(re)Birth

These lyrics keep going through my head: 

“Stop!  What’s that sound?  The death rattle of this crazy old town.  Stop!  Where ya been…”

Change is never quiet.

Birth is not quiet.

It is violent, painful, messy.

The impulse to stay in   place

and look the other way

accept the status quo

That impulse is hard to fight.

If  I can’t even “make” my family see my point of view

or influence their behavior

how can an oppressed people change the conversation for millions?

How can there be people

who think it’s okay to go full force

and murder a jogger in full daylight?

(because there are no consequences)

To end someone’s life?  Kill them in their home when they are asleep?

(offer no apology)

To deprive someone of air until they are dead

(while others look on)

It is unbelievable.  That this happens in America today

In full sight, without outrage.

Despite my disbelief, despite my reality

It happens.  It is.  A fact.

So how do we change the conversation?

How do we break has become commonplace?

It is time, past time, to resolve this. 

I believe we are seeing the death throes of the privilege enjoyed by those

who are covered by their skin tone and place in society

Who have favorable circumstance

Who break laws and oppress others with impunity

I hear roar of protest

I hear the drumbeat of change

I pray we are witnessing rebirth

And I hope this can be done without bloodshed

It is frightening

and hard to understand why and why now.

But think – a man, most men

cannot fathom how unsafe the world is for a woman

who is seen is prey

All the precautions we take to protect ourselves are illusionary

We are abused and hurt and weaponized

Multiply that 1000 x 1000 x 1000

for people who stand out because of their color

who know at any minute

their lives are forfeit.  Who walk a tightrope of fear and hope

That they will live to see daylight.

Who are never allowed to forget

that they are here on sufferance.  They walk among us at OUR pleasure

not because they are equal, but at our wish.  They are less than.

How angry I get when I am disrespected and minimized.  When I am seen as less than

Because of my age and sex

(In that moment I have a powerful urge to kill the one who is killing me)

But I only get a fraction of what others receive

And in any circumstance I have privilege, being white, upper middle class, educated.

This is a long standing battle

built into human nature

the struggle and clawing

for more status.  For precedence.  And the belief is that only comes if someone else is less than.

It’s not going to go away

and life will not be the same.

The fire is laid and the tinder is ready

for violence, messiness and rebirth.

Revolutions are never neat

And resolutions are hard to find