WristbandsNow.com

A man accused of taking his son in defiance of a court order was arrested Tuesday.

Reginald Frank Beavis was arrested in the early hours of Sept. 15, according to Keizer Police. However, the young boy, three-year-old Ashton Lee Beavis, is still missing and is believed to be with his mother.

Reginald Beavis, 40, was arrested on a felony warrant for contempt of court and was also charged with second-degree custodial interference.

Shawna Dee Beavis, the boy's mother, is still free and is believed to have the child.

The incident apparently stemmed from a protective custody order issued by the Tribal Court for the Confederated Tribes of Grand Ronde.

According to Keizer Police, the court issued an order to take Ashton Beavis into protective custody after Reginald and Shawna Beavis didn't comply with a court-ordered treatment program.

Keizer Police Lt. John Troncoso described the couple as "drug users."

Shawna Beavis is described as a 38-year-old white woman standing 5 feet, 5 inches tall and weighing approximately 155 pounds. She has sandy blonde hair and blue eyes.

Ashton is a three-year-old American Indian boy with black hair and brown eyes, standing 2.5 feet tall and weighing about 50 pounds.

Reginald Beavis was arrested around 7:30 a.m. Sept. 15 when he was found by Salem Police in the area of Academy and Pine Streets NE in Salem.

According to Troncoso, Reginald Beavis attempted to flee but was apprehended by Salem Police and turned over to Keizer authorities.

It's been a year and now school is starting and I cannot find LaTravis Hawkins*. He's supposed to start high school and he's nowhere to be found. His mother is not returning any phone calls, he's not responding to any texts. I have a feeling I know where this whole thing is about to go.

Over the past year, my relationship with LaTravis has changed. If I said drastically, that may be an overexaggeration, but it would be closer to the truth than any other word choice.

This time last year he wasn't missing, he just was refusing to go to school. LaTravis had spent his entire summer playing basketball sporadically on the streets of Chicago and was told by the school administration that he'd have to repeat the sixth grade. Upon hearing that, LaTravis told his mother that he wasn't going back.

Pride finds a way to manifest itself even in failure.

Temeika* (LaTravis' mother who is all of 35 years old with a 16-year-old daughter who seems to live a different -- better -- life than both she and LaTravis) has other issues. She's had to move the family twice in a six-month period. Apartment-to-worse apartment. Trying to run away from the dude her son referred to as his "stepfather," trying to run away from her own demons.

In the four-plus years I've known LaTravis, this is the first time I've ever met or spoken to his mother. It seemed that since her boyfriend was (finally) gone she'd (finally) decided to be a parent to her child. She said she needed help with LaTravis. "He don't wanna listen to me," "I can't get him to do anything," "I don't wanna lose my child." The all-too-typical, all-too-often-heard story of the stereotypical type of parent Bill Cosby wrote about in his last book.

So LaTravis has spent 13 years of his life living with his mother but hardly ever seeing her. No guidance, no direction, no limits. The only thing the kid has had to cling to has been the game of basketball. It's been his escape from the neglect. It loved him back. The fact that his face still has an innocence beneath the scratches and scars of the streets that had developed over those years is a miracle in itself. The difference between 12 years old and 13 years old is enormous.

Especially when the life you happen to be living is on pace to end by the time you're 15.

The 12 weeks leading up to last year's first day of school were a hazy shade of childhood. I last saw LaTravis on June 1, 2008. His ear had gotten pierced, even though he said it had been pierced for a few years but he just never liked wearing an earring. Now he was bling. He seemed good, though; relaxed, funny, his usual self. I watched him play ball with his crew, they still had no answers for him on the court.

He played at a slow pace, much slower than before. It was almost as if not to embarrass his boys, who were all older and bigger than him. Half-court games of two-on-two and games of "varsity" (aka: 21). He'd win one easy, then lose two on purpose. Turnovers on game-points, missing free-throw shots on 20 to send himself back down to 11.

In the two-on-twos, his teammate (who actually was the best player in their crew) would just look at LaTravis after LaTravis would miss a shot that he'd normally make or after a bad pass that is usually a guaranteed dime. It was a look of, "I know you are b.s.-ing, but why?" I want to pull LaTravis to the side and ask him what he's doing, but the kid has a smile on his face. He was for once having a good time. He was -- for once -- being a kid.

