What's Going On...

Senseless violence, death, devastation, fear, anger- all the result of the latest black lives taken in the last couple of days.  Add to this the bombings over the weekend in New York that once again struck an all-too familiar terror in our hearts....Our conversations are once again overtaken by a rhetoric of justified outrage, our minds our hijacked by the impossible search to understand how this continues to happen, and our hearts ache for the endless suffering and loss of human lives.

I've spent a few days trying to process this.  Upset that we have become so desensitized as a society that Angelina and Brad Pitt's divorce announcement causes more empathy and outrage than two black men unjustly killed at the hands of police officers, outraged that the death toll from police shootings continues to rise and yet we cynically deny the systemic nature of these killings, and rocked to my core that not but a few days after the anniversary of 9/11 New York endured more bombings; this time those affected directly included refugees fleeing those very bombings.

What's Going On. 

"Mother, Mother there's too many of you crying.

Oh Brother, Brother, Brother there's far too many of you dying.

You know we've got to find a way to bring some loving here today..."

This song by Marvin Gaye was originally inspired by "Obie" Benson's witnessing of police brutality in Berkeley in 1969.  In 2000, a group of artists got together to cover the song in an all-star tribute that included the likes of Bono, Christina Aguilera, Gwen Stefani, Britney Spears, Backstreet Boys, Destiny's Child, Wyclef Jean, and more.  Sixteen years later, the song is heartbreakingly all too relevant.

As I listened to this song, I came across an old poem I wrote in 2006.  I was trying to process the ongoing Juarez Femicides, the ongoing war and violence oversees, and the increasing violence in our own backyard.  So I turned to my pen, and as I read it today, I realize in that in 10 years we still haven't found our humanity.

 

yet to be titled Jan 2006

Yet to be titled Jan 2006

The child stands there a salted tear rolling down her dusted cheek

staring at the back of promises no one here could ever keep

Her mother disappeared three days ago

"she asked too many questions" says the man next door-

Bullets, fire, and rape are part of everyday life

here the church is the president's prostitute; violence his wife..

Yet as long as we go on pretending we can insist

that this child, 'her' world, and 'her' truth don't exist---

Papa never said, "as long as we hold our tongues we won't be the bait"

soldiers never came to say "old man this is your fate."

The government didn't make her family disappear

blame it on the people who won't respond to fear

It's not poverty, corruption or oppression that makes them rise in arms

nor is it cocaine and guns that introduce their sons to harm.

Sadly this type of desperation isn't exclusive to this girl

the sorrow that paid a visit at her door isn't foreign in this world

A couple hundred thousand miles north, another young body's been added to the quota

a 15 yr old girl working for a Juarez Maquiladora-

Another candle burns in company of a shared desolation

questions go unanswered; invoking a climactic desperation

Ignorance is bliss-that's our daily motto

why give a damn about what happens somewhere else tomorrow?

A herd of cows achieves greater awareness, even individuality

I've met strippers, girls at brothels possessing greater morality

Don't question, don't seek, don't strive

don't think about the atrocities committed just to stay alive

We live in a free country, where no one knows the truth

we don't care just give us TiVo to entertain an unproductive youth

Principles, morals, ethics, humaneness, humility-concepts gone out the window

a free people, no strings attached- ideals that have been widowed

That's alright, you digest what they want you to know

drink your dose of lies and slander in your morning Frappucino

As long as the bombs kill on that side of the Atlantic

as long as we're not the ones running in a state so frantic

"They were terrorists"-that's how you sleep at night

while south of here a 13 yr old boy has enlisted in the fight

Wrapped in your Ralph Lauren sheets you slip into a dream

not knowing the shrilling sound of an innocent’s scream.

by,

Icela Nahyr Bracamontes

January 12, 2006 3:52pm

finished January 14, 2006 2:21am

Untimely Farewell

When I was a sophomore in high school, my best friend, Maggie,  told me the song "Drops of Jupiter" was about me.  Having not paid much attention to the lyrics at the time,  I took it to mean that her interpretation of the song reminded her of me because of my constant need to grow and prove face value assumptions of me wrong. And perhaps because of my disparate interests... I never did ask her why she said that song in particular was about me.

