Class is an illusion or an in trusion
Don’t mix your dish clothes with your serviettes
Ever heard of that one?
My Gran drummed that into all of us as much as she could.
She was born with money but lived the life of Cinderella because she was pretty and Grand Mamam remarried and acquired two not so pretty daughters.
She fell pregnant at 16 and was made homeless and went to work as a femme de menage and then trained to be a beautician.
She fell in love again and had my Aunt. Her Love left her like a stolen kiss and she then had two children to look after.
She had to put my aunt and uncle in a children’s home so she could work and survive and send money to them.
It’s not a train smash.
Ever heard of that one before?
My grandpa drummed that into all of us as much as he could.
His parents left Russia in 1918, took on a Polish sounding name and ended up leaving a good life for the slums of Paris.
Grandpa was born in the slums of Paris.
Grandpa took to cruising Paris with the other street kids, always hungry on the lookout for food.
One day Grandpa got a chance to change everything. He got a contract with L’oreal to bring the brand and introduce it to the dark continent that is Africa.
Always an opportunist he took the contract, found my Gran along the way, got married to her (much to the disapproval of my Grans family) and left for Madagascar, then Zimbabwe and finally South Africa.
My Gran couldn’t leave her children. She had to tell grandpa that she couldn’t leave France. He asked why and she only managed to tell him about her daughter – my aunt.
My grandpa took my aunt out of the children’s home and gave her his name that very day. My gran couldn’t bring herself to tell Grandpa about her other son. He would remain a secret until he wrote a salacious book about our family many years later.
Grandpa would have taken on my estranged uncle too if he had known.
They went on to have four more children.
Grandpa made a lot of money and finally got live the life of O Riley in South Africa.
The fridge was never empty again.
I got to live a pretty good life too.
Did having money and class make me a better person?
It got me into a lot of trouble.
I had far too much money from my Dad and my Mom’s side of the family.
I got into plenty of trouble.
I ended up living in squats and places of poverty. I was always more accepted there for wanting to get high than with other wealthy friends.
The reason: I didn’t hide who I was.
I don’t regret becoming a drug addict.
It taught me that just because I was white and privileged that didn’t mean I was exempt from getting hooked on the same drugs that only the poor and coloured ( is a race in South Africa and not a slur), Indian and black community did.
Class doesn’t buy you happiness.
Drug dealers hated me.
They didn’t get why a white girl with seemingly everything would be wanted to live a ghetto life – have black boyfriends and live in squalor.
One thing having class did help me with is get me out of a lot of trouble
Before you say money doesn’t buy class.
I already agree it doesn’t.
But have you ever noticed that some people carry themselves a certain way and others have an inbred look?
This is subjective and
Don’t tell me you haven’t ever had that thought!
That person looks like …. (insert your thoughts here)
What I love about the Word Press community is I don’t have a clue who has money and who doesn’t unless of course, a person tells me.
It still doesn’t make a difference. All Good Writing is classy in my book.
What irritates me is even though I am living on the poverty line not because of choice but because of choices I have made – people who don’t know my financial situation assume that the reason I got my daughter back and managed to manage my mental health issues is because of how I present myself and because I look like I have money.
I communicate well.
Being privileged does not make me make better choices.
It doesn’t make me better in any way.
There are many people who live in poverty who just like me want to learn. crave to learn.
I truly believe ‘knowledge is power’.
I communicate well because I have educated myself.
Everyone should have this chance
I’m in debt because I wanted to study in higher education. I am willing to get into more debt to get my Masters.
The problem with the class is the privileged have a better chance at learning to communicate and getting their point across in a “rational” manner from an early age.
We are all born with emotions. It is as natural as breathing
For many reasons when we display our emotions in society, we are seen as bad and showing ourselves and our family and friends up.
People with mental health issues -Rich or Poor get outcast as soon as they start leading their life in emotion without knowing the rules of how to be “civilised” to try to get what you want.
I didn’t get lucky because of my background.
I got clever and I studied and I learnt. I watched people and how they interact. I went on self-discovery courses to find out what my priorities and beliefs and values were and what makes me tick.
I have had at least one chance to marry for money. A pity the person was double my age, got a great pension and couldn’t communicate unless in anger or affection and drunk.
I have never had a rich boyfriend.
