CALL TO ACTION: Reunite a Baby with Birth Mother

Published on by Lisa Category: Uncategorized

I normally don’t post alerts or campaigns on my blog, but this is unspeakably important.

As a pregnant womyn, the story of Cirila Baltazar Cruz is unbearable. The past three months have altered my perspective. Standing at the threshold of a new unfolding of responsibility, love, fear, and acceptance has been a journey of unbelievable difficulty. The fact that this – illegal adoption from immigrants – is happening REPEATEDLY is unthinkably barbaric. IT’S TIME TO ACT. Write a letter to the folks at the bottom of this email. FORWARD THIS WIDELY. Repost on your blog. The denial of basic rights, the denial of a mother’s rights is taking on new monstrous faces and it’s enraging. I cannot imagine what this mother must be feeling. Perhaps I do not want to imagine what she’s feeling and getting this story out, getting this atrocity to the public to ACT and REACT with calls and letters is the least I can do as a womyn of color, an expecting mother, as a daughter of immigrant parents.

Don’t just read – MOVE.

h/t to Flip Flopping Joy

Request for Action from the Mississippi Immigrant Rights Alliance (MIRA):

Cirila Baltazar Cruz gave birth to her baby girl in November of 2008 at Singing River Hospital in Pascagoula, MS. She speaks very little Spanish and no English, as her native language is Chatino, an Indigenous language from Oaxaca, Mexico that is spoken by some 50,000 people.

The hospital provided her with an “interpreter” who is from Puerto Rico and does not speak Chatino, the language of the mother. Because of the language barrier and the misunderstanding by the hospital’s interpreter who only spoke Spanish and English, a social worker was called in.

The hospital’s social worker reported “evidence” of abuse and neglect based on the following:

* The “baby was born to an illegal [sic] immigrant;”
* The “mother had not purchased a crib, clothes, food or formula.” (Most Latina mothers breast feed their babies).
* “She does not speak English which puts baby in danger.”

Ms. Baltazar Cruz’s baby was snatched from her after birth at the hospital and given to an affluent attorney couple from the posh Ocean Springs who cannot have children.

The authorities made no effort to locate an interpreter in her native tongue. MIRA located an interpreter who is fluent in Chatino in Los Angeles CA and has interviewed the mother extensively with the interpreters help. The mother has been accused of being poor and not being able to provide for this child. No one has asked the mother to provide evidence of support. She owns a home in Mexico and a store which provides both secure shelter and financial support, not counting the nurturing of a loving family of two other siblings, a grandmother, aunts, uncles and other extended family.

Meanwhile, there is word in the Gulf Coast community that the “parents to be,” have already had a baby shower celebrating the “blessed arrival” of this STOLEN child!

PLEASE MAKE CALLS & WRITE LETTERS DEMANDING THE SAFE RETURN OF BABY & REUNITE WITH HER MOTHER

If you believe this is unjust and outrageous and goes against all moral and religious beliefs and values, please call or write to the presiding Judge and the MS Department of Human Services to STOP this ILLEGAL ADOPTION! Stealing US born babies from immigrant parents is a growing epidemic in the United States. Many Latino parents have lost their children this way!

Honorable Judge Sharon Sigalas
Youth Justice Court of Jackson County
4903 Telephone Rd.
Pascagoula, MS 39567
(228)762-7370

Children’s Justice Act Program
MS Dept. of Human Services
750 North State Street
Jackson, MS 39202
Call (601)359-4499 and ask for Barbara Proctor

For more information please call MIRA at: (601) 968-5182

MIRA Organizing Coordinator
Victoria Cintra at (228) 234-1697 or Organizer Socorro Leos at(228) 731-0831

Digital Poetry

Published on by Lisa Category: Mixed Media and Poetry

Sometimes my passion for photography, art, and poetry collide on Fridays and I make some digital collage with poems on them. Lately, I’ve been ruminating about technology and connection. The way Facebook, Twitter, Blogging, and online communities have brought energy, community, and information to my life.

And, with some unexplained twinge of sadness, I think about how my offline relationships are so scattered because of proximity, time zone differences, and growing up and away.

I watch people wherever I go. On the bus, at a Fish Fry, in New York, at a protest, at church, at a children’s birthday party and wonder if technology has enabled us to share our stories more with the world and less with those in our everyday lives. As my writing grows with disciplined practice and immersion into the internet, I often wonder if there’s a correlation to my growing need for human touch; face to face conversation; body language accessibility, and audible laughter.

