Lights in the Darkness

Someone asked me to write about the Hurricane to ring my own perspective to it. I’ve thought about it. I have had thoughts. And I pulled out a sketch pad to write them down. But nothing really came. For the past week I’ve absorbed the coverage everything from the network news to the cable shows. I have looked at the pictures of the disposed and saw internet boards of people searching for loved and letting people know they were okay. I’ve seen and heard about people doing what they can for the people in need and seen those in power do very little. I have seen grown men cry at the futility of their Herculean actions. And I have seen women and children lost. There has been talk of looters and snipers and the scenes I have witness make it look as if it is some other country; a place not my own. I really don’t know what I can add to the situation. I don’t think words or even simple gestures can answer what happened. And like in many cases it wasn’t the storm but it was what came after that made this worse. There were signs and reports detailing the possibility that this would happen and that this kind of devastation was likely. As I write this I keep stopping and starting; my feelings and observations keep coming and mingling. I keep thinking about the fact that there were lines for gas because of rumors about gas shut-offs. I am pissed a how the market doesn’t dip down in value and how Wall Street can see such hope in all this mess. I ‘m mad that at the beginning of this every damn cable news channel called people refugees when they are citizens of these United States. I’m mad at any foreign pundant, reporter, or person who sees this as punishment for the “crimes” of the US against the world. I am mad as hell that I can’t cry when looking at scenes of children and grown men and women begging to be rescued. I want to now why aren’t; why didn’t we move haven and earth to protect are people. I sick of people saying they are doing everything possible when they aren’t doing a thing. I hate that I can’t add expletives to describe the level of disgust at how my black people have said nothing. I’m mad that that no one has stopped, just stopped and mourned or just broke something. I’m mad at how this had made me realized my powerlessness and my callousness toward my fellow man. I want to hug everyone who had to make the hard choice of letting go of that hand or the one who decided to let go. I agree with the mayor of New Orleans when he said that there should be a moratorium on press conferences; especially those that are only made to show leaders “doing” something. I want to see at least one person in charge ask for forgiveness and say they weren’t there that they should’ve been. I want to agree with Clarence Paige when he said we failed because we did not and do not protect the least of these. I want to thank God that we here in Memphis didn’t suffer the fate of those in the lower half of the Mississippi. I want to thank all those around the world who offered help and comfort and prayers. I agree that their was a racial aspect to this and I don’t care if that’s popular. I wish to god that I had the words to say everything that’s in my heart; but I know I can’t. Nothing ever promised but I know there is a light in the darkness and a peace in the valley.