Thursday, August 12, 2010

Parable of They Will Come

Parable of They Will Come
If you build, they will come--from Field of Dreams

They are coming to Academy of Da Corner. In agitated states of mind, they come. They do not give their names or say hello, how are you, they just come and begin talking as if Plato is an old friend who knows them, although he does not, though they may have seen him standing on the corner for years. Most have never said anything to him before today. But they are now in his face spilling their guts, their trauma and grief. He listens patiently, saying nothing.

A father said his son was shot in the arm last week while walking with friends at the BART subway station. The father said his son had been shot before, ten times in the chest, but survived. After recovery, the father and son confronted the killer. The son lifted his shirt and showed the villain his wounds.

He told the shooter he forgave him, then turned as if to go, then turned back around and shot the shooter in the head, spilling his brains on the ground. The father and son walked away. The father said he felt no remorse.

Another person came to Plato Negro. He didn't say hello, how are you brother, As-Salaam-Alaikum. He began talking as if he had an appointment with the street doctor: he said the FBI was harassing him. Wherever he travels throughout the US, the FBI follows him. He said they were following him because his father was a pimp and gangsta. The father was serving 24 years but was about to be released. The son said he didn't know the dark side of his father, he thought he was a square who went to work, but pimping was his other life.

He couldn't understand why the FBI was harassing him, but Atlanta was the only city that assisted him regarding the harassment. The Atlanta FBI directed him to a lawyer for assistance.

A woman came up to Plato Negro and also began talking without saying hello or anything, like she knew Plato from way back, though he couldn't recall talking with the woman. She told him welfare killed the black family, especially the black man. She said it was a trick by the white man to destroy black people.

Plato told her we were not brought here to have healthy, stable families, although some of us are able to maintain stable families, but none of us have a clean bill of health--we are all victims of traumatic stress slave syndrome--not post because the slavery is still active and real with wage slavery and virtual slavery or involuntary servitude under the US constitution when incarcerated. And the white man is sick as well with his full blown addiction to white supremacy racism and domination. The woman agreed and continued down the street.

Plato stood on the corner thinking about his own trauma and grief. For some reason a friend came to mind. When two friends came by he shared with them what was on his mind: the memory of his friend William Carlyle who joined the ancestors a few years ago. He was a hustler and theology student. While hustling T shirts on the street, he got into a dispute with a woman over a T shirt he'd sold her. She departed but came back with some friends who beat down William with a baseball bat, then robbed him. He later died at the hospital from a blood clot in his leg as a result of the beating.

He was a conscious brother who sought knowledge at every turn. As he made big money hustling, he would pay a person to share knowledge with him. He was a student at Berkeley's Graduate Theological Union. The two brothers also knew William but said they had no idea how he died until now. They agreed he was a good brother who should not have died like a dog.
--Marvin X

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