Has digital technology enhanced your relationships? Has it changed the way you see people, including strangers on the street? Where do you see us heading with all this media advancement?

Stand With Sotomayor

Published on by Lisa Category: Uncategorized

I stand with her

because she’s committed to marginalized communities
because she hasn’t forgotten where she’s from
because she was raised by a single mother and rocked Princeton and Yale

The Wedding Rules

Published on by Lisa Category: Marriage and Weddings, Notes From Home Plate, Philosophies

Wedding bells brought Nick and I back to Russia, home of the infinite cycle of larger than life weddings. This time it was Eric Rosenbeck who was getting married.

Eric, aka Rosie, is Keith’s best friend, and not a blood relative, per se, but I’ve understood that there are a few people who are just a member of the family. Rosie is one of those folks.

On Rosie’s big day, I proudly listened to Nick as second reader and of course bawled my eyes out during Eric and Tricia’s wedding vows. (It gets me every time when the bride cries…) I was not alone. I saw Kay shedding and throwing Jay, sitting in the pew in front of her, a tissue to control the water damage.

There have been so many weddings and so many receptions that it’s sometimes hard to remember certain characteristics about each one. With the exception of my own, of course, they kind of blend together, particularly if they are in the same place. But Rosie’s wedding was different. Not just because it was held at St. Henry, but for one very sweet reason that I’ve never seen at another wedding: their first dance.

Now, most people don’t really pay any attention to the first dance. It’s so customary that most just turn around and watch for a few seconds and then go back to their dinner plates. Being the sentimental shmuck that I am, I love watching the couple interact. Most couples do the obligatory slow song and occasionally smile at the camera, but mostly they just talk to one another. It’s always a lovely moment, but it never really sticks out in my mind.

Eric and Tricia seemed to be in their own world while they were dancing. They danced as close as possible without damaging one another’s rib cages, and often sang the lyrics as they looked at each other. It wasn’t just their actions either, it was just the feeling of watching a couple very much in love dance for the first time as a married couple. It felt extremely special, rare even, to see the bride and groom make a moment like that shine. I had to dab my eyes with my napkin.

I leaned over to Nick who had a delayed start to his dinner, munching on his buttered noodles, “Did you watch that? That was incredible…” I sniffed.

Nick looked up and needed to wipe his mouth, I frowned slightly at his mess. “What? What’d I miss?”

“That was, by far, the most amazing first dance and I don’t think many people were paying attention.”

As if to prove my point, Nick reached for his chicken drumstick and raised his eyebrows, “Oh no…I wasn’t watching. What made it so great?”

I shook my head at his lack of attentiveness, “I’ve just never really seen a couple look like that. I can’t describe it, but it was really incredible.”

I don’t even think Nick was listening to me anymore as someone launched into another story at our table.

And so the great party went on.

It’s easy to remember things when you’re a sober pregnant wedding guest. And I happened to share a few of those musings with Sue Borchers, one of Nick’s many terrific cousins, who sat next to me when she was taking a break from dancing. We watched everyone gyrate and shake their bodies to the music. All of a sudden, “Love Shack,” lyrics smoothed over the dance floor and, as if on cue, two or three shrieks of delight sounded from some loopy guests. I shook my head at Sue, “You know, Love Shack is not that great of a song, but everyone at weddings LOVES it. And do you want to know why? People love acting this song out.”

Sue laughed and looked out on the dance floor, “I think you might be right,” as she observed the same crowd of folks starting to act out the “BANG! BANG!…ON THE DOOR, BABY! BANG! BANG!” And watched folks pretend to bang on invisible doors while they mouthed the lyrics.

Sue and I turned philosophical with “Love Shack” in the background, “You know,” I said, “I want to write something someday about wedding etiquette.”

Sue nodded, “That would be hilarious. Number one would be, ‘Don’t act out songs. Dance. But don’t act them out.”

We laughed and a new song exploded, luring Sue once again to shake her stuff on the dance floor.

As I rested with my 10 million cups of water, I wondered what I would call the piece I would write…”My Big Fat Country Wedding,” or “Russia Rules,” or maybe, “How to Survive a 500 Person Wedding.”

The possibilities were endless.

