Points of Reference

This year's topic for Blog Action Day? Poverty.

Some people approach defining poverty within the context of material goods. Do you have enough to eat, drink, and a roof over your head? Yes? Then, you, according to some Americans, are not impoverished.

In an attempt to understand "American Poverty," I did what any Internets junkie would do, I googled the phrase "american poverty." This took me to a site called The Heritage Foundation, a self described think-tank, whose mission is to

formulate and promote conservative public policies based on the principles of free enterprise, limited government, individual freedom, traditional American values, and a strong national defense.

This foundation takes issue with recent statistics from the Census Bureau which suggest that 14% of Americans live at or below the poverty line. "Poverty," writes an author on the site, "means destitution...[lack of] nutritious food, adequate clothing, and reasonable shelter."

Based on this definition of poverty, only about 2% of this nation's population are actually impoverished. There's more in this article suggesting that the poorest people in our nation live much better than the majority of the world's middle class.

So, this is our new paradigm? Am I to understand that this position suggests that as long as the bottom 14% of this nation lives better than the middle class in, say, Sierra Leone that poverty is just not an issue in our nation?

Personally, I believe that American's should examine poverty as a function of disparity and access rather than material goods.

What do you think? Do you think American poverty should be defined relative to the rest of the world? Or do you think that it should be evaluated within the context of America itself?

***BTW, I'm doing a guest post at Avitable's blog on Thursday, October 16. If you're interested in reading a "NSGA (not suitable for general audiences) Faiqa", check it out!

For the Love of All Things Holy, Are You Serious?!

To Anyone Who Has Ever Accused Me of Being Subjective in My Opinions,

I want you to read about PETA's new suggestions regarding cow's milk with respect to Ben and Jerry's ice cream.

Now, close your eyes and thank God that you only have to contend with me and not these people.

All the Best,

Faiqa

Firestarter

UPDATE: This post was written about 12 hours before the breaking news United States Armed Forces have crossed Pakistani borders, without the permission of the Pakistani government, in pursuit of suspected terrorists.  I was asked by my cousin in Pakistan this morning, "Don't people in America care about what's happening?"  Of course we do.  We do, right?

You can read more about it in this article from the Washington Post. 

Yesterday was September 11th.  

Two of the most prolific bloggers in my Google reader, Avitable and Miss Britt, who I've adopted as my blogging mama and papa without their express permission, wrote wonderful posts on the topic. (BTW, making Avitable one's blog papa could be considered extremely creepy).  

I commented profusely on Avitable's blog and stirred up a bit of firestorm which is totally uncharacteristic of me, ha ha.  Go check it out by clicking on his name up there, but if you're at work, be advised that the comments are profanity laden.

Of course, the one person I challenged had to be a United States Marine.  Obviously, I didn't know that at the time.

And, of course, he was very upset about my use of the words "taking action" with regards to the protection of this nation's freedom.  Because he's been all over the world taking action and I've been sitting here in the AC of my suburban home.  I came off as sarcastic, which again is very uncharacteristic of me, so I suppose that fueled his contempt for my comments.  

Truth be told, I understood his point of view, and I offered a reasonable apology.   In the end, I think peace was established through some discreet intervention on the part of Avitable.  

What many people may not know is that when Mrs. Faiqa was once Miss Faiqa, she walked into the United States Marine Corps Recruiting Office in Daytona Beach, Florida at the age of eighteen and signed a recruitment form.  

Yes, I actually signed up to join the United States Marine Corps.  

I took the oath, they didn't ask and I didn't tell (nothing to tell), I did the push ups, I ran the miles, and I took the joke of  a literacy test that all enlistees must take.  

On the day that I went to Jacksonville for my physical, in the multitudes of young people there, I was the only woman, the only Muslim and the only full blooded person of Asian descent present for enlistment in the Marine Corps.    

