The One

This past Winter I had the opportunity to meet a number of interesting and beautiful people in the country of Uganda. But among all of the new people I met, the one who left the largest impact upon me, was a young girl I interviewed in a dirty and run-down Orphanage just outside of Kampala. Let's call her Mikay.

Mikay, like many other young children in Uganda, has fallen victim to the atrocities of the War in the North. While peacefully living a simple life in her village with her family, Joseph Kony's rebel army quickly thrust her into a nightmare. They burned her village down and she and her family were forced to flee into the bush for safety. They lived there in abject fear for over a year, terrified that each new day would bring with it the realization that the rebel army knew where they were. And one day, I'm sad to say, she met that fear face to face. The rebels found her and her family, killed one of her parents, and took her away. She doesn't know where her other parent is or her siblings. She served as a sex slave and domestic for Kony's militants for over 2 years, until she escaped one day amid a skirmish with the UPDF.


Returning to the Bush for safety, Mikay ran into a childhood friend who offered her a chance for hope: "Let's go to Kampala and get jobs and an apartment together." Overjoyed at a chance for a new life, Mikay gladly assented. But upon her arrival in Kampala, she was sold by her "friend" into prostitution. This beautiful young girl was a child prostitute in the streets of Kampala for what seemed like forever. Her escape from this new nightmare was being sold into domestic servitude. After being moved from house to house in the Kampala underground slave trade, she finally lifted her cries up to God: "Lord," she cried, "I have never stolen from anyone, lied to anyone, or cheated anyone because I know that it's wrong. But I'm starving and alone and tired and if you can't help me, I would rather die." She was soon kicked out of the house she was working in, and found herself once again on the streets.


The One
By Sharon Cohn - Vice President, Interventions

Rather unoriginally, I suppose, Mother Teresa is one of my heroes. She exemplified better than perhaps anyone, the significance of the one. When a priest was trying to discourage her from a dangerous mission, she replied, “It is not an idea, Father, I think it is our duty…If I didn’t do it that time [pick up the one] I would never had picked up the 42,000 in Calcutta.”


I think back to this sometimes when I am asked how I keep from being overwhelmed by the sheer enormity of the injustices we labor to combat. Or when I am challenged with grim statistics and asked, “So you have rescued hundreds of bonded slaves in the past few months. There are tens of millions still enslaved. What is the point?”


The point is the one. Let me tell you about her. I met Simla* more than two years ago in May 2002 when I was assisting with my first brothel raid with IJM. Based on our information the police rescued six children and arrested one offender. Simla was the most reserved of the girls rescued that day. Her eyes darted with skepticism and distrust and she was loath to smile when I met her.


With good reason. Simla had been promised a job in a restaurant two-and-a-half years earlier, and had instead been taken to the brothel where she had been subjected to exploitation day and night without end. When our investigators first met her, she begged them to give a good report to the brothel keeper because she had been beaten severely the last time a customer had complained.


Simla and I walked back into the brothel together one hot day when the police took us to retrieve her few possessions. It was a painful glimpse into the life of a teenager enslaved, the bizarre juxtaposition of childhood and brutality, posters of teenage idols and bank ledgers of customers’ payments.


Why this one?
IJM has assisted in rescuing hundreds of girls from commercial sexual exploitation since Simla, some of whom I have come to know. So why do I want to write you about her? Simla’s story is not unique, except that, of course, it is. It is unique to Simla. She has plans and dreams just like you and I. Men and women conspired to crush her uniqueness and her value, but we are committed to seeking justice for her.


And so, too, for one little girl in a rock quarry in South Asia. Kani* wasn’t among the others when IJM went with the authorities to raid the quarry. As a matter of fact, our investigators did not know about her family and had not documented this case of slavery during the investigation. At the end of a successful raid, IJM staff members were leaving the quarry where 76 people had been freed from slavery. A desperate woman, Kani’s mother, began banging on the door of one of the cars in the caravan. She explained that her family had not been present for the investigation, but they wanted to be taken out of the quarry. She explained that Kani had been injured while working at the quarry. After inadequate medical care and a raging infection, her middle finger had been amputated just that day to save the rest of her arm.


