So I’m standing out at Lighthouse Field in Santa Cruz, California. I’m there with thousands of other protesters. I’ve come with a few friends, all younger than me by at least a decade, and they are at least a couple of decades older than most of the other protesters. My point being, Covid-wise, I have more to worry about than the majority of people around me, and I’m thinking about this because I’ve been sheltering in place for months, my biggest excursions: the grocery store. (Mind you, I don’t like crowds under normal circumstances.) So I’m being careful. I’m standing in the back, doing my best to keep a six-foot circumference around me, though it’s not easy. People are everywhere. Lovely young people with signs. Lovely young people shouting. But I’m not too worried. Fresh air is blowing off the bay, most people are wearing masks, and (so far) Santa Cruz isn’t a hot spot for the virus—we’ve been smart, lucky—so I’m feeling good, inspired, and proud to be among my fellow protesters.
But because I’m so far back, and because there are so many people, I can’t hear what the speakers up front by the lighthouse are saying. So I kneel when others kneel. Raise a fist when others raise a fist. Then a call and response chant begins—only I can’t hear the call, which is “No justice!” I only hear the response, “No peace!” the crowd chants. “No peace!”
Suddenly I’m thrown back to the Vietnam protests of my youth. I was teenager, and the protests I attended were silent because they’d been organized by Quakers, but we were protesting for peace. We held signs: Peace Now! and plastered our clothes and notebooks with peace signs. War is not healthy for children and other living things we posted on our walls. And now here I was yelling “No peace! No peace!” It kind of threw me.
But I get it, I do. Peace isn’t peace unless everyone gets a piece of it, and that can only happen when everyone feels valued, when no one feels singled out or afraid, when everyone believes and is treated like their life matters. It’s a big thought, and there’s a lot of work to do to make this happen. Turns out peace is a little more complicated than we thought back in the seventies.
But out there at Lighthouse Field, I feel like we’re getting a little closer to it, with our fists in the air, our anger and sadness spilling out. As I walk back to my car, I pass another white woman who looks quite a bit older than me even. (Imagine that!) She’s standing way way back, behind a fence, a church at her back. We make eye contact over our masks. She raises a fist. I raise mine.
“No justice!” I call out to her.
“No peace!” she replies.
What a world.
So that’s it for today. As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts.
And remember, live the love, it’s all we’ve got.
I think words matter and that saying things in the positive is the energy we want to create and send out. When all we can hear is “no peace”, that, I think, is the message. I get the concept of the protest language. And if I had my way I would change it to “Justice for all, peace now!” xoxox You go, old girl! 🙂
Missed the protest as it was happening at the same time I flew into my fig tree and broke my wrist…
Becoming self absorbed un those moments.
I was so sorry to miss the protest as I too was at many Vietnam protests in the 60’s
And was proud of Santa Cruz when I read about the protest and how the Chief of police took a knee with protesters
Whoever says things have not changed since the civil rights movement, while true in many places, there were not police taking a knee in those days
So, my heart feels hope in the midst of horror
And to hear that just the other day yet another young innocent black young man was murdered was beyond said
As if I knew him.. this injustice and sheltering in place breaking open the crevices of our hearts
Just to mention also, as a side note, virus has begun spiking and the sadness of the young sheriff killed in santa Cruz mountains…memorial with Cabrillo stadium filled with people…I watched for a few moments the video and amidst sadness, I did not see many masks
Tourists coming as I meet them walking around down here by the beach. I am wearing a mask but they are not
Blessings and love to one and all…when this is behind us I will become a hugging maniac 💚
Miss you , love Tara 🙏🏼💙🌈
Thank you for bringing me to an event I was not present thus, not available to attend. Santa Cruz is a great place! ALL the people and yes, the virus has changed life as we knew it throughout the world. It makes planning impossible but life goes on and so must we, as the best possible versions of ourselves.