Great News – April 2, 2020

Hi!

I should have posted this yesterday, or at least earlier today. But I’ve been distracted, working on a new tutorial about the Line Tool in Photoshop.

As some of you know, I’ve been battling cancer for the last year. Yesterday, I had a CT scan, blood work, and a video visit with the physician assistant who works with my oncologist.

It’s all good news!

The remaining, very tiny, nodule in my lung is stable. It’s probable that it’s scar tissue, not cancer. My blood work looks great. I have a tiny little bit of anemia left, but that’s all. I’m no longer immunocompromised, and I don’t need any treatment. I’ll have another CT Scan on July 1, because we need to keep an eye on it, but so far, so good!

Which is why I’m working on other things.

It’s taken me longer than I thought to get over the chemo. My hair is starting to grow back, but I still have “chemo-brain.” I forget what I’m doing while I’m doing it, it’s a bit hard to focus my eyes, and I don’t have a lot of stamina. But I’m getting better every day. At least, that’s what I tell myself. (And Michael agrees.)

For those of you who want to know when I can sign cards and things, ummm… not quite yet. I’m still a bit shaky, and autographs (unlike the stuff I’m doing on the computer) don’t have an “undo” function. I don’t want to mess up your cards or books. Thanks for your patience. I hope to be able to do all the things I used to do in another month or so.

Until then, I’m working on things for Second Life, working on tutorials, and yes, Michael and I are being very careful. I’ve only left the house for the tests and Michael is wiping down everything that comes from the grocery store with antiseptic wipes. 

Take care of yourselves, and thanks again for all your kind wishes, love and support.

I love you all!

Cancer Log 20.1.10

More really great news!

On Monday, I had another CT Scan. Yesterday, I had some blood work, and went to my oncologist again.

 I’m still anemic, but the rest of the blood work is pretty much back in the normal range. My immune system and platelets are back on line. Yay!

The nodules have gotten even smaller. (The raw numbers are about the same size as I reported last time, because, as the doctor explained to us, different radiologists estimate the size of things this tiny differently. So they compare the two scans, and note the size (as they see it) for the one in November, and the size of the one this week. The nodules are about half the size they were.)

They are now too tiny for surgery. The surgeon wouldn’t be able to find them. They are so small, my oncologist said, that it’s possible there are no cancer cells left, and what we are seeing is just scar tissue. 

All three are in the upper lobe of my left lung. The one that the original PET scan found in my right lung seems to have vanished, according to the doctor.

So, he told us, we now have two choices. I could have another two sessions of chemo, or I can have a break for a couple of months, and then another CT Scan to see if anything has changed.

I asked which he recommended, and he said the break. Which means that I can recover completely from chemo before anything else has to be done. If anything else has to be done at all.

So that’s what I’m doing! We go back on April 1 (which is the perfect day for it) and if all is well, which I think is what he’s expecting, then we just go back every three months for another CT scan for the rest of my life. In the meantime, I have a five o’clock shadow on my scalp, and my eyebrows are itching, because the hair is growing back in.

As my oncologist left the room, he said, “Congratulations!”

So, with any luck, that’s it for the Cancer Log, at least for a while. We now return you to the regularly scheduled blog, about Second Life and the occasional short story, if anyone is interested in short stories!

Cancer Log 19.12.21

Hey people! Happy Solstice!!

I had the echo cardio gram and it showed my heart was fine. My Hemoglobin was down to 8 – normal is12 to 16. So the Dr decided to go ahead with the last session of Chemo and to give me 2 units of red blood cells (Note: not whole blood.) So I went into the infusion center on December 12th, and had the 3 full days of Chemo. They gave me one of the units of blood on Friday, the other on Saturday, (My hands and face turned pink for the the first time in weeks.)

However, as expected, the Chemo really whipped me – to the point that although I am dictating this, Michael (retired now) is typing it in. I still don’t know how we’ll publish this, but if you’re reading this – we managed.

So, Chemo is over, and there was much rejoicing! I went into the local U of M clinic to have my blood drawn for testing Thursday the 19th. The test showed that I had a hemoglobin reading of 9.8. It’s better, but I’m still quite anemic. On January 6th I go back to get a CT scan to see how effective the Chemo has been. On the 9th I talk with the Dr again to discuss future treatments (if any).

Thanks for all you kind thoughts and well wishes! Enjoy the holiday season and you should hear from me again in the new year!

