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Edition 1 * July 4, 2000




FIRST ISSUE! by WACIPI

It's here! The first issue of Amaranth Womyn's Magazine and you won't be disappointed.

Writers, journalists, professionals and members of AW have submitted articles, stories, poems and antedotes you won't want to miss. AW Magazine is full of information you can use, stories you will enjoy. And, we are always looking for new talent.

In our premier issue you will find the famous lesbian cartoon "OUT THERE" by Elizabeth Davis and Tina Sanders. These 2 womyn are published world wide and have offered their cartoon series to AW! We can't thank them enough for their generosity and participation. In addition to supplying AW with our cartoon series, writers Sanders & Davis will be running the articles for the Entertainment and Review Page. This month's feature - NY Pride Parade where they will be sharing their experiences and view of the parade events.

Get your questions ready! Lillith is our Horoscope expert with an attitude. She is the writer of a syndicated question and answer column Gayscopes. There is a link provided to make requests directly to her. Questions will be featured in the next issue.

Some articles are written by AW members who we have discovered have a wonderful talent for making daily life and the obvious both humorous and enlightening. Thanks to Mercy for her delightful contributions and her views from the crone's nest in The Merciful Crone. And to Snack for sharing her insights about love in Love Bytes. Snack holds a BS in Sociology from the University of Houston.

Political and social satire is written by Batzz with her straight forward, direct from the hip approach in Everything and Nothing More. Be prepared to have your horizons broadened, your cackle hairs rise and your mind twisted. Batzz holds a BA in English from Lockhaven University.

Social issues which plague our community and the world in general is written by our own Froggie in Another Country Heard From. Froggie is a most interesting womyn who has lived around the world, experienced political scenes that you and I only read about in the papers, and she is an Attorney in France with a journalism background, holds her Masters in Law and 2 Post Masters in Criminology and Communications from Pantheon Sorbonne in Paris, France. She has been a member of the Paris Bar since 1980 and is working on her PhD in Law. She has also completed studies in Victimology from Buenos Aires in 1995 and speaks 4 languages. She currently resides in the US with her partner where she is now working on yet another degree. As a political activist she has much to offer and we certainly appreciate her writing for AW.

HexAngyl is our featured writer for the Womyn's Health column. HexAngyl is a licensed nurse who has worked extensively with geriatrics, pediatrics and the physically and mentally handicapped. You will find her articles both interesting and informative.

Poetry is written by some of AW's most creative members; Love Poems by Connie and Poems of the Heart by ~FParis for starters. You will love their candor, rhyme and chime as you see your own moments mirrored in their work.

The story of Amaranth Womyn is a short one. AW is new, alive and growing strong. With the introduction of our first issue of the Amaranth Womyn Magazine we would also like to announce a project which is currently under way... the Amaranth Womyn Radio Broadcast. A launch date has not yet been established as a good deal of work is ahead of us in creating the shows which will air from radio365. As a matter of convenience you will be able to pick our station up on most any player which you have downloaded onto your computer, including G2 Real Player, Yahoo and many others.

AW is a lesbian community which has a good deal to offer its members. We are womyn of substance and this magazine is our place to promote womyn's talents; a place for womyn to blossom. We look forward to your comments and encourage you to e-mail us your thoughts.

Thanks again to the many contributors and the wonderful womyn who helped create Amaranth Womyn; the site, the magazine and our future. I know I will be put on ignore for this, but I'll say it anyway... Special thanks to Toooquiet for her input, graphics and technical support of this magazine.

Wacipi, Editor






Alpha Bitches by SNACK
Adventures of Two Crazy Lesbians

You’re about to embark on a journey into the lives of two strange (akin to the twilight zone) lesbians and their relationship. Since you can only truly write about what you know, you’ll get to know me more than you ever truly wanted!

Ancient History

To bring you up to date to where we are today, I’ll start with a little history. We’re one of those new-fangled internet romances that hit it off and we took it from online to 3-D. It’s been a crazy bumpy ride thus far, and I see no end to the speed bumps in sight! We’ve been together for one year, 2 months, and 24 days... as of today. I had to go count on the calendar because I’m really horrible about knowing things like that. On the other hand, Batzz, idiot savant that she is, can ponder for about 10 seconds on that kind of question and spit out, to the minute, how long we’ve been together, my first words to her, what I ate for breakfast four months ago, and the exact total of last week’s grocery bill!

