Local Media is Important

LOCAL media has a lot of responsibility and that is not taken lightly.

I have noticed a growing trend in Middle Tennessee and far beyond. Quite often after a story is reported, published or broadcast, family members of the person arrested and named in an article, etc., will call the local media outlet demanding the story be removed.

Family will often state, "This story will cause too much harm to his/ her children, or mother or father, I insist you remove it - he/she is addicted to (name your drug)."

The fact is that he/she who committed the crime is the one causing damage to the family, not the media. The addiction is shaping their life in a horrible way. The crime is the aftermath of the addiction. The media has a job of making that addiction / crime known so others listening, watching or reading don't continue their narrow road and instead get help.

It could easily be argued that the majority of those arrested for serious crimes that are reported in the media have an addiction or a troubling and sad past. They need help, obviously.

Other times local media will receive a call or email suggesting that the family member arrested has a severe mental illness. While that maybe true, so do the majority of those arrested. The United States Department of Justice reports, “64 percent of local jail inmates, 56 percent of state prisoners and 45 percent of federal prisoners have symptoms of serious mental illnesses.” Again, a problem that needs to be reported so that change can happen.

If stories of such are NOT reported, then how will the public know of the issues we as a society need to work on?

For example, if someone is charged with DUI number 6, it should be reported by local media. If it is not reported, how would you realize that we have a problem with the way alcohol cases are treated by the laws we currently have in place? If it were not reported, how would you be reminded that many people in our society have extreme addiction and help is again needed.

Another example, when synthetic drugs were sold in gas stations as bath salts and persons on bath salts were arrested after getting high and randomly attacking and literally eating people, it was reported in local media. If things like that were not reported, then laws would not have been enacted to end the sale of bath salts in gas stations. Rehabilitation centers would not have known about some of the current drugs being used as swiftly had they not been reported in the local media first.

Local news is powerful and potentially life changing for the good, if used properly. It allows the residents of the community to help others like national media cannot do. It allows for big issues to be made known, laws to be changed and programs be developed to help the community as a whole as the result of the arrest of only a few.

One more thing... It allows those who are arrested for serious crimes to publicly choose to make a change for the good or to continue on their current road of destruction. Being publicly known means that the complaining family can fully address their loved one instead of hushing a hard conversation. Perhaps the problems have been kept behind closed doors for years and now it is out in the open. The story may create more pain in the present, but perhaps real recovery in the future - if properly addressed. It will also allow his/her children to know the true dangers of the addicted which means family can come along and fully support the children before that child makes life altering decisions for the negative.

As for how criminal names or stories are handled on social media with no heart whatsover, that is a problem of those commenting. Social media can be harsh because of people commenting without thinking.

I believe we should all take a step back before we comment and remember that we are about to comment on a real person who may have a very sad past of physical abuse, sexual abuse or an addiction. The person arrested could have a mental illness that has gone undiagnosed for years and years. Life is real and sometimes really hard.

I'll step down from my soap box now.

I took this photo in Nashville in 2015, I found it interesting how so many people are anxious to photograph what they believe to be newsworthy and comment about it on social media so quickly.

Psalms 96

She is a domestic violence survivor in Middle Tennessee and she is holding her Bible open to one of her favorite verses, Psalms 96:

1 Sing to the LORD a new song; sing to the LORD, all the earth.

2 Sing to the LORD, praise his name; proclaim his salvation day after day.

3 Declare his glory among the nations, his marvelous deeds among all peoples.

4 For great is the LORD and most worthy of praise; he is to be feared above all gods.

5 For all the gods of the nations are idols, but the LORD made the heavens.

6 Splendor and majesty are before him; strength and glory are in his sanctuary.

7 Ascribe to the LORD, all you families of nations, ascribe to the LORD glory and strength.

8 Ascribe to the LORD the glory due his name; bring an offering and come into his courts.

9 Worship the LORD in the splendor of his holiness; tremble before him, all the earth.

10 Say among the nations, “The LORD reigns.” The world is firmly established, it cannot be moved; he will judge the peoples with equity.

11 Let the heavens rejoice, let the earth be glad; let the sea resound, and all that is in it.

12 Let the fields be jubilant, and everything in them; let all the trees of the forest sing for joy.

13 Let all creation rejoice before the LORD, for he comes, he comes to judge the earth. He will judge the world in righteousness and the peoples in his faithfulness.

