Call and Response. (Updated)

Call and Response.

(Updated with new spilled Blood…)

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I found it necessary to update Call and Response. More Blood has spilled on asphalt and dusty parking lots. More Hate rampages down big hi-rise canyons and echoes in forests from North to South. And for some reason we must keep sharing and talking and making an attempt  to keep it real and loud and never cower back into the shadows in fear.

What is Call and Response?

It is ancient to all of us. We don’t see it or taste it and even recognize it but it is there. Call and response is in our genes

Call and Response is musical. It is verbal AND non-verbal communication between a speaker and a listener. The Speaker can be an individual, a thought, a group, and emotion. A Listener can be one or it can be many. It could be the Earth. It could be the Dark and the Light responding.

In ancient cultures, in African cultures long after the Earth cooled and we roamed the forest looking for survival, it was a distinct pattern of democratic participation in public. It was a shared experience. Call and Response is a foundation for our religion. It is inherent in every aspect of our lives.

We have all taken part in the ritual. The Teacher calls, we respond. The child cries, we react. The Media fills us with images…enzymes flow.

Can I get an Amen?

Raise your hands and give Him praise!

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Social Media is a dynamic world. Like Einstein’s blackboard, waits in silence for a spirit to be stirred.

Here is an example:

Call:

Marquita Nicole (OP)

On Race Relations

Calling out police brutality and racially motivated killings is a bandwagon that most jumped on when Trayvon Martin, a boy, someone’s son, our son, was killed. When we heard a grown man say to another to leave the boy be only for the listener to disregard and discharge his weapon. A bandwagon. Because it has not stopped since Europeans first encountered Africans, or Arabs, or Indigenous Americans or…I digress.

What I mean to say is this: I read someone’s statement that Obama (thanks Obama) took race relations back 50 years. I implore them, and any others who hold this as a truth, to know that people have been killing minorities with impunity for centuries. There was no glory period. What happened was social media and a bandwagon. It became cool (be honest, you know it’s true) to call out police brutality and racist killings, and social media made it possible for everyone to have a voice. So even though it is a bandwagon, the hashtag was one of the best things to happen to whatever this movement will be called in the future. It brought people together… Whites and Blacks march when we lose someone so unfairly, and Latinos and Native Americans and Asians… We march together because most of us “have nots” have not had a chance to be so expressive, to be so connected.

So…no… I don’t believe race relations have ever been better. No more lies, and no more self-hate (hopefully and thanks to artists who are making a stand) no more omitted history where it can be helped, no more one sided tales. and that is what seems to be people’s problems… They want everyone back to a time where we were sheep, where we didn’t call out sexism or racism or classism because we didn’t feel connected. It’s the connectedness that’s making folks scared…

And you gotta ask yourself why.

Response:

M, this challenge, this problem is so deep in our souls. It is in our blood, it is present like a virus in nearly everything we touch, in our schools, in our speech and in our politics.

Racism, Classism, hate, sexism, fear and hopelessness permeates our existence on the Planet.

(Stick with me.)

We just found 3 kittens. Cat Mom came from one house up the street. Cat Dad came from a house behind us.
They used our bushes in our front for a sexual encounter. She left. In a few days we saw kittens popping their heads out of the bushes.
Our desert was hot, very hot.
Bunny caught them one at a time and the kittens took over one of our bathrooms. They act like kittens. They play with string, each other and they bat and chase the balls we have left for them.
I tore up paper towels and Bunny put it in a container. I will be damned but they hop in, do their business and hop out.

We eventually purchased cat litter and they use it faithfully.

Why? How do they know?
They are frightened of coyotes but hop up to us.
Why?
I think (and I have been told) it is because that is how Cat Mom and Cat Dad and previous cat ancestors lived. It is deep in their kitten psyche. It is deep in their genes. It is something kittens just know.

I wonder about our fears of those different than us. I live in a Mexican/White neighborhood but I know that enzymes are triggered when I see a black person on my streets. I was not raised in hate or bigotry, but I would be the first to admit, our problem goes much, much deeper than a check mark on a form. African American, Latino, Asian, American Indian, White. We have 10,000 years of fear, supremacy’s, and something almost genetic to overcome. Fear then Hate is almost in our genes.

