I know — most of us take this right (or privilige, though that’s not really the point of this post) for granted.  As children, we went to elementary school.  It was expected.

As teens, we went to high school.  Again, with the expectations.

As adults, many of us went on to college.

Bottom line, we received education.   Call it good, or bad, at least we had the opportunity.  Not so for girls in the Middle East.  A few headlines to underline my point:
IRAQ: Number of girls attending school dropping
Iraq: Girls Denied Education
Al-Qaeda plan to destroy girls’ school in Tarmiyah thwarted

Bombs built into schools to punish girls for learning.  Young women gunned down as they eagerly walk to school in hopes of expanding their minds.  Young girls raped as punishment for daring to dream.

I’ve been aware of this phenomena (sic) for a while but the reports have becoming more frequent as of late so as of late, I’ve become more sick to my stomach when I read this stuff.  Sitting here in the U.S., my own precious daughter soaking up her college education with zeal, I can’t help but want the same for all women.  I want it badly enough that I scoured the internet yesterday, looking for an organization to contribute either money or time to… none exist.  Oh sure, there’s Unicef.  But their focus seems to be predominately in Africa, when it comes to education.  Believe me, I want young African women to have education access as well… but I’m not reading/hearing much about their very lives being threatened for trying.  It’s more a case of resources being available.

I’m safely ensconced at a University where I have some terrifically talented young woman under my tutelage, yet there’s no way to ensure these rights apply to a region of the world where my tax dollars are going and where my friend’s sons, daughters, husbands and wives are putting their lives on the line.  I’m sorry, but I find that unacceptable.  What the hell are we fighting for if not to ensure liberty for all, especially in the form of learning?

If I’m wrong, and there is an organization out there, someone please — let me know.

Last week’s little anti-social media experiment worked.  I generated a few healthy, dense pages.  So new rules @ Chez Diana:  On days I wear my instructor hat, yes — go, social media!  Make contact!  Tweet!  Blog!  Facebook!  LJ!

On days I wear my writer hat…  GONE FISHING.

Now where did I put my tackle box.

Cya Sunday night.

Don’t get me wrong — I love Live Journal.  I love Facebook.  Twitter makes me giggle.   But my gods, talk about a time sucking setup…

So begins today’s grand experiment.  It’s 1:42pm, all my work and social obligations are fulfilled for the moment so it’s time to “get to” with the writing.  Let’s see how long I last…

13 hours and 2k words later, I’ve tumbled into bed. It’s been a day of enthused writing spurts mixed with equal quantities of dragging my brain, and my fingers on the keyboard, through mud.

I gave up for the night, unable to break through the wall hiding what I’ve been searching for since starting development on this piece: the theme… or to be more specific, the heart and blood, and therefore the purpose of the story. Five minutes of laying in the dark, shutting my mind down, and bam! It came to me.

Thank gods for the voice notes app on my iPhone.

And yeah, a possibly new creative habit for me: hit a wall? Lie down and take a mini nap.

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