Sunday, September 30, 2018

California Sex Lawyer

I for one had never heard of this song and as I continue to watch the meltdown of my former Attorney nee Junkie in rehab in Venice California I thought no song could be a better fit. (And yes I use the word junkie as just because he is white, male, Harvard educated he should be called by the name we used to refer to those addicted to drugs.  It was meant to insult and demean and no one deserves that name better than Ted Vosk)

 This one's a tale of wish fulfillment from Fountains of Wayne with a  song  that portrays a young man named Doug who plans to become a California "sex lawyer," a specialty that's apparently not covered in most law school curriculum's. According to Doug:  he's got the makings of this particular discipline: "I've got big ideas. I've got back up plans. I've got the cha-cha-charisma. Got the sleight of hand. I'm gunna do some damage. Gunna bust some heads. I'm gunna go the distance. Then I'm going to bed."

Imagine if Doug had set up a shingle with that as his practice his firm would rival any of the largest white shoe firms today.

Last week David Boies was profiled in The New York Times as he had had numerous opinion letters rejected after the Times terminated their relationship with his firm when the Weinstein allegations surfaced.   Of course Mr. Boies should not be defined by his clients but his actions in that case and his failure to do due diligence in the Theranos issues did not help his defense in the least. But hey he's an Attorney and all of them are assholes so his wine cellar will be well stocked soon enough as there are more than ample cases of wealth and privilege that will need an asshole to handle.

And that brings me to Kavanaugh the latest Ivy League Lawyer who is upset that Hiliary Clinton hates him.  The whining, the raging and the crazy on display regardless of the allegations is right there a trigger warning that he needs to find a safe place and step away from the bench. Impartiality and temperament are two qualities we believe are essential in what defines a Jurist and that temper tantrum was not a good sign for a prospective applicant for a Job.  No less the Supreme Court Justice one but who are we kidding.   Remember Clarence Thomas?  Wonder what that chamber talk would be like?

Regardless of the allegations Kavanaugh is arriving with a steamer trunk of shit packed in that case.  Aside from his work on the Starr commission he seems to be an asshole of high order with few in his past having anything good to say about him when he was drunk, but sober he was an Altar Boy.  Hmm that maybe not a good analogy.   I also want to point out that he clerked for a Judge who recently stepped down due to his own allegations regarding his behavior.  Maybe that is what they mean by clerking, covering up your bosses' bullshit.

And this week we had the jailing of Bill Cosby that too was accused of being systemically racist and true he is a Black man and yet black men who had no wealth or fame would have likely been jailed decades sooner without even accusation of  a drugged cocktail but hey we go with what we know. Cosby is not fairing well in the slammer but then again who does?  But he is not alone being old and shit.  Good thing pudding is on the menu.  If he was in Texas they don't bother with providing toothless inmates with dentures so see it works out being rich and famous!

And lastly is the true million dollar question: What did they know and when did  they know it.  Much has been made that a woman waited twenty years to draw attention to Kavanaugh despite that he had been a Judge for years on the DC circuit and had well connected and established jobs in Government.  Hey I had never heard of him before had you?

Seriously unless you are stalking the man would  you know what he was doing and why would you follow the career of someone who brought you harm?  I don't even know Shar's legitimate name, where he lives and what he is doing so when someone told me a Muslim man age 30 driving a white SUV was raping women in Seattle and he does now fit the age and description I did nothing. I did reach out to Vosk to tell him and he in turn asked why I was telling him this and threatened to have me arrested for harassment.  Now this was through a fake Facebook account I had established to actually look at all this shit I had heard about what was going on in Facebook (and irony it was recently hijacked in the recent hack by a South Korean hooker it made me wish I spoke Korean) and in turn that is how I found Vosk's insanity for all to read.  In that case I was hooked but let's face it who doesn't love a public meltdown.  That may be why Facebook exists.

But she is like many who are victims you want to go on and then maybe you realize that it is larger problem and someone needs to know. But does anyone care?  I am afraid to say that the only people who do are you.  Unless there are reasons to garner money or gain some type of notoriety there is no one interested in seeking justice for you. Again I learned that from the Junkie Attorney and his former BFF, Kevin Trombold.  And no using their names is not a violation of any code it is a matter of public record. I have long changed my name and trying running but even I had to stop and take a breath.  They fucked me in ways my date did not get to that night, again in some odd way I do believe the accident might have saved my life for with all that alcohol, the drugs and inability to recall anything he could have easily killed me or I kill myself, have a seizure and been left to die.  But hey that is not what Vosk cared about and when I reminded him of that case he decided to make it about himself and in turn threaten me.  I have the screen shots proving it. So no, no one cares.

Today I read these stories in the Guardian of Weinstein employees trying to somehow justify, excuse or explain their jobs and working for a man who makes the movie Predator redundant.  He was truly an abomination of a man and it went on for decades with no one intervening.  And we have the same at CBS and NBC which are now also examining not just the men but the culture.  And to this day that bitch Katie Couric seems oblivious to acknowledging what was transpiring right next to her on a daily basis. The same with many of the 60 Minutes crew. Really great journalists there.  Denial is not just a river in Egypt it is an sea adjacent.

I need a Lawyer. Maybe a California Sex Lawyer but what would his billable hourly be? That is what I am afraid of I could never afford it nor ever would. 

Saturday, September 29, 2018

Teach the Children Well

I wanted to point to another story here about the good old boys and their issues regarding sex and harassment.

I never tire looking as the snotty tear stained face of Kavanaugh denying he did anything wrong and refusing an FBI investigation to prove his innocence.  If he did nothing wrong and had nothing to hide why then.   Gee I wonder when he was a Judge how he would rule if say a black man was before him denying his guilt and there was no evidence either of his crime and yet the Prosecution is sure it was he who raped/killed/harmed an individual.  Me think one doth protest too much.  He is truly the Choir/Alter Boy that epitomizes the Catholic Church - angry rage filled denial covered with prayer.  He learned his lessons well.  Children are mirrors of the adults around them. 

But here is just a brief roundup of editorials, stories and sordid tales that are about bringing harm to children. They didn't even need a beer. 

Here in Nashville I have lost counts of the raging sex allegations, abuse and arrests of varying Teachers and Admins, not including the never ending violence on the part of the students which includes rape, it makes you wonder how the pants of Jesus are held up here as the belt and the buckle are fucking broken.  Well that is how you used to be disciplined in schools.  Brings a nasty image doesn't it - a man taking off his belt and a child bent over has he is beaten.  Catholic Priests at least gave a nice gift of a cross afterwards, better to tag one's victims that overt bruises.

ADMITTED! Metro Lawyers Admit Some Harassment Claims Are True
Phil Williams
2:44 PM, Sep 24, 2018
11:00 PM, Sep 24, 2018

Lawyers for Metro Schools now admit some of the horrific sexual harassment allegations against a former middle school principal are true. Those stunning admissions come in response to a lawsuit involving Dr. Sam Braden, former executive principal for John F. Kennedy Middle School in Antioch.

NASHVILLE, Tenn. - Lawyers for Metro Schools now admit some of the horrific sexual harassment allegations against a former middle school principal are true.

Those stunning admissions come in response to a lawsuit involving Dr. Sam Braden, former executive principal for John F. Kennedy Middle School in Antioch.

NewsChannel 5 legal analyst Jim Todd called the admissions "abnormal."

"It's like pleading guilty at arraignment when you are first charged with a crime," Todd said. "You generally don't do that because you want to make sure the state can prove you guilty beyond a reasonable doubt."

After NewsChannel 5 Investigates first exposed the allegations against Braden, Metro Schools Director Dr. Shawn Joseph had accused us of blowing things out of proportion. School board members say he privately assured them there was nothing to the allegations.

But now, in response to the lawsuit filed by one former and two current Metro Schools employees, the district's own lawyers have filed an answer saying some of the most serious allegations are "admitted."

Jim Todd said he's never seen a lawsuit where the defendants admitted to so much so early.

"Generally a lawyer will deny and demand strict proof to test the evidence through discovery before going back and admitting anything, and they haven't done that here," he added.

A lawyer for Braden, who was sued personally, filed a response denying all the allegations.

In the case of teacher Sonji Collins, the lawsuit says that after Braden's arrival at JFK Middle, the principal "began making sexual advances' towards her. His "demands escalated in intensity and frequency and took on a more threatening physical element."

Metro's response?


Collin's lawsuit alleges that Braden "frequently bragged about his penis size being 'nine or ten inches.'" He "referred to himself as 'Big Daddy' and informed people that they 'couldn't handle Big Daddy,'" the lawsuit added.

That allegation was "admitted" by Metro lawyers.

There was also the claim that, after Braden found out "Collins' boyfriend had tragically committed suicide almost two decades ago," he "began making outrageous statements and spread false rumors that [she] had murdered her boyfriend."

Again, it was "admitted."

Then, after former coach Sherman Swindall accused Braden of sexual harassing him, the lawsuit claims Braden approached the school bookkeeper and a front desk clerk "and requested that they provide him with a false statement that Swindall was habitually late to work."

Metro lawyers admitted it's true.

Despite multiple complaints about Braden, Metro Schools did nothing for months until after our reports.

Braden was finally put on administrative leave, then he decided to retire.

Jim Todd says the crux of the case against Metro Schools now becomes: when did they learn about the harassment and what did they do about it?

"It's not just that it happened, it's that we knew about it and did nothing," Todd said. "So I don't see them admitting to knowing about it and doing nothing. But I do see them admitting to it happening, and that's just very significant."

The lawsuit also argues that, when individuals complained about Braden's behavior, Metro Schools conducted what were essentially sham investigations.

In their answer, however, the city's lawyers deny that the investigations were shams.