At the end of the day, I was informed that I had been disqualified during the physical examination because I have an elongated retina which made me susceptible to retinal detachment should I experience any severe trauma to the head.  Apparently, Marines get hit in the head, a lot. 

When I was eighteen, I thought the best way to serve my country was to become one of the warriors that protected it.  My parents, my teachers, my family and my friends thought I was an idiot for "throwing my life away," but I didn't care.  At that time in my life, I believed that military service would be the best expression of my dedication to the service of this nation.

My disqualification, though, afforded me the opportunity to realize that everyone is meant to serve their cause in a different way.  

I serve my country by being informed.  

I serve my country by educating myself regarding the freedoms that have been bestowed upon me by the Constitution of the United States.  

 

I serve my country by yelling, stomping my feet in my living room (or the living rooms of other people) and blogging on the Internet when I see those freedoms being transgressed or upheld.

  

I serve my country by showing the world that I am unafraid of identifying myself as a Muslim, despite repeated implications from many of my compatriots and elected politicians that this nation is at war not only with Iraq and Afghanistan, but with Islam itself.

I serve my country whenever I intentionally answer "American," no hyphen, to the questions aimed at determining my ethnic origins.  

Make no mistake, I am not equating my level of service with people who are getting shot at on the other side of the world.  

I'm just saying that we all serve within the parameters of our capabilities, and many of us act with the noblest of intentions.  These services and actions are not any less of a contribution to the greatness of our nation.

Whenever I see a banner that reads, "Support Our Troops," I feel a strange twinge in my heart. I have always supported our troops, well before 9/11, well before it was deemed fashionable by the media and political pundits.  

I'm offended by the conflation of the support of our troops with our current conflict.  After all, I should be able to voice my opposition to foreign policy without having my support of our military even coming up for discussion.    

I fight for this country every day with my words.  And while I am not as prolific as many others, there are people who give my words some consideration.  

I have been to various continents and bravely faced up to the criticisms that others have for this country, and I have defended what was right, just and good about us.  

I do not impose, I do not require agreement, but I will continue to expose the goodness of America to the people of this planet as much as I can.  

And there is much about us that is good, just and right.

Finally, I serve by finding and fostering the goodness within America.  I offer myself as an example of how this nation, at it very best, can be diverse, humane, tolerant and conscious.  

This is the highest and best form of service that I can offer.

Your Right to Complain About the Economy: The Official Quiz

Your Right to Complain About the Economy

The Official Quiz

Answering three of the five following entitles bearer to busting this paper out and screaming, "DO YOU HAVE ONE OF THESE, PUNK?!"

I'm posting the answer right under its respective question.  Don't cheat.

1. Imperialist Capitalism, Inc. has a factory based in Illinois that reports a net profit this year of 130 million dollars. This year, they opened another factory in PoLittleOlUsuania which reported profits of 52 gazillion bazillion dollars. How much did Imperialist Capitalism contribute to the GDP of America?

Answer to #1: Come on, it's called Gross Domestic Product, which is defined as consumer ready goods and services produced within the United States.  Imperialist Capitalism, Inc.'s contribution to America's GDP is 130 million dollars.  PoLittleOlUsistan gets to add the 52 gazillion bazillion dollars to its GDP, even if the CEO of Imperialist Capitalism puts the profits in an offshore executive spending account in the Caymans in order to purchase 55 houses in the Cote d'Azure, a private jet in Dubai and 40 million pez dispensers from Japan. Each of those nations will calculate the money spent on those items within their own respective GDPs, as well.  Globalization is fun. 

2. Are we in a recession? How would you find out if we are? (Hint: The answer is not "my neighbor lost her job.")

Answer to #2: A recession is categorized as negative growth in the GDP for several months.  Most economists agree upon about six months.  To know if that is happening you could glue yourself to the television and beleive what they tell you, like a good little lemming, or go to the Bureau of Economic Analysis' website and find out what the GDP has been for the past several months. We are not in a recession. In fact, this month our GDP increased by 1.9%. Don't get too happy, GDP is only one of many economic indicators.

