Both of my sons look — to anyone outside the immediate family — perfect. I will not share their private pasts, but suffice to know that each of them has brushed with laws, although neither has a record.
We are privileged (and I don’t use the term lightly) to have enough wherewithal to hire lawyers when necessary. We know the ins & outs of university systems. We have contacts, and we have resources. Neither of my sons bears scars from youthful misadventures, some more serious than others.
What tears me up about Ferguson, and the tragedy of Michael Brown, is the lack of empathy for this situation. Across the country, people act as if it’s okay to shoot a young man six times for …. What?
My boys have screwed up. As a young man, my husband certainly did. My DIL is brown, as is my perfect grandson, still a happy dream in this picture. If my DIL were a man — as her brother is — and screwed up? Her chances of ending up dead like Michael Brown would be significantly higher than my sons’ chances. In this photo, my sons are prime target age, bracketing Michael Brown on either side. And both of them could have — with different skin colour, with different resources available to them — ended up dead. Tragically, some of their friends did.
I am profoundly saddened by the hatred pouring out of America, as if a mask of civility and tolerance had been torn from us, to reveal seething vitriol beneath. People throughout the country are saying that Michael Brown ‘got what he deserved.’ NO ONE deserves to be shot six times, at least two shots to the head.
What parent/ aunt/ uncle/ godparent/ mentor/ teacher/ friend believes that our children DESERVE to be executed for (and even this is very sketchy ‘evidence’) a box of cigars?? Who can look at the faces of our less-than-perfect young and not remember heartbreak? Disappointment? Who among us believes that OUR OWN children deserve the fate of Michael Brown? And why in the name of all that hearts hold dear and holy can we not understand that this was someone else’s child??
America, once again: I do NOT understand. Nor does Ferguson. And ALL of us want answers. Our children deserve them.
Teeth. You need them for so many things, obviously. Eating, of course. But also speaking. And singing. And to present a certain … image, to the world around you.
Imagine all your teeth suddenly gone. Compound that w/ no insurance to replace them (expensive even with insurance. Now? Imagine that this is all the result of repeated beatings for who you are. Vicious beating that, more than 20 years later, come back with a vengeance. And take your teeth, as they once took your peace of mind, your safety. Your innocence. Perhaps your faith in humanity.
A friend wrote me this weekend, asking if I would consider donating to a project she’s involved in. It’s an Indiegogo project, Unabashed Smiles. The purpose of the fund is to replace the teeth of a man in her community, an independently employed singer and choral conductor.
His teeth, she told me — and the website story adds details — were badly damaged as the result of several beatings gay bashing when he was in high school. Beatings severe and frequent enough that his teeth need to be pulled.
I am so grateful for what I have in my life: my beloved, my sons… And the list stops there, because this man was BEATEN for who he loves. In many states in this country, he can’t adopt children. So the two top items on my gratitude list? They are dreams for him, as evanescent as my dreams of far less visceral wants.
My wisdom tradition stresses lovingkindness, and giving back. So I was glad to donate. As I hope you may be. I can’t make up for the evil done to Christopher, but I can let him know that there is much love in this world. And that just as he was victimised by evil, he can be the recipient of love.
I’m hoping you feel the same way. Just in case, here’s the link: https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/unabashed-smiles/x/8455396. And thanks for listening.
I use this image alot in my blog. I wish I knew who first created it — they deserve my undying admiration & gratitude. Because to me, this is beginner’s heart.
It’s what I think of these days, especially, as I try to make sense of my own anger, frustration, and even despair. Anger at the blindness of a white, heterosexist, ersatz Christian culture. Frustration w/ a system of police ‘protection’ migrated from a war on terror, as if wethepeople were the enemy. And despair that nothing has changed since the riots of the 60s…
Today, however, a dear friend and colleague — someone I have nothing but respect and affection for — reminded me that there is more to Ferguson than my raging against the night. There are people who live there, w/ children who can’t go to school.
Children who will need counseling to get this past week out of their nightmares. A QuikTrip that may not be rebuilt, in a neighbourhood with — almost certainly — too few sources for shopping.
