I love things that make you think twice,Independent Coffee Shops, and being a piece of the global community. I have a strange affinity for Latin American culture, Nicaragua in particular. My day feels oddly unbalanced if it does not start with a downward facing dog. I have developed a newly found appreciation for punk shows and deeply enjoy the hidden sense of community among what I have experienced to be an amazing group of down-to-earth individuals. I enjoy the stride and sound of an authoritative click originating from 3+ inch heels. I think insight can be gained by thinking about any discipline philosophically. I am overwhelmed by the vast array of knowledge and wisdom I am engulfed in and disappointed I humanly cannot obtain it all. Though I remain enlightened and empowered by the realization of my own personal limitations. At any point I am up for a conversation entering the wee hours of the morning talking about the trials and tribulations of the globe or anything else under the sun. I tell people how it is because the world is already full of illusions. I still however remain baffled at my inability to remember the longitude and latitude of my keys, phone, or wallet at any point in time. Graciously open to new instruments including the most sacred sounds echoing from the human body, to the violin, or the Djembe despite my atrocious lack of rhythm. I do a hauntingly accurate impression of my 75-year-old off the boat Italian grandmother and enjoy authentic Italian cooking to raw fish wrapped in seaweed. The list goes on as I'm sure it does for most, but lastly I truly appreciate the uniqueness of each individual while seeing no matter how seemingly different we all are, we are all connected.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Retreating slowly with overwhelming feelings of defeat through the chilly crisp November air a frail and exhausted mother continues down a menacing volatile New York City block lugging her feeble son and vast array of infant paraphernalia to the abhorrent quarters of the Martinique hotel. Walking briskly by a group of homeless huddled around a trash can seeking solace from the piercing icy air, all the while being panhandled aggressively, approached by a persistent drug dealer, and given a threatening once over by an unkempt streetwalker the mother lets out a sigh of relief as she reaches the hallway of her hotel fumbling for her keys among her material and mental disarray. Keeping a watchful eye and tight grip over her belongings fearful of becoming victim to yet another routine robbery the door finally gives and she scrambles into the meagerly inadequate hotel room overcome with a stench of rodent urine permeating the miniature space. Utterly drained from a jam-packed day of being shuffled around to various offices filling out copious piles of paperwork in hopes that she could solidify a living space of livelihood and human dignity for her and her sickly newborn baby boy, she plopped down on the rigidly uncomfortable worn mattress. After barely a moment of duration the mother is perplexed by the docile quiver of her newborn son, feeling paralyzed by her sons cries she tends to his whimpers with the warmth of a mothers embrace. Though the baby's cries temporarily subdued the mother remains perturbed as her mind races in a desperate attempt to brainstorm a way to aid the pangs of hunger overtaking her son. A sentence no human being would wish upon even their worst of enemies remains routine to a mother named Holly a resident of the Martinique Hotel in New York City. A scene as demoralizing, futile, and grim as the latter should not be a banal exhibition of human suffering characteristic of the fastest growing segment of the homeless population. What does the tolerance of such reprehensible abject poverty pervading a nation of affluence convey about our society? What does our silence disclose about the shift in our nations philosophy, a nation previously created through principles of freedom and liberty? Is America's lack of compassion our dirty little secret? With a social problem evolving into such a widespread issue plaguing such a prosperous nation it leads citizens to become skeptical of a societal structure that perpetuates such a morose reality. 

This week Social Justice League's 4th Annual Tent City is ongoing at Bridgewater State University, they are accepting donations please stop by around Bridgewater's campus behind the Rondileau Campus Center to support a homelessness simulation in solidarity with the above described grave predicament. Read about the initiative with the following link!

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