NO JURY GRAND OR SMALL

"The primary function of the modern grand jury is to review the evidence presented by the prosecutor and determine whether there is probable cause to return an indictment."
I think a great many American citizens interested in the life and death of young Trayvon Martin, have reviewed evidence presented by the media and determined that systems are either corrupt, broken, racially biased or in need of a major overhaul. Whether there is or is not a grand jury, many minds are already clear about what happened and why. Why law enforcement can't or won't see what seems to be obvious, is no surprise. Is it because this is America, or because of a law on the books that was borne out of frustration with violent criminals and their propensity to get away with their crimes?
An imposter in a pair of stylish shades through which she can see every litigant; who is not swift, but slowed by carrying the weight of bribes, lies, mistrust, secrets, and conspiracies, has tried to replace Justice, but real Justice never dies. No jury, grand or small can change that. Truth stands, no matter who is isn't telling it. Unfortunately, what we think may be spot on, doesn't always count or override existing law.
Individuals selected for grand juries aren't vetted for biases, so instead of being frustrated, maybe a sigh of relief is in order. Some grand juries aren't so grand, and could do more harm than good. There could have been a whole group of people who are sick of crimes committed by young Black men or who have been crime victims themselves. There could have been a whole group of people who fled one neighborhood for the safety of another and sympathize with others who have done the same. There could have been a whole group of childless, racist, unsympathetic, or fearful people. There's nothing saying that the people convened would have leaned in the direction that the majority of people favor.
Sometimes people are so accustomed to being wronged that they expect and brace themselves for it in every aspect of life. They don't ever look for fairness or justice in certain circles because it seems to always be elusive. Everything is viewed in terms of black or white. Every deck is stacked. Considering the past; considering very real, personal circumstances, sometimes it appears that they have a point.
I have to believe there's hope. Everyone has not decided to live dishonestly. Everyone is not vested in oppressing or denying others. Doing the right thing isn't a lost art. It's just important to be on one accord about what the right thing is, and be committed to doing it no matter what.

HE LIVES

"For as Jonas was three days and three nights in the whale's belly; so shall the Son of man be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth." -Matthew 12:40

"...They were puzzled, wondering what to make of this. Then, out of nowhere it seemed, two men, light cascading over them, stood there. The women were awestruck and bowed down in worship. The men said, "Why are you looking for the Living One in a cemetery? He is not here, but raised up. Remember how he told you when you were still back in Galilee that he had to be handed over to sinners, be killed on a cross, and in three days rise up?" Then they remembered Jesus' words." -Luke 24:4-8

"Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee: because he trusteth in thee." -Isaiah 26:3

THURSDAY THOUGHTS: NOISE IN THE HOOD

When you live in the city, there are some things you expect. 

There are things with which, you learn to live. 

Noise is one of them. 

You get used to ambulance sirens, and police sirens (the annoying whoomp-whoomp-WHOOMP and the clucking-chicken-on-steroids sounds, seem to be new).
There are car horns of all kinds, motor vehicles speeding, screeching brakes, sounds of impact, sanitation trucks, motorcycles, all terrain vehicles, lawn mowers, weed whackers, construction machinery, and buses (that announce stops). 

Every now and then, the birds sound as if there's conflict in Birdland, and their songs aren't as sweet. 

There are dogs, big and small, barking at squirrels and people. 

There's the occasional helicopter scanning the terrain for the latest hiding/fleeing criminal. 

It's not pleasant, but one deals with it.

On the other hand, there's imposed noise. 

It's getting warmer now, and with car windows open, and tops down, drivers insist that you, too, enjoy their favorite song(s). 

It's not required that you be the car with them, or walking down the street as they pass by. You're in your house or apartment behind bricks, wood, mortar and glass (trying to flee from the muffled, repetitious, sometimes profanity-laced drivel that is passing as music these days). It sounds good to the driver, and for some reason, drivers believe they are doing a service to everyone by demonstrating the power and might of their stereo's bass. 

You can see the defiance and arrogance on their faces. 

They WANT you to look. 

They want you to say something. 

They have a right to play their music as loudly as they please, they reason, but they don't seem to care that they're riding through a residential neighborhood where, maybe, senior citizens, exhausted employees, sleeping babies, or studying children live.

