Tag Archives: bullies

TEAR DOWN THE WALLS

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Let me tell you. Being a woman who is fully human is not a given. It is always a hard-won position. Too many dismiss women as not fully human. Women and their ideas are called “empty-headed.” Women are called “weak-willed.” Women are called “frail.” Men are are not thought to brainless or empty-headed. Men are not thought to lack willpower. Men are not expected to be weak. There are stronger and more respectful words for men. I am all for respecting men. I only ask for the same in return. I do not always get that respect. Even if I had remained in my hometown, married a “nice Italian-Catholic boy” which was my parents’ most fervent hope, I would not have been able to avoid such disrespect. But, I might have had a man to come to my defense. More likely, not. Men know how to avoid a fight. Their lives depend on reconciliation to  bullies. Male aggression can be a fierce and unpredictable experience; especially, by men with gangs behind them. 

Bullies come in all guises. They are not just “street toughs” with cigarette packs stored in the rolled-up sleeves of their tee shirts, tatooed sleeves exposed in warning messages as in my childhood neighborhood. Boys and girls both learned to give them a wide berth. Bullies also exist in board rooms, school rooms, and court rooms.

I did not stay and be a well-behaved little girl all my life. I became a lawyer. I entered courtrooms where early-on I was usually the only woman to make an appearance on a client’s behalf that day. Maya Wiley, spoke of her experience as a lawyer yesterday, in an appearance on MSNBC. Ms. Wiley carries two strikes against her. She is not only female; but, like former Prosecutor and Attorney General of California Kamala Harris, she is  a woman of color. She is Black. She lives in a world where the unspoken message is, “If you are Black, step back.” This is the silent message in the brain of too many Americans. I am a white woman. Yet, I find some empathy in our positions as a female.

Ms. Wiley mentioned episodes in her practice of law as a federal district attorney which matched my own experience. The judge, despite her presence at the Justice department table ready to plead her case, pretended not to know she was an attorney. The judge dismissed her entire identity in that moment. He cut her. She bled. She still bleeds.

On several occasions early in my career I made an appearance on behalf of a client. I sat with other attorneys, all men, in the courtroom waiting for my case to be called. It was called and I approached the Bench. “Good morning, your Honor, I am Louise Annarino, an attorney with the Legal Aid Society. This is my client…the plaintiff in the case before you today.” Standard introduction. Not a standard response from the judge, however. Instead he said with a smirk toward my opposing counsel, a man, “Young lady, you cannot just waltz in here without a lawyer. Come back after you get one. Next!” 

Holding back my anger at his attempt to shame and dismiss me…and my female client…from “his” courtroom, I answer, “ Your Honor, I am an attorney. I am representing this woman who is my client. Let me repeat for you that I am a lawyer from the Legal Aid Society.” He responded,

“And, I told you you must be a lawyer to represent this client.” By this time my client leaned in and whispered to me, “I thought you were a lawyer!” I could barely hear her over the laughter of the male attorneys seated behind me awaiting their cases to be called. The judge laughed with them. I did not. I said, “Perhaps you are not listening to me, or are hard of hearing. I shall give you the befit of the doubt.” I am a licensed attorney in the state of Ohio and I am not going anywhere.” He heard my case. My client had her successful day in court. We both bled that day.

I returned to the office and told my colleagues what had happened. A woman attorney said, “Oh my, I forgot to warn you, we women always carry our license with us and lay them on the bench before we start.” I took my license off the wall and put it into my briefcase. I wish I could say that was the only episode, but it was not. Not every judge, nor every attorney cut me. But, I still bled. I bleed writing this account. All women bleed. We have become experts at stanching the flow. Right now, you are thinking of jokes about our menses ever month. Stop it! Those bleeds bring new life into the world. We honor those bleeds. We do not honor the dishonor of men cutting us down to size where we can be ignored as not fully human, not fully equal; cut and bled.

