light a candle for the kids, JESUS CHRIST! don't keep it hid!
I'm gonna try this one more time:
So I went on Thursday to this event called Take Back the Night that spoke out against domestic violence and sexual assault and related crimes. There were singers and speakers and things, and mayoral candidate Donna Frye spoke as the keynote speaker, even though she kindof didn't leave politics out of it, but she did look very hip and she wore Chuck Taylors and said she wore Chuck Taylors to city council meetings, which was her main reason for voting for her. So she didn't really stay on topic but she was funny when she wanted to be and she obviously cared enough to even make it out. And then there was more music, and quick poems, and short announcements and AS Presidents and the like before they got to the feature presentation, which wasn't Donna Frye but the audience testimonials. At first, only a few people lined up, but in time there was a line so big I think they had to cut it off, and mostly women but some guys too got up there, revealing, retelling, reading, demanding, exorting, teaching this is what happened to me. Now that I think about it I don't think anyone cried. The ones I remember the most were the people who sort of looked at the ground, like they weren't quite sure what they were going to say, but they must have been more sure than anyone else there, and then they would sort of look up, and look around a little bit while talking, very even, almost crying or just very unsure, you know, with no self-pity, almost amazed at their own thoughts, in recollection, not arrogant, just, oh, well wow, please just know this. One of them said, "some people say I've got everything, but don't judge me, what I've been through is hard for me, and I'm sure what you've been through is hard for you." And its just hard, she was saying, and I felt like she just wanted peace and togetherness real bad, and she wasn't interested in preaching anything. Of course, I thought about myself most of the time, but it was hard to be defensive most of the time, and I judged people on style not substance. Not that I should judge people. One thing was scary. A lot, most, maybe, of the stories involved alcohol and passing out. One guy told this story about how he shouted at these guys to stop undressing a passed out girl and they broke his face but in the end the girl didn't get raped. And I thought I don't go to parties, but if I did, I'm not sure I would do the right thing. I mean, I wouldn't want to interrupt their privacy, I mean, its their room, or they probably know each other, or I just didn't know they're together; their are always lots of reasons not to say anything. I want my spine back, I thought. I was amazed at how open everything was, I wondered what just saying what you thought all the time would be like.
Then at the end, when they had to cut off the testimonials, they said we were going to march around campus so the rest of the campus would know that we wouldn't stand for sexual assault or domestic violence, and they shouldn't either and we were going to sow the seeds of an assault-free community. OK, walking, I can handle that I thought, but then they started giving instructions, and passing out picket signs and these programs with chants on them and they said that we all had to shout, we practiced and it was miserable and they said we had to shout louder. So I wasn't so sure, a little put off to be honest. I felt like I might as well protest myself, but why should I bother innocent bystanders with it. Anyway, they pointed us off in yonder direction and told us to follow these two girls over yonder and so I went over yonder, just started walking because even though I wasn't so sure about the chanting and the signs I thought the directions were easy enough. There were like... fifteen people out of a couple hundred that followed directions immediatley, the rest caught up, kindof, but we made three unwieldy groups--like an essay kindof, intro body and conclusion. So when the leaders started with the chanting there was no getting away from listening to yourself, since all you could hear was the fifteen people and the body and conclusion were chanting something else. I tried chanting, but I just couldn't do it. It's just not me, I told myself, so I just didn't chant, I just walked cause I'm pretty good at that. The thing is I wasn't really opposed to the chants, there were a bunch of them, it was just the tone that irked me. It was like, we were news or something. Hey, hey, ho, ho, sexual assault has got to go. Who were we kidding? or, how did just saying it prove anything? So we kept walking and they kept screaming.
Then something changed, I don't know what, but I thought that chanting at protests and singing songs at church were the same thing, neither of which I'm of much a mind to do, but I started chanting. I liked it better like a question so that's how I chanted it. Not a question, more like a supposition. I thought that the reason Christians play everything in those same cords and it sounds the same and the lyrics are simple is because the tone is a bit better than chanting, but its the same idea. Hey, hey, ho, ho, sexual assault has got to go. I thought it was silly to think we would change anybodys mind, but really, the chants weren't about changing other peoples minds. I don't think so at least, they were more like simple statements that we could fill with ourselves and offer to God. Hey, hey, ho, ho, sexual assault has got to go? I mean doesn't it? I mean I hope we don't live in a world with sexual assault, I mean, when the world started, or after the world ends, I mean, I hope who we are isn't Sexual Assault. Right? I'm mean, if there is a decent God, sexual assault has got to go, right? I mean, in the beginning, there wasn't sexual assault. So I started chanting, not too loudly, not screaming, but firmly, I thought, and later Daniel and Scott caught up to me and I was glad I didn't have to wonder whether or not I should be chanting with them around; they chanted too.
