the screams...
I live in an amazing place-I love living here, I love the house, the landscape, the proximity to things that are happening, the short commutes to work, the lack of traffic like that in LA and SF-the variety of ethnic food that is available, and the sounds of "living" close to other people who are different in background from me..
BUT, the screaming.
Living between a battered women's shelter, a daycare, a community center, a law office and a large extended family--I hear screaming almost every day. Sometimes, I can tell that the screams are happy-a game of chase, some kids playing monsters or ninjas, balloons, joy; but, more often, the screams sound terrifying. I do not fault the kids at the shelter for screaming. I assume that is what they have always known, that they have heard so much screaming that it's the only way that they know to get attention and to communicate-I hear that. I can usually tell when a new woman has come to the shelter by the unfamiliar screams of her kids. The boys seem to scream as much as the girls. I hear the crying and the screaming from the mothers themselves, too. The 6am cell phone conversations from the playground, which are supposed to be private, but, I hear the cussing, and yelling, and the pain of relationships that have lost hope. My heart breaks for both parties on the line, and I have come to even pity the abuser-and the abused. But, the kids hear the voices and the tone of voices, and they repeat the screaming. I watched a 5 year old boy use a plastic bat to beat a plastic snowman today--as he screamed vulgarities as loud as he could: and I knew that this is all that he could do, all that he had to voice, all that he had to offer--for now.
I hear the screams from the daycare-typical screams of 2,3,4 year olds-and some of the same terror in some of their voices--I know when a mother is leaving usually, because the calls for "momma" or "nooooooo" are as loud as if they were in my own house.
Maybe I hear the screams because my own home is so quiet. The cats barely utter a word. The music is quiet, the rooms are filled with art and books and quiet conversation. Sometimes I want the kids next door to come and experience the quiet--to understand that there are ways to communicate without volume.
Does my life scream anything?
BUT, the screaming.
Living between a battered women's shelter, a daycare, a community center, a law office and a large extended family--I hear screaming almost every day. Sometimes, I can tell that the screams are happy-a game of chase, some kids playing monsters or ninjas, balloons, joy; but, more often, the screams sound terrifying. I do not fault the kids at the shelter for screaming. I assume that is what they have always known, that they have heard so much screaming that it's the only way that they know to get attention and to communicate-I hear that. I can usually tell when a new woman has come to the shelter by the unfamiliar screams of her kids. The boys seem to scream as much as the girls. I hear the crying and the screaming from the mothers themselves, too. The 6am cell phone conversations from the playground, which are supposed to be private, but, I hear the cussing, and yelling, and the pain of relationships that have lost hope. My heart breaks for both parties on the line, and I have come to even pity the abuser-and the abused. But, the kids hear the voices and the tone of voices, and they repeat the screaming. I watched a 5 year old boy use a plastic bat to beat a plastic snowman today--as he screamed vulgarities as loud as he could: and I knew that this is all that he could do, all that he had to voice, all that he had to offer--for now.
I hear the screams from the daycare-typical screams of 2,3,4 year olds-and some of the same terror in some of their voices--I know when a mother is leaving usually, because the calls for "momma" or "nooooooo" are as loud as if they were in my own house.
Maybe I hear the screams because my own home is so quiet. The cats barely utter a word. The music is quiet, the rooms are filled with art and books and quiet conversation. Sometimes I want the kids next door to come and experience the quiet--to understand that there are ways to communicate without volume.
Does my life scream anything?
posted by Downtown Don Simmons at
3:16 PM
1 Comments:
Wow!!!
By
Anonymous, At
12:40 PM
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