3. Who is in charge of making the final decision about our nation's fiscal policy?

Answer to #3: The president has a Council of Economic Advisors who analyze the economy and make recommendations. A budget is put together by the Office of Management and Budget in the White House and then submitted to Congress, who then passes the legislation that authorizes spending and taxation. But it's Congress who makes the final decision. Did you read that right? Yes, Congress.  So, it's Congress, not the President, who makes the final decision. I don't know why I keep feeling the need to say that over and over again. 

4. What is the intention behind an investment tax credit?

Answer to #4: An investment tax credit is aimed at encouraging economic growth by increasing a business' (es'??) or industry's ability to invest. It's the amount that businesses are allowed by law to deduct from their taxes that has been aimed at investing. Hence the terms investment, tax and credit. Golly, economics sure is tricky.  Incidentally, both McCain and Obama are proposing these types of credits, but for different sectors of the economy.  I'm sure you know who is for what and which is for whom.  (That was a very Seuss-like sentence, wasn't it?)

5. Name 4 of the top ten countries with whom we have a trade deficit.

Answer to #5: Our trade deficit is at about $700 billion dollars, give or take. The top ten countries with whom we have a trade deficit are (drum roll, please): China, Canada, Japan, Mexico, Venezuela, Germany, Saudi Arabia, Nigeria (probably because of all the jailed diplomats who are recieving wire transfers from little old ladies in America), Russia and Angola (Angola? Really? Really, Angola.).  Fun fact: What do most of these countries have in common?  You got it, smarty pants, petroleum.  Petroleum which is used to make fuel and plastics.  So walk and recycle and you could help eliminate our deficit.

I posted the answers right under the question and you had to read them to see if you were right.  Therefore, if you are still here, you know the answers to all of the above questions which means you have a right to complain about the economy.  

I may be a "democrat snob" and "liberal elite," but, hey, I'm a benevolent liberal elite who is not afraid to bestow my wisdom upon the cake eating unwashed masses.  (Sarcasm, haters, it's called sarcasm.)

If you have noticed any discrepancies or misinformation in any of the posts above, please feel free to be the pretentious know-it-all who points them out to me in the comment section of my blog. 

'Playing Russian Roulette': How One New Orleanian Copes With the Threat of Hurricanes

Written By: Traci, or is it Jill...Whatever.

I’ve lived in and around New Orleans for 7 years now, and I've got a deep love-hate relationship with the city that I think is common of most New Orleanians. Yes, I think of myself as a New Orleanian. I teach 4th grade and work with other teachers on staff development in a local parish.

To me, New Orleans is completely unique. All at once, it embodies France, Spain, America, and a third world country. It holds a deep history and an overwhelming culture. Still, there's always a sadness that permeates even the biggest of celebrations. This celebration of the macabre and life in its entirety within New Orleans makes it very difficult for me to feel comfortable in any other city or environment.

New Orleans reminds me of that dysfunctional child with whom you get frustrated for not making good decisions or being like other children. But another part of me loves that child even more because of the difficulties they face, especially when I understand that they need more than a "normal" child.

During Hurricane Katrina, I evacuated to Florida with my dogs, while my husband had to stay behind to work in a local hospital. I spent the next 7 days glued to the television in disbelief of what was happening in my city. When I first moved there, I heard that the levees would not hold in the event of a major hurricane. I couldn’t believe that this was a known problem and nothing had been done. Surely, we had the ability in the 21^st Century to repair levees so that they would hold?

Apparently, the city and state had sought funding to strengthen the levees but were repeatedly denied the funding. Ironically, our state received no profits from the oil companies that drilled off our coast. Many scientists have argued that this same drilling contributed to the destruction of the wetlands and barrier islands surrounding us that would have protected us from hurricanes like Katrina. Texas and Alaska receive large profits from the oil drilling that occurs off of their shores, but I digress.