It was after June 1 when everything changed. No sight of him, no phone calls. His 22-year-old "superstar" cousin returned home from college and took LaTravis under his wing. Reintroducing him to the side of the game that he hadn't had a chance to do while the NCAA had him under scholarship. And while the older cousin "hoop dreamed" around the city, he took LaTravis with him.

From ball courts to Benz shops. From Attack Gym to Avalon Park to Altgeld Gardens. I heard stories: stories that I shouldn't have been hearing, stories a child should not be living. Out of the apartment by 8 a.m., back after 2 a.m.. No cell phone, no calls, no check in. The day I met his mom was the day I had planned to take him and his crew with me to a weekend basketball camp. I needed to do something to get him out of the streets, away from his "cousin."

That's the day I found out LaTravis almost died. Twice.

A disease that causes instant and uncontrollable seizures called petit mal hit LaTravis unexpectedly. He blacked out at 1:30 in the morning while hanging out at someone's apartment one night. His friends -- all under the age of 16 -- had no idea what was going on, panicked, and found a way to rush him to the hospital. All scared, they just left him there. No call to LaTravis' mother, LaTravis' cousin or to me. Next thing Temeika knew, she said, she was getting a call from the hospital saying her son, who left the house that morning to her knowledge 100 percent healthy, was ready to be released. No previous information given. No warning.

Imagine even as a neglectful mother getting that call about your child?

Then, five weeks after that, LaTravis escaped a shootout at the place he plays ball the most. When I called all over the neighborhood trying to find out if he was up there at the park when it happened or if he'd been hurt, one of my boys who lives just blocks away from the park said he saw LaTravis and he was up there when it happened, but he got out and that he was safe.

He also said he didn't like what he was seeing in LaTravis. What he was seeing in LaTravis for the first time, was a kid looking like he was having nothing to do with basketball and a kid hanging with people that had nothing to do with basketball. He said he's seen LaTravis with "another cousin;" said this time the cousin was older than 22 and so were the other "cousins" in the car they were riding in. Cups of Hennessey and smoke made up those rides. He said, "They were at the gas station, but they wasn't gettin' gas."

I knew the routine. I knew where this was about to go.

MEDFORD, MASS. - While Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and representatives of the Middle East Quartet debate whether evictions of Palestinian families are a barrier or catalyst to a two-state solution, Israeli and Palestinian women alike confront the realities of the conflict on the ground.

These women work toward a sustainable peace as committee members, as demonstrators, and as mothers raising and educating their children despite occupation. But their representation in formal negotiations is inadequate.

Because Israeli and Palestinian women are disproportionately affected by occupation and the threat of violence, their input into the national security debate – and international negotiations for peace – is essential.

On the Palestinian side, occupation increases women's exposure to violence not only while traveling to various locations, but also at home.

Consider the story of Maha, a Palestinian woman living next to the wall separating Israel from the West Bank. Before the wall, Maha was able to travel without problem to the village of Al Ram, where she taught mathematics, according to the Jerusalem Center for Women. But now, the potential for harassment at checkpoints is the norm. Because of that, she no longer travels at all and can no longer bring home the income from her job. This in turn diminishes her family's economic security.

Though men face economic hardship as well, the threat of gender-based harassment can mean increased restrictions on women's movement, and hindered access to jobs, healthcare, and education. Because women are often the care-takers, a danger that requires a child to stay inside the house means diminished educational and economic opportunity for mothers and sisters, in addition to increased psychological and emotional stress.

For other women, the economic hardship experienced by men due to the occupation correlates with increased levels of domestic violence, as Amnesty International reports. Additionally, the numerous roadblocks and restrictions on movement mean women may have difficulty physically getting to remote family and friends to seek psychological support after they experience domestic violence.

In Israel, too, increased levels of militarization and violence have affected women disproportionately, particularly in poor and marginalized communities. As in the West Bank and Gaza Strip, increased violence among men – as seen among Israeli army combatants during intensified military operations – can mean the home becomes more tumultuous and emotionally stressful, increasing the probability of domestic violence.

Along national borders as well, poor women feel the greatest burden of rocket attacks. During the 2006 Second Lebanon War in northern Israel, women received little assistance from the Israeli government in the aftermath of Hezbollah rocket attacks, according to the Mahut Center in Haifa.

