EDITED TO INCLUDE A LINK - Radio Show - Hex Education


What is an apology?

Google defines and apology as:

1. 1.

   a regretful acknowledgment of an offense or failure.

   • a formal, public statement of regret, such as one issued by a newspaper, government, or other organization.
   • used to express formally one's regret at being unable to attend a meeting or social function.

When someone does something to another person that may be some sort of offense, the offender is expected to make amends for those words or behaviors.  Over the past week or I've watched as the online community to which I belong has rallied behind the cries of an individual who offered an edited conversation as fuel to a fire set to burn a warlock at the stake.

The full text of the discussion completely ignored after disclosure.  I felt as though I was watching a 1930's Frankenstein Film.  Ok, so yeah that's a little dramatic.  The monster in this real life film fiasco was not the completely innocent unknowing oaf who was mistakenly viewed as a criminal based on his appearance.  This monster actually commented the offense in question.

I saw a soulful apology presented and an effort to move forward only met with more ridicule and hatred.

I saw someone actually post -  "Do you think you can apologize and get away with it?"
Another read - "Apologies do not matter, this is unacceptable and he should be put out of business."

Really?  Is this justice?  Who are we to judge?

I get the offensive nature of what was said.  I've seen both the edited and the unedited versions of the screen captures being passed around.  I've also listened to the radio show.  Some people love the humor of Eddie Murphy.  Some prefer Joan Rivers.  Some believe that people should be stoned for mocking God in a comedy sketch.  Offensiveness is subjective.

While I agree the unedited comments were extremely uncalled for, I also understand the beauty of forgiveness.  I'm not suggesting that we approve of the comment, I am saying that we approve of the apology.

Recently it was brought to my attention that the offender felt so deeply troubled by the pain his comment could have caused that he made a sizable donation to RAINN.  I immediately wanted to run to the accusers and say, "Is this enough?"   But then I realized.  It really isn't about the crime in question, it is more about the hunt.  There is nothing that the monster can do that would make the villagers forgive and accept him.   This is after all, come they are in control of.  Not him.  Because you see, his apology his attempt to make amends does nothing to change their hearts.  He cannot change them.  They have to change.

I beg of my fellow feminists, please allow people to apologize.  Allow those who have offended you to say they are sorry.  Holding on to that anger isn't going to remove evil from the world.  It is only going to ingrain that negativity and evil deeper into our core.  Not every man on the planet is out to get you.

I was so very disappointed when I saw someone I respected highly judge someone so harshly.  I was amazed at how we sit back and say, don't judge me.  Yet, we not only cast judgement on others around us, but refuse to allow others to make mistakes.  I, like them, have to stop and remember they are human.  I have to accept that just because they are in a high position in the group, that does not make them infallible.

As a devotee of the Goddess Hecate, I participate in the Deipnon.  There is a cleansing part of this ritual where I walk my house and sweep up around my area to cleanse or make amends, for any offense that may have happened towards the Goddess.  I look in my dust pan and see lint, dirt and the occasional macaroni noodle I dropped while cooking.  I take these and toss them out with a bit of garlic and leeks.   I know that with that, whatever transgressions that may have occurred are now gone.  Cleansing my house is offering an apology.

I like to say I have a relationship, not a religion.  I don't call on the Goddess to fix a flat or help my team win. (Though they could have certainly used it yesterday)  I use the representations of the deity and what she stands for to be sure that I am providing a sound, just world for our future generations.

Take a moment to examine what you are looking to leave this world.  What are you ready to work for?  The world already has enough pain and negativity.  Will you be a healer or judge, jury and executioner.

Namaste & Blessed Be
Sosanna
)O(

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I learned about this from a friend Magaly who shared "Secrets of a Sweet Southern Girl's" blog post on it.

Denim Day, which I had never heard of until last week, is related to a story from Italy in the 1990’s.  An 18 year old girl was raped by her driving instructor, she presses charges and he is arrested and prosecuted.  He appealed the sentence and the judge decided that because she was wearing jeans, he could not have gotten her pants off alone; therefore she must have consented and overturned his conviction.  In outrage women in the Italian Parliament began a protest immediately by wearing jeans to work.  The first Denim Day in LA was in April 1999 and continues today.

