terrifying joy

8/5/18

sometimes the nuts that roll off the roof hit the ground with such force, I can't help but think they could be hazardous. I imagine getting cracked on the head by one travelling at full force, pinging off of a  tree and smacking me in the noggin. 

it takes some time, often, for me to be able to see the value in a thing that causes such pain.

I had a random thought the other day about the two most intimate things between people being sex and murder. it was a dark thought, and I immediately started testing it after I laughed internally at the sound of it. 

maybe the reason they warned girls it hurt was so that they would postpone a little longer the sharing of themselves in that way. but what of the girls who had no choice in the matter? that story is too common, and yet one so avoided in dialogue. and the moment I start to feel like there is change happening, like people are catching up with their humanity, I hear about a friend's daughter, age 12, who was assaulted at the park. raped. by a teen. who is maybe 13. something is very wrong with this picture. something is definitely not okay here. and yet trying to find justice in the tragedy is like trying to bandage a wound with aluminum foil. 

hearing my friend process the assault, what it meant for her daughter, what it meant for her, what it must have been like to see her own daughter go through the same violence she had experienced. and so young. so young to feel that kind of pain, when the world is still new, when we're just beginning to put together for ourselves some bigger picture of the life we've been born into. 

my mind goes to wondering about the assailant. this boy. this child. who has already made a choice to violate someone in that way. what happened to him? was he born a sociopath? was he raped? was he abused in some way that he is acting out, crying out for attention in his own way? who saves these children? who stops the harm that comes to them? who resolves this situation to avoid behavioral and emotional and physical repercussions? where is the justice? where is the outrage over the violence between children? our babies, I've seen the black women say. so then I think about how many children have been chewed up and spit out by the system--the larger social system or the family system--spit out and left to their own devices by such a young age.

some would say "survival of the fittest." while that works fine for other animals, it doesn't work for us. neither does majority rules. neither does capitalism. neither does any other system that positions power against the people, over the people rather than of the people. justice should not be reserved to the wealthy. equality should not be an issue.

and both of those children better get the help that they need so that they can move on with their lives and feel content in their lives.

is it that we have to feel pain? 

I wish I could convey to my friend's daughter how strong she is. I wish I could comfort her to know that she does not have to be a victim. that though something was taken, it does not mean all of life is taking. it does not mean she is worth any less. that her power, that her grace and beauty and potential does not have to wither inside the pain this asshole has caused. that she doesn't need to feel ashamed. that it wasn't her fault. that it wasn't right. and that even though the system might fail her, even though she will take time to feel a new kind of normal, that she can get through this and embody a force no person can defeat.

My initial response is heartache, followed quickly by rage. But i have to come back to hope. And hoping we all find healthy ways to persevere.