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As we continue to support the challenge against states using voter I.D. laws as a way to disenfranchise the poor and minorities, we submit this update. Admittedly, the need for citizens to identify themselves serves many purposes beyond voting. But when the need to identify oneself in order to vote causes a hardship, or the necessary papers are unobtainable, requiring them in order to vote takes on another connotation, one of discrimination and injustice.

One vote for one person is the most obvious in needing I.D., but I.D. also displays one’s address, legality of citizenship, and eligible voting age. The problem with requiring I.D. for poor and minority voters is their not having the money and/or the information of how and where to obtain the I.D. in the first place.

If a state-certified I.D. is required, many difficult and costly stumbling blocks stand in the way. If the voter has to have a birth certificate, it costs to obtain. If the voter has a name different from the one on the birth certificate, the voter has to have a marriage license or divorce papers, which costs to obtain. If the voter does not or cannot produce a birth certificate, there are many facts that must be proven of when and where they were born, which may or may not be obtainable due to the inability to read, loss of proof, or the inability to find someone who can provide the proof. If the voter is adopted, born in another country, or English is not their first language, the obstacles can be insurmountable.

The opportunity to vote should be the right of all eligible citizens of the U.S. Adding The Right to Vote Amendment to the Constitution is fast and obviously becoming the only solution to this national problem. In the meantime, we hope the data contained below is helpful in obtaining I.D. no matter the purpose.

State issued I.D. cards:

Birth certificates from each state:

Proof of date of birth:

The Right To Vote Amendment:

In solidarity with the OCCUPY WALL STREET movement, OCCUPY POVERTY’s mission is to expose those activities against the most vulnerable of our citizens: the poor. One segment of the poor that is being continuously victimized are the parents and children involved in child abuse cases. In a recent investigation by the California State Auditor, it was discovered that nearly 600 homes out of 1000 private foster family homes where children had been placed were also the addresses of registered sex offenders.

Cited for this problem was the lack of funds, although the use of private foster family agencies has increased in the last 10 years with an additional $327 million in payments, because private foster homes are paid at a higher rate than those operated by the state or county. In the meantime, entitlement payments and wages for families of those children have decreased tremendously in the last 10 years. In addition, one of the primary reasons to uphold a case of child abuse against parents, and place children in out-of-home placement or foster care, is poverty.

Since the enactment of the War on Drugs in the 80s, this government attack on families has wreaked havoc with the destruction of thousands of families and children being repeatedly moved from home to home while growing up in foster care. In the past, children were removed based on hear-say and suspicion, but policies now include some measure of prevention, although it is still limited in its scope. Nevertheless, it is the duty of the Department of Social Services to provide protection for the children they find cause to remove from their homes.

The report continues to state that, “The counties we visited admit to placing children with these agencies out of convenience rather than for elevated treatment needs as originally intended.” Therefore, these placements were not due to advanced care for the children, but out of neglect, risk taking, and error by Child Protective Services. These are the same charges most often levied against parents when children are removed from their care.

OCCUPY POVERTY believes that children of primarily poor people are subjected to further abuse and harm by being placed in the homes of registered sex offenders. The possibilities of children being exposed to illicit and immoral treatment and activities are increased at the hands of these convicted criminals as opposed to their parents who may only lack the education, training, and ability to appropriately parent their children.

california-sex-offenders

I OCCUPY POVERTY, and I’m not alone. There are millions of Americans who have been or are becoming improvised because of the greed, arrogance, corruption and lack of compassion of both our government, and people with big money and power.

As far as the upper 1% of Americans are concerned, I am a non-entity except when it comes to utilizing me as an example, a scapegoat, or a victim to cut back on entitlements and government spending. Then my fixed income suddenly becomes un-fixed and is cut down to shore up mismanaged spending.

And because there was no voice crying out about the injustice to which I am subjected, there was no one to assist me in fighting this iniquity … until now. OCCUPY WALL STREET arrived and the entire picture of my condition and that of millions around the world has changed.

Now there are faces of outrage and demanding voices to speak for those who have been silently waiting; and there are tens of thousands to represent the file folders or case numbers to which we have been relegated. There are determined human beings insistent on obtaining equity, compassion and respect.

Although I OCCUPY POVERTY, I am not, nor have I been lazy or trifling. I have worked, paid into the system, gotten an education and training, never been arrested, been a home owner, tried to become self-sufficient, did volunteer work, voted in every election, and performed my civic duties to the best of my ability. I take full responsibility for my life.

But try though I might, I like so many others, have not been able to advance from my position. Some may say that it is our own fault, and we must take responsibility for the choices we made in life, and to an extent that’s true. However, the disadvantage of one’s origin of birth, color, sexual preference, class, status, age, health, sex, or beliefs should not be a reason to punish or penalize. Our humanity should be enough to qualify for equality.