As I shared my thoughts with Nick later that night, I was pretty sure he was snoring when I told him my idea. He raised his head one inch above the pillow and reiterated what he always says when I have an idea, “That’s great, babe.” And then fell fast asleep. I could have told him I was planning on robbing the closest bank and I think he would have had the same response. I should probably share my ideas at a more reasonable hour. I squinted at the clock. 2:32am. Yikes, no wonder he thought my idea was great. Everything’s great at 2:30 in the morning.

Since I couldn’t fall asleep right away, I thought of all the weddings I’ve ever attended. I thought that if someday I was to write about wedding etiquette beyond the snooty and boring rules about RSVPing on time, giving an appropriate gift…blah, blah…everyone knows that. I was thinking more along the practical lines of etiquette. I was thinking about the rules we so often forget once wedding day arrives.

2009 Wedding Rules: Taken From Real Life Weddings and Reception Debacles

1. TURN OFF YOUR CELL PHONES DURING THE WEDDING MASS/CEREMONY. There is nothing more distracting than hearing Usher’s, “Yeah” during the Ave Maria.

2. (This is one of my personal convictions:) During ANY speech, whether it’s the father or mother of the bride or groom, the best man or maid of honor speeches — SHUT UP. Stop talking. It’s unbelievably rude. And if you’re sitting by me, you WILL be SHHHHHSHSHSHSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHed several times until you’re quiet. You will also see Nick burying his head in his arms when I turn around and glare at the talkers.

3. If the bride wears her veil to the reception, guests should be cognizant of the pull an embrace places on her veil. Sometimes I watch the bride’s head snap back so fast and hard, I wonder if it’ll pop off.

4. Remember that although the lights are dimmed, it’s not a total blackout. Seated guests can see where your hands are going when you’re dancing with your date. Keep it G-rated. PG-13 at worst.

5. The inevitable dancing circle that forms in big crowds seems to invite a bar-friendly guest to think it’s a hilarious idea to push people from behind into the middle. AND IT’S ALWAYS THE MOST AWKWARD PERSON ALIVE to raise their hands up and shake their heads that they don’t dance. Tip: If you don’t want to get suckered into dancing, clear the floor. The dance circle will always weed out the most timid person and claim its next victim.

6. Never, ever, EVER is it hilarious to make a spectacle of a wardrobe malfunction while you’re dancing. A button pop off? Too much cleavage from a rip? A shirt lost two buttons to reveal your manly chest hair? Don’t incorporate into your dance moves.

7. Men: it’s never a good idea to interrupt a couple while they’re dancing to practice your grinding moves on her

8. Women: lift your arms in excitement only if you are 10000% confident your dress is not going anywhere and you have applied deodorant to your pits

9. Ties should not be used in any way as a prop to lure someone as your dance partner

10. Ties should not be used in any theatrical manner, especially to demonstrate what butt floss is and how it is done

11. During square dancing, prep your novice partner

12. During “Farmer’s Daughter,” only turn the gent upside down if you are confident you will not drop him

13. During that Wheel Barrel song or whatever it’s called, if someone is nearly strangling him or herself in efforts to untangle the group, have some mercy and let them drop their arms. Don’t yell, “COME ON! YOU CAN DO IT! TWIST! WE’VE ALMOST GOT IT!” while they turn scary shades of blue.

14. If you’re over 5’2 and have a front view of the slide show SIT DOWN, CROUCH DOWN, OR GO TO THE BACK. Have some consideration for people straining for one glimpse.

15. Facetiously offering a pregnant woman a drink and then taking a sip of it yourself to reinforce her inability to drink is really NOT that funny. Don’t do it.

16. Broken glass on dance floor = ladies, keep your shoes on

17. If you use one of those basket items left for the ladies in the bathrooms to help freshen up – razor, toothbrush, floss, deodorant (recommended if you’re sweating on the dance floor) – put it back in the basket or throw it out. It is absolutely grotesque to see wrappers and used items strewn around the lavatory.

18. “Hang on Snoopy” is not the time to get in the face of someone you don’t particularly like with a threatening O-H-I-O.

19. Asking the bride and groom if it’s ok to take one of the centerpieces home as a gift for someone else – unless they are being given away – is not really appropriate.

20. When the managers of the reception facility have turned out the lights and are yelling at you to leave, oblige their request.

