Several months ago, a group of young women from the Middle East visited northern Minnesota as a part of a State Department-sponsored leadership program.  The women were taken on a tour of a local Mine and I was lucky enough to get to spend some time with them and answer their questions about working in a Mine as a woman.  I’ll always beam with pride at our country when I think about the young woman who raised her hand and asked me, “do the boys take you seriously when you’re talking about science?”  I told her, “yes they do, especially the men my age, who have never thought of girls as anything but their equal.”

It’s easy for someone my age to forget that my generation is the first that didn’t have a huge battle to fight to get where we are.  I took it for granted that I would be able to play sports in high school and take the same classes as the boys and choose my own path later in life, whether that was to be a professional or a mom or both if I damn well pleased.  When I spoke to these girls from countries that are sometimes openly hostile to women, I reminded them that many of the changes in our country were relatively recent and that they were the women who had the potential to make the same dramatic changes that the women before me did.

I wrote in 2009 about working in a Mine as a woman and how 99% of the time, I feel at home.  Occasionally I’ll meet someone at work or in the community that still doesn’t seem overly thrilled that women are working in the Mines, and sometimes that person in the community is a woman.

That’s going to happen.  I’ve accepted that, for some people, they can’t deal with a woman who is perfectly content to go to work everyday and not stay home with children.  (Granted, that’s a whole separate topic for a blog! Oh wait, here it is!).  To me, the critical factor is that it’s my choice what I do with my life and that I have that choice.

I went to a Mining meeting tonight where, quite frankly, there were too few of us double-Xer’s.  I’d love to see more young women getting into science and engineering and staying in those fields.

I’ll continue to reach out to young women and encourage their goals and aspirations, but also, for my 8th day of donation, I’ve selected the American Association of University’s Women (AAUW).  The AAUW’s mission is to advance equity for women and girls through advocacy, education, philanthropy, and research.

Some folks misinterpret my strong feelings about equity to think it’s a bash on stay-at-home-moms.  Not one bit.  Equity means we get a choice.  We’re equal partners, citizens, parents.  Empowerment doesn’t strip us of our femininity or ability to nurture.  It only builds upon what we already have to offer the world.  An empowered mom makes a decision with her husband that is best for her family based on thorough consideration by both partners.

The women that came before me blazed the trail, but if my generation doesn’t keep pushing down that trail, the grass will grow back up.

After Matt’s Grandpa passed away this fall, we had a chance to look through old letters that he had mailed Matt’s Grandma while he was away fighting at World War II.  It was a beautiful view into his life as a young man and as a young soldier.  He was an awesome ol’ timer to talk to and a conversation with him in 2010 inspired this blog posting about the men that never got to come home from the war.  His letters home never were explicit about the dangers he faced and he always protected his wife from the ugly reality of the war.

While fighting overseas, Grandpa was shot twice, once in the forehead and once in the leg, and earned two purple hearts, as well as a bronze star.  In his letter home after one of the events, he wrote that although he was hurt, it really wasn’t too bad.  Only later did Grandma find out how serious the injury was, after Grandpa had spent six months in a hospital!  A local newspaper article from back then highlighted his story and the fact that he had downplayed his injuries to make sure his beloved wife didn’t worry too much.  That’s just the way he was, always strong for her.

He made it back home intact and moved on to have a normal Iron Range life, working at the mines, raising a family.  But what if his injuries had been more destructive?  What if he had lost a limb, or two?  Or was stricken with severe PTSD that limited his ability to function the same way he had before he left for the War?  What then?

When I was in high school, I saw the music video for Metallica’s “One” that cuts in scenes from “Johnny Got His Gun” and was shaken up.  I read the novel “Johnny Got His Gun” and I never trusted a politician ever again.  The book is a first-person (fictional) account of a young man that loses his arms, legs and most of his face (if not all) in a battle.  As he’s laying there on a table unable to speak or make eye contact, you get pulled into his lost mind as he travels from one mental state to another.  The hardest part for me while reading it was knowing that this has happened to soldiers of ours, we just don’t hear about it.

