Fatal Friday – Ocho

I lied. This is a Fatal Friday and Thursday combination. Oh yeah. We goin’ all out baby and  this is because Nicole and I got to see each other TWICE in a row this week. TWICE.

On Thursday we decided to meet up and shuffle our booties down town to the edge of the Gayborhood in Philly, to a big, beautiful brown stone: the home of the William Way LGBT Community Center. There, Hollaback Philly was hosting a free (FREE!) screening of “Not My Life,” (2011) the eye-opening, heart-breaking and awe-inspiring documentary about modern-day slavery and human trafficking.

Released almost a year ago, “Not My Life” is a timeless piece capturing the depths of the inhuman treatment of people all around the world, mostly young girls trapped in positions of poverty, manipulation and torture. To have found a free screening of this film seems unbelievable to me, but with topics like this one, it is more important to spread awareness and knowledge than it is to have a high box office gross.

After the film was over, Rochelle Keyhan, a leading player involved in Hollaback, moderated a panel of trafficking experts and rehabilitation coordinators, including Hugh Organ (Covenant House) and Stefanie Fritzges (Homeland Security). Unfortuantely I couldn’t stay, but fortunately Nicole could.

(If you know of anything suspicious or related to a human trafficking effort: 1-888-373-7888)

And then on Friday, oh Friday, Nicole and I met up at a pizza and beer joint on campus with a few other buddies to discuss why I’m not getting enough B12 as a vegetarian, roller-derby through the 2nd wave feminist lens and androgynous angels in Byzantine art. Sadly she had to leave early since she lost her wallet. Although it didn’t make up for the trauma, when she returned downtrodden after trying to re-locate it, her special man friend and I bought her beer and cheese fries. That’s what friends are for.

About half an hour later, we divided into two groups: those that wanted to continue consuming alcohol and those of us who wanted to attend a slam poetry showcase. Hosted by Temple University’s award-winning student organization, Babel, five of us went and had a great time. The subjects were heavy, including anti-military, black identity, women’s sexuality and religious beliefs. The experience was amazing and I have a tingling to start slamming myself.

And lastly, although I did not witness it (and I could kick myself EVERYWHERE for it…) Nicole and our friend Justin, who came to watch Babel with us, told me that while I had stepped out during the opening mic portion of the evening, a girl got up, dedicated a love song to the emcee and then, in the moment, proposed to her. On stage. LGBT acceptance style all-around. Whether or not I was there, the hopeless romantic in me applauds the love that went down.

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