See, I’d considered her marriage to him to mark a turning point for her, wherein she began her transformation from the innocent Whitney of “How Will I Know” to the drug addict of recent years. I also knew that the two of them had a violent, disturbing 15 year marriage before finally divorcing publicly 5 years ago. EDIT: A friend posted this on Facebook tonight. I think she looks beautiful, and I imagine this is her, in the afterlife, now.

Unfortunately, Whitney and Bobby are not a unique case. There is no shortage of douchebag husbands in the US or anywhere else.

There are the guys who cheat, repeatedly, even after being found out, promising they would stop or given ultimatums. There are guys who gamble away their paychecks or just flat out stop paying the bills, leaving their wives to fret over family finances. There are couples who haven’t had sex in months, or sometimes even years, because the husband is so hooked on porn he can no longer imagine being intimate with a real woman.

Worst of all are the abusers – not just the guys who batter, but the ones who belittle (then claim you’re being “too sensitive” or “can’t take a joke”), remove access to family, friends or money, or who control every aspect of their wife’s life from what she wears to whether she holds down a job.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. Women perpetuate domestic violence all the time! Indeed, they do. But because I’ve only ever been married to men, and my girlfriends have only ever been married to men, I know much more about abusive husbands. Out of all my guy friends, I only know of two whom I would consider to have been victims of domestic abuse.

I was once in a relationship that made me feel very badly about myself. I am 5’8″ tall and at that time was around 135 to 140 pounds, yet he constantly poked fun at my weight (my dad did the same thing, so it never occurred to me that this was wrong). He joked about wanting to break up with me. He made me choose between him and school the first time I got accepted to San Francisco State and kept me up until 1am the night before my first “real” job.

As the years went by, I began to sense that things were very wrong somehow but I didn’t know what to do to solve the problem. After I befriended a couple who genuinely seemed to love each other, the answer finally became clear: my man was a douche, and probably an abusive one at that.

Toward the end of our relationship, he showed a more violent streak. This was most noticeable after he’d somehow left his house keys at my brother’s place. You see, I was working days, and he’d leave for work about an hour before I’d arrive home (around 5pm). He’d come home at 2 or 3am, watch TV for a while, then slide in bed next to me. The night he forgot his keys, he pounded on our door but I didn’t hear him. I woke up in the wee hours of the morning and found him shivering on our balcony. I told him he NEEDED to get his keys. The next day, unbeknownst to me, he failed again to retrieve the keys. I woke up at 3am to the sound of a loud crash. He’d broken down the door. Worse, he blamed me for his behavior. The door wasn’t the only object he broke during our seven years together, and that wasn’t the only time he lost it.

After he moved out, but before he had all his stuff out, I found nearly two dozen loaded, unsecured firearms in our apartment that he’d accumulated. What happened to him? Oh, he became a gunsmith. Still, very bad things could have happened, and I didn’t find out until a decade later that my family was worried he was going to snap one day.

Back to abusers… I don’t know for sure what makes them act the way they do, but my supposition is that they don’t truly love their partners, although they may think they do. When I was thinking of this topic, the following song came to mind. Not to make light of the subject at all, but I think Meatloaf may have nailed it:

I want you,
I need you,
but there ain’t no way I’m ever gonna love you.
Now, don’t be sad,
’cause two out of three ain’t bad.

For an abusive spouse, there is a never-ending need at the core of their behavior. It may be a longing for control after having grown up with an alcoholic parent, or it may be due to a personality disorder. Either way, regardless of the behavior, they are the weaker spouse. But none of this excuses them.

Which is why I am heartened to see media outlets like the BBC warning of an increased risk of violence on Tuesday. For teens, there is the Love is Respect website. And across the country you can find performances of The Vagina Monologues this Valentines Day raising awareness of this very issue.

Let’s remove the shame and the stigma and make this an issue that’s freely talked about. Then, let’s do more than talk.

