This is so heartbraking!
In my post of October 2, 2014, I included the story of Reyhaneh Jabbari, a young Iranian woman who had been found guilty of murdering the man who attempted to rape her at the age of 19. At that time she had received a temporary reprieve from her execution and the world was hoping that she would be spared. Unfortunately she was hanged on Saturday, October 25, 2014 despite a global online petition and calls from Amnesty International and the United Nations to halt the execution.
The day after her executions, the National Council of the Resistance of Iran posted this English translation of Ms Jabbari’s last touching message to her mother in April. Even then she was not thinking of how to help herself, but how she could help others – including after her death.
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She was a university student whose dreams of becoming a high-school teacher came to a brutal end one weekend night last month. She stepped in to protect two teenage girls from harassment by three men at a fast food restaurant in central Germany, enraging the girls’ male tormenters. One of the men has reportedly confessed to striking the young woman in the restaurant’s parking lot after confronting her when she left the restaurant. She crumpled to the ground and stopped moving.
22-year-old Tuğçe Albayrak didn’t hesitate to run to the aid of two young girls aged 13 and 16 who were crying out for help, but her courageous act cost her her life She fell into a coma following the attack two weeks ago and, on her 23rd birthday last Friday, her parents made the difficult decision to turn off her life support when doctors told them their precious daughter would…
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When my daughter Nichole was born, her diagnosis of Down syndrome hung over me like a heavy, wet blanket. It clung to me, robbing me from any feelings of love. My motherly instinct was nowhere to be found. I went through the motions of holding and nursing her because I had to, not because I wanted to. I cried. I cried several times a day. There was much fear in the unknown with countless questions about her future, and how her diagnosis would affect our family.
Down syndrome. I knew some things about Down syndrome back then, like the word that could be used to describe my daughter. The R-word. Retarded.
I knew that someday, someone at her school might say to her, “Hey you retard!” with many laughs to follow such a comment. Or maybe it would be used to explain her…
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Darius and Johntel have a lot in common.
They are both talented high school seniors. They both love basketball. They are both captains of their respective high school basketball teams.
But on one Saturday night in February, they were forever linked in the minds of all who were present for a mutual act of courage,
sportsmanship and respect.
The remarkable moment came during a game between Darius’s small
town Illinois team and Johntel’s big city team in Wisconsin — a game
that almost wasn’t played.
Just hours before tip-off Johntel’s mother lost her five-year battle with cervical cancer.
Her death was sudden and devastating to all who knew her, and
Johntel’s coach wanted to cancel the game. But Johntel insisted that
the game should be played, and so with heavy hearts his teammates
prepared to honor their captain’s wishes and to play — and hopefully
win — without him.
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We all know that violence is wrong and should not be used but we also know that it occurs quite frequently in our world. I want to discuss violence when protesting and campaigning for change.
Why do people feel the need to turn to violence when protesting on the streets? The fact is, those issues which run right through the core of our society are things which will not change through a gentle request to those in power. It is a sad but true and undemocratic fact. High unemployment, low wages, growing divisions between the rich and poor, racism and so on; these things are issues that those who hold power are not really willing to do anything about. This may be because it is advantageous to their position, to their friends or capitalism itself.
So is violence the way forward? No, but I think we have to acknowledge that…
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Hi, my name is Shayla and I’m the daughter of an alcoholic. I guess from what my ma told me he had been an alcoholic since he was 16, but she married him anyway when he was 19. They immediately had my brother and I. He worked so he was what you call a “functioning alcoholic”. My first memories of my da are of him hitting my mother. He was mean to her. He was always hitting her. He was always yelling at us and at her. He never wanted to go out and do anything. He only cared about his beer and drinking. He cheated on my mother a lot also. I hated him. I felt like I didn’t even have a father. One night he told my ma he met a rich beautiful girl in the city and he was leaving her and they fought. I couldn’t…
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