We just started living with each other and it seems life is out to get us right from the start. I won’t go into details, yet, but I feel like this is Clash of the Titans, and I’m one of those damned chess pieces getting moved around by the gods’ whimsy.

Fate or Coincidence?

I don’t really believe in Fate. Nor do I believe in coincidence. I believe everything happens for a reason, and that I should learn something from it, but I don’t really know why things happen when and where they do. Batzz is a firm believer in Fate, and She’s a grim old harpy who has it in for us.

Take, for example, our cars. I have an extinct old land yacht from the days when driving was a luxury and nobody wanted to be bothered with little gauges on their dashboard, so they installed what I lovingly refer to as “idiot lights.” Translation: when the light goes on, it’s too late to salvage whatever part has just died. Batzz has a fairly sturdy Jeep, but the ol’ girl didn’t quite make it from the Northeast down here to Texas. As we were driving through Alabama, singing to Queen at the top of our lungs, we heard something akin to a shotgun blast. Obviously not something two queers want to hear whilst driving through rural Alabama. I pulled over and luckily it had been one of the bungee cords popping off the roof. Unluckily, the car was smoking like it had just come off a 10 year celibacy kick. We peeked underneath and oil was splattered all over the road and the underside of the jeep. We made it to Texas despite everything, but we were keeping a close eye on the oil gauges and temperature. We thought we were home-free once the move was done, but then that Harpy Bitch pulled a string. Tap. Tap. Tap. Taptaptaptaptaptap... The engine now keeps a marching beat wherever we go. Sigh.

I think we’re going to send Fate a fruitcake for Christmas.



The Classified Crone by MERCY

Well, today for a lark, I *traveled* through cyberspace to one of the realllllllllly big lesbian sites. And while there, I decided to look through the classifieds. Hmmm, who knows, maybe there is someone out there for me!

There were all sorts of options, but I chose to read ads from lesbians from all over ranging in age from 45-99. Being a crone myself, and realizing that it was highly unlikely that my *soon-to-be-soulmate* was going to be found among the younger, I thought that at least I would have something in common with these womyn.

Wrong!

First off, not a one of them had that dyke institution known as *baggage* Yeah right! Some of them have lived over a half century and they have no baggage???? More than likely they just forgot where they left it! Either that, or they have spent most of those years in therapy, and now describe it fondly as *life experiences!*

They were all in marvelous shape too! Even the ones that described themselves as *larger than average* were always quite muscular. No sagging here! I look around in disbelief. Is this possible??? Is the average older dyke built like Tina Turner? Where are the ones who would be likely to say to me, *Honey, if you help me up, I will help you up! Or, perhaps, *oh honey...let's just stay in bed! * It seemed they all walked miles a day. Nobody said that their exercise consisted of going from one side of Walmart to the other and front to back all on the same day! All those muscular womyn could do for me would be to call an ambulance after I had passed out from lack of oxygen as I tried to hold my stomach in.

None of them admitted to some of the other changes that sometimes occur as we get ummm riper? Nobody said *You will love to giggle with me and we can both cross our legs tight if we get really tickled* Nobody said, *I will be more than happy to share my Beano with you on the nights that we decide to go out for Mexican food* Spirituality was also mentioned often. There were a variety of beliefs and they were all important. One womon even mentioned that she meditated several hours a day. Well now, wouldn't that be fun? I couldn't decide whether she could do this while I was at work or while I was asleep. Yeah buddy, that's what I am looking for.......a partner who is sitting in front of a candle/gazingball/oceanic view going Ommmmmmm for hours out of every day.

They all seemed to agree that fireplaces were lovely on winter evenings, and the beach won many raves. Of course, any number of them seemed to be hoping that *I* would provide these amenities. Sorry, in Oklahoma there aren't any ocean beaches.....but we can have a fire. Mebbe...if I suddenly get to add a fireplace to my house. Or, if I drop a cigarette down between the sofa cushions. Travel was often mentioned as a joy in their lives. And not just traveling over the weekend. Oh no....it was safaris and cruises. Ooops...there was nobody that was dying to go for a ride to the next town in an aging Buick. : (

Animals seemed to be a fairly common denominator. The legendary cats, any number of dogs, and quite a few horses. One person stated that *You will enjoy riding with me at sunset, and we will together enjoy all the things that make horse ownership so rewarding.* Sweetie, you're talking about mucking out stalls. That wasn't a heck of a lot of fun when I had horses, and back when I would actually agree to handling a pitchfork!

