Monday was the fullest day of the trip so far. I began the morning with the very cool opportunity to meet with members of the Manhattan DA Special Victims Bureau's Human Trafficking Response Unit. As I sat in their offices on Centre St., I was struck by how far we've come at Second Life of Chattanooga. From a very small, uncertain beginning, to sharing ideas and best practices with anti-trafficking professionals in our nation's largest city, our little org has definitely come a long way.
The meeting was very helpful, revealing that whether you're doing this work in Chattanooga or New York City, the day-in-day-out aspect of the work is much the same, both in terms of challenges and successes. I really appreciate the time that John and Jen took with me.
After the meeting I had some time on my hands, so I decided to walk over to the World Trade Center. I've not been to New York in 16 years, so the last time I was here, the Twin Towers were standing. The morning of my first trip to New York in 1984, I stood in Windows on the World at the top of the North Tower. The view was stunning. Of course, everyone who worked there on Sept. 11, 2001 didn't get out.
I've had some struggle about whether I wanted to visit the site at all. I went back and forth between my desire to pay my respects, but not wanting to contribute to sacred space becoming nothing more than a tourist attraction. Paying my respects seemed the stronger sentiment, so I walked over to the site.
Two large pools now mark the spots where the Towers stood. The names of everyone who died that die, including those who died at the Pentagon and in Shanksville, PA on flight 93, are engraved on the walls that encase the pools. I took time to read many of the names, thinking about who they were, who they left behind. Single white roses have been left at the site of many of the names.
In spite of the noise of traffic and the tourists visiting the site, I found myself feeling very quiet, even somewhat still. The site reminds me that when rage and hate collide with love and hope, love and hope always win, even if they're tattered and heart-broken. I decided at one point to not fight the tears that kept presenting themselves. It wasn't a flood, but the emotion was strong. Dear God, the least I could do in that moment and place was be vulnerable and open. It was an important time for me.
When I left the site I needed to put myself in a different head-space, so I just started walking. It's important to note that I arrived in New York last week just in time for their first heatwave of the summer, so walking around the city right now is not without its challenges. But, the day was beautiful and I love walking in cities, so off I went. The more I walked, the more I wanted to walk.
I'd never walked through TriBeCa, so I covered that on my hike (running into the actor Taye Diggs while I was there). Seeing New York at street level, taking in the sights, sounds, and smells that characterize the city is in my opinion the only way to experience it. I ended up walking all the way to Penn Station, at least 50 blocks. I was a bit tired, but felt like I'd given myself a gift.
A quick subway ride back to the apartment to clean up from my 50 block hike, then back into Manhattan for some dinner and that night's performance of "Princess Cut." I found GMT Tavern in the Village and had an excellent shepherd's pie. GMT is a neighborhood pub, literally one of those "where everyone knows your name" kind of places. I'll definitely be back there this week.
When I arrived at the theater I was told that the air conditioning was out, a big problem since it's been in the 90's every day with too much humidity. Water was handed out to the audience (our biggest audience so far) and everybody braved the elements. Of course, it was the actors and crew who were the truly brave ones, dealing with a tough environment, and doing so with passion and excellence. Our talkback following the show was outstanding, as my fellow panelists included an NYPD detective (Greg), who heads up his department's Human Trafficking Team, a Supervisory Special Agent from the FBI (Anthony), and the Training Coordinator (Grace) for DayOne, a New York non-profit serving survivors of trafficking.
The interaction between the panel and the audience may have been the best we've had in all of the shows we've done since the play premiered in Knoxville last year. In spite of the far-too-hot room, the talkback was energizing for everyone there. Grace, Greg, and Anthony even talked about how though they're professionals who work on this issue every day, regularly seeing things that can be very disturbing, the play was tough for them to watch, and that the story deeply impacted them. Once again, I am grateful for the favor continually shown Yellow Rose Productions and Second Life of Chattanooga concerning this very important play.
A full, long, gratifying day. I rode the train home that night once again full of gratitude and thankfulness. Tomorrow, Boston.