I have no concept of war because I’ve never gone and I’ve never lived through one on our soil.  I don’t have close friends or family in the military and I don’t lay awake at night praying frantically that they will come home.  I have no clue what sacrifices these young men and women have made or are going to make so that I don’t have to understand war.  If I’m lucky, I’ll never know what it’s like to be that scared.  To be that brave.

Because I am this lucky, I owe these soldiers my gratitude.  Their courage allows me to be this clueless about the realities of war.  For that and for the sacrifice they make, I dedicate this 7th day of giving to our soldiers.  It is the anniversary of Pearl Harbor today and in recognition of those young Americans and all the generations who have fought for our country, I am donating to the Wounded Warrior Project.  The stated vision and purpose of the Wounded Warrior Project is “To foster the most successful, well-adjusted generation of wounded service members in our nation’s history. To raise awareness and enlist the public’s aid for the needs of injured service members. To help injured service members aid and assist each other. To provide unique, direct programs and services to meet the needs of injured service members.”  There are so many services provided by this organization that I couldn’t give them all justice, I can only encourage you to visit their website – www.woundedwarriorproject.org and consider the often thankless sacrifice they and their families make for the rest of us so that we can be naive and sometimes painfully ignorant.

Last November, I wrote about my struggle to climb out of a little hole I had fallen into during 2010 courtesy of a few events that had occurred (not my wedding!).  I was luckily able to pull myself out of it, but had I not been able to, I would have been able to access professional help through either our company’s employee assistance program or somewhere else with my health insurance.

Not everyone has that luxury to either 1) be able to pull themselves out (granted, it was a shallow hole) or 2) rely on quality health insurance or EAPs.  Those people may feel they have nowhere to turn.  They’re caught in a trap, battling their brains that are betraying them, perhaps wanting help but becoming more depressed or anxious or upset because they cannot afford the assistance.

Luckily for our community, we have the Human Development Center located in the Twin Ports.  “HDC’s mission is to lead our communities by providing integrated, culturally respectful mental health and addiction services that foster hope, self-determination, and recovery. Our focus on serving those most in need improves the quality of life for all.”

A friend of mine turned to me for help several months ago because she was finally able to admit that she needed counseling to deal with her severe depression, but she didn’t know how she could afford to get help with her barely-more-than-minimum wage job.  It broke my heart because I knew that it had taken her a lot of courage to admit after all these years that she needed help and now she was stuck until she could find a way to pay for counseling.  We were referred to the Human Development Center, where we discovered that they offer a sliding fee scale to those without insurance.  This program very well may have been a life-saver for my friend.

Some people dismiss mental illness as “real” illness.  They think folks are just weak and should be able to push through their issues.  I call shenanigans on that.  Unless you’ve lived with a brain that seems to hate you at times, you simply don’t understand.  Attempt to have some compassion and understand that some folks’ brains are wired differently.  Be thankful that you don’t struggle with anxiety that causes you to not be able to leave your house or depression that causes you to feel no hope or any of the other disabling mental illnesses that exist, such as bipolar or schizophrenia.  Mental illness is as real of a health issue as cancer and deserves as much of our attention.

On my 6th day of giving, I’m choosing the Human Development Center as the recipient because I believe in a community that looks out for others and lends a hand to pull them out of their darkness.  Thank you Melissa S. for letting me know that donations are accepted!

Note: This is the sixth post in a series of 31 highlighting donation opportunities this holiday season.  You can also find the Human Development Center on Facebook to learn more!

The Velveteen Rabbit ain’t got nothin’ on Harvey Jarvey.  Although… the last time I checked, Harvey Jarvey still was a stuffed animal and hasn’t been turned into a real raccoon through the love of a little girl all grown up (or grown older).