Not that they were all country lovers. There were any number of city lovers, who attended every cultural activity known in that area. Season tickets, I am sure. Most of them assumed that I had lots of ummm for the lack of a better word, sexual experience. Well darlin, I was a late bloomer. And, although I have certainly had experience, I am not sure that I have done or know of every trick in the book. So...either you let me experiment, or you pretend not to see when I rapidly turn the pages of the orange Lesbian Sex Book that I have stashed on my side of the bed.

Smoking was also a NoNo. So I am assuming that even if I could offer a spirtual safari to a land in which my belly would be flat and there would be no sagging flesh; where there would be an ocean view and sleek horses, I would be rejected. I ponder....Do I dare add the following personal ad? 55 year old crone with some experience ISO special crone who creaks in the mornings and laughs in the evenings. Baggage is OK...we can store it in the basement and bring it up if our lives need a little added drama. Hard muscular bodies are not necessary. I have a piece of plywood under my mattress that supplies support for my back. A tender loving heart and welcoming arms would be appreciated though.

We will have adventures when we travel to nearby cities to see how their Walmarts are arranged. We will enjoy quiet evenings at home and if I can't get a fireplace installed, I will let you sit closest to the furnace vent. I have cable and there are any number of cultural events on A&E and some of the other channels, but you will also allow me to watch my forensic investigator shows in order that we do not slip behind on scientific matters.

Your pets are welcome, and litter box chores will be divided according to who can bend over the farthest on any given day.

Normal bodily functions are appreciated and revered. It's always nice to know everything is working properly if sometime a bit noisy. Humor, kindness, passion, and integrity are necessary. Teeth are optional.



NY Pride Parade by SANDERS-DAVIS

Freshly showered, car filled to the brim, we began our pilgrimage at 4 am. We were headed to New York City for the 31st Annual Pride Parade. This was only my second parade, but I felt a strange type of connection that went beyond the strong “Lesbian Pride” that I normally feel. This parade began the summer that I was born, and I liken its’ changes to my changes… growing strong and proud as time goes by.

Prior to this day, my partner and I had immersed ourselves in Pride Month. Between the Sundance Channel and Bravo, along with our own collection of gay and lesbian movies, I think we watched just about everything that has been filmed. Good, bad, stereotypical, all genres that include a gay character were included in our festival. June has come to be our holiday season, with the Parade our Christmas. It’s the one time of the year where I feel that the world is normal. This world may only consist of two cable channels between 8pm - 12am, the blocks on the parade route and Greenwich Village, but this world is one we are happy to join for the 30 days of pride month.

Our four-hour drive went by in a flash, the music of Donna Summer and Melissa still in our minds as we arrived at my mother-in-law’s apartment in Queens. With quick hugs and hellos, we excused ourselves to walk the three blocks to the Train. Being raised in a small country town upstate, the Subway continues to be a foreign world to me, and I am completely at my partners’ mercy when it comes to getting around the city. Rushing into the car, I settled into my seat and almost immediately thought of my prior knowledge of the “Gay Parade”, which was well before I came out. The media would show clips of the parade on the news, half naked people and the protesters in front of St. Patrick’s Cathedral, no wonder the public has such a negative image! Last year at my first parade I was almost a bit frightened, waiting for an explosion of naked gays and lesbians screaming and yelling… well, obviously that never happened, and I was lucky if I saw one pair of breasts.

Walking up the cement steps at 5th. Avenue was like walking into “Gay Land”! My eyes were immediately met with those beautiful block-long strings of rainbow balloons. There’s something almost surreal about seeing these, and having them be the symbol that welcomed me couldn’t have been more perfect. The one thing about New York City in general that I love is all of the different cultures and beliefs that come together in one city, and this parade is the perfect example of this! Thousands of smiling faces, all different shapes and colors. No violence, no arguments, no “sectioning” of like people. There was even a healthy smattering of straight couples. I silently wondered if my partner and I would have been met with the same acceptance if we had appeared hand in hand at a “straight” parade!

