Nama-Stay In Bed...

In the wake of two more men of color being killed by police doing their jobs of serving and protecting, and subsequent retaliation against colorless(?) Dallas police officers by a disturbed former soldier, at the very end of what had been a unifying and peaceful demonstration, shock has settled into my bones. I take to heart the pithy saying emblazoned on my sister-in-law’s night shirt:

“Nama-stay
in bed.”

Ostrich-up for a bit. Let the ache in my marrow, head, and heart subside.

Then what?

Had I known about the local demonstration in Oakland which closed down the Nimitz Freeway in both directions Thursday evening, I might well have joined the protestors.

Enough is… well... waaaaaay too much

Are we tipping into all out race wars? Civilians against an increasingly militaristic police force? Powerful against powerless?

National Public Radio carried a story about police in Scotland who do not carry guns; only mace. The reporter said Scotland has more knives per capita than any other country in Europe, yet police go virtually unarmed into their daily rounds. They DO practice the first technique I learned in Model Mugging, a self-defense course meant to empower women, which is to de-escalate the charged atmosphere when emotions are running amok, and to use calming posture, gestures, words, and facial expression. Diplomacy first. Guns ...maybe never. Is never good with you?

The invitation to write questions or comments on the radio station’s web site went by too swiftly for me to write it down, but I wanted to share this observation.

Highly structured organizations, such as the military and police forces, are magnets for folks who’ve experienced a lot of early trauma in their lives. Structure feels predictable. It is an antidote to the chaos of a disruptive childhood. Reliable regimented schedules and behaviors feel safer than the chaos in which many young ones steep in their family of origin. This is not to say that all soldiers and all police officers are traumatized, but only to recognize the allure of highly regimented professions for those who have a significant trauma history.

What happens when we put highly traumatized people into uniforms, hand them guns, and ask them to step into chaotic street scenarios? We get to watch their fight, flight, freeze kick in.

For the most part, training protocols extinguish flight and freeze, so the default setting becomes fight which, when the adrenaline of survival energies get stirred, can cause some less than optimal interactions.

Bless their hearts, soldiers and cops swear an oath to protect and serve, putting their own lives on the line whether in Kabul, Bagdad, Baton Rouge or Dallas. We appreciate their willingness to fight for us. We do not appreciate the warping of their judgement that can cause their trigger fingers to kill innocents - either because of unhealed traumas of their own, or through their acts of perceived self-preservation.

An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.

National Rifle Association says more guns would solve the problem.

Dallas’s police chief says officers wear armor that is bullet proof only for hand guns. It cannot protect those who serve from rapid fire, high-velocity machine guns.

If these recent events don't tip legislators finally to recognize the folly of allowing artillery machines to be easily available to the mentally ill, the further devolution of society is ensured.

I confess to the fantasy of using Wayne LaPierre’s image for target practice… just a fantasy, but it helps the marrow, heart and head lose the ache. I guess the scenario in my imagination helps discharge my pent-up rage and thwarted fight response. Don’t hand me a real gun, please.



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