Almost.

I am lost. People old enough to read this are lost. We can change the Call, we can direct the Reponse until we manage to get back on the path.
The Change must start in the preschools and carry through to University. We must experience the world and reject those that would divide us. Responsibilities run deep, changes take generations.

I don’t want to project political outcomes of Presidential election…but suppose a candidate does not win. One candidate or maybe two candidates lose a chance to lead our Country. They are one person, maybe two.
But what we are left with is millions of fervent believers in the losing candidates. We are left with millions of people who are angry at the status-quo, who fear the new leader, who hate the new direction.

We (our Country) are left with an Army of the Disappointed and Angry. We are left with a Revolution. We might be left with a million Brown Shirt Reactionaries and an equal number of left wing Revolutionaries or both.

We are left with a conflict and two different Calls and two very different Responses.

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It is almost, ALMOST overwhelming.

I don’t believe in bringing together Community Leaders.

I don’t believe in bringing together religious leaders.

I don’t believe in locking arms and singing Kumbaya.

It has passed that point.

Acceptance of empty words delays the reality until the near time, the next the disease rears its head.

Maybe burning it down to the ground and each group heading to their burnt corners is the only answer. I told a group the other day to be careful if they wished for Revolution, because the opposition they despise may come out on top.

And then what?

Maybe the Elder Orange haired Business man’s Revolution, if carried out, is the answer. Face our fears, manifest our hate with action, build our walls, bring our Country back and acknowledge the future with our collective teeth clenched in both defense and offense. Win at all costs.

Maybe the old Elder White Haired Statesman’s Revolution, if carried out, is the answer?Loosening the deathgrip of the 1%, the Wealthy Class, the Corporations on our underclass necks and returning the power to the people is the answer? At least we might get a chance and if we could survive the opposition and the threats and fear and the constant harping of the media, we might move the dial and head in the right direction.

Or maybe we start with the children.

We educate them, we teach them critical thinking, civics, love, how to solve problems without hate and guns and knives and bombs, how to hug those around them. We teach them patience and eventually if we keep a firm grasp on love and tolerance and selflessness, we might be able to last, to survive until the last of the hate smolders in the ground, that the fortresses of separation and segregation crumble to dust and the evil fades into the bad memories of human history on this planet.

But this takes time. It won’t happen overnight. You and I may never see it. But we can continue to push, to light a path, string together words in prose and poetry and speak of the dream of a better place.

We must face that this is a big problem and bigger than we can even imagine. We can not expect change by standing around the Fallen locking arms and singing Kumbaya.

As long as there is money and power in our separation, there will be separation.

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A friend tells me that he recognizes there is a force, an ancient force that uses their powers of hate to induce fear, that uses their sword to divide the races, the sexes, the wealthy and poor. They control us through division. They fill our minds with screams and drown out the voice of love and togetherness and equality. We don’t even know why we hate them. They shoot us…we bleed. We shoot them…they bleed. The Blood is the same. We are the same and we learn too late.

This force might be the Media, the Political World, those that control from behind the curtain. The Force may be the People who have always run the world in their vision and stand behind those we think are in charge.

The Force in whatever shape it takes, issues a powerful Call. We Respond.

My friend calls the force of division Satan or the Devil or Evil that is diametrically opposed to the Good, to God, to what should be. We start on a path, the path divides and we must make a choice. Some go left. Some go right. Some sit at the crossroads. Maybe that is me. I am an Atheist. I am not sure that right is good for me, nor left. I believe through our Social Evolution, we have reached a point where we may no longer answer the questions we ask.
I question right. I question wrong.

I sit at the crossroads unable to choose a direction. The division of the path is the call. My response is uncertainty.

All I am sure of is that we must change the Call to the children and let them respond in their innocence, devoid of the staining we mar on their spirits. They are the future. They are the Hope.

They are our Tabula Rasa.

“Turn out the Light

(We have no fear)

Turn out the Light

(We see angels and fairies in the dark)

Stuart Welch

 

 

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