Wednesday, August 19, 2015
Monday, August 17, 2015
New York Day 3- Conspiracy of Hope
One of the great things about this trip is that I'm getting to cover many parts of the city, either for work or because I have enough free time to explore. Sunday was another such day, as Brooklyn, the Upper West Side, Midtown, Soho, and the West Village were all places where I was able to spend time.
The Upper West Side portion of the day was brunch at SaraBeth's with long-time friends Laura and Hugh Hale. Although I've gotten to see them frequently over the years when we all lived in the same town, it was extra special spending time with them here, as New York is now their home. By the way, the salmon eggs benedict at SaraBeth's is worth the trip. Great conversation with the Hales, and I appreciate their hospitality.
Next stop was Nat Sherman for some alone time and enjoyment of their fine establishment and products, followed by a brief adventure on the subway, where I got on the wrong train and instead of ending up on Bleecker St, I found myself in Queens. A quick jump back on the train and I made it to the theater with a few minutes to spare.
Sunday's show was the second performance of "Princess Cut" during the festival. This one had a unique feel to it from the beginning. Between a stifling hot theater, to someone deciding to walk into the theater, go behind the curtain, and start yacking on his phone right after the show began, I wondered how the cast and crew would deal with less than ideal circumstances.
The challenges made their performance that much more powerful. We talked afterwards about a shared sense of emotion, maybe even heaviness, that was present from the outset of the show. They felt it as actors, and I felt it as a member of the audience who is very familiar with the production. This deep sense of emotion carried over into the talkback session that I led afterwards. We had great questions and observations from both audience members and members of the cast. In fact, I think of all the times we've done this show, yesterday was the first time the cast was able to play a significant role in the talkback time. I'm planning on making this a regular part of all future post-show Q & A sessions.
As the talkback continued, tears showed up for at least a few of those there. The weight of the issue portrayed in the play, discussing what it means for all of us as members of our larger society, as well as our personal and shared responsibilities to turn the tide of trafficking in our communities, pressed down on all of us, causing some to need to emotionalize the weight. I felt the same weight, the same emotion.
I have come to New York desiring to reconnect with a city I deeply love, taking in all that I can of its variety and richness. But most of all, I have come here to work, to be part of what "Princess Cut" is designed to do...create thinking that leads to action on the issue of sex trafficking. It is work I am honored to do, it is work I am called to do. So may the weight and its accompanying emotion continue to show up for me and all of us who feel that calling. But, may we also feel the comfort of those beside us who know that same weight and emotion, knowing that we do this work together, that we are not alone.
And together, we can begin to relieve the weight on those whom this crime has directly and cruelly affected. None of us alone can move the needle on this issue, but together, truly together, with a willingness to take the long view and walk the long road, we cannot only move the needle, we can turn the tide, creating momentum that eventually ends the tragedy of trafficking.
Of course, the only thing that can stop us from doing this is choosing to believe that we can't. And if we choose that, shame on us. Truly, shame on us. But, I believe we can and will choose better, choose light over darkness, life over death, others over our own comfort. And we choose to do this together.
We are a conspiracy of hope.
The Upper West Side portion of the day was brunch at SaraBeth's with long-time friends Laura and Hugh Hale. Although I've gotten to see them frequently over the years when we all lived in the same town, it was extra special spending time with them here, as New York is now their home. By the way, the salmon eggs benedict at SaraBeth's is worth the trip. Great conversation with the Hales, and I appreciate their hospitality.
Next stop was Nat Sherman for some alone time and enjoyment of their fine establishment and products, followed by a brief adventure on the subway, where I got on the wrong train and instead of ending up on Bleecker St, I found myself in Queens. A quick jump back on the train and I made it to the theater with a few minutes to spare.
Sunday's show was the second performance of "Princess Cut" during the festival. This one had a unique feel to it from the beginning. Between a stifling hot theater, to someone deciding to walk into the theater, go behind the curtain, and start yacking on his phone right after the show began, I wondered how the cast and crew would deal with less than ideal circumstances.
