Hula festival is in about 15 days! 😱
Am I ready? Nope nope NOPE.
A lot has happened in my life. The school decided a few things. One is that they aren’t going to do anything about the guy who fingered my vagina. And I know this is irrational, but I’m twice as angry because dis guy is UGLY. I mean like some people with ugly faces got a beautiful soul but no this guy is straight through to the heart no redeeming qualities. I’m biased but still! Like if I was gonna have to go through that, why should I suffer more at the memory of it not even being a guy I was remotely attracted to?
And now I’m being encouraged to file a police report and I don’t know what to do. I mean. The school didn’t take me seriously. We had evidence. Solid evidence that the guy lied in his testimony about the assault back to back. But apparently just having solid evidence that he lied wasn’t enough to merit further action.
The school 3rd party isn’t doing anything either.
I feel helpless.
It’s how you feel when a man forces you to have sex with him, particularly when he’s in a position of authority and respect, and he decides you are his for the taking. That dynamic is pretty universal but there is something about rape that is so different. I mean I do enjoy it when men pursue me, but I don’t want them to kiss me or grope at my vagina unless I’m in a relationship with them. Is that really such an unreasonable request? I didn’t think so.
Knowing that this guy was engaged. Knowing that he targeted me because of my mental illness and the rumors that bitch Theresa was spreading for the past year. Knowing that I was set up… It is so different when rape is not random. I would hazard to guess that most rape isn’t random. It’s our family members, church leaders, uncles, aunts, people who are just close enough to not be guarded against.
I went through a major suicidal funk with what happened with this guy and it got triggered again when I found out the bad news. I was so angry because it’s like for him this never happened but for me I get a vaginal infection and that’s just physical. The psychological trauma that happens to someone who has PTSD and then when they get another major trauma… I’m barely holdin it together.
I nearly dropped out of school because of this but I have no future without a degree but I also have no future being this disabled all the time. This is no way to live. 😥
And then you add in the fact that BYUH refuses to accommodate a service dog. They want me to move to TVA, married student housing, which means that I will be paying the same rent as a 2 income student household. So my rent will be 4 times what I pay off campus. How can I afford that?! Someone with a husband and a job and a family back home helping can barely afford their housing! How can a single 21 yr old who can’t hold a job because of a severe disability, be able to pay not just for the dog, but pay 4 times what everyone else is required to- because she has a disability?! It’s illegal but over here that doesn’t seem to matter! We like rapists over here, we let them stay and finish school. But oh, a student with serious PTSD depression and a series of traumas that were woefully mismanaged by us, oh no. Let’s make her pay extra money for being sick.
What kind of…
Anyways as far as me. I’m super excited about an upcoming hula festival and I’ve been working on touching up the numbers we are doing for the performance. I went to a beach up north shore because one of our hula is about the waves and a beach up there. Kahikilani. I will explain the story of each hula later after the festival, with photos. But for now just know hula for me is very healing.
When I was little and the abuse was rampant one shelter I had was in books. The stories gave me friends, family, pets, a purpose. I loved female warriors of the storybooks and always wanted to be one. Hula is a way that has come to life for me. Hula is one way that warriors were trained and selected to guard the chiefs actually. It has a deep rich history and tells so much of human feeling that is not the same as words on paper. It is expression of the deepest soul, the heart.
I was raised in a very strict household. If you can imagine being raped and sexually abused by a male priest but also being told all sex is evil and to never even allow yourself those feelings you will have a fraction of a picture of why I am such a tortured individual when it comes to sensuality.
Hula is often about love and lust and adventure. The stories are long epics about the timed and tales of gods and goddesses in love and their sacrifices to be together. It tells the story of the land and why it is shaped the way it is. Pele slumbering under the earth crust. Kamapua’a forming the sacred falls kaliuwa’a on his exodus with his family away from the north shore of Oahu. Kahikilani the unfaithful who turned away from his love in the caves and returned to surf the wild sea. Who was cursed to turn to stone as he returned to her and who will ever watch the sea though his body is forever facing the caves.
Kahikilani is the story and hula my kumu composed himself. The story was there before my teacher but this chant and this choreography is his own.
Many motions mimic the waves and the surf that Kahikilani rode. So I went to a beach with big waves and after 2 hours of trying and trying, heels digging into the sand, to mimic the motion of the waves. I saw birds and in the chant we talk about birds who had spied for his lover and went a tattletaling that he had been surfing again and broken his promise to her. Mimicking their flight over the waves will help bring the story to life. I also saw a giant green sea turtle in the waves and I betcha didn’t know this but turtles surf. They enjoy going up into the barrel of the wave and riding it. The turtle. The shoreline. The birds. The sea spray. With all this as my teacher I hope I will do very well way the festival and be as graceful as the rolling wave. Smooth where is needed and sharp where commanded. My motions inspired by the place the hula is from. There is much about that that my teacher cannot teach. Each hula dancer must find a way to connect to the land here, where the dance was birthed, so that they will know how to tell the story. The further away from the land hula goes, the more of its kaona is lost.
You must not just tell the story. You must live the story.