As we walked down 5th Avenue my partner made a comment about how incredible it was to be holding each other as we walked down the famous Avenue, and we gripped each other a little tighter in our own private state of satisfaction as we entered the “heart” of the parade. Bands were practicing, dancers were warming up, statuesque drag queens were fixing their costumes. We stopped for a bit and watched the Brazilian group as they worked up a sweat. Drums and dancers, they were able to capture the very essence of carnivalle, their sexual identity melted away, as their talent as pure performers took hold.

We continued our trek, trying to find a spot in the packed streets. St. Patrick’s Cathedral didn’t let any of us down on their rigid stand on “homosexuality”. The entire block the church sat on was blocked off; we couldn’t even walk on the sidewalks. As we stood in the hot sun waiting to cross to the other side, this obstacle soon turned into a minor inconvenience as the “31st. Annual Pride Parade” was announced over the loudspeaker. Cheers and clapping followed, and we all remembered why we were here, to celebrate our pride, our diversity… not to fight a battle of ignorance. Not today anyway.

Settling behind a barricade, spring water in one hand, my partner in the other, we were ready for the show, and they certainly did not let us down. There are no words that can describe the level of talent when all of us “gays” get together! Music that made your body move uncontrollably to the beat, even though the temperature was well over 90 degrees. Floats sporting perfectly toned men and women, singers and dancers. If there was a talent it was showcased here, all with the message of pride in who you are, not only as a gay person, but as a diverse individual. Everyone cheered with great respect as the Stonewall Vets came through. Truly, they are our “parents”. They obviously felt the crowd’s unanimous “thank you” as they rode by, heads held high, waving and smiling.

2:00 brought one minute of silence for all of those we’ve lost along the way. The parade was full of groups dedicating themselves to not only finding a cure for AIDS, but also those who unselfishly give of themselves to enhance and better the lives of those living with the disease. Naturally I wondered why these people never made the news! We all may have lost some wonderful, beautiful people due to ignorance and inactivity, but their presence was felt as the crowd cheered 60 seconds later, in a celebration of their life and their memory.

Then my favorite part of the parade passed by, the most moving part for me. The PFLAG groups began to proudly march, signs in hand blaring “We love our gay son just the way he is!” I’m not ashamed to say that these groups always bring more than a few tears to my eyes. To have that kind of love, acceptance and support is something that we all seek, and for just a moment these people are able to give just a small bit of that to everyone in the crowd. This is why I personally make the pilgrimage each year, to be with my own. To enter a world where you’re not only accepted exactly how you are, but you’re diversity is actually celebrated! No strange looks, no covering up, just the freedom to be who you are, and to love who you choose.

We left the parade hot, sweaty and sunburned, and thoroughly proud of who we were. The yearly parade is our “transfusion” of normalcy. For one day we are able to enter a world free from prejudices, judgment and scorn. Not only for the gay community, but also for the worlds’ community as a whole. Our car full of rainbow stickers and gay flags, we were confident and proud of who we were, and more than ready to take on our little town upstate.

Of course we did manage to get lost for four hours between the Bronx and New Jersey on the way home, but that’s another story!



Pre-Menopause by HEXANGYL

This article is the first in a series of three which are meant to be both informative and helpful to you. In this issue we will deal with the symptoms and treatments associated with pre-menopause.

DEFINITION:

The term menopause by definition is merely the cessation of menses (menstrual periods). A better and broader understanding of the word menopause is that it is a period of time (no pun intended) in a woman's life, approximately between the age of 35-58, where women physiologically, psychologically, and emotionally shift gears as hormone production changes.

YOU KNOW IT'S COMING WHEN...

- Your periods become irregular. Some of us menstruate more frequently and some of us skip periods.

- You begin to have "hot flashes" (flushes) and sweats of the face, neck, and upper body, and excessive perspiration - especially at night.

- You begin to notice vaginal changes such as decrease of moisture and elasticity.

- You may have stress incontinence or urinary frequency.

- You have joint pain, backaches, and headaches.

- You experience insomnia which is usually a result of the "hot flashes".

Not all women have all of the above symptoms (Thank Goodness!), but 40-70% have hot flashes while 49% have episodes of excessive sweating. The most common sign that we are entering the perimanopausal period is menstrual irregularity. The majority of us experience a decrease of bleeding with each period and the cycles become spaced further apart.

TREATMENT:

While there is little we can do that really treats menopause as such, we can treat the symptoms which can be very annoying.