The challenges made their performance that much more powerful. We talked afterwards about a shared sense of emotion, maybe even heaviness, that was present from the outset of the show. They felt it as actors, and I felt it as a member of the audience who is very familiar with the production. This deep sense of emotion carried over into the talkback session that I led afterwards. We had great questions and observations from both audience members and members of the cast. In fact, I think of all the times we've done this show, yesterday was the first time the cast was able to play a significant role in the talkback time. I'm planning on making this a regular part of all future post-show Q & A sessions.
As the talkback continued, tears showed up for at least a few of those there. The weight of the issue portrayed in the play, discussing what it means for all of us as members of our larger society, as well as our personal and shared responsibilities to turn the tide of trafficking in our communities, pressed down on all of us, causing some to need to emotionalize the weight. I felt the same weight, the same emotion.
I have come to New York desiring to reconnect with a city I deeply love, taking in all that I can of its variety and richness. But most of all, I have come here to work, to be part of what "Princess Cut" is designed to do...create thinking that leads to action on the issue of sex trafficking. It is work I am honored to do, it is work I am called to do. So may the weight and its accompanying emotion continue to show up for me and all of us who feel that calling. But, may we also feel the comfort of those beside us who know that same weight and emotion, knowing that we do this work together, that we are not alone.
And together, we can begin to relieve the weight on those whom this crime has directly and cruelly affected. None of us alone can move the needle on this issue, but together, truly together, with a willingness to take the long view and walk the long road, we cannot only move the needle, we can turn the tide, creating momentum that eventually ends the tragedy of trafficking.
Of course, the only thing that can stop us from doing this is choosing to believe that we can't. And if we choose that, shame on us. Truly, shame on us. But, I believe we can and will choose better, choose light over darkness, life over death, others over our own comfort. And we choose to do this together.
We are a conspiracy of hope.
Sunday, August 16, 2015
New York Day 2- Thanksgiving
Saturday in New York can provide all the energy or relaxation you choose to have. Mine was a bit of both. The bulk of the day was spent in the Bedford-Stuyvesant section of Brooklyn, which is where I'm staying this week.
Shortly after waking I realized I was feeling something that ended up permeating the day: gratitude. Throughout the morning I had this strong sense that I was deeply thankful for this particular day, and for life itself. It was more than the fact that I should be grateful, but instead a desire to be fully engaged in gratitude and thankfulness.
I spent part of the morning working, then found a grocery store nearby so I could stock my kitchen with a few things. Then it was time for lunch. Whenever I travel I insist on eating at local places, and right around the corner from my apartment is Peaches, a great mashup of soul food and Cajun, with live music to boot. My next-door-neighbor and the bartender both suggested the shrimp po boy and they were right on target.
After lunch I began walking around this neighborhood of brownstones and every kind of shop you can imagine. Street fairs were happening on several blocks, and people were out enjoying the hot, but beautiful day. I planned to walk around the general area of my neighborhood and then head into Manhattan, but the more I walked, the more I wanted to walk.
Although I lost count, a conservative estimate is that I walked at least 60 blocks discovering all that I could in Bed-Stuy. Even better than that, I met so many people who were warm and welcoming, proud of their neighborhoods, and glad that I was here with them enjoying the beauty and diversity of this part of Gotham City. Some of them even stopped me on the street to ask me how I was doing, or remark on the beauty of the day. At Jefferson & Garber stands a beautiful building that used to house an armory, and is now a men's shelter. Two guys were standing in front of it, so I stopped to ask them about the building. They were both named Mike, both in their 50's, and both lifelong residents of the neighborhood.
Mike & Mike welcomed me warmly to their neighborhood, as well as gave me advice on what else I should check out in Brooklyn. The Mike's definitely love Brooklyn. It's God's acreage for them.
A lot of folks were sitting on the stoops of their buildings or in the small courtyards present in so many of the brownstones here. One such person turned out to confirm my sense of gratitude as I walked through his neighborhood. This older gentleman said hello to me, and then in a somewhat halting way he said, "Tank (not thank) God for another day. You know buy (boy), tank God for another day!"
