Race Relations 101

My voice is silent today. I listen and I discern on the next right steps to take.

I was in The Respect Institute of Georgia from Monday through yesterday.

Graduation is today.

Sitting in this place, then, I give you a poem by a favorite poet Laureate, Mary Oliver:

After Her Death

I am trying to find the lesson
for tomorrow. Matthew something.
Which lectionary? I have not
forgotten the Way, but, a little,
the way to the Way. The trees keep whispering
peace, peace, and the birds
in the shallows are full of the
bodies of small fish and are
content. They open their wings
so easily, and fly. It is still
possible.

I open the book
which the strange, difficult, beautiful church
has given me. To Matthew. Anywhere.

by Mary Oliver

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sunday

I have seen underpasses and abandoned locations near freeways acting as transportation excess equipment “storage” facilities and thought nothing of it until this past week’s Atlanta Highway 85 fiasco.

So I have my theories as to how 3 shelterless individuals were stealing copper scrap for cash and how it most likely flinted, caught on fire and eventually caused the terrorizing explosion.

That the sections of concrete loosened heated melting away from the stablizing beams is concerning to me.

I left early that day to run errands and was riveted to the television news and constant updates.

It reminded me of the 1990 San Francisco quake when Leon Panetta, then CD (17) Representative walked the highways and bridge with his construction helmet. My sister was stuck in traffic that day when the East Bay Bridge stalled.