A teacher forced her student into sex — and docked his grade after he refused, suit says

By Kristine Phillips
September 25 at 3:45 PM

A 27-year-old math teacher, Jennifer Olajire-Aro, coerced a 17-year-old student into having sex with her, repeatedly threatening to dock his grades if he refused, according to a lawsuit filed by the South Carolina teenager and his mother.

The sexual advances had become so “public, direct, and obvious” that the student avoided Aro’s classes at Burke High School in Charleston, aware that administrators, other teachers and his classmates knew about them, the lawsuit says. The sexual encounters ended in December, after the teen refused to have sex with Aro — who then lowered his grade from 98 to 89 out of 100, according to the lawsuit.

The teen and his mother sued Aro’s employer, the Charleston County School District, accusing officials of not quickly investigating Aro despite a history of sexual misconduct in the district. The lawsuit, filed last week in Charleston County Circuit Court, comes amid an investigation of the district’s handling of separate allegations against a different school employee, who was reportedly promoted despite accusations that he had used a school computer to view child pornography. That employee was later accused of molesting two students.

Jennifer Olajire-Aro is accused of forcing a 17-year-old student to have sex with her. Aro is a teacher at the Charleston County School District in South Carolina. (Charleston County Sheriff's Office)

“They’d known about the propensity of their employees to have some type of sexual exploitations, and therefore they were all on notice,” said Mark Peper, who represents the teen and his mother, neither of whom is named in the lawsuit. “It’s just clear to me that they just didn’t care. It’s just a complete lack of oversight and supervision from the district itself. It’s a pattern.”

A schools spokeswoman said the district does not comment on pending litigation.

Aro, now 28, was charged in December with sexual battery of a student. Her attorney, J. Kevin Holmes, did not return a call seeking comment Tuesday. During Aro’s bond hearing shortly after her arrest, Holmes said she did not have a criminal record or disciplinary history at the school and had received teaching awards, the Post and Courier reported. She taught pre-calculus and algebra and is married with a baby girl.

But Peper said Aro was “hellbent” on having a sexual relationship with the student. She began flirting with the teen after she became his math teacher at Burke High in August 2017. She talked to him about sex before, during and after class, and made sexual advances in plain view of other teachers and students, the lawsuit alleges.

[‘Anyone could molest you’: Boy tells parents about sexual encounters with middle school teacher]

In November and December, Aro “encouraged and coerced” the teen to have sex with her on several occasions and at different places: at the school, in her car, in her home. At least once, it happened around Aro’s 10-month-old baby, the lawsuit says.

When the teen resisted, Aro turned to blackmail, Peper said.

“Each time he would show his hesitancy to continue this forced sexual relationship, she would remind him that she alone controls his grade,” Peper said.

Peper alleged that school administrators and teachers who knew about the misconduct did not report it to school officials.

“At this particular high school, all the teachers are very close. . . . It would shock me if the teacher herself didn’t share with other teachers what was going on with her student,” he said.

“We’ve all been in high school,” he added. “You can’t keep that kind of rumor mill under wraps. That gets around, and teachers are the first to pick up on that. . . . The bottom line is that if anyone knew about it, including teachers, they had an affirmative duty to inform the school administrators.”

The teen’s classmates knew about it, too, and teased him for being a “teacher’s pet, among other things,” Peper said.

The teen, the suit says, didn’t say anything about the teacher to his mother for weeks, fearing that Aro would dock his grade as she had threatened to do. But in December, he decided he couldn’t go on.

[Teacher accused of having sexual relations with student who allegedly tried to kill himself]

“He put his foot down and said, ‘You do what you got to do. I’m just not doing this anymore with you,’ ” Peper said.

Aro then docked the teen’s fall-semester grade by 11 points, the lawsuit says. He told his mother, who immediately reported the allegations to police and school officials. But Peper said the district did not investigate until about three weeks later, and Aro was arrested.

Erica Taylor, the district spokeswoman, said Aro was immediately placed on administrative leave and was fired in January, the month after she was charged.

The district has been facing criticism for its handling of sexual allegations against a former employee at another school. Marvin Gethers was promoted to a higher-paying job in 2014 and became employee of the year in 2015 — both after an IT specialist found that he had accessed child pornography from his school laptop, WCSC reported.

Gethers was arrested in 2016, after which time two children told police that he had molested them in 2015, the Post and Courier reported. Gethers was later charged with sexual exploitation of a minor and multiple counts of criminal sexual misconduct with a minor, online court records show. He died of heart failure in July 2017 and was never tried.

Taylor said the school district fired Gethers once officials learned of the allegations against him. She said school officials who were in charge in 2014, when Gethers was promoted, are no longer with the district.

Current officials have also hired outside counsel to investigate the allegations against Gethers and the district’s handling of the situation, and to “advise on ways to avoid a situation like [this] from ever happening again,” Taylor said.

And look another story from a very religious part of America... Pray for it to end..

A young man who served as an instructor at a Mormon church in Texas admitted that he sexually assaulted children, authorities said.

Police said 22-year-old Noel Anderson, who was a primary instructor at the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in the Dallas suburb of McKinney, Tex., abused four children between the ages of 2 and 6. The crimes happened over seven years, during which time Anderson met the children through church meetings and other activities, according to the McKinney Police Department.t)

Anderson has been charged with aggravated sexual assault of a child, a first-degree felony, and indecency with a child, a second-degree felony. He was arrested last month and is being held on a $200,000 bond, online records show. His attorney did not immediately return a call Monday.

Police suspect that there might have been more victims and are urging parents to speak with their children if they had been in Anderson’s care.

The Washington Post was unable to reach the McKinney congregation Monday, but church officials said in a statement to NBC affiliate KXAS-TV that they are cooperating with investigators.

“Children are precious, and our hearts go out to the victims and their families. We stand ready to offer love, emotional support and professional counseling for them. We are grateful for their courage in reporting this to law enforcement, and we support the efforts of legal authorities to ensure justice is served in these cases. … Anyone who engages in such behavior is rightfully subject to criminal prosecution and will also face discipline from the Church, including loss of Church membership.”

[Sexual abuse case against Mormon Church begins in West Virginia]

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, headquartered in Salt Lake City, has several congregations throughout the country and worldwide. The Texas case comes as the church faces other allegations of sexual abuse.

In West Virginia, families sued church officials for failing to act while a once-trusted member of a tightknit Mormon community preyed on children. Michael Jensen is serving a prison sentence for sexually abusing two boys while babysitting them. But six families say the much larger Mormon hierarchy in the state should also be held accountable.

The lengthy legal battle that began in 2013 ended last week, after the parties reached a settlement, the details of which were not disclosed.

In Utah, a former Mormon mission leader was accused of trying to rape a young woman more than 30 years ago. Joseph L. Bishop admitted that he took the woman to a small room at the Mormon Church-owned Brigham Young University and asked whether he could see her breasts, the Salt Lake Tribune reported in March. The woman told police that Bishop kissed her and tore her clothes, but she managed to escape.

The allegations resulted in petitions calling for an end to one-on-one interviews between church officials and young Mormons. The Salt Lake Tribune reported that church leaders have since announced new rules allowing a parent or another adult to sit in when church members are interviewing or meeting with women and children.

And lastly this story from the Top Chef host.  And she had to work with some of the many Judges and Contestants who have since found them exposed and not in very good way. 

By Padma Lakshmi

Ms. Lakshmi is an A.C.L.U. ambassador for immigration and women’s rights.
The New York Times
Sept. 25, 2018

When I was 16 years old, I started dating a guy I met at the Puente Hills Mall in a Los Angeles suburb. I worked there after school at the accessories counter at Robinsons-May. He worked at a high-end men’s store. He would come in wearing a gray silk suit and flirt with me. He was in college, and I thought he was charming and handsome. He was 23.

When we went out, he would park the car and come in and sit on our couch and talk to my mother. He never brought me home late on a school night. We were intimate to a point, but he knew that I was a virgin and that I was unsure of when I would be ready to have sex.

On New Year’s Eve, just a few months after we first started dating, he raped me.

I have been turning that incident over in my head throughout the past week, as two women have come forward to detail accusations against the Supreme Court nominee Brett Kavanaugh. Christine Blasey Ford said he climbed on her and covered her mouth during an attempted rape when they were both in high school, and Deborah Ramirez said he exposed himself to her when they were in college.

On Friday, President Trump tweeted that if what Dr. Blasey said was true, she would have filed a police report years ago. But I understand why both women would keep this information to themselves for so many years, without involving the police. For years, I did the same thing. On Friday, I tweeted about what had happened to me so many years ago.


You may want to know if I had been drinking on the night of my rape. It doesn’t matter, but I was not drunk. Maybe you will want to know what I was wearing or if I had been ambiguous about my desires. It still doesn’t matter, but I was wearing a long-sleeved, black Betsey Johnson maxi dress that revealed only my shoulders.

The two of us had gone to a couple of parties. Afterward, we went to his apartment. While we were talking, I was so tired that I lay on the bed and fell asleep.

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The next thing I remember is waking up to a very sharp stabbing pain like a knife blade between my legs. He was on top of me. I asked, “What are you doing?” He said, “It will only hurt for a while.” “Please don’t do this,” I screamed.

The pain was excruciating, and as he continued, my tears felt like fear.

Afterward, he said, “I thought it would hurt less if you were asleep.” Then he drove me home.

I didn’t report it. Not to my mother, not to my friends and certainly not to the police. At first I was in shock. That evening, I let my mother know when I was home, then went to sleep, hoping to forget that night.

Soon I began to feel that it was my fault. We had no language in the 1980s for date rape. I imagined that adults would say: “What the hell were you doing in his apartment? Why were you dating someone so much older?”

I don’t think I classified it as rape — or even sex — in my head. I’d always thought that when I lost my virginity, it would be a big deal — or at least a conscious decision. The loss of control was disorienting. In my mind, when I one day had intercourse, it would be to express love, to share pleasure or to have a baby. This was clearly none of those things.

