Tribute to Ray Khan

Author’s Note: The following contains some references to drugs and rehab, mental health issues, sometimes even guardianship abuse. Reader discretion is advised. Also, this is a sort of tributary note to Raymond Khan, a young man I knew from way back in 2006, both of us were jailed, sort of, in rehab. LaAmistad should be ashamed of itself for its ableist and controlling approach to rehabilitating substance and non substance use peoples with mental illness. You put up a big fight with me about relationships, and I need to be able to forge connections, not forget them. I want to say a few words I should’ve said to Ray, and I want him to know that things are going good, but without further adieu, here it is.

Dear Ray,

Things have been crazy since you last saw me. I think about you sometimes, although the times I thought of you were very hard ones. When I thought of how you almost lost yourself to crystal meth, how you almost killed yourself a few times, maybe more, my heart went and stopped in the middle of everything. Ray, you really are someone I cared about in 2006, and yet a piece of you stays with me every day. I have at least a few things on my mind I wanted to straighten up with you.

First, I should have never been forced to end relationships and not forge a connection with you. I loved you, and what any nurse or doctor should know is that forging connections helps and stabilizes an individual’s treatment by a long shot. Undoing all the person’s health and well being by disconnecting them from everybody in the world doesn’t help. Ray, I loved you dearly, but I tell you, I have a partner and a good life ahead of me. The guardianship’s been discharged, and you can tell everybody that you and I could have been freed from this had Florida not fucked up and gotten me in trouble at seventeen, and nobody believed that my mother was capable of slapping me in the face. I would love to charge my mom with assault if she ever pulls shit like this again, but no, I won’t. Why? Because there’s. more stuff she did that I could tell you and you wouldn’t believe me anyway.

The guardianship was abusive, I had to stay in loveless or unromantic relationships because of the possibility of being abused at home. Orien, a young man I knew in high school and who’s grown now, will not have anything to do with me. Trust me, not that way. We’re friends again on FB, but trust me on this, my parents deserve a lawsuit and jailtime for committing probate fraud. I didn’t even know what the fuck probate was, and trust me, you would think I was nuts if I told you. Guardianship is evil, it destroys families, it tears apart lives. It did so to me, and did you hear about Britney Spears? She’s out of Conservatorship.

Ray, I hope you are there somewhere in the ashes of my existence, dancing on a cloud, or perhaps you’re alive on Earth somewhere far beyond. Canada? Maybe. But have you watched what’s going on in America lately? Please tell me you’re not cooped up in some prison cell lamenting on drugs, being on drugs, etc. I wanted you to be strong and try and be someone that you can be, the best version of yourself. I cried today thinking of the stuff I should have said to you, but it got worse. When we were in the so called catapult ceremony, the one where we pass the coin and say our goodbyes to the people leaving the treatment center, I was a wreck. You remember right? I told you I’d be the lead actress in your movies, whatever they were to be. Ray, I tell you, I felt the whole time that I was not the lead actress in my own story, not until recently. Ray, if I could only tell you that Clayton Jacobs, the man I call my boyfriend, is the best supporting actor in my story. HE gets the Oscar nod and perhaps he wins Best Supporting Actor in. my personal story. Why? Because Clayton heard your name and your story from my lips, and he understands greatly. Clayton has held me while I cried, kissed me when I was sad or happy, and has made love to me through all kinds of stuff. We’d always had each other’s backs, even through some rough stuff we both had to deal with. Ray, we’re coming up on some currents in our lives, Clayton and myself, and trust me, I am always the lead actress in my personal story now. I changed my bank account, I changed my direct deposit amounts and info on it, and my dad will soon have to close the account. I’m not going to have him sit there and say he can have his name on my account, which he will no longer do. My mother and dad think they can tell me who to be with, but because the guardianship was abusive, I had it discharged. My parents woke up only halfway. They won’t define the guardianship as abusive, wrong, and fraudulent. Probate fraud should and will always be one day against the law, but I want guardianship to be a federal goddamn crime. Why? Because it tears apart families, rips people’s lives to shreds, and for disabled women, sometimes we have to sterilize because in the minds of the government, we are less than, inferior. Ray, I’m sorry to say you weren’t the love of my life, and I didn’t exactly get the chance to give you the flower of my virginity. I don’t care. What virginity?

It started with a Dallas, Texas convention I was coerced into attending by the center in Littleton, Colorado Center for the Blind, and they required everybody to fly to Texas for this stupid conference while you had National Federation of the Blind (NFB) people sitting there praising the god of their own, Kenneth Jernigan. It was a motley crew of idolatry, sexual misconduct, and more. I lost my virginity to Deq Ahmed and Mosamil Yahya or someone like that, but we’ve had to mull over such things. Clayton would never have cared, at least, that I had to break it off with Deq Ahmed because his clan and family didn’t approve of him marrying a blind American woman. I would have argued that the clan had no right to Deq because of blindness and because such honor is antique. No, the word here is antiquated. I would suggest at a clan meeting that we move forward and modernize and recognize the right to choose one’s own mate. Period, point blank, end of story!