There are the occasional loud people, who yell out of windows what they forgot to say when the listener was next to them. 

There are those who can't wait until they are closer on the sidewalk to the people they want to talk to, so their shrill voices pierce through the peace like a sledgehammer. 

There is the gleeful sound of kids on the way to, or coming home from school; the person/people yelling for the bus to wait; political motorcades complete with PA systems. (I wonder if it occurs to them that no one understands a thing they're yelling as they cruise through the neighborhood?)

If you live near a park, like I do, there are the impromptu picnics and permitted events, complete with unreasonably amplified music that lets you know your rattling windowpanes are useless. 

The noise goes on for hours into the night. Even if it WAS your favorite music, it would still be inappropriate in it's rudeness. 

Residents now know that they either have to reluctantly join the noisy picnic/event, find earplugs, or flee the area altogether until such time as the police are authorized to enforce noise ordinance laws.

Do people just not care how what they do or decide affects the lives of others? Somehow, the whole idea of exercising one's rights is missing a piece. When you infringe upon the rights of others, you have gone from exercising your rights to being an abusive, thoughtless bully. 

People with no voice, or who are too fearful, discouraged, or frustrated to use it, are usually the recipients of the bullying. If they dare to speak up, they're usually reviled for complaining, given unreasonable alternatives, or ignored altogether. 

Does a community have the right to enjoy peace and quiet?

Finally, there's noise, the level of which is, apparently, nearly impossible to regulate or abate: AIR TRAFFIC. 

Specifically, the late night variety is the worst offender of all. 

Yes. Planes have to fly somewhere, but when the decision is made to re-route them, it can be a bit of a shock for people who have enjoyed a reasonable amount of quiet in their neighborhoods. 

For almost a year, my neighborhood has endured a nightly show. Somehow, it's not so bad during the day. You sense the rumbling as if a monster train is approaching, but it just blends with the rest of the city sounds. In the words of Dr. Seuss, "it starts in low and then it starts to grow", but then as quickly as it came, it's gone, and the quiet resumes until the next plane approaches. 

At night, however, and into the wee hours of the morning, the noise is extremely unsettling. It is amplified. It has a presence. It's alive--all the way LIVE. There is nothing to buffer it. There's a sense that something humongous is barreling down on you, and you just can't get out of the way.

For the last year or so, late night flights headed to Washington Reagan National Airport have been flying directly over the residential neighborhoods of Bellevue and Washington Highlands in SW DC, Forest Heights, Maryland, and Arlington. On or about 10:30 PM, the air parade becomes more noticeable. The latest of flights (or earliest depending on your attitude ), thunders through at close to 2 A.M.

I don't know whose idea it was to change the flight path so that it sends planes over populated neighborhoods. I don't know who, in order to justify the action, honestly thinks arriving planes aren't as loud as departing ones.

I fly frequently, so I do understand the need for safety, especially when it comes to infrastructure that is overdue for repair or replacement. It's not my patience with the project that is wearing thin, but the resulting noise. My patience is being tested and extended. As each month passed last year and the noise increased, I didn't want to see it all as a racial or economic issue. I didn't want to think that somewhere in a conference room, people concluded that Ward 8 wouldn't mind, didn't care, weren't informed, didn't deserve consideration, or wouldn't have the political muscle necessary to speak up for itself when the noise became unbearable.

I decided to enlist the help of Google maps to see whether another alternative was viable. I am neither an aviator, surveyor, physicist, nor engineer, but I just wanted to see if up above my head ,and the heads of my neighbors was the only way. 

Why couldn't the jets fly over the old Oxon Hill Farm, SE/SW freeway, cruise over the Potomac and hook a quick left to the runway? Did they HAVE to fly directly over residential areas-- and so low that you can almost see what movie the passengers are watching?

After locating runway 15/33 on the map, then locating my condo community, I used a straight edge and saw the perfectly diagonal line. I see that someone, who probably isn't affected by the noise, had to make a decision. Was it tough, well thought out, and agonizing, or was it quick and cavalier-- in a manner that further demonstrates how Ward 8 and the quality of life there is viewed? 

All of that aside, in order to glide smoothly onto runway 15/33 with no turns, or circling, pilots flying planes coming in from the south probably prefer to fly over Bellevue.