But, what makes weddings so gosh darn fun and hilarious are the ridiculous moments of forgotten propriety and whims of the heart (or debauchery). And my number one life rule trumps any wedding rule I can come up with: All rules are made to be broken.

It’s A Boy, It’s a Girl

Published on by Lisa Category: Gender, pregnancy

There’s no better dumping ground for socialized gender stereotypes than the ears of a pregnant woman. For a womyn like myself, it raises my blood pressure to listen to all the gendered talk and so I see writing about my pregnancy as one of the necessary exercises to stay sane and keep the kid healthy.

Sharing your pregnancy with others is like an invitation for the worst gender assumptions to pass through my ears. There’s nothing, I repeat nothing, more annoying to me right now than the comments that sound like misogyny on steroids.

“It’s just better to have a boy. You’ll worry less.”

“I wanted my first born to be a boy. ‘Cause after that, you can just relax and not worry about what the others will be.”

“Girls just are too much.”

“It’ll be better if you have a boy. With a girl, it’s just, it’s so…it’s so much more worrying.”

What is this equation in birth? Labor + boy = relief
while Labor + girl = stress

Let’s go past all the generalizations (all BS in my opinion anyway) about girls spending more money when they grow up, you’ll have to deal with more emotional crises, you’ll worry more about violence, etc…

I see both boys and girls as precious and vulnerable little things who will look up at me and not know left from right, evil from good, right from wrong…and they’ll learn what from me? –> That because she was born female, I will worry more about her being a victim of violence? That the world will treat her less, pay her, view her less because she was born with a vagina? What impact does that have on how she confronts the world? Will she fight it or believe it?

And what will I teach my son? I presumably don’t worry about him because he was born with a penis and we all know that the world prizes that much more than if he were born my daughter. Maybe he’ll have it tough from time to time, but he’ll never worry about his safety or getting raped or drugged because he’s a male.

The reality of the world is not hidden from me. I see misogyny, I see the violence, I see who takes the brunt of poverty, brutality, trafficking, and abuse. I understand how the world will treat my child differently based on its genitalia. I get it. But how does knowing how the world mistreats girls and women lead to the thought it’s better to parent a boy?

How radical is my mothering if I just walk the stereotyped line and accept the world as it is, not as I want it to be? Am I more of a mother if I protect more, worry more if it’s a girl? Or does that make me a coward?

My deepest fear is not in having a girl. I feel like I would know how to raise a girl because I identify womyn. I’ve never been a boy, I’ve never been a man. I don’t know how to teach masculinity in healthy, loving ways except in what I imagine it SHOULD be. My fear is that I do have a son and he grows up, eating the garbage available from media, peers, and school. And instead of regurgitation, he’ll swallow it, whole. And in my naivety of not knowing how to raise a man, he’ll grow to eventually be one of those fathers telling a young mother that it’s best to first have a son than to ever have a daughter.

That’s more terrifying to me than having a daughter.

Already, It’s Getting Old

Published on by Lisa Category: Life is Never General, Notes From Home Plate, Plans, Pregnancy and Parenting

I’m right at 11 weeks today and it’s going to be a long haul to January if I don’t keep my annoyance in check. I’ll chalk it up to hormones, but lately, I’m so flipping irritated with answering the same questions over and over and over and over and over again.

From family and friends, I don’t mind, but at the mechanic’s body shop, at the grocery store, library, WHEREVER where people see you are buying something that indicates your preggers, people undoubtedly will ask the following:

1) How far along are you?
2) What’s your due date?
3) How are you feeling?
4) Is this your first?
5) I bet you’re excited, aren’t you?

Now, I sound like a total jerk, but I just want to remind people that answering the same questions, multiple times a day, everyday can add to the overall fatigue and moodiness of a pregnant woman.

The only thing that I REALLY don’t like is when complete strangers’ hands make a dive for your belly. HEY — belly is off limits to unknown persons.

Family and friends, that’s a totally different story.

As Nick does a 1/2 day at work, I am getting ready to leave for Russia. Of course, I have procrastinated to where we are now leaving in about 3 hours and I have not packed a thing, eaten, exercised, or showered yet. I better get a move on.

This weekend will be another hectic one. Eric Rosenbeck will be getting married while Keith is in the wedding and Nick is a reader. Big involvement for team Borchers this weekend. As always, I’m excited for another June wedding.

Russia-bound in t-minus 3 hours.

Ok, enough procrastinating.