Monthly Archives: July 2020

Good trouble = voting

by in Activism, Current events, Human Rights, In memoriam, Inspiration, Justice, Policy, Poverty, Racism, Random musings, social justice, US Politics and tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment
07/30 Mike Luckovich: John’s bridge, Atlanta Journal Constitution

John Lewis, who literally fought like hell to ensure black Americans (and all Americans) could secure the same rights, not least the right to vote, that you and I have, will be laid to rest today in Atlanta. He fought his entire life for justice and to ensure that those who had no voice were not forgotten and would be heard. And, his work and legacy are far from complete.

I have a confession.

I took voting for granted for a long while. I voted regularly and researched the candidates I’d be voting for to ensure they reflected my own vision for my community. But, I also occasionally missed a local election or voted straight ticket out of laziness or simple complacency. I voted, but… I could have done better.

It wasn’t until I watched my husband—Cuban by birth and to the core, and an exile from his own country because he dared think outside the state-sanctioned box—vote the first time we were eligible to vote in Finland, our home by default. He was in his 50s at that time, as we left our neighbourhood polling station. He looked at me, and told me it was the first time in his life that he knew definitively that his vote mattered and would be counted. And, that he felt heard and seen.

I no longer to take voting for granted. I think of my husband’s words each time I sort through the details of ensuring I can vote overseas now. It matters. And, not everyone enjoys the same rights that we do to exercise our voices freely.

Please, check your voter registration details (and register if you haven’t) to make sure everything from the spelling of your name to your address is correct and up-to-date. If you plan to vote by absentee ballot, request your ballot now and know what you need to research and how you’ll vote (scroll down to ‘Know Your State’) before your ballot arrives. And, given Covid and issues with United States and other Postal Services, make sure you send your ballot with sufficient time to ensure it arrives in time to be counted.

If you have done as much of the above as you can, pour yourself your favourite beverage and spread the word to your friends and family. (Hell, you can just share this post, if you want, although, just sharing the link vote.org is fine, too.)

If you are healthy and feel confident enough to volunteer as a poll worker in your community, do so. So many poll workers are retired and they are at an increased risk for Covid. Do a quick Google search to see what the rules are in your state / community. And, if you have teenage kids and want them to understand the importance of civic duty, even if they cannot vote, they may be able to work the polls.

There are so many ways you can help make this specific election matter. But, it requires doing something. So, let’s do some good and do something.

John Lewis fought for all of us and shed his own blood on that bridge in Selma so that we and others wouldn’t need to. He got into good, necessary trouble his entire life so that our voices would be heard and counted. Now, it’s up to us. The best simplest sort of good, necessary trouble we can get into and perhaps the most patriotic act is the simple act of voting.

One step at a time, part II

by in Attitude, Everyday Life, family, Finland, Gratitude, Helsinki, Inspiration, Random musings, Running and tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

I did a thing, y’all.

The Cuban and I have diligently stuck to our evening strolls for several years now, our moment each day when we step away from gadgets and the rest of the world and meander around our hood and bond, chatting about whatever tickles our fancies on that particular day. Since June and the last of my lectures from the 2019-2020 Covid-thwarted academic year, I’ve been rather committed to walking and/or running in the morning and in the evening.

In an attempt to manage my own stress and find my long-absent running mojo, I began taking walks or running in the morning as well.
It’s been awesome, and helpful, and definitely helped me learn to love running once again. (Mind, I still hate running when I’m doing i; but I LOVE it immediately upon completion, and look forward to lacing up and heading out for my ritual of cursing running so that I can declare my love and devotion to it immediately afterwards all over again. Yes, it is a thoroughly dysfunctional relationship.)

Given this commitment, however, in June, despite missing several days of walking and/or running, I still managed to log just over 200 km, one of my best months ever since I began keeping stats.

Yesterday, I topped 300 km for July. And, with a few days left in this month still to run and walk, and with at least two more runs planned, plus our daily evening strolls, I may yet reach 350 if I get out there as much as I have been. [Insert joke about Sod’s Law and/or best intentions. Go on.]

I suspect once my teaching obligations at the university resume next month, I won’t have nearly enough time to continue this little experiment. But, I’m well-chuffed at the moment. To have been afforded the luxury of time (and no injuries other than a few blisters yet, touch wood) and decent weather to embark upon, this peripatetic experiment has been a gift. Instead of the hour I’ve set aside each morning, maybe I’ll cut the time down to half an hour. We shall see. For now, I’ll enjoy the time I have.

