Worse Than Crack Cocaine? Growing up Poor
From AOL Daily Finance Poverty damages children more than being born to a crack addicted mother. Poverty keeps children from attaining their full potention, and hurts us all as a society as a huge waste of potential resource:
In the 1980s, the crack baby epidemic was hard to ignore. Television show after television show, article after article proclaimed that children born to addicts of the increasingly prevalent “crack” cocaine were all-but-guaranteed to have birth defects, including extremely low IQs and severe emotional problems. This “lost generation,” commentators emphasized, would be incapable of forming relationships or reaching full emotional maturity. They would be, in the words of Washington Post columnist Charles Krauthammer, condemned to “a life of certain suffering, of probable deviance, of permanent inferiority.”
A little over 20 years later, Krauthammer’s predictions have proven almost embarrassingly inaccurate. Last week, the findings of a 24-year-long study of crack babies revealed that parental use of the drug had little or no direct effect on the children. In the process of investigating the babies, however, researchers discovered another environmental problem that did, in fact, lead to problems with depression, anxiety, cognitive functioning, and a host of other issues: poverty.
In 1989, Dr. Hallam Hurt, chair of the neonatology department at Philadelphia’s Albert Einstein Medical Center, began tracking 224 near-term or full-term children who were born to crack addicts. In the ensuing years, her longitudinal study followed the children, finding that, overall, their IQs were about the same as a control group of children of non-addicted mothers. Further, the children in Hurt’s study had comparable outcomes when it came to educational and emotional development.
That having been said, Hurt’s study found that children raised in poverty — regardless of whether or not their mothers were addicted to crack — tended to have lower IQs and lower school readiness than those who weren’t raised in poverty. A big part of the problem, she argues, is environmental: Of the children in her study, “81 percent of the children had seen someone arrested; 74 percent had heard gunshots; 35 percent had seen someone get shot; and 19 percent had seen a dead body outside.” The children themselves acknowledged the effect of these events: “Those children who reported a high exposure to violence were likelier to show signs of depression and anxiety and to have lower self-esteem.”
In other words, while prenatal crack abuse may not have a major effect on children, the societal conditions in crack-ravaged communities most certainly do. As Hurt emphasized, “Given what we learned, we are invested in better understanding the effects of poverty. How can early effects be detected? Which developing systems are affected? And most important, how can findings inform interventions for our children?” Or, to put it another way, now that we understand that poverty is more dangerous for children than crack, what can we do to protect our children from its effects?
In Florida, the worst schools are those serving the poor. Many fell a full grade point in the Florida evaluations and would have fallen further if there were not a law – I am not kidding – that says they can only fall one grade point in a year. We are failing in the two most important areas that can help children pull themselves out of poverty – good health care, and good education.
Uwem Akpan and Say You’re One of Them
This is a very troubling book, and, for me, a difficult book to read. It has taken me weeks, and I will admit I have often interrupted the reading of it to read other, easier books. This book makes me very uncomfortable. The stories and images trouble my sleep.
Uwem Akpan is of the tribe of Annang, from Nigeria, and has committed to an even larger tribe, the Catholic Church, of which he is a priest, and this gives him a unique perspective. The stories in this book often focus on tribal differences, including religious differences, and although they are set in different African states, have parallels in lives lived elsewhere. Those tribal differences are between Moslem and Christian, but also between Pentecostal and Catholic, Tutsi and Hutu, and, most significantly, the differences between to tribe of the very poor and the very rich.
Each story is told through the eyes of a child living in a different African state – Kenya, Benin, Ethiopia, Nigeria, Rwanda.
In one of my favorite segments of the book, strife has broken out in Nigeria, strife between the Moslems and the Christians, but also throw in the Pentecostals and the Pagans and really mix it up. A bus is waiting in the bus station to take people back to the southern part of Nigeria, and on this bus is a young man, half Moslem, half Christian. The bus stands idle for hours, while the bus driver seeks fuel to make the trip. During this time on the bus, many conversations take place, and what I loved was how alliances shifted with each conversation. The people on the bus were from different traditions, but came together as a community. No community is without arguments and dissensions, however, and consensus builds, diminishes, shifts – it is a microcosm of the tensions and stressors pulling apart the Nigerian nation state.