Cancer Log – 19.10.25.

I know that some of you have been waiting for me to tell you how the new treatment went. I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to write the post. I had the extra two weeks off between sessions, and somehow, in that time, I forgot how bad the chemo makes me feel. 

So, the last session was at the Medical Center at the University of Michigan, October 2, 3, and 4. I went there each day, and came home at night, instead of being admitted to the hospital. It was much nicer to be able to sleep in my own bed, and eat Michael’s cooking, and generally be away from it all every night. 

I was told I’d have a private room, with a private bathroom. That wasn’t strictly true. I had a private room with a private toilet and sink, and a curtain I could draw around them. I could also close the door into the area where all the nurses were working, so it was private enough to be comfortable. 

I had the private toilet because they were keeping track of how much fluid was going out, as well as how much they were pumping in. Something they didn’t do in the hospital. 

The doxorubicin was delivered via a pump that lived in a fanny pack. It worked flawlessly. I have it at home now, and I have charged the battery for the next session. 

The other big difference was the delivery of the Neulasta. That’s the very expensive drug that boosts the immune system; pretty much necessary after each session of chemo. 

Before, my former oncologist was having me drive all the way back to Farmington Hills on the Monday after the session ended to get the shot. That meant that I wasn’t getting it until about 50 hours after chemo ended. The recommended timing is 24 hours. 

This time, they stuck a gadget on my arm that delivered the shot 27 hours after they put it in place. So not only was I getting the shot in the recommended time frame, but we didn’t have to make a long trip back to the medical center. 

Which means Michael got to work two full five day weeks, for the first time since April. 

All in all, it was a much better experience than the first three sessions. I’m so glad we switched doctors. 

I go back on Halloween day for the beginning of the next three day session. We’ll be going in that Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. Sometime after that I’ll have another CT scan, and we’ll find out if this set of chemo drugs is working. 

If it is, I’ll have another session. Or maybe two, since I did have that extra two weeks off. If not, the doctor knows what drug cocktail he’ll be trying next. 

So, that’s where we are. Thanks again, everyone, for all your support. I love you all!

Cancer Log – 19.10.4

Yesterday I had an appointment with the new doctor at the University of Michigan.

Unlike other doctors, both he and his assistant (an internist who is planning to become an oncologist) examined me throughly. The bronchitis (or whatever it was) segued into a cold which isn’t quite over, so I was wearing a mask and coughing some. Neither one seemed to think it anything out of the ordinary.

The upshot is; I had a CT scan May 6. Chemo started July 15. The CT scan on September 12 showed a slight increase in two nodules, but because there was no CT scan taken in July there is no way to know when that growth occurred. Or how much growth there was that might have been reduced, for that matter. So it’s impossible to say with any certainty that the chemo isn’t working.

So the U of M doctor (hereinafter known as my oncologist) is going to try the chemo again. It starts next week, and we’ll do two sessions and another CT scan to see what has happened. If it’s working, then we’ll do another session, or perhaps two, and then give me a break, followed by as many sessions (and breaks) as needed.

If it’s not, he knows exactly what drug cocktail he’s going to use next. He even told us the names of the drugs, but I don’t remember what they are. (I’m blaming it on having a head full of mucus.)

He’s also going to consult with a thoracic surgeon to see about the feasibility of surgery to remove them. A lot will depend on how many of the tiny little nodules in my lungs are actually cancer.

It turns out I have dozens of them. I thought all the rest were scar tissue (my poor lungs have been through a lot, starting in my infancy,) since only a couple were bright on the PET scan, but that might not be the case.

My oncologist explained that PET scans work by bonding a radioactive tracer to glucose, and injecting it into your bloodstream. Then they see how much of that glucose various cells have taken up. Things that always take up a lot of glucose, like your liver and brain, are always bright. Lungs aren’t so much, because they don’t use as much glucose. Cancer, of course, does. But tumors that are too small to use enough glucose also don’t show up on a PET scan. So, we know for sure that one of the nodules is cancer, because it was biopsied. We’re assuming the other bright spot is also cancer. But there’s no way to tell for sure about all the spots that didn’t glow. They might be scars, or they might not.

We’ll have to keep an eye on them to see.

But, for now, I’m going back to an infusion center, as an outpatient this time (yay!) Three consecutive days, six to eight hours a day, depending on how well I do with it. I’ll be wearing a doxorubicin pump home, and the Neulasta shot will be one of those packs on my arm (as seen on TV) or a shot I can give myself. So I’ll be sleeping in my own bed, eating my own food, and I won’t have to go all the way back to Ann Arbor for the shot the next day. And there was much rejoicing.