Kamala Harris was interviewed my Mika Byrezezinski at a Know Your Value Conference in San Francisco describing what it was like to face barriers of discrimination and break down walls. She said, “‘When you break things, it is painful. You get cut, and you bleed, and it will be worth it — But be very clear. It will be and can be a very painful process.’ Kamala Harris knows this. Maya Wiley knows this. I know this. Every woman who breaks down barriers knows this. Women break down barriers every day…int their homes, at their businesses, in boardrooms, in school rooms; and yes, in courtrooms. They break down barriers in friendship relationships, in love relationships,  in business relationships. We still do not have an ERA (Equal Rights Amendment). Why do men need barriers from women? We love them. We respect them. We honor them. It is time for them to do the same. And to those women, too afraid to break down such barriers, we get it.  We know the position you are in. We bleed for you, too.

We say to all people, as Reagan said to Khrushev, “Tear down this wall” so that none of us need bleed ever again. Vote for Kamala Harris in November. We need each other. We need each other healthy, whole and safe.

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USE YOUR WORDS

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How often we tell children

“Use your words.”

But, we forget too easily

that words have power

only if they are heard, 

and not dismissed breezily.

Men decided long ago

not to listen to women.

So many lies are told

to quiet women’s voices.

Eve has never been forgiven

for opening men’s eyes 

to painful truths.

Women’s voices are not more shrill.

Women’s screams are not made

to give men their thrills.

Women’s truths are too often

pushed aside to save male pride.

Doors are slammed shut

against voices women can trust.

“Use your words?”

How soon we forget.

Pain is the great motivator

of forgetfulness.

It deadens speech.

It silences words.

Bullies remind us of our pain

to shut our mouths

and drown truth out.

“Use your words!”

Do not forget their power

in the kitchen, in the bedroom,

in the schoolroom, in the boardroom.

“Use your words,” minute by minute,

hour after hour, until the day comes

you  can vote your own power

to “use your words.”

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WRITING ON THE WALL

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The swastika was painted on the outside gym wall.

Underneath the words

“Die, fish eaters, die.”

Anti-semitism is broad

and crosses lines

in so many ways.

Victims are sought among Jews,

Catholics, and Romany, too.

No one is excused

from the hate and need to show

that the hater is bigger, stronger,

in control of a world

they feel is out-of-control.

Seeing hate painted on my school

was frightening to see but not the end

of the feelings inside, the birth of my pride.

Cowards in the night sent me such fright.

Unleashing their hate, leashed my own.

There is no place for hate 

in my world, nor yours.

Cowards and bullies never win.

They always over-extend.

Hate destroys them from the inside, not out.

Love builds up inside their victims, then out

it flows to every other sister and brother.

What do I know?

What do I fear?

Not a swastika, nor white hood.

I fear those who refuse to do good;

who remain silent and unmoving

in the face of a racism, sexism,

anti-semitism and hate speech;

who laugh at jokes meant to harm and disarm;

who refuse to recognize the alarm

screaming in protest and marching along

streets paved with prejudice and fear.

Who see the writing on the wall

and walk away to gated communities

and streets paved with gold.

They allow the old stories to take hold.

I walk the streets where the injured gather

amid the brave souls who know what matters,

and protect those under attack.

The brave who insist we take truth and love back.

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THE NARCISSIST

photo by History in HD on Unsplash

IN LOVE

what goes around 

comes around

in never-ending

ripples of affection

and deep attention 

one to the other.

Love is communion,

the gasping union

of recognizing self 

in one another.

Love is only love

when it is both

given and accepted.

Love that goes one way

is not love at all;

but  manipulation

and destruction

of any chance for union.

Love that goes one way

inevitably rings false,

a masterful deception

which destroys communion.

Narcissism gives nothing,

but takes all it can get

and more, of those who 

cannot accept love

in all its forms and favor.

Accepting love is too hard

for those who are its stranger.

Accepting love warns them

of the past disappointments

when their hearts were in danger.