What’s that you ask?  Who the heck is Harvey Jarvey?  Well, let me introduce you with a picture of what appears to be a little boy and his stuffed raccoon (aka Harvey Jarvey).  I assure you that’s me, if the devilish grin doesn’t give it away (oh, and the bright red hair).

That stuffed animal somehow survived my childhood and although his fur is nowhere as soft now as it once was, he still has a place in my home and my heart.  He was my buddy, my pal and was forced to listen to me read many many books to him.  He gave me a good home or I gave him one (or both?).

Isn’t that what every toy deserves?  If you don’t think so, then you’re probably in the 1% who didn’t cry at Toy Story 3, ya’ mean bugger.

So how do we get these toys to kids that will love them like crazy?

We donate to Toys for Tots, that’s how.

The Marine Toys for Tots has a pretty simple mission – get these toys a home.  And I guess a kid or two might also get a smile from it.

98% of the donations go directly to helping out the toys, errr… children.  98%!  That’s an incredible percentage for a charity!  You can donate toys, money or your time and know that 98% of it is going to provide toys, books and other gifts to children who will otherwise have a less-than-awesome Christmas.  98%!

If you’d like to donate, there are various drop-off locations on the Iron Range (and other places if you aren’t from up here).  Michael Hames is our local coordinator if you’d like to find a location close to the Range.  His phone numbers are 218.885.5010 and 218.969.9367 and his email is mjhames54@yahoo.com.  You can also donate money online or your time if you have any and you’re willing to share.

Although I’m writing this today and donating money, I filled out the volunteer request form so hopefully I’ll hear back and get a chance to volunteer either after work next week or during the day on my week off before Christmas.

After all, those toys aren’t going to find homes by themselves!

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This post was inspired by Harvey Jarvey.  Oops, I mean my mom (bwah ha ha) who taught me the importance of donating toys to this charity when I was younger.  I remember her always dropping off toys for children who probably deserved them a lot more than her smart-aleck daughter did!

Note: This is the fifth post in a series of 31 highlighting donation opportunities this holiday season. 

We live in a small home, barely more than 1000 square feet, and one of our greatest challenges to maintaining an orderly home is our lack of big closets, a basement or a garage.  We spend our money on stuff and then even if we never use it, wear it or gaze upon it, we still struggle to get rid of it.

What an awful problem we (and many others) have – too much clutter.  People will hire professional organizers, religiously watch shows on HGTV that teach them how to declutter, purchase shelf after shelf to find a home for all of their stuff.  Seriously?!

Matt decided it was time to do a little decluttering here.  We didn’t expect it to be an hour or two of entertainment, but alas, it was.  And not just for the “Fat Guy in a Little Coat” moments (although there were a few when Matt attempted to try on dress shirts that were apparently purchased for someone at least 4 inches shorter and a few pounds thinner and yes, I asked permission before writing that!).  It was also helpful (after I stopped grumbling) to have him point out that certain, very pretty shirts of mine had never been worn even once.  “Give up the dream Julie.  You haven’t worn that yet, you never will.  And it’s not even “you” to start with so give it up and make room for another t-shirt.”

Sigh…

He was right.  We both had a lot that we had never even worn and would never wear in the future, even if I lose that last 10 pounds.  It’s not easy to go through your home and be honest with yourself, but it’s good to do.  Ideally it will teach you a few questions to ask yourself the next time you’re standing in Target at an endcap where something you didn’t even know existed before you entered the store is 20% off and you really think you need it.

So we did a purging and Goodwill in Virginia has 3 stuffed garbage bags packed with clothes.  It felt great to get rid of clothes that we really would never wear and that will be appreciated by people.  Plus it’s nice to have some additional closet space!

Many folks are used to donating gently used goods to Goodwill, but does everyone know what they do with the money they earn through sales of clothes or other objects that were just taking up space in your home?