Two days ago, sixteen years later, on Friday morning, I received the heartbreaking news that Maggie had passed away as a result of being struck by a DUI driver.  It was surreal to read the news of her death on Friday morning as her name had come up in conversation Thursday morning and I had found myself sharing a story from our youth.  I cried when I read the news link and I felt as if I didn't have a right to cry...I can't imagine the loss and pain her family and close friends must be experiencing.

We hadn't been close in many years, I'd lost touch and that felt terrible.  But I have so many fond memories of her.

I remember one semester in high school she somehow talked me into auditioning to sing at the talent show with her and so for weeks we'd belt out "I Turn To You," on our walks home (never mind that she had the angelic voice and I was tone-deaf.)  We wound up not auditioning, but we did sing the song to our mentor.  I remember another occasion on one of our many walks home, she grew tired of her shoes and just took them off.   That was Maggie.  An untameable free and giving spirit.

She was smart, she was loving, she was a fiercely loyal friend, and she had one of the most generous hearts I've ever known.

I've known few people with an innately unconditional capacity to love the way she could; the way she would.

So, the past couple of days I found myself going through old photos and reminiscing and I listened to "Drops of Jupiter."  I did a little research and found out the lead singer of Train woke up with the first two lines of the song from a dream after his mother passed away.  The song was a tribute to her after her death.

That's when it hit me.

I'm not "Drops of Jupiter." She is. 

"and then she's back in the atmosphere with Drops of Jupiter in her hair."  For some reason this line reminds me of her wavy wild hair....


"Can you imagine no first dance, freeze dried romance, five-hour phone conversation?..."- We would talk nonstop on our 40-45 minute walks home and then again on the phone at home for at least another hour; this is in addition to at school in class, in between classes, and lunch!

In this senseless tragedy of her loss, in the extreme sadness that takes over our hearts from someone so loving being taken too soon; I take the smallest comfort in thinking that she is "Drops of Jupiter-" To picture her "tracing her way through the constellations...," exploring the cosmos, watching over all of us, mosh-pitting with the angels, sending her babies and her family small traces of her presence in the forms of things she loved; coffee, going barefoot, music, the RedSox, Karaoke, and so much more that can't be encompassed by me alone.  If anything has become clear from her loss is that she touched many lives and she will be remembered by many in the most loving of memories.

 "...tell me, did you sail across the sun, did you make it to the milky way and see the lights are faded and that heaven is overrated...and tell me, did you fall for a shooting star, the one without a permanent scar..." (I'd like to picture her spirit experiencing levels of joy and peace that we can't understand down here...)

We will all remember her smile, her innate 'mother-hen' propensity to protect and care for all those around her, her laugh, her opinionated-no-bs-straight talk, and overall the awe-inspiring openness of her heart.

Maggie and I were no longer close when I received this news, but we had once upon a a time in our lives held a twelve year friendship; much of who I grew to be and who I am now I owe to many talks shared with her, and to things she inadvertently taught me about life, friendship, and strength.

I wish I had taken the time to reach out to her recently, that I'd gotten to say goodbye...but that's a selfish thought because in her time on this Earth she undeniably affected so many hearts and we are all lucky to have known her for whatever time we each received.  And I do hope that her babies get to know who their mother was from the stories we all have to share from the different stages of her life before she was so unjustly taken.  When we loose someone; their stories are how we keep their memory alive...

So Maggie, I hope that "..the wind sweeps you off your feet," that you "finally get the chance to dance along the light of day," that you "fall for a shooting star," and that you rest on that "soul vacation."  We will all miss you.

Always,
Popotitos (just for you, Mags)