Blogging Against Violence: Interview with Self

I barely slept last night. I got up early to wash my hair in order to try to get my son to school by 7:00 a.m.  That didn’t happen.  My son woke up while I was leaning over the tub.  He decided he wanted to “help” wash my hair so he climbed onto my back as I washed, conditioned, rinsed and detangled my hair.  Today was a special day at school so it involved orchestrating a number of things that are out of the ordinary before we got there and once we were on sight.

After I dropped him off, I headed to the office for a few hours only to have to turn around and take him to a medical appointment.  While waiting for the clinician, a child decided to attack him.  He began to push him and eventually pushed him against the wall.  I had to stand between them wondering where in the world his parents were.  It happened a second time.  Finally, we were called by our clinician.  What I thought would be an hour ended up being two.

I kept dreading the blogathon.  I didn’t feel like putting on makeup or writing to help someone else when I was completely drained.  Of course not just because of the events of the day, but events that started last Friday including the visit to seven shoe stores on Monday to find fall shoes for my son.

I had not been blogging all week like I had planned.  I had writers block.  I was just going to turn around and go home when Malena Cunningham sent a second text asking was I on my way.  When I got to the station, a tow truck decided to park in the middle of the NBC 13 driveway.  Was this a sign to just go home?

When I got to the studio I went to the bathroom and put on some makeup.  I dragged myself into the conference room.  To my delight, it was a room full of energetic bloggers and volunteers.  The beautiful view of Birmingham from atop Red Mountain has always had soothing qualities for me.  Although I had sworn off sweets, I devoured a white chocolate macadamia nut cookies and washed it down with bottled water.  I was armed and ready!

As I was trying to figure out the lay of the land, I heard some of the staff and volunteers telling their stories.  I had forgotten that Malena and I had become friends through our work with the YWCA.  I wasn’t just a blogger, I was someone who had worked with women who had lost everything.

I was reminded of a support group that I had run on a temporary basis for an organization that works with domestic violence survivors.  It consisted of women who had fled their homes with their children without money and only the clothes on their backs.  They lived in fear everyday.  They weren’t free to complain about their bad day because of visits to multiple shoe stores.  They had been living day by day.

Many of these women were survivors of domestic violence.  Sometimes they shared their stories.  Sometimes they didn’t.  They were attempting to rebuild their self esteem, careers and a sense of normalcy. Domestic violence took away their freedom.  Had it not been for places like Pathway and the YW, both beneficiaries of funds from the Voices Against Violence Initiative, they would not have a safe place to sleep or to care for their children.

I couldn’t believe that 5:00 p.m. had come.  Then suddenly it was 5:30 p.m.  It was time to pick up my son.  But there were two more people I needed to interview.  I had gone from writers block, to trying to fit in all the things I want to say.

I know that there are alot of worthy causes out there.  This one is a matter of life or death for many people.  Please visit http://thewomensfundbham.org to donate.