Have a great week, everyone!

I grew up as part of a family that could be described as dysfunctional. And so, for that reason (and because the holidays always seem to bring bad familial memories to the fore), a couple of weeks ago I began searching for information. I wanted to learn more about how a person could go about surviving and thriving during this time of year even though he or she might as well be related to Joan Crawford, Archie Bunker and the Bundys.

I didn’t find much, aside from an article on Oprah’s website. Therefore, I figured I’d draft my own. In the spirit of giving, here are my tips on  making it through the end of December in one piece, emotionally and spiritually.

Take Time to Reflect

You may not have had the ideal upbringing. You may have grown up in a haunted house, or  even had no home for a period of time. You might have suffered from abuse at the hands of a family member. Or you were abandoned. Or neglected. Or you simply have relatives who, for lack of a better term, are complete buttheads.

In my own family, I’ve seen a little of everything. Yet when I consider what my life actually looks like now – I’m a mom, a businesswoman and a member of the community – I am amazed at how far I’ve made it from my inauspicious beginnings.

I would recommend you do the same. Focus on what you have achieved on your own. Did you finish your degree? Do you love your job? Are your kids awesome, wonderful people? Look at your life through the lens of gratitude and realize how much you’ve grown. Once you realize how significant your accomplishments are, your unhappy past will seem that much more insignificant by comparison.

Broaden Your Definition of “Family”

Trite as it may sound, friends are the family you’ve chosen for yourself. Realizing this, I think, is key to appreciating not only how meaningful your relationship is with your friends but also how important you are to them.

My personal belief about soulmates goes something like this: each and every one of us has multiple soulmates in this life. These people are the other members of our “tribe” and when you meet one, you quickly recognize him or her as your soul brother or sister.

I have a list I keep on Facebook of my “Close Friends”. This is a relatively small group (currently only eighteen people out of more than 420 total “friends”) of those individuals with whom I feel the closest – and yes, these are folks I actually know in person. My criterion for including people on the list was whether or not I thought the person had ever met the “real” me, but in retrospect, these folks are my soulmates and, by that token, my extended family.

Get Busy

Create your own traditions and means of celebrating the season. No one ever said you had to have turkey and stuffing for Christmas dinner, especially if that dinner brings back bad juju from your childhood. In fact, the farther you get from your family of origin’s traditions, most likely the better.

You have a lot of room for creativity here. If your mom always put up a 7 foot blue spruce the day after Thanksgiving, you can keep a small tree on your tabletop – or eschew a tree altogether. I decided a few years ago to begin celebrating St. Nicholas Day because I loved the idea of celebrating the life of the man after whom Santa Claus was styled. We managed to skip this year (work, *sigh*) but I may try to get my 8-year-old some activities to do before Christmas. He loves the chocolate coins in the shoes.

Reach Out

My final tip is, I think, the most powerful. Helping others allows you to experience something beyond yourself and the pain you’ve lived through. No matter how poorly you were treated or how much sorrow you’ve experienced, there is always someone else out there who has suffered more, or more deeply, whether that someone happens to be an adult, a child, a cat or an organization in need. Volunteer work has long been named a panacea for depression, and was recently named one of the top activities Americans enjoy during the holidays.

When you’re looking outward, there is less time to reflect inward on past hurts and disappointments. You’re also celebrating your position as a member of the largest family of all.

Nightmare on Wadsworth Court

October 1981. My dad had decided our growing family needed more room and so in short order we sold our one-story ranch-style home and moved halfway across town into a newer two story towards the end of a cul-de-sac near Piner High school. I was six and my younger brother was five. In three years’ time, my older half siblings would come to live with us in the house. We had recently transferred from public school to Christian school and I had decided I was a follower of Christ. I believe this, more than anything else, could possibly account for what happened in the house.

Fellow toastmasters and honored guests, don’t ever let anyone tell you that a newer home cannot be haunted. Over the new several years, I saw and heard things I can never forget.

When we were looking at the house, shortly before my parents made the offer, I remember seeing a tarantula in a terrarium next to the garage door. That, as it turns out, was just a foreshadowing of events to come.

We lived in the house for about two weeks when the night terrors began. I dreamt that malevolent spirits were devouring the eyes of all my stuffed toys. I know it sounds funny, but to me it was a terrifying dream and I never forgot it.

My entire life I’ve had very vivid dreams, but during this period I began not only talking in my sleep but sleepwalking as well. Over and over and over again. I had terrifying dreams almost every night for several years and, when I was awake, I was a nervous kid. My mom worked nights at a local hospital and, often, when she wasn’t home I would lie awake at night and worry. The few times my parents went somewhere and left my brother and me with a babysitter I was convinced something terrible would happen to them.

Then, the noises began. [play breathing noise] Only whenever I was alone in a room would I hear them. Someone would walk in, and the noise would stop. The person would walk out and the noise would begin again. My parents tried to explain it away as water rushing through pipes, yet the same noise followed me when I switched bedrooms and could be heard during the day, at night, whatever time of day in either room.

One day, I was sitting in my bedroom, alone, when the noise started up. I ran to the door and attempted to leave the room. I grabbed the doorknob and it wouldn’t budge. Panicking, I shook the door and pulled wildly. Finally, after about a minute of this terror, the door opened.

I got suddenly very ill one night. I was laying in my bed, unable to sleep when the walls began to move in and out – I could literally see the flower pattern moving away and then drawing near again. Then the lights flashed on and off. On and off. My soft, warm blankets suddenly became heavy, like slabs of concrete, falling on me, one after another. My parents were down the hall, watching TV, and the Mac trucks on the show they were watching were suddenly in the hallway, making their way toward my bed to run me over. I screamed for my mom, who came running in, with a worried look on her face. I explained what was going on, and she asked me a most peculiar question: “Who am I?”

I paused. I wasn’t sure who she was. I thought… she’s my sister? Maria, maybe? I opened my mouth to say this but I wasn’t sure. Her eyes grew huge. All I could say was “I don’t know! I can’t remember who you are!” She quickly got my dad, who gave me Tylenol. Within a few minutes, my 104 degree fever had subsided, and I could remember that it was my mom, Carolyn, standing at the foot of my bed.

By far, however, the most terrifying incident of all happened just a few months after we had moved in. Laying awake one night, unable to sleep, I happened to look out my open bedroom door and into the dark hallway. You know how, at night when it’s really dark, you sometimes see “static”? I clearly saw the dark figure of a man, outlined in white, wandering silently up and down the hallway. I knew it wasn’t my dad, as I could hear him snoring down the hall. It wasn’t my older brother; he was asleep in the boys’ bedroom with the door closed. What I saw that night looked remarkably like this: [photo of shadow figure]. Paralyzed with fear, I pulled the covers over my head and lay awake that way the rest of the night.

Other things happened while my family lived in the house – some very easily explained, some not. My older brother left home abruptly one night and joined the Army. We didn’t see him for two years. My sister had a near-fatal car accident and spent two weeks in ICU. My younger brother had more mishaps – medical, legal, personal – than about anyone I’ve ever known. And during those years, I developed extreme insomnia and rarely ever slept through the night.

I lived on Wadsworth court until I was 14. When, at long last, we moved into a brand new house in Windsor, the night terrors, the high fevers, breathing noises and apparitions stopped. We sold the house to a nice couple and I scarcely thought about the house ever again.

I’d felt them before occasionally, starting last Fall, but they’d been increasing in frequency and were becoming more worrisome. After noticing them one day for well over a minute, I finally called Kaiser, who wanted me to come in ASAP to be seen.

I still don’t know what’s up – could be GERD, could be an inflammation of the ribcage; neither the doctor nor I have ruled either out – but the experience made me stop and ponder. What do I really want out of life, and how am I going to get there?

An even bigger question is where do I want my focus to be? My eight-year-old recently joined Boy Scouts and has finally been assigned a one-on-one aide to help him though the school day. My career is moving along, albeit maybe not to the full extent that I’d like. I’ve become a Competent Communicator at Toastmasters and am also a club officer. Finally, I made some headway towards my physical fitness goals a while ago, but had to pull back due to sheer lack of time to exercise (which I still manage to squeeze in once or twice a week).

Ultimately, I think our time on earth is best spent with those we care about and who love us back. For most people, this means family, although some have such dysfunctional relatives that this is not necessary or advised.

Nor must you include your entire family in your trusted circle. Over the past year, I’ve absolutely lost faith in several people and will have to decide how to proceed. This happened again just last week and I won’t give details here, but I’ve been composing a response, in my head, to this person for a couple of days and am about to give it to them straight.

One of my new favorite shows lately is The Big C. I like it because it’s both funny and heartwarming, and touches on this very topic. Cathy’s family is far from perfect, but beneath the layers of dysfunction lie a group of individuals who would do just about anything for each other.

When you’re facing the ultimate big question of What does my life mean, how do you go about finding the answer?

photo by CameliaTWU	via PhotoRee

It’s often said that the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. In my case, the journey began with a single Facebook post.

In September 2010, I half-jokingly (well, mostly jokingly) sent out the following query to my friends: “Anyone here know anything about Toastmasters?”

A few people responded that they’d heard of it; my coworker Chris, who, unbeknownst to me at that time was a budding entrepreneur, was interested in checking it out.

Earlier that day, I had spoken up in our weekly department meeting. I work in an IT department of around sixteen people, and at that time, I’d been with the company for almost two years. Once a week we have these brief (only 55 minutes long) meetings called huddles, and I’d been asked a question about a project I had been working on with.

I stared into the eyes of the fifteen men and women, most of whom I’d known for 21 months, and I panicked. As I spoke, I could feel my esophagus tightening and could hear my vocal pitch rising. My pulse raced, and I shook a little as I spoke. It made little sense to me and was humiliating.

I suspect – and have for a long time – that I probably have a little bit of social anxiety. Some of it is probably genetic and some probably is due to my upbringing. I took drama classes and appeared in several plays and musicals from 7th grade all through high school, did a bit of community theater afterward, have performed in a number of choirs and choruses and even did a tiny bit of runway modeling, but none of this has ever helped my self-confidence.

So I put out the query about Toastmasters to my friends and Chris and I made plans to check out some clubs. We settled on joining club number two, which fit in well with work schedules. In October, we officially joined.

What happened over the course of the next 11 months was nearly miraculous. I won’t speak for my colleague; he is more than capable of doing so himself. But my transformation while preparing and delivering ten speeches – nine from the Competent Communicator Manual and one given to a group of teenagers at the California Conservation Corps – has escaped few who know me.

I am preparing to give my final speech for the Competent Communicator and simultaneously producing a series of training videos at work. I am also in the midst of redesigning the club’s website as part of my duties as VP of PR this term.

Thanks to Toastmasters, I can write and deliver a solid speech. I can command the attention of a room of people and make an audience laugh. I can give an evaluation and can almost speak off the cuff. Almost. Most importantly, I now know that I can act in a leadership capacity, assisting my fellow club members, colleagues, whomever.

I would recommend the organization to anyone. Our club is diverse, fun and über-supportive. I learn something new literally every week. It’s not free, but the benefits of joining cannot be measured in terms of dollars and cents.

You know what helps immensely? Talking to someone. I have a network of friends that span all ages, walks of life and geography and I have a few that I love dearly. But for me to spill all would place simply too big of a burden on anyone I care about.

I’ve had a lot of luck in the past with counseling, in various forms. From an in-office sit down session with a trained therapist to a series of phone calls with a volunteer counselor via my employer’s EAP, I’ve been able to bare my soul without guilt, gain some new perspective and regain my psychological strength.

Right now, I’m feeling like I need to go back into counseling. I have two main barriers, however: time and money.

Time is an issue because of the schedule I keep: I work 40+ hours a week, volunteer for Toastmasters at least one day a week and my husband is gone Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday nights as well as Saturday mornings, which leaves me as a married “single mom” by default on those days. Most therapists are willing to schedule appointments after work, but not after 9 or 10pm.

Money is an even bigger hurdle at the moment. My company’s EAP covers a finite number of in person appointments – I think 3, off the top of my head – or up to 10 phone sessions. My insurance carrier, Kaiser Permanente, covers a few sessions with a therapist per year. After that, the $90-150 per hour fee per appointment becomes a bit hard to swallow, particularly when competing financial needs are contributing to your need for therapy (if anyone from Europe or Canada is reading this, I must know how it works in your country!).  A weekly visit can easily total more per month than daycare costs; even biweekly visits can be cost-prohibitive. And I’m middle class… imagine being unemployed or underemployed and needing therapy!

So, tonight, I got to thinking… I am a web designer by profession. I’ve purchased domain names in the past, and I have some writing skills. Why not set up a website – helpmegettheraphy.com – and arrange for visitors to contribute to my counseling fund? Given enough traffic, and perhaps a Google Adsense account, marginal amounts of money – say a dollar per visitor – would add up quickly.

I’d attract new readers by posting my complete life story, anonymously, on the site. Visitors would get to paragraph three, say to themselves, “That’s really f****d up!” and be compelled to donate. Over time, my story will be picked up by tech blogs and then Yahoo, CNN, BBC and others and a slew of copycat sites will crop up worldwide.

Once everyone who, like me, clearly needs someone to talk to has received enough donations to obtain all the therapy they need, life as we know it will change forever. Fewer affairs, divorces and suicide; less drug abuse, alcoholism, domestic violence and bullying will alter the human race in a profoundly beautiful way. Over time, we may even see fewer wars, less corruption and more economic stability.

All because I had some crazy idea for a website.

photo by jalb	via PhotoRee

Good evening, fellow Toastmasters and honored guests… I would like for you to close your eyes and imagine yourself seated at a dinner table. It’s Thanksgiving and the entire family is gathered around. You have just said grace and are about to dig into your first bite of tender, juicy, perfectly cooked… Tofurky.

With Portobello gravy.

And mushroom and sourdough stuffing.

And mashed cauliflower on the side.

For between 5 and 10% of Americans, this is how holidays are celebrated. Traditional? It depends upon how you look at it. Ladies and gentlemen, tonight I want to persuade you of the many benefits of vegetarianism – some of which you may find surprising.

First, let’s get a few definitions out of the way. There seems to be a lot of confusion about the words “vegetarian” and “vegan” and there is a difference.

To be a vegetarian means that you do not eat meat. Plain and simple.

Vegetarians come in three varieties:

• Lacto-ovo vegetarians consume dairy and eggs.
• Lacto vegetarians consume dairy but not eggs. This may be due to a variety of reasons ranging from animal rights to health reasons. For example, I have a relative who is so allergic to eggs that the one time she got a flu shot she ended up in the ER.
•  Ovo vegetarians are the opposite: the consume eggs, but not dairy. The reasons are similar to lacto vegetarians. I’m lactose intolerant and, while I consume a little bit of dairy, I try to limit myself. In some ways, I am a part-time ovo vegetarian.

To describe yourself as a vegan is a whole other ballgame. If you are a true vegan, you not only don’t eat meat, but you abstain from consuming any animal based products. This includes not only not consuming dairy and eggs but such things as wearing silk and wool. The only problem with veganism is that it’s almost impossible to be completely, 100% vegan. Not only are foods like honey derived from animals, but so is the galvanized rubber used in car tires, and the pink or red coloring used in many cosmetics, for example.

For my speech, I will concentrate on lacto-ovo vegetarianism. Many omnivores are wary of a vegetarian diet. There are many concerns people would have about giving up meat. I will respond to these concerns, one by one.

Now, when most omnivores hear that I am vegetarian or that my 8-year-old is vegetarian or that my husband is mostly vegetarian, the person usually asks me one of a few different questions:

1.  Why don’t you eat meat?
2. How do you get enough protein/other nutrients?
3. What DO you eat?

I was at a dinner party on Saturday night when question number one came up. My hostess asked me “Exactly why don’t you eat meat?”

For me, the reasons were varied. I didn’t like the taste of meat; it grossed me out. I was concerned for the way animals were raised and treated. I figured I’d lose weight without it. Later, I took a college class which described for me in great detail how factory farming works and the environmental impact of raising cattle and chicken – particularly that it takes about 2,500 gallons of water to produce one pound of beef or that – and I am so sorry to mention this – beef cattle are fed chicken manure.

Other reasons that one may go vegetarian include concern over chemicals and hormones in meat, concern over illnesses such as mad cow disease and salmonella, religious reasons, or in order to help reduce hunger worldwide.

Research has shown that a vegetarian diet has measurable health benefits. Vegetarians have a lower overall incidence or obesity, cardiovascular disease, diabetes and early death. Why would you be vegetarian? Why not?

The next most common question I hear is “How do you get enough protein (or some other nutrient)?”

Would it surprise you to know that protein is no big deal to get in a plant-based diet? Protein can be found in not only eggs and dairy, but nuts and legumes (beans), rice and other grains and even mushrooms.

A vegetarian diet can also provide you with numerous vitamins and minerals – Vitamins A, C and D, for example. Other nutrients, like iron, zinc, Vitamin B12 and omega-3s can be found in foods such as spinach, eggs and walnuts. According to the latest research, it’s a poorly planned vegetarian diet which is poor in nutrients. Then again, isn’t that true for any diet?

The last question I always hear is “What do you eat?” I hear this question a lot, and I’m always happy to answer.

So… what do I eat? Some examples:

Eggs/quiche/omelets

Milk products (almond, rice or soy)

Cereals

Protein shakes

Pizza

Pasta

Soups

Burgers (veggie, chik’n, or Quorn)

Bacon (veggie bacon)

Hot dogs

Thai food

Sushi (vegetarian)

Burritos

And so on, and so forth… Notice how I didn’t say “salad” once?

The only food I don’t eat… is meat! If you’re looking for a great diet which is easy to follow and has the possibility to open the doors to a variety of foods to you, I say “veg out”.

The trip to Phoenix was very good. My mom, son and I hopped into my mom’s Ford F350 and drove both ways. Yes, it’s 107 degrees there but I kinda like the heat, even if I kept feeling drowsy at my grandma’s house. I’m already homesick for Arizona, even though I’ve never lived there. It was just so nice to be surrounded by people who love me and so good to see them all.

My grandma, who is 89, recently finished treatment for melanoma that had spread to her lungs. She did a round of experimental chemo which took a serious toll on her health and she stopped taking the pills a few weeks ago. Then, she had a PET scan which showed no signs of cancer at all. Unbelievable!

Unfortunately, almost the minute we got home, my other grandma (my dad’s mom) passed away. My dad hopped in his truck (he also drives a big honkin’ Ford) and headed to Texas for her funeral, which was yesterday. Say a quick prayer for my family, if you please.

My 8-year-old has a couple more weeks off before school begins again so I hope to spend some time – really spend some time – enjoying him before all the school year craziness resumes. Hopefully I won’t get so caught up in the whirlwind of activity this time.

When I was in eighth grade, my science teacher introduced us to his friend Roy and gave us all cards bearing Roy’s full name – Roy G. Biv. If you’re familiar with the colors of the visible spectrum, you no doubt can recite what the letters in Roy’s name stand for: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet. These seven colors, when atmospheric conditions are just right, create a rainbow. To me, each color had its own distinct personality, and this helped me to remember the sequence.

Fellow Toastmasters and honored guests, as long as I can remember, I’ve been fascinated with color and its effect on people. For my speech tonight, I want to talk about three ways in which the experience of color has influenced humans.

photo by Sean Hillmeyer	via PhotoRee

First, a quick color theory lesson. If you’ve ever taken an art class you’re probably familiar with this. If not, it’s the color wheel. Now, when we’re talking about light and rainbows there are seven colors but in the pigments used for paint, there are only six. If you’re familiar with the color wheel, you know that red, yellow and blue make up the primary colors and orange, green and purple are the secondary colors. Mixing a primary color with a secondary color results in what is called a tertiary color, such as red-orange or blue-green.

Each color on the wheel has an opposite, known as its complementary color. Mixing a color with its opposite cancels the two colors out. The combinations are:

Red –> Green

Orange –> Blue

Yellow –> Purple

Notice in each case that a warm color is paired with a cool color.

So that concludes the color theory lesson – now, about how color impacts us.

Colors have psychological and physiological effects on people.  Business owners know this. Have you ever noticed how many restaurants use red in their interiors? That’s because the color red increases blood pressure, respiration and appetite. If you stay the night at a B&B, you’re likely to notice the rooms are decorated in shades of blue and green. That’s because these are calming colors designed to make you want to spend more time there. One interesting thing – if you look at the opposites on the color wheel, you’ll note that each pair has a sort of yin and yang effect on the human psyche. Whereas orange is a very energizing color, blue is more calming and soothing. Yellow can lift the mood or make you feel anxious, but purple can bring you back down into a more sedate mood.

This impact on human emotion is noted in culture as well. Picasso had his Blue Period. In music we have terms like “the blues”, for example, to describe a particular style of music. In psychology, we have phrases like “feeling blue” “seeing red”, or “green with envy”.  For all of recorded history, colors have played a significant cultural role – red for alerts and stop signs, and purple for royalty, for example. Not all cultures ascribe the same meanings to all colors, although there are some similarities. You’d be hard pressed to find a culture that does not use color in a meaningful way.

It seems that color is a universal experience, and for the most part it is. Less than 9% of people have some form of color blindness and of those who do, most perceive at least some color. People with protanopia, for example, see all colors but red. With deuteranopia, green is missing from the person’s visible spectrum. And with tritanopia, a person cannot see blue.

Even without color blindness, we each perceive color somewhat differently. When I was an art student at SRJC, the instructor had us stare at various colors on the color wheel for about 30 seconds and then look at the white wall. We would each then see an afterimage – an optical illusion in which a person who has a lot of exposure to a particular color will see the color’s opposite on the color wheel. If you stare at a red circle long enough, you will see a green circle on the wall.

My classmates and I found that our personal afterimages varied wildly – some saw vivid ones and others were more pastel. Each and every person had a different afterimage for each color. To put it another way, everyone’s color perception is a bit unique. A perfect example of this is the argument my mom and I had on Friday night – she insisted that this sweater is blue and I was convinced that it was purple (dark periwinkle, actually). Who’s right? We both are! Talk about eisegesis!

Whether you’re an art student, a designer or simply someone who has strong opinions about which colors you like and dislike, you have a unique relationship with color and its affects on you. I urge you to savor this experience by painting a sunset or photographing wildflowers. Share your vision with the world.

Would it surprise you to know that I am talking about CHOCOLATE? Now, research states that approximately 65% of you are probably right now thinking “Mmmmm… milk chocolate”, while 33% of you are thinking “Mmmmmm… dark chocolate” and 48% of you are thinking “Ew! Chocolate?” That doesn’t account for approximately 2% you who are, right now, thinking “Ack! Allergies!”

photo by The U.S. National Archives	via PhotoRee

No matter how you feel about this smooth, velvety, versatile, melt-in-your-mouth confection (and, yes, I am a chocolate fan), you have to admit that the very word “chocolate’ instantly brings up connotations both epicuran and societal for nearly everyone. You’ve heard of waiting for Godot? Most of us are waiting for Godiva!

Chocolate is a $17 billion industry in the United States. The average American eats 10-12 POUNDS of the stuff per year, and if you think that’s a lot, consider that the Swiss consume 21 pounds of chocolate on an annual basis.

When I was doing my research for this speech, I noticed that chocolate was listed in several sources a drug, yet it is low in caffeine, non addictive, and has no negative side effects when taken in moderation. In fact, medical studies show that eating dark chocolate daily may promote cardiovascular health. It’s been known to have emotional and psychological benefits as well – consuming an ounce of chocolate increased the production of serotonins, a natural anti-depressant. What other drug can make those claims?

Chocolate is ubiquitous in our society, particularly on holidays such as Christmas, Mothers Day and, oh yeah, Easter. But how did it come to be so beloved?

Cacao was discovered 2,000 years ago in ancient Mesoamerica. The first known users of it were the Classic Period Maya (about 250-900 AD), who crushed the cacao bean and drank it mixed with various spices. Sugar was unavailable, so this was a bitter concoction that was particularly popular during royal and religious events. Additionally, priests during this era would present cacao seeds to the gods as a sacred offering. The Aztecs used it as a form of currency.

Around 1521, Hernan Cortes conquered Mexico and discovered chocolate. The Conquistadors forced the Aztecs to hand over their chocolate and brought the mysterious bean back to Spain. Simply put, it was a hit. Between 1759 and 1788 almost 12 million pounds of chocolate were consumed each year in Madrid alone. The demand for chocolate in Spain was so great once introduced that, from the early 1600s to the late 1800s, Mesoamerican slaves tended, harvested and processed cacao.

Now, while chocolate had been a drink for the people in the Americas, in Spain it was only available to the wealthy and to church officials. The Spanish Catholic Church recognized chocolate’s energizing properties. Hernan Cortes was known to have said: “A cup of this precious drink permits a man to walk for a whole day without food.” Priests were permitted by the 16th century to use liquid chocolate as a meal replacement during fasting periods.

By 1750, the chocolate craze had spread throughout the rest of Europe. As in Spain, only the wealthy could afford to eat and/or drink it. In France, you had to be a member of the Aristocracy. Chocolate continued to be grown and harvested by slaves overseas and it was pricey to produce.

Eventually, however, chocolate became more affordable, thanks in huge part to the Industrial Revolution, which made it possible to mass-produce chocolate. It is now a truly global commodity, available to all, and is produced in 33 countries. Today, thanks to organizations such as Oxfam, farmers in developing countries are able to make a better living growing chocolate which is sold on the fair trade market.

Today, chocolate is a food for all, and hundreds of manufacturers produce hundreds of brands of candy bars and other foods containing cacao. It’s frequently named as a favorite flavor in the U.S. and elsewhere.

The health benefits of cocoa are still being researched, but new evidence is found frequently that dark chocolate, with its high concentration of flavanoids, can help to fend off cardiovascular disease and other age-related illnesses.

By now, you guys probably know that I like to think a little outside the box, so in that vein [pulls cake out of box], I have to let you know that one of my personal favorite uses of chocolate is in chocolate birthday cake. [candles are on cake in reverse] Apparently, I’m 73 today… Do I look good for my age? Maybe it’s the flavanoids!

Madam Toastmaster…

Bibliography

http://www.familyresource.com/lifestyles/cooking/interesting-chocolate-statistics

http://www.seventypercent.com/

http://www.fmnh.org/chocolate/history.html

http://pubs.acs.org/cen/whatstuff/stuff/7849sci5.html