Later, when I had other boyfriends my senior year of high school and in my first year of college, I lied to them — I said I was still a virgin. Emotionally, I still was.

When I think about it now, I realize that by the time of this rape, I had already absorbed certain lessons. When I was 7 years old, my stepfather’s relative touched me between my legs and put my hand on his erect penis. Shortly after I told my mother and stepfather, they sent me to India for a year to live with my grandparents. The lesson was: If you speak up, you will be cast out.

These experiences have affected me and my ability to trust. It took me decades to talk about this with intimate partners and a therapist.

Some say a man shouldn’t pay a price for an act he committed as a teenager. But the woman pays the price for the rest of her life, and so do the people who love her.

I think if I had at the time named what happened to me as rape — and told others — I might have suffered less. Looking back, I now think I let my rapist off the hook and I let my 16-year-old self down

I have a daughter now. She’s 8. For years I’ve been telling her the simplest and most obvious words that it took me much of my life to understand: “If anybody touches you in your privates or makes you feel uncomfortable, you yell loud. You get out of there and tell somebody. Nobody is allowed to put their hands on you. Your body is yours.”

Now, 32 years after my rape, I am stating publicly what happened. I have nothing to gain by talking about this. But we all have a lot to lose if we put a time limit on telling the truth about sexual assault and if we hold on to the codes of silence that for generations have allowed men to hurt women with impunity.

One in four girls and one in six boys today will be sexually abused before the age of 18. I am speaking now because I want us all to fight so that our daughters never know this fear and shame and our sons know that girls’ bodies do not exist for their pleasure and that abuse has grave consequences.

Those messages should be very clear as we consider whom we appoint to make decisions on the highest court of our land.

Friday, September 28, 2018

Catholic Prep

I am not a Baptized Catholic, I adopted not converted to Catholicism in 7th grade. I attended St. John School from grades 6-8. And I can recall almost every single Teacher I had those years. I can only recall one being any semblance of a decent Teacher and it is her name that I am to this day unsure of. Funny how that over 40 years ago still stands out in my recollections. She was a married Teacher and lived near my home on 68th street and I actually think I went there and she came to my home and her embracing my art is the one thing that stands out but the rest of the crew from the horrific Nuns to the lay Teachers are still burned into my memory banks. The rapey mc rapist Priest came after I graduated, Father Champagne; however, by that time I was attending Saturday afternoon Masses and I had many exchanges with him over the few years I went.  He was keen on me joining the Church and I can never remember one single reason why?   I did not like him nor actually any of the Priests, one left to marry my Math Teacher a former Model. My father called that one after attending a school event he saw through them, shame he did not know of the rest of it. But I loved the Catholic pomp and circumstance and the theatrics that frankly neither the Lutheran nor Presbyterian Churches offered. It was only later in High School when the Presbyterian Church was rebuilt and they put a Theater group in the old one, La Pense Players did I find my real Church - the Theater.

Catholicism was interesting in the way most religions are, built on mythology, legacy, and of course blood and war. What's not to like? Imagine the Crusades today as a video game. Good stuff and never boring. I never got into the rest of the bullshit associated with Religion, aka, giving money, judging others and believing a patriarchal figure had all the answers but Religion has some good things and the idea of the larger version of Christianity is never far from my own beliefs in what I now call Humanism.

So yesterday watching the debacle/cluster fuck/nightmare production that took place on Capitol Hill over the allegations made regarding Judge Kavanaugh I found myself becoming deeply upset, angry and amused.  I am not sure what to make of any of it other than this has to be the lowest scale humiliation of American politics since Trump became President.   I cannot believe that the Russians would care at this point as the damage is done and they can now step back an watch this as one would a Telenovela or Soap Opera.  If this was a Hurricane it was level 10.

I naturally went to my own story over now six years ago and it lives in my brain with many memories but the reality is that few realize how fucked up Lawyers and the Jurisprudence system is until they see it live and experience it in person.  I know I am one of many women who have struggled with their own history of assault and the night I was drugged and the accident that followed took many if not all of the memories of that night and the days that followed it was the year that came after that I would do whatever it took to forget and that I cannot and I challenge any woman or man who finds herself in that type of circumstance to not.

I have written extensively about the two Attorneys I hired to help me resolve and seek some peace after I found myself being charged with a DUI.   A DUI that resulted from a near fatal car accident that landed me a coma and while in said coma a Police Officer took my blood without a warrant and a month later I was charged.   It took me hiring and firing in total over six Attorneys before I went to Court.  I landed on Ted Vosk and Kevin Trombold, two men whom I wish nothing but despair upon for the remainder of their lives.   I may have gotten half my wish as it appears Ted Vosk is a Junkie/Addict in Rehab right now or not as hard to tell from his Facebook page where he rambles on about Suicide and other histrionics that are fairly parallel to the ones I witnessed Judge Kavanaugh having yesterday before the Senate Judiciary committee.  When I finally confronted Ted on Facebook he threatened to have me arrested for harassment and said he could have been disbarred or cited for defending me against the Judges orders.  Yes people Lawyers are assholes.   I do wonder if Ted was hooked on something other than phonics at the time given some of the errors and displays I witnessed during my trial or was he just that bad all on his own.  Christ good thing he did not pay for his Harvard law degree.  That may be it he was a charity case.  As for the former Prosecutor she is now a criminal defense and family Attorney defending people like me, how the shoe fits and changes when on the other foot I guess. And she called me a whore.  How amusing.  At least I am not one doing it for money. .  Ah I remember her well and her out by demanding a mistrial and Kevin refusing. Good times he redefines Robber Baron.   And these were the ones defending me.  Alas you get what you pay for all 26K.

So watching this woman be grilled by the odd Prosecutor reminded of Ms. Miller who stood in court and mocked me and my Attorneys who for some reason kept me sitting next to her for whatever convoluted reasons they had created while in turn they enabled her and the addled Judge to run rampart of their supposed skill set with Ted Vosk again a Harvard law degree.  Yes the Ivy League produces quite a collection of assholes and Kavanaugh despite being from Yale again shows the kind of cut to their cloth.

Add to this the choir boy bullshit that Kavanaugh peddled, the grad from the elite all boys prep school which we are coming to learn if Priests weren't raping you you were drunk and raping girls. Sounds fucking fantastic.  I read today another story about women who attended elite private girls/Catholic  schools in the area and they too were good Catholic girls who were told to be ladies and in turn keep their mouths shut (or open if necessary in  a blow job kind of way) about what they experienced and learned that was not on the curriculum.  I think we have now learned where the Mob learned about Omerta from the Priests who needed that.

I remember my Catholic school days very vaguely. By the time I graduated Blanchet High School  I had already started to distance myself from it as well as my peers.  I had no friends at that point and several of them had a bad car accident that last year during that time due to drunken driving which why in 2012 me getting behind a wheel with a supposed .10 blood alcohol count was absurd. The positive test for Benzodiazepines however not surprising as I remember nothing of that night when I returned from the bathroom. But alas that was not the issue for my crackerjack law team as the one vial of blood taken while I was in a coma, without a warrant was all that was taken.  And in turn the City failed to provide us with enough blood to test to prove their were illegal drugs in my system. Instead the hospital claimed they put them in first then tested my blood. Whoops or What the fuck is that normal?  And safe? Again who would question that logic or medical malfeasance? No one.  No one was willing to help me then and no one was willing to help me today.  That was then this is now. And when they don't believe you they don't.  That was not the way in 2012 and it is the way of today.  As for taking my blood, since that time the Supreme Court ruled (thanks Scalia who would thought after yesterday I would miss him!) that taking blood without warrant was a violation of civil rights but again in Seattle that ruling was irrelevant  but hey my cracker jack legal team of Vosk and Trombold focused on none of that.   Nor that it is my right to test any blood or evidence. Again none of this even made it to the appeal.  To this day I cannot believe it but now I can given what I have read on Facebook with regards to Mr. Vosk's meltdowns. Drugs do that to a person.  I don't know this from experience I have pretty much been fine with the whore allegations as that was more than enough but I don't need them watching Vosk's meltdown gives  me a high all on its own.

So yesterdays bizarre antics and theatrics were every moment a trigger warning that reminded me that despite the good news of Bill Cosby going to the slammer, decades late and nowhere near the level of charges he deserved, that today in America the good white boy of the privileged background will sit in a position of superiority and arrogance and we allowed that to happen. But the one thing I do carry with me from all of this is anger.  Catholics, as we saw yesterday are mean drunks and they hold their anger too.  Well good on that as that is just the type of person who should sit on the Supreme Court right?  Fuck this shit I need a drink.  

Wednesday, September 26, 2018

High Needs Low Bar

 I have finally decided to reduce my sub gigs in SPED classrooms and just do ELL and half days in most schools as I am bored out of my skull and frankly am riding the tide to January when I have an excuse to not work when the dental surgery begins.    Never have I ever been more excited to not be able to speak or have to deal with the people here. 

Let's talk about violence and teens here.   Or not.  Most of the crime here is done by kids, they are violent, angry,  poor and truly dangerous.   I went yesterday to a Middle School where a 7th grader came in and announced he was going to get into a fight today and he was going to beat down some perceived enemy.   During my encounters with him I found him to be smart and interesting and curious so who was this kid?  The same with another sarcastic rude boy and in turn later I found him to be interesting and engaging.  Two boys and one was black and the other white but they share the same rage and confusion about their place in this city of it.

Most kids like that end up with an IEP, an individualized learning program that is just paperwork. The staff, the Teachers and the School have insufficient funding in which to actually implement and support these kids and in turn they are pushed through.   Recently I read about a Teacher fired for giving zeros.   She posted her termination notice on the board for the kids to read and of course her district claimed it was other matters.  Sure what.ever.  Been there done that and know that one as in Education you don't actually need a reason to be fired, moved or labeled.  Anyone who thinks Unions protect failing Teachers has actually never worked in schools. True they are often moved like a Shuffleboard piece but it does stop random terminations that run the gamut say like here in Nashville failing to give the Principal a blow job.