When I left, I had taken comfort in the thought that FEMA, the Red Cross, and many other organizations were stationed right outside the city, and stood ready to aid as soon as the storm passed. To them, I guess, "soon" meant about 7 days. I lost tremendous belief in our government as I watched our city swirl in despair. This wasn't an unpredictable earthquake or a surprise terrorist attack. Hurricane Katrina was an event everyone knew was coming and the possible repercussions of it were known well in advance, too.

I also lost the hope and comfort that are the rights of every U.S citizen. I arrogantly believed that our country would save us from any peril that could strike. That we were rich enough, strong enough, and certainly capable enough to conquer the worst of disasters. A predictable category II hurricane took those beliefs away from me. I will never understand how we could be in Thailand after a tsunami within less than 24 hours whereas it took five days for our National Guard to arrive in New Orleans. Nor can I understand how Canada’s National Guard managed to arrive in St. Bernard for hospital evacuations several days before our own guard arrived in the city.

I’ve come to accept that living in New Orleans means that evacuation can and will be a part of my life. I know many people that lost everything they own and I’m okay with losing all of the possessions that I deem not worthy enough to fit into my car. I’m not okay, though, with leaving the lives of people that I love in the hands of the federal, state, and local government.

I was in a busy fog and not relating Gustav to Katrina until a fellow teacher gave me a big hug on our last school day before the storm. That's when it hit hard. I remembered the many people and students I never saw again after Katrina. A deep panic set in for my students.

As they left, I tried to tell them everything would be fine, I loved them, I’d see them on Tuesday and they’d better know their times tables. I guess that’s my way of instilling a sense of normalcy in my children that I think they needed. As we waited for the storm, I feared for people I knew that talked about staying. I feared for the children that have to rely on their parent’s judgment for safety.

There is no question that Gustav has been handled better, and I’m very happy to see we have learned from our mistakes. Our current governor, Bobby Jindal, did an amazing job orchestrating a major evacuation. I disagree with many of his policies, but can't deny that he's extremely intelligent and a great leader. Although I think it was as stupid mistake on McCain's part, I’m happy he overlooked Jindal as Vice President. This way, we can keep him a little longer. Our local leaders had detailed plans in place and acted swiftly and calmly, too. Mayor Nagin was able to salvage some of his reputation, and at least this time President Bush looked concerned bunkered down in Texas instead of flying off to San Diego as he did last time.

I felt a million times better in how it was handled this time. I contribute a large part of the success to our state governor. He was very proactive. Still, the threat looms. Three years later, our levees remain at “Pre-Katrina” levels which means a Katrina type storm could still take us out. To me, God has given us plenty of time to get our act together, but our city remains threatened by the day it will sit in ten feet of water. I think a lot of the rest of the nation are tired of hearing about us. A part of me can understand their perspective, as unenlightened as it may be.

My biggest problem is the levees that still aren’t up to standard. Gustav lost strength, so the outcome turned out well. What about the next hurricane, though? The levees are built by the Army Corp of Engineers and most of that money comes from the federal government. And, frankly, I have a problem with them. Once our levees are built up to standard, then we won’t need any more "support."

At this point, I continue to feel like we're playing Russian roulette every time a hurricane comes close to us.

** As of the posting of this entry, Hurricane Ike, a category II with 105 mph winds is headed towards the Gulf of Mexico.

Rocked Me Like A Hurricane

Running a refugee camp is pretty easy. Oops, I didn't mean refugee, I meant evacuee camp.

The earlier part of this week, my home served as shelter to four wayward New Orleanians fleeing from Gustav. My evacuees were my brother, his very lovely wife (let's call them Jack and Jill since they're painfully old fashioned and think someone will stalk them to death if I put their names on the Internet) and their two very crazy dogs.

It was awesome!! We watched CNN all day. When they weren't trying to pretend to stay calm as water pushed over levee walls, we founded a country called "Liberalistan" in my living room and proceeded to reenact the perfect Democratic National Convention.