And still, I don’t know what to think, or how to process. So I SWORE I wasn’t going to do FB today, or tomorrow. The tragic, racist, thoughtless and downright HATEFUL posts about Ferguson and the other murders of black men & women this past month have me too upset & angry.But to be honest, it’s not strictly Ferguson. It’s a society that believes the death of a black man is ‘collateral damage.’
I understand that the officer in Ferguson may have been afraid. But face it: he did NOT know (at that time) of the robbery, if indeed there was one. So basically, he hassled a guy for living while black, and then freaked out because he bit off more than he could chew. In the BEST of scenarios, the officer is still grievously at fault: he hassled a guy for being black and jay-walking.
I’m just sick of it all. When I go out to eat w/ my (black) friends Ben or Dewayne, it’s SOOOO different than when I go out w/ my husband, or my brother-in-law. Race is such a painful, horrible legacy in this country, and I don’t know what to do except remind people, as often as it seems necessary, that we need to talk.
The response in Ferguson was waaaay out of proportion. And sure: parties on both sides are making political hay out of it. Witness the St. Louis PD, the KKK, the SLPC, etc. I tend to agree that it’s no different, essentially, from the 4-5 other murders of black men & a woman this past month. That doesn’t comfort me.
Somehow, we all have to find a way to heal these grievous wounds. And frankly? I can’t begin to heal myself, and no one has shot at me, profiled me, beat me up, or shot my son. So how on earth can Ferguson ever come to peace…?
I write daily. Often it’s a note to family, or a response to a friend or colleague. Sometimes revising creative work, and usually this blog. Lately, the blog has probably saved my blood pressure (normally quite low).
I write to process — I’m of the Flannery O’Connor (I write because I don’t know what I think until I read what I say) and E.M. Forster (How do I know what I think until I see what I say?) school of writing. I need to mess w/ writing before I’m sure what I really think.
But I’m also of the Buddhist school of writing: I write to try to find a way through my anger, my hurt.
This crisis — this murderous collision of race and class and hate and history — in Ferguson, MO makes me heartsick. I don’t use the term lightly: there is hot pain in my chest where normally I’m pretty easy. I find myself unable to move beyond a kind of setpoint of sadness. That too is unlike me.
I want to know how a lovely young man — a former student — can say he has seen NOTHING on the news about Ferguson, or about Michael Brown’s death, or about the city’s dependence on riot police instead of conversation among leaders. Where is the national outrage??
I want to know where the small town of Ferguson got the idea that you can do the following:
- impose a no-fly zone and virtual martial law;
- (illegally) require reporters to stop videoing events;
- slam reporters into Coke machines;
- refuse to give officer badge numbers (which makes me wonder if the ‘officers’ were even wearing badges?);
- teargas peaceful protesters (including MO state representative and a St. Louis alderman, surely credible sources?)
I don’t get this. I don’t get any of it. I don’t understand why the 60s are back, alive & well in Ferguson, MO. Police in anti-combatant gear? Teargas for peaceful protesters? Intimidation and violence by police? This is a city only 6 hours from Tulsa. And far more similar than many white Tulsans would like to believe.
I’m a longtime hippie kid. Now aging, sure. But if anything, more deeply committed to peace, love, understanding. Because I’ve seen what happens when we let our anger, our fear, and the resultant hatred pool like blood between us.
At the very least, the ugliness goes deep and festers. Until it becomes the worst. And at the worst? People die. As they have in Ferguson. What happened to Michael Brown is only the latest (and most devastating) in a tragic spiral of racial tensions in Ferguson. In a city that’s almost 2/3 African American, fewer than 10% (3 out of more than 50) of the police force are black. No black leadership, either: a white mayor and an almost all-white city council. White school board.
As always, I’m left with only questions, no answers. Answers are never the easy part of the equation, I realise. But in Ferguson, it looks like they are only now beginning to even ask the right questions. And I am breathing for them — trying to write through my distanced grief, for the mother & family of Michael Brown, the citizens — both black and white. And for the spirit of poor Michael Brown, who almost certainly never wanted to be this kind of martyr.