The same school I was at yesterday had  a similar situation where the Art Teacher walked out two weeks ago as he had enough and told the kids he was not paid enough to be abused and treated the way he was by kids.  The former Art Teacher told me the same last year and she left, the same school used to have a partnership with the Zoo up the street but the kids were so dangerous and irresponsible handing and treating the animals that the Zoology Teacher left and the program is now online and the kids can see the zoo via computers.  Again the Zoo is within walking distance and that is now over.  The turn and burn in this school is worth a watch as I have been there too many times to really say anything positive.   The same class I was in where a cluster of girls told me about the Art Teacher informed me they were not the problem and when asked why the other kids are so challenging and feel the need to be cruel and unkind and so disrespectful to the point a man gets up and walks out they seemed clueless.   Then by the end of this class the same little girl, a practicing Muslim, gets up and walks up to me and says, "Give me a high five!"  I happen to loathe this as last year I did this with a kid and he tried to break my wrist hitting me so hard even another student commented, so I refused.  But I also saw her hand covered in filth.  I had watched her take a glue stick put it on her hand then rub it all over the desk, the dirty floor so I knew she was up to something and she was shocked when my comment was, "I don't do high fives so sorry to disappoint you and you just demonstrated to me what we spoke about earlier, so thanks."

Again, I note everything about these kids, the gender, the color of their skin, their overt ethnicity as in this case she was in full Muslim coverage and her friend was Latina who denied being a part of the problem which again denial usually means no you were part of it.  He who accuses, excuses.  And I do this to see if it is simply a matter of race to define the problem and in turn what that means for me and what I will or have become regarding the problems I see.  And while I am more cognizant of race I simply just treat the faces that come before me regardless of color with suspect and distrust.  And these are largely children which does not make me feel good about anything I see here. And I see a lot.

Charter Schools are the schools that may parents, particularly those faces of color, believe they are the savior to public educations failures to educate and help their children.  No what they do is take what little funds allocated and in turn remove them from other schools that serve the same population and in turn force them to do less with less.   The lack of funding, the frustration and anger has now spilled into the streets and the courtrooms with State Legislators attempting to reconcile the failures of years where one idiotic plan or program, No Child Left Behind, Every Child Succeeds, that left districts combating and competing for federal dollars and in turn fueling the entire Reform Movement that now has the biggest advocate (an even bigger moron than the idiot in the White House) moving those few chess pieces left now to the right.  It will not end with anyone taking any one's King.

Special Education is to accommodate and include and it is a program that needs to be completely overhauled and changed to address that it is a broad field of needs.  There are children who have Autism and in that alone there are multiple levels of skill sets.  There are physical disabilities which again include hearing or visible impairment, learning disabilities and lastly behavior issues.  To shove them all into a room and label them "Disabled" does a disservice to all those who serve, teach and aid these students to allow and enable them some sense of purpose and in turn education.

This is about Georgia and true there is a problem in the South with regards to Education overall for Students of color and in turn any student who has poverty as a part of their family and that it does not discriminate.   It is systemic, it is a legacy, it is a reflection of a larger community and one of denial that we have never fully grasped nor frankly will. When it comes to Education and Schools it is a singular experience and in turn attitude and reflection about that school, that Teacher and that service. Everyone else's experience is secondary if not irrelevant to what is ostensibly about your needs. And as long as you got yours and I got mine its all good.  

Georgia’s Separate and Unequal Special-Education System
A statewide network of schools for disabled students has trapped black children in neglect and isolation.

By Rachel Aviv  The New Yorker
October 1, 2018, issue, with the headline “The Forgotten Ones.”

When Seth, who has autism, was four, he was placed in a new school. A family member described it as a kind of ghost town.

Seth Murrell, a four-year-old boy with dreadlocks to his chin, moved with his family to Atlanta in the fall of 2015. On his first day at his new preschool, he cried the whole morning. He wouldn’t sit still in his chair. He’d pop up and snatch the glasses off a classmate’s face, or spit at the teacher. When he was tired, he waved his arms in the air, begging his teacher to hold him. On the rare occasions that his teacher complimented him, he shouted “Yay!” too loudly.

His mother, Latoya Martin, a hair stylist, had moved with her husband and three children from Donalsonville, a rural town in Seminole County, in the southwest corner of Georgia, to be closer to psychiatrists and neurologists who would understand why her son was developmentally delayed. He couldn’t string words together into a sentence. His teachers called Latoya nearly every day and told her to pick him up early, because he was disrupting the class. When Latoya resisted—she was busy looking for a new job—her friends warned her that the school might call child-protective services if she couldn’t pick up Seth promptly. Latoya sensed that the teachers were accusing her of being a bad parent, so she informed the school’s principal that she had never done drugs and that in high school her G.P.A. had been 4.0. Latoya’s sister Anita said, “They kept saying we needed to work with him more at home. I’m, like, we work with him—that’s not the problem. This is part of his disability!”

After a month, Latoya was told that Seth would be sent to a school twenty minutes away, in the Georgia Network for Educational and Therapeutic Support, a constellation of schools, known as GNETS, attended by four thousand students with emotional and behavioral disabilities. Anita, a public-school teacher in Atlanta for nearly two decades, said, “I was just trying to figure it out in my head—we already have special-ed classes in the schools, so why is there this second system?” GNETS has a ten-per-cent graduation rate, compared with seventy-eight per cent for other public schools in Georgia.

Seth, who at twenty-one months had been given a diagnosis of pervasive developmental disorder—a loosely defined diagnosis often given to toddlers when their condition is not understood—was assigned to the Ash Street Center, one of a hundred and seventy-nine sites in the GNETS network. The school is surrounded by a gated fence. Latoya said that the next-youngest student in Seth’s class was nine. The year before, a teaching assistant at Ash Street had been arrested after knocking a fourteen-year-old boy to the floor, choking him, and shouting, “I will kill that little motherfucker!”

Latoya said that, when she walked into her son’s class, “I did not see one white child. All I saw was black boys.” Seth’s “target behavior,” according to the center’s intervention plan, was to “comply with adult directives.” Latoya demanded that Seth be returned to his neighborhood school, but she was told that first he had to meet his performance goals, which included following instructions seventy per cent of the day. “You all know this is against the law, right?” she said to Seth’s teacher. The federal Individuals with Disabilities Education Act, passed in 1975, states that children with disabilities must be educated with their nondisabled peers to the “maximum appropriate extent.” They can be removed from their classrooms only if their disabilities are so severe that they can’t learn in a less restrictive setting.

After Seth had gone to Ash Street for ten days, Latoya and her husband, Tercel, who was working at a Toys R Us, returned with their children to Donalsonville, where Latoya’s family has lived for as many generations as they can trace back. Latoya’s sister Yvette, a high-school teacher, said, “She was just praying that a small town with teachers who had grown up around them would know how to take care of her baby.” Latoya tried to enroll all three children in their former school, where she and her twelve siblings had gone. Though black and white students at the school had held separate proms as recently as the nineteen-eighties, Latoya trusted the teachers, many of whom she’d grown up with. Her two older children rejoined their classes, but the school district said that Seth was now classified as a GNETS student. He would have to take a bus to a GNETS school called Pathways, in Bainbridge, thirty minutes away.

Latoya’s sister Sonja, who lived in Bainbridge, occasionally stopped by Pathways in the middle of the day. She described the school as a kind of ghost town. The front office was empty—the secretary and the coördinator had left, and the positions were never filled—and there was no full-time nurse, social worker, resource officer, or behavioral specialist. (The district’s superintendent said that off-site staff provided support to the school.) Sonja said, of the first time she came to the school, “I walked down the hallway hollering, ‘Hello? Hello? Anybody here?’ ” She looked in Seth’s classroom and saw him sleeping on the floor, alone. His teacher was in another room.

There are roughly a hundred students at Pathways, which has three sites in the region, and all of the students are classified by the state as “economically disadvantaged.” In Bainbridge, there was only one other student in the elementary-school class: MaKenzie Phillips, a petite thirteen-year-old white girl who immediately warmed to Seth, calling him her baby. MaKenzie took antidepressants, antipsychotics, two drugs for attention-deficit disorder, and anti-anxiety pills. She was generally calm and said, “Yes, Ma’am,” when addressed, though she also interrupted conversations with vulgar words. She was in the elementary class because she had an I.Q. of 40. She spent much of the day flipping through magazines that she couldn’t read. MaKenzie’s mother, Erica, said that, whenever she dropped by the classroom, “there was no instruction. But I just figured I was coming at the wrong time of day.”

Seth’s class was led by Melissa Williams-Brown, who lived a few blocks from Latoya and had gone to her high school. She was not certified to teach elementary school, and had little knowledge of the nature of her students’ disabilities. “I didn’t get any specialized training,” she told me. “I just winged it.” The students at Pathways had bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, A.D.H.D., autism, or, as one teacher put it, “home-life issues” such as neglect, trauma, or poverty. Williams-Brown didn’t understand why Seth, who was eventually given a diagnosis of autism, couldn’t return to his neighborhood school, where there were more qualified teachers. “There was nothing in place for this young man,” she told me. “I just felt like these students, especially the black boys, were put there, basically, because they intimidated their teachers.”

The first GNETS school, the Rutland Center, founded in 1970, was once housed in the former West Athens Colored School, whose principal promised to teach the “practical duties of life” to the “inferior race.” The concept for GNETS was visionary. According to a report by researchers at the University of Georgia, the schools, then called psychoeducational centers, would rely on teachers trained in developmental psychology, ready to “face the assault of bizarre behavior.” They were taught that they might be the “only agent for change in the life of a disturbed child.” Mary Wood, a professor emerita at the University of Georgia, who developed the concept, said that she intended for each program to have a consulting psychiatrist, a social worker, a program evaluator, and a psychologist. But as the first generation of directors retired, in the nineties, “the pieces of the mosaic dropped out,” she said.