Any parent or caretaker will tell you that one of the most frustrating situations in child rearing is when your precious little one learns to say “no.” Even at their young age, the child recognizes the power behind the word or the back and forth shake of their tousled heads.

No matter the question or the extended offer, a swift “no” is the response, and from that stubborn position bargaining must begin to try to get cooperation. Saying no is not something we are born knowing. We are taught the word and the power is transferred to us from the adults or older siblings in our lives.

The natural curiosity of a child is the usual vehicle which starts the ride into the land of no. Picking up, tying to fondle, and touching objects, the wrong foods, anything on the floor, pets, or small objects too imperceptible for anyone over 5 becomes irresistible and carries with their handling a swift “no.” Sometimes the word is accompanied with a smack on the hand or bottom for reinforcement.

Who wouldn’t learn very early on that this word has great power, and why shouldn’t I use it for myself? But what happens to that attitude as we get older? Going through life we learn that “no” is often too powerful. Particularly if we will get a smack for saying it. So we learn to shake our heads, roll our eyes, or start to cry. As we get older, we use terms like “maybe,” “I don’t care,” “I’ll think about it,” “I’ll let you know,” “I’ll get back to you on that,” and other phrases that put off the inevitable until later. But the hint is we’re really saying “no.”

Why can’t we say “no”? Is it a polite way not to show rejection? Are we trying to avoid confrontation, or have we been conditioned not to express our true feelings about something and have been too socially intimidated to take the chance of offending someone?

But who do we really offend when we don’t say “no”? We offend ourselves in not saying an infinitive no because it reduces our principles little by little. One of the greatest powers we possess is our personal authority to believe and think for our own well being. Saying no is a powerful way of being our authentic selves. It is not taking as much from the other as it is keeping much for ourselves.

A dichotomy of parenting is how the word we use to protect our babies becomes a weapon to lessen their sense of worth later in life. For reducing self-esteem is clearly not the intent of catching Little Johnnie or Susie just before they touch the hot stove or run into the street. There is power in the word no, but having the strength to wield it becomes the issue later in life.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Just_Say_No

http://www.selfgrowth.com/articles/tillman6.html

http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/stress-relief/SR00039

Along with being outside in a natural setting, one of my favorite places for meditation and inspiration is in the shower. When I am in the shower, I feel the most vulnerable but also the most secure. There I feel closer to God than almost anywhere else.

The fall of the hot water cascading over my skin makes me feel united with one of the most powerful forces in creation while giving me feelings of authority and humbleness. In the shower is where I often go to cry, to celebrate, to mourn, to laugh, to be a child again…if only for those precious minutes.

Water has always fascinated me as a symbol and manifestation of God’s spirit and supremacy. Even in its destructive wake of flood and crashing waves, there is a sense of dominion without limitations. And that power fortifies my own desire for freedom and control when it and I meld as one in the shower. The greatness of the water is both within and without me.

Showering has become something more than an expected and routine behavior or a daily ritual to me. It often takes on a sacred overtone. In its deluge I am touched, cleansed, baptized, blessed, refreshed and renewed. My tears add to its volume, my soul is stirred, and I am cuddled like a child by its embrace. The spirit of God is present in its unrivaled perfection and that lets me know I’m not alone.

Each magnificent drop of water is a world unto itself and a part of the whole. The joy of showers remind me that I am also as one with creation’s beauty and a receiver of its wonderful blessings.

Dear Commenters:

This is a subject I wish I did not have to address, but I am receiving too many comments that are repetitions of the same thing, in other words…SPAM! I truly appreciate the attention I am receiving for my work, but trying to weed through all the spam is really distracting from continuing with providing articles. I try to read each comment and personally respond to quite a few, but the task has become quite tedious of late.

I know there are many who use translators and perhaps it is easier to make one good comment and use it throughout, but I also use translators to respond and it doesn’t take that long to do. For many of the articles, lively discussion has become impossible because of the number of comments that are not relevant to the topic of the post.

This plea is not to stop or reduce the number of wonderful comments I receive, but offered in the interest of other readers who are making comments about the number of redundant comments. So I am asking that you please continue to let me hear from you, but reduce your self-promotion and advertising, and as of 1/21/2011, any repeated comments and those which do not address a specific subject will be marked as spam and deleted.

Please help me make this site a beneficial one for everyone who reads it.

Thank you, Paris

There are certain strengths or abilities that human beings possess. The most well-known or discussed is the power of love. But recently we are seeing the negative results of another power that is becoming more infamous in everyday life. That power is influence.

Influence is the ability to manipulate another person or persons into doing or carrying out one’s desires. These desires may be positive or negative. For example, you may want someone to attend an event with you, so you provide the tickets and transportation. Or, in the case of negative exploitations, someone may carry out violence at the suggestion of another person whom they may recognize as an authority figure; or they will do something to get the attention of someone whom they perceive as being stronger or more powerful than themselves.

