Category Archives: Reading and Writing

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

Devil or Angel

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I usually tell people that I am an open book. I share everything or so it seems. I don’t know if my friends would tell you I am the same person in their lives that I am online. They might say they know me well. But do they? How much do we share with the people close to us? Is there a dark side to us we keep hidden from them? Is our online persona different if someone is a charismatic leader, trying to lead us to his or her persuasion, than they are in private? Do some people exude sweetness and niceness for their fans while those that know them personally could tell you that is not who they are?

I might come off as this confident person who has it all together. My friends know better. They know I am easily hurt, not confident in some of what I do, and crabby some of the time. Only a few friends know I have hidden much of who I am in my life because of the some of the conservative settings I grew up in, especially as a woman. I didn’t balk (much) when the men got fed first at the table. I seethed inside at some of the restrictions at church that I thought didn’t matter, such as no pink cakes at funerals or the perfect lining up of the silverware in the drawers because we were bullied by the kitchen committee many years ago. It seems petty but it was the small things that set me off at church and made me want to not darken the door. Ok, I can’t say I was always quiet about those small things or the big things either and I felt the judgment.

I was a frustrated housewife trying to keep up and decorate my house in a way that was acceptable in society the first thirty years of my married life, and when I began to be weird in my decorating sense that made me happy, I was ridiculed. So I hid the wildness inside of me for a long time because I had to be a responsible person so I garnered acceptance. That may sound strange. This was before the internet.

We become a chameleon changing our face to the public depending on what is acceptable. Should we do that? We are arguing big time about morals and politics right now. I don’t recognize some of my friends and they don’t recognize me. Before I wouldn’t have challenged their beliefs. I wouldn’t have known if they have hate in their heart for another race or religion. Maybe that is why they are surprised at my advocacy and I am surprised by their views. We kept hidden in many instances who we truly are out of what? Fear? Worry about losing a friend? Or worrying our views would be judged? Also to keep the peace. Were we fooling anyone? Did they know who we were but didn’t say anything because as long as we didn’t openly do it in front of them, it was that silent elephant in the room and our lives could continue.

I once knew someone who was the outstanding church worker. You never heard a word of bad language come out of their mouth when they were working in the church. They treated people well and with respect. The minute they left the church they were a different person with one the foulest mouths I knew. The also liked their drink. The language offended many people but it was never used in church. I never understood that. I am not judging, and I liked this person, but it was my puzzlement that made me want to ask why they used different language in church than in public. We all knew. It wasn’t a secret. It was well talked about. Did this person think God just lived in the church and didn’t hear them outside of the church? Or did they change who they were for that short time in church so they wouldn’t be ostracized. Should our church have been a place where this person didn’t need to change who they were when they walked through the door? And then begs the thought, if this person could hold the language when inside a church, why couldn’t they hold the bad language outside the church? Who did this person want us to see or want to be? Do we not accept all of our foibles and is that why we pretend to the world?

A long time friend brought up the subject of someone they had known for years, grown up with, spent their childhood with. My friend married someone of a different race in the early 70s. Her old childhood friend visited their home, sat a their table for years with both of them and their children. Then the internet arrived. Racism ruled it’s ugly head on social media posts and this longtime friend of my friend, started posting horrible, racist posts. I knew this person too and I was shocked as I had known them a long time too. My friend said to me, “They sat at my table with my family, shared meals. I had no idea they hated people of other races until now. What do I do with this? Who are they? I never knew when they sat at my table they were pretending.”

Who are we? Who and what do we let people see and why? It seems the advent of social media has given us all permission to be who we really are because we aren’t standing across from that person. If we were would we spew the same thing? I am just as guilty as anyone else of hiding behind the distance of social media posts.

