W. AFRICAN RESTAURANT & CARRYOUT

DISPATCH TWO

This is where Joe and I found ourselves after the March For Our Lives today.  A small business near Howard University, with seven tables - packed with people ordering take out and sitting for service as well.  Run by husband and wife, Amara and Isata Sumah, we were made to feel at home immediately.  They are from Sierra Leone, but as we sat and listened to the chatter around us - we realized that we were hearing all kinds of African dialects.  A large screen tv had on MSNBC and  Joy Reid was reporting from the Mall as the march wound down. (More about this later).

Mr. Sumah, asking if we were first-time visitors brought us a sample plate of rice with the various sauces they serve on top of it - so we could taste them all before we ordered:  okra, egusi, peanut butter, potato leaf, kale, spinach and krain krain (jute leaf).  He also told us that we wanted to try the ginger beer - which was homemade.  Everything was incredibly delicious, and he kept returning to make sure we were happy and taking our time to enjoy it.

The march itself I am still processing - probably will be for days.  But as I sat in the restaurant looking around, I couldn't but wonder what people were thinking.  People from different countries, people of color...as these young white people, spoke from the stage.  They (the young people) were aware of it - and it was also spoken about at the prayer vigil last night.

"We recognize that Parkland received more attention because of its affluence," Jaclyn Corin, a survivor of the Parkland shooting, said in her speech. "But we share this stage today and forever with those communities who have always stared down the barrel of a gun."

Checking their privilege, there were also powerful speakers from Chicago, LA, DC, and NYC.  Violence is not located in any one country - but the kind of gun violence we experience in this country is (among developed countries) higher than anywhere else. 

One of the most powerful speakers of the march was Emma Gonzales.  She stood silently on stage for six minutes.  The length of time it took the shooter to kill each of his victims at Parkland.  It was painful to watch.  It was eerily as painful the second time when it was replayed in the restaurant as we sat among the other customers.  Two minutes in - everyone in the place was silent - or speaking in hushed tones.

Like I said, still processing.

BONSAI TREES AND PRAYER VIGILS

DISPATCH ONE:

In Washington DC for the March For Our Lives tomorrow.  Over a million people are expected.  Groups of young people spent the day visiting their legislators and walking the mall, the city, the monuments.  I did a couple things that I needed to do to prepare:  visited ancient bonsai trees at the National Arboretum and attend a prayer vigil at the National Cathedral tonight.

The oldest tree in the collection was tended by the same family since 1625.  It survived the bombing in Hiroshima.  In 1976, it was given to the American people in honor of the bicentennial.  It is still thriving.  These little trees - so carefully tended - outlive the generations of those who care for them.  Like these ideals we struggle with - a world in which peace towards each other, rather than violence against one another - is the norm.

"We come here this evening to affirm that we are connected by an 'inescapable network of mutuality' and 'tied in a single garment of destiny.  And whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly'   it does not matter how large the city or how small the town -- trauma and sorrow claim far too many of our citizens.  For too long the tears of frightened children, the cries of inconsolable parents and the weariness of long-suffering neighborhoods have been ignored.  We declare on this day that our nation must turn from this patth of fear and destruction. 

With all who join us - in cities and towns across this land - we here this night proclaim together in one voice:

From so many heartbreaks comes forth a united commitment to go into the streets of our cities and towns and promote a way of peace and well-being for all people.  With compassion sown from the threads of sadness and horror, we will mend a nation tattered by gun violence and weave a new cloth of hope and peace."

 

The bonsais are a reminder of the careful tending we need to commit too - generation after generation.  The prayer vigil reminds me that it only works when we come together. 

Good night.