The narcissist breeds more fear,

and warns them to resist

the call for love both given and received.

In this way, he deceives.

He alone is worthy of love and safe,

so in his arms they place

every dream of being loved.

Love must go both ways.

Always.

One-way love is not love at all.

It only brings destruction and our fall.

Alone, and unloved, we remain after all.

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TALL TALES

TALL TALES

Conspiracy theories are nothing new. I remember the first one told to me. I was 5 years old and riding my new bicycle up and down the sidewalk in front of my house, allowed to go on my own only from the corner to the first alley and back again. There had been a flurry of children’s voices for the past few days talking about a monster who had moved into the neighborhood. It sounded so creepy to my five year old mind. I tried to avoid those conversations.

We lived on the Southside, surrounded by former German/Irish and new Italian immigrants. The Southside of any factory town always means the latest to arrive, or the poorest unable to move on, live there. The Southside of any town is where the river flows, and train tracks are laid out. The downwind side where the smog of factories collects in the air and flows down from their smoke towers, while the effluent chemicals left over from production drain into the river. In our neighborhood the Tectum factory dump lay near the river surrounded by an earthen bank hiding most of it from the street. But, the rejected sheets of shredded wood fiber held together by cementitious binder had piled so high it was visible. The air was filled with grey dust throughout the neighborhood. Playing on the dusty, unstable pile was forbidden. A true incentive to explore was unleashed by Mom’s warnings. That forbidden dump was a mystery to solve. Bored children, not yet solely rational thinkers, were drawn there like flies to…a word a five year old girl was not allowed to say.

The day I first found myself captured by a conspiracy theory is one I have never forgotten. The children noticed I had no interest in their gleeful one-ups-manship stories of the monster. The latest version was that he stole into homes at night. I asked why no one ever actually saw this monster. They responded “because it was night and everyone was asleep!” The monster was stealing jewels, candlesticks, and silverware. I raised an eyebrow at that comment! No one in my neighborhood had jewels or silver and gold anything. There was little worth stealing in our homes. With each disbelieving question I asked the children became more incensed by my disbelief. They considered how to “get me,” as bullies are eager to do. The only thing to be done was to issue a challenge and defeat me somehow.

The challenge was this: Ride to the end of this street, turn left and ride to the river. Climb the embankment into the Tectum Dump. Climb the pile. That is where the monster sleeps during the day. If you do not think he is real, you will do this. Uh oh. There were so many things wrong with this I shook my head “no” at first. If the monster did not kill me and eat me as the children avowed he would, my mother would kill me when she found out. But, proving that  there was no monster, and stopping lies which were scaring innocent children like me, seemed worth the risk.

The children followed me all the way up the street. I pedaled as fast as I could, which was so slow they easily kept up with me, chanting scary threats all the way. I stopped at the corner, reassessing the plan. The river seemed so far away, the longest block I would ever traverse alone.

My delay simply fueled the bullying chants. So I turned left and started up the street, pedaling faster than I ever had before. My feet were flying, my hands sweating. So wet, it made it hard to hold onto the handlebars. None of the children left the corner. They remained silent and watched. There could be no retreat.

I made it to the embankment by the river, praying Hail Mary’s all the way. I dropped my bike and ran up the embankment with my eyes closed, saying the Guardian Angel prayer. My knees shook. I felt nauseous. I stood at the top, opened my eyes and looked down into the dump. It looked threatening but I saw no monster. I heard shouting and turned to see children gathered still on the corner saying I had to go in to the dump. So, I did. I climbed that pile and smiled a smile as wide as my smile had ever been, or will ever be. There was not monster. It was all a lie.

I stayed awhile and picked some wild flowers. Long enough so that the children might think I had been eaten alive and was never coming  out. I waded in the river awhile. Finally, I gathered my flowers and climbed back out and onto the street, climbed onto my bike and pedaled slowly back to the corner offering the flowers to the children silently riding home.

