Are Attacks on Our Allies Attacks on Us?

When allies are defamed, why should we care? What’s the first question that pops up in the ensuing conversation? Is she/he gay? Now mind you we’re talking about a conversation taking place between two (or more) LGBTQ persons. So we don’t want to be labeled, profiled, judged, etc….but what do we gravitate to? You guessed it.

How many of us realize that we could not have advanced as far as we have come since Stonewall without the love and support of straight friends, family and associates? Our Allies. How many of us can relate from a very personal place what it means to be unfairly judged, have blatant lies tossed at us; to be defamed to our family, friends, associates, and the public at large? Well, the good news – if you can call it that – is that it’s not just happening to LGBTQ folk these days. The bad news is that it’s still happening at all.

One case in point is that of Parisha Taylor. I have worked with this woman for almost 25 years. I know of NO ONE more inclusive, more of a friend and ally to the LGBTQ community. She has been hounded by a yellow journalist creep, Michael Sangiacomo, and the Cleveland Plain Dealer, for over 20 years now. Why? Because she dared to expose their connection to a man who misappropriated funds and goods that were supposed to be donated to an Indian reservation in the southwest. Things were fairly friendly between Parisha and the boy barracuda Sangiacomo up to that point, but after that little departure in ethics, things started to tank.

Over the last twenty years Sangiacomo has periodically harassed Parisha, and the humanitarian organization which she founded and later turned over to the capable leadership of associates.

Grandmother Parisha’s Native heritage, which has been verified, was attacked by Sangiacomo and his rag, with the help of some local AIM boys who jumped on the bandwagon, probably to take focus away from the fact that they were selling CDIB (Certificate of Degree of Indian or Alaska Native Blood) Cards for $150 to whoever wanted them, doing drugs and engaging in other criminal activities.

Now Sangiacomo and his yellow press rag are at it again 20 years later. Why? Because Parisha has become active in Kingman AZ helping to create job fairs and assist out-of-work people to get on their feet and offer the city of Kingman encouragement in economic growth. Wow – that’s sinister, Mike! WTF????

As LGBTQ people we have had lifetimes of being harassed by cretins like Sangiacomo, who has on numerous occasions been exposed for writing “interviews” containing “quotes” from individuals he NEVER SPOKE WITH. They prey on whomever they can to get a sensational story – doesn’t matter if they have to make up the details because all the lawyers will tell you it’s next to impossible to prosecute a libel suit, and it’s next to impossible to get a retraction. So the press gets a free ride at the expense of whomever….Is that what freedom of the press is supposed to be about?

I’m speaking up as a woman who has been out as a lesbian for over 40 years. I believe that we owe support to those who have supported us. We’re all in this together – and when one of us is attacked, it affects the whole.

This is a 20-year old smear campaign that reporter Michael Sangiacomo has carried out despite evidence that all he has “reported” were lies and rumors from uninformed sources. His UNSUBSTANTIATED accusations, blatant lies and attacks are made against people I consider my extended family, people I have been affiliated with for over 25 years in a non-profit humanitarian organization that has always been dedicated to helping people empower themselves through continuing education, personal and professional development and spiritual growth.

Parisha Taylor’s accomplishments speak for themselves. She has dedicated her life to assisting others –as individuals, communities, nations and globally. Mike Sangiancomo is a scumbag who has advanced the practice of yellow journalism into the 21st century where it doesn’t belong. I am encouraging my LGBTQ family to write to the Cleveland Plain Dealer and let them know that wantonly destroying peoples’ lives is not acceptable. This is a call to action. This is an ally who has been there for us. Time to reciprocate. - Msqueer

Follow these links:

Parisha's website

Parisha's Circle Blog

Parisha Taylor Fan Club on Facebook

©2010 MsQueer.com. Republished by Permission. All rights reserved.

please vote for this article at Stumble, Digg, Furl, Del.icio.us, and Facebook. Thanks!

Stumble It!

Earth Changes 2012 Update

Grandmother Parisha will be on conference call this evening at 9 pm EST to discuss recent developments regarding the earth changes prophesied for this time with particular attention to 2012.

Listen in at

646-519-5860, pin no. 2930

Please mute your phone once you are "in" out of courtesy for all the participants.

More information:

www.parishaonline.com

©2009 Deborah Adler. All rights reserved

Help MsQueer.com Keep on Keeping On...

Okay, stuff happens. I am looking for some assistance in locating the donation of a laptop to keep http://www.msqueer.com/ (located at http://msqueer.wordpress.com/) current and active.



If you would like to help MsQueer.com become the top quality LGBTQ News and Views Blog that it was envisioned to be from its inception, you can help through financial assistance or the donation of a laptop.