Uwem Akpan treats the children in each story lovingly, treasuring their innocent perspective and the sweetness of their hearts and vision. The adults don’t come off so well, passing their days in drug-induced stupors, drunk, selling children into slavery and prostitution, chopping off their limbs with machetes, and closing themselves off into groups which protect themselves and exploit others.
It would be an easier book to read if it were about aliens, or if these stories were confined to Africa, but the stories of these abused, neglected and exploited children echo in every continent, country and city in the world.
Uwem Akpan writes prose that is poetry; the surroundings are described with such detail that you feel in the moment, you see through the eyes of each child, and you see things that are beautiful as well as scenes you did not want to see. As you can see, I have a lot of ambiguous feelings about this book. At the same time I can admire the writing, the stories have left images in my mind that cannot be erased. Dark images. There is hope in the persistence and resilience of many of the children, but concern about their long term survival. It leaves a heavy weight on my heart.
Pakistan’s Swat Valley Women Fight Back with Jirga
I love this. Women are using technology – and the traditional system – to persist in seeking justice for women who are often little more than slaves to their husband.
Tahira
Women in Pakistan’s Swat valley are making history, and perhaps some powerful enemies, by convening an all-female jirga, a forum for resolving disputes usually reserved for men. Some readers may find details of this report by the BBC’s Orla Guerin disturbing.
Tahira was denied justice in life, but she continues to plead for it in death – thanks to a grainy recording on a mobile phone.
As she lay dying last year the young Pakistan wife and mother made a statement for use in court.
In the shaky amateur video, she named her tormentors, and said they should burn like she did.
Tahira was married off at the age of 12 and died last year following a suspected acid attack
Tahira’s flesh was singed on 35% of her body, following a suspected acid attack. Her speech was laboured and her voice was hoarse, but she was determined to give her account of the attack, even as her flesh was falling off her bones.
“I told her you must speak up and tell us what happened,” her mother Jan Bano said, dabbed her tears with her white headscarf. “And she was talking until her last breath.”
Tahira’s husband, mother-in-law, and father-in-law were acquitted this month of attacking her with acid. Her mother plans to appeal against that verdict, with help from a new ally – Pakistan’s first female jirga.
Under the traditional – and controversial – jirga system, elders gather to settle disputes. Until now this parallel justice system has been men-only, and rulings have often discriminated against women. The new all-women jirga, which has about 25 members, aims to deliver its own brand of justice.
It has been established in an unlikely setting – the scenic but conservative Swat valley, formerly under the control of the Pakistan Taliban. We sat in on one of its sessions in a sparsely furnished front room. Women crowded in, sitting in a circle on the floor, many with children at their feet. Most wore headscarves, and a few were concealed in burqas.
Probing injustice
For more than an hour they discussed a land dispute, problems with the water supply, unpaid salaries, and murder. The only man in the room was a local lawyer, Suhail Sultan. He was giving legal advice to jirga members including Jan Bano who he represents.
“In your case the police is the bad guy,” he told her. “They are the biggest enemy. ” He claims the police were bribed by the accused, and were reluctant to investigate the case properly.
The jirga tackled land disputes, water supplies, and murder
The jirga is making history, and perhaps making enemies. In Swat, as in many parts of Pakistan, men make the key decisions – like whether or not their daughters go to school, when they marry, and who they marry. And oppression starts early. Tahira was married off at just 12 years old, to a middle-aged man.
“Our society is a male-dominated society, and our men treat our women like slaves,” said the jirga founder, Tabassum Adnan. “They don’t give them their rights and they consider them their property. Our society doesn’t think we have the right to live our own lives.”
This chatty social activist, and mother of four, knows that challenging culture and tradition comes with risks. “Maybe I could be killed,” she said, “anything could happen. But I have to fight. I am not going to stop.”
They glued [my daughter’s] mouth and eyes closed. Just her face was left, the rest was flesh and broken bones”
Taj Mehal
As we spoke in a sun-baked courtyard Tabassum got a disturbing phone call. “I have just been told that the body of another girl has been found, ” she said. ” Her husband shot her.” She plans to investigate the case, and push the authorities to act.