In the two-thousands, funding was cut, and the psychologists who remained seemed to be given free rein. One mother learned that a school psychologist was planning to subject her daughter, who had post-traumatic stress disorder, to fifteen hours of “experiments” devised to provoke misbehavior. “If I go to a mechanic with my car and my car is not doing the problem that I brought it there for, the mechanic can’t diagnose it,” the psychologist explained, at an administrative trial in 2005. “That’s the same situation here.” Over the years, a few parents became so suspicious of the program that they sent their children to school wearing recording devices. On one tape, a teacher could be heard giving a child what someone in the room called a “be-quiet hit.” On another, teachers laughed about how they had put a student in a seclusion room because they needed a break. In 2004, a thirteen-year-old student hanged himself in a Time Out Room, an eight-by-eight concrete cell that could be locked from the outside.

Leslie Lipson, a lawyer at the Georgia Advocacy Office, a state-funded agency that represents people with disabilities, said that she first learned of the GNETS system in 2001, when a mother called to report that her son was put in a seclusion room nearly every day. “It’s all little black boys at this school,” the mother told her. Lipson researched the mother’s claims and then rushed into her boss’s office to tell him that she’d discovered an “insidious, shadow education system.” She said, “I thought I was Erin Brockovich. I was, like, ‘You are not going to believe this! There is an entire segregated system in Georgia! Can we shut this down immediately?’ I was talking a thousand miles a minute, and my boss waited for me to take a breath. He was, like, ‘Um, yeah, these schools have been around since before you were born.’ ”

Lipson studied the history of the schools, some of which were established in buildings that had housed schools for black children during the Jim Crow era. At a time when there was an outcry against court-ordered integration, GNETS became a mechanism for resegregating schools. “It became a way to filter out black boys, who at younger and younger ages are perceived to have behavioral disabilities,” she said.

The Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA) requires that students with disabilities learn in the “least restrictive environment,” a loose term that may mean different things depending on the race or the class of the student. Nirmala Erevelles, a professor of disability studies at the University of Alabama, told me that, “in general, when it comes to people of color—particularly poor people of color—we choose the most restrictive possibility,” sending students to “the most segregated and punitive spaces in the public-school system.” According to Beth Ferri, a disability scholar at Syracuse University, IDEA provided a kind of loophole to the 1954 Supreme Court decision in Brown v. Board of Education, which outlawed racial segregation in schools. Now racial segregation continued “under the guise of ‘disability,’ ” she said. “You don’t need to talk about any race anymore. You can just say that the kid is a slow learner, or defiant, or disrespectful.” Ferri said that IDEA “treated disability as apolitical—a biological fact. It didn’t think about things like racial or cultural bias.”

Data obtained through records requests reveal that the percentage of students in the GNETS program who are black boys is double that of the public schools in the state. Most of the students in GNETS are classified as having an “emotional and behavioral disorder,” a vague label that does not correspond to any particular medical diagnosis. A teacher who worked for five years at a GNETS program called Coastal Academy, in Brunswick, told me, “We always had a sprinkling of middle-class white kids, maybe two or three, but they didn’t stay long. Everyone made sure they got out. It was the black students who were trapped there. They came in first grade and never left.” Coastal Academy occupies a lot that once held an all-black school, originally called the Freedman’s School, and the percentage of black males in the program is three times that of the districts that the school draws from. The teacher, who worried that she’d lose her job if she were identified, said that public schools in the area would “send the African-American kids to us for doing things like saying the word ‘shit’ in class or pushing a chair in really loudly. They would never, ever—never in a million years—attempt to come at a white parent with that.”

The teacher said that students at Coastal Academy were routinely knocked to the floor and restrained. When they couldn’t calm down, they were put in a Refocus Room. “If a student was having a bad day or hadn’t taken his meds, the teacher down the hall from me would park herself in front of the room and the student would stay there all day,” she said. “I heard children shrieking and screaming.” (The program’s director denied that students were knocked to the floor and that the room had been used for seclusion—the state banned seclusion rooms in 2010—and said that some students asked to go there.) When parents complained, the teacher said, “they were met with the same rigmarole: there is a reason why your son is here, and sometimes kids with these conditions make things up.”

In the past fifteen years, the number of black families in the country who homeschool their children—often to protect them from being characterized as troublemakers or sent to special-education programs—has more than doubled.

Suzie Dunson, the grandmother of a student in a GNETS program called the Woodall Center, in Columbus, said that, when her grandson was in first grade, she stopped by the school one day and found him sitting on the floor, handcuffed to a classroom chair. “He was six years old, and he looked like a chained animal,” she told me. Her grandson routinely came home from school with a swollen face. “I’d ask him, ‘How was school today?’ ‘Oh, I got restrained,’ he’d say.” According to the Woodall Center’s records from the past two years, there were sixteen instances of teachers injuring students while attempting to restrain them. The reports typically blame the student: “In the process of restraining him he twisted his body and hit his head,” one teacher noted. “His face must have rubbed on the ground,” another wrote.

This year, when Dunson’s grandson was sent to a juvenile-detention facility, at the age of eleven, he already had a friend there—a boy from his class. She describes the Woodall Center, where more than half the students are black boys, and ninety-one per cent are classified by the state as “economically disadvantaged,” as a “pipeline-to-prison program.” (A spokeswoman for the Woodall Center said that the school does not have documentation of Dunson’s grandson being handcuffed or regularly restrained.)

It is not uncommon for students with disabilities to be placed in settings that are unnecessarily isolated, but GNETS is unusual in that this form of segregation is sponsored by the state rather than by the school district; families can’t escape it by moving to a new neighborhood. Jatoyia Armour, a public-school teacher in Atlanta, said that when her five-year-old son, Jamir, was referred to GNETS, “I kept telling myself, ‘This isn’t a race issue. Jamir just has behavioral issues.’ ” She and Jamir had recently moved to an affluent suburb in northern Atlanta so that he would be zoned for a better school. He was the only black boy in his kindergarten class. He had an I.Q. of 120, but he wouldn’t sit still, and had tantrums in which he threw objects. Armour said that the school called the police three times before he was transferred to a GNETS program, where the proportion of black boys to other students is nine times that of his elementary school. “When I got to the GNETS program, and it was majority black, it was glaring,” Armour told me. “They wanted this little black boy out. And it hurt.” She homeschooled Jamir for the rest of the year and then enrolled him in a charter school, but when the charter school reviewed his records she was told that he had to go back to GNETS. “I worked hard to move to that area to give my kid the best, and we were pushed back out,” she told me. She worries that Jamir has already internalized the experience. In the past year, he has begun to introduce himself to strangers by saying, “Hi, I’m Jamir, I’m bad.”

In 2016, under President Barack Obama, the Department of Education instituted the “significant disproportionality rule,” which required states to more vigilantly report when students of color are disciplined and placed in special-education classes at higher rates than their peers. Black students are three times more likely to be suspended or expelled than white students, and although black students make up only nineteen per cent of students with disabilities, they make up thirty-six per cent of those who are mechanically restrained—handcuffed, strapped to a chair, tied down.

The “significant disproportionality rule” was supposed to take effect in the summer of 2017. But, when President Donald Trump directed agencies to cut federal regulations, the Department of Education said that the rule needed to be modified or rescinded, and delayed it for two years. Michael Yudin, the Assistant Secretary for Special Education and Rehabilitative Services in Obama’s Department of Education, told me that he was appalled by the decision. “It flies in the face of the data, reams and reams of data, showing that the problem is massive,” he said.

After Seth had been at Pathways for a few months, the school hired a new teacher, who was properly certified. Latoya said that her son’s behavior quickly improved. In her records, the teacher wrote that Seth “is affectionate with his peers and teachers (hugs). . . . He often dances and sings small phrases from the verses of song.” He began to use sentences.

That summer, after Seth’s first year at Pathways, Obama’s Department of Justice brought a lawsuit against Georgia to “vindicate the rights of the thousands of students unnecessarily segregated in the GNETS Program.” Negotiations for a settlement faltered shortly before Trump was elected. Alison Barkoff, who served as the special counsel in the Civil Rights Division of the Department of Justice under Obama, told me, “The state rolled the dice on a change in Administration and had a good roll.” The new Attorney General, Jeff Sessions, had told the Senate, in 2000, that IDEA was a “big factor in accelerating the decline in civility and discipline in classrooms all over America.”

In October, 2016, Seth’s new teacher quit. She didn’t want to talk to me or have her name printed, for fear of professional repercussions. When I showed up at her house, she wouldn’t let me in. She stood on her porch and said, “What the Department of Justice is saying about GNETS is completely true. It’s completely true. It’s not therapeutic at all. The kids are not being educated. Not even in a social-skills way.”

Melissa Williams-Brown remained in the classroom, with the help of a substitute aide who, she told me, was “just a friend of somebody who worked there. She was just a body, and that body had no educational training.” Years before, Williams-Brown had learned to physically restrain middle-school students, but, she said, “I was never trained how to restrain a child as small as Seth. So I just came up with my own method.” She stood behind him while folding his arms across his chest or laying his arms on a desk. Seth’s doctor said that he was too young for medication, but the staff at Pathways urged Latoya to give him medication; he needed “something to keep him still,” Williams-Brown said.

The middle-school aide at Pathways, Phyllis Rambo, who lived a block away from Latoya, routinely got her hair done at Latoya’s house. Latoya sees some twenty clients a day in her living room. Tercel, who is out of work, sometimes assists by sitting near a power outlet, and, when she waves the cord of the blow dryer, plugging it in. Latoya’s eldest sister had been a close friend of Rambo’s since they were toddlers, and Latoya’s best friend was Rambo’s daughter Daneisha. As she weaved Rambo’s hair, Latoya complained that Seth became more aggressive and defiant at school. His teachers said that he had begun cursing. “I want you to sit here and listen to how many times Seth curses here,” she told Rambo. “Not one time. We do not swear in this house.”

