About me

Saskia

Saskia

As an INTJ personality type, I will not only walk away but also have a strong compulsion to speak out, regardless of authority or social convention. This is likely why INTJ’s are only 3% of the population; someone is always really pissed off at them…

My mother was raised on a farm with a very large Catholic family in Iowa. Her mother had been orphaned after her Czech parents died in a prairie fire. She and her siblings were sent to live with different families in town. Her father’s family were German Lutheran.

My Dutch Lutheran father was raised in a Catholic orphanage in New York after his mother died when he was very young. I’m told his father has children from other families since. He went to college on a La Cross scholarship, entered the Air Force and worked as an aeronautical engineer.

My parents met in California where my mother was living and my father. She followed him back to New York and I was born in New Jersey in 1962. They never married.

My mother did her duty in raising me but was bitter my father had never contributed support in raising me despite having the means to do so, because he didn’t want her to have the money. In the rare conversations I’ve had with him, he’s expressed contempt for her unsophistication. Is it sophisticated for a street smart, college educated, military man from New York to have failed to use contraception and neglect the resulting offspring?

I knew that he was my father but I don’t recall any affection between us. The last time I saw him, police were escorting him out of our apartment after he’d tried to strangle my mother with a telephone cord in front of me. My mother left him and moved us to Southern California. He lives continues to live in New York with his Jewish wife and son, who’ve I’ve never met or spoken to.

During a road trip along the East Coast in 2011, I attempted to meet him but he deferred to his wife and the request was declined.

Though my parents both are emotionally indifferent to me, my mother is very devoted to my son and even my father contacted him, introducing himself as his grandfather when my son answered the phone.

Prior to marrying a alcoholic Hispanic Catholic when I was 8, my mother was barely able to support us and we moved constantly. Quality child care was hit or miss. There were nice religious people, mean religious people, pot smoking flower children and drunks. By the time I was 13 I’d been abused by 4 different men.

My mother was a Liberal democrat prone to anti-religion rants. My lessons in values were delivered via television.  From watching a segment on bears on the Mutual of Omaha nature series on television I’d determined that in the natural world, men and women weren’t suppose to live to gether they were suppose to mate and part ways. Keeping them around was bad for children…

After repeatedly running away from home, at 13 I was placed in a reform school for two years run by the Convent of the Good Shepard in Los Angeles on Arlington between Pico and Venice. It’s since been closed and demolished and the sisters went into the Domestic Violence business.

Although they no longer provided laundry services for the community when I was there were remnants from a time when this institution operated much like those portrayed in the movie, The Magdalene Sisters. Even though the seven dorms all had their own washer and dryers, there were lots of wicker laundry baskets, large canvas laundry bins on wheels, 1950’s style cotton dress uniforms in four pastel colors with pleated skirts and dark green one piece gym suits. The education was strictly remedial.

Most of the 150 girls were place there by the courts for truancy and petty crimes. A about a dozen of us were runaways. Only two of us were placed directly by families. Most were Hispanic with gang affiliations who’d been in and out of foster homes and juvenile hall. They was a shocking amount of animosity between second generation Hispanic and immigrants. A young 13 year old girl, Maria, from the shanty towns of Tijuana was always in tears.

Within six months of running away from the reform school I became pregnant with my son. His father was of Lutheran French descent was 34 and had grown up in a trailer in Minnesota.When he was eleven years old his step-father committed suicide and he was tasked with the clean up. As a young man he rode with the Sun Downers motorcycle gang until an accident claimed his leg. He was married with three children when I met him in Utah working as a draftsman. I left when I realized I was pregnant and returned to California.

I migrated to Santa Cruz because people told me that’s were pregnant teenagers went. Renting rooms in communal households, I was introduced to the women’s community and second wave feminism. I had poor coping skill and wanted my son to grow up surrounded in a strong family free of indoctrination from the ‘patriarchy’ so that he would view women more kindly and not be inclined to abandon them.

In 1978 I bore a son in San Francisco. I gave my son up for adoption to a lesbian couple who raised him for first 3 years of his life. At the time I met them they had been involved in the making of the movie The Word is Out. However, they later the split and were both collecting government benefits and growing pot. Not not the better life I’d hoped for my son. I reclaimed him in 1982.

By this time I’d moved beyond hating the patriarch, but was not able to get help learning to cope. Therapists wanted me to embrace victim ideology but I didn’t see my son’s father as a monster and myself as a victim. I saw our families as victims of poverty. If I’d been raised properly I would likely not have been hanging out with an older man getting stoned. As a result, I was person non grata in therapy groups.

As teenager, I’d watched with horror, news stories on television of border communities closing clinics and emergency rooms because they were being overwhelmed by immigrants coming across the border to have babies so they’d qualify for citizenship and benefits. Yet, I still voted for every bleeding heart cause including immigrant friendly legislation, believing that it was ” the right thing to do” despite the cost to my family of having to pay for private schools because the public schools were failing and unsafe and loss of jobs to outsourcing and in-sourcing.

At the same time we were  bombarded with messages about the environmental conservation and population control. After my first son, I used birth control and minimized my consumption and recycled whenever possible.

Messages of peace and love from the 60’s helped me weather the occasional racial hostilities that were sure to wane with time. However they never waned. Like everyone else, I believed that everything would work itself out. Ethnic groups would still more or less mostly prefer to do their own thing but that we wouldn’t be hostile towards each other.

In the 1990’s family planning had not resulted in stabilized population and higher quality of life, but instead had created a vacuum filled by a torrent of immigration. Unchecked immigration is undermining the environment, workforce, public education and criminal justice system. Furthermore the new immigrants are hostile towards the white population.

Yet, I continued to vote ‘progressively’ still having faith that it would all work out for the best.

My politics shifted towards conservative democrat after I entered Sonoma State University in my thirties and earned a degree in Anthropology with a focus on Behavioral Evolution. Being a Germanic looking white with pale blue eyes, I have always drawn intense attention from the diversity groups. Men who pursue and are hostile when told no. Females who are passive aggressive.  In biology, I found that I could safely talk about these issues without having to discuss race.

My new understanding of human behavior also taught me that being conservative wasn’t about being mean, it was about being responsible and that by being responsible one would more likely accumulate resources to be generous.

Research on reciprocal altruism taught me that it was not only okay for me to say no if I wasn’t getting my needs met but healthy and functional. Altruism was not about being a doormat. Indiscriminate altruism does not lead to more altruism, it diminishes it.

Family and friends who demand empathy but who are indifferent to me, I decided are not true alliances, but acquaintances and should not to be mistaken for anything more. My education had allowed me to turn from away without guilt the progressive propaganda that expected me to thought police, set examples, affirm and celebrate the openness for the sake of openness that is leading the country to-hell-in-a-hand-basket.

In 2008, for the first time I voted for a Republican. Not because I liked the candidate but because I was no longer going to support the vipers I’d nourished.

 

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