Are You There God, It's Me Voodoo
I really wanted to sit down and write something down about my thoughts on the events of 9/11. I walked through campus today and I thought about that day, not so long ago. I was teaching then, as I am now, and I found myself in a class lecturing and stopping to look into the eyes of my students, hollow and empty. I put my lecture aside and stood in front of the 30 students and asked how they were all doing.
Earlier that day, we went to mass as a community. We filled the church to capacity, students, staff, faculty and others. Just earlier this week I went to that same mass, and it was barely one-fifth full. Same mass. Same tradition every year. We were struggling to get a grip and understand the ramification of such action. Some were angry, some were jumpy, and many were scared. The presiding priest furrowed his brow and spoke gently about the struggles of coming to terms with our reality, shattered and changed:
Today violence has rocked this country in ways previously unknown by us, and sent shock waves around the world. What is a one-time occurrence for us is woven into the fabric of daily life for our
brothers and sisters in Africa, Northern Ireland, Palestine, Iraq and the former Yugoslavia.
I sat still in church and felt that resonate in my core being...to live in terror and in fear of what is to be on a daily basis...this brought me to my knees and I couldn't even begin to fathom that saying I throw around a lot: your blues ain't like mine. After mass, I went to class and stood before staring eyes. What could I possibly give them in this moment and in this time?
I spoke to the students as I always do, straightforwardly and with what humor I feel necessary, and we went on with the lecture afterwards. And one student followed me to my office, and she could only sit in my chair and ask me questions. Questions I still ask myself: what is going on in this world? am I ever going to be safe? why do people have to do this? what are we going to do?
I have rage, to be certain, about how the world is, and how naivete shattered makes you want to reach out and strangle someone for bringing the world crashing down. I have rage over unjustified deaths, both American and otherwise. I have rage over stupid decisions. I have rage over promises long forgotten. Over leaders who have seized this moment for personal gain and spinning reality into a bizarro us and them world. I have so much rage.
I've lived with these thoughts over the years trying to make sense of them and the place and space I'm currently in. And what sticks in my head the most is the look on the faces of the youth in that room: distant, scared, shocked, fearful. But what sticks in my head even more is that this is how many parts of the world live every freaking DAY. As a counselor I know that living in this persistent state creates a way of being that is short on hope and high on fear and that is no way to live. And that's not okay.
I asked God, "What is the answer?"
And God said, "I can't give you that answer."
Can't or won't?
You have everything you need to know the answer.
You're not answering my question.
Since when have I ever given you a straight answer.
No shit.
Mos def, no shit.
I pondered that. So I would know the answer, right?
Sure. You're smart.
The world-
Yes?
-is full of people who think they're right, but in their own sort of way.
Right...
And too right to listen...
And too right to want to give up.
Katrina didn't teach us anything. The war isn't teaching us anything. The way the world hates us isn't teaching us anything. The leadership isn't teaching us anything. I struggle with all of this, and it's making me frustrated.
The thing is, you can't get frustrated about this.
I know I can't. But there is one thing I'm doing -
Is there now, I have got to hear this. God laughs.
It's like this - I can change the world one person at a time, and give them reason to hope, to see the future, to feel that they are positive parts of the world. It takes a very simple steps, nothing complicated. But the hard thing is that I have to fight those feelings of hopelessness myself.
Because you know as well as I do that your people will see through you if you don't.
No shit. They know.
And that's what has kept me going these last five years in the face of despair, in moments of doubt, and in the asking of questions that don't have answers. Hope. Hope that helps me wake up in the morning, hope that gets me out of bed, hope that gets me looking dead square in the eye of my students and asking them what they world is going to be like when they get out there. Because I'll help them get there if only because someone has to make this world right. Right now it ain't that way.
Good luck.
Thanks, I need it.
Voodoo
PS: Btw, G says Hi.
Sup, G. don't trip off what others say.
What's that supposed to mean?
That was for her, not you.
Shit.