I am sure many of the readers of this blog have seen this video, featuring a Brazilian father and his baby daughter; one of those moments that ex or family courts cannot steal from us. Enjoy.
Archive for the ‘Personal’ Category
A long time ago, the Greeks invented tragedy. Tragedy is about irreconcilable positions and impossible goals. Often in the mix there are delusional aspirations, because folks fail to assess their predicament.
Talking about crazy aspirations, take that one: Being “#1 Dad”, as a fellow painted on the roof of his building (see photo), when the divorced ones can barely be dads. When I saw it, I thought of a comment of a reader of this blog. The man had an accident, tried to get disability, lost his job, while his daughter was more than 18. In New York State however, child support is owed until the child is 21, and more… it is actually owed after the child is 21. Our man still keeps paying back support while his daughter is 24.
Why should he? Simply because for New York State, child support obligations is a gender-based financial yoke, whereby men are non-custodial payers bound to pay support to ex until the child is 21, irrespective of any need.
Posted in Immigration policy and families, Personal, tagged Assad regime, Daesh, Damascus, George Soros, Greece, Lesbos, Mytilene, refugees, Somalia, Syria, the Financial Times on July 29, 2015 | Leave a Comment »
On July 1, 2015, my girlfriend and I took the boat from Mytilene (Lesbos, Greece) to Athens. That day, most travelers on the Blue Star 1 were not the usual tourists doing the twelve-hour journey at this time of the year. They were Syrians (perhaps also Afghans and Somalis), mostly men, going to Athens on a transit visa. From there they would try to reach Northern European countries.
The day before, we had seen long caravans of men, veiled women and children walking along the roads of Lesbos. Small boats coming from the shore of Turkey had dropped them off in the north of Lesbos, in small villages like Eftalou, where chances to get caught by the Greek navy are remote. The price the smugglers charge for this short trip, we later learnt, is about $1,000. The migrants were all heading to Mytilene, Lesbos capital, where a refugees camp with a capacity of 400 people is totally overwhelmed.
In my experience, the poor and the destitute often tend to be the nicest people (after them come the Greeks). First, we started a conversation with two women and an adorable 7-year old little girl who could not fully bend one of her arms, which had been crushed under stones when her house was shelled. Later, we met two thirty-year-old Syrian men, whom we will call X and Y. The deck was crowded, and they insisted on finding us chairs and offering us some of the almonds that made their dinner for the day. X and Y are well-educated civil engineers, who had finished their degree and were working in the suburb of Damascus, until it became impossible to go on: They had to do a five-year military service and fight all the foes of the Assad regime. They also have no sympathy whatsoever for Daesh and its version of Islam. Y has two little girls, who are still in Damascus, and whose pictures he keeps on his cell phone. X’s wife is pregnant. For the two men, staying in Syria was not an option, and they have the support of their family in their journey.
The next morning we did not see X and Y among the crowd landing in Athens. We hope they made it to Germany or Denmark, where they want to work and settle.
The sad thing in all this is that Europe quietly let Greece cope with these fluxes of migrants coming from Asia and Africa, adding to the aggravation of EU austerity policy inflicted upon the country. In the Financial Times, George Soros called for an integrated migration and refugees policy in the European Union. So far, he is unfortunately screaming in the desert.
In November 2014, I contacted my ex-wife to ask her to tell me where Chloé, my youngest daughter, was planning to study next year. Chloé is in her senior year at Brearley, and I do not know anything about her plans for College. I had not asked ex for my oldest daughter on time (before she turned 18) and I should have known better. My ex-wife has never ventured any information about the girls, about education, health, religion or anything, although she is obliged by our divorce contract to “inform and consult.”
At first, ex argued my request was impinging on Chloé’s privacy when she will no longer be a minor. I insisted, stating that when Chloé will be an adult, she will take care of her privacy herself. Upon my insistence, she announced to me that Chloé would answer to me herself. I received this email [CLICK IMAGE TO ENLARGE]:
I smelled an obvious rat: the name change – Chloé Jones instead of Chloé Lacour- the “friendly” greetings, the mention of my blog, which truly disturbs ex and ex only. This email looked exactly like the one ex would like my daughter to write to me: a statement of total indifference to what we had, and denying what we may possibly have in the future. I did not buy it.