I accept secured payments through PayPal. Please Button on sidebar.



[PLEASE NOTE: I am NOT a non-profit,
nor is http://www.msqueer.com/ a profit-making blog.
It was birthed as a service to LGBTQ persons and allies.
In order ofr it to be able to be a free service, it needs help.
If you can offer that, or a proposal for creating revenue -
besides Adwords, please - that will be most welcome also.]
Much appreciation. -MsQueer

email: msqueer@gmail.com

Student Voice of Mental Health Award

Recently, in response to one of my posts at www.msqueer.com about teen suicide and lgbtq teen suicides in this country and resources to help, I received a comment from someone who asked me to publicize a video competition that is coming to a conclusion soon, as well as the organization sponsoring it, The Jed Foundation.

Here are excerpts from the poster's comments: "I’m writing from The Jed Foundation....We are presenting The Jerry Greenspan Student Voice of Mental Health Award for college students who have had mental health issues like the one’s you write about on your site and wanted for you to help spread the word.

"The award is for a video on their experiences with mental health issues and how they are working to raise awareness and encourage their peers on the issue. The award includes a $2,000 scholarship, a trip to NYC to our annual gala in June 2009, recognition through our site and events and possibly appearing on MTVU. The info is on our site (link below).

We are interested... in having folks write about the importance of doing work like this and show casing, if you will, this award we are presenting.

More information at http://jedfoundation.org/programs/student-voice-of-mental-health-award
NOTE: The Deadline for submitting a video to this project is FEBRUARY 13th! You can download an application from their site address shown here. Questions can be directed to studentaward@jedfoundation.org.

From their website, I share with you their Mission, as it appears on their About Us page:

Mission
The Jed Foundation works nationally to reduce the rate of suicide and the prevalence of emotional distress among college and university students. To achieve this end, the organization collaborates with the public and leaders in higher education, mental health, and research to produce and advance initiatives that:

• Decrease the stigma surrounding emotional disorders and increase help-seeking in the college student population
• Increase understanding of the warning signs of suicide and the symptoms of emotional disorders among college students
• Build awareness of the prevalence of suicide and emotional disorders among college students
• Strengthen campus mental health services, policies, and programs

You can also find the Jed Foundation, among other places on the net at http://www.youtube.com/thejedfoundation

There, you will find a number of videos on "You Are Not Alone - Fight the Stigma" which feature student sharings as well as educational information from professionals dealing with the issues of student mental health.

I have contacted the Jed Foundation and suggested they network with The Trevor Project, since I did not see any specific references to the LGBTQ population. I hope they follow suit. (UPDATE: I received an email back from the program coordinator that they were indeed interested in working with the Trevor Foundation and would be adding them as a resource link.)

Here's one of their videos:

[NOTE: ALL RIGHTS TO THIS VIDEO BELONG TO THE JED FOUNDATION.]

The Jed Foundation also has a "Half Of Us" Campaign underway that asks students, "How Are You A Friend?" More information about this can be found at http://jedfoundation.org/about/jed-news/how-are-you-a-friend. -MsQueer :)

©2009 MsQueer.com. All rights reserved. [NOTE: All language from the Jed Foundation website is the property of The Jed Foundation. No copyright infringement intended.]

Stumble It!

URGENT CALL TO ACTION

Please go to http://debadler.wordpress.com/2008/12/24/urgent-call-to-action-to-stop-vilsack-appointment/ to find out how you can help to stop the appointment of pro-Monsanto, biotech genetic engineering and cloning of animals Tom Vilsack to the post of Secretary of Agriculture.

TAKE ACTION TO PREVENT A TRAGIC BETRAYAL OF OBAMA'S AGENDA TO MOVE THIS COUNTRY FORWARD FOR HUMANITY!

-MsQueer

©2008 Deborah Adler. All rights reserved.

please vote for this article at Stumble, Digg, Furl, Del.icio.us, and Facebook. Thanks!

Follow the Flurry of Posts....

For my more active "MsQueer" blog, go to http://www.msqueer.com/. Thanks!

please vote for this article at Stumble, Digg, Furl, Del.icio.us, and Facebook. Thanks!

MARCHING IN THE COLUMBUS OHIO 2008 GAY PRIDE PARADE WITH METHODISTS I’VE NEVER MET BEFORE

Because of schedule conflicts that could not be re-arranged, it has been such a rare occasion that I was able to get away, to participate in the Gay Pride Parades in Columbus, Ohio, a mere 2-hour drive from where I reside in the southeastern part of the state.

