12.24.2014

"If you haven't done anything wrong, you wouldn't be afraid of the cops and you wouldn't run/fight/resist."

Alright then. Think back to elementary school. You are sitting in your red plastic chair, reading your SSR book when the principal walks in. "(Your name), follow me to my office," he says in a booming, authoritative voice. Your head spins. You always do your homework, you never copy anyone else's answers, you sit still and listen, and you don't take other people's things. "I didn't do anything wrong!" you think, but then you second guess yourself. Maybe you forgot one of the rules. Maybe there was a new rule that no one told you about. Maybe the principal could read your mind and knew that you said naughty words in there! The entire class stares silently as you walk out. You are now convinced that you've committed a million different infractions and scared out of your mind.

The principal stops in the middle of the hallway to chat with a teacher. He is turned away from you for a full thirty seconds. If you were to run, you would be out the door in ten or fewer. You are eight years old and terrified. What would you do? 

If you were a more level-headed child, as I doubt many of us were, you might have realized that the principal might be pulling you out because you've done something good.

Police rarely stop anyone to point out how well-behaved they are.

You are fifteen, walking to a convenience store after dark because your parents aren't home yet and you really want some Fritos. All your lawnmowing money is in one pocket of your black hoodie, and you're walking fast because there have been muggings recently and you're a bit on edge. You aren't paying much attention to your surroundings. Suddenly, a police officer hustles around a corner and directly into your path. You are startled. You try to move past him, but he orders you to stop. Your head spins again. Your father told you once that the police were useless in your town. They didn't care who was guilty or innocent, everyone was a criminal in their eyes. He said that the best thing to do was to stay out of trouble and never give them a reason to notice you. Whether or not that's true, you are afraid. You don't use drugs, shoplift, get into fights, or drive unlicensed. You wonder if the cop could have somehow found out about the beer you sneaked at your friend's house last weekend. Or maybe he knew that you knew your older brother smoked pot on Friday nights and didn't turn him in. But you are a bit more rational now, and you realize the cop has no reason to hold you- but he could find one if you stick around. While running through potential reasons, you have missed the officer's instructions. When you take off, the only thing in your head is pure fear. However, while running through possibilities in your head you have missed the officer's instructions, and he now has reason to hold you.

Fear is a basic human reaction, and it occurs even when there is no rational reason to be afraid- more so when one has been taught to be afraid, whether or not that fear is warranted in reality. When people are afraid, they distort and misjudge situations and even surrender to the fight-or-flight instinct. This is a basic fact of human nature. Instinct works first, conscience works later. Reasoning and higher order thinking are severely compromised when a person is afraid.

Furthermore, if it is reasonable for a highly trained and experienced cop like Darren Wilson to become so irrational under fear that he sent six bullets into an unarmed man, then how can we expect the average citizen of a protesting community, raised to distrust and fear the police and entirely unaccustomed to high-risk situations, to hold on to their rationality when approached by police? Resisting arrest is a crime, but is in no way a sign of an unclean conscience.

(tumblr repost)

12.19.2014

I wonder...

https://seventhvoice.wordpress.com/2014/12/10/the-gas-lighting-of-women-and-girls-on-the-autism-spectrum/

12.18.2014

Writer's block.

After an exciting evening of bright lights and loud applause, I sought to relax the only way I know anymore - the TV blaring, every light on, holding four conversations at once. Turn everything on and shut it out.

Mindless, totally mindless. I open a window and close it again. I will not change tabs until something is written.

Make sense of the static. We treat increasingly more stimulating things as background noise for our indolence. How, then, are we to learn to turn our minds off?

Here in the silence, every idea that had formed melts away like frost on a sunny day.

You cannot pull poetry out of a void, it comes from the world and into you. Every image and analogy already exists somewhere in the aether. Your job is only to channel and transcribe it.

I think there might be some ideas somewhere, pushing against the boulders I haven't figured out how to move yet. I can see their spindly black legs poking out from the cracks. They haven't the room to fly. Perhaps if I seek to begin something else they will find their way out.