Because many poverty stricken women lost jobs during the war, the lack of government compensation for forgone wages led to a widening of the economic gap between men and women. Higher unemployment, compounded with the emotional burden of caring for children out of school meant increased reports of trauma and despair among women, according to the center.

The suffering that women face under increased militarization should translate into a large presence in the security sector. But the Haifa Feminist Center reports that men are overwhelmingly the central decisionmakers in matters of formal conflict resolution, while female politicians largely address socioeconomic issues within the "private" sphere.

This lack of entrenched female involvement is partly due to the use of army rank as a criterion for promotions within the security sector. To be sure, varying perceptions of the role women should play in Israeli and Palestinian societies and within the family, while nuanced and never monolithic, also play a role.

But using army rank as a way to promote leadership in the security sector means that women rarely become central players in issues of national defense, even though they may have a more acute sense of the disproportionate effect of violence on women.

Knowing intimately how civilians on the ground suffer during armed conflict – and who bears the largest burden of violence – is key to designing defense policies that do not exacerbate the enemy's determination. Many women have this very information because they are the ones taking care of the injured, raising children by themselves when husbands are in combat, and sacrificing their jobs and economic security when there are increased restrictions on freedom of movement, or when rocket attacks prevent children from attending school.

For years, women's organizations in Israel and Palestine have worked to increase female participation in the peace process. Groups like the Haifa Feminist Center have organized conferences and lobbied legislators, while the Palestinian section of the Women's International League for Peace and Freedom has met with Palestinian leadership about increasing the number of high-level posts held by women.

Such grass-roots efforts should be supported and recognized by US diplomats and the Obama administration, both politically and financially.

One simple step for major players to take could be to facilitate increased information-sharing between these organizations, the Israeli government, the Palestinian Authority, and members of the Quartet. That alone could bring a spotlight to this issue.

Of course, women cannot magically wave a wand and transform the Israeli-Palestinian discourse on security into a conversation about human rights and needs.

This transformation must include male and female politicians alike, so that defense analysts understand why the safety of women in the Sheikh Jarrah neighborhood of Jerusalem and Al Ram and Ashkelon vitally affects policy. To begin, a greater number of women must get to the negotiation table.

Until the debate includes further talk of individual economic, educational, and physical safety alongside discussions of borders, weapons, and power politics, delegates like those visiting the Sheikh Jarrah neighborhood in protest of recent evictions will not fully understand the root causes of conflict Rachel Brown is a master's degree candidate at The Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy at Tufts University.

It's not too late to launch a giving circle program for this year. Giving circles offer donors an opportunity to work more closely with the nonprofits they support to direct their funds to areas of special interest. By facilitating this gift designation, nonprofits build stronger relationships with individual donors and create a new stream of donations.

What is a Nonprofit Giving Circle?

Simply put, a giving circle is a group of individuals with each person or couple making a contribution to the group’s “fund,” and the group deciding together how to direct the “fund” to a charitable organization or organizations. Commonly, giving circles are formed by the donors themselves without an affiliation with a nonprofit.

In these cases, the circle might decide to make grants on a quarterly basis and support a different cause each time.

“A cross between book clubs and investment clubs, giving circles offer a philanthropy-focused social environment for members and often help them learn about issues in specific areas of concern,” write Paul Brest and Hal Harvey in Money Well Spent: A Strategic Plan for Smart Philanthropy (2008).

As giving circles have become more prominent, nonprofit organizations have started to embrace the model for strategic fundraising. In some cases, the more democratic and participatory giving circles are replacing the outdated named giving society model, which often operated on the principle of recognition.

“Giving circles are not donor circles. Giving circles are about something other than giving a certain amount of money to one particular charity and they do involve members deciding together where to give resources away,” writes Angela M. Eikenberry in Giving Circles: Philanthropy, Voluntary Association and Democracy (2009). So, then, how does a nonprofit adopt the giving circle model to benefit its organization?

Why Should a Nonprofit Consider Hosting a Giving Circle?