First of all, as a 55-year-old, anytime somebody wants to refer to me as a boy, they're alright with me. But far more than that, this elderly sage/seer sitting on a stoop in Brooklyn let me know that gratitude was clearly the theme of the day.
Later in the evening I headed into Manhattan and had some great Italian food at a midtown place with some of my Yellow Rose friends. After that, I did a walkabout in midtown checking out places I haven't visited in years. The night was clear and the buildings had an extra gleam to them. Grand Central Station was packed with people and energy. I noticed a lot of laughter, even a sense of celebration in the place.
6th Ave. was getting cleaned up after an all-day street fair, also packed full of people taking in the life and energy of this amazing city. A lot of families packed the street, one generation sharing with another generation (or more) the distinct experience that is New York.
Energy, beauty, the stranger being warmly welcomed, these were large parts of my Saturday in the city. But, they all were experienced under the larger theme of gratitude, of thanksgiving. For all of this, and to paraphrase both the liturgy and the prophet sitting on his stoop in Bed-Stuy, "Tanks be to God."
Shortly after waking I realized I was feeling something that ended up permeating the day: gratitude. Throughout the morning I had this strong sense that I was deeply thankful for this particular day, and for life itself. It was more than the fact that I should be grateful, but instead a desire to be fully engaged in gratitude and thankfulness.
I spent part of the morning working, then found a grocery store nearby so I could stock my kitchen with a few things. Then it was time for lunch. Whenever I travel I insist on eating at local places, and right around the corner from my apartment is Peaches, a great mashup of soul food and Cajun, with live music to boot. My next-door-neighbor and the bartender both suggested the shrimp po boy and they were right on target.
After lunch I began walking around this neighborhood of brownstones and every kind of shop you can imagine. Street fairs were happening on several blocks, and people were out enjoying the hot, but beautiful day. I planned to walk around the general area of my neighborhood and then head into Manhattan, but the more I walked, the more I wanted to walk.
Although I lost count, a conservative estimate is that I walked at least 60 blocks discovering all that I could in Bed-Stuy. Even better than that, I met so many people who were warm and welcoming, proud of their neighborhoods, and glad that I was here with them enjoying the beauty and diversity of this part of Gotham City. Some of them even stopped me on the street to ask me how I was doing, or remark on the beauty of the day. At Jefferson & Garber stands a beautiful building that used to house an armory, and is now a men's shelter. Two guys were standing in front of it, so I stopped to ask them about the building. They were both named Mike, both in their 50's, and both lifelong residents of the neighborhood.
Mike & Mike welcomed me warmly to their neighborhood, as well as gave me advice on what else I should check out in Brooklyn. The Mike's definitely love Brooklyn. It's God's acreage for them.
A lot of folks were sitting on the stoops of their buildings or in the small courtyards present in so many of the brownstones here. One such person turned out to confirm my sense of gratitude as I walked through his neighborhood. This older gentleman said hello to me, and then in a somewhat halting way he said, "Tank (not thank) God for another day. You know buy (boy), tank God for another day!"
First of all, as a 55-year-old, anytime somebody wants to refer to me as a boy, they're alright with me. But far more than that, this elderly sage/seer sitting on a stoop in Brooklyn let me know that gratitude was clearly the theme of the day.
Later in the evening I headed into Manhattan and had some great Italian food at a midtown place with some of my Yellow Rose friends. After that, I did a walkabout in midtown checking out places I haven't visited in years. The night was clear and the buildings had an extra gleam to them. Grand Central Station was packed with people and energy. I noticed a lot of laughter, even a sense of celebration in the place.
6th Ave. was getting cleaned up after an all-day street fair, also packed full of people taking in the life and energy of this amazing city. A lot of families packed the street, one generation sharing with another generation (or more) the distinct experience that is New York.
Energy, beauty, the stranger being warmly welcomed, these were large parts of my Saturday in the city. But, they all were experienced under the larger theme of gratitude, of thanksgiving. For all of this, and to paraphrase both the liturgy and the prophet sitting on his stoop in Bed-Stuy, "Tanks be to God."