The end.
So I went on Thursday to this event called Take Back the Night that spoke out against domestic violence and sexual assault and related crimes. There were singers and speakers and things, and mayoral candidate Donna Frye spoke as the keynote speaker, even though she kindof didn't leave politics out of it, but she did look very hip and she wore Chuck Taylors and said she wore Chuck Taylors to city council meetings, which was her main reason for voting for her. So she didn't really stay on topic but she was funny when she wanted to be and she obviously cared enough to even make it out. And then there was more music, and quick poems, and short announcements and AS Presidents and the like before they got to the feature presentation, which wasn't Donna Frye but the audience testimonials. At first, only a few people lined up, but in time there was a line so big I think they had to cut it off, and mostly women but some guys too got up there, revealing, retelling, reading, demanding, exorting, teaching this is what happened to me. Now that I think about it I don't think anyone cried. The ones I remember the most were the people who sort of looked at the ground, like they weren't quite sure what they were going to say, but they must have been more sure than anyone else there, and then they would sort of look up, and look around a little bit while talking, very even, almost crying or just very unsure, you know, with no self-pity, almost amazed at their own thoughts, in recollection, not arrogant, just, oh, well wow, please just know this. One of them said, "some people say I've got everything, but don't judge me, what I've been through is hard for me, and I'm sure what you've been through is hard for you." And its just hard, she was saying, and I felt like she just wanted peace and togetherness real bad, and she wasn't interested in preaching anything. Of course, I thought about myself most of the time, but it was hard to be defensive most of the time, and I judged people on style not substance. Not that I should judge people. One thing was scary. A lot, most, maybe, of the stories involved alcohol and passing out. One guy told this story about how he shouted at these guys to stop undressing a passed out girl and they broke his face but in the end the girl didn't get raped. And I thought I don't go to parties, but if I did, I'm not sure I would do the right thing. I mean, I wouldn't want to interrupt their privacy, I mean, its their room, or they probably know each other, or I just didn't know they're together; their are always lots of reasons not to say anything. I want my spine back, I thought. I was amazed at how open everything was, I wondered what just saying what you thought all the time would be like.
Then at the end, when they had to cut off the testimonials, they said we were going to march around campus so the rest of the campus would know that we wouldn't stand for sexual assault or domestic violence, and they shouldn't either and we were going to sow the seeds of an assault-free community. OK, walking, I can handle that I thought, but then they started giving instructions, and passing out picket signs and these programs with chants on them and they said that we all had to shout, we practiced and it was miserable and they said we had to shout louder. So I wasn't so sure, a little put off to be honest. I felt like I might as well protest myself, but why should I bother innocent bystanders with it. Anyway, they pointed us off in yonder direction and told us to follow these two girls over yonder and so I went over yonder, just started walking because even though I wasn't so sure about the chanting and the signs I thought the directions were easy enough. There were like... fifteen people out of a couple hundred that followed directions immediatley, the rest caught up, kindof, but we made three unwieldy groups--like an essay kindof, intro body and conclusion. So when the leaders started with the chanting there was no getting away from listening to yourself, since all you could hear was the fifteen people and the body and conclusion were chanting something else. I tried chanting, but I just couldn't do it. It's just not me, I told myself, so I just didn't chant, I just walked cause I'm pretty good at that. The thing is I wasn't really opposed to the chants, there were a bunch of them, it was just the tone that irked me. It was like, we were news or something. Hey, hey, ho, ho, sexual assault has got to go. Who were we kidding? or, how did just saying it prove anything? So we kept walking and they kept screaming.
Then something changed, I don't know what, but I thought that chanting at protests and singing songs at church were the same thing, neither of which I'm of much a mind to do, but I started chanting. I liked it better like a question so that's how I chanted it. Not a question, more like a supposition. I thought that the reason Christians play everything in those same cords and it sounds the same and the lyrics are simple is because the tone is a bit better than chanting, but its the same idea. Hey, hey, ho, ho, sexual assault has got to go. I thought it was silly to think we would change anybodys mind, but really, the chants weren't about changing other peoples minds. I don't think so at least, they were more like simple statements that we could fill with ourselves and offer to God. Hey, hey, ho, ho, sexual assault has got to go? I mean doesn't it? I mean I hope we don't live in a world with sexual assault, I mean, when the world started, or after the world ends, I mean, I hope who we are isn't Sexual Assault. Right? I'm mean, if there is a decent God, sexual assault has got to go, right? I mean, in the beginning, there wasn't sexual assault. So I started chanting, not too loudly, not screaming, but firmly, I thought, and later Daniel and Scott caught up to me and I was glad I didn't have to wonder whether or not I should be chanting with them around; they chanted too.
The end.