I think the closest I had to a boyfriend with “Money” was a brief love affair with someone in the army who had so many issues that he accused me of only wanting him for his money.
Funny story. I actually crushed on him because he had travelled like me. He had opinions and ideas. He was creative and he made me feel special.
I am married for love.
My mom is not rich any more but she has a lot of class and really great taste in fashion.
She has been my wedding planner and if our day looks privileged: it is because she got clever
We got clever. We got our priorities right.
I am rich in love.
My husband to be was born in a place where everyone who hears the name thinks ghetto, drugs, inbred families and rough around the edges.
Granted Gaz looks like he may smoke a bit of the green stuff.
He has never smoked or taken drugs.
He doesn’t drink. Hasn’t done for nearly 5 years.
He does know how to communicate and get his point across better than a lot of the Rich people I have had the opportunity of conversing with.
His mind is open. He is not ignorant. I love him for that.
We get on so well because we try to put the world to rights, we are inquisitive, always ready to learn and find out about our world and even beyond it.
We laugh. A huge turn on.
Make me laugh or buy me diamonds?
Oooh, what will I go for?
I thought today would be a good time to get a bit closer to home with the animals that we choose to adopt into our family.
Here is a word
What does this mean to you?
What does it bring to mind?
Sometimes these words conjure up images and words of
Setting an animal on fire
A lot of animal neglect may not be deliberate.
It can be as something as simple as forgetting to put out fresh clean water for a pet or a farm animal.
There is a strong link between animal abuse and violence. My ex-partner was violent with his dog.
Is there a relationship between domestic abuse and animal abuse?
When I sought out my local woman centre about the violent relationship I was in. I had to do score test to find out which band or stage of severity my abuse I was in.
One of the questions was if my ex-partner ever hurt an animal. Animal abuse
This is one of the four predictors that may indicate that a partner will be violent to a child or a partner.
I remember a long time ago, I can’t remember where I was living but there was a man who was always abusing his dog. I don’t know what he did to it but the animal was clearly distressed. So much so I reported it.
So can animal abuse give some indication towards abuse to people?
Social workers /professionals are supposed to be trained to look at an animal’s living conditions in a household and gauge how they are treated to indicate if they’re some kind of clear break down in a family. There can be many reasons for this.
Poor mental health
Unable to have Empathy
Animal neglect does give a better picture of any child /Domestic violent abuse that may occur in a household.
It seems like a no brainer and it is..
I remember when I was about 4/5 years old. I was playing with my ‘My little pony’ kingdom and the kitten we had at that time came to say hi. I don’t know what I was thinking but there was a ribbon on the floor- the memory is a bit blurred.
I tied the ribbon around my kitten’s neck and then tied it to the leg of the table my pony kingdom was on and I kept on tightening the ribbon until my kitten was hanging.
Something in my brain shattered. I realised if I didn’t do something my kitten would die because of me. I scrambled to get my kitten free and I was in tears- horrified that I had nearly killed my kitten.
My kitten was fine by the way.
What if my mother hadn’t been a mad cat/animal lover like me?
What if she hadn’t taught me to love and respect animals?
Just a thought I guess….
She doesn’t know about this event.
So is animal abuse normal in children?
This can indicate that a child is a high-risk youth. Children from violent homes of abuse and neglect can act out abuse on animals.
I don’t know what this says about me.
Was I acting out on some unconscious level what was going on in my home at that point?
I think for me what is important is my instinct kicked in and I knew this was wrong and I never wanted or tried to hurt an animal again.
Some experts would agree that intervening early with a child at risk of developing abusive traits can be more therapeutic in stopping the cycle of violence.
Why should I get involved in reporting animal abuse if it is not my business? How can I possibly be making any difference at all?
It is about looking at the bigger issues. If you report to the police/animal protection society of any abuse that you see, then this will be recorded on the crime database and it can lead to investigations and prosecuting dangerous criminals, keeping them away from society-ie in prison.
People who act out on crimes such as
Violence against humans
Drug and Disorderly offences
can all be linked to animal abuse
WHAT CAN I DO TO HELP? I hear you ask
Report all animal abuse. Animal abuse can indicate that there is something seriously wrong with an individual. It is not normal or acceptable.
