[Dialogue] Pachamama Pondering, 2022; Photos: CVPA Vigil, Town Hall Meeting

Mon Oct 31 09:04:36 PDT 2022

Hi Folks,

Below is: A Reflection:  PACHAMAMA PONDERING, 2022, on the 10/24 mass shooting at Central Visual and Performing Arts High School in St. Louis.
Attached (if you can get them) Photos:  CVPA Vigil, Balloon Release, Town Hall Meeting

PACHAMAMAPONDERING, 2022

 Onemore time the alarm shrieks!

(Ironically,paralleling folks’  

beingattracted to Halloween week’s

scarey,shriek-filled haunted houses and horror flicks, 

andfaux death skeleton and ghost yard décor,

while,simultaneously, shying away from engaging

withlife’s real scarey issues)

Anothermass school shooting!

Thistime, it happened (well, it doesn’t “just happen”)

inCentral Visual Performing Arts HS, 

St.Louis, MO (still dealing with implications

fromMichael Brown’s death, Post WW II radiation waste

contaminatingJana Elementary School and other places,

andhaving one of the highest murder rates in the U.S.):

3dead: a 16 year-old girl, a teacher and

anisolated 19 year old shooter, a former graduate,

plaguedby mental health issues;

7others injured,

mostlyyoung life, 

facingthe unexpected real horror of : “YOU are going to die!”

bylong gun—acquired via lax state regulation,

maximumcapacity cartridge,

600rounds of ammunition— 

nowa long crimson line of school terrorism 

stretchingfrom here to Uvalde, Parkland, 

SandyHook, etc., etc. etc. to Columbine.

 Thenext evening, I look around 

theintermingling, interracial Vigil crowd,

gatheredunder moonlit shadows, outside the school

aplace of learning, growing, enjoying the arts,

aplace of discovering, developing and deploying

thegifts of young talent;

nowa crime scene of bullet holes and shells,

shatteredwalls and windows and scattered belongings

abandonedas panicked, shrieking students quickly ran for safety,

barricadingdoors and jumping out windows;

nowmostly calmly quiet with an occasional sob or wail

orcar revving by, honking in solidarity,

black,yellow and white balloons reaching skyward,

tetheredto lit candled hands,

flamesflickering in the wind, 

cascadesof wax tears,

droppingto the asphalt covering PACHAMAMA

asshe also weeps.

 PACHAMAMApondering . . .

                                                                                                                                                      Preachersand others invoke the name of Jesus,(orwhatever other name or tradition may be present)

prayingfor comfort, healing, peace, justice,

wordsof accountability 

forthe litany of gun violence in this nation,

forimpotent politicians and a public

thatchoose guns and death over safety and life,

forthe sickness of this society—enough, already!—

wordsspoken about being community and 

supportingone another, 

interspersedsongs, lamenting—How long, O Lord?—

wordslifting up the name of each person killed and injured,

andthose who heroically rushed to the scene to stop the shooter,

sadand angry words of hurt, broken, and traumatized souls, 

mothersgrieving from the depths, echoing PACHAMAMA’S lament                                                  for this Pandemic of Empire and Colonialism:

violenceand racism,

nationalism,autocracy, aggression, and greed 

thatfabricate lies and threaten to destroy

thefabric of families, communities and nations:

MotherEmanuel AME, Tree of Life

ElPaso, Las Vegas, and Boulder,

Iraq,Afganistan, Yemen, Syria, 

Somalia,Sudan, Ukraine, Russia, etc., etc., etc.—

theirpredecessors and successors.

 PACHAMAMApondering . . .

 Theloud speaker bleeps off and on, 

mufflingsome words, making others unintelligible,

yetone does not have to hear them to know what is being said.

Candlesmelt down as balloons perk up, 

earnestlyalert for the signal to be launched heavenward

wheresome hope their loved ones are waiting.

And,finally, in a cathartic expression of memory and hope—Lift Off!—

acluster of sparkling dirigibles, airborne, gently separating,

fillingthe sky and fulfilling their mission, dancing with stars,

temporarilyescaping the bonds and suffering and pain.

 PACHAMAMApondering . . .

 Humanity’sviolence spills beyond itself—

seepinginto the land, water, air—

destroyingecological systems and irreplaceable Beings while

fossilfuel and other invasive mining, 

contaminate,infect, poison, and suffocate,

heatingthe planet, melting glaciers, 

causingerratic storms, drought, and fires                                                                                      andincreasing the wealth-poverty divide,conflictand warfare.

Climaterefugees flee homelands for an uncertain future;

carbondioxide, nitrous oxide, methane gas erupt,

foodand supply chains are disrupted and disrupt, 

shortagesabound as fields become barren

andmighty rivers run dry—

anotherPandemic of devastation

 PACHAMAMApondering . . .

 Butwait, there’s more . . .

COVIDand other deadly diseases

continueto evolve and mutate,

killingmillions, many in their prime,

rootingwhere protocols are not honored,

wherevaccinations are neither

welcomednor equitably distributed,

aPandemic tide of germs, surging and ebbing,

perhapswaiting for a more opportune time

todiscretely emerge and merge with a populace

thatdefends individualistic freedom over vigilance,

theCommon Good and the well-being and freedom of All.

PACHAMAMApondering . . .

 Thenext night, the Scene segues 

fromthe school grounds to a Town Hall Meeting

ongun violence and schools and bullying,

hostedby a U.S. Representative, where

morewords are intoned and gods invoked

ina citizen-filled room—

schooladministrators, teachers, preachers,

politicos,students, first responders,

parents(including the mother of the girl killed),

feelingpowerless,

trappedin a cycle of unrelenting violence

andunraveling of civilization,

lookingfor answers, for wise and bold leadership.

Apanel of speakers portends business as usual

untila young lady on the dais, a senior at CVPA,

risesto her feet.  Incredibly poised,

shepassionately and prophetically reads her Truth to Power,

a letterof proclamation to the Representative, 

anddemands that something be done:  Control the guns!

Stop the killing!  Enough is enough!

No more excuses!  No more thoughts and prayers and vigils!

No more political posturing, postmortemspeeches, and funeral eulogies!                                  No more Cross and Stars of Davidmemorials,stuffed animals, votive candles, andballoons.

DO SOMETHING to create SAFE SCHOOLS and

SAFE NEIGHBORHOODS with equitableresources,

SAFE COMMUNITIES and A SAFE NATION! 

DO SOMETHING!  NOW!

Anda child shall lead them . . .

 PACHAMAMApondering . . .

 And,finally, to close the gone-overtime,

anxiety-fraughtmeeting,

morewords are spoken and then,

aWord Benedictory:

weare all connected and are all called, 

forsuch a time as this,

tolive into our connectedness and interrelationship;

wordsof gratitude for those who came and who care,

whoshow up day after day, year after year,

whohave a vision of working together,

whoovercome paralyzing fear, despair, and powerlessness,

whobridge polarizing politics

andpassionately and compassionately

pourheart, mind, soul, and strength into creating

resilientcommunities and a world of 

equityand justice for all our relatives—

animal,vegetable, and mineral,

whocarry within and elicit from others

theunfolding adventure of 

anever wondrous Creation Way of Possibility,

Hopebeyond hope and Love unconditioning,

Truthconsistent with Earth’s Truth,

Peace,Wholeness, Shalom,

turningswords into plowshares,

instrumentsof death into tools cultivating Life.

 Asthe crowd exits and trickles into the night,

intoseparate domains and spheres of influence,

manywonder:  just mere words, 

theirurgency and agency eventually fading and fizzling 

orreal change this time?

 PACHAMAMApondering . . .

 ejhs

10/29/2022

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