Jill pretended she was Hillary, Jack pretended to be Obama, and they had a wrestling match where Hil won and Obama cried like a little girl. Tariq pretended he was Bobby Jindal announcing that he had finally decided to become a Democrat, and I got to be Soledad O'Brien.

My daughter watched us intently and I'm pretty sure I saw the realization wash over her three year old face that she didn't have a fighting chance at a normal life.

Last time, Jack and Jill evacuated New Orleans, though, we didn't have so much fun.

Three years ago, with a week old baby in my arms, a father in the hospital from a triple bypass surgery, and a house full of in-laws, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that a little hurricane named Katrina was tap dancing her way through the Atlantic.

I was raised in Florida, so hurricanes don't really inspire much fear in me. In fact, my general feelings about hurricanes center around disappointment. Here's how almost every single hurricane from my childhood played out:

Everyone: A hurricane is coming, a hurricane is coming. Sandbags, water, peanut butter, oh my!

Me: Sweet. I don't have to go to school. No Algebra (which should really have been called, "Let's tear Faiqa's self esteem down by making her feel like the biggest idiot in the world")?

Everyone: Oh, thank goodness, the hurricane turned. It's going to North Carolina instead.

Me: Kids in North Carolina are so lucky.

As Katrina edged its way towards New Orleans, though, Jill called and told me that she was evacuating the city. Jack would not be accompanying her immediately because he's a doctor and his hospital wouldn't let him to leave.

The hurricane finally hit and you're well aware of what happened to the city after that.

No phones, electricity or a way to leave the city translated into days that rolled by where we didn't hear from Jack. Twenty four hour news stations, also known as crack rock for the anxious, did nothing to assure anyone in my family of his safety.

Bodies floated through the streets of New Orleans and I pushed the worst thoughts about Jack's situation out of my head. For days, all that would come out of my mouth was, "This is America. This isn't supposed to happen here." But, it did happen here.

I will never really know the details of what happened in New Orleans that August. And I still can't imagine how it must have felt to lose your home, your pet or even your family to something as seemingly innocuous as weather.

But, I know what I felt. I felt angry because I had watched over my younger brother all my life. Now, the people "in charge" had failed me, Jill, my parents and everyone who loved him so much. Worse, I felt humiliated because I had arrogantly thought that we were better than this. That we were better than them over there.

About a week later, I watched my brother sleep off his Katrina hangover on my sofa, with my daughter sleeping peacefully upon his chest. I had never loved him more than I did at that moment. He was home, he was safe, and it was over.

I don't think it will ever be over for Jack and Jill, though. I remember them having a lot more faith in people before Katrina. Sometimes, when we talk of politics or society, I'll hear them say something that reminds me that a great deal of their faith in the goodness of people probably drowned in the flooded streets of New Orleans three years ago.

Now, if you ask Jack how he likes New Orleans, I swear you could see a shadow flit across his face before he answers. I suppose he's experiencing a sense of pain, loss or despair in that moment. The truth is, I don't know what lives in that shadow, and I can only make far reaching guesses.

The shadow does show me how Katrina still bears heavy upon the hearts of the people who lived it. And that it's not going to lighten up anytime soon.

** My sister-in-law, seven year resident of New Orleans, a former Katrina and Gustav evacuee, and all around awesome person will be guest posting on this topic on Monday, so be sure to come back!!

The Elephant in the Room

Yes, I know. Obamassiah said we weren't allowed to talk about Sarah Palin's daughter being in the family way. It's a private matter, I get that.

I am an evil, evil person because I've got to say something about it.

Bristol Palin is pregnant. To be completely honest, I really don't care. I completely agree with the right and left contentions that this is a family matter and the media or anyone else has no business discussing her or her unborn child.

Even if her mom is the one that told everyone.

But, you know what? I also think infidelity is a family matter. Remember that guy that was president eight years ago? Remember how he cheated on his wife with that White House Intern? I want to know where all the Republicans hell bent on protecting Bristol Pallin's right to privacy were when Chelsea Clinton's parent's marriage was being destroyed on national television.