“This morning, I looked in the mirror and said to myself, ‘Bruce, you’re a billionaire. It’s time to stop horsing around and enjoy life a little.’ ”

Latoya wondered if her son’s condition was the cost of her behavior as a teen-ager. In her neighborhood, she had been known as a fighter, easily provoked. “I was angry for a long time about how my daddy used to treat my mama,” she told me. “I thought I could change—and I did change, and that’s why I named my daughter Sahrenety, to be honest—but then it came back with Seth. I felt like this was my punishment for being angry.”

Last fall, when Seth began first grade, a new teacher, Avondika Cherry, was leading his classroom. Cherry, a tall, elegant black woman who was raising a daughter on her own, had been a special-education teacher for seven years in Gadsden County, Florida, where she was once named Teacher of the Year, before rising to become an administrator of the program. She took the position at Pathways because it paid slightly better than her old job. In a reference, a colleague wrote that Cherry was “a very astute, responsible, earnest, and dependable person.”

Cherry had not been trained to teach students with autism; neither had her supervisor, a white woman named Jeanene Wallace, the director of all three Pathways centers, who had worked for gnets for twenty-one years. Wallace asked a teacher who taught autistic students at another Pathways site if Cherry could observe her classroom for a few hours. “I apologize for having so little ideas, but I just don’t know how to work with these students,” Wallace wrote.

Cherry, who was studious and unaccustomed to wasted time, began applying for new jobs after a week. She encouraged Williams-Brown to look elsewhere, too. “I think you can do something better,” she told her one day, as Seth lay on the floor on his back in a sunny spot by the window. “The way I see this place, it needs to be shut down.”

The school had installed new surveillance cameras the prior year, after Georgia passed a law—named for a boy whose mother complained that he routinely came home from school bruised—allowing video monitoring equipment in special-education classrooms. A review of close to a hundred hours of classroom surveillance footage, obtained through an Open Records Act request, shows that there was usually about half an hour of instruction in Seth’s class per day. Much of the day was devoted to the drama of whether or not Seth would wear his shoes. He found them uncomfortable, as many autistic children do. When he took them off, he was sent to Cool Down, a desk facing a blank wall. He went to Cool Down several times a day, for up to thirty minutes at a time, for other behaviors that stem from his disability, such as counting to ten in the wrong order, saying “no” repeatedly, or making funny noises.

MaKenzie often expressed affection for Seth when she sensed that he was being maligned. She told him several times a day that she loved him. He typically gravitated to whatever part of the room she was in. Once, after Seth took off his shoes, MaKenzie asked her teachers, “Seth is being bad, ain’t he?”

“He’s always bad,” Cherry said.

MaKenzie, who liked to take off her shoes, too, sat on a beanbag chair, and Seth lay on the floor, curled up next to her legs. “I’m bad,” she muttered to herself.

Twice a week, Latoya takes her family to the Gathering Place, a church in a former supermarket in Donalsonville. The pastor gives his sermons in the old meat section, a large cinder-block room with L.E.D. lighting. Seth’s aunts and cousins make up about a quarter of the week-night congregation. When I went with them one evening, Seth sat next to five cousins and shared a folding chair with a friend from the neighborhood, a teen-ager raised in foster care who treated Seth like a little brother. As they waited for the service to start, Seth leaned on the boy’s shoulder and watched the other kids while chewing on the collar of his shirt. The pastor made announcements on a microphone, and Seth began silently weeping. He often cried when he heard loud noises. Once the congregation began singing, though, Seth stood up, closed his eyes, bowed his head, and hummed along to the melody. He danced and clapped with the other kids, but a little more vigorously.

In school, Seth was more agitated. He increasingly seemed to embody everything that his teachers resented about their jobs, and they talked about him as if he couldn’t comprehend language. “You’re about three grade levels behind, and you think you’re going to have a career?” Williams-Brown said one day, as Seth sat in Cool Down, where he’d been sent for not listening to a story. He watched the women and whimpered.

The railroad area in Donalsonville, Georgia, which separates the black community from downtown. After American schools were ordered to integrate, in 1954, special education became a mechanism of resegregation. “You don’t need to talk about any race anymore,” Beth Ferri, a disability scholar, said. “You can just say that the kid is a slow learner, or defiant, or disrespectful.”
Photograph by LaToya Ruby Frazier for The New Yorker

“Turn around and be quiet,” Williams-Brown said.

“I’m going to suggest he move back to day care,” Cherry told her.

“If he doesn’t pay attention, he’s going to be locked up,” Williams-Brown said.

“Ms. Williams, I love you—be nice,” MaKenzie said later. “And Ms. Cherry.”

“You know I’m always nice,” Cherry said.

“You’re lying,” MaKenzie told her.

Cherry shared her frustrations with such detail and abandon that she seemed either to believe that no one cared or to wish, on some level, to be fired. When Williams-Brown missed a day of school in October and a substitute, Teresa Richardson, filled in for her, Cherry said that she felt tricked by Wallace into taking a job that no one else wanted. “You say you’re the supervisor—you say you’re watching the camera, then you can see the things that happen,” she said. “You aren’t saying nothing.” She wondered if Wallace, whose office was forty minutes away, was intimidated by her, because she had so many opinions about what was wrong with the program. She was also the only black lead teacher in the building; besides Williams-Brown and Rambo, the middle-school aide, the other teachers were white.

“It’s a bad situation,” Richardson agreed. She was sitting on the floor next to Seth, holding his legs still, trying to coax him to take his afternoon nap. A few feet away, MaKenzie was watching “The Princess and the Frog,” which was being projected onto a wall. Richardson said that her mother had heard people in town talking about how the school was “not giving them the education that’s needed. It’s not what it’s supposed to be—you and I can see that ourselves.”

Cherry shook her head. “I got to get out of here so quickly.”

“I hate my life,” MaKenzie blurted out.

Today, students of color in the United States are nearly three times more likely than white children to be labelled cognitively impaired. When Latoya walked into Seth’s first special-education classroom, she said, “I did not see one white child. All I saw was black boys.”
Photograph by LaToya Ruby Frazier for The New Yorker

“No, you do not,” Richardson said. “Life is a wonder.”

In Cherry’s third month at Pathways, she hit Seth. Seth had taken off his shoes again. Williams-Brown shoved them back on, saying, “I ain’t gonna have no mercy.” Crying, Seth bolted toward Cherry, who was facing the sink, and slammed into her body. Cherry was startled, and she turned around and hit him four times on the arm and the head. He fell to the floor, and she hit him three more times. MaKenzie watched from a few feet away.

Cherry wanted to resign that night, but, with a mortgage to pay, she continued. When she arrived the next morning, Williams-Brown was chatting with Phyllis Rambo. The conversation turned to the movie “The Exorcist.” The film tells the story of a twelve-year-old girl with an inexplicable disease whose severity her mother doesn’t appreciate. “See, her mama was in denial,” Williams-Brown said. “And that’s when they got to—well, have you ever heard of an exorcism?” Williams-Brown said that the mother, after talking to a priest, “realized that there’s more we have to do for this little girl than just medicating.”

“So let’s take our two students to the priest,” Cherry said. She told Rambo how Seth had charged toward her the day before. “I thought he was the little devil or something,” she said. The two aides laughed.

“That boy totally got me out of my element,” she went on. “I got to reënact this.” She stood up from her desk, walked to the classroom sink, and imitated herself raising her arm and striking him. “I forgot that I was in this class,” Cherry told the aides. “I forgot that I was in the school here, with the camera. I forgot that this is somebody else’s child. I forgot I was a teacher.”

A few minutes later, Seth walked into the room. The school bus had just dropped him off.

“Your shoes—they stay on your feet today!” Williams-Brown told him. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes,” he said, in a soft, hoarse voice. He sat at a table in the center of the room and ate a Pop-Tart.

The three women began to criticize Latoya for not giving him medication. “He is already, what, six years old?” Rambo said. “She should have gotten him on young.”

Seth stood up from his chair and made a deep, wordless noise.
“This is going to make the most amazing driftwood table.”

“Sit down,” Williams-Brown told him. He sat down.

“I look at it like this,” Williams-Brown went on. “This is his mama’s fault. He is a product of his environment.”

Williams-Brown added that Seth’s father wasn’t “bringing anything to the table.” She said, “It’s partly his fault for having a child like that.”

“Not only is nothing happening at home, but nothing is happening here, either,” Cherry said. “Because this isn’t school.”

Shortly after Cherry hit Seth, MaKenzie began telling her teachers that she was scared. She sometimes said it more than a dozen times a day. Seth learned the words, too. Nine days after Cherry hit him, he sat at a computer, watching a music video about a tractor. “I’m scared,” he told Williams-Brown.

“You ain’t scared,” she said.

“I’m scared,” he said again.

“Look, did you become MaKenzie?” she asked him. “Don’t be trying to use her antics. You ain’t scared of nothing.”

Later that day, Seth had refined his vocabulary. “She hit me,” he said, while sitting at a table with Williams-Brown and Cherry.

“Who hit you?” Cherry asked.

A Confederate statue that stands near the Decatur County Board of Education, in Bainbridge. Disability-advocacy groups have filed a lawsuit alleging that the state “discriminates against thousands of Georgia public school students with disabilities” by “segregating them in a network of unequal and separate institutions.”

“Cherry,” Seth said.

Cherry seemed not to realize that he was saying her name. “Who hit you?” she asked again.

“You,” he said.

That afternoon, Wallace, their supervisor, stopped by. “Hi, y’all, how are you doing?” she said brightly, from the hallway. “Good,” Cherry said, without conviction. Wallace kept walking. It was the only time Wallace came to the classroom in all the surveillance footage I watched.