The giving circle model can require significant resources to coordinate. But giving circles have a number of advantages, according to the Forum of Regional Associations of Grantmakers in its Giving Circles Knowledge Center. These advantages include:

Further engaging existing donors Bringing new donors to the organization Engaging donors in a new and different way Establishing a new channel to provide more in-depth information to donors Providing a vehicle for donors to learn more about the impact of philanthropy How Does a Nonprofit Host a Giving Circle?

Once a nonprofit decides to implement a giving circle program, the organization should consider the range of services it will provide. At minimum, the nonprofit will hold the giving circle “fund” as its fiscal agent.

In the case of foundations, this generally involves setting the giving circle up as a donor-advised fund with the circle recommending to the host foundation who should receive grants from the fund and for how much. For charitable organizations, this might take the form of a designated fund within the organization, such as the “Community Art Fund.” In both cases, the money is donated to the organization and the organization is responsible for tax deduction documentation (as appropriate). Donors can then be organized to support specific areas. (One idea is to come up with three “needs” and then offer donors the choice to vote on which one they are most interested in.)

The host organization also carries out a range of specific tasks for the giving circle, according to the Forum of Regional Associations of Grantmakers, which may include:

Financial, managing accounts and financial reporting Administration and support, developing policies, databases and communications Coordination of special events for giving circle members

Philanthropic education Reporting and evaluation on how funds are used Educational programs about issues and projects Fundraising support, identifying new member prospects and creating marketing materials Public relations Nonprofits can charge a small fee to cover administrative costs and can also charge per event. Pay attention to legal requirements around what is permissible in terms of services in exchange for charitable donations.

By hosting a giving circle, nonprofits can create a new partnership with donors. There is no one set model, so nonprofits should talk with donors to gauge interest, engage leaders to create momentum and find a mechanism for designation that suits both sides.

Police are hunting for the killer who stuffed a body believed to be that of a Yale University graduate student behind a wall in the high-security laboratory building where she worked.

Police found the body around 5 p.m. Sunday, on what was to have been 24-year-old Annie Le's wedding day.

A friend said Monday the doctoral student never showed signs of worry about her own personal safety at work, although she did express concerns about crime in New Haven in an article she wrote last year.

"If she was concerned about (it) she would have said something to someone and they would have known," Jennifer Simpson told CBS' "The Early Show." "And Jon (her fiance) would have known, her family would have known, friends would have known."

Simpson called Le, a pharmacology student from Placerville, Calif., friendly and affable to everyone.

"She was a people person," Simpson said. "She loved people. She loved life. We just can't imagine anybody wanting to harm Annie."

Another friend, Laurel Griffeath, echoed those thoughts on NBC's "Today" show.

"I can't even imagine someone mad at Annie, much less wanting to hurt her," Griffeath said.

Police are analyzing what they're calling "a large amount" of physical evidence.

They will not discuss suspects, other than to say Le's fiance is not a suspect and has assisted in the investigation. It was unknown Monday morning when an autopsy would be performed.

The building where the body was found is part of the university medical school complex about a mile from Yale's main campus and is accessible to Yale personnel with identification cards. A network of some 75 video survelliance cameras are trained on every door.

Campus officials have said that the security network recorded Le entering the building by swiping her ID card about 10 a.m. on Sept. 8, and have been baffled before Sunday's gruesome discovery that she was never seen leaving.

The university planned a candlelight vigil at 8 p.m. Monday at the Ivy League university. The Yale Daily News says an e-mail to the Yale community invites participants to "bring a candle and join us in solidarity."

Yale President Richard Levin offered support to Le's family and her fiance, Columbia University graduate student Jonathan Widawsky. The couple was to marry Sunday in Syosset, N.Y., on Long Island's north shore.

"The family and fiance and friends now must suffer the additional ordeal of waiting for the body to be positively identified," Levin said.

Le wrote an article that was published in February in the medical school's magazine. The piece, titled "Crime and Safety in New Haven," compared higher instances of robbery in New Haven with cities that house other Ivy League schools. It also included an interview with Yale Police Chief James Perrotti, who offered advice such as "pay attention to where you are" and "avoid portraying yourself as a potential victim."

"In short, New Haven is a city and all cities have their perils," Le concludes. "But with a little street smarts, one can avoid becoming yet another statistic."

Le, who worked in a laboratory in the five-story building's basement, was reported missing Sept. 8. Her ID, money, credit cards and purse were found in her third -floor office.