They have to squeeze me in, so we don’t know what days I’ll be going yet. They will be calling (eventually) to tell me.

I’m so glad that I’m now seeing an oncologist who knows what he’s doing. Michael called the other one, and told her I’ve switched doctors, so she won’t wonder what happened, or keep trying to make appointments for me.

And that’s where we stand now. I’ll try to answer questions if any of you have them.

Love you all!

Cancer Log – Earthdate 19.09.17

On Monday, September 9, I went in for a CT scan with contrast. It went as well as any test where you have to drink 3 glasses of barium can go. At least it was the watery barium, not the thick stuff. Good thing I don’t mind the taste of bitter things. (I have been known to eat unsweetened Baker’s Chocolate, when I really need a chocolate fix!) I also got a shot of iodine right into a vein. It felt kind of weird, but didn’t harm me in any way.

On Wednesday the 11th, I woke up feeling kind of bad. By afternoon my fever was up to 101.3° and I had a knot in the middle of my chest, right under my sternum, that was making it hard to breathe.

By 5:30 am on Thursday the 12th, I could barely breathe at all, and my fever was up to 101.6°. One of the things they tell you when you start chemo is that if your fever goes over 101.5° you have to go to the Emergency Room. So off we went.

They were extremely nice, accessed my port, took a bunch of blood, and gave me Tylenol, fluids, and an IV antibiotic. They also took a chest x-ray and (on the orders of my oncologist) another CT scan, without contrast this time. They told me it all looked clear, made sure my temperature was back to normal, and sent me home. Where my fever went right back up to 102.1°.

On Friday the 13th we had a long-scheduled appointment with my oncologist.

First, as usual, we saw the resident. He looked at the CT Scan from the day before, and told us it showed enlarged lymph nodes in the center of my chest, and a small pocket of fluid in the pleural cavity of my right lung, both almost undoubtedly from the infection. He said the fluid wasn’t enough to do anything about. But, he said, the nodule in my lung had increased in size from 0.5 cm to 0.8 cm.

Then my oncologist came in, said that the cancer had spread to my lymph nodes and my pleural cavity, (which isn’t something phyllodes tumors do,) and that the nodule had more than doubled in size to 1.1 cm. All of which showed that chemo wasn’t working, so she was going to stop treating me for two weeks. She admitted she didn’t know what to do next, since my cancer was so rare, so she sent me home with a script for antibiotics (without even listening to my chest, or examining me in any way) and scheduled a test to sample the fluid.

She also said she’d be sending samples of the tumor off for Next Gen Sequencing, to see if there was a treatment for any genetic mutations in the tumor. That was so expensive that I had to fill out paperwork for financial aid (which I’m sure we aren’t eligible for.) There also should have been blood samples in a special kit for genetic comparison, but my doctor failed to let the office staff know about that. (They called after we got home to say they needed the blood, could we come back Monday.)

Michael got the script filled. But when I read the package insert, I found that that particular antibiotic could permanently damage tendons and nerves, and that the tendon damage was more likely in patients over the age of 60. (Me.) It also said not to take it if you have Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, because it can cause an aneurism. (Also me.)

The thing is, Michael and I promised each other, after the last time, that we’re not going to wait until a doctor half kills one of use before we switch doctors ever again.

So, on Saturday we went to an urgent care, and got an antibiotic that wasn’t likely to cause more harm than good. (Note: when a drug says to take it with a snack or small meal, they really mean it. Ignore that at your peril!)

Then yesterday, we cancelled the blood kit, called the specialist in Ann Arbor, and asked if he’d take me as a patient. We’ll be seeing him on Oct. 3.

Today the pain and knot in what I’m assuming is my bronchial tubes is gone, although I’m still coughing quite a bit (not as much as yesterday, though!) My fever as I write this is 99.7°. Oh, and the catch on the right side when I breathe, which I’m guessing was the fluid, is gone. So, still not well, but much, much better. 

And that’s where we stand now. More news as I have it, and am able to write a blog post. 

Love you all!

What’s Going On

As you may have noticed, I haven’t written a new blog post in more than a year. There are reasons for this, and it all boils down to I haven’t been at all well. But I’m getting better! (I hope.)