Of course, I’ve been making that drive 5- to 6- days a week with friends for about 12 years now, so it isn’t about the “distance” – at least not in the sense of miles. Sometimes the “distance” we have to go to get to an event or goal is whatever particular obstacle we have to overcome in order to get to the end point.

The goal for me this year was to march in the parade. As it got closer to the actual date of the event, it became clear that I would actually have that day cleared. Suddenly I found my excitement mounting. I announced my plans to my extended family that shares the resident staff duties of the retreat and training center where I live. I bought rainbow cloth and fashioned a hand-sewn shirt to wear. I kept checking with the person I was going to drive in with to make sure that for some reason at the last minute she didn’t decide not to go. (I had contingency plans to stay in town the night before if need be.)

I called friends that I knew who would likely be going to the Parade to ask if they would be marching. With each one I talked to who said they would be there, but watching from the sidelines, I felt my excitement take a definite dive. Sidelines? Watching?

I really wanted to march with somebody. I took a vacation by myself in 1980 – to my beloved Mackinac Island in my birth state of Michigan – and found that I really had to work to keep myself on my itinerary. I biked around the island, talking to the birds, the squirrels, greeting the other bikers who passed me from the opposite direction. I had to overcome my fears of staying alone in a hotel room that had no phone. And I almost left early, abandoning my dream of this ideal vacation I had concocted, because I found myself a tad on the lonely side. I stayed. And I did love being there. But it taught me that vacations are more enjoyable when shared.

As those memories came flooding back to me in the midst of my search for marching buddies, I also felt a bit of a rage emerging.

“Staying on the sidelines? I don’t want to be on the sidelines.”

I could almost sense a desperation coming from – where? I seemed to be looking into my life, like a mirror. Having lived 58 extremely active years, something was crying out from a very real and deep place within me.

So I bolstered myself up with the assurance that I would run into somebody I knew, determined that I would march and have a great time of it.

I started out Saturday morning with two friends who were headed into town to take care of some business. The car was having problems. Actually, the front end was shaking so bad and making a noise that sounded like the tire belts were going to rip open any minute. The driver said we would need to stop in Cambridge – about 30 minutes away – to get the tires checked. I silently prayed to myself that we could make it that far without breaking down! (In the meantime, I was also chastising myself for not choosing to go with another friend I usually rode with that I knew was also heading in that morning.)

We got to the tire shop and after a slight wait, the prognosis came back. It wasn’t good news. It was a lot more serious than just bad tires. The car was getting ready to throw tie rods and some other problems that they couldn’t handle at that shop.

“So,” I thought to myself. “You could have gone in with (my other friend) but you chose this car. Is this how you sabotage yourself from getting to march?”

Fortunately the car’s owner had a cell phone and she offered to call my other friend to see if I could get a ride into Columbus with her. It just so happened that she was just passing the Cambridge exit near us because she had to drop off someone else at the library. Otherwise, she would have been too far past us to turn back. We connected at a nearby gas station, me going on to Columbus, and my friend with the ailing car heading off to a car lot near home to see about getting another car.

I was dropped off at Goodale Park in Columbus’ famous Victorian Village district (Gay Haven) in plenty of time to see the float preparations and organization and catch some of the entertainment and speakers that were part of the pre-parade festivities.

I donned my home-made rainbow shirt, feeling rather pleased with myself, and then went searching for a vendor with rainbow flags. I found a guy selling rainbow boas with gold tinsel and decided to buy one.

“It’s not a flag,’ I thought, as I paid slightly more than I had planned to spend, “but it is festive – and I can wave it at people!”

Naturally, after that I saw the flag vendors, but I refrained. And I got some very nice compliments from the gay boys who passed by!

I walked up and down the length of the street where people were gathering,preparing and decorating several times, carefully analyzing each group by float, banners and costumed participants to figure out if I wanted to walk up and ask if I could join them for the march.

Finally, close to line-up time, I heard someone yelling my name. I turned to see who it was and saw a familiar face (whose name, of course, I couldn’t remember right away) from my recovery meetings. We greeted each other and hugged. She asked me if I was marching and I said yes. Then she asked if I was with a particular group and I told her no, so she asked me if I wanted to march with her group.

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED. I had found someone to march with.

My friend introduced me to her friends – from her Methodist Church. There were gays, lesbians and supportive straight folks in the group. They had a large banner. Right behind them was a Methodist Seminary with its own banner and same diverse group of marchers. We were a small band, but everyone was very nice and happy to meet me - and happy for another marching body.

The “Step-off” announcement came over the loud speaker and the carefully orchestrated 3 lines wove together to become one long line heading out to High Street and the final destination along the riverfront, Bicentennial Park. While still on the side street, another friend saw me and called out my name. She also knew my friend, so she and her partner joined us as well.