“Before my jirga women have always been ignored by the police and by justice, but not now. My jirga has done a lot for women,” she said.
There was agreement from Taj Mehal, a bereaved mother with a careworn face, sitting across the courtyard on a woven bed.
Her beloved daughter Nurina was tortured to death in May.
“They broke her arm in three places, and they strangled her,” she told me, putting her hands to her own throat to mimic the action. “They broke her collarbone. They glued her mouth and eyes closed. Just her face was left, the rest was flesh and broken bones.”
She speaks of her daughter’s suffering with a steady voice, but grief is wrapped around her, like a heavy shawl.
“When I looked at her, it was like a piece was pulled out of my heart,” she said. “I was turned to stone. I see her face in front of my eyes. I miss her laughter.”
Women are a rare sight on the streets of Mingora
Nurina’s husband, and his parents, have now been charged with her murder, but her mother says that initially the courts took no interest.
“Whenever we brought applications to the judge he would tear them up and throw them away,” she said. “Now our voice is being heard, because of the jirga. Now we will get justice. Before the jirga husbands could do whatever they wanted to their wives.”
Women are little seen or heard on the bustling streets of Mingora, the biggest city in Swat. Rickshaw taxis dart past small shops selling medicines, and hardware supplies.
There are stalls weighed down with mangoes, and vendors dropping dough into boiling oil to make sugar-laden treats. Most of the shoppers are men.
‘No justice’ at jirgas
When we asked some of the local men their views on the women’s jirga, the results were surprising. Most backed the women.
“It’s a very good thing,” said one fruit seller, “women should know about their rights like men do, and they should be given their rights.”
Another said: “The jirga is good because now finally women have someone to champion their cause.”
The response from the local male jirga was less surprising. They were dismissive, saying the women have no power to enforce their decisions.
Most local men who spoke to the BBC expressed support for the women’s initiative
That view was echoed by the prominent Pakistani human rights activist Tahira Abdullah. “I don’t see it as more than a gimmick,” she said. “Who is going to listen to these women? The men with the Kalashnikovs? The Taliban who are anti-women? The patriarchal culture that we have?”
Ms Abdullah wants jirgas stopped whether male or female. “The jirga system is totally illegal, and has been declared illegal by the Supreme Court of Pakistan. It can never be just. There are several extremely notorious cases where we have noticed that women do not get justice from jirgas, neither do non-Muslims.”
One of those cases took place last year in a remote region of northern Pakistan where a jirga allegedly ordered the killing of five women – and two men – for defying local customs by singing and dancing together at a wedding.
And there are regular reports of jirgas decreeing that women and young girls be handed over from one family to another to settle disputes.
But for some, like Jan Bano, the women’s jirga is bringing hope. Every day she climbs a steep hill to visit Tahira’s grave, and pray for the daughter whose voice has still not her heard. Her video recording was not played in court.
World’s Most Expensive Cities for Expats
By Mark Johanson
Where is the world’s most-expensive city for expatriates? It’s not notoriously pricey Tokyo. It’s not wallet-shrinking Sydney, Moscow or Oslo. And it’s definitely not surprisingly cheap New York City. Rather, it’s an African seaport you’ve probably never heard of: Luanda, Angola.
This finding from U.S. consulting firm Mercer underscores its annual survey’s purpose: to assess the cost of living around the world so that multinational companies and governments can determine appropriate compensation allowances for their expatriate employees. After all, more than half of oil-rich Luanda’s 5 million residents live below the poverty line.
“Despite being one of Africa’s major oil producers, Angola is a relatively poor country, yet expensive for expatriates since imported goods can be costly,” Barb Marder, senior partner and Mercer’s global mobility practice leader, said. “In addition, finding secure living accommodations that meet the standards of expatriates can be challenging and quite costly.”
Mercer noted in the survey that the difference in cost of various everyday items could be dramatic from country to country. The average cup of coffee, for example, costs about $1.54 in Managua, Nicaragua, while it costs $8.29 in Moscow. A fast-food hamburger meal in Kolkata, India, costs $3.62, compared to $13.49 in Caracas, Venezuela. A ticket to the cinema, meanwhile, can run between $5.91 in Johannesburg and up to $20.10 in London.