Furthermore, when Clinton said he "did not have sex with that woman," everyone called him a liar. And they were right. He lied and it was a sad display.

But didn't Sarah Palin say that her daughter had not attended school in the last several months because she had contracted mono? Does anyone out there know if she actually does have mono?

One might argue that she did it to protect her daughter. O.K., I buy that.

But why couldn't one just translate that argument over to Bill Clinton, too? Maybe he was trying to protect his daughter from being hurt? Regardless, if Bristol doesn't have mono, her mother, gasp, lied about it.

And, I am curious, if Barack Obama had a seventeen year old daughter who was pregnant, would everyone applaud him for supporting her decision? Not likely.

People may not realize this, but I'm a very conservative person when it comes to family life. What I mean to say is that in my own life, I do not live an "anything goes" philosophy, and I'm pretty rigid in determining my own personal actions. See how I phrased that, my own personal actions?

I'm careful in expressing morality laden opinions or forcing others to follow my own set of rules regarding morality.

I'm even more careful about judging those who do not follow my personal beliefs, and I consciously make an effort not to evaluate other people's choices as "good" or "bad."

(God, I am so awesome. How can you stand it?).

I think a lot about what being an American means, and, to me, this is a very basic tenet: your personal beliefs are a valuable contribution to your nation, but your duty as an American is to respect and revere your fellow citizen's beliefs, as well. This is at the heart of the many other things that were meant to distinguish us from all those fascists in the rest of the world. (Back off, people of the rest of the world, that was a joke.)

As I said, Bristol's pregnancy doesn't bother me, nor does her decision to keep her child.

Good for her, she's displaying a real willingness to take responsibility for her actions at such a young age, I think to myself, on a personal level.

At the same time, people who choose differently from her are O.K. in my book, too. (As a side note, you can order this book from Amazon.com, it's called, My Book: 10001 Ways to Gain Faiqa's Approval).

What is disturbing to me about this whole situation is that young women who are in her same exact position, minus the Vice Presidential candidate for a mom, have historically not been afforded the respect that she is receiving right now from conservatives.

Someone from McCain's camp said, "This is what happens in families." That's absolutely true. It does happen. But, I don't recall that being the party line when we were discussing inner city teenagers.

I remember something distinctly different being said about them. While I won't repeat it here, I'm pretty sure it wasn't "While we advocate abstinence, and we know your parents did their best to teach you values centered on abstinence, it's okay that you are pregnant. We're proud of the decision you're making to keep your baby. We are so very proud of you. "

Day of Humility Part I

Days of Humility are the days where people have every right to treat me like a jerk for compelling reasons, but instead they opt to show, through small and random acts of kindness, that the world is a good place with nice people in it.

The ability of a human being to return rage, ignorance and stupidity with love, understanding and patience is truly a superpower. Why don't they have an X-Man For that? They could call him MahaXma. Lame, I know

Interestingly enough, when we lapse sporadically into ignorant, stupid and rage filled behavior we can truly appreciate the superheroes in our life.

Uber Day of Deep Humility

My Carelessness rewarded with Patience and Understanding.
I got ready for my 10:30a.m. hair appointment which is on its third reschedule only to be called by the salon receptionist asking me why I missed my 9:30a.m. appointment.

She asked me to come in anyway, told me not to worry about it because they'll just call the next client and see if she can come in a little later.

When I walked in they said, very sincerely, that they were glad I could finally make it.


Impatience rewarded with Patience. Sort Of.
Had to fax papers for my husband at Kinko's.

I kept trying the stupid fax number over and over (and over) again on the Kinko's fax machine, but to no avail.

After a serious rant at my husband, I discovered that I had been dialing the main office number and not the one labeled FAX TO.

I was lucky enough to get away with a slightly disgusted eye roll.