IJM stopped the caravan and with the help of local police officers found the husband and the eight family members, including the young girl. The family had been working as bonded slaves in the quarry for three years trying to pay off a $400 US debt. The pleas of a desperate mother were heard and her family was freed. IJM staff members have been working with Kani to help prepare her for a more promising future. She’s now back in her native village with her family, attending school and getting the education she deserves.


To Simla and to Kani it mattered that IJM brought the hand of justice to them despite the massiveness of the problem of oppression. Not only is each victim the one, but we likewise can be the one. The one called, the one listening, the one willing, the one sent to bring freedom and justice to innocent ones who are suffering.


Being overwhelmed by the numbers is an indulgence the oppressed can ill afford. Thank you, dear friend, for your willingness to stand with us for each child, each woman and each man who longs for the chance of a new life of hope.

For a Kiss

conjuring up images of the past I yearn for
eyes of swirling life - hazelnut cosmos
look deeply into my soul each time I sleep
it is the future I turned my back on

fear and doubt draw their swords
into battle they go - love their casualty
hardened hearts still cry tears
weeping in silence behind frivolity's curtain

at a porcelain gallop you come - always
gentility arming your chivalry and passion
battle lines drawn you reach for your sword
victory is most ultimately thine my sweet

oh how i love thee

Dude Check This Little Girl

The Night Before Christmas - For Lawyers

Whereas, on or about the night prior to Christmas, there did occur at a certain improved piece of real property (hereinafter "the House") a general lack of stirring by all creatures therein, including, but not limited to, a mouse.

A variety of foot apparel, e.g. stocking, socks, etc., had been affixed by and around the chimney in said House in the hope and/or belief that St. Nick a.k.a. St. Nicholas a.k.a. Santa Claus (hereinafter "Claus") would arrive at sometime thereafter. The minor residents, i.e. the children, of the aforementioned House were located in their individual beds and were engaged in nocturnal hallucinations, i.e. dreams, wherein vision of confectionery treats, including, but not limited to, candies, nuts and/or sugar plums, did dance, cavort and otherwise appear in said dreams.

Whereupon the party of the first part (sometimes hereinafter referred to as "I"), being the joint owner in fee simple of the House with the party of the second part (hereinafter "Mamma"), and said Mamma had retired for a sustained period of sleep. (At such time, the parties were clad in various forms of headgear, e.g. kerchief and cap.)

Suddenly, and without prior notice or warning, there did occur upon the unimproved real property adjacent and appurtenant to said House, i.e. the lawn, a certain disruption of unknown nature, cause and/or circumstance. The party of the first part did immediately rush to a window in the House to investigate the cause of such disturbance. At that time, the party of the first part did observe, with some degree of wonder and/or disbelief, a miniature sleigh (hereinafter "the Vehicle") being pulled and/or drawn very rapidly through the air by approximately eight (8) reindeer. The driver of the Vehicle appeared to be and in fact was, the previously referenced Claus. Said Claus was providing specific direction, instruction and guidance to the approximately eight (8) reindeer and specifically identified the animal co-conspirators by name: Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, and Blitzen (hereinafter "the Deer"). (Upon information and belief, it is further asserted that an additional co-conspirator named "Rudolph" may have been involved.)

The party of the first part witnessed Claus, the Vehicle and the Deer intentionally and willfully trespass upon the roofs of several residences located adjacent to and in the vicinity of the House, and noted that the Vehicle was heavily laden with packages, toys and other items of unknown origin or nature. Suddenly, without prior invitation or permission, either express or implied, the Vehicle arrived at the House, and Claus entered said House via the chimney. Said Claus was clad in a red fur suit, which was partially covered with residue from the chimney, and he carried a large sack containing a portion of the aforementioned packages, toys and other unknown items. He was smoking what appeared to be tobacco in a small pipe in blatant violation of local ordinances and health regulations.

Claus did not speak, but immediately began to fill the stocking of the minor children, which hung adjacent to the chimney, with toys and other small gifts. (Said items did not, however, constitute "gifts" to said minor pursuant to the applicable provisions of the U.S. Tax Code.) Upon completion of such task, Claus touched the side of his nose and flew, rose and/or ascended up the chimney of the House to the roof where the Vehicle and Deer waited and/or served as "lookouts." Claus immediately departed for an unknown destination.

However, prior to the departure of the Vehicle, Deer and Claus from said House, the party of the first part did hear Claus state and/or exclaim: "Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!" Or words to that effect.

