a call for help
“There's a lot of ugly things in this world, son. I wish I could keep 'em all away from you. That's never possible" Atticus Finch It lives close by. For the few, it’s kept at bay for a lifetime. For most of us, there is at least one close encounter and many near misses. For all of us, from birth to death, it lurks within our peripheral vision, with its ubiquitous threat. Violence. I grew up in household where it seemed to explode out of nowhere, rocking the house and shaking me to the core. This was during the decade where it also came through the television in relentless waves. At seven I witnessed my President’s killer shot dead in real time in black and white. My generation grew up with that hopeless little screen pulsing it to us directly, uncensored and unfiltered. As an adult, my body has felt its impact only when I’ve faced it down. Taking action against it often has meant putting myself in its way and wake. I’ve been shoved, hit, choked, and gassed as a result ...