In their own words, “the sales of your donations help fund job training programs, employment placement services and other community-based programs for people who have disabilities, lack education or job experience, or face employment challenges.”  84% of their revenue is used to fund their employment and training programs, which is definitely a positive for them as an organization.  In addition to helping out folks through donations, you are also helping out the environment by carrying out the 3rd “R” in “Reduce, Reuse, Repurpose.”

Please do check that your donated good meets their criteria though.  When I worked at my previous job that was located next door to a Goodwill, it drove me nuts to see how much stuff has to get thrown away by them everyday because people brought things in that were unsellable for various reasons.  Donating to Goodwill shouldn’t be used because you don’t want to pay landfill fees.  Please also remember that folks who are purchasing clothes from Goodwill deserve clothing that isn’t stained or torn or last appropriate in 1976.  It doesn’t help the cause if you’re donating stuff that can’t be worn.  You’re just causing an extra expense for them to get rid of stuff.  If something isn’t Goodwill appropriate, perhaps you should try Freecycle to get it out of your house.  It’s a free service that hooks you up with folks who just might enjoy that end table you picked up in 1992.  You’d be amazed at what some people can repurpose!

“If you realize that you have enough, you are truly rich” – Tao Te Ching

Note: This is the fourth post in a series of 31 highlighting donation opportunities this holiday season. 

As regular readers (and friends) know, my life’s passion is finding and maintaining a balance between environmental protection and requisite industry that both provide for our high quality-of-life.  I partly have a precious book written in 1967 to thank for that drive and desire.

One of my babysitters gave me the book and I’ve read it front-to-back approximately 767,000 times (+1 for tonight’s reading)

It is a wonderfully written book about conservation and reading it now, I understand how it became one of the contributing factors towards me ending up as an environmental professional working for a mining company.  It discusses selective harvesting, proper mining, air pollution control, and many other topics (including the potential use of “atomic power” someday!).  It breaks down complicated subjects into terms that children can understand and it showed children that although things weren’t great environmentally in 1967, they had the ability to make things better.

Obviously I took that message to heart.  And obviously those children did make things better.

We ask children all the time “what do you want to be when you grow up?”  When did you know what you wanted to be when you grew up?  Are you still trying to answer that question?

I never knew as a child that someday I would want to speak mostly in acronyms – NAAQS, NPDES, RCRA.  All I knew was that I loved being outside.  I loved forests, streams, lakes and warm, humid summer evenings laying outside on the dewy grass watching fireflies.

In 6th grade, my whole class spent almost a week up at the Wolf Ridge Environmental Learning Center.  A week of walking through the woods, climbing rock walls, learning how to “read scat.”  It was an incredible experience and I didn’t want it to end.  It was many years ago – more than 20, so the details are sketchy.  The key part is that I remember how the instructors made me feel.  How they calmly talked me down the rock wall after I climbed to the top, looked down and promptly started crying (true and oh-so-embarrassing story).  How they explained how to use a compass and a map so that I could find my way confidently through the woods (a skill I still use regularly).  And I remember how the woods made me feel.

Alive.

The Wolf Ridge Environmental Learning Center is an educational center with a mission “to develop a citizenry that has the knowledge, skills, motivation and commitment to act together for a quality environment.”  There are difficult questions we have to answer when we’re adults and having a solid science background gives us the skills to have difficult conversations and make difficult decisions.  Wolf Ridge ELC helps to build that solid science foundation and that is why I chose to become a member for my 3rd day of giving.

I wanted to give back to the organization that led me to where I am today.

Protecting the porcupine.

Note: This is the third post in a series of 31highlighting donation opportunities this holiday season.  Who helped inspire your career or your hobbies/interests that drive you as an adult?

 

 

I try to be light-hearted when I blog.  I enjoy making people smile, laugh a little, or at the very least, shake their head in amusement.  There is no light-hearted side to the trafficking of humans though.  No way to discuss it without being serious.  Without being upset.  Without feeling rage that other human beings can have the capacity to destroy other humans’ souls.