I know now why it seems as if I could touch the under belly of each jet. It makes sense now why, every night, I hope and pray I don't hear a tremendous explosion. The jets are flying extremely fast and low. You can see them coming as they fly over Eastover Shopping Center, and they really do look as if they're coming right at you. Even if you're not glued to your window, you can still see the flashes of light, and the looming shadows. Even with headphones activated, the roaring and rumbling noise of the engines rip through the night air, and you can literally FEEL it. Every time I see a new crack on the wall or ceiling, I wonder.

Noise is inconvenient, but one person's noise is the sound of progress to another. When I fly into DCA, or when anyone does, I would love to know, and I'm sure that other passengers would too, that pilots can land smoothly and safely with as little maneuvering as possible. 

To ensure it, that means repairs and construction and that means noise.

It's almost May again. It's been almost a year since I read the first article forewarning area residents about the noise. It's been 3 months since I read the last article indicating that DC Representative, Eleanor Holmes Norton's office was made aware. Apparently, between May and December residents spoke up. Facetiousness aside, I honestly do believe that the resolution of the complaints was that SE/SW DC would bear with the lion's share of the noise. On some nights, I've counted up to 12 incoming flights.

One can appeal to others for understanding and mercy, I suppose, but as of last night, the answer seems to have been, "No. Remind them that they live in the city. Tell them to stop their whining and get over it, or move. They'll just have to deal with the noise until the work is done."

Hopefully, runway 1/19 will be brand spanking new very soon, and the big birds can give sleep deprived Bellevue a break. 

Here's to progress, and pillows and headphones, and warm milk (and Nyquil if you fancy it).

http://www.arlnow.com/2011/05/17/dca-runway-work-may-direct-more-planes-over-arlington/

http://www.arlnow.com/2011/12/21/scaled-back-airport-construction-hours-may-relieve-neighborhood-noise/

http://www.mwaa.com/reagan/3925.htm

http://www.myfoxdc.com/dpp/news/local/late-night-flights-over-southeast-dc-and-forest-heights-md-causing-noise-for-residents-121911

http://www.norton.house.gov/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=3088:norton-asks-faa-to-revisit-late-night-flight-policies-during-construction-at-reagan-airport-&catid=2

http://www.metwashairports.com/reagan/2544.htm

WRONG ADDRESS

Some living in luxury
Treated like kings
Some living in poverty
Lose everything
Things done on purpose
They'd never do there
Thoughts words and deeds
All empty of care
Mess makers clueless
Who cleans up the mess?
Sometimes it's not you
It's just your address

Perception.
Perception's the operative word.
Suspicious suspicions
Border on absurd
Conclusions drawn
In zero proof or less
Sometimes it's not you
It's just your address

So move. Get up. Get out. Go be
Where, among things respected
Are Humanity,
Truth, Justice, Family
Unless
It's safe to be you
And maintain your address
And your customs and culture
Beliefs and traditions
Dignity, Standing, Livelihood, Positions
Where do you belong
Are you cursed? Are you blessed?
Sometimes it's you-- right
But at the wrong address

A SOUVENIR?

A friend offered me a ride into the city from Seabrook after a studio session yesterday. I was sure I would hop on a train or into a cab immediately after exiting her car, but I decided to take a walk instead. I was in such a good mood, and the weather was mild.
As I approached a convenience store, I decided to go in and check out the produce. I saw some very nice plums and decided on them. As I walked the aisles I picked up some olive oil, popcorn, and some Dove soap, too. When I got to the register, the cashier told me the total. I didn't have the exact amount so I gave the cashier 2 bills. She printed my receipt and counted my change. When she turned to me I noticed she had the bulk of my change in one hand, had separated out 1 dollar, and was dangling it in her other hand. In my head I was thinking, "Ma'am, I'm going to need you to reunite that dollar with the rest of his friends". She smiled and asked in a lilting Latin accent, "Wouldn't you like to purchase a MegaMillions ticket with THIS dollar? It's up to 500 million dollars. I know you could use that kind of money!" I thought it was funny that she had to advertise it. It was funnier how she had my dollar waving in the air as if it was destined to land in the cash register and never see the inside of my wallet. Maybe she thought I was funny AND odd for coming into the store and not even asking about a lottery ticket. Was I the only person who had walked into the store and actually gone past the register without trying to see how lucky I might be? Yep. I really, really came in to look at the fruit, and of course, popcorn is always a good purchase--any time, any where.
I don't play the lottery. It's not even something I think about. I'd heard the broadcast news and read social networking posts, but buying a lottery ticket was the farthest thing from my mind as I strolled down Georgia Avenue. When I heard, "Sure. Why not.", I almost asked, "Hey! Who said that? That sounded like MY voice!"
Uh...It was...

