Well, dear ones, its been over a year since I've been in this town and a bit more than that since "the incident" at the RNC last year. (I'm never really sure about how much I can say about it online, so if you have no idea what I'm talking about, you can always watch this video. But if you do know, I say, why bother? There's no reason to spoil your lunch if you don't have to.) Our criminal charges have long since been dropped, but we're here to give our testimony in a deposition with opposing counsel, which basically is a out-of-court session where you have to answer all their questions under oath. I've been nervous about it for weeks, which is probably why I haven't said much about it. I'm like that sometimes when I'm nervous.
Right now, even as I write this, Jason is in there giving his deposition. He is so calm and composed about it. He's done this kind of thing before for his child custody stuff, for one thing, but even if that weren't the case I think he'd still be cool as a cucumber about it. For him, he says, its like a game. There are rules of the game that you follow, but other than that, its like a battle of wits. Just stay cool and composed. Answer the questions without volunteering any extraneous information. Be honest and clear. Don't ever lose your cool or show emotion. The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth... not one word more. Do that, and you win the game. Do something else, and you may not.
I get that -- but I'm still nervous. I know what the truth is, in my heart, but I'm afraid of making some stupid mistake that slips off the tongue. I'm afraid of saying too much, of wanting to explain myself, or wanting to convince somebody of something, which is not necessary or desirable in this situation. But mostly I'm afraid that going through the deposition and having to answer all these questions and remember the incident in exact detail will re-traumatize me and undo the work of healing that I've been engaged in for a year and a half now. The further I get away from the incident, and the more that I heal, the more I become aware of how harmful it was to me to experience the whole thing-- and I don't want to go back.
At the same time, there's also a cool fury in my heart right now that makes me really want to do a good job today, to really speak up for what is just and right and good for all people. Something new came out in one of the videos that is very disturbing (again, I'm sorry for being so vague) and I feel angry as well as all of the painful emotions. I want to do a good job today because I want something to change, I want for this to never to happen again to someone else. Which is a rather naive desire, because these things happen all the time. For some really frightening reading, take a look at "Zapping Taser... The Lawsuits" Many of these people died from taser attacks less violent than what Jason suffered. Which is, of course, just tasers. There is of course many other kinds of police violence that leads to suffering and death for people from all different backgrounds, but especially people of color and the poor.
It's horrible to think that Jason could have died that day. Of course, it is also a beautiful blessing that he did not, and that he's safe and healthy and able to go in and do his deposition right now, even as I type this, cool as a cucumber. But that thought haunts me sometimes, the thought that I might have lost him just like that, on that day, at the hands of people who are supposed to be protecting us. My whole life might have been shattered that day, and it is only because of the grace of the Goddess that it was not. That's such a haunting thought, one that haunts me everyday, and even though I'm immensely grateful my gratitude does not negate the fact that what the police did might very well have ended his life that day, and that it wasn't because of anything that they did that it did not.
I've always thought that doing this trial would bring me more closure, perhaps even help me move into a place of greater compassion and loving-kindness towards the police and everyone else involved, all Thich Nat Han style. And perhaps it will. But before that, it seems, there are more gory details and painful truths to encounter and courages required.
Alright, here I go. I'm ready. Wish me luck. Charge up that magical golden web y'all created for us when we were in jail. I can't wait to be home again, dancing with y'all in the streets and in the fields, making magic, playing music.
Until then, many blessings,