Last night’s event in Duluth to support A Beautiful Rescue was soul-opening for me and I’m finding it difficult to put my emotions into sentences that fit together.

I’m angry.

I’m scared.

Mostly I’m angry.

I’m angry that in our vanilla, white-bread world, people can dismiss that sex trafficking happens around them.  In Duluth.  Probably on the Range.  This isn’t just a problem in Cambodia or Thailand.  It’s here.  In our backyards.

I’m angry that those of us in sheltered, protected worlds haven’t acknowledged that women caught in that world deserve to be rescued away.  That they didn’t ask for that life.  That they may have been led to it by their own parents.  Or family.  Or friends.  They may have been kidnapped.  They may have been runaways who were viewed as prey and then became preyed upon.  They may be survivors of sexual assault who don’t see that their lives have value beyond what their bodies can offer.

I’m angry at men for preying on these women and creating their lives as they now are.  I’m angry at men who use prostitutes without questioning if they are there by choice.  Or if there is a man watching them from a distance who will later take the money she earns for letting that john pick away at what remains of her soul.  I’m angry at the father who didn’t guide his son properly.  Who didn’t teach his son that women are human too.  And deserve respect and love and protection from forces physically stronger than them.

I’m angry at women who judge.  Who think women caught in sex trafficking deserve what they get.  Who think the majority of those women chose that life for themselves.  Who think it doesn’t matter because it’s underground/subculture/less-thans.  Who think that they and the women they love are above it.  Who think it couldn’t happen to them or someone they love.  Who don’t teach their sons the same lessons the father should teach.

I’m angry at myself.  That I had no recognition of the horror that exists right in front of me.

But I’m also proud.

I’m proud of the men and women who are stepping up to rescue these trapped women and work through all of the challenges of rewiring their minds so that they see their value in the world.  I’m proud of the men and women who have raised their children to respect people.  And love people.  I’m proud of the men who DO respect women.

I love my little vanilla, white-bread world where my nieces are safely tucked in every night in their homes.  Where they are innocent.  Where they have faith that people are good.  It would destroy me if they were ever lost to this other world that exists around us.  I would be unstoppable.

I should be anyways.

Those women who are caught in the sex-trafficking trade are someone’s nieces, their daughters, their cousins, their friends.  They are human beings.  21st-century sex slaves.  Former little girls who used to be tucked in at night with their foreheads kissed.  Former little girls with innocence and faith that the world was good.

I don’t want to live in a world where we’re okay with this happening.  Do you?

For more information about A Beautiful Rescue and other organizations dedicated to ending sex trafficking and restoring women, please check out the following sites:

A Beautiful Rescue
PAVSA
God’s Child Project
Somaly Mam Foundation

My 2nd day of giving was inspired by my friend Jody, who is dedicated to restoring these women’s lives.  Thank you Jody for opening my eyes to this tragedy.

Note: This is the second half of my second post in a series of 31 highlighting donation opportunities this holiday season.

Friday night at the Zeigeist Arts Cafe in Duluth – Standing Together Against Human Trafficking

I’ll be there and hopefully some of you will be too.  A follow-up blog regarding my experience at the event and more information about my 2nd Day of Giving will be posted Saturday, December 3rd along with my 3rd Day of Giving posting.

Note: This is the first half of the second post in a series of 31 highlighting donation opportunities this holiday season.

Were you aware that “love” is actually spelled f-o-o-d?

You were already if you’re related to my Grandma Klejeski or were ever a guest at her home.

Walking into the front door, the first three words that greeted me were never “how are you?” but rather “are you hungry?”  I’d stand in the doorway of the kitchen and say, “nah Grandma, I just ate lunch” and 11 times out of 10 she’d respond, “you just look too skinny, are you sure you don’t want a sandwich?”

“Seriously Grandma, I promise I’m not hungry.”

“There’s ice cream bars in the freezer.”

“Well, I might have a little room left,” snickering as I went over to the freezer to pull out the Schwan’s bars or push-ups or ice cream sandwiches.

