Dear friends, THANK YOU so much for joining me on this continuing journey of Telling My Age. I see important stories and encouragement for us everywhere I look — and I had a great interview this week that I’m eager to share with you.
But something happened yesterday I can’t get out of my mind, and I think I need to write about it first.
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It took a minute for me to understand what my friend the nonprofit executive director was saying in her Instagram post. It took the words of one of the children in her inner-city art program to make it clear:
“I feel not safe because lil kids can get hurt and die. We have to stay inside and duck down to feel safe.”
A little backstory: Every year, the children/artists of the Carpenter Art Garden in Memphis paint plywood Valentine yard hearts with sweet messages: Love is strong. Peace. Believe in yourself. Be kind. And my personal favorite: Let’s hug and hug forever!
Then, on the day before Valentine’s Day, they attach each plywood heart to a stick and fan out across the neighborhood to plant the hearts in their neighbors’ yards.
Not this year.
“Gun violence is (unfortunately) a daily occurrence for our children and community, (and it happens) regularly during programming time now,” my friend Jazmin wrote. “It has become a thing that we must talk about while fixing bikes, while cooking, while making art. It is a thing we must always prepare for. We are tired, sad, and concerned for this city and neighborhood that we love.”
So instead of planting hearts around the neighborhood, this year the children marched down the street — not even an entire block — and planted all 100 hearts in their Memorial Park (with mosaics by the children/artists) at the corner. Everyone was invited to come.
Time was, an invitation like that would have gone right past me, even if I saw it. Not for me, I would have thought. I don’t have time, and besides, there’s really nothing for me to add. The children of Carpenter Art Garden don’t really need anything from me.
Maybe it was the childish printing of the “I feel not safe” message, but my heart broke wide open yesterday and I realized I’ve been wrong.
ALL children deserve to feel safe, and, as an adult, it’s my responsibility to show up for them. Walk next to them. Speak out for them.
Shame on us grown-ups that we have let the scourge of gun violence get so out of hand that little children are afraid in their own neighborhood on a sunny Tuesday afternoon. That they have to stay inside, when they were meant to be outside to play and run and grow.
Shame on ALL of us.
When I arrived for the march, right after school let out, there were kids and parents on foot everywhere; the Art Garden is right down the street from a school. Police cars lined the street, too, and the adults who were marshalling the children were on edge. “I hope we can get the kids down the street and back safely,” one told me. There have been gun incidents in the neighborhood nearly daily.
Of course, the best thing about hanging out with children is that they’re, well … children. Complete with rose-colored heart glasses, they pounded their hearts into the mud and clamored to have their picture taken. They shouted out their wishes for their neighborhood: “Joy.” “Peace.” Then they walked back up the street, ready for snack time and to make more Valentines.
The hearts looked great, all massed together. They spoke messages of hope on a difficult corner.
I hope you’ll see them, too.
As Jazmin wrote, the day after the march:
“We've been struggling with this. But we are so hopeful. And colorful. And humbled to have your love and support on a day like this.”
NEVER.
Especially sad since just when you were posting this, an armed crazy person was shooting dozens of innocent fans in Kansas City. Even with 800 armed police/guards onsite. More guns is never the answer.