We Can Stop Domestic Violence With Parenting

It's just that simple.  Teaching your son and/or daughter not to put their hands on other people can go a long way towards healing lives instead of ruining them.  Now, I'm taking mental health issues out of the equation here.  I'm talking about the natural ability that most of us have to walk away from negative situations.

Yesterday, I got a phone call from someone about a friend of mine whose husband killed her.  I won't dwell on the how and why because it's not relevant to my blog post.  I'll just say this much about her: she was an advocate against domestic violence and even wrote books about it (I reviewed one of them here).  She was someone who was beyond sweet to me and to never be able to hug her again truly hurts.

But, back to the topic at hand.  Society has to do better.  Domestic violence is something we can all have a hand in stopping if we simply take the time to educate.

Men should not be taught that it is never okay to violently put your hands on a woman unless it's a life or death situation.  Either restrain her until you can get to safety or flee the situation.  I've seen domestic abuse up close and personal and I know the affects it can have on not just the victim, but their loved ones as well.  Domestic abuse can be a cycle started by a father who unknowingly teaches his son that it's okay to do it and to his daughter that it's okay to endure it.

Women should be taught that it's never okay to hit men unless it's a life or death situation.  There are some women in society who take advantage of the fact that a man is not supposed to hit them.  This emboldens them into attacking him and daring him to retaliate and risk him possibly being arrested.  Don't do it, ladies.

1. It's not right to hit him knowing that he won't hit back.  
2. Some guys will hit back and they may hit harder than you!

All I pray is that everyone who reads this decides to sit their son/daughter down and stress to them the options that they have other than assault.  I don't care how old they are right now.  Do it!  Let them know the avenues that they can take to avoid trouble.  Don't wait for them to get into the situation, but instead, use preventive maintenance to teach them how to avoid finding themselves there.

• Preach to them how their ego is not as important as doing jail time, spending time in the emergency room or worse, the morgue.  
• Tell them that they can always come home to loved ones.
• Teach them that relationships are never worth risking your life over to try and fix.
• Show them what real love is at home so that they may recognize it as they venture out in life.
• Instill in them that there's no such thing as "it can never happen to me".

I don't care how hard that you try, you can't make someone love you.  I know this for a fact.  Just let them go and choose from one of the other millions who are what you're looking for in a mate.  

I personally know a lot of guys who have hit women and a lot of women who have hit men.  I've personally called each and everyone of them I've spoken to "cowards" to their faces, including relatives.  It's not okay.  Stop waiting until it happens to someone that you love before you take it seriously.  Please teach.  That's all I ask.

XX vs. XY Presents The @CurvyMomager

Welcome to the first installment of "XX vs XY" as Q mixes it up with a female guest blogger!  

This is a new series that you will see every now and then that takes a view point from a woman's perspective and puts it against my viewpoint from a man's perspective.  The guest and I won't necessarily be challenging each other on a topic, but instead will be  discussing it from our points of view.  It could be two totally different angles on the same subject which will display how the genders' minds work.

It should be a lot of fun and I have to thank my first guest for the idea.  I did a "He Said, She Said" with her on her blog site that you can read at the link.  That prompted the idea for me to do the same and start a new series here on Thank, Q.

So, I decided to reciprocate and ask my California (by way of Michigan) counterpart to join me in a discussion about the tragedy in Baltimore that has been all over the news stations.  

Who is this woman I'm speaking of?

She's Robin Peppers-Hunt aka The Curvy Momager.  She has a blog and she does YouTube videos that follow her journey though "singlemommiehood" as she manages the lives of two children while balancing her own.  You can check her out over at www.CurvyMomager.blogspot.com.

So,, without further ado...  Take it away, Robin...

@CurvyMomager

An open letter to Janay Rice...

Dear Janay, you've had a crazy few months. Some of that unfair evaluation from others but most of it because of the ultimate decisions you've made. True, as you stated in your Instagram message to media and the public, "We don't need to be all up in your families business." but look at who came to your rescue after your fiancé Floyd Mayweather'd you in that elevator...a complete stranger. 

So excuse us if we are invested in seeing you getting help for not only you but Ray. As a woman that has been through relationship issues (none as severe as this), I don't point a finger at you but want you to realize that unless you are called out on REAL ish, you will keep blaming the wrong people. Look at the mirror, shifting you paradigm is going to be paramount if you are to put your life together. 

I'm in no way a professional, don't claim to even be a relationship expert.  I just want you to be the one that says, "I'm not accepting less just because someone thinks I should." As for Ray losing something he worked so hard to obtain is not a "nightmare." A "nightmare" is kids that don't eat on a regular basis, people that have limitless potential and waste it, women that don't leave damaging relationships when they know they should. 

Wait...maybe you are right but the "nightmare" is only going to get worse if you ignore what needs to be done. I hope things work out for each of you but you have to accept the public's opinion because truly we are the ones that have your back.