More than 100 local, state and federal police had been searching the building for days, using blueprints to uncover any place where evidence or Le's body could be hidden.

Investigators on Saturday said they recovered evidence from the building, but would not confirm media reports that the items included bloody clothing.

On Sunday morning, a state police van drove down a ramp into the building's basement area. Authorities also sifted through garbage at a Hartford incinerator Sunday, looking through trash that was taken from the building in the days since Le went missing.

Yale students on Monday called the finding sad, but some said the discovery doesn't make them feel less safe at Yale.

"Obviously it's a city and there are safety concerns," said 18-year-old Peter Spaulding, a student from Maryland. "It can happen anywhere. You have to go on with life."

Law student Lindsay Nash of West Chester, Pa., said she doesn't sense a heightened level of fear on campus.

"There's always an attention to safety here," she said. "I think there's perception that you need to be careful regardless."

KANPUR: Has Kanpur become a hub of human-traffickers? This seems to be indicated, if the statistics with a central investigating agency are to be

believed. As many as 60 children have gone missing in highly mysterious circumstances in and around the industrial city within a span of six months.

A senior police official in the state capital too admitted that there is a need for serious approach towards the cases of missing children. "Taking cognizance of the media reports as well as figures available with social organisations regarding the missing children from Kanpur, the investigating agency had sought a detailed report from the Kanpur police in this regard," the official added.

Sources say that only recently a group of children rescued by the Bihar police were found to be mostly from the Kanpur region.

Not only this, the GRP, on June 13 last, rescued 11 children between 11 and 15 years of age from the 2307 Howrah-Jodhpur Express and arrested three persons in this connection at the Kanpur Central Railway Station.

According to GRP, the three accused identified as Mulayam Makhal of Kolkata, Mohammad Akbar Imam and Umesh of Gaya district in Bihar after abducting the 11 children were taking them to Jaipur to the agents there, involved in human-trafficking.

All these lead to the worrying question whether the members of human trafficking racket are spreading their tentacles in and around the industrial city.

"There may be many such gangs in hiding here. Most of them are new recruits and do not have a past criminal record. It becomes quite difficult to track down such miscreants," said a senior police official further.

Another police official said that even the DGP office had asked the Kanpur police to conduct preliminary inquiries and register cases of missing, kidnapping and abduction within the meaning and provisions of sections 361-374 of the Indian Penal Code and to take legal action under the Juvenile Justice (Care and Protection of Children) Act 2000/06, the Child Labour (Prohibition and Regulation) Act 1986 and the Immoral Traffic (Prevention) Act 1956.

Giving details about the missing children, a police official said that the maximum number of children were reported missing from areas like Barra, Naubasta, Kidwainagar and various rural pockets of the district and here mostly people from economically weaker sections reside.

Grief-stricken kin of those missing keep running from pillar to post to trace out their lost loved ones. On an average, it was found that in most of the cases victims were from 8 to 15 years of age.

Going by the earlier records, missing children are being used in trafficking, flesh-trade, begging rackets and even organ trade. As per the studies made by a city -based child helpline nearly 8-9 children unaccompanied by their parents reach Kanpur Central railway station daily.

According to a social worker, "There are gangs who pick up children forcibly. Such incidents keep happening with frightening pace here in the industrial city," said she.

Another member of child helpline said that what helps the gangs is the facility of direct trains from Kanpur to Delhi-Bihar-Howrah and Mumbai. The kingpins hardly visit anywhere to make the deal. According to him, "They recruit persons who are least noticeable, so that they are not suspected."

Social organisations are convinced there is a big human trafficking racket waiting to be unearthed in the region. At the moment, they are focussed on trying to locate the `dalals' involved in trafficking. "You might be aware of 'Chachas' (uncles) with trafficked children, I have so often heard of these 'Chachas', who bring cheap minor labourers into the city in return for a commission," said Rajshekhar, a coordinator with `Sathi', an NGO fighting against human trafficking.

And only recently, two minor girls were freed from the clutches of a `Baba' from the Kanpur Central railway station, when the girls were at the verge of being supplied to a third party. The victims identified as Uma Devi, 10, and Shyam Kali, 12, were later handed over to their respective parents.