For a long time – years – my energy level has been steadily dropping. Last November, just before Thanksgiving, we found out that the reason was that I had developed diabetes, and it was Really Bad. It had gotten so out of hand because I had a Very Bad Doctor who, although I’d informed him I had diabetes on both sides of the family, and needed regular blood tests, hadn’t been doing them. (Kids! Ask for the results of all your blood work! Don’t let the doctor tell you, “If you don’t hear from me, it’s all normal.”)

The diabetes is completely under control now. I’ve even been able to go off the insulin, and am managing the disease with just diet and exercise. I was feeling better than i have in years!

But.

Because we (needless to say) fired that doctor, and because we also switched our insurance (I am finally old enough for Medicare,) we wound up without a doctor until early April.

By then, a lump that I’d had in my right breast since November 2005, and which had twice been diagnosed as benign, had started to get weird.

Cut to the chase; it turns out that I have stage four cancer. Not a common type, because why would I do that? I have phyllodes tumors. In my case, it grew very slowly for 14 years, and then went nuts, growing from the size of my fist to 15 pounds between April 3 and June 15. I had a double mastectomy on June 15, and surgery went very well. So that part is gone, and there was much rejoicing.

However, because of the years and years of neglect, mine has metastasized to my lungs, where I have two very small tumors. So my oncologist has me on chemo. There’s no need to go into details but chemo isn’t any fun, and it doesn’t leave me with a lot of strength to do other things.

I’ll try to keep anyone who is interested updated via this blog, because people have been asking. I’m (obviously) not keeping any of this secret, so if you want to talk about it with others, send energy, pray, light candles, and so on please feel free.

Just don’t expect a whole lot from me for a while. My energy is kind of wrapped up in getting well.

Thanks for reading. I love you all!

Robin

Catch Up

So, it’s been ages since I posted, because I’ve been running before the wind, as the saying goes. I have a few minutes right now, though, so I thought I’d try to catch up, and let people know what’s in the works.

The main project is an update to my website. It’s been years since it was updated, and it’s long past time that it was done. But it’s a huge job, because it’s a huge site.

The last time I worked on it, too long ago to remember, I only did half the site before I got busy with other things. The half I didn’t do, of course, was the Grove. Yes, sadly, those pages have been there, untouched, for longer than some adults who might read this have been alive. Whew!

When I got to the Altar page, I realized the main picture there is way, way, way too small for current standards. When I first posted those pages the web was a whole different, and much slower, place.

Which meant that I needed to re-render the altar scene. But I couldn’t just dust off the old scene and render at a higher resolution, because the software I used, Infini-D, has been gone for many years. (It was sold, resold, smushed together with Ray Dream Designer to make Cararra, and sold again some time last century. Literally. Cararra is owned by DAZ now, but it can’t open the ancient Infini-D files as far as I know.)

Anyway, I use Modo these days, so I rebuilt the scene from old .obj files I saved when I realized that Infini-D was going, going, gone.

Which meant that I was essentially making all new models based loosely on the old models.

Which meant, as long as I was redoing them all, it wasn’t all that much more work to bring them into Second Life. Where the altar set that I still had in my in-world store dated from 2004. (That’s the thing about getting old. You have to keep redoing and updating work that you finished long ago, because the world has changed.)

So. For the last couple of weeks I’ve been eyebrow-deep in modo, making altar ware for Second Life. I have enough of them finished now  that I put them together into an Altar Set.

Altar Set in Second Life
Altar Set for Second Life

You can get it now at the Second Life Marketplace, or from The Broom Closet on my sim, Livingtree, in SL.

I still have plenty of pieces that are finished in modo, but need to have the SL textures and LODs made. Things like the Athame, wand, chime, incense that uses self-igniting charcoal, and so on. You can see them in the raw test render that’s the Featured Image for this post.

Well, mostly raw. I just noticed that I have one lens flare there, because I was experimenting to see if the idea I had for lens flares would work. But I need to render it with the lighting I intend to use, and the proper gamma, and all the rest of that stuff. It’s not going to look like that when it’s done!

I’ll be bringing everything into SL except the hyacinths. I didn’t remake those, and the mesh is way too dense for SL. I substituted the rosebuds, instead.

Anyway, now that the basic set is in there, I’m going to be concentrating more on the website. No idea when it’s going to be finished, but hopefully sometime before the end of summer. I might need to change it in chunks to make it, but people do that, sometimes. Right?