Now it's my turn and I don't even know where to begin. I hope some day that the photo at the very top of the screen will be the norm instead of what ESPN has running on a loop every 12 minutes.  None of this would have happened if Ray would have attempted to restrain his wife instead of hitting her. That is the bottom line. However, since that's not what happened, let me address why the NFL turned on him: Roger Goodell.

The NFL commissioner has allowed Ray Rice to be turned into the poster child for domestic assault. Goodell did so by claiming that he never saw the video from inside the elevator which is hard to believe. The NFL has former FBI employees working for them yet TMZ was able to obtain the video from up under their noses? Yeah, right.

Look, the court of public opinion is stronger than any justice court. Despite Ray and Janay both being charged with what was essentially mutual combat, the people spoke and Goodell responded.  However, he did so without revealing that he didn't think the incident was all that bad until it went public.  Ray Rice wasn't essentially banned for the league for hitting his wife.  He was banned from the league because you saw him hit his wife.

And that hypocrisy is why the NFL has been in a downward spiral with discipline since The Emperor's Goodell's arrival.  That's why a man, who definitely should have been punished, is out of a job while a 3rd player since '98 who killed someone while driving drunk is getting an opportunity to play this season.  Punching a woman is a horrible offense, but it doesn't trump killing someone with your car?

Maybe if TMZ had a video of it then it would.

Next on "XX vs XY" will be Marrie Lobel...

Sometimes the Death Penalty Isn't Enough

I'm normally up on my news, especially sports, but the last couple of weeks have been extremely busy for me.  However, I received a call from The Lady on yesterday afternoon and the news blew my mind.  She told me that running back and future Minnesota Vikings Hall of Famer, Adrian Peterson's son was beaten to death.

I don't know AP or his family, but for about five seconds, I felt a knot in my stomach after hearing the news.  From what I've read online, the mother of AP's son had a boyfriend with prior domestic charges to took his frustrations out on the two year old boy.

I'm not going to get into the decision-making process of the mother.  She has to unfortunately suffer for the rest of her life for dating a known abuser.  I want to talk about the abuser, 27 year old Joseph Patterson.  I realize that he's supposed to be innocent until proven guilty, but I'm jumping the gun on this one.  I think he's guilty.

I don't know if the state where the heinous crime was committed uses the death penalty or not, but sometimes the death penalty isn't enough.  Sure, if you could sentence this guy to die, fry him, bring him back, and fry him again, then I think I'd be for it.  But, since that's impossible, then your only choice is to lock him up for the rest of his life.

That's not good enough either.

I'm sick and tired of it being Open Season on people, especially women and children.  Men were once protectors of their families and now they're exterminating them like common roaches.  It's sickening!  I wanted to throw up when I heard the news today because I can't stand to see a child mistreated, yet along hear of one beaten to death.

If I had things my way, I'd put Joseph Patterson in a jail cell with no A/C or heat and give him just enough food to survive.  From there, I'd allow the child's father, Adrian Peterson, to come in once a year to beat a handcuffed Patterson within an inch of his life.  I would allow AP an opportunity to do that on the anniversary death of his son every year until either he or the Patterson died.

I know it sounds cruel, but it's nothing compared to pulverising a child's body with your fists.  Imagine the pain the child went through.  Babies have no resistance to beatings.  They aren't capable of running away or curling up in the fetal position and surviving the onslaught.  All they can do is cry and suffer.

Why not repay the favor?

Are there upsides to simply beating felony assault prisoners as opposed to giving them the death penalty?

Psycho Dad, Part II

(If you haven't read Part I, then this story will probably not make any sense to you.  So, do yourself a favor and check it out before this one.)

Two years have passed since Part I occurred. I've pretty much lost contact with Mia, but Rachel and I have kept in touch every now and then. I'm sitting at home when the phone rings. "Hello," I answered.

"Hey, Quincy, this is Mia!"

"Wow. Hey, Mia, how have you been?"

"I've been great! Just staying busy in grad school. Speaking of which, I hate to call you out of the blue, but I need something."

"What's up?"

"I'm working on a paper and I need your help." 

Mia used me as a study partner back in the day. Whenever she had a paper to write, I was her critic. I figured it was no big deal to help her out again. However, in the back on my mind, I'm wondering if she's just trying to get back in my good graces after the incident. Is she just trying to lure me back into her life? I continue to ponder this as I get directions to her apartment, hang up the phone and start to get dressed. I give her friend, Rachel, a call just to see if I can pry her for info, but her phone goes to voicemail. I leave her a message that I'm going to Mia's place to help her with homework and hang up. I guess I'm going to give Mia the benefit of the doubt and see if she just wants to explain what happened that night.