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My grandparents never had a lot of money, but they took pride in knowing that their family and friends weren’t going to leave their home hungry.  Unfortunately, many Minnesota families aren’t able to have that same level of comfort that they did.

Feeding America estimates that 1 in 10 Minnesotans is “food-insecure” and may not always know where their next meal is coming from.  40% of those seeking hunger relief are children under the age of 18 and 35% of the households seeking hunger relief include at least one employed adult. (Source: Hunger-free Minnesota).    In St. Louis County alone, the food insecurity rate is 13.8%  with 38% of those individuals ineligible for federal nutrition assistance.

It can be tempting to dismiss these needs.  Shrug your shoulders and say, “why should I help out people who can’t get off their couch and get a job?” or “don’t I pay taxes to help out hungry people?”  It’s easy to be smug and tell ourselves that we’re supposed to be teaching people to fish, not giving them fish.  Convince ourselves that we’re morally superior because we have stocked pantries and probably waste more food in a week than they eat in a week.

Am I saying there aren’t people who manipulate the system and ARE too lazy to get jobs?  Oh heck no.

They are the exception though.  Not the rule.  And just like we all get fired up when one person’s bad behavior makes life more difficult for us (i.e., irresponsible snowmobilers), we cannot let our disdain for the few manipulative (expletive deleted) prevent us from looking out and lending a hand to all the folks that are choosing between food, rent, medications and other necessities.  Few people choose to be “needy.”  They wanted to provide for their family, but they lost their job when the economy crashed.  Or their son was born prematurely and they had already gone past their insurance maximum by the time he was 2 years old.  Or they were stay-at-home moms who were widowed early.  Or they are someone’s grandparent who lost their pension and is now struggling to make it on a limited social security paycheck while food and medicine costs keep climbing.

They are us.  They are our neighbors.  And they don’t have the basic comfort of knowing there will be food to feed themselves and their family.

Join the Hunger-Free Minnesota Movement.

Tell your friends about it.

Donate where you live.

In Northeastern Minnesota, we have the Second Harvest Northern Lakes Food Bank that services 200 NE Minnesota and NW Wisconsin non-profit agencies, including on the Iron Range.  They accept donations of money ($1.00 = approximately 5 meals!) or food and are looking for volunteers.  You also have the option of joining the “Harvester’s Monthly Giving Club” which allows you to automatically have a donation transferred every month from your credit card or bank account.

My 1st day of giving is in honor/memory of my Grandma Klejeski, who shared her love and great cooking with me.  She is the reason I repeatedly ask guests, “are you sure you’re not hungry?”  This choice for the first day was also inspired by Aaron Brown who recently wrote about the challenges faced by the Hibbing Food Shelf.

Here’s the site for money donations – the minimum donation amount, $25, equals 125 meals!  How awesome is that?

Note: This is the first post in a series of 31 highlighting donation opportunities this holiday season.

My favorite thing about my 31 Days of Giving Project has been the open opportunity to talk to people about what they are passionate about in life, as exemplified by the charities/organizations they encourage me to support and/or support themselves.

The father, whose daughter survived cancer as a child and is now a healthy young woman, suggesting that I donate to St. Jude’s and the Children’s Cancer Research Fund.

The mother with a keen sense of empathy who funnels her energy towards ending human trafficking.

The globally-minded friend that believes in the sustainability of gifts from Heifer International.

When we pay our taxes, we don’t get to indicate where we want that money to go and unfortunately, sometimes we financially support groups that don’t align with our values.  So how do you balance that out?

Sometimes you get lucky and you get to have a career that allows you to make a difference in an arena that means a lot to you, which is why I won’t be focusing many donations towards environmental groups.  That leaves me with everything else that matters to me as well as the people that matter to me.  You’ll see some familiar local groups highlighted, some well-known national groups, and a few totally random groups.

“Put your money where your mouth is”

Umm… Okay