Cost of accommodation was another major factor Mercer looked at, and a one-month unfurnished luxury rental in Hong Kong topped the world at about $7,092 — more than 20 times as much as in Karachi, Pakistan. Yet, it was Moscow that crept in just below Luanda as the second-most expensive city for expats, followed by Tokyo, Chad’s capital city of N’djamena, and Singapore.
“Recent world events, including economic and political upheavals, which resulted in currency fluctuations, cost inflation for goods and services, and volatility in accommodation prices have impacted these cities making them expensive,” Marder explained.
Mercer assessed a total of 214 cities across five continents for its 2013 survey, analyzing data from March 2012 to March 2013. Cities were then ranked by the price of housing, transport, food, entertainment and clothing, and ordered on the joint cost of 200 items compared to the benchmark, New York City.
“Given the increasing numbers of business travelers, global ‘commuters’ and longer-term expatriates, companies are keeping a close eye on the cost of living for international assignees in different cities around the world,” Marder said, explaining the purpose of the study. “Organizations need to evaluate the impact of currency fluctuations, inflation, and political instability when sending employees on overseas assignments while ensuring they can facilitate the moves they need to drive the business results by offering fair and competitive compensation packages.”
Nathalie Constantin-Métral, principal at Mercer with responsibility for compiling the survey ranking, said that, overall, cost of living went up across parts of Europe, while it went down in much of Asia. Japan dropped significantly from last year due to a weakening of the yen against the U.S. dollar.
In the Americas, meanwhile, South American cities were the most expensive for expatriates, while Canadian cities moved down in rankings due to a slight decrease of the Canadian dollar against the U.S. dollar. New York remained the most-expensive urban center in the U.S.
“Overall, U.S. cities either remained stable in the ranking or have slightly decreased due to the movement of the U.S. dollar against the majority of currencies worldwide,” Constantin-Métral said. “Yet several cities, including New York, moved up in the ranking due to a rise in the rental accommodation market.”
You Are Not My Friend
I Have a pet peeve. I may have even ranted about this before, but it makes my blood boil.
From time to time, I will get a call from a person working at a financial institution. Or it may be a message on my machine, saying I need to call them about an account. They start out all collegial and friendly, then they want to give me financial advice.
Excuse me? You “noticed” we have money sitting in X account that could be working harder? Mind your own business! If you are going to take a percentage for rolling my money from X to Y, if you are going to take a fee for this service – then this is not friendly advice. Don’t pretend to be my friend.
AdventureMan laughed out loud once when I told the man to annotate our file NEVER to call with financial advice, that I still have all my marbles and I know what I am doing. Every now and then if he wants to make me laugh, he will fake this high voice and say “I still have all my marbles!” It never fails to crack me up; I don’t get angry often, but when I do, I say the most amazingly hilarious things.
I think what makes me outraged is that I still DO have my marbles, and AdventureMan and I have worked hard to make sound financial decisions. We decided long ago that no one cares about our money the way we do, and that we would make our own decisions. We ask for input – we get answers online, we read reviews and analyses, we ask questions of friends we respect. We make informed decisions. One of the secrets to growing investment money and holding on to it is to choose wisely and to minimize trading.
Most of these calls take advantage of people feeling inadequate when it comes to money management, especially the elderly and lonely. They make it seem like the target has a new and caring friend, a knowledgeable friend, who only wants to help. The new friend builds trust, until the target invests in the recommended product, and then . . . huh – they don’t hear from their new friend again, or not for a long while, when the friend has another idea for their money.
You are not my friend. I don’t want your great new ideas about where I should move my money; I understand that this is your job and that there is something in this for you. What you are talking about is an opportunity – it’s like cotton candy, all puffy and pretty but full of air. I know you wouldn’t be calling me if there were not something in this for you. Don’t call me. You are not my friend.
🙂 And I still have all my marbles 🙂
Rape Victim Spends Seven Months in Jail, Framed by her Rapist
This is from the New York Times City Blog:
Man Is Sentenced for Raping Ex-Girlfriend and Then Framing Her
By DAN BILEFSKY
Updated 5:42 p.m. | The Queens private detective who raped his ex-girlfriend and then framed her for a series of fictional crimeswas sentenced to the maximum of 32 years in prison on Wednesday, bringing to a close one of the most bizarre cases to grace a courtroom.