I arrive to her complex about 20 minutes later. It's a nice apartment complex and within seconds of getting out of my car, I'm on the 2nd floor and knocking on her door. She answers the door wearing a long t-shirt and I'm unsure at first glance if she has anything underneath them or not. I give her a hug and close the door behind me. Mia walks to the couch and sits with her legs crossed. As her shirt rises up from the way she's sitting, I breathe a sigh of relief as I see that she's wearing short pants underneath. Mia is an attractive girl and I have nothing against making a move on her. However, ever since "the incident," I just don't know how I feel around her. I still feel some pity for her although I'm proud of the fact that she's moved on. She's working on her Masters degree and has a really nice apartment. Then a series of events commenced that changed that very thought within seconds of conceiving it:

 (baby cries)

"You have a kid?" I asked.

"It has been a while since I've spoken to you, hasn't it?" she replied. "Don't worry. His dad will take care of him."

"Mia?" called a man's voice.

My heart dropped as I stood up from the couch. She invited me over to her place and some dude lives there, too? Out of the room he comes and sure enough, it's him. The guy who abused Mia in front of my home just two years prior. He seemed just as shocked to see me as I was to see him. Immediately, I felt uneasy because we both have surprised looks on our faces to see each other again. Mia breaks the tension and speaks up, "Gene, this is Quincy. Quincy, Gene."

(baby cries)

There's about six feet of space separating us, but I choose not to walk over and shake hands. I simply give a head nod and say, "what's up?"

"Not much man," he answered.  "Mia didn't tell me that you were her tutor. I'm not sure how I feel about that."

"Well, she didn't tell me she had a baby by her brother either," I sarcastically replied.

He looked confused for a second and then smiled as an indication that he recognized what I was reminiscing over. "Aw, man, that was like five years ago or something," he started. "We worked through all of that. I overreacted a bit."

"No, it was just a couple of years... 'a bit?'" I said stopping in the middle of my sentence after realizing the absurdity of what he just spewed. "Mia, I'm going to go."

I realize that I'm going to have to get past Gene in order to reach the door. I don't want to agitate him in his own place, but I'm actually the angry one at this point. Not necessarily at him, but at Mia. She married her abuser, had a kid by him (hence the nickname we later gave him as "Psycho Dad") and then invited me over into the same apartment with him? How stupid is that? She had no idea how either one of us would react to seeing each other again. Gene smiled and said, "Dude, you don't have to leave because of me. I ain't going to swing on you or nothing.  You can help her with her paper."

 (baby is still crying) 

At this point, I've sized him up. He weighed about an extra 15-20 lbs. since I saw him last, but he was still a lightweight in my eyes. I walked past him and placed my hand on the door knob, but as I cracked the door, I stopped and turned around. "Gene, man," I started, "I'm not worried about you swinging on me because unlike Mia, I'll swing back. Take care of your crying baby."

The words trailed off of my lips as I closed the door behind. I didn't even stay long enough to see either of their reactions to what I said.  I have a lump in my throat as I hurry to my car not knowing if this nut is coming outside behind me or not. Could I take him? Yes, I honestly think I could have whipped the sleeves off of him. However, I'm not a fighter. It's not anything that I want to do without a legitimate reason. Fights lead to grudges and grudges lead to revenge. I didn't have time to look over my shoulder for the rest of my life. Jackson is way too small of a city to have someone looking for you. However, if he came out of that door and attempted to try me, I was more than ready to jack him up to the highest level of "jackstivity."

As I get to my car, I see Rachel getting out of hers. "I got your voicemail. Is everything okay?," she asked. 

"How come you didn't tell me that fool married that fool?"

"Because she told me not to tell you. She was ashamed. I'm surprised she called you over here with him here without telling you first. She says that he hasn't hit her since that night, but I know he still yells a lot."

"And you believe that he hasn't?"

"No, I don't, but she's my friend, what am I supposed to say? You're lying?"

"Yes, that is exactly what you're supposed to say.  Call me later."

I get into my '91 Geo Prizm and drive out of the complex. My phone starts ringing as I get on the road, but I just let it ring since I know that it's Mia. I never saw her again after that evening. Her and Gene now have two kids and have been married 10+ years.  I ran into Rachel a couple of years ago and from what she told me, Gene is actually a good husband and father now. Not necessarily of his own doing, but nonetheless, that's the case. He was "influenced" to be a better man after an incident at their apartment complex.

A guy accidentally bumped Gene's car with his car in the complex parking lot.  Instead of acting like an adult, Gene flew off the handle on the dude. He got in the man's face and in the process of screaming and cursing, he accidentally spit on the man. The man then threw a right cross that caught Gene just outside of his left eye. The impact of the punch broke Gene's glasses and placed a nice-sized gash right above his left eyebrow. I'm told he still has a scar above that eye to this day.  From what Rachel told me, there were two hits in the fight: the guy hit Gene and Gene hit the ground.