Saturday, August 15, 2015
New York Day 1
Getting off the plane at Laguardia, I was immediately reminded of one of the miracles of New York City: a lot of people do life in a very small space at a very fast pace. Many people who don't live here complain about the tight spaces and mass of people, but I'm not one of them. I'm always looking for signs of life that are bigger than most of us tend to want to make it. New York City certainly offers you those signs, as well as plenty else.
I'm staying in the Bedford Stuyvesant section of Brooklyn (my first experience with Air BnB, so far, so good), and being here reminds me of how great the neighborhoods are in this city. In the midst of 8 million other people, folks here take care of their small lawns and gardens, talk to their neighbors, have sidewalk sales (the next door neighbors are setting one up right now). Life. Together. What a concept.
Before meeting my travel mates for dinner, I had some time to wander around the West Village and Soho on Manhattan's lower east side. This is such a vibrant, diverse part of the city, very energizing. Dinner at Siggy's was excellent.
We did the opening performance of "Princess Cut" last night at the Lynn Redgrave Theater, our home for the week. If you're not aware, I'm in NYC with the cast and crew of "Princess Cut" for the Fringe Theater Festival. "Princess" was picked out of some 2,000 submissions as one of the 185 plays to be performed during the festival. The play is based on the true story of a Knoxville-area sex trafficking survivor, and is produced by Yellow Rose Productions (check them out at their Facebook page, as well as yellowroseproductions.org). My connection to the play is that since it's premiere last year in Knoxville, the Yellow Rose team has asked me to lead a discussion panel on the subject of trafficking following each performance. We've done several of these shows in Greater Knoxville and Nashville, and now for the next week we're literally one block off Broadway.
One of the things I appreciate about the cast and producers of the play is that they continue to work on the production, and every performance I notice subtle changes, each time for the better. This is a powerful story, unsettling for those who see it, whether it's their first time or tenth time. Last night's performance was unique in that the normal set that would be used for the play couldn't be used due to how quickly one play finishes and another one has to get set up for the next company to perform. This led to the "Princess" cast working with a very bare-bones stage. I know they were concerned about how this would effect the production.
I think they all came away from last night's show knowing they didn't have to worry about impact. The stripped down stage accentuated the power of the story, making it even more raw and personal. You could tell the audience was engaged and effected. I heard some groans and sniffles during the show, and saw tears afterwards. Of course, the action taken after the groans, sniffles, and tears is what matters most.
The after party was a celebration and time to express relief that the first show was done. Even though I'm 2-3 decades older than everyone in the cast and crew, they are great about including me in these celebratory times. Last night's party was made all the better by the fact that many friends and family of the cast and crew were here, including a surprise appearance by some family who came all the way from Iowa for the premiere. It's always a gift to witness golden moments like those.
Day 1 of my New York story was indeed full. The word that keeps resonating in me as a result of the day is community. I both witnessed and participated in it in various forms. Big city. Big life.
I'm staying in the Bedford Stuyvesant section of Brooklyn (my first experience with Air BnB, so far, so good), and being here reminds me of how great the neighborhoods are in this city. In the midst of 8 million other people, folks here take care of their small lawns and gardens, talk to their neighbors, have sidewalk sales (the next door neighbors are setting one up right now). Life. Together. What a concept.
Before meeting my travel mates for dinner, I had some time to wander around the West Village and Soho on Manhattan's lower east side. This is such a vibrant, diverse part of the city, very energizing. Dinner at Siggy's was excellent.
We did the opening performance of "Princess Cut" last night at the Lynn Redgrave Theater, our home for the week. If you're not aware, I'm in NYC with the cast and crew of "Princess Cut" for the Fringe Theater Festival. "Princess" was picked out of some 2,000 submissions as one of the 185 plays to be performed during the festival. The play is based on the true story of a Knoxville-area sex trafficking survivor, and is produced by Yellow Rose Productions (check them out at their Facebook page, as well as yellowroseproductions.org). My connection to the play is that since it's premiere last year in Knoxville, the Yellow Rose team has asked me to lead a discussion panel on the subject of trafficking following each performance. We've done several of these shows in Greater Knoxville and Nashville, and now for the next week we're literally one block off Broadway.