“You’re running away,” Cherry said after Wallace had passed. “Come on in and help.”

At the end of the week, at Wallace’s request, Cherry sent her a chart listing nine times in two days that Seth had been sent to Cool Down, usually for the same reason: “non-compliant.” Wallace was concerned about the amount of time he spent there, and she began watching footage of the classroom, taking notes as she watched. “Stop the power struggle with the shoe,” she wrote. “Tone—harsh, mean.” When she reviewed footage from October 10th, she saw Cherry imitating herself hitting Seth. She rewound to the previous day to watch what Cherry was reënacting.

Cherry and Williams-Brown were told to report to the office of the superintendent of the school district for a meeting the next day. The superintendent, George Kornegay, played Cherry the video of her hitting Seth, and she told him she had been asking for help since she’d been hired. Cherry and Williams-Brown agreed to resign. In an e-mail to the county board of education, Kornegay wrote, “I regret that this incident happened, but I truly don’t know how it could have been foreseen or avoided.” Kornegay told me that Seth’s classroom was not representative of the Pathways schools.

Latoya was shown a clip of the video a few days later and wanted to pull Seth out of school. But her sister Yvette, the high-school teacher, told her, “Make them do what they are supposed to do. Make them give him his education.”

Richardson, the substitute aide, filled in for Seth and MaKenzie’s class with the help of rotating substitutes. After three and a half weeks, Wallace couldn’t find enough teachers, so she told parents at Pathways not to send their children to school that day. “I can’t continue like this,” she wrote to Kornegay. “Something bad has already happened, and I am worried there might be more.” Kornegay admonished her, writing, “I believe we are failing to provide FAPE”—the right to a free appropriate public education, which is guaranteed by IDEA. A month earlier, the Georgia Advocacy Office, together with the Arc of the United States, a disability-rights organization, had filed a class-action lawsuit, alleging that the state “discriminates against thousands of Georgia public school students with disabilities” by “segregating them in a network of unequal and separate institutions.”

MaKenzie’s mother, Erica, didn’t learn that her daughter’s teachers had been forced to resign, or why, until five weeks after they left. When a video of the hitting incident was played on a local news channel, MaKenzie heard the sound of Seth crying and called out, “Are they hurting my baby again?” The news program announced that Cherry had been charged with battery, assault, and cruelty to children. Williams-Brown had been charged with failing to report child abuse.

Erica decided to teach MaKenzie herself. “I’ll probably continue homeschooling her all the way through, which is going to be a”—she paused, unable to find a fitting word—“a journey,” she said softly. “I’d rather her be in school, but I’m scared.”

Cherry pleaded guilty. Bainbridge’s courthouse is across the street from the board of education, and both buildings overlook a small courtyard with two monuments dedicated to Confederate soldiers. At the sentencing hearing, the state solicitor general, Benjamin Harrell, a young, white attorney, played the clips of Cherry hitting Seth and reënacting the encounter the next day. “Praise the Lord for modern technology that allowed us to discover what was really going on in a school here,” he said.

When Cherry testified, she sounded as if she were talking to a job supervisor. “It was definitely inappropriate,” she said. “It was a mistake, and it happened, and it won’t happen again.”

Latoya could barely talk at the hearing, because she was crying so hard. “I no longer have a best friend, because one of those teachers was my best friend’s mama,” she testified. “She didn’t even come tell me. These people from Donalsonville—nobody came to my house.” When Harrell asked her what she thought Cherry’s sentence should be, she said, “I think that Ms. Cherry should get jail time.” She went on, “It’s sickening that two black women—and you already know the struggle that black people have—that you would do that to your own kind.”

The judge sentenced Cherry to a year in jail. Williams-Brown, who attended the hearing, said that, when she heard the sentence, “I cried and I cried and I cried and I cried and I cried.” She thought that Cherry wouldn’t have been punished so severely if she’d been white, but, she said, “I try not to get caught up in that.” Cherry’s mother, Pat Grant, told me, “I am just so discombobulated. My daughter didn’t get her master’s degree to babysit a child. She was on track to become a principal.”

Phyllis Rambo, who had worked for the school district for nearly two decades, was fired. Williams-Brown, who also pleaded guilty, was sentenced to probation. Harrell told me, “I saw a lot of outrage that there wasn’t more that could be done against them. People around here said, specifically, that all three women in the video were equally bad. They were saying that they should get life. Or even death.”

In an e-mail to the superintendent, Wallace complained that Harrell was “out of control,” and said that people were calling Rambo on the phone and threatening her. Rambo’s daughter Daneisha told me, “It’s tragic. Both parties are hurting—the guilty party and the not-guilty party.”

Latoya rarely left her house. “We all live in the same community, and—ooh, it’s the worst feeling I’ve ever felt,” she said. Her sister-in-law overheard women at church saying that Latoya should be ashamed of herself for ruining her neighbors’ careers. Her brother Nathan, who works at a jail, said that he heard a correction officer telling another officer, “If I were that teacher, I probably would have done the same thing.”

When I visited Cherry in jail, she had been there three months, and had lost twenty-three pounds. Her mother had moved into her house to take care of her daughter, who was nine years old and growing so quickly that, Cherry said, she had “gained the weight that I lost.” Her daughter visited once a week and spoke to her for an hour through a pane of glass. Williams-Brown had visited during Cherry’s first week in jail, but Cherry hasn’t heard from her since. “I can’t mentally get myself to go,” Williams-Brown told me.

I was taken aback by Cherry’s beauty. She had a short pixie haircut and wore navy-blue jail scrubs. We sat at a table in a small cinder-block room, and, for three hours, she methodically narrated each disappointment at Pathways. When she got to the day that she hit Seth, she walked to the corner of the cell, telling me, “This would be the sink,” and imitated herself washing her hands. “And then this force came from behind me,” she said. For the second time, she reënacted hitting Seth. It was as if she were still trying to figure out what exactly she had done to him. She said that both times she’d been shown the video, in the superintendent’s office and at her sentencing hearing, she hadn’t been able to watch.

Seth was calmer at home than he was at school. When Latoya took him to the Gathering Place, a church in an old supermarket, he closed his eyes, bowed his head, and hummed along to songs.

Cherry recounted the previous half year with almost no reference to her personal life; even when she talked about her regrets, she described them through the lens of professional development. She spoke at length about the support that she expected to be in place for teachers, and said that, without it, “I just had an immediate, instinctual reaction to Seth—it was like I had turned into his mom.” When I asked her about her daughter, she said, “She’s O.K. My mom does a real good job with her. Hold on.” She walked out of the room, toward the bathroom. She came back with a piece of toilet paper three feet long, sat down, bent over her knees, and sobbed.

After a few minutes, she gathered herself completely. She understood that she would never get another job in education, and was contemplating working toward a counselling degree or writing a book called “From the Classroom to the Jailhouse,” which would “help educators not find themselves in the same situation as me.”

Every night, at nine o’clock, Cherry led five or six other inmates in prayer. They sat in a circle and held hands. Cherry said that their requests were often the same: “My prayer is that my children will not be taken away from me.” All the inmates referred to one another by their first names, but they called her Ms. Cherry. She wasn’t sure why, since only a few of them knew that she had been a teacher.

In January, 2018, shortly after the Georgia Advocacy Office requested Seth’s records, the district allowed him to return to his neighborhood school. Leslie Lipson, the lawyer with the office, said that when she becomes involved in students’ cases, for possible inclusion in the class-action suit, the student is often transferred out of GNETS. (The state has filed a motion to dismiss the lawsuit. A spokesman for the attorney general said that, “as a rule of thumb, we are unable to comment on pending litigation.”)

Seth entered first grade at Seminole County Elementary School. His records there describe him as “unable to perform a task for 5 minutes without engaging in physically aggressive or otherwise inappropriate behaviors.” For “strengths,” his records say that he “has remarkable sense of rhythm.” After three weeks, he was suspended for spitting at his teacher. Latoya said that, in February, Seth pinched his teacher several times and was suspended a second time, for six days. Latoya asked MaKenzie’s mother to recommend a good homeschooling curriculum, and withdrew him from school.

In the past fifteen years, the number of black families in the country choosing to homeschool their children has more than doubled. Cheryl Fields-Smith, a professor at the University of Georgia, studies why black families in Georgia increasingly make this choice. “One of the dominant themes was a desire to protect their children from being labelled a troublemaker, or having a special-education label placed on them,” she told me. According to the Department of Education, students of color are roughly twice as likely to be identified as having an emotional disorder as white children and nearly three times as likely to be labelled cognitively impaired. (In 2015, four decades of research was challenged by a widely cited article in Educational Researcher, which argued that if environmental factors, such as poverty and single parenthood, are taken into account, students of color are actually underrepresented in special education. But many scholars have criticized the authors’ methodological choices, including the fact that they omitted gender from their analysis and used a data set that relied on teachers’ subjective assessments.)

Chris Vance, a special-education attorney in Atlanta, said that parents who can afford a lawyer’s fees are usually successful in fighting to prevent their children from going to GNETS. They will often hire a psychologist to analyze the student’s behavior in class and then draft a plan that allows the student to stay in the general classroom for most of the day and work with an aide who has been trained to understand how the student’s disability affects the way he learns. But, she said, “those who can’t afford an attorney will often homeschool their children, and so it becomes no education.”

Latoya begins Seth’s lessons at eight each morning with the song “Jesus Loves Me,” which he sings exuberantly, clapping and stomping his feet. On a recent morning, Latoya sat on the floor with a pile of frayed manila folders from Easy Peazy, an online Christian homeschooling curriculum that MaKenzie’s cousin uses. Latoya’s mother, who recently had a stroke, was on the sofa watching TV.