Domestic Violence

His hands helped to defend domestic violence. Today, he writes music and learns from the past.

Domestic Violence has a massive impact on society, all of which is negative. Did you realize, “Most cases of domestic violence are never reported to the police.” Source: Frieze, I.H., Browne, A. (1989) Violence in Marriage.

It's a family business

He is holding up a silver chain explaining the difference of his jewelry verses the jewelry many tourist buy on the streets. “This is real, see the weight difference,” he said as he weighed the chain offered in his store and then weighed a chain that is sold on the street.  

Visiting the small shops is always a pleasure in cities throughout Mexico as you can see the definition of family. In this case, he works with both his mother and father at the family run business. His daughter watched TV as he waited on customers in the store. This is true for many of the businesses there.

Selling Braids

She was walking up and down the beach located on Isla Mujeres, which is a 20 minute boat ride from Cancun, while holding the head of a white female in her right hand. At first glance, it may appear to be a bit odd. But, on closer inspection the head was simply modeling the braids that she aims to put on long haired tourist for a small fee. The money that she makes helps to feed her family.

A large pizza

This fella was selling handmade jewelry by the roadside in Mexico. It appeared as if he had been there all day when I saw him at about 4pm. So, I gave him a large pizza. He chowed down instantly. Love doing little unexpected stuff like that.

Isla Mujeres

While the population is fairly small, so is the island. 

The area is called Isla Mujeres, which is Spanish for “Island of Women.” Evidently, the island was sacred to the Maya goddess of childbirth and medicine. 

The exact measurement of the small island in the Caribbean Sea is 4.3 miles long and 2,130 feet wide. It is home to about 12,600 residents. The Island of Women is 8.1 miles off the Yucatan Peninsula coast. 

For Cubans trying to get into the United States, this small island is one of their first stopping points to rest. If they make it to the island, they only have to take a ferry to the Mexican mainland. From there, Cubans travel through Mexico in hopes of reaching the US border and then crossing. 

This is one of the 12,000+ residents on the island.

She can now run free

Hands of a Domestic Violence survivor. She wrote:

“My children saw them first. "How did you get those bruises, Mom?" I looked in the mirror and saw the ring of dark splotches around my upper arms, fingerprints from where he'd grabbed and shaken me the night before. But, he didn't hit me.

My head was often tender from being banged against a wall.

My hip sported a large bruise and it hurt to walk after he shoved me hard to the ground.

My back bled from a cut I received during a struggle. But, I told myself, it was just a small cut.

During sex, he choked me and made me do things I was ashamed of. I was scared; I fought him; it did not matter; he did not stop.

But he wasn't violent, right? He didn't hit me.

My husband's rages occurred multiple times a week, sometimes during the day, usually at night, and lasted for hours. His nose would touch mine as he screamed profanities in my face. He threw things, punched walls, and spit on me. These were his favorite things to say: I was worthless garbage, a whore, a waste, a piece of trash, so terrible in bed that no man would ever want to touch me, a c-nt. My husband told me that I was such a nightmare he'd have to kill himself to get away from me. Then, as I began to grow depressed, he worked on convincing me I needed to kill my own self. I will never forget the first time he looked me straight in the eye and very calmly and matter-of-factly stated, "Why are you still breathing? You're nothing but trash. You should be dead. You need to go kill yourself." As this went on, I began to believe him until it became absolute truth in my mind. I should be dead.

In a 2-3 year period, I went from being happy and healthy to suicidal and extremely ill. I rarely slept, vomited up most of my meals, lost weight, and had no strength. I was forced into a medical leave from work, and my doctor banned me from any form of exercise as my body needed every bit of energy to keep alive. I had been a runner, a dancer, an outdoor enthusiast. I was now a shell, someone God never intended me to be.

I don't know that I ever would have left him on my own. I did not recognize the violence for what it was, and I was too ashamed to tell anyone what was going on. It took a gun-related incident to finally end it. I had no idea how physically and emotionally sick I had gotten until he was out of my life. The suicidal thoughts vanished. I am now sleeping, eating, and not throwing up. I've gained weight. My health is slowly coming back. Recently I was able to lace up my shoes and go running again. My kids and I have peace. I laugh, and I laugh, and I laugh. I am filled with the joy of the Lord, for I am now free!”

Before I left she told me that she spent many nights sleeping or hiding in the bushes next to the entrance of her middle class neighborhood. Other nights, she would sleep in her car while parked in a well-lit parking lot.