The more we as a community alert police and the law to animal abuse, it becomes a clear message that this is an issue that needs to become more of a priority. It is a stand we take- that we will not accept to live in a violent community. Law enforcers will need to become more serious about how they deal with this crime because we won’t ignore it anymore.
The result will be a safer community for our families.
The A-Z challenge starts tomorrow.
Oh, zeeeeeeeeeeee excitement.
I’m probably going to have to put a pause on my ‘Beliefs’ posts, which in a way, I’m actually dreading because I love being silly and writing comically.
My theme is animals. I’ve always been more compassionate to animals than most humans.I don’t know what it is that connects me to our earthling friends.
“I like big cats and I cannot lie…”
This may sound bordering on psychopathic tendencies ,but I think the connection was made when I was about 3/4 years old. I was playing with ‘my little ponies’ in my bedroom – remember them?
Our kitten came into my bedroom. I spotted a piece of string on the floor and for some (evil) reason I tied the string around my kitten’s nec, it was too short.
I nearly hung my kitten, as soon as I saw it struggling ,I untied it then proceeded to burst into to tears.
I’m not evil.
Kids do experiment.
It’s not funny, it is going to be horrific, I expect many of you may not even read the posts because you can’t bear to listen or read or see an animal suffering or abused.
Don’t turn your eyes away from something because it upsets you. I expect to learn a lot. I hope you will take the time to raise your own awareness to all our earthling friends. Be brave enough to take the time to read what abuse/disrespect so many have been through.
I’m their voice for the month of April. I’m going into serious mode. If anyone has read my
“I love cats and all our earthling friends. I have nearly had massive fistie cuffs with people about my passion for animals. I’m not trying to sell anything. Rest at ease, soldier.”
I can laugh at religion( some people can’t). I can’t laugh or ignore animal abuse and neglect though some people can.
It’s a good job we are all different hey?
*REPOSTED THIS-I had only been blogging for a couple of months when I published this. (19/09/2015)
WOAH! Okay. So not only am I co-facilitating an Anti-stigma mental health workshop in October but I have agreed to stand up-publicly-not behind the comfy boundary of my room and blog. I have been asked to speak about my own issues related to mental health and any discrimination I may have felt. I expected to have thousands of examples on this topic.
I couldn’t stop asking myself the question throughout my day to day activities today. I actually had to lie down (so dramatic) for an hour. I decided I have felt it happen to me. When I have thoughts fired at me by myself and I can’t get anything constructive done in my day to day life, I usually exercise, do some cleaning, get out, spend time with my daughter, read or sleep. Sleep helps the thoughts to give me a break and some mindful silence.
Here we go. I am using this post as a soundboard.
I don’t have a presentation to give, all organised and ready at a click of a button. That is not my style. So, on that note, I’m just gonna talk and talk and see what comes out.
Okay so, I was born in South Africa. I had a colourful upbringing. Lots of drama. I have done a lot of talking therapy and going to psychologists to not go too deep into my past. I have dealt with a lot of my issues from my upbringing. What I would like to point out is: I was always insecure. I had a lot of tantrums as a toddler and crazy dreams. Arguments and conflict are themes that stand out. The smell of Mandrax, weed and alcohol is always part of every experience. My Mom and Dad divorced when I was 2 years old.
My mom got remarried to an ex-boyfriend who had just come out of doing his conscription. My Dad got remarried to his current wife — my step Mom. I don’t recall seeing my dad and stepmom until I was about 8-10 years old. I’m not sure why and I don’t hold a grudge.
My Mom struggled with her mental health for years and years. I don’t think her being in violent abusive situations helped ease the stress. When I was about 5 years old my mother found blood on my underwear. I think my ex step father sexually used me. We left him and our cat Muffet, in the middle of the night to go and live with my Aunt. My Mom was desperate to give me a secure home and we finally found a two bedroom apartment to live in.
Things and people I remember from that time
I remember coming home from school one day and not being allowed in the apartment.
I remember a letter I had written to the caretaker of the flats. Something along the lines of ‘please don’t make us homeless’ . I’m a pretty shitty persuader haha…
Me always walking home on my own because my nanny was late
Eating SMASH and loads of ketchup
My annoying cousin/brother who was exactly the adjective I described. He was a total pain in the arse!
I remember Mom suntanning in the complex swimming pool.