So that’s what I’ve been up to. Now that the pressure has eased a bit, I hope to be able to post more often, and show you where I am, and how far I’m getting.

Because I can’t keep working at the pace I’ve been trying to maintain. I’m too old for that!

So, let me know what you think about all of this!

Until next time!

The Arcade in SL, September 2017

It’s the first of September, and once again, the Arcade is open in Second Life. It’s been five years now, and it’s still going strong!

I was in the first Arcade, and I’ve been in lots of them (but not all) since. I’m there again this time, with a bunch of Corn Dollies.

 

Corn Dollies Key image
The Corn Dollies Key

It’s all Marianne McCann’s fault. She was the one who begged for them. I was going to do this set a long time ago, and then got distracted, and only did one. I put that one in an Arcade set called Grandma’s Attic, which was really a whole lot of things that I had sitting around in my workroom, but had never really finished, or finished and never put up for sale. I have a lot of things like that, at any time.

But Mari never forgets, especially when it’s something she really wants, and so she kept nudging until I got this set done. If you like them, thank her!

There are 12 in the set, plus the reward.

Many of them are scripted; for instance, there’s one with a quilt, which lets you swap between 3 different quilt patterns. There’s one with a parasol, that lets you choose from 12 different parasol designs. There’s one holding a bird, that plays birdsong when you touch her, until you touch her again. There’s one with a working lantern that has all kinds of different options. There’s one with a bubble wand, that lets you toggle the bubbles on and off. There’s one on a swing that can really swing.

All of them let you change the colors of their skin, hair, apron, dress, and kerchief (or hair bows) separately, so you can have them look just the way you want.

You can also use your own pictures for the one with the quilt, or the one who is painting, just by dragging them over the quilt or picture that’s there.

The Reward is only available during the Arcade, and is copy/mod, no transfer, so you won’t be able to pick her up at any of the sales or trades. This is your only chance to get her, and only by playing the machine 25 times. She’s holding a jack-o-lantern that’s really a light, with all the options (including changing the light color and brightness.) It’s a bit early for Halloween, but it won’t be by the time the Arcade closes on September 31.

Corn Dollie Jackie, 25 play reward
The Reward you get for 25 plays!

So go ahead, and try your luck at my machine at The Arcade! All the dolls (except the Reward) are mod/transfer, and all of them are 1 LI at the size given. You can shrink them small enough to put in my dollhouse, or make them huge, although LI goes up as they get big (of course.)

While you are there, don’t forget to pick up the Birthday Presents! You’ll find them on the huge cake in the middle of the venue. Happy Birthday, Arcade!

Thoughts

I wrote this in January, and just found it. I didn’t post it then, and I don’t know, now, why I didn’t. I suspect it’s because I was sick, and none of it seemed worth posting. It was a rough winter, and spring; I was sick most of the time, until we realized that the constant coughing and exhaustion from all the coughing had more to do with ducts that were not cleaned before we moved in here than with my lousy immune system. (Check your ducts!)

The ducts are clean now, and have been for weeks. I’m no longer coughing. And, slowly, I’m trying to get back to writing. I haven’t been writing for a very long time. Like most of the other creatives I know, creating under these circumstances is surprisingly hard. So much for hard times yielding great art.

Anyway, here’s the piece I wrote so long ago. And my hope that I’ll be writing more regularly in the future.


It’s been a long, hard time since the last time I posted on this blog, and I have a horrible feeling that it’s just going to get harder for a while.

Like many other creatives, I’ve been unable to write. The one time I tried, the post before this, someone found it necessary to write a very long comment explaining to me that I didn’t actually mean what I said in that post.

They were wrong, of course. I did mean it. I don’t write things lightly, and I think carefully before I say anything, and even more carefully, including running it past at least one other person, before I actually post.

It’s taken me months to decide what to do about the comment. I’ve never just declined to post any real comment before. (I delete spam all the time, but that’s spam. You get plenty of that already, I’m sure.) But this time, although I thought about countering his points one by one, I’ve decided not to. It’s a waste of time and energy that I frankly can’t spare at the moment. So I’m just going to ignore it.

Instead, I’m going to post something I’ve been thinking about all day, as I sit here with the snow falling all around my house.

I have a friend in California. Okay, I have a bunch of friends there, but I have one I frequently exchange weather info with.

She is forever telling me that the sky is blue. That’s what she sees, when she looks out her window. She’s even sent me pictures to prove it.