Never Again

Hands of a domestic violence survivor - Middle Tennessee. 

"Just tell the nurse you slipped and fell
It starts to sting as it starts to swell
She looks at you, she wants the truth
It's right out there in the waiting room with those hands
Lookin' just as sweet as he can, never again"
-Nickelback, Never Again

Jesus Freaks

“I was ordained a minister the year after I graduated from high school by the Church of God Jesus Freaks,” he told me. “That was in 1971,” he said with a smile.

He Humiliated Me

Domestic Violence in Tennessee... She wrote:

"He raped me, he beat the crap out of me, he humiliated me, he stripped me of my identity, and many times left me crying on the floor.

I have been to jail on Easter, it marks 1 year Sunday, I went and they let him go. I called them and they took me.

But, through it all I always screamed and begged God to help me get away. And he kept his promise!

I am free and none of it matters anymore! He is the last dark secret in my closet and I am physically, emotionally, and spiritually set free because of God whispering to me, You Got This!

That is my story."

Domestic Violence: Like a tree, we grow

Like trees, we continue to grow despite the struggles we face in life. The same is true for those who are victims of domestic violence. Once the violence is in your past, you can continue growing in a positive way.

This is a photo that captures the hands of an anonymous domestic violence survivor in Middle Tennessee.

Former Social Worker Alice Walker once wrote, "In nature, nothing is perfect and everything is perfect. Trees can be contorted, bent in weird ways, and they're still beautiful."

Walker, who worked as a social worker in the 1960's, took part in the Civil Rights movement in Mississippi. She also won the 1983 Pulitzer Prize for her 1982 novel entitled, "The Color Purple."

Domestic Violence: Our Hands

Her past Domestic Violence... She wrote:

“Hands are so important. You see, they can teach us love and compassion or total fear.

I have used my hands to care for the sick and elderly for 28 years in nursing as a tech. I know what kindness looks like when you care for someone.

What I did not realize was for 13 years I had not shown myself kindness. I did finally one day no longer desire to live in abuse and I remember using my hands to pack my kids clothes and toys, turn off location devices and drive to a shelter. This was new and I deserved peace away from the abuse.

Abuse is not love nor is tolerance to abuse. Please love yourself by no longer allowing abuse in your life or others’ lives.”

Domestic Violence: Hands

Her hands, which have always been used to serve others, were busily making spaghetti. However, those same hands have been used in an attempt to block punches from her former husband. Those hands were used to open a prescription pill bottle in an attempt to end the suffering during an eight hour ordeal that started on a drive home.

After she downed the prescription pills in an effort to numb or end the physical pain, her husband yelled that if she died while he was hitting her, no one would find her body.

Looking back to December of 2016, the same man traded his wife for crack cocaine. He then got angry at her for his actions, which was when a beating that lasted for eight hours occurred.

During those eight hours she was punched in the face and chunks of her hair were pulled out. The incident started on the roadway leaving the man’s home where her husband pawned her off. She was beat on the side of the road until a truck driver stopped to offer the couple a ride as they were out of gas. The truck driver failed to realize that the husband was doing the beating.

She wrote, “A truck driver picked us up to get gas and he told the truck driver he picked me up because I got beat up, our 4 year old witnessed most of what happened. At one point he cried and his dad told him he better shut up or he will do the same to him. We finally got home and he knocked me around the bathroom. I was lying on the floor and he kicked me in my face. I tried killing myself by downing some pills. The last thing I remember before passing out was him choking me.”

She closed with, “Now I know that if you get hit once, get out.”

From Michigan and never going back

I often meet people who have a face that is covered in tattoos and I think to myself that they are likely hiding from who they want to be or from who they are. I see sadness in the eyes of so many who live on the streets of America.

“I’m from Detroit, Michigan,” he told me while standing outside of a truck stop. While looking away he said, “I will never go back.”

As for the tattoos, “I was going to get my eyebrows tattooed like a clown, because life’s a joke and you have to laugh – if you don’t laugh then somethings wrong with you.”

“The reality of the other person is not in what he reveals to you, but in what he cannot reveal to you. Therefore, if you would understand him, listen not to what he says but rather what he does not say.” - Kahlil Gibran (1883-1931)

The roots grow stronger

The amazingly talented Dolly Parton once stated, “Storms make trees take deeper roots.” I think that can also be said for humans. We all have been through stormy periods of our life, some storms lasting longer than others. For many, domestic violence is like an ongoing storms that fails to subside. However, when the storm passes, you have much deeper roots and are able to overcome many obstacles that once held you back.