The following are traditional treatments for the various symptoms. For hot flashes it is recommended that you use a fan, a cold washcloth or a cold shower, and sleeping naked or even walking around naked will definately cool you off! For the joint pain you may wish to take over-the-counter anti-inflammatory meds such as Advil, Ibuprofen, or Motrin. There are also prescription meds for inflammation which your doctor may prescribe.

Additionally, there are non-traditional treatments and alternative remedies. For hot flashes you can add such items to your diet as tofu, green soy beans, and other soy products which contain phytoestrogens, which is an estrogen-like compound found in plants. NOTE: Tofu has 10 times as much phytoestrogens as soy drinks. For the joint pain gammalinolenic acid from borage seed oil and evening primrose oil may decrease the tenderness, swelling, and pain of the joints. Topical Capsicum from chili peppers incorporated into a cream applied directly to the joints helps to relieve the ache. Since it is derived from a chili pepper, it does sting some when applied. Gluten free vegan diets which excludes all foods from animal sources - meat, dairy, eggs, etc. ( a little harsh for me though) is also said to minimize the pain. Fish and fish oil - requires large quantities of capsules (10-18 grams per day) or oily type fish such as salmon, mackerel, sardines, or bluefish 3 times a week. These fish oil capsules and fish are natural blood thinners and anti-inflammatory agents. Zinc also reduces joint pain, swelling, and stiffness.

In conclusion, I want to point out that there are other medical conditions that can mimmick pre-menopausal symptoms and, therefore, you should seek out medical advice before deciding that menopause is indeed what you are experiencing.


GayScopes by LILLITH

In this space, of the next issue, I will answer your Horoscope questions concerning love, life and happiness.

If you have a question for "Ask Lillith", please e-mail me directly at the link below.

Include your question and date of birth. I will NEVER reveal ANY of your personal information!

I will do my best to answer as many of your questions as possible!

For your monthly horoscope visit the Lillith GayScopes Site HERE.

Random Musings of Growing up
With Fagorra Finebitch by BATZZ

There's a big mean looking guy at the door.  His name is probably Dominic or Angelo.  He takes your money every night and  no doubt pays his pals for protection.  Look around.  This is the only man you will usually see in here.  A little further to the east, on another Village street, is a similar establishment but they have a restaurant upstairs.  There too, the clientele are all women.

Women in all shapes, colors, sizes.  Some are so crunchy they could shatter teeth, hippie cotton dresses from India, sandal clad feet and legs that never saw a razor.  There are the lumberjack girls in tight fitting bell bottomed jeans with t-shirts or plaid flannel shirts.  Others are poured into the finest synthetics money can buy, 3-piece leisure suits for the butch babes and shiny faux satin for the femme foofs. They're doing the Hackensack Hustle to the tune of Van McCoy.  Smoke hangs heavy above the packed dance floor.  The sound system is awful, not nearly as good as the Limelight up the street, but who wants to watch a bunch of fag hags hanging all over their latest "boyfriend"?  No, this is where the real lesbians are.  To think, we have the Italian-Americans to thank for making this all possible.  Otherwise, where would we go ?  So every night we cram inside and take our place at the trough, shelling out way too much money for watered down drinks and grateful for a place to hang out.  There's still a certain paranoia that runs through everyone like a current.  You can see it in their faces.  It's not simply the "fresh meat" look that people get when the door opens.  No, it hasn't been all that long since the raids stopped.  You get sort of used to checking the rear exit door to make sure it's clear.  Fire isn't the only thing to worry about.  A few big bikers or thugs can do a ton of damage with a barstool and a couple of cue sticks if they can get a foot in the door.

Outside on a park bench at Sheridan Square.  Across the street next to Village Cigars, an old woman in a very tattered and dirty baby blue polyester gown takes her place each Saturday night.  She has to be at least 70 years old, her face caked with make up.  Was that a wig she wore ?  I can't remember.  She stands on a little blanket singing her heart out in the best soprano she can muster.  What did we call her ?  Opera Mary ?  It's been so long.  People, most gay men, throw money at her as they pass, some even stop to listen. 

There has to be some alternative to this bar scene.  Some nights., I think I'm going to turn into a mushroom in that stinking dark cave.  I drink too much.  How come there's no place to just go sit and have coffee ?  Even better, how come there's no place to go have coffee and talk with other women where you don't have to shout above that one, two, three, four disco beat ?