Using knowledge he acquired partly from watching crime dramas like “C.S.I.,” the private detective, Jerry Ramrattan, 39, orchestrated what prosecutors in Queens called one of the most elaborate frame-ups in recent history.
Mr. Ramrattan’s ex-girlfriend, Seemona Sumasar, 36, had accused him of raping her. After she refused to drop the rape charges, he concocted a schemethat landed her in jail for seven months, making it seem as though Ms. Sumasar was the likely perpetrator of a series of brazen armed robberies, for which she was accused of impersonating a police officer.
At his trial in State Supreme Court in Queens, prosecutors produced evidence that Mr. Ramrattan cajoled and extorted witnesses to falsely testify that she had robbed them. He even staged fake crime scenes, prosecutors said, in which he planted evidence, handcuffing one of Ms. Sumasar’s supposed victims to a pole and planting several bullets at the scene of one of the imaginary crimes.
Before Mr. Ramrattan was sentenced on Wednesday, Ms. Sumasar delivered a stinging victim impact statement, noting that he showed no remorse and was so intent on revenge that he would have stopped at nothing to destroy her. “I don’t have words for you,” she said as as he stared ahead, stone-faced, while she spoke. “You are pure evil. You are a sociopath. You need help.”
“Someone needs to put a stop to your madness,” she added.
During her seven months in jail, awaiting a robbery trial, Ms. Sumasar, a former Morgan Stanley analyst, was separated from her young daughter. She lost her business, and her house went into foreclosure. Her bail was set at $1 million, which she could not afford. Mr. Ramrattan, meanwhile, was free until an informant came forward in late 2010 and exposed his plot.
Mr. Ramrattan was convicted in November of a series of charges, including rape, conspiracy and perjury. The nearly monthlong trial offered two opposing plot lines that were seemingly irreconcilable. Prosecutors portrayed Ms. Sumasar as a single mother duped by a wily confidence man intent on malicious vengeance. But the defense characterized her as a dejected lover who had turned on Mr. Ramrattan after he said he was leaving her to return to his wife and family.
Members of the jury said the guilty verdict was predicated on their acceptance of Ms. Sumasar’s account of being bound with duct tape and viciously raped by Mr. Ramrattan, which apparently gave him a motive to create his ruse.
In his plea for leniency, Mr. Ramrattan insisted that he was innocent, saying that he had spent years helping the police solve cases as an informant. “I stand before you with no choice but to accept what is going to happen,” he said. “Think about all the cases I made over the years, the rape victims I assisted. I maintain my innocence.”
Before he was escorted away by police, he added: “There is more to come.” As he spoke, his mother, Shirley Ramrattan, began wailing and was escorted from the courtroom.
His lawyer, Frank Kelly, told the judge that Mr. Ramrattan was not the “monster” he had been made out to be.
But Justice Richard Buchter said Mr. Ramrattan deserved no mercy, calling him a “diabolical conniver and sinister manipulator” who had “shamelessly exploited the criminal justice system.”
The Queens district attorney’s office and the Nassau County district attorney’s office had insisted on Ms. Sumasar’s guilt up until she was freed just weeks before her own robbery trial was set to begin. Ms. Sumasar filed a civil suit in December against the New York City Police Department and the Nassau County Police Department for negligence leading to her wrongful imprisonment..
Justice Buchter railed against the Nassau County police, who had wrongly imprisoned Ms. Sumasar, saying that it did not take “a Sherlock Holmes” to deduce that a 5-foot-2 former Wall Street analyst with no criminal record would not have held people up at gunpoint.
He chastised the police for their egregious handling of the case, saying detectives had “turned a blind eye” to Ms. Sumasar’s protestations that she was innocent and had too easily been taken in by Mr. Ramrattan.
“The police were duped by liars by whom they had a right to be suspicious, and as a result a rape victim was framed by her rapist,” the judge said. “She was victimized by the rapist and then again by the criminal justice system.”
He added: “The defendant is the architect of his own ruin. He deserves no mercy from me, and he won’t get any.”