I am tired of abiding by my side of the contract (the only side that New York State family laws acknowledges unfortunately: paying child support and unreimbursed medical expenses) and not seeing my daughters, let alone knowing nothing about them. I also have been a teenager too, and as a teenager, I broke off with my parents (God bless their souls) as a teenager would do, with the seeming rationality of passion. I did not sense it in Chloe Jones’ answer. If a break were to happen, so be it. At least, I wanted this break to be between Chloé Lacour and her dad, and make sure that it was not, again, a fake break engineered by ex. So was my answer [CLICK IMAGE TO ENLARGE]:
I then got the following answer from “Chloe Private”, which confirmed my doubts[CLICK IMAGE TO ENLARGE]:
Oops, I will not stick to the name Chloé Jones, which I picked for no plausible reason. It happened to be that of a porn star, but, mind you, I am fully aware of your obligations as a non-custodial father according to New York State family laws, which, as my “biological father,” you need to comply to.
Who ever thought millennials were trouble makers?
I believe I have not corresponded to my daughter Chloé, and I bet there are 99.99% chances that ex impersonated her. That’s why I am posting these emails; They do document a singular case in the annals of parental alienation.
(And by the way, as another proof of my doubts, there is nothing to respect with French taught at Brearley, if what you get from it after several years of French is what is reflected in this “Chloe Private”s email).
Posted in Miscarriage of Justice, Personal, tagged Alma Guillermo Prieto, Ayotzinapa, Elana Poniatowska, Guerrero, Iguala, Jesús Murillo Karam, Miguel Ángel Hernández Martínez, Peña Nieto, The New York Review of Books, Workers World, Yamecansé on November 16, 2014 | Leave a Comment »
Last Sunday November 9, I was at the demonstration in support of the families of the 43 student teachers rom the rural school of Ayotzinapa who disappeared in Iguala, a city located in the State of Guerrero, Mexico. The horrifying slaughter of these 43 students by the drug cartel “Guerreros Unidos” acting on behalf of the mayor of Iguala on September 26 have prompted protests that show no sign of relenting so far in Mexico. Demonstrations have taken place in Europe, and in several cities in the US.
Last Sunday, the organizers of the demonstration asked volunteers to draw on a large white piece of paper the face of one of the 43 from their picture. Mine was that of Miguel Ángel Hernández Martínez. We were also given the bio of our model written by the renowned writer and journalist Elena Poniatowska. We had to write this bio on another sheet of white paper. This exercise was most meaningful as, while drawing and writing, we came to be acquainted with the person we had to draw and to describe with Poniatowska’s words. Here are those for Miguel Ángel:
Miguel Ángel Hernández Martínez, age 27, “his nickname is “Botita” (little boot) because his older brother, who also studies at the College, is called “El Bota” (boot) so he automatically got called “Botita” although he isn’t little, he’s of medium height and fat, never messes around, is always friendly, wholesome, never annoying: he doesn’t make rude jokes, he’s friendly and likes to help out, always looking out for people, a boy who is very supportive of everyone, in class he explains things to the teacher and gives a hand…”
While the parents of the disappeared don’t even have the remains of their sons to start mourning, and the Mexican judicial system, in the voice of the Attorney General Jesús Murillo Karam, is “tired”of answering questions, President Peña Nieto was representing Mexico at the G20 summit. I for one, have no category where to put this posting. The closest is “Miscarriage of Justice,” but for justice to be miscarried, there has to be a judicial system which at least tries to carry justice.
This September 10 2014 was another anniversary of my last supervised visitation with you girls. This year, I will not be lashing out at Manhattan Family Court or at Comprehensive Family Services. Instead, I am going to reintroduce you to my goddaughter, Hélène.
Hélène, the daughter of my sister Marie and one of your five French first cousins, was in New York from April 24 to May 1st of this year. She wrote a card to each of you to tell you she wanted to see you. She did not receive any answer from you, perhaps because you were never handed her cards. In case, let me reintroduce you to her.
She came to New York with her fiancé, Thomas. They made this trip to New York to celebrate Thomas’ mum birthday. Hélène is a judge and Thomas a bass at Strasbourg Philharmonic Orchestra . We had a really nice time together and would have liked to see you.
I am shocked by Robin Williams’ death.I stupidly believed that if there was somebody equipped to handle depression, that was him.
I loved the roles he played in his movies: a father who stands for fatherhood in Mrs Doubtfire (which by the way, is translated as Papá de por vida (Father for Life) in Spain, and Papá por siempre (Forever a Father) in Latin America), a shrink who is a father figure in Good Will Hunting.That’s my problem with Robin Williams: he was an excellent actor, an actor who made you believe he is the fellow you met in his movies.
And the little I know about his personal life does not help me either: through divorce,Robin Williams did not loose his sense of humor and his class.
Anyway, I am going to stop second guessing him. Thanks and rest in peace.