I had no supper that night. Penance for disobeying my Mother, and for allowing tall tales told by idiot children who cared nothing for my safety to lead me into danger. Mom warned me that I would be told a lot of tall tales (1950s description of conspiracy theories) in my life; and, I would be a fool to believe any of them. She was right. 

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LADY RUBY

Credit: AP Photo/ Jacquelyn Martin

Lady Ruby walks with the Ancestors

on paths treacherous and costly;

on paths where the honorable and heroic

stay focused and resolute.

Truth  lights her path amidst the darkness

of hate and fear, and the lies and threats

of political bullies and white supremacists.

Her faithfulness is a shield.

Her resoluteness is a sword

which pierces the veil of dangerous actors

in conspiracies of hot, decaying  breath

constricting her strength but never defeating it.

Lady Ruby walks with the Ancestors.

They lift her up and show us the story long hidden, 

and now threatened to be forbidden,

lest we learn what we need to know 

to perfect our union and ring the freedom bell

for all Americans. This is the story Lady Ruby tells.

Lady Ruby walks with the Ancestors.

Let us walk beside her.

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PROTECT MARIUPOL’S HEROES

I cannot forget Mariuopl’s  brave defenders.

Now, thrown into play by their surrender

to Putin and Russian offenders

of all that is sacred in Mary’s city.

Now, left to evildoers without pity.

Media seems to ignore this ignominy

replacing the glory of the sexier story 

of fighting to the death, which has more cachet

as breaking news than a prisoner switch, any day.

Misplaced attention and failure to attend details

endangers Ukrainian defenders on the rails.

Instead of an exchange, they face trials,

and more victimization mile after mile

by the butchers who claim those who fought back

are war criminals, to cover their own tracks.

Mariupol’s men, women and children were blown off the map.

Ukraine’s borders scattered by Russia’s attempt to overlap

its peaceful neighbors, no longer members of the USSR.

Now seeking a new democratic order, looking afar

to The West whose history mirrors their own more fully.

Putin’s Russia determined to remain a USSR bully.

Now, Ukrainian heroes are more in need of our protection

and our media looking for its own glory screens off in defection.

Shine the light on heroes’ lives Russia bends to their destruction.

Use your news power to defend each hour of their lives and protect them.

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Fearful little men

I cannot capitalize the word “ men” in the title. I do not refer to honorable and secure men; but only to insecure little men who must bully others and prey on the weak to prove they are bigger than they are. What they fear is our seeing the truth of who they are, our recognizing their cowardice. At heart they are frauds, con men. It does not matter, in the end, what condition led them to conclude they must cover up fear. Brave men act honorably despite fear. That is called courage: admitting fear, facing it, overcoming it. Refusing to admit fear, conning others to believe they fear nothing, succumbing to fear is called cowardice.

What we see happening on every front around the world is a fraud by cowardly and fearful bullies, supported by dishonorable men who have found fraud a cover for hanging onto great wealth. Dishonorable men hide behind bullies. Honorable men call them out.

Much of the fear of bullies is fear of being seen. White men( and women) know to fear the knowledge held by people of color who have been denied access to wealth and power by dishonorable white people. People who face the threat of harm pay more attention to those threatening their well-being. abused children and women, for example, have a heightened sense and are poised for defense in a way those privileged to have led safe lives need not.

The world has been awakening to past threats which denied human rights to too many since the Declaration of Human Rights, the creation of the United Nations,; and, the example of human rights leaders such as Ghandi, Mandela, and Rev. Martin Luther King, jr.. the feminist and gay rights movements have also posed a threat to white male bullies and misogynists. The Holocaust awakened western democracies to the dangers of anti-semitism. These waves of awakening threaten the hold of the wealthy and empowered, who may not themselves be bullies. But, those among this group who are dishonorable support the bullies without acknowledging their responsibility to those threatened with harm.