I tell her that the sky is white, or sometimes light gray. That’s what I see when I look out my window. Featureless, unbroken light gray or white, from horizon to horizon.

Neither of us is wrong about what we are seeing. We’re both reporting it accurately.

Except I’m not really seeing the sky. I’m seeing clouds. All I’ve seen for days and weeks is clouds. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen this thing called “sun,” although I’m pretty sure I saw a picture of it once.

But the truth is, the sky beyond those clouds is blue. If I could see through the clouds, I would be able to see that it is.

Privilege is like that. I’m a cis white woman. I don’t have as much privilege as a white cishet man does, but I have quite a bit. From here, behind my privilege, we have always had equal rights, here in the US. That’s what it says in the constitution, in the laws, in the stories we tell ourselves about our country. Once, long ago, we had Jim Crow, but that was all swept away in the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s. It’s gone now. Heck, we had a black president!

People on the margins of society knew that was just an illusion. That was the clouds in front of the sky. In reality, a reality I never experienced from behind my bank of privilege, there has always been massive racism in this country. The laws changed, but the attitudes of the people didn’t magically change along with them.

Ask anyone who isn’t white.

People have been trying to tell us this, ever since the sixties. From where they are, where they are being systematically imprisoned, beaten, and killed, even by law enforcement, it’s obvious that it’s not anything close to over. From where they stand, it’s clear that they have to work many times harder to get a scrap of what we assume we have by right. They are refused housing, refused education, refused simple courtesy, their very humanity and right to exist is constantly questioned. Doctors assume that they have higher pain tolerance than a white person, even though there is no evidence of such a thing, so they aren’t given the same pain meds, if they are given any at all.

They are considered to be “over sexed” through no fault of their own, and so are treated as sexual predators when they are simply minding their own business. Their sexualization a part of white fantasy, not due to anything they have done. The law treats them as if they are adults the moment they reach puberty, if not before, while treating white men as if they are children, not responsible for their actions, when they are 27, or 35, or in their 40s.

At the same time, they are treated as if they can never become adults intellectually, no matter how much experience or education they have. Totally ignorant white people talk down to people of color, because of course they know more; they’re white!

They tried to tell us. They kept pointing it out. They showed us videos, they showed us evidence, they held marches and demonstrations, where they were met with policemen in riot gear.

And then the Election came, and the clouds of our privilege rolled back, and we glimpsed the reality behind them, just for a moment. We saw that yes, indeed, racism is still alive and well, and the evidence is really all around it.

We are stunned. They tried to tell us, but we wouldn’t listen.

So now, please, for our very lives, it’s crucial that we listen.

We might not have any idea how to navigate this world, but they do. It’s the world they’ve been living in for their whole lives. In their place, we might be so angry and spiteful that we wouldn’t lift a finger to help the white people who are now tasting the bitter draught they’ve been forced to drink.

They are better than that. They aren’t really interested in changing places with us; they know too well what it feels like to be in this position.

But they can’t help us if we won’t listen.

So please, please listen.

Show up to all the marches and rallies that you can. Our white bodies offer a level of protection for those with more melanin in their skin. Did you see the difference between the police at the Women’s March and those at any Black Lives Matter demonstration? There was no riot gear, no mace, pepper spray, or nightsticks. There were pink hats, smiles, high fives. That is one of the reasons we have to be there.

But don’t talk. It’s not about us. Besides, everyone has heard our white stories too many times to count. They all know what we have to say.

Instead, let them speak. Hand them the megaphone. They are the leaders here. They are the ones who know this territory. They have lived here forever, and know how to navigate in it.

Respect the sacred spaces of those who have other religions than you. If they kneel to pray, or draw up a sacred circle, or do anything that they are doing as a group, sacred or not, don’t barge in or through. You are not more important than they are.

We are all humans, together, trying to fight through the mire and work our way to a place of freedom where we can, finally, really, be equal.

Yes, when the Founding Fathers wrote “all men are created equal” they didn’t really mean “all human beings, no matter their gender, skin color, religion, or ethnic background.” We know that. But that’s exactly what we mean. We can fulfill their dream, and make it a reality.

It will be a struggle, and it won’t come without cost.

But if we can get there, it will be oh so worth it.

It’s worth fighting for. So let’s fight. As one, with respect for all and malice towards none.

I’ll see you at the demonstration. I’ll be the one listening, not talking.

Join me.