Vaya Con Dios

His eyes are far above my line of sight
But his smile reaches down to my tiny hands
I love him now - even when I cannot say
Words I have not learned

Time flows swiftly - His eyes draw ever nearer to my gaze
His hands grow ever smaller next to mine
His love - the one thing that doesn't change
As the shine wears from his smile

He has been waiting, knowing it will come
Patient for when it finally gets here
I always thought it would make it easier
Knowing when the darkness is coming for you

But now my life is but cloudy
It isn't here, but it comes
Ever so swiftly in time paused
Its shadows silently descends

His eyes do not meet mine - My gaze now drops far below the horizon
And perhaps they never shall they again
For peacefully he seems prepared
To go where I cannot follow

Gracefully the world stops spinning
Tears strike the dust to which he slowly returns;
Life remaining seems slower than a hearbeat
Quieter than an unsung song

Vaya con Dios

Shady Brady and Bill Belicheat © 2007 Ryan Parker

I never called Bill Belichick a genius,
Cause I remember when he coached the Browns,
He was such a failure up in Cleveland,
The franchise folded up and left the town,
I never said Tom Brady was a hero,
Cause I remember him at Michigan,
Bringing Gatorade to Brian Griese,
Except for garbage time when he got in,

Chorus
So wasn't it a little shady when this quarterback named Brady,
Suddenly became a mega star,
Wasn't it a bit confusing when this coach who's used to losing,
Earned the reputation that he's smart,
When you know which plays are coming, it can make a coach look cunning,
And make an average quarterback elite,
Cheating's how they got their glory, it's the true deceitful story,
Of Shady Brady and Bill Belicheat,

The tabloids say they've cheated on their girlfriends,
And someone should review their SATs,
The IRS should look into their taxes,
And their colleges should check out their degrees,
Mangini knew the tricks that they were using,
So he convinced the Jets to turn them in,
Cause he was getting sick and tired of losing,
To a team that has to cheat to win,

Chorus
But Brady's made a lot of money and he's scored a lot of honeys,
By showing off his championship rings,
Bill's been praised because he's clever, and called the greatest ever,
And lived with all the luxuries that brings,
But let's confiscate their Sony's, and expose them both as phonies,
And see how many teams that they can beat,
Some would say it won't be any, if it is, it won't be many,
Poor Shady Brady and Bill Belicheat,
No more lucky play selection, into proper blitz protection,
For Shady Brady and Bill Belicheat,
Cause cheating's how they got their glory, it's the true deceitful story,
Of Shady Brady and Bill Belicheat

FINALLY I'M OUT OF PENS! - No really, that's a GOOD thing :)

Ok I don't know if you guys remember this, but about three years ago, during October of my senior year in college, I wrote this blog post about my absurd pen and highlighter collection. You guys remember this? It went something to the tune I need to stop spending money on pens and highlighters when I see ones I want...I mean I probably had thousands of pens, hundreds of dollars worth I'm sure. It was the debater in me + the OCD in me. Basically how it would work, is that I would go to the store, see pens and think "Do I have a pen that color? No, ok well I guess I need THE WHOLE SET!" Or I'd be in class, and I would say to myself "Hmm...Middle Eastern Politics - this class is orange. Where is my orange pen?? IT'S GONE??? Ok well I can't write in my book with ANOTHER color so I guess I need another one. Whoops, I have to have pens that match so I guess I need a A WHOLE NEW SET of uniballs" [at$12 each , and no the thrill of using color-coded pens wasn't "priceless"]. So one day I said to myself, you my friend, are a consumer OUT OF CONTROL...so I vowed I would buy no more pens until I ran out.

So it has taken me about three years, that's right THREE YEARS to go through my bags of expensive pens and highlighters, and I've been able to roughly color-code law school anyway [hey, maybe remedies is Blue - baby blue to be exact - but not always the EXACT same shade of baby blue]. I had to buy a new set of pens at the beginning of this semester, and now today, the time has FINALLY come to buy new highlighters. I am at a loss.

Consumerism in check? - Now THAT'S priceless.

Remember Their Chains,

Miss Elizabeth Alvarez
SEEK JUSTICE
Isaiah 1:17

"Remember those in prison as though you were in prison with them, and those ill-treated as though you too felt their torment." Hebrews 13:3