Impatience rewarded with Love
A few minutes later, I found out my husband scheduled a massage for me for 4p.m. even though he has a terrible fever and would have to watch my three year old daughter who has also been sick.

Don't forget my scowling over the wrong fax number.

The man was a SAINT today.


Stupidity Rewarded with Kindness and Protection.
Went back to Kinko's to fax the document and realized that I had left my Check Card in their machine the last time I was there.

Shuffled to the desk, tried not to act like the idiot I felt like and asked if anyone had turned it in. Someone did, in fact, turn it in.

The guy at the desk told me not to feel bad, it happens more often than I think. (This point will be disqualified if my check card turns out having charges for a Wii Fit and liposuction within the next week or so).


Carelessness Rewarded With Kindness.
Stopped to get groceries on the way home, was fumbling with my iPhone and dropped an extra large container of Yogurt that went splat all over the floor in WD, right in front of the guy who was restocking that section.

He smiled politely and very pleasantly said, "don't worry about it." And he looked like he meant it.



Cynics might suggest that the secondary characters mentioned in these humbling moments were just doing their jobs, which is true. But they didn't have to be so nice. No one was there to see if the smiles they gave were fake other than me. Given the fact that I knew I didn't deserve a smile in many of these cases, I would've picked up on the proverbial SEG.

People, when they had a choice, chose to be nice, and, in many cases, to a relative stranger.

I'm humbled by that today.

Tomorrow, I will resume being a stuck up suburbanite with a German car.

Armchair Activism: Making A Difference in 45 Minutes or Less

“Throughout history, it has been the inaction of those who could have acted; the indifference of those who should have known better; the silence of the voice of justice when it mattered most; that has made it possible for evil to triumph.” --H. Selassie

Instead of some pathetically whiny plea aimed at getting you to do something about the genocide and population displacement occurring in Darfur, I am going to cut to the chase and tell you what I have done to help alleviate the situation. It's not much, but it is a whole lot better than nothing.

First, I am making darn sure that I am not funding the Sudanese government and the militias that they arm. Sudan is rich in oil reserves. They do not, however, have the resources to extract this oil, so the Sudanese government sells that right to major corporations. Seventy percent of the funds obtained by the Sudanese government are used to fund the military. The military, in turn, supports the janjaweed militia groups that have raped, tortured and attempted to annihilate the people of Darfur.

Your mutual fund, 401k, or pension fund could be investing in one of these corporations. This means the money that you work hard to earn might be funding the rape, torture and murder of innocent people. Now that you know this, you have serious ethical issues if you can go to bed tonight without checking up on it.

You can research whether your pension or mutual fund is investing in one of these corporations by visiting http://www.sudandivestment.org/getInvolved.asp. You'll need the exact name of your fund, or better yet, its ticker symbol (those capital letters in parentheses). This website is great because it lets you know whether your pension fund is investing in a "highest offending" company. If they are investing in one of the corporations that fund genocide, you can initiate a a plan to practice "targeted divestment."

Targeted divestment targets those corporations who invest in sectors of the Sudanese economy that most benefit the Sudanese government, such as energy and oil. It does not, however, target corporations that are involved in the production or distribution of consumer or agricultural goods. Nor does it target services intended to relieve human suffering or services intended to promote health, educational, religious or spiritual activities.

Imagine my horror when I entered the ticker name of my Roth IRA and found that my fund invests in one of these highest offenders. Now, to my irritation, I had to write a letter to the fund manager to tell him he better shape up. I said something to the effect of, "Did you know that this company is very, very naughty and it is bad for our karma to give them money?" Actually, you can go to http://www.sudandivestment.org/docs/mutual_fund_letter_one.pdf and view a template of the exact letter that I sent. If you do not know the name of your mutual fund manager, just go to Google, type in your fund's name and the phrase "fund manager." The address that you can mail this correspondence to will most likely come up, as well.