When I first heard about this I have to say I was a bit disappointed with myself that I’d never heard of it.  Being a very open minded and female positive person, I would think that I wouldn't have missed this. 

As my first entry for Denim Day, I’m going to write about a personal experience of mine.  I’m going to go ahead now and post the trigger warning.  

Below are descriptions of the rape of a 15 year old girl.  

The experiences are real, and they are mine.  

Please take care if you decide to continue.

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It’s dark outside.  I've been at my new house for about a week now.  I ran away from home because my mom and aunt took me to the police station to have me arrested.  My aunt slammed my face in the back door of the car before she tossed me in the back seat.  She turned on the car interior light to make sure I wasn't bleeding before escorting me into the station.  At the station they told me that they couldn't make me stay.  They took me home.  I laid in my twin bed listening to them both talk with my step father, the one who had been molesting me from age five, about calling the ‘reform school’ and having me locked up the next day.  Needless to say I ran like a bat out of hell.   What’s that old saying?  Out of the frying pan into the fryer.

I ended up calling everyone in the phone book with my last name.  It’s a small town so it was a short list.  I asked for my bio dads name at each number.  Finally a woman on the phone said, one moment.  I was paralyzed with fear.  Would he let me come there?  I’d been on the streets for a week or so.  I needed a place to go.  He answered and told me he’d meet me by the fairgrounds.

The first week was normal, yet odd.  I went from being the oldest of three girls to being the middle child.  One older brother and sister and a younger sister.  I was allowed to do whatever I wanted.  I didn't go to school.  Instead I stayed at the house and smoked pot and sometimes did other drugs.  I drank too.

My father decided to have a party to celebrate the return of his “daughter”.  Lots of people were there and we drank late into the night.  I was offered a cocktail of drugs from prescription to acid.  As I staggered out of the trailer and back to the lounge chairs that sat under a huge tree, I fell down on one and looked up at the stars.  My “Father” pulled himself on top of me and started pawing at my body in a very non-fatherly way.

I jumped up and staggered a bit and ran for the road.  I ran down the road, I was in shorts, and bare feet.  The rocks cut into my heels.  There were no cars on the road.  We were in a very remote isolated area.  He pulled up beside me in the car and said get in, it’s fine.  Don’t worry.  I got in the car and he drove down the road and pulled into what looked like an old fishing trail.  He looked at me and said, how can you give that to him and not me?  Confused I looked at him and said what?  You do that with him and not me.  I finally got it.  He was referring to the years of abuse by my stepfather.  I jumped out of the car again and he came around the side and tossed me on the hood of the car.

My arms fell limp has he took off my shorts.  My body gave up.  My mind looked to the sky and cried inside.  Is this why I’m here?  Is my only purpose in life to be hurt and taken advantage of?  If there is a God I thought, “Please Let Me DIE”.

My mind and my eyes glazed over.  I felt the stars come down from the sky can wrap themselves around me.  They pulled me up and away from this place.  I looked back to see what he was doing to my body and was comforted in knowing that I was not really there.  He may have taken my body, but he didn't take me.

I blacked out after that and woke the next morning back at his house.  I went from being abused by my stepfather to spending the next year and a half being abused by my father.  I only was able to escape after he was arrested.  I spent the next 10 years hiding from him.

Today, both my attackers are dead.  I don’t have any love for either of them.  I am glad they are gone.  For many years I blamed myself for both attacks.  But today I know that I was not responsible for it.  I was a victim.  Today I am a survivor.

Talk to your sons, teach them not to rape.  Talk to your daughters; arm them with the knowledge that they are not to blame.


No one asks to be raped.  Not in the way the dress or the way they act.  No one gives consent to be rapped by the clothes they wear, they way the dance or by passing out at a party.  Sexual assault and abuse is wrong.  If someone cannot say yes, then the answer is no.  If someone did not say yes, then the answer is no.  If someone says NO then the answer is no.

Show your support for Denim Day and wear Jeans today!

Namaste & Blessed Be

Sosanna

)O(

Photo Credit - Renee Olson Denim Day Contribution