Similarly, the cops of the Government Railway police (GRP) freed a child, Bittu Sisaudiya, from the clutches of his abductors at the Kanpur Central railway station on August 31. The abductors identified as Manoj, Raj Srivastava alias Ravi, Raghuveer and Vishnu, were nailed down by the GRP sleuths.

Commenting on the issue, a senior police official, however, said "There are occasional complaints of missing children. And if there are any, then those are mostly cases of elopement of minor girls or sometime marriage by consent," he said. He added that the problem has a larger social dimension to it. "It is not essentially a law and order problem," he said, adding that organisations working here need to study this and come up with solutions instead of merely making wild allegations.

However, queries made by TOI revealed that very little or no headway had been made by the police in many such cases. In fact, in most of these cases the police stations concerned were ignorant about the progress of the cases and could not give any information.

A new foundation dedicated to assisting children of HIV/AIDS victims launched its first outing -- a one-hour cruise along Biscayne Bay -- with help from organizations and businesses in Miami Beach, North Miami Beach and Miami.

As the afternoon sun set on the Miami skyline, Jamiah Byrd, 9, and classmate Tasha Burden, 9, giggled nervously as they boarded the second floor of a glass-bottom boat, the first boat ride for both.

But once the evening's cruise had gotten under way, excitement had quickly taken over any feelings of nervousness.

We're having a lot fun playing with our friends; this is pretty cool,'' said Jamiah, who attends Poinciana Park Elementary in Liberty City.

Along with about 30 children who boarded the Island Princess on Sept. 2, Jamiah cruised along Biscayne Bay past the impressive mansions and film sites on the Venetian Islands and Star Island.

The trip was made possible by a foundation aimed at helping children like Jamiah who have lost a parent to HIV/AIDS.

Jamiah's mother died in 2007. Six months ago, Jamiah's aunt founded the Nuna Kidz Foundation in her memory to help the surviving children of parents who have died well as those whose parents are battling HIV/AIDS.

Jarmisha Renee Wright, whose nickname was ``Nuna,'' died when she was 28, leaving behind five children, including Jamiah.

Jamiah's aunt, Jarkisha Callaway, said Nuna Kidz Foundation encourages families affected by HIV/AIDS to discuss the illness openly.

The first time Wright's family learned of her illness was when doctors told them after she had died, Callaway said.

When she died, I had to tell her children why she died,'' said Callaway, 31, of Cutler Bay.

The group also wants to help support the surviving children.

When I tried to get help from the community, I found that there was nothing out there in our community to educate and support children personally affected by HIV/AIDS,'' Callaway said.

I wanted for people to stop being ashamed about the disease and to be more open about it and how it affects the ones you love. I'm actually learning more about it now because of her death.''

Along with her mother, Jacqueline Uddin, 47 - whose two sisters also died after contracting the virus -- Callaway formed a partnership with the Hosanna Community Foundation, a nonprofit, Liberty City-based group that provides social services to youth and families throughout Miami-Dade County. The foundation, in association with the Hosanna Community Baptist Church, sent along nine children on the outing.

The kids shared an evening of fun that also included boxed lunches provided by Jerry's Deli on Miami Beach for the foundation's first field trip.

The foundation also got help from Miami Party Boats and the community outreach program at the Kabbalah Centre in North Miami Beach.

Jerome Baker, 11, had too much fun to be upset after one of his shoes had gone overboard.

I had a lot of fun seeing all the mansions and eating the chips that they gave us that I don't really care about my shoe,'' said Jerome, who attends Kelsey L. Pharr Elementary School in Liberty City and is one of Callaway's nephews.

The one-hour cruise left at 6:30 p.m. from Bayside Pier.

After three months of planning, volunteers from the Kabbalah Centre, a spiritual and educational center in North Miami Beach, held fundraisers to purchase school supplies, which were distributed to the children after the evening cruise.

Being a social worker, this comes naturally to me and it takes a lot of effort and teamwork, from ground zero, to create an event like this,'' volunteer Rivka Flowers said.

Leantwan Ford, 12, whose mother, Lakeisha Ford, died in 2001 of the disease, took in all of the excitement and then pronounced what he considered the coolest part of the trip: ``Seeing Scarface's house,'' he said.