The first group of bullies includes persons such as Donald Trump, Vladimir Putin, “ strongmen” on every continent. They are weak and fearful men who cannot accept responsibility for their self-perceived weakness which they hide through braggadocio, fraud and deception. The second group includes persons who push bullies to the front as “ leaders” to hide their own weaknesses and fears, and maintain their hold on wealth and power.

What we are watching in Ukraine is an example of a bully without honor committing a fraud, rewriting history, pretending to be a strong man by preying on others he can subjugate for his and others’ benefit. He is allowed to do this because of that second group, the dishonorable holders of wealth and power: banks, financial institutions, Swift, nations run by strongmen, Right wing media talking heads, heads of state, legislators.

It takes honor and courage to be a democratic republic, the strength to believe in yourself and fellow citizens despite your fears and theirs. Cowards prefer autocracies, undemocratic institutions, and oppressive denial of human rights. It takes honor and courage to speak truth to power as a member of a political party or legislative body. It takes honor and courage to follow and enforce the rule of law. Too often, dishonorable cowards use police forces and judges to guard bullies from legal consequences, and to enforce subjugation of those they fear. We refer to these acts as “ abuse of power.” Those abused by the justice system see more clearly the truth behind the dishonorable seeking only power and wealth.

The same principles driving Putin to subjugate Ukraine are those which drive the Republican Party. This is not new. But, it has been in place for so many years that we who are privileged to avoid the bullies( no one can entirely)for most of our lives have been all too willing to ignore the abuse of others. Racism and sexism are not new. The honorable and courageous among us recognize and admit this despite our fear that we are complicit in the fraud of white supremacy.

I think the reason the invasion of Ukraine is so troubling is not only that Trump,Manafort, Flynn, the Devos family and other American oligarchs, the Republican Party, and FOX TV ( it is not a news station) supported, and continue to support Putin’s agenda in Ukraine. It is far worse. This is a world-wide agenda to undermine democratic institutions and human rights in every city in every country.

Those of us who value honor must oppose this fraud against humanity with courage and persistence. President Biden is right that this will not be easy, that it will take time. My heart aches for the pain, suffering and death being aggressively visited upon Ukraine which will occur in the meantime, the number of African-Americans and other persons of color who will be abused in the meantime, the number of young people who will feed the coffers of oligarchs by the sale of guns and drugs as they die from school shootings and overdoses.

Follow the money. Connect the dots. And for all of us, for every democracy stand together and speak out. Register and vote. Challenge every con and lie. Protect the electoral process. Do not stand silent before the bullies. Have courage! Hold honor dear.

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UKRAINE

Past the gate

beyond red lines

above the fray

drones prey

on those within

borders

which no longer matter

nor protect.

Armies march

across cyber space

crowded by failing 

satellites and diplomats

eager to avoid collision.

War begins before

anyone sees

its trajectory. 

While media muses

cyber missile cruise

among the threads

of the internet connection

breaching protection

of what each nation

needs to survive.

War? Stop war?

silencing guns is no longer 

enough

to stop the destruction.

What alliances are strong

enough

to deflect the greed

of autocrats and bullies

bent on profit at all costs,

minding only their loss

of power and profits

at the expense of lives lost?

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WE NEED LAWYERS TO MODERATE DEBATES,By Louise Annarino, October 8,2012

WE NEED LAWYERS TO MODERATE DEBATES, By Louise Annarino,October 8,2012

 

Yesterday, I discussed the need to identify and challenge bullying behavior in the workplace,at school, and on debate stages. While it may be impossible for human beings to refrain from aggression and dominance, such behavior can be restrained and redirected in positive ways. This is called the process of civilization. While some Americans made treaties and sought peaceful sharing of mother earth with Native Americans as they moved across new frontiers and ancient tribal grounds, others on both sides bullied their way, breaking treaties and attacking each other. When rules are allowed to be easily broken, when little is done to enforce them, when rule-breakers win without censure, nations and civilizations are destroyed.