One of the things I appreciate about the cast and producers of the play is that they continue to work on the production, and every performance I notice subtle changes, each time for the better. This is a powerful story, unsettling for those who see it, whether it's their first time or tenth time. Last night's performance was unique in that the normal set that would be used for the play couldn't be used due to how quickly one play finishes and another one has to get set up for the next company to perform. This led to the "Princess" cast working with a very bare-bones stage. I know they were concerned about how this would effect the production.
I think they all came away from last night's show knowing they didn't have to worry about impact. The stripped down stage accentuated the power of the story, making it even more raw and personal. You could tell the audience was engaged and effected. I heard some groans and sniffles during the show, and saw tears afterwards. Of course, the action taken after the groans, sniffles, and tears is what matters most.
The after party was a celebration and time to express relief that the first show was done. Even though I'm 2-3 decades older than everyone in the cast and crew, they are great about including me in these celebratory times. Last night's party was made all the better by the fact that many friends and family of the cast and crew were here, including a surprise appearance by some family who came all the way from Iowa for the premiere. It's always a gift to witness golden moments like those.
Day 1 of my New York story was indeed full. The word that keeps resonating in me as a result of the day is community. I both witnessed and participated in it in various forms. Big city. Big life.
Wednesday, August 12, 2015
New York (and Boston) state of mind
This Friday I'm headed to New York City with our great friends at Yellow Rose Productions. Yellow Rose's original play, "Princess Cut," a true story of a Knoxville-area sex trafficking survivor, is being performed at the Fringe Theater Festival on the lower east side of Manhattan. Each show is followed by a panel discussion that I lead, and we'll be doing 5 performances between Fri. night the 14th and Friday the 21st. Please visit yellowroseproductions.org or the Yellow Rose Facebook page for performance times and location.
I've been privileged to lead the panel for every performance of the play to date, so it's a special honor to be asked by Danielle, Kerri, and the rest of the Yellow Rose team to be part of this special week in New York. I'll be blogging daily while on the trip, covering each performance, as well as the other Second Life of Chattanooga-related meetings I'm involved in while in the city. Plus, I'll be writing about what it's like being back in my favorite city on the planet after not visiting there in quite some time.
I'll also be taking a day in Boston with my great friend Kevin Kokx, so that will be covered as well. I do love me some Beantown.
Hopefully decent pictures will also be a result of the trip, but I make no promises.
I hope you'll enjoy the posts. Please feel free to add your own New York (or Boston) stories to the comments.
I've been privileged to lead the panel for every performance of the play to date, so it's a special honor to be asked by Danielle, Kerri, and the rest of the Yellow Rose team to be part of this special week in New York. I'll be blogging daily while on the trip, covering each performance, as well as the other Second Life of Chattanooga-related meetings I'm involved in while in the city. Plus, I'll be writing about what it's like being back in my favorite city on the planet after not visiting there in quite some time.
I'll also be taking a day in Boston with my great friend Kevin Kokx, so that will be covered as well. I do love me some Beantown.
Hopefully decent pictures will also be a result of the trip, but I make no promises.
I hope you'll enjoy the posts. Please feel free to add your own New York (or Boston) stories to the comments.
Friday, June 12, 2015
Raising the dead
"At this point it's gonna take a Hail Mary." The man saying this to me was describing the zero chance a particular piece of anti-human trafficking legislation had of passing the Tennessee legislature earlier this Spring. He knew this because his job is to keep up with the pulse of what's happening at the state capitol and what legislation will likely gain the funding and votes necessary to pass the House and Senate.
The specific bill to which he referred was something my organization (Second Life of Chattanooga) and our various in-state partners knew that we had to have in order to gain greater traction in our collective fight against human trafficking in Tennessee. The hold-up on this bill was primarily due to funding, although other bills that had nothing to do with life and death matters had been funded.