I’m working on being more authentic. I don’t want to hurt people, but I’m finding that all that has been kept hidden from us by our friends, and all we have hidden, challenges that authenticity. I have heard the phrase, we have to agree to disagree. The problem I have with that is that if I agree to disagree I am compromising my values and who I am to the core of what I believe, and I now realize I have done that much of my adult life. When someone has made fun of someone, instead of standing up for them because I believe it was wrong, I laughed too, while inside I was cringing. I wanted to belong. When I saw someone that needed a friend but they weren’t acceptable because of how they behaved, I stayed away too so I wouldn’t become unacceptable in the crowd. When my kids wanted to hang with someone whose reputation was a little shady, I put my foot down and judged instead of accepting them into my family and finding out who they really were inside, and why their behavior deemed them unacceptable to the people in the community. All of that was wrong and though I wanted to, I did not speak up. I was too afraid of being left out in the cold by others.

I have stepped away these past few weeks from people that I have known forever, stepped away for a time is the action, for a time. I had to remove myself so I don’t bring out the inner devil that sits inside of me wanting to scream at our difference of opinion. I can’t agree to disagree but I can disengage myself from them because our views are so different. Step back and take a break. I suspect I am blocked too by many of my friends because of my views.

I don’t want to become that person again that laughs at a cruelty instead of speaking up. I can be cruel with my words, as I suspect most of us have that hidden devil inside. I am working on accepting my friends as they are, but if I feel that devil rising I know that I need to take a break, distance myself. I need a break from them and they need a break from me. That is a compromise I can do to keep peace even when I don’t feel peaceful. I don’t think there are any totally authentic people. But we can work on figuring out what we show to the world and is it true to who we are?

Murder On The Red River by Marcie R. Rendon

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Review: Murder On The Red River by Marcie R. Rendon

About: Introducing Cash Blackbear, a young Ojibwe woman whose visions and grit help solve a brutal murder in this award-winning debut.

1970s, Red River Valley between North Dakota and Minnesota: Renee “Cash” Blackbear is 19 years old and tough as nails. She lives in Fargo, North Dakota, where she drives truck for local farmers, drinks beer, plays pool, and helps solve criminal investigations through the power of her visions. She has one friend, Sheriff Wheaton, her guardian, who helped her out of the broken foster care system.

One Saturday morning, Sheriff Wheaton is called to investigate a pile of rags in a field and finds the body of an Indian man. When Cash dreams about the dead man’s weathered house on the Red Lake Reservation, she knows that’s the place to start looking for answers. Together, Cash and Wheaton work to solve a murder that stretches across cultures in a rural community traumatized by racism, genocide, and oppression.

About The Author:

Marcie R. Rendon, citizen of the White Earth Nation, is one of O: The Oprah Magazine’s 31 Native American Authors to Read Right Now and a McKnight Distinguished Artist Award winner. Where They Last Saw Her, Penquin/Random, May 2024. Her debut novel, Murder on the Red River received the Pinckley Women’s Debut Crime Novel Award and was a finalist for the Western Writers of America Spur Award, Contemporary Novel category; and her second novel, Girl Gone Missing, was nominated for the Putnam’s Sons Sue Grafton Memorial Award. Her script, Say Their Names, will be produced by Out of Hand Theater, Atlanta, GA. And her script, Sweet Revenge, had a staged reading at the Playwright Center, Mpls., MN. The creative mind of Raving Native Theater, she curated TwinCities Public Television’s Art Is…CreativeNativeResilience. Diego Vazquez and Rendon received the Loft’s Spoken Word Immersion Fellowship for work with incarcerated women.

Marcie Rendon W.ebsite

My Review:
I can’t believe as a Minnesota writer I took this long to read a book by Minnesota author, Marcie R. Rendon. It definitely will not be my last. In fact, I have the next one in this series ordered.

From start to finish it was a mystery that held my attention, but also educated me about Indigenous Americans and the struggle they face with intolerance and bigotry still today.

Cash Blackbear is a strong character and her quest for her identity after being raised in foster homes speaks to a system that has failed young children on the reservation. This is a mystery that keeps us enthralled, teaches, and touches the heart of a reader making us all want to do better in recognizing the fact indigenous woman are at risk for violence and death. Marcie Rendon’s writing keeps that fact in the forefront along with giving us a can’t put down mystery, so we can work harder to find a solution.