Pachamama Pondering, 2022; Photos: CVPA Vigil, Town Hall Meeting
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
Thank you, Ellie! Peace, James
On 10/31/2022 9:04 AM Ellie Stock via Dialogue <dialogue@lists.wedgeblade.net> wrote:
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
PACHAMAMA PONDERING, 2022
One more time the alarm shrieks! (Ironically, paralleling folks’ being attracted to Halloween week’s scarey, shriek-filled haunted houses and horror flicks, and faux death skeleton and ghost yard décor, while, simultaneously, shying away from engaging with life’s real scarey issues) Another mass school shooting! This time, it happened (well, it doesn’t “just happen”) in Central Visual Performing Arts HS, St. Louis, MO (still dealing with implications from Michael Brown’s death, Post WW II radiation waste contaminating Jana Elementary School and other places, and having one of the highest murder rates in the U.S.): 3 dead: a 16 year-old girl, a teacher and an isolated 19 year old shooter, a former graduate, plagued by mental health issues; 7 others injured, mostly young life, facing the unexpected real horror of : “YOU are going to die!” by long gun—acquired via lax state regulation, maximum capacity cartridge, 600 rounds of ammunition— now a long crimson line of school terrorism stretching from here to Uvalde, Parkland, Sandy Hook, etc., etc. etc. to Columbine.
The next evening, I look around the intermingling, interracial Vigil crowd, gathered under moonlit shadows, outside the school a place of learning, growing, enjoying the arts, a place of discovering, developing and deploying the gifts of young talent; now a crime scene of bullet holes and shells, shattered walls and windows and scattered belongings abandoned as panicked, shrieking students quickly ran for safety, barricading doors and jumping out windows; now mostly calmly quiet with an occasional sob or wail or car revving by, honking in solidarity, black, yellow and white balloons reaching skyward, tethered to lit candled hands, flames flickering in the wind, cascades of wax tears, dropping to the asphalt covering PACHAMAMA as she also weeps.
PACHAMAMA pondering . . . Preachers and others invoke the name of Jesus, (or whatever other name or tradition may be present) praying for comfort, healing, peace, justice, words of accountability for the litany of gun violence in this nation, for impotent politicians and a public that choose guns and death over safety and life, for the sickness of this society—enough, already!— words spoken about being community and supporting one another, interspersed songs, lamenting—How long, O Lord?— words lifting up the name of each person killed and injured, and those who heroically rushed to the scene to stop the shooter, sad and angry words of hurt, broken, and traumatized souls, mothers grieving from the depths, echoing PACHAMAMA’S lament for this Pandemic of Empire and Colonialism: violence and racism, nationalism, autocracy, aggression, and greed that fabricate lies and threaten to destroy the fabric of families, communities and nations: Mother Emanuel AME, Tree of Life El Paso, Las Vegas, and Boulder, Iraq, Afganistan, Yemen, Syria, Somalia, Sudan, Ukraine, Russia, etc., etc., etc.— their predecessors and successors.
PACHAMAMA pondering . . .
The loud speaker bleeps off and on, muffling some words, making others unintelligible, yet one does not have to hear them to know what is being said. Candles melt down as balloons perk up, earnestly alert for the signal to be launched heavenward where some hope their loved ones are waiting. And, finally, in a cathartic expression of memory and hope—Lift Off!— a cluster of sparkling dirigibles, airborne, gently separating, filling the sky and fulfilling their mission, dancing with stars, temporarily escaping the bonds and suffering and pain.
PACHAMAMA pondering . . .
Humanity’s violence spills beyond itself— seeping into the land, water, air— destroying ecological systems and irreplaceable Beings while fossil fuel and other invasive mining, contaminate, infect, poison, and suffocate, heating the planet, melting glaciers, causing erratic storms, drought, and fires and increasing the wealth-poverty divide, conflict and warfare. Climate refugees flee homelands for an uncertain future; carbon dioxide, nitrous oxide, methane gas erupt, food and supply chains are disrupted and disrupt, shortages abound as fields become barren and mighty rivers run dry— another Pandemic of devastation
PACHAMAMA pondering . . .
But wait, there’s more . . . COVID and other deadly diseases continue to evolve and mutate, killing millions, many in their prime, rooting where protocols are not honored, where vaccinations are neither welcomed nor equitably distributed, a Pandemic tide of germs, surging and ebbing, perhaps waiting for a more opportune time to discretely emerge and merge with a populace that defends individualistic freedom over vigilance, the Common Good and the well-being and freedom of All.
PACHAMAMA pondering . . .
The next night, the Scene segues from the school grounds to a Town Hall Meeting on gun violence and schools and bullying, hosted by a U.S. Representative, where more words are intoned and gods invoked in a citizen-filled room— school administrators, teachers, preachers, politicos, students, first responders, parents (including the mother of the girl killed), feeling powerless, trapped in a cycle of unrelenting violence and unraveling of civilization, looking for answers, for wise and bold leadership. A panel of speakers portends business as usual until a young lady on the dais, a senior at CVPA, rises to her feet. Incredibly poised, she passionately and prophetically reads her Truth to Power, a letter of proclamation to the Representative, and demands 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, postmortem speeches, and funeral eulogies! No more Cross and Stars of David memorials, stuffed animals, votive candles, and balloons. DO SOMETHING to create SAFE SCHOOLS and SAFE NEIGHBORHOODS with equitable resources, SAFE COMMUNITIES and A SAFE NATION! DO SOMETHING! NOW! And a child shall lead them . . .
PACHAMAMA pondering . . .
And, finally, to close the gone-overtime, anxiety-fraught meeting, more words are spoken and then, a Word Benedictory: we are all connected and are all called, for such a time as this, to live into our connectedness and interrelationship; words of gratitude for those who came and who care, who show up day after day, year after year, who have a vision of working together, who overcome paralyzing fear, despair, and powerlessness, who bridge polarizing politics and passionately and compassionately pour heart, mind, soul, and strength into creating resilient communities and a world of equity and justice for all our relatives— animal, vegetable, and mineral, who carry within and elicit from others the unfolding adventure of an ever wondrous Creation Way of Possibility, Hope beyond hope and Love unconditioning, Truth consistent with Earth’s Truth, Peace, Wholeness, Shalom, turning swords into plowshares, instruments of death into tools cultivating Life.
As the crowd exits and trickles into the night, into separate domains and spheres of influence, many wonder: just mere words, their urgency and agency eventually fading and fizzling or real change this time?
PACHAMAMA pondering . . .
ejhs 10/29/2022
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participants (2)
-
Ellie Stock -
JAMES ADDINGTON