Sunday Morning Thoughts About The PSA Project

It has been a challenge but not just the ones that I anticipated. Finding time, yes that is a constant. To find the time to think, assemble and create always kicks me in the pants. Two working days and five to create would help. Unfortunately my life is currently structured the other way around.

There are other things as well. The subject matter. The more I read about violence, violence against men, violence against women and all the inter-linking problems associated with violence is a huge big toxic soup. That isn't correct. It is how much I'm able to digest before I become numb or even worse, despondent over our collective survival.

I have limits about how much I want to ingest. Reading about how much anger some black men have toward black women is heartbreaking. Misogyny doesn't come close to what is out there.

Behind that anger there is pain. What are we not hearing? Is it our responsibility to even try to listen at this point? Is this something that women should be concerned about? Why to we have to fix ourselves and them too? Is it time to structure a new life beyond "the haters?"

I Have An Example

Many years, almost 25 years now, I lived in an apartment building. There was a couple above me. Quiet folks, both worked.

One night there was a loud angry ruckus above me. Furniture breaking, a man cussing a woman out of her name and humanity. Punches. I heard everything. I thought it was an intruder so I reached for the phone. Then I heard it. "I am your husband, you do as I say. I don't want to heard anything come out of your M-F'ing mouth. You do for me!"

I took my hand off of the phone. You see, at the time what I was taught was that if you hear some guy beating a woman that was between them. You didn't call the police. If the woman managed to get outside and ask for help you could do it then but behind their doors, nope you couldn't do it.

For the record, if you hear or see one person beating the hell out of another person CALL THE POLICE!

Anyway, I saw the woman the next day. Half her face had been beaten. You know what she did? She smiled at me as if nothing happened. I nodded a half smile back. We were complicit in a deception. A deception supported by religion, education, business and culture.

There are many stakeholders in making sure there is control over the treatment of women, men and dollars. If they financially benefit from the sublimation of women there is no vested interest in stopping. If they produce music that cause young men to kill themselves because they live in perpetual fear there is no reason for them to change the content of the product.

There is a lot of deception going on. This must change, generally by the light of truth. I can start with me. I can do what I can do and I will. I'm still figuring things out. Trying to make the process simpler so that it can be replicated.

It seems in addition to awareness there also has to be, I don't know how to say this, but a grounding in self-love, self-esteem and being secure. Emotionally secure. Spiritually secure. This is not the same as religion, I'm talking about something to the effect that a person intrinsically knows he or she is loved. Faith based or self generated, I don't care. However you get there. There has to be more than consumption to fill the void.

So. Yeah. The violence is real. If it is in your face you have to deal with it. It is also a symptom of deeper problems. How can each one of us, in the space we have, resolve the actual problems?

There are ways. But is there willingness? I have so many damn questions it isn't funny.