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.
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
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