At one point there was a man in his late 40’or early 50’s, who walked as though he had cerebral palsy, who joined the group to march. He was a member of their church and he had a baby in a stroller that he pushed all the way to the end of the parade route with us. He wanted to march with us. He was an inspiration.

Although I went through school with considerable contempt for the girly-girl cheerleaders, I have experienced points in my life when I have been quite the “rabble-rouser” in a crowd. I did at least warn my new-found friends that I have a good set of lungs and vocal chords as a singer, and that I tend to get rather loud at events like this.

All along the way, I looked at the people lining the streets along the parade route and smiled and yelled “Happy Pride Day” and then whooped and hollered and got them to do the same. It was cool.

When we got to the 4 or 5 points along North High where some protesters had planted themselves, you could see the impact of their slurs and insults on those around them – especially on some of the young people, it seemed. I refused to hear them. I just flashed the protesters a peace sign, looked to the opposite side of the street and started whooping it up. “Happy Pride,” I yelled, smiling at the many faces as we continued on, and they joined in clapping and hollering back with similar cheers and greetings.

At one point there was a religious group that had some very pointed things to say about a church marching in Gay Pride. One of the men in the group, a minister, yelled something back at them and then tried to get the group to sing “Yes, Jesus Loves Me.” I knew the point he was trying to make, but it still felt a little weird. It was a valiant but short-lived effort, and I just kept yelling “Happy Pride” and clapping to get the people around us to do the same.

We turned the corner to get to Bicentennial Park all too soon it seemed. Although there was a full day of entertainment and festivities planned, I had to head back uptown by bus to make sure that I could connect with my ride going home. My friend and fellow marchers and I hugged and expressed our appreciation of one another and then parted company.

I headed back up North High Street, able to see the rest of the floats and paraders who had been behind us. Somebody complemented my outfit as I walked by. As I passed one of the many Columbus City Police who had lined the parade route and placed an effective wall of protection between us and anybody who tried to get out into the street at us, I looked at him and thanked him for his help today. He looked at me kind of funny at first, but then he got it, and smiled and nodded an acknowledgement in return.

As I turned up from High Street along Broad (at the Ohio State Capitol Building), I saw a mass of people marching behind the floats. It was then that I realized that that was where people usually “fell in” to march with the parade. I just laughed. They numbered in the hundreds I’m sure, filling the street from one side to the other. It was inspiring to see them.

But I felt a special satisfaction at that moment. Not only had I not stayed on the side-lines, I found a way to actively motivate others to recognize their “Pride.” I emailed a friend later and told her that I must have looked pretty outrageous – a nearly 58 year old salt-and-pepper haired woman in a handmade rainbow shirt and lavish boa. But I had fun, and I helped others have fun while making a declaration of dignity.

In 1983 I marched and was a featured performer in Hartford, Connecticut’s very first Lesbian-Gay Pride Day Celebration. We were few in numbers, but our message was no less profound to the public. To march is to stand up and speak out. It is to “demonstrate” our convictions. It is to give reassurance, hope and courage to those who feel they can’t yet be “visible.”

This year I chose to not stay on the sidelines, but to be an active participant in the second largest Gay Pride Parade in the Midwest (Only Chicago’s is bigger). As I walked away from the parade route, heading toward the bus stop a few blocks up, I felt myself leaving the “safety in numbers” comfort zone I had been basking in thus far. As I saw others looking at me -some kindly, some not - I smiled back and waited for the bus with my rainbow boa flowing. When I got off at my final destination, there were two women waiting to board, one of whom really admired my boa and wondered where I had gotten it. I found myself hesitating – even though I was pretty sure they were together.

“I got it for the Pride Parade downtown.”

I don’t know if they caught the reference, but they smiled and said they were heading downtown for Comfest (another huge festival that runs concurrent with Pride), and wished me a good day, as I did them.

I continued on foot to the office where I would be meeting my friend, stopping in the Speedway gas station to get something to drink because I was extremely parched. My rainbow boa won glances and compliments from people who had no clue. I just smiled.

When the cashier asked me about it, I told her I had gotten it for the Gay Pride March downtown. She smiled blankly while a few customers behind me looked up. Nothing else was said.

I continued on to my friend’s office building with my rainbow boa streaming in the wind. I was walking on air. Still high from the parade, my step had a definite “spring” to it. My goal had been accomplished. The exhilaration from that alone carried me through the rest of the day.

MsQueer

please vote for this article at Stumble, Digg, Furl, Del.icio.us, and Facebook. Thanks!