After I shot this photo, I asked her to write about her past. Below is what she said:

“I remember the overwhelming sense of relief as I escaped. No more walking on eggshells, hiding bruises, constant insults. I knew it would be hard rebuilding life after but it was so worth it. Finally free from that grip....Freedom! Free to be me, free to find my way without fear, hurt, heartache and pain.

To all the survivors and those that feel trapped and want out......you are beautiful. You are strong. You are worthy of self-respect, dignity, love the right way.

Getting away isn't easy, but I can promise you that it is worth it! Reach out to other survivors, to the resources out there.

There is a quote from the book ‘Why Does He do that,’ that I clung to afterwards. The quote read, “When people conclude that anger causes abuse, they are confusing cause and effect. Ray was not abusive because he was angry; he was angry because he was abusive. Abusers carry attitudes that produce fury.”. That quote helped me to realize it wasn't me and what I did. It was him and who he was.”

The hands of a 13 year old survivor

Domestic Violence: While taking this photo she told me, "I remember hiding in the closet." Today, she is 13 years old. 

“Childhood should be carefree, playing in the sun; not living a nightmare in the darkness of the soul.” 
― Dave Pelzer, A Child Called "It"

Hands

Hands are an amazing thing when you think about all that your hands have been through. Below are the hands of a woman who is raising three children while living in a specialized home for victims of domestic violence.

I am currently working on a big project with the local Domestic Violence Shelter and we are focusing on the hands of those who have suffered from domestic violence.

Hands tell a story, much like the eyes of someone suffering. Hands show scars and life in so many different ways.

I hope to post more details in the weeks to come. I am just excited to be working on such a project.

"I looked at my hands to see if I was the same person. There was such a glory over everything. The sun came up like gold through the trees, and I felt like I was in heaven." - Harriet Tubman, Conductor of the Underground Railroad (1820 - 1913)

He is now a registered sex offender after being abused

A sex offender by the name of James who lives in Middle Tennessee will soon find himself behind bars after violating his probation. He told us that he will likely spend the next six years in a small cell because of his actions.

James, whose last name I agreed not to use, said that more needs to be done in rehabilitating offenders. He further suggested that more needs to be done for those who are victims of sex abuse and treatment should be readily available.

The man whom I spoke to said that he was sexually abused by at least three adults as a child and the abuse was long term. As he grew older he never told anyone about the abuse and he levitated towards pornography.

Many victims of sexual abuse turn to drugs, alcohol, sex addiction or pornography as opposed to seeking help, so his addiction was not uncommon. That addiction later turned more dark as he started to have a fascination with child pornography. With his addiction in mind he went to his church for help...  However, the church basically shewed James away which grew his appetite for pornography.

After a separation from his wife and a lack of anyone to turn to, his addiction turned into real children, which was his next step. Luckily, he was arrested before real children came face to face with his pain.

Today James wants to be a voice for the abused and the accused so that others can get proper help before it is too late. 

While sitting in the California San Quentin State Prison he wrote:

Dear Lord,

How have I been so blind for so long? How did I ever think… ever conceive… that I understood your Grace?

I thought it a flickering candle, but have found it as strong and blinding as the sun.

I looked at it as an ember, a glowing coal of warmth. Instead, I’ve felt its inferno, roaring, raging, consuming me.

When I have said that your Grace is sufficient for me, I mistook it to be sufficient like a crust of bread thrown to a starving man. Enough to live on, but no more.

Instead, I find it as sufficient as the oceans are to fill a cup. The deserts to give a grain of sand or the forest to supply a single leaf.

For yours is an extravagant sufficiency.

Forgive me, Lord, for the sin of pride of thinking that your Grace could be understood. I could no sooner capture sunlight in my hands or the winds within my arms. I am so grateful that I do not have to rationalize your Grace to receive it, or comprehend it to be covered by it.

Thank you, Lord, for showing me just how little that I really understand. I can’t wait to spend my lifetime discovering how much I didn’t know.

Amen.

To hear the audio interview with James, click this LINK.

Tupelo Honey of Asheville, NC

A master chef at work inside Tupelo Honey of Asheville, NC.