As much as I love our evening strolls, my morning meanderings have also offered me a chance to step away from the screen and consider and process so many things on my own. And, that’s allowed me to be a bit more present with The Cuban when we are out and about. And, allowed us the opportunity to explore our surroundings a bit more together.

My next goal is within reach, although I have no definitive timeline for its completion. But, I’ll get there.

One step at a time.

A scene from favourite evening stroll and walk from July.
  • My stats from June 2020.
  • My stats from July 2020, thus far.

I am not your enemy

by in Attitude, Justice, Policy, Racism, Random musings, social justice, US Politics and tagged , , , | 1 Comment

Several weeks ago, a friend / colleague reminded me of a band I’d not listened to in ages, a band which several decades ago was often in my daily musical rotation.

It amazes me how relevant they still are today.

Rage Against the Machine, ‘Know Your Enemy’, 24 July 1999, Live @ Woodstock ’99

I spent the rest of that day revisiting that mighty, fat sound of revolution and sense of empowerment against the system that is Rage Against the Machine and marvelling at just how much things are the same, and yet not at all.

In the mid- to late 1990s as RATM emerged and as I was awakening to the power of my own voice and exercising it in elections and through protest and civil disobedience on occasion, it was still possible to have conversations with those who represented the polar opposite of my own views. Some of the conversations I’ve had, at least virtually, recently have scarcely resembled those previous debates, either in content or tone. Yet, echoes of the past, particularly on issues of racial injustice and unfair policing a la the clip above, have become even more relevant and more polarised it seems.

I find myself increasing thinking ‘I am not your enemy’ to strangers and those within my own social network, particularly to those with whom I share very little in terms of ideological leanings. Yes, some conversations have been productive and continue (even if I am woefully behind in my own correspondence). And, labels such as socialist and Marxist, don’t really bother me, just as liberal, progressive or left-winger seem rather silly even if lobbed in a way that suggests denigration or condemnation. But, the increasing frequency with which I see, read and hear individuals suggesting that anyone who seeks criminal justice reform, restraint in the face of ongoing BLM protests or is in any way critical of the current occupant of the White House as American-hating or intent on destroying the US leave me bereft and rather heartbroken.

I may not support the current administration and certainly lob my own harsh criticisms at him and many a Republican. But, it isn’t from any hatred or malice for my country.

I am proud to be from the United States, although admittedly perhaps less so at this particular moment given our current alienation from allies and how much we appear to be failing our own nation. As a living document and despite its inherent flaws, the US Constitution offers much to be proud of, as does the Declaration of Independence, two documents I revisit in my own act of patriotism each 4th of July. More than anything, I’d like to see the promises of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness equitably and equally available to every man, woman and child in my own country, a simple reality we have yet to achieve except largely for those born white, rich or male. I want to a better life for all in the US (and elsewhere), and I’d like to create a just space for all, without fear of financial ruin if one becomes ill or infirm or without fear of prosecution or persecution simply because of one’s outward appearance or being born into a particular position and station.

We have work to do, y’all. And that won’t be possible if you view me as your enemy simply because I am a progressive, liberal, far-left-leaning woman who thinks black lives matter and that wearing a mask or vaccines are sound public health policies. I can simultaneously love my country whilst also wanting to improve it. I can advocate for a Green New Deal and climate action, as well as Medicare for All / universal health care whilst simultaneously liking to shop (you have seen my Marimekko obsession, right?) and travel. I can be your ally whilst not agreeing with you on every single issue. I can be a decent human being whilst not believing in your god. I can be a crazy cat lady and still love dogs and playing with puppies.

But, I am not your enemy. And, don’t let the powers that be make me out to be. I’m fairly certain, that there is more that unite us than that which we allow to currently and persistently divide us.

Love the one you’re with

by in Random musings and tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment
Near Seurasaari, Helsinki, Finland. 24 July 2020

The Cuban and I took a long walk around Helsinki this evening on our stroll, and found a new-to-us route. It was stunning and we plan to return with proper cameras tomorrow (weather permitting). There was something about this walk, though, that we just joked and laughed and enjoyed ourselves the more we walked, to the point that my cheeks actually hurt a wee bit as I’m typing this. I’m not sure either of us had just let loose that much in far too long.

This year sucks, y’all. And we’ve all already experienced more heartache than we need for a single year, perhaps even a lifetime. But, you know, today wasn’t all bad, and I think that’s largely because I got to spend it and a few uninterrupted hours with my favourite human, without worrying too much about everything else going on. Yes, we talked about our worries. But, we also felt free to marvel at the good around us. And likely scared the shit out of some poor woman we said ‘hello’ to unprompted. We are still in Finland, remember?