 

The core restraints against bullies are rules. Rules must be established and enforced to restrain aggression and dominance. Every mother knows this. Every mother tames her children with rules, redirects their innate desire to dominate their world with rules. As a child matures into civility, she hopes empathy will take over her role as matron of rules. A mother can relax a bit once her child has learned good manners; but only if the child also has developed empathy. Some are incapable of empathy; some so privileged they do not believe rules apply to them. These persons must be compelled to follow rules even more closely in order not to abuse their innate drive to dominate and overpower others. Such persons abuse such power if their aggression is not contained within the rules, nor redirected by their own empathy.

 

When I was 18 I developed and directed a playground in small town inner-city neighborhood. The neighborhood’s poverty level was similar to my own. While it was predominately African-American, my own was predominately new immigrant. Neither viewed positively by the larger populace of the town. Each difficult to escape. Immigrants could eventually escape with education and very hard work; African-Americans could not escape even with education and very hard work due to red-lining real-estate transactions and discrimination. Each neighborhood had their share of bullies, as I am certain the wealthier white neighborhoods did as well. They must have because I met those bullies in college, in law school, and in the workplace.

 

It was easy to identify the bullies by their easy but tight smiles, chest-leading swagger and rapid fire delivery of directives and demands. When I questioned them they lied for the joy of misleading me. When I challenged them, they accelerated their verbal barrage against me, for the joy of dominating the conversation. When I held them to the rules, they became louder and more animated, for the joy of undermining my authority. And, they never stopped smiling those tight smiles. To diminish my personal or positional power, they demeaned me in front of others, passed false rumors regarding my character, and claimed my accomplishments as their own. I know bullies intimately.

 

To keep the other children and myself safe from the bullies, the neighborhood gang stayed nearby and moved in when the bullies became too aggressive. I did two things to address this situation. First, I organized a neighborhood election (parents and neighbors could also vote) for a Playground Congress to make rules, which selected a Playground Supreme Court to decide when rules had been broken and ordered punishment for rule-breakers, which selected a Playground Chief of Police to enforce the rules and punishment, and who selected his Playground Police Patrol. Congress made rules such as no knives, no guns, no matches, no drugs, no fighting, no cursing, no stealing. The Supreme Court selected the lead bully as Chief of Police. The Chief of police picked his adherents as police officers. The bully was now commissioned to abide by and enforce the rules, with assurance the Court would mete out justice. The aggression and need to  dominate of our bully was contained within rules and his energies redirected. He was incapable of empathy, but we had a means of civilizing his need to dominate and control others.

 

Fights were handled following my suggestion. Those whose arguments became either verbally or physically violent were sentenced to “the ring”. While I laced up miscreants’ boxing gloves, the leader of our local gang who agreed to manage the fight (who better able?) read the Queensbury Rules to the combatants. It was his job to keep the fight within the rules and assure no blows caused harm to either combatant. To say this was a novel approach for him is a gross understatement. However, he handled his role with the strong leadership qualities he displayed as a well-respected gang leader. He, like all good leaders, was not a bully. He was calm, reserved, soft-spoken, and saved his smiles for those surprising moments of utter hilarity which frequently erupt in the presence of young children. Watching these kids try to connect a punch wearing boxing gloves they could barely hold up created such fun that their arguments and need to fight quickly dissipated, while we all laughed together.

 

Looking back, I think I became a lawyer not because I like rules, but because I hate them. I hate the need for them. But I respect what rules,what the RULE OF LAW, can accomplish. It can civilize a nation. It can contain a bully. This is what The 10 Commandments are for Jews, their early rule of law. When Jesus was asked, “Rabbi, what is the greatest commandment?” He answered that there is but ONE commandment, “That you love one another, even as God loves you.” This requires empathy. When empathy fails, when one person just doesn’t “get” the other, only rules can replace empathy and create civility. Maybe we need lawyers to moderate debates.

 

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