That altercation led to the cops being called and Gene ultimately being ordered to attend anger management classes. Rachel said that those classes really turned him around (or that punch did).  I guess if he had to do it all over again, he never would have gotten in that particular man's face. People with "Semper Fi" bumper stickers on their car tend not to play around when they're threatened.

I only wish he'd been at my crib the night that first incident went down.

Do people deserve a second chance when it comes to domestic abuse?

Psycho Dad, Part I

Most of the stories that I tell are humorous in nature. Well, I must unfortunately give the disclaimer that there's nothing humorous about this post other than maybe the title...

Okay, so here's the scenario: I'm mid-20's, living alone in my own home and I'm single. I had two female associates that I'd known since high school who were dying to see my new place. I figured I'd invite both of them over one Friday night and we'd have a belated house warming party. I had no idea that things would take a turn for the worse...

Mia and Rachel (pronounced ra-shell) arrive at my house around 9 PM. They parked near the street despite room in my driveway. I got ready to ask why they didn't park in the driveway, but since a car was passing by unimpeded, I thought nothing of their decision. My cousin, Jay, and I are playing a little music and having a few drinks by the time they'd arrived. Mia and I have a brief history. We never dated, but did share a kiss once when we were back in high school. We had discussions about me being "her first," but neither one of us seriously pursued that happening. I think she wanted me to take the lead on things, but I never did. I was actually interested in her friend, Rachel, who once gave me a chance to get to know her better a few years later, but I turned it down because she'd recently dated a friend of mine. Now that dude and I are no longer friends, I regret not at least trying.

Anyway, I invite them into my den and pass them something to drink. Both girls are now seniors in college and looking to blow off some steam. As they start dancing in the middle of the room, Jay and I are just sitting back and wondering if we're going to hit the club later that night. That's when I get a knock at my door. "You invite someone, Jay?" I ask.

"Nope," he said with a confused look, "I figured it would just be the four of us."

I walk to the door wondering if it's a neighbor or something although I knew my music wasn't that loud. I get to the door and see a 20-something, 5'9", skinny black dude with glasses. "Hey, can I help you?" I ask.

"Yeah, I'm looking for my sister, Mia," he said.

"Okay, hold on," I say as I close the door and make him wait.

I know that Mia doesn't have a brother. Who is this dude? He has to be a boyfriend or something. As I return back to my den with a confused look, Mia and Rachel turn my direction. "Uh, Mia, your 'brother' is outside" I said.

Mia's face turned as white as a sheet. Rachel looked concerned, too. "Are you going out there?" Rachel asked.

Mia didn't say a word and slowly walked towards the door. "Who is it?" Jay asked me.

I paid him no mind as I walked over to the window to see the interaction between the two as she walked outside. They both walked to his car which was parked near the street. I immediately recognized the car as the same one driving slowly past my house when I invited the ladies inside. Rachel and Jay walk over to the window as well and that's when Rachel leaks the fact that Mia's so-called brother was actually her boyfriend.

I take an immediate sigh of relief that he wasn't the crazy type because he could have easily been upset with me thinking I was after his woman. Luckily, he didn't try anything stupid when I opened the door for him initially. So, as we sit there and watch, just as I started to get bored and think nothing of this boyfriend showing up, it happened...

Dude grabbed Mia by the back of the head and put his finger in her face. "Whoa," started Jay, "dude is getting a bit rowdy out there."

They were standing near the street, so we were unable to hear the conversation. Dude then smacked Mia with an open hand and knocked her down to the street. "Oh, snap!" I said with a stunned look on my face.

"Help her!" Rachel pleaded as she looked at me and Jay.

Jay and I looked at each other as if to ask "which one of us is going out there?"

Before I could respond with "call the police," dude walked back to his car and drove off. Mia gets up and comes back inside. "We need to go," she says to Rachel with tears in her eyes.

Rachel grabs their purses and the ladies both leave without saying a word.

Jay and I both have confused looks on our faces as the door closes behind them. Did we see that correctly? A guy assaults his girlfriend in front of my home and she just leaves? Where was she going? To the police?

I asked Jay if he was going to go out there to help her when Rachel asked. "Only if you were going out there, too," he replied. "I'm not trying to get shot over some BS."

"Yeah, I feel you on that," I started, "because I was just going to call the police. He could have had a weapon in his car."

Now, there's more to this story that I will share at a later date. This wasn't my last meeting with Pscyho Dad. I have to explain where he got his name from, right?

Let me just add that no man should ever put his hands on a woman (or a woman put hers on a man). A man hitting a woman is one of the most cowardly acts on the planet that comes to my mind. If you are unsatisfied with her or something that she did, then leave. It's just that simple, guys. You can't physically force a woman to conform to your wishes/demands... ever.

Part II



What would you have done to assist her without knowing if her boyfriend had a weapon or not in his car?