~~hump..hump..bump..grind...hump..hump..bump..grind. 

I want to sit outside and listen the to the rhythm of the city, the sound of chatter and of laughter.  I want to talk about this book I just bought over there at Oscar Wilde.  I want to lament with other women who read and think in a social setting, and not in some damn consciousness raising group.  I want to complain about waiting months for a new lesbian book or magazine to appear on the shelves.  There has to be something else.  Something better.  My "friends" in the bars don't want to talk about books.  They want to know if I have a joint and do I want to go for a walk out to the alley.  They all think I'm strange anyway How come they never play rock and roll  ? 

Twenty five years. Fast forward.   Women still crowd into loud smoke filled clubs.  That's cool.  Some mornings I wake up and curse my body for getting old.  I try to balance it all out in my head.  Would I really want to trade all of the things I know now, and the things I have seen for a chance to be 20 again ?  I can still slip into something a little urban and chic and dance all night if I tried hard.  I can go sit in a Gay and Lesbian bookstore, sip Café Mocha and find people who want to talk about everything from Pop Culture to the weather.  I can rent a lesbian video, or go see a lesbian comedian or musician.  Even better, I can sit at home at my personal computer, drink coffee or Diet Pepsi (crack a beer or mix a cocktail if I want) and read a lesbian magazine online, or chat with real live lesbians around the world.  I can do this in my underwear if I want, in my very own home.

This morning, significant other was getting ready to leave for work.  I'm sitting there having my morning caffeine, still a little bit in shock.  I mean, I had the television on last night and there was k.d. lang plugging the "Coming Out of the Closet" festival on one of the cable channels this week.  A whole week of queer movies, documentaries and special episodes.  Did I dream of this day a very long time ago ?  Can someone pinch me please and tell me it's ok to open my eyes ?  And still, the world turns.  I think I'll keep this body just a little bit longer.  Don't have to decide anything today.



Thank You by FROGGIE

Oscar Wilde said: "To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all." When I first read Thank You his statement, I was a teenager and I immediately promised myself that I would do the rare thing and live, not merely exist. Up to now I have managed to be true to my word. I do have a couple of University degrees, due mainly to the fact that I was born smart enough, and in an educated family. But I also have a couple of Ph. D.'s in life that I am very proud of. They cost me "blood toil tears and sweat" (Winston Churchill). However I would never have been able to obtain them without the help of the wonderful professors that life itself has been putting on my way since the beginning. I have been blessed enough to always meet the right people at the right time. Today I would like to thank those "right people" for teaching me so many things, even though they did not always intend to.

Thank you to my elementary school classmates, for involuntarily teaching me what would become the basis of my life. Up to that moment, being an only child, an only grand child on both sides, and even an only great grandchild, I had just been Christine, the one and lonely. Eager to meet my fellow human beings, I entered school with great expectations. But with my extreme overweight, my glasses, and my orthopedic shoes, I soon became "Fatty", "Four-eyes", and generally speaking "Get-out-of-the-Way." I started to hate discrimination. Actually, at the time I could not name it: I was only four years old and did not know so many big words. But I knew I never wanted to make anyone feel the way they were making me feel. I also turned to the friends who did not hurt me, and never would: my books. From that time onwards, my best friends would be Hugo, Zola, Hervé Bazin, Christiane Rochefort, and their likes.

Thank you to my parents for teaching me, through their constant example, the absolute relativity of human opinions and beliefs. My father was an atheist and a socialist. He came from a family of civil servants and sincerely believed all shop owners to be legal thieves. My mother was a Catholic, and a Gaullist. She came from a family of shop owners and sincerely believed civil servants were lazy people who lived off the back of the rest of society. Why they ever even considered getting married and starting a family was, and still is, beyond my understanding. But being raised between them was the most interesting and enlightening experience one could dream of. It was especially interesting during the Algerian war since our apartment had a balcony over the very boulevard all the marches and countermarches were going through. I soon learned that, just like in the Westerns I would watch on television, there were "good guys" and "bad guys" in real life too. Only my mother's "good guys" were my father's "bad guys" and vice versa. Obviously, my parents eventually got a divorce, but by that time I had already learned my lesson.