Ray, when I was with a man named Jason, the whole time things just didn’t work. Jason was abusive, and he was pro on the case of my guardianship, he wanted to say I needed it. What a very inglorious bastard. He liked the reactions of folks when he said, “You’ve signed your death warrant for being friends with Beth Taurasi.” I call bullshit. Death warrants are for murderers, Aileen Wuornos included, or perhaps Ted Bundy. But not me, I didn’t kill anyone, I didn’t do it, and if I did, it was an accident. I have no capacity to see where I’m aiming that stupid gun, and where I’m going to aim it is anyone’s guess. Jason had almost killed my friend Trenton’s current girlfriend, and furthermore, Jason wishes all his exes dead. Oh wait, Jennifer died. I can’t believe she did, and that bastard wants me to forgive him? I can’t forgive myself for even loving the guy. But thinking back, Jason was a big turning point into why I hate almost 80% of guys, not all guys, but I kinda don’t like a lot of them. IF a guy suggests that a woman’s place is beneath him, where she submits, etc, he isn’t for me.

When I dated Blake, things got hairy. His mom said I was “psycho” and should not date Blake. Blake lost his brother to gun violence, of course, but I’m not a fan of the woman who did it, although in some ways gun control might have stopped the murderer from ending the brother’s life, and the mother blames me? She didn’t have to blame me, she didn’t have to justify Clara Deitz dating Blake for the short time she did, and the impression was fake. All of it, fake. Clara should not have broken Blake’s heart in front of the world, and she did. Blake I wish as punishment should “take a wife of whoredom” as in the Bible, Gomer was a whore who went with Hosea, her husband, even when she was being bargained for and such. Hosea brought her back, but they had two kids together, I forget the names. But if Blake wants to try and mess my life up he can’t. Our friendship is rocky because of his mother’s prejudice against psychological diagnostics, and she doesn’t realize I have PTSD. Not quite as bad as a guy Blake knows, but not as bad as my cousin, Robert Zemcik, a veteran in the army who’s survived many many occasions I can’t go into. Zemcik’s experiences in the army should not be forgotten, and neither should those of other vets, Afghanistan and Iraq war vets included. I donated money to the wounded Warrior Project years after Blake’s breakup, but alas, I don’t know where it all went.

Trenton is my current latest ex, after Joey who was a bad boy. Joey tried to mess with me, tried to egg me on, and a troll tried to fuck with me while I was just getting started with Trenton. I was frequently accused of whoring around, told to get a proper marriage, all that. But now, Clayton is probably the only man I could say is doing it right. I can’t believe he would know me for five years, would let me into his life, would hold me the way he did, and would make love to me the way he did. Ray, if you only saw my face when I found Clay at the airport, I was overjoyed. He was sitting there waiting for me, and I ran forward to give him a big giant hug. I wanted to love him right there. We got back to his place, and lo and behold, his hips got close to mine, and his face. Oh, his beautiful face. Ray, Clayton can’t see as I don’t, but trust me on this, he is a good man. Clayton treats me like a beautiful queen, honors me the way men should honor the women in their lives, and in turn, I want to do nothing more than honor him. Like in Gladiator, I will honor Clayton, and because he’s honored me, I will do what is right. I’m behind him 100% of the time, and trust me, he is for me as well. Ray, if you only knew.

IF you only knew the way things were back in the day. I still can’t get a job, can’t do things without verification, oh so they wanna believe I’m not who I say I am? Bullshit. I am Beth, the girl you once knew, and I hope you will always remember me. I hope you will remember me, and it is because I remember you that I can’t forget. I can’t forget the time we were walking around, and we kissed somewhere outside of staff eyes. All this and other bullshit, I just wanted to kiss you again. YOu really do have a lot to offer someone, and I hope you found a beautiful pair of lips to kiss, arms that will hold you, and a pair of eyes to stare into. My eyes, god forsake me, are blind. You never understood. You never wanted these eyes. These eyes cried for you, and my heart beats every day regretfully for all the times you had to stay ten feet away. I’m done, I’m done trying to cry over this spilled milk. I love you dearly. I don’t know what to say. But Clayton is my true love, not you, because you don’t seem to get it. Ray, my pain is great, but my heart soldiered on for years knowing you were out there somewhere.