I sent my letter out this morning and I am waiting to see what my fund manager is going to do. If he doesn't do anything about it, I am going to reinvest with a fund manager who is more bothered by the thought of feeding, clothing and arming people who gang rape women or set innocent children on fire in front of their parents. (And, yes, this is exactly what is happening in Darfur.) If I do reinvest, I will be sure to send a follow up letter to that heartless jerk and tell him exactly why I am leaving.

In addition to scrutinizing my personal investments, I also want to make sure that my tax dollars are not going to fund genocide either. Currently, there is a bill scheduled for debate in the Senate called the Sudan Accountability and Divestment Act (SADA, S.2271). This bill, in short, makes sure that corporations that the Federal government does business with must certify that their business practices do not fund genocide. Furthermore, it ensures that state and university pensions and fund managers retain the right to divest from companies that fund genocide. I wrote to my senators and told them that they better see this one through.

I didn't want my Representative in the House to feel left out, so I wrote him a letter, too. But, first, I checked out his voting record on the issue at http://www.darfurscores.org/. It was a sad and dismal display, and, in a very respectful way, I told him that.

All of this, not including some research which I have already done for you, took me about forty minutes. Do not tell me that you don't have forty minutes to spend in the cause of the Darfuri people. Literally, you could complete this action plan in the commercial breaks of two T.V. shows. It's simple, but just in case, let's review:

1, Go to http://www.sudandivestment.org/, and use their Sudan Screening Tool to see if you are inadvertently funding janjaweed militia who are responsible for the rape, torture, displacement and murder of Darfuri civilians.

2, If you have money invested in such a fund, write to your fund manager. This information can be obtained through a quick Google search. Write him or her a letter. You can review the template I used at the above mentioned website. I know the issue of divesting from a corporate matched 401K might be problematic, so I will write another post regarding solutions to a sociopathic, hell bound fund manager who refuses to divest from the offending company.

3, Write to your Senators and urge the passage of the SADA. You can read the full text of this bill at http://www.govtrack.us/congress/billtext.xpd?bill=s110-2271.

4, Look up your elected officials at http://www.darfurscores.org/ and shame them for scoring anything less than an "A" on their report card. And if, as was the case with me, on of your senators has an "A" (shout out to Bill Nelson!!), thank them, and tell them to keep it up.

Last , but certainly NOT least, every time someone brings up Britney Spears, Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan, TomKat, Michael Jackson or some other piece of celebrity trash who is a total waste of oxygen, I am going to say, "I know they are sooo crazy (laugh casually, then sigh). But, you know what is even crazier? The fact that none of these media outlets are reporting on what is happening in Darfur. Did you know that..." and I will launch into a one minute or less speech which covers the following talking points:

1, Five hundred thousand people have perished in this genocide. Over 4 million are in need of humanitarian aid, and over 2 million have been displaced from their homes. Half a million have been displaced in the last eighteen months.

2, UN Security Council Resolution 1769 was passed a year ago and authorized the deployment of 26,000 peacekeeping troops on behalf of an African-UN effort aimed at protecting Dafuris, yet because not a single nation has, of yet, given the helicopters necessary for the operation, nothing has been done. Additionally, there is no funding for the initial phases of this project. The U.S. FY2008 falls about 186 million dollars short of America's needed contribution to the effort. 186 million? I bet you could find that in the bottom of a sofa in the oval office.

3, Women whose husbands, sons and fathers have been murdered are routinely gang raped while doing basic chores such as gathering firewood or fetching water. Some Darfuris have said that, in their culture, it is better for these women to be dead than to be labelled rape victims.


I will then say, "Can you believe that CNN/Fox News/MSNBC are insulting our moral conscience by thinking that we don't care about these issues?"


The number one thing we can do about this situation is simply create awareness. Tell people to go visit a site like http://www.savedarfur.org/ for more information. Or tell them to read this blog posting so, at least, they can do something with the extra forty five minutes they might find in their week. I'm sure you will agree that doing a little bit is a lot better than doing nothing.