As the man made his "Hail Mary" statement to me, I experienced 2 things: the first was disappointment, but only for a minute, because resolve overcame disappointment. If a Hail Mary was what we needed, a Hail Mary was what we'd create.
In speaking with other state partners, they felt the same as me. "If we're gonna go down in flames on this, we might as well go down fighting," was our shared attitude. To be honest with you, we were pissed off that such a necessary bill (and those whom the bill was designed to serve and help) wasn't being given the importance it deserved.
We went to work immediately, using every speaking opportunity, every meeting, social media, and email campaigns. We rallied the ordinary citizens, called them to action, encouraged (some might say demanded) them to begin reaching out to their legislators that day. And that's exactly what they did...beginning that day.
We began hearing back from them with stories of them hearing back from their legislators. Within days what once appeared to be dead was showing signs of life. Then the signs of life became more than that. "Oh my God, we might just pull this thing off," replaced the Hail Mary mantra. From dead, to maybe we have a chance, to the bill actually passing in a matter of just a few weeks.
Wednesday of this week I was privileged to stand with several other folks on a stage at the state capitol in Nashville, literally looking over the shoulder of Governor Bill Haslam as he signed a once dead bill into law. Hail Mary indeed.
No one person or organization did this. We did it together. But, we each did what was needed. One individual doing her/his part, linking with other individuals doing the same. No one did anything spectacular, but the outcome certainly was. We dared breathe a Hail Mary. We raised the dead.
Whatever is dead or nearly dead for you, maybe you should rethink that diagnosis. Whether it's an opportunity, a relationship, a dream, a second (or third) chance, maybe someone has spoken too soon in declaring it dead. Maybe the someone is you. Either way, what if the dead could be raised...by you?
Wednesday I witnessed resurrection. It was beyond cool. I want to do it some more. I also look forward to hearing back from some of you with similar stories. Facebook message or email me at jredman@secondlifechattanooga.org.
Raising the dead. I highly recommend it.
The specific bill to which he referred was something my organization (Second Life of Chattanooga) and our various in-state partners knew that we had to have in order to gain greater traction in our collective fight against human trafficking in Tennessee. The hold-up on this bill was primarily due to funding, although other bills that had nothing to do with life and death matters had been funded.
As the man made his "Hail Mary" statement to me, I experienced 2 things: the first was disappointment, but only for a minute, because resolve overcame disappointment. If a Hail Mary was what we needed, a Hail Mary was what we'd create.
In speaking with other state partners, they felt the same as me. "If we're gonna go down in flames on this, we might as well go down fighting," was our shared attitude. To be honest with you, we were pissed off that such a necessary bill (and those whom the bill was designed to serve and help) wasn't being given the importance it deserved.
We went to work immediately, using every speaking opportunity, every meeting, social media, and email campaigns. We rallied the ordinary citizens, called them to action, encouraged (some might say demanded) them to begin reaching out to their legislators that day. And that's exactly what they did...beginning that day.
We began hearing back from them with stories of them hearing back from their legislators. Within days what once appeared to be dead was showing signs of life. Then the signs of life became more than that. "Oh my God, we might just pull this thing off," replaced the Hail Mary mantra. From dead, to maybe we have a chance, to the bill actually passing in a matter of just a few weeks.
Wednesday of this week I was privileged to stand with several other folks on a stage at the state capitol in Nashville, literally looking over the shoulder of Governor Bill Haslam as he signed a once dead bill into law. Hail Mary indeed.
No one person or organization did this. We did it together. But, we each did what was needed. One individual doing her/his part, linking with other individuals doing the same. No one did anything spectacular, but the outcome certainly was. We dared breathe a Hail Mary. We raised the dead.
Whatever is dead or nearly dead for you, maybe you should rethink that diagnosis. Whether it's an opportunity, a relationship, a dream, a second (or third) chance, maybe someone has spoken too soon in declaring it dead. Maybe the someone is you. Either way, what if the dead could be raised...by you?
