Last Friday my iPhone was stolen. It was a real bummer. I have no idea who stole it, and there’s no way to find it at this point because I had to erase all of its data so all my personal stuff wouldn’t be compromised. At first I was just kind of shocked that it was gone, then I had hope that maybe it was just misplaced, or that it would turn up again soon– maybe I would find it’s hiding spot, or a good Samaritan would find it and bring it back to me. No such luck. And unfortunately I was foolish enough to decline insurance, and I’m 8 months into a 2 year contract, which means I have to buy a new phone at full price. Of course, I don’t have that kind of cash right now, which means i’m phone-less until my next paycheck– next Friday. So yeah, two weeks without a phone. Continue reading
Duhe Family Reunion 2015
This past weekend we spent a lot of time and money dealing with the little creatures that decided to hitch with us from Nola– meaning we had to basically bomb our apartment with chemicals to get rid of the beg bugs. It was the worst! And it definitely put a damper on an otherwise amazing family trip. I’m hoping we got all the little bastards, but we’ll be doing another treatment in a couple of weeks just to be doubly sure.
I know that there are many pagans out there who are all about not killing bugs, but I’m not one of those people. Not for bed bugs. Those suckers are truly awful, and excuse me, they are taking MY blood, which I need thank you very much.
The Duhe Family
Anyway, I promised I would share some of the pics from our super fun, amazing family reunion in New Orleans, and I aim to please. So! Two weeks ago Kourtney and I, along with my mother and grandmother and cousin, flew to New Orleans for our Duhé family reunion. I don’t carry the Duhé name, but I do carry their blood in my veins, from my mother’s side of the family. We trace the Duhé line back to two brothers who moved from France to Acadia (French Canada) before making their way down to Louisiana. They mixed with slaves (awkward) and then, down the line, Gaston Duhé married Brigette Leche, and they had six children. Continue reading
When the World is Not Made for You
There has been some silence on this blog recently, and that is because I’ve been super busy with work (because I finally have regular, full time job!) and because I went to Louisiana for a week (and did absolutely nothing witchy)– both of which I will talk about in a later post. What has been occupying much of my brain time in the last week is the shooting in Charleston.
Honestly, I don’t want to talk about it. Why? Because I’m exhausted. And when I say that, I mean that I’m so tired of my people being murdered, I’m sick of having to hear racist people on TV talk about these murders as if they were accidents, or “mistakes”, made by “unstable people” when we all know that the beliefs of these people are not anomalies but are in fact integral to the system of which we are all part. I am tired of being angry and hurt and scared. I’m tired of my white friends’ silence. I’m tired of white people not caring about the lives of black people. I’m tired and frustrated because I can’t trust my own country to keep me safe. I can’t trust the people in power to give my people justice. I’m tired of having to argue with people who DEFEND VIOLENCE AGAINST BLACK PEOPLE EVERYDAY.
I’m so so tired of this bullshit.
And I’m not saying that black people are the only ones in this country who are oppressed, or that they’re the only ones who deserve justice. I am just being shone time and time again that this world is not made for me– that the systems in place do not allow for my peaceful existence or the peaceful existence of people who look like me, who share my history. It is so painful to know that you live in a world that was not made for you. To live in a country, that you love, that you were born and raised in, that doesn’t love you back. That shows you time and time again that you’re not wanted. And I mean you as in the collective you, the black community.
And yes, there are white people out there who are allies, who care deeply about not just their own rights but the rights of others, especially the rights of communities of color. But when I see white people on facebook and cnn and fox news and on the bus and at the bank and in the newspaper defending police brutality, excusing terrorism against black bodies, excusing MURDER– it really gets you down. It makes me think, “Do white people even care? Do they give a flying fuck about anyone other than themselves?” Why do I not see more outrage? I do I not see more white people protesting the murder of innocent people? And not just the collective white community, I’m talking about people I consider to be friends, people who are my family. Why do they remain silent? Why are they not fighting with me?
Do you see why I’m frustrated? Do you see why I am so angry?
Let this be a warning to anyone reading this blog: if you are interested in sustaining white supremacy in this country, don’t bother staying. If you are white and you remain silent on the issue of violence against minorities, you are complicit in that violence and you need to go to. I’m not going to argue about it anymore. If you are not in the business of ending racism and inequality, this is not the place for you and I don’t want you here.
Apples And Pomegranates 