Thank you to Patricia and John G… for teaching me that learning a new foreign language was not about getting good grades, but about being able to communicate with more fellow human beings. John and Patricia were two wonderful British people with whom I used to spend most of my summer vacations in London, and who eventually became my second family. They both were journalists and very interested in national and international politics. They also used to have friends from all over the world come over for dinner. In John and Patricia's house, I discovered that the countries I had studied in my geography class really existed, that their inhabitants were human beings just like us, and that we all shared the same kinds of problems.

The first time I stayed with them, I was twelve years old and hardly knew any English. But I had the amazing bliss to hear them discuss Indian politics with our friend Sasha who later became the Indian Ambassador in London. I can still feel the stress of trying so hard to understand and remember whatever was being said. I also remember the overwhelming joy I felt that night, when I realized that the whole world was open to me, that my real homeland was the planet Earth. Of course, I eventually discovered later on that immigration bureaucracies did not share my vision of the world, but it was too late: I had already taken possession of the planet.

Thank you to Cristobal, Clarita, Rafael, Ramon, Jorge, Emilio, Fito, "El Maestro" Atahualpa Yupanqui, and so many more for sharing with me their wonderful sense of friendship and solidarity, and their vision of the world. All of them were South American folk musicians who were haunting the Latin Quarter of Paris in the early 1970's. I was eighteen years old, just back from a year in London, very lonely and very lost. Although I could not speak a word of Spanish, they received me in their micro-society, where I soon became "everybody's little sister." For months, they managed to feed me without offending my dignity, ordering food in restaurants, then asking me to please finish it so that they would not hurt the chef's feelings by leaving it on the plate. Later on, they found me a job, and a place to live; they took interests in my studies, asking me about my exams and my grades; the day I swore as a lawyer , they celebrated my success as if it had been their own, and somehow it was. In their clubs, I learned Spanish by listening to their songs, time and time again, night after night. In their discussions, I learned reality. They would spend nights at a time rebuilding the world and arguing about imperialism, colonialism, capitalism, fascism and of course, socialism, communism, trotskyism, and anarchism. Although I had known those words since high school, to me they only evoked a history or a philosophy class. During those nights I discovered that, for an important part of the population of the world, they were a daily reality.

With time I also discovered that I wanted to take a stand and I naturally chose the side of the "wretched of the earth." By that time, my beloved Argentina was hardly surviving a ferocious dictatorship, and I entered the French League for Human Rights, and started to fight, both as a lawyer and as a human rights activist, for the return of democracy.

Thank you to our wonderful Mothers and of May Square(1), and to so many anonymous compañeras and compañeros(2) for teaching me to overcome my greatest fears and showing me my own strength. When I arrived in Argentina, in 1983, the dictatorship was getting to its end. However, like any wounded beast, it still had some violent and dangerous reactions. On September 21, 1983, in Buenos Aires, I participated in the "Resistance March" organized by the Mothers de Plaza de Mayo and other Human Rights organizations. During the night, while most of the Mothers were resting and there was a just a small group of us marching, May Square got surrounded by police tanks. The fact that there was approximately one police tank for each of us could have been seen as a magnificent praise to our activism but, for some obscure reason, far from being sensitive to the compliment, I just felt terribly scared. And of course I also felt ashamed of being scared. After endless hours of discussion between the Mothers and the officers in charge, the police tanks eventually left and I started breathing again. I was obviously happy to be still alive, but mostly I was happy to discover that in spite of my fear I had not even thought of trying to escape. I understood that, as Brecht said, I had been afraid not "[so much] of death … as of an inadequate life." This was not, by far, the last time of my life I ever was scared. But it was the last time I was scared of my own fear and of my possible reactions.

These are but a few of the people who helped me forge my vision of the world and my philosophy of life. Each and every one of them has a special place in my memory, if not always in my heart. Without them I would never have been able to make it this far and I am forever thankful for all the things they taught me.

Today I am starting a new life and I hope that I will continue to meet the right people at the right moment. I am conscious that my vision of the world might change in the future as it has, in fact, changed in the past. I claim for myself, as I do for others, the right to change my mind and to make mistakes. Therefore, whatever I expressed here is not The Truth but merely my truth of today.