Wednesday I witnessed resurrection. It was beyond cool. I want to do it some more. I also look forward to hearing back from some of you with similar stories. Facebook message or email me at jredman@secondlifechattanooga.org.
Raising the dead. I highly recommend it.
Friday, May 15, 2015
For BB
There's dirt-poor and then there's the poor into which he was born. Mississippi in 1925, not to mention a prevailing culture at the time that immediately dismissed him because of his skin color. He grew up understanding these realities, but somewhere along the way he dreamed of changing his reality. Then he found the guitar...or maybe the guitar found him.
He taught himself to play it, and since he'd already been singing in his church choir, he added vocals and created a signature sound that was simultaneously sweet and powerful. He sang on street corners, then began getting invited to play a date here and there. He thought if he could get to Memphis maybe he could get on the radio, and then maybe he could cut a record. Of course, he made it to Memphis and the radio and record gigs happened. And from Memphis, he took the blues to the world.
He was part of the musical lineage that produced Muddy Waters, Sonny Boy Williamson, Howlin' Wolf, Freddie King, Albert King, and many other artists who made the Delta Blues the most powerful music the world has ever heard. And of that group, he was the one whose music traveled the farthest, not only in terms of audience, but influence. He was King of the Blues. He was BB King.
His music lit a fire under young English musicians named Clapton, Richards & Jagger. Two brothers from Florida named Allman were also ignited by the same spark, as was a kid from Texas named Stevie Ray Vaughn. Two Irish kids who'd later come to be known as the Edge and Bono heard his music and love came to town. Today young guns like Gary Clark, Jr. and John Mayer are playing BB's licks.
And then there are the rest of us, those of us who discovered him and thought we'd stumbled upon something new, only to later find that he'd taken something very old and primal and made it even more powerful. The first time I heard "The Thrill is Gone" I wondered why I was just now hearing this, even though I was only 16 at the time.
He carried himself with grace and humility. He loved music and he loved people. He always remembered the place he came from, and carried its influence with him everywhere he went. He was friends with Miles Davis, Charlie Parker, and Frank Sinatra, but he never stopped being that shy kid from Indianola.
He left us last night at the age of 89. Everywhere I've gone today he has been part of every conversation. His music and life transcended race, age, and eras. And it will continue to do so. The thrill will never be gone.
Long live The King.
He taught himself to play it, and since he'd already been singing in his church choir, he added vocals and created a signature sound that was simultaneously sweet and powerful. He sang on street corners, then began getting invited to play a date here and there. He thought if he could get to Memphis maybe he could get on the radio, and then maybe he could cut a record. Of course, he made it to Memphis and the radio and record gigs happened. And from Memphis, he took the blues to the world.
He was part of the musical lineage that produced Muddy Waters, Sonny Boy Williamson, Howlin' Wolf, Freddie King, Albert King, and many other artists who made the Delta Blues the most powerful music the world has ever heard. And of that group, he was the one whose music traveled the farthest, not only in terms of audience, but influence. He was King of the Blues. He was BB King.
His music lit a fire under young English musicians named Clapton, Richards & Jagger. Two brothers from Florida named Allman were also ignited by the same spark, as was a kid from Texas named Stevie Ray Vaughn. Two Irish kids who'd later come to be known as the Edge and Bono heard his music and love came to town. Today young guns like Gary Clark, Jr. and John Mayer are playing BB's licks.
And then there are the rest of us, those of us who discovered him and thought we'd stumbled upon something new, only to later find that he'd taken something very old and primal and made it even more powerful. The first time I heard "The Thrill is Gone" I wondered why I was just now hearing this, even though I was only 16 at the time.
He carried himself with grace and humility. He loved music and he loved people. He always remembered the place he came from, and carried its influence with him everywhere he went. He was friends with Miles Davis, Charlie Parker, and Frank Sinatra, but he never stopped being that shy kid from Indianola.
He left us last night at the age of 89. Everywhere I've gone today he has been part of every conversation. His music and life transcended race, age, and eras. And it will continue to do so. The thrill will never be gone.
Long live The King.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)