Latoya instructed Seth to recite words pictured on flash cards. Repeating the words required a vigorous windup: Seth arched his back, pumped his arms in the air, and then shouted out the words so loudly that his five-year-old cousin, Keylan, who came to the lesson uninvited, covered his ears. When Latoya told him that he’d done a good job, he clapped and yelled, “Yay, yay, yay, yay!” The celebration went on for too long. “Learn!” his sister, Sahrenety, who was on summer vacation, told him. “Do your work.” She sat on the couch next to Latoya’s niece, who also gave Seth pep talks.

After declaring that “I” is for igloo, Seth began rolling on the ground. Latoya called her brother Lawrence, and put him on speakerphone. He usually came over to play basketball when the lesson was over, around ten-thirty. “I won’t come if you don’t learn,” Lawrence repeatedly warned Seth. Seth got to “K” before everyone gave up. Latoya was sweating, and her niece was snoring loudly on the couch. A few of Latoya’s customers were already in the kitchen.

Latoya realizes that she cannot keep homeschooling Seth, and she plans to move back to Atlanta next month. She wants Seth to attend a public school where the day is structured and predictable and the classroom aides understand the sensory triggers for his outbursts. She doesn’t mind if he’s in a special-education classroom, provided he has some contact with nondisabled students during the day. She’s not even opposed to the idea of eventually placing him in a school for children with autism, as long as the segregation serves a therapeutic purpose. She discovered a specialized school north of Atlanta, the Lionheart School, that she aspires to send Seth to one day, if she can afford it. The director of the school told me, “When people talk about ‘behaviors,’ the assumption is that the child is doing something bad, but we see behaviors as communicative. If the child is punished for screaming, then we’ve missed an opportunity to get to know this child and what he is telling us.”

More than anything, Latoya wants to get out of Donalsonville. She told me, “I feel like everybody here is looking at me, like, Why would she do that to those teachers? She knows her son is bad.”

Whenever Latoya goes to town, she must drive past Phyllis Rambo’s house. Recently, when we passed it, her sister Cecelia, who was driving, became sombre. “That’s Phyllis,” she said, pointing to a one-story brick house. Behind the house was an old swing set where Latoya used to play with Rambo’s daughter Daneisha.

Latoya had started talking to Daneisha again, after Daneisha wrote her a letter describing how important their friendship was to her. For months, friends from their neighborhood had been urging her to forgive Rambo, too, and over time Latoya had begun to soften toward her. “I think Phyllis was basically just trying to fit in,” she told me. “She needed people to vent to at work.” (Rambo did not want to talk to me.)

Latoya had never been close with Melissa Williams-Brown—Latoya described her as having been, in high school, part of the “fancy crowd, the kids who basically have what you call a good life”—but, as she had learned more about the GNETS system, she had begun to see Williams-Brown’s mistakes in a different light. “I’m not upset with Melissa,” she told me. “I’m not even upset with Ms. Cherry. I’m just upset with the fact that, hey, if that was your”—referring to Wallace—“child, it wouldn’t have happened like that.” She cried quietly. “The black women got the blame. I just don’t feel like it’s right. You’ve got three teachers being slandered when they were only doing what you allowed them to do.”

In June, Seth and MaKenzie had a playdate. MaKenzie often asked for Seth, but she lived nearly an hour away, and they hadn’t seen each other for seven months. When Erica parked in front of Latoya’s house, MaKenzie looked up from a magazine and saw Seth sitting under the carport, beside a washing machine.

“I love you, Seth,” she said, as she walked up the driveway. “I love this little boy.” She combed her fingers through his dreadlocks and commented on how long they had grown. He looked away, smiling. Then he walked toward his uncle, who was mowing the lawn. MaKenzie stood still, wringing her hands. “What’s wrong with you?” she said gently.

Erica apologized to Latoya in advance for the language that MaKenzie might use. “When she’s nervous, her words really come out,” she said. “Whatever is on Kenzie’s mind she’s going to tell you.” It quickly became clear that one of the words that MaKenzie had difficulty controlling was the N-word. Erica was accustomed to people making comments like “That little girl needs her butt tore up.” But Latoya assured her that it was fine, even when Seth began repeating the word.

In the carport, they listened to the country song “Meant to Be,” by Bebe Rexha and the Florida Georgia Line. MaKenzie stood under a tree and swayed her arms in the air. Seth walked over to her and began doing the two-step, rocking his hips and shoulders from side to side. Their rhythms were familiar to each other; they had often danced together at school, while their teachers were talking. On Cherry’s last day at Pathways, MaKenzie had sashayed toward Seth, stood behind him, and begun moving his arms to the beat of a nursery song, leading him in a kind of square dance.

Throughout the afternoon, MaKenzie repeatedly told Seth that she loved him and kissed his cheek or the top of his head. Latoya took solace in believing that MaKenzie’s warmth may have counteracted the harsh tone of his teachers. She was less concerned about the physical violence than about the effects of listening to them talk. “He can hear five conversations at a time and remember every word—that’s one of his autistic traits,” she told me. “If you call him bad, he’s going to believe it. He’s going to become exactly who you say he is.” ♦

I Have a Headache

That old meme has been used for years by women to get out sex and frankly it doesn't work. Men are convinced that all you need is a good fuck to clear up anything that ails you.. anything and everything. This shit has to be in the DNA as it crosses all the lines where men meet. We have maniacs killing for sex with a 1000 virgins, men fucking a glory hole as to avoid any intimacy, men who drug women to fuck them, men who shove drinks down their gullet in which to shove their dicks down them later, men who throw women in bushes, down wells, in basements, in trunks of cars, in their own homes and rape them repeatedly. This is what men apparently do to unwind.  Good to know.

Women drink, take drugs, take to prostitution, fuck men professing they own their sexuality, become adult film stars, post endless photos of themselves as sex bots to attract men.  Women act out, dance and wear clothes that encourages men and act provocatively to entice and seduce men.  Then when someone condemns that behavior they are enraged.   Well men are stupid ladies but they don't need encouragement they just need opportunity.  Good to know.

Women who are mothers are raped, sisters raped, daughters raped, wives raped, aunts raped, grandmothers raped, friends raped, co-workers raped, and the only equivalent that men seem to find is via Priests.  Good to know.

Men do rape boys, they are not gay, they are Humbert Humbert. But boys rape other boys in locker rooms, in secluded places and do it as some type of initiation and outlet.  Good to know.

Another ongoing drama is taking place today, Bill Cosby is sentenced with the issue of him being declared a sex offender and being placed on the registry.  Well again if he was just an ordinary black man regardless of age/health he would be on that list and living in a trailer park so fast your head would spin.  I doubt at this point it matters as the jail sentence is akin for life to Mr. Cosby, which does that mean cruel and unusual?  The Judge declared him a predator. Gosh a little late but hey whatever.  But  would any woman in her right mind take a drink from that man?  Then again I am never shocked as regardless of all of this they would as they are special/different/it won't happen to me.  Sure. Good to know.

Then we have the Kavanaugh saga which is now up to three women with tales of concern that centered on the issues of drinking during his college days where the good Catholic boy lived up to the Catholic mantra - take it and they will like it.  Say a prayer of forgiveness in that confessional and remember a Madonna is only your mother not the mother of your children and whores drink and go to parties with boys so have at it.    And the Moron, the Fucking Moron, the Idiot in the White House who has his own strange issues regarding women supports this white elitist fuck who simply refuses to step down for the good of country or family.  Dragging us through the mud is Congresses job and they will do it as only old white men can.  Good to know.

I read this piece in The Guardian by the idiot girl who created the infamous slam book called, The Shitty Media in Men List.  Here is the deal have some guts and face those whom you accuse.  As my mother used to say:  He who accuses, excuses. But she makes some salient points and she too did pay for the idiocy as many of the men have.  So Et Tu Brutus?    The reality is that online shaming and bullying done anonymously is unacceptable and it was only of late when I decided to name the two Attorneys who did nothing to help me when I faced the same issues that many of the women in #MeToo faced. The difference was I quite clear with them.  I tried to communicate with one of them, Ted Vosk, prior to his entrance into rehab and he threatened me with Police intervention and cried about how in his defense of me he could have been sanctioned!  So yes white elite men are out of touch and I have nothing to say to either attorney, Kevin Trombold or Ted Vosk, as I have to their face and well they did nothing.   Well cashed the check which apparently Ted's share went to drugs which may explain some of his insanity.  Note: Some

To try to rationalize, explain, justify and excuse this shit as the boring rambling piece in Harper's does on romance, being a quad as a teen, movies, the era, feminism, hippies and my personal favorite the book Lolita.   Dude really? Good to know.

I had already a heads up when t The New York Times Review of Books landed on my door as the editor had already been fired.   He sounds like an asshole and this shit could not have happened to a better dude frankly. The essay by the whiny Jian Ghomeshi was of course excuse blame making lesson number #1. There is your hashtag.    Rock on asshole and he is Canadian no less.  Gee and they have such a nice reputation.  I know differently, was married to one.  He was an asshole.  So Canada not as nice as you think. Good to know.

The insane self serving and blame seeking seems to be the new posture of men in America.  The nice thing is that it is not just the provenance of White men.  Here in Nashville the Director of Schools is Black and he seems to have taken the posture of lying and abusing Journalists during a Press Conference in Trumpian Style.  It is a new style since the prior encounters where he was forced to be confronted with sexual assault allegations of staff, budget discrepancies and other problems faced in the Nashville School District threw down the race card, so now just whine, abuse, belittle and say nothing of import it is the new way.  Good to know.  

Men are you infuriated by my remarks?  Good.  You need to know that you are responsible for this and only you can fix this shit.  I am exhausted hearing about it.  Fix this you fuckers you are such great leaders, so wise and so much smarter than us the Whores, the Madonna's, the Mothers.  We are not all three we get it.  I remember the expression, "Lady in the Living Room, Whore in the Bedroom" as some type of marital advice to keep a man.   Well here is mine - GO FUCK YOURSELF!  I have a headache.   It's good for you to know