A couple of weeks ago, I sat down and binged on Orange Is The New Black over a weekend. I fell in love with the show after watching the first episode. When I saw the character Alex Vause for the first time, I had to pick my jaw up off of the floor. The vibe of badass radiated off of her and I wanted to know more about her than Piper. Yes, I know that she is just a fictional character on TV, but who hasn’t had a crush on a fictional character. Everyone has one or a few characters they identify with on a TV show, movies and books. So why am I so interested in Alex? Aside from her being so attractive, she doesn’t tiptoe around things. She is pretty straight forward and to the point. I like people who don’t try to sugarcoat the truth on things and are comfortable within their own skin. She stands up for what she believes in and will fight for it. Yeah, she has a way of getting what she wants. She needed that crafty manipulation to recruit drug mules to run her drug cartel. She also has a way with seduction that just pulls someone in. She seduced Piper, but fell in love with her instead of making her a drug mule. When I saw the flashback on one part of her life as a kid, I understood why she has a tough exterior and doesn’t take shit from anyone. To be bullied and put down by girls who grew up thinking they were better than anyone can have a lifelong effect on someone’s life. However, she does have a softer side, and I saw that when she was talking to Nikki in the prison library and laundry room. I could see how much she loved and cared about Piper, even though Piper broke her fucking heart when shit got real. The way she was treated by her in the latter part of their relationship, IMO, was complete crap. Piper could have offered to do something for Alex to help her relax or get her mind off of what was stressing her out. Instead, she chose to break up with her and run away back to the U.S. The risky life Alex was involved in wasn’t a good environment for romance, but she wanted to share her life with someone she loved and cared about. My heart broke for Alex when Piper wouldn’t even go with her to her mother’s funeral. That was just complete and utter crap to do that to someone who lost a loved one. If Alex were real, I think she and I could be friends or maybe more than that. I would treat her with much more respect and loyalty than Piper did. I would have gone with her to her mother’s funeral. I would have tried to reason with her about some other things, but I wouldn’t run away when shit got real. In the end, I would throw my pie for her.
On Monday, I will be going back to work after almost three years of being unemployed. I have had the freedom to do what I want, but that won’t be the case now. I have never been able to handle change, but it’s a part of life. There is no way to avoid it or stop it from happening. We all go on new adventures in our lifetimes and learn something from them.
Being unemployed has been an adventure itself. Many resumes submitted, not many phone calls for interviews. I thought I was never going to get a lead, but I did. I have never done QA testing, but it never hurts to learn new skills that could help you somewhere else in life. I’m glad that I won’t be in a stuffy office environment and filing away paperwork like I have done in the past. I’m glad I won’t be dealing with the public. There are some rude people out there who think you are their servant and you are at their beck and call. I’m more of a behind the scenes person, but sometimes I have to be in the spotlight.
I’m scared, nervous and excited about this new job, but I just have to remind myself it will all be okay. I have stayed closed up in my apartment too long, so it’s time to get out and rejoin society. As some may say ‘Land of the living’. I’ll still have time to work on my book, which is good. I hope to have it ready by the Christmas holidays. I will be self publishing it. There will be both a printed and e-version of it.
I’m ready to take the first step of faith into the unknown.
Last week (3/27/14), a couple of friends posted a link on their Facebook page to a multi-part series of an article published by The Times-Picayune about some former residents of New Bethany Home for Girls filing charges against the minister who ran the place. I sat in shock as I read what they endured while they were there. My interest in this hellhole spilled over into searching the internet for more information. Story after story of physical abuse, sexual abuse and brainwashing by this horrible man, Mack Ford, and his staff left wounds so deep in these people’s lives.
New Bethany, in my eyes, was nothing but a way for Mack Ford to make money and hide behind “religion” to satisfy his sick pedophile fantasies. I put religion in quotes because it is man-made and it kills everything. As a child I was disciplined with a belt if I did anything wrong. I was never whipped or paddled to have my will broke. Apparently Mack Ford saw those forms of discipline in a different way along with the physical abuse inflicted upon the children. In my opinion, beating the crap out of someone because they won’t tell you their name, crying because they were dropped off without any explanation, refuse to eat, or have their will broke is sadistic.
Mack Ford is no man of God!! A man of God wouldn’t stand in the pulpit and call young teen girls derogatory names or constantly tell them they are going to Hell. A man of God wouldn’t force teen girls to perform sexual acts on him. I could go on, but we are all humans and fall short every day. However, that is no excuse for what this sick pedophile and his minions did. Mack Ford knew what he was doing was completely wrong. That is why he would send some of the girls to other places when Child Protection came to investigate allegations of child abuse. There were girls selected and coached what to say to the social worker when they were interviewed. Without him having a license through the state of Louisiana, there was no way they could come in and shut him down. Eventually the school closed indefinitely in 2004.