Unfortunately, incidences of violence from school yard bullying to political assassinations are growing in number, and many people are falling under the power of influence. This relinquishing of one’s will may cause them to also become a victim of the circumstances themselves. Too often the bully or victimizer has low self-esteem or could be suffering from some kind of emotional or mental defect.

The power of influence is used, however, by all of us against each other in order to have our way or to get the things we want; i.e. wives to husbands, and vice versa; children to parents, and vice versa; friends to each other; employees to employers, and vice versa; governments to other governments; and on and on. In one of my previous blogs, “Choose your battles,“ I enumerated several ways we can avoid becoming embroiled in conflicts by restraining our desire, or influence, to have authority or control in the situation.

We are constantly in battles of trying to influence our way through life; most often with little negative effect. But when influence is used to carry out schemes causing harm to another, should the person wielding the influence be held as accountable as the perpetrator? By recognizing that the power of influence is at work in our day-to-day interactions, we may be able to consider our motives first  before we try to get someone to do what we want. This self-examination will reduce our responsibility for injury or harm to another. Connecting compassion to the power of influence is a fundamental way.

For the last four or five years I’ve been writing blogs and doing social networking and have joined or connected to over 300 internet groups. When I Google my name, I’m surprised at the things that pop up and am amazed at how far my name and messages have reached. This is not to thump my own chest, rather to set the stage for something which never ceases to amaze me. I wonder and am surprised when others comment on how strong they consider me to be.

My readers’ perceptions make me wonder to what exactly is that strength attributed? Is it the time I’ve spent at the keyboard pecking away; or it is starting, deleting, uploading and downloading pictures and videos? Is it using the Thesaurus to express the same words in different ways to vary my content; or is it reading and re-reading, checking the spell-checked text to be sure I’ve caught all the errors? Is it arranging, rearranging, placing and displacing sentences, clauses, phrases, titles, paragraphs, punctuation marks, or whole topics?

Is it the subject matter I write about; the opinions I confer, the arguments in which I take a determined stand, or the information about my experiences I choose to share? Or could it be my resolve to write even when I wonder if what I am saying is making a difference?

I have come to accept that my being strong is not a power that I particularly possess. But my strength comes from the perception of my readers. If those who read my articles can derive some measure of understanding, enlightenment and inspiration, I believe they are made stronger. Their strength is then reflected back to me in encouraging comments they send which in turn makes me stronger.

Without receiving responses, the posts I write are merely me consuming time and effort. Instead they have become more than expressions of my point of view and a sharing of my life’s journey. Our ongoing communications have become a source of reciprocal strength, and I wish to thank all of my readers for making me strong.

Lately I have been getting lots of comments calling me “man.” I guess because I’ve carried a male name, Paris, all my life I forget that people naturally assume that I am male. That’s why I though I should post my picture so that you could put the face to the name and the messages.

I am a great-grandmother of 4, grandmother of 14 and mother of 3 surviving sons and 2 daughters. I am retired, but has recently published a book for children, The First Trip, and designed the characters into rag dolls called “Oodles,” the first one to be introduced is Bubba Oodle. Writing is one of my favorite things to do, so I enjoy writing this blog and hearing from my readers.

I appreciate so much all the wonderful comments, and those slightly left of wonderful (LOL). I learn something about myself from the way that you all see me and the thoughts you share.

It is good to know that my work has played a part in the advancement, enlightenment, and encouragement of so many. I try to give my honest opinion, while being mindful of the opinions of others, and respecting the fact that we may not always agree.

Now that we’ve come to the end of another successful year, I want to wish everyone Happy Holidays and God bless. Please continue to follow my work, and to let me hear from you. Take care, Paris

“Still You’re Gone” was the title of a song written by my oldest son, Tracy Eugene Tompkins, and given to me a year before he passed away in 2004. Today I am remembering Tracy with so much love, and just a little weepy. He wouldn’t want me to sit around all day crying over him.

He was not that kind of guy, you know. Tracy was 41 when the brain aneurysm struck him down. I had talked to him the day before because we were to go shopping for supplies for my new business I was so excited about.

After nearly 12 years, it seemed that I was finally on my way with my Oodleville books for children and the character Oodle Dolls I had designed for them. Tracy was excited also, and took the picture of me holding my first contract, calling me an “author” for the first time. That had been one of my most joyous days.

So I was planning to bring Tracy up to speed on all I had done, and one day leave it all in his most creative and capable hands. He was always coming up with ideas of his own, from writing music, doing art, writing science fiction, clay animation, and international gaming. His creative mind knew no limits.

Neither did his heart. He accepted everyone, no matter their status, race, class or sexual preferences. Tracy could and would find something of value in their spirits and they could be friends. He was the father of 2 beautiful girls, Christina and Samantha, and the grandfather of one at that time, now there are 3.

It is strange how death takes away so much, and leaves such torturous pain, but also leaves wisps of memory, and sprinkles of joy. Today I am focusing on it all.