have patience. Yes, it can be done. Manners at a table, I believe reach out to the world in better learned behavior. Have you been in any restaurants with kids these days? Behavior hasn’t changed but the response of the parents has. Eating together also was an opportunity to assess if our kids were doing okay. Yes, sometimes we missed it. But family meals result in many funny stories to our grandchildren.

A few years ago, I was a guest at my son’s home. My grandson requested noodles for dinner. He then said to me, “Grandma, do you know what dad told me? He said if he didn’t eat what you made, he had to go to bed and he didn’t get any supper, and everyone had to eat the same thing. I told him you wouldn’t do that.” I laughed and informed him that it was indeed true. I don’t know if that was a teaching moment in my grandson’s life or a realization that perhaps his grandma wasn’t who he thought she was.

I’ll confess, I no longer have a dining room or a kitchen table in my apartment. It is too tiny a space. I had a table and chairs for the last year, but having guests was too cramped with the table. Have I given up on the sitting around the table experience? No. I am translating the table to tv trays, sitting them in a circle in front of my living room furniture so guests can sit and still have a table and group experience.

There is a reason the television show, Blue Bloods, dining scene is popular. They represent the families of the past, sharing bread and sharing their life, once a week. The Reagan family slows down and takes the time to learn about each other’s up and downs of the week, building a bridge one conversation at a time. Maybe we all want to experience that connection again.

We need those bridges of conversation at a dinner table more today than possibly in the history of our country. Families are fractured. Friendships survive on meeting in between our busy activities. We have a hard time turning off our phones and stepping away from the noise. We have sacrificed time with those that mean the most to us, for living in a world that offers us glamour, stress, and builds in us an idea that for our kids being busy keeps them out of trouble. We spend more time online with strangers than we do with those who share our lives in the flesh. How’s that working for us? Build that bridge. Break that bread at the table with family and friends. That’s the spice of life. We will all leave this earth one day. What will our life and the way we spend our time tell others about what we value?