So, despite the shit and chaos that currently surrounds us all, try to take a few moments out to enjoy those in your lives and those you love. Life is entirely too fleeting to not stop and photobomb at least one panoramic photo every once in a while. And look at how long your torso can become!

#lovetheoneyourewith #loveistheanswer

On ‘The Uncounted’ by Sara ‘Meg’ Davis

by in Action, books, Communicating science, Current events, Drugs Policy, Good reads & books, Health, Healthcare, HIV, Human Rights, Justice, Policy, Poverty, Random musings, reading, Science, Sexual & Reproductive Health & Rights (SRHR), social justice, War on Drugs, Writing and tagged , , , | Leave a comment

The Uncounted by Sara L.M. Davis

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


In today’s world in particular, there are days when it seems as though we are drowning in information. Too much data. Too much ‘stuff’ to process and make sense of. That feeling is only partially true, however. Across various areas and arenas, we know far too little, particularly when we focus on issues surrounding health and human rights. All too often we take the absence of information or data or evidence as a sign that we may relax a bit.

We desperately need to shift that thinking. The Uncounted, by Sara ‘Meg’ Davis provides a road map for how we may begin to shift our thinking and perspectives in order to adjust how, amongst whom and what we collect data in a relatively simple way, and in a way which may pay huge dividends, particularly amongst those most in need and previously most neglected in policy planning and financing.

‘The Uncounted’ is a fantastic read, one which profoundly challenges the notion that in the absence of information or evidence we don’t need to worry about issue X. That is, if we carefully examine those variables for which we have no data or evidence, perhaps upon digging deeper and enlisting assistance from those more acutely and intimately aware than we are, we will find previously hidden information and data. And, that data and information are likely to radically shift how we design programmes or policies on various issues. We will no longer be able to simply dismiss an issue as unproblematic. Quite simply, ‘The Uncounted’ provides a profound argument for carefully considering how we examine and apply the absence of evidence as an indicator.

‘The Uncounted’ is rich in ethnographic descriptions, documenting the various assumptions made by multilateral agencies charged with dispersing funding to and establishing guidelines for countries in how they respond to HIV, tuberculosis and malaria (e.g., The Global Fund to Fight AIDS, TB and Malaria, UNAIDS, WHO, PEPFAR, etc) and local-level agencies and individuals best situated to argue for expanding programmes and funding schemes within communities. For those unfamiliar with such agencies, Dr Davis disentangles these various personalities and agencies rather neatly, making it clear who does what and whose voice is perhaps most necessary in deciding upon programmes and policies to address HIV in particular. Following the progress and steps necessary to count the uncounted within the Caribbean region provides evidence for how we can begin to shift our thinking and truly ensure full inclusion of all individuals affected by HIV and specifically those least likely to date to receive crucial services and support.

Reading ‘The Uncounted’ during a global pandemic proved rather surreal,not simply because some of its key characters are also playing a crucial role in current events vis-a-vis Covid-19. As our global health-related realities have been thrown into chaos this year with the emergence of Covid-19, I’m curious to see how various elements of Dr Davis’ careful and thorough work play out. Whilst focused primarily on HIV, and the very real oversights in counting typically hidden populations such as men who have sex with men, transgender people, sex workers and people who use drugs, certainly many individuals, and perhaps the most vulnerable, will go uncounted in the wake of Covid-19. Will health, social, and economic policy makers and planners at local, national, and international levels solicit the perspectives from those at the community levels most intimately associated with the epidemics and acutely aware of problems in providing treatment, care and support to those affected in order to understand who, what, why and where? Or will they rely on the absence of evidence as evidence of absence simply because individuals are not counted by the powers that be? How will key populations be accounted for? Will they?

My hope is that the powers that be across power structures would heed the advice and road maps provided by Dr Davis. The reality is that in some places, that advice and those road maps are not being considered. And, in those places it seems as those Covid-19 is raging unchallenged. [Insert heavy sigh here.]

‘The Uncounted’ provides this cynic with a bit of hope, however, particularly with regards to HIV. Hope that we expand our perspective ever so slightly, yet in a way which we can make a huge difference to communities and key populations who may have previously faced stigma, discrimination and institutional neglect, and who may finally receive the crucial support to transform structures that place them at the response to HIV. It won’t be easy, but it is necessary. And, to my mind, long overdue.

Clearly, we can no longer that that ‘absence of evidence as evidence of absence’.



View all my reviews