Pacific Northwest Natives Have DNA Link 5,000 years
Don’t you love technology? It’s like working on a complex puzzle, and all of a sudden seeing how disparate pieces relate 🙂 This is a fascinating discovery from AOL/Huffpost:
Ancient DNA Linked To Living Descendants In Genetic Study
The Huffington Post | By Macrina Cooper-White Posted: 07/09/2013 2:24 pm EDT | Updated: 07/09/2013 9:12 pm EDT
What if you could trace your ancestry back to around 5,000 years ago? Researchers were able to do just that in a fascinating new DNA study, which found adirect genetic link between the ancient remains of Native Americans and their living relatives.
“It’s very exciting to be able to have scientific proof that corroborates what our ancestors have been telling us for generations,” study co-author and participant Joycelynn Mitchell said in a written statement. “It’s very amazing how fast technology is moving to be able to prove this kind of link with our past.”
In the study, U.S. and Canadian researchers used mitochondrial genome (mitogenome) sequencing to analyze DNA inherited exclusively through mothers. Looking at the mitogenome is cheap, easier to sequence than nuclear DNA, and skirts around the problem that European men mixed with Native American women.
The researchers collected DNA from 60 living indigenous people belonging to the Tsimshian, Haida and Nisga’a tribes in the northern coast of British Columbia. The tribes’ oral histories and archaeological sites indicate they have lived in the region for generations, which made them good candidates for tracing their lineage back so many years.
Complete mitogenomes were extracted from the remains of four Mid-Holocene individuals found in British Columbia’s Lucy Islands and Dodge Island, and then that information was compared to the DNA of the study participants.
What was found? The research team discovered one of the living individuals carried this same “mitogenomic signature” as a young adult female who lived on Dodge Island 2,500 years ago — which also matched the mitogenome of the remains of a woman who lived in the Lucy Islands 5,500 years ago. Wow.
Three other living participants had mitogenomes that linked back to the remains of another individual found on Dodge Island, who may have lived around 5,000 years ago.
“This is the beginning of the golden era for ancient DNA research because we can do so much now that we couldn’t do a few years ago because of advances in sequencing technologies,” study co-author Dr. Ripan Malhi, an anthropology professor at the University of Illinois and Institute for Genomic Biology professor, said in a written statement. “We’re just starting to get an idea of the mitogenomic diversity in the Americas, in the living individuals as well as the ancient individuals.”
The new study was published online on June 3, 2013 in the journal PLoSONE.
World War Z
I talked AdventureMan into going to see World War Z with me – us and half of Pensacola showed up for the early matinee, and we got the last two seats. I had thought it’s been out for a while and people would be going to see something else, but all the theaters showing it in Pensacola are selling out every show. That doesn’t mean every seat was already filled – a lot of people had bought tickets online but weren’t there. On the other hand, while we got two good seats – they were – LOL – at opposite ends of the row!
World War Z is not a movie where you want to be sitting on opposite ends of the row.
World War Z is Contagion on steroids.
Did you ever see Romero’s 1968 Night of the Living Dead? I used to love scary movies, until I saw that movie. The scary movies were funny, not so scary at all – and George Romero changed all that with this low-budget horror classic. I think I liked it because it had a scientific kind of origin – a virus.
World War Z takes a similar approach, a scientific approach, and it is also very scary because it is hard, very hard, to be scientific and observant when your entire world becomes unsafe, when everything you known has turned to chaos. The zombies aren’t so damaged and tattered as Romero’s zombies, but they have the same herd mentality, a frenzied mob mentality, and an Alien-like skittering and swarming that makes my skin crawl.
I love seeing Brad Pitt as a responsible family man. He does it well. He has to make some very tough decisions in this movie, and you get to see that this sweet family man has another, tougher side.
AdventureMan was glad we went; he also thinks this will be a great computer game. We agreed it was scary because it had some things in it that truly can make life dangerous – you know, political leaders dying en masse, political and social systems dissolving and life becoming a brute struggle for survival with scarce resources . . . having swarming zombies kicks all that up a notch.
Not a movie for anyone under five. Maybe not even ten, if the kids are sensitive, or prone to bad dreams . . .
Our son said we need to read the book; it’s only sort-of like the movie, and has a lot of very edgy things to say about our current political system and leaders. Hmmmm. . . might have to do that.
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