Footnotes: (1) ”On March 24, 1976, a military coup installed in Argentina one of the bloodiest dictatorships that the American continent has ever seen." (utexas) During the dictatorship (3/24/1976-12/10/1983) approximately 30,000 people were kidnapped by military death squads and literally disappeared. Among the disappeared were hundreds of children either kidnapped along with their parents or born in the concentration camps where their pregnant mothers had been taken.(wamani) For the past 24 years and up to now, the Madres and the Grandmothers of Plaza de Mayo (May Square), mothers and grandmothers of the disappeared, have been demanding to know the fate of their loved ones. The white scarf, displaying the name/s of their disappeared child/ren, that they wear constantly on their heads and their motto :"Verdad y Justicia' (Truth and Justice) have become globally known as symbols of human rights activism and courage. (2) compañera/o is a Spanish word that has no equivalent in English. It refers to people who share your political, social or human rights activism.

Links: Information in English about the ”disappeared”: http://www.desaparecidos.org/arg/victimas/eng.html The Wall of the ”disappeared” (Take care it takes a long time to load because of the pictures): http://www.desaparecidos.org/arg/victimas/muro2.html More information about the Grandmothers: http://www.wamani.apc.org/abuelas/ingles.html More information about the Mothers: http://www.madres.org/ingles/index.htm The "Madwomen" Memory Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo - A Case of Counter-hegemonic Communications Developed by a Unique Human Rights Group: Mothers of Disappeared People From Argentina by M. Susana Kaiser can be found at this netaddress: http://www.cwrl.utexas.edu/~monitors/1.1/kaiser/index.html


Gone So Soon by ~FPARIS

I have no-one to hold me while I cry, nor to soothe this ache that runs deep in my soul … I hurt from the bottom of my heart right to the depth of my being …

Why'd you take so long to be gone so soon?

What do I do with all the love that we made … like sugar in the rain, the sweetness dissolves with my tears …

You knew you had to leave … I believed your lines of devotion and you're gone … with little more than a good-bye, you stepped out of my life … it was not clear to me, and isn't, still

Why'd you take so long to be gone so soon?

Each day behind me appears in tomorrow … you keep from me the truth of what your life has become and your games keep our friendship from dying …

oh, how I wish I could talk to you, tell you what you are doing to me … ask you why. You say you did not want to hurt me … my thoughts ask, "Tell me what it is you had in mind?"

Why'd you take so long to be gone so soon …

©2000 ~FParis

We Danced by ~FPARIS

I never have enjoyed a dance the way I did with you; and though the music ended, I just knew we were not through.

I may have heard a different song than what was really playing … but then again, I know there were a few things you weren't saying.

You danced away from me as unexpected music started … I'm sorry if I made you feel you left me broken hearted.

I thought I would be able to just watch you waltz away … I wish I had been able to bow-out in such a way.

It seemed to be the saddest song I've heard in many years … so I can blame the music for the cause of all those tears.

I want you knowing I'm so very sorry for the scene … disgracefully departing from the dance floor of my dreams.

I can only hope that you will hear our song again, and take into consideration what we had back when.

I realize perspective, and we cannot bridge the miles, but please remember you are half the reason this heart smiles.

©2000 ~FParis



Thoughts Written Down by CONNIE

When we touch... I travel to another space...

When we kiss... My mind soars in flight ... When we snuggle... I am content... And when we make love... We leave this universe...

A place uniquely ours... Soft and Gentle... It's so sweet... so good... with you... Such closeness... Such intense emotions... Such perfect intimacy... Such fullness...

Overwhelming.... no words...

We kiss, we touch, we explore... we laugh... The love fills us up... and envelops us...

I never thought anyone could make my dreams come true...

and you know what?

No one ever will...

But,

We are so much better than dreams could ever be...

I love your lips... your hands... that incredible smile... your amazing body... your heart...

Those sweet eyes reflecting your beautiful soul...

connie..... Tue, 16 Jun 1998



Untitled by CONNIE

You've become the sunshine You've become the moonshine You've become the arms I wish to hold me tight

The lips to kiss and say hello and goodnight You've become the eyes I wish to look into You've become the hand I love to hold You've become so much to me, I do not ever want to live without

I don't want to live a life of regret for not saying how I feel or showing you who I am and if for what ever reason this may bother you...

I am sorry. I'm only trying to show you that I'm happy........ and by feeling this way......

My mask is off and my spirit is dancing

before you,

because of you,

because of me

because of us

and wanting always to be with you.

connie....






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