Ray, if there’s one thing I should have said to you, it was this. Clayton is the right man for this undertaking of loving me because he’s blind, has the same eye condition, and we’re on the run with all the love we have in our hearts. We love one another with such passion it isn’t funny. Ray, contact me if you dare. If you read this, you will be rewarded for your trouble. The water of time may stand between us, but for Clayton, he has ferried himself over the waters of space to me, and has offered me his heart. Ray, this truly isn’t goodbye, not forever. It is a new beginning. Perhaps you will understand if you see this blog and understand what kind of person I am.

Sincerely,

Beth Taurasi

Another Christian school in Colorado … Valor Is Not Valor so Shut it Down

Dear readers,

I’d like to let you all know there is a disturbing trend going on in Christian and Catholic schools. A pair of teachers at a Colorado school called Valor Christian were asked to resign, and it was due to their being in relationships that went against the so called teachings at this school. Many LGBTQI+ students get disrespected and discriminated against, called the child’s assigned gender pronouns at birth, not the ones they express and identify as. This school must understand that they’re not alone.

There is more than one incident where a school banned the rainbow symbol, tried to be the God and Gender police, and their strict uniform dress codes scream, “Rape culture.” St. Teresa’s School could become one of many Christian and Catholic schools not affirming the lives of transgender students, gay students, and many more. The students who demonstrated outside Valor Christian, as I will say, have my blessing. You don’t even need the blessing of any particular person to know that Christian schools are abusing your tax dollars to abuse gay students. The father god complex that one woman historian talks about in her book Who Cooked the Last Supper is so present that it has the gall to abuse anyone who doesn’t worship this so called God the Father.

As a Christian school alum, I want to condemn and deplore all Christian private schools who abuse gay kids. IF you don’t call my child my daugher, not biological son, I will do what is necessary to shut down your school. IF you don’t respect my daughter’s or son’s or my child’s homosexual or gender fluid relationships, I will shut down the school. The bigotry and my buck stops here.

Beth

My UU Adventures Volume 1: Safer Spaces In Many Places

Dear readers,

Yes, yes, you expected a Brave New World completion or something, but ain’t happenin’ now so just relax. I want to talk about my religious ventures, something I’m really happy about just happened. And it all began with a search on Google, god if I ever mention that again, I don’t know where I’ll be next day.

I want to first thank Lavender, one of my good friends, who lovingly refers to me as Spiralhead. She was the one who got me thinking in the UU direction, and her dad, Will, and his sband the Tribe, did some amazing stuff. I’m not gonna lie. But then, I decided to see if such a loving community of good beloved community could be found in my backyard. It began with me searching for a minister who would be willing to put together a wedding ceremony for me and Trenton, and we couldn’t do a wedding in a venue, but in that small apartment, we shared something incredible. So we had a small ceremony, a hybrid due to covid, in our apartment officiated by Jenny, who was intern minister for Jefferson Unitarian Church. Yes, it’s a UU church, and I found that my buddies in this church are amazing and my anxiety always seems to sneak up on me, but this church seems to understand that I can make decisions, including marriage. They also said that I had agency, and it’s in their actions more than their words. I want to say that Reverend Wendy was amazing in telling me where to go to get the care I need, but right now, I’m savoring the thought of Jenny doing bigger things in ministry. She has, as of this writing, yet to send me a big fluffy paper invite, well a digital fluffy invite, to her ordination ceremony. And guess what? This will be a lot more awesome than witnessing Holy Orders, which for those living under rocks, is a Catholic priest’s ordination ceremony where they take vows and drink to the bishop’s obedience and all that crap. I have no idea but I like the UU thing a lot better than the Catholic thing. Priests in Catholic churches are chosen by a fire and brimstone God and a bishop, and only males can make decisions. But in the UU church, women are leading, having agency, and protecting their decisions and decision making powers. Yes, I drink pop, but no, I don’t want a guardian policing purchases and food, and they acknowledge that I should have agency over my life, and that is a huge thing for me. I want to have children, this church promises they’ll bless the kids. The church will educate them in good religious teachings, positive and neutral teachings about everything, and allow them agency over whether to become a minister. My future daughters will have the ability to dream big, they will say, “Mommy, I want to be a minister in a church.” I will be the one saying, “You can do that, you have all the guts to do it. So get out and make it happen, girl.” I will say this to my daughter with a smile on my face, whether she’s six or sixteen. I will never let go, ever, of the thought of women leading. Reverend Wendy is amazing, and she is the best. I’ve been thinking about all the good stuff, the bad stuff, and the ugly stuff I’ve learnt over the years. And honestly, I don’t believe in just one male fire and brimstone God and his minions sitting on a throne, making all the decisions over a woman’s body. I like Jesus, I believe in his true teachings, but the people? Forget that. I can’t go to a so called Christian church, and I want to be able to raise a positively respectful family from the beginning. Thank you all for reading.

Beth

%d bloggers like this: