Save the Horses

I've always been... A bit rebellious. I don't like rules. I don't like definitions.
Growing up I also loved horses, as I do to this day. My Granddad in Ireland was a veterinarian, and I envied his way with animals, admired his one-ness with the breeds that he took care of and owned.
I remember the first time I went riding. I was six, the horse was six feet tall. But once I was up on the saddle, height and size were just an idea. Everything else was abstract except for the fact that hooves can hit the floor causing flight.
It was beautiful.
Back home in good ole' New York there were stables around the corner from my home. Carla, an old babysitter who I can remember loving dearly, would take me there everyday. It gave me a piece of Ireland. It gave me a piece of home.
We all know what it's like to have things taken from us, things we care about. So imagine little me being told that the stables were being knocked down to build condos.
I did what any sane seven year old would do... I made a bloody petition.
Not only did I get every member of my family to sign it, but I also had the entire second grade class practice their newly developed cursive skills on that piece of paper too.
I can vividly remember marching up to the men with the hard hats on their first day of construction. Vividly remember holding that piece of loose leaf, torn from my spelling notebook, in my hands like it held the cure to hunger and would solve all the world's issues. Vividly remember seeing their reaction as a four foot curly haired red head walked up to them like they were the reason Elvis had died over the toilet.
As I handed them that paper, that beautiful piece of paper, I realized that I can make change. I can do something important with this life I've been gifted with. Even at a young age, I just knew.
I'd love to tell you that the stables are still there, and that I visit regularly, but a few months later they were replaced by creme colored buildings with fake red window pains.
& that's when I became a feminist.

Saving Victoria

There are moments in life when your heart changes, and your energy alters into vibrant auras and sets your soul free.

I've experienced this a certain amount of times that I can only count on one hand, and for that I am forever grateful.

Do you know what it's like to be in a crowd full of ten thousand people and feel immense love for every single one of them? To pull emotions from the bottom of your heart and let yourself feel. To KNOW you are apart of something bigger then yourself, and allowing even your inner doubts to disappear and get lost in the movement? Nothing but joy comes to mind when I think back to November seventeenth. When I jumped on a bus at one a.m. from New York City to Washington D.C. with some of the greatest people I've ever met. We marched with ten thousand people to show the world that empathy isn't dead, that people care. Deeply.

That a generation can and will make a difference, and have the drive to stop at nothing. That we can put aside our own inner issues and self pities to wake up and realize that there aren't children who have the privilege like us to waste away our lives on Facebook and social media websites. That even at seventeen years old, we can change the course of history.

Everyone should be a person who believes basic human rights for all is a priority.
Before I found out about Invisible Children, before I attended their Fourth Estate Conference in 2010, before I wrote my college essay on them, before I attended MOVE:DC... Before all of this, I was Victoria.
I was Victoria who was so wrapped up in issues of her own that she didn't realize the bigger picture. So wrapped up in issues that I today can say where hardly of as much of an importance compared to the issues that children being abducted from their homes by a rebel group had to deal with.
Today, I am still Victoria. That little girl who was forced to grow up and learn a lot quicker then most within me will never die. But today, I am also Victoria, Victoria who knows what her purpose in life is. Victoria who wants to make a difference. Victoria who wants to leave her mark on the world.
Not Victoria who hid in her room every night and cried herself to sleep. Not Victoria who let a man take advantage of her. Not Victoria who didn't fight for what she thought was right.
Because honestly, I'm too bloody strong for that.
When I found out about the organization Invisible Children, it was like someone said directly to me, "Hey you, yes you, YOU can do something about this. YOU can change the course of history."
So I did.

I will forever be thankful, forever grateful, that this organization doesn't just ask for your money and says 'goodbye.' No, they expect you work with them every step of the way. They ask you to get involved, they ask you to MOVE. They showed me I was worth more, that I can make someone's life worth more.

Thank you, Invisible Children, for your tenacious hope.