The thought of not seeing my parents for a long time, having my letters screened, and five minute phone calls each month monitored sends chills down my spine. This place made the parents sign over their rights to them for a year. What the hell!! As a parent myself and having gone through an expensive custody battle, I would never be able to sign my rights over to someone else. There were no medical treatments administered or dental exams done while the girls were there. Prisoners in Angola State Penitentiary probably got better treatment. There is no comparison, but this reminds me of a story I watched about Pennhurst Asylum in Spring City, PA. When that place was opened, it became crowded quickly in a short time. Children there were mistreated and abused, as well as the adult patients. The animals at the zoo got better treatment than the residents there at Pennhurst.
I lived in North Louisiana until I was 12 and then moved to the southern part of the state. Within the 20 years my parents lived in Shreveport, they had never heard of New Bethany Home for Girls. They never heard about it until I told them last week what I read and found out. I was a handful when I was a teenager, but my parents did what they could to help me. My problems were more emotional due to sexual abuse I suffered by a neighbor my parents trusted and adoption issues. I grew in a Baptist home, but it was Southern Baptist, not Independent Fundamental Baptist. That may be the reason they had never heard of that home of Hell. My parents put up with a lot from my brother and me, but I don’t think they would have ever sent us away.
Something must be done to bring Mack Ford to justice. So what if he is 80 something years old, he needs to pay for what he did. He needs to answer to his sins and stop casting blame on others for what happened. The Bienville Parish Sheriff’s Office needs to take action. Louisiana Attorney General Buddy Caldwell’s office needs to be flooded with calls to get something done. There are mounds of legal documents with statements of what happened and took place at New Bethany. The survivors deserve justice and I pray they get that. If it doesn’t happen here on Earth, then it will happen when Mack Ford meets his Maker.
JUSTICE FOR NEW BETHANY SURVIVORS!
17 March, 1981
Music, writing, reading, playing piano and guitar, baking, researching topics that interest me, and daydreaming.
As a small child, I was not a huge fan of music or loud noises due to a sensitivity to loud sounds. When I was 8, I started taking piano lessons. A year later, my piano teacher moved and I never picked back up with lessons until I was 21. When I was 12, I learned to play the clarinet in the school band for a couple of years. By the time I was 14, I switched over to choir. In 2005 I bought my first guitar and amp. I have been trying to teach myself since then and it’s been slow learning doing that.
Ace of Base, Nemesea, Amaranthe, Delain, Within Temptation, Epica
People who inspire you:
Manda Ophuis, Jenny Berggren, Ellen Hopkins
First record you bought:
The Sign- Ace of Base
Ace of Base
30 Seconds to Mars
The list could go on and on….
Black coffee, water, tea, Dr. Pepper, Coke
The Mortal Instruments series
To Kill A Mockingbird
Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe
Places In The Heart
Fried Green Tomatoes
The Shawshank Redemption
13 Going on 30
A Christmas Story
WARNING: MAY CONTAIN POSSIBLE TRIGGERS
1993 was when things started to change in my life. My family and I moved to Baton Rouge that year which was hard on me. I didn’t make friends too easily, and it’s the same today to a certain extent, becoming friends with people easily. I have never been one to follow the latest trends or try to fit in with the crowd; I’m a loner. I guess you could say I was the geeky girl with glasses, who listened to Europop and Eurodance constantly rather than alot of Top 40 radio and was picked on because of it.
I remember in 1994, my mom was concerned about me because I constantly stayed shut up in my room and hardly interacted with anyone. She took me to see a psychologist because she wanted to know what was going on and why I was acting the way I was. She knew about the sexual molestation that happened to me as a child and wondered if it was one of the reasons I isolated myself all the time.
From about the age of 2 or 3 until I was 9, a neighbor my parents trusted took advantage of me. The abuse started when I was starting to potty train. This man would put his hand inside my panties to make sure I didn’t pee on myself. There were times he would act like he had something in his eye and wanted me to see what it was. As soon as I got close, he would kiss me on my lips. As I got a little older, things had gone from just putting his hand in my panties to fondling. He would tell me to go get a blanket from a storage table in the living room and take a nap with him. It was during that time he would fondle me. His wife was in the room while this was going on and seemed like she didn’t suspect anything. The only time he would not touch me was when I had on jeans or a button he would have to undo.
It wasn’t until I was 9 when I got the courage to tell my mother what had been going on. Something clicked in my brain and told me what this man was doing to me was wrong. After I told my mother about the abuse, I had nightmares that this man was chasing after me and would abuse me again. When I was 14, I tried to overdose on pills because I was tired of dealing with the pain I was going through. I felt dirty and that I was nothing but damaged goods. Anytime someone has tried to get close to me, I have shut them out and pushed them away. It’s done out of fear because I am scared that I will get taken advantage of again. Intimacy has also been another problem for me because of the abuse as well. Sexual abuse has a lifelong effect on a person who has gone through it.
As one counselor told me, it has tentacles that reach out into other parts of our lives. Yes, I have been in therapy for the past 20 years and there is nothing wrong about that. You don’t heal overnight from abuse of any form. It’s a lifelong process to go through. As a survivor, I can tell my story and let others out in the world know they’re not alone. I respect other survivors out in the word who have been brave enough to break their silence and share their stories. If you have lived through hell, always remember you’re a survivor.