Sticks and Stones

I fear we've become a nation of spectators.

As I watched the news coverage last night on the indictment decision for Darren Wilson and the {appalling} coverage of the reactions that followed, I couldn't help but feel I was in ancient Rome, watching a captor fight off a starving tiger in a stadium packed with people.

We call this entertainment.

News media calls it a story.

Others see the opportunity to state their opinions, which are nothing more than feelings and interpretations displayed as facts. If you disagree, you're wrong. Enter the tiger.

Am I the only one aching today for our nation?

No, I refuse to believe that I am. However, I also know that when all the talk has settled, when the streets are brought back to order, when book deals are made and when media moves onto it's next "story," the wounds will still be there, waiting for suture.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.

This is something we tell children to deal with bullying. It doesn't matter what someone says to or about you, as long as they don't physically hurt you. Physical pain can be seen by everyone else, but the emotional pain that words incur, well, that's just all in your head, so keep it there. Let it fester and burn until it takes over and then one day you're the one with the sticks and the stones. Because words don't hurt, so what does it matter what you say?

As spectators, we believe this. We don't think of how we use our words. Their only priority is to get our point across and make it stick, regardless of the method or consequences. We are right because we said so. We feel comfortable using these words in this wretched way without every giving them the chance to do good.

Words are powerful, but we give them the power. However, in this nation of spectators, we've learned to fear power unless it is ours. If the captive with the tiger kills the tiger, what happens? Is the crowd silent? In awe? In fear? Have all their shouting done nothing to improve the ability of the tiger or diminish the perseverance of the captive?

Okay, you may think I've gotten off topic. And yes, to a point, I've sensationalized. Last night, watching the news coverage of the decision and the following riots, we were a nation of spectators. This morning, as the sun rises on the destruction, the spectating continues as people collect on their bets and discuss in detail what they would have done had they been there. Because there is just a place and not where people live, not where children are born and raised. It's just a place on our TV.

And after all this talking, we'll be left with nothing but an empty arena waiting for the next battle.

I, for one, left the arena last night. I turned off the TV, got off the internet (after a call to boycott all media), and I read a book. Was I burying my head in the sand? Readjusting my rose colored glasses away from all the negativity? Yes. I was. I am extremely passive aggressive and the amount of anger everywhere last night made me physically hurt.

So - what do I think? I never met Michael Brown, and I don't know Darren Wilson. I'm not a cop. I didn't grow up with a degrading stereotype against me. I'm not from St. Lois and I wasn't there on August 9, 2014. I also wasn't in St. Lois last night. I wasn't a member of the grand jury. I never saw any evidence. So what's my opinion on it all?

I'm sad. I'm sad for the entire situation, because it's happened before and it will happen again. There will be more news coverage and more riots. There will be more anger and more pain.

Smoke bombs and tear gas disperse crowds, but hate will always stand its ground.

I encourage everyone today, to think before speaking and to speak with reason. Do you agree with the decision? Yes or no? And then what? THEN WHAT? Do you throw a molotov cocktail? Burn down a building? You might think that seems silly, and out of context, it does.

Does that mean the riots and those who took part in it were silly? Hell no. Nor does it mean they were in the wrong. It is simply a nation acting out in anger. And now that we're done, it's time for everyone to put away their anger, roll up their sleeves, and get to work on fixing it.

And I mean everyone. Because this isn't about cops, the justice system, black people, violence or any other random words you can string together to form an instant stereotype. It's about us as a nation. Our nation has a wound this morning. Do we let it sit and fester, get infected? I'd prefer to fix it, clean up the wound and nurture it back to health.

My sticks and stones will break your bones because your words hurt me.

And after the sticks and stone and bones are all broken, then what?

Then what?