She printed out the ticket, wished me well, and told me to come back anytime. I put it in my bag and continued my walk. If you paid me, I couldn't tell you the name of the store.
For me, casually surrendering the dollar was harmless, thoughtless. It was my non-tax deductible contribution to DC Public Schools or whatever else politicians say lottery money supports. I didn't stand there pondering my salvation, or considering the political, social, or economic implications. It was NOT, the beginning of a resource-draining habit. I really gave it no thought. I've been thinking about it today. Yes. I could have done a lot of other things with that dollar.
Yes. I'm a Christian. I know.
"The just shall live by faith." I know. I do.
I shouldn't gamble. I know. I don't.
Tithing is the way. I know. I'm a witness.
Gambling has destroyed people, families, relationships. I know. I read.
I could have said, "No thank you." I know. I didn't.
I could have bought another bag of popcorn.
*sigh*

Acts 3;19 WOULD be the passage of scripture that caught my eye today: "Repent therefore and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out, so that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord."

*sigh*

Help me Rafiki. "It's in the past."

It occurred to me, "You bought a lottery ticket. YOU and your no-lottery-playing, betting-casino-going self. I could almost see "YiaYia" from those hilarious Athenos Greek Yogurt commercials jump out of some bushes, shake her head at me and say in her deadpan way, "You are going to Hell".
I know. it's not that deep. But I did ask myself, "What if you actually win?"
It's a huge "what if" but I really have wondered today. Maybe that's a huge part of the problem with the whole gambling thing. Maybe it's not just the money that people waste, but the time spent wondering "What IF" and not concentrating on what IS.
Still, I wondered, and there ARE some things I definitely would do immediately if my bank account was suddenly enlarged exponentially. There's a hard working young woman who calls me Mom. I'd like to see her living in the neighborhood she says would be most suitable for her long commute to work. I'd like to make some student loans disappear. There are three people I would love to see in more accessible homes. One level. No stairs. And those walk in showers/tubs in their bathrooms...There's a hoarding situation. I'd like to remove the person to more humane living conditions, have the place completely sanitized, remodeled, refurnished and pay for counseling if that's needed. There's an addicted woman I would love to send to a reputable rehab that is known for its success stories. There's a friend who left everything to go and care for her ailing mother. There's a certain church that would no longer have to call itself homeless. There are some family members who deserve to go to college. I'd even landscape my street and make sure there was grass everywhere grass is supposed to be. I'd finance arts programs in my neighborhood schools. There's the Lisner Home in NW, the Congress Heights Senior Wellness Center. There's a music enthusiast who, I think, could use a building so his home can be his home. I'd buy paint and canvas and paint up a storm...

There's a lot I would do. In the meantime, I and the people who know me will still be in shock, and even laugh that I let that nice cashier talk me out of my dollar.
Wait. Maybe it's not merely a lottery ticket after all. It says "commemorative". Says it right on the front in big letters. See? That makes it a...a souvenir! That's it! Yes! I bought a souvenir!
Okay. I know. I live here. I didn't buy it in Paris or Kalamazoo. People buy souvenirs in their own hometowns all the time, don't they? Well...don't they?
I have a souvenir of the world's largest jackpot. It's a weak explanation that I can't even convince myself to fall for, but that's my story to soothe my church girl guilt, and I'm sticking with it. I'll let you know if it works out after the winning numbers are read, and they match the ones I'm not supposed to be looking at.
*sigh*...
Gotta find some sackcloth and ashes to go with my souvenir.

JUSTICE

"Justice- The constant and perpetual disposition to render every person his or her due; The conformity of one's actions and will to the law; treating people in a non-prejudicial manner."

Funny how we demand it for ourselves but can be so swift to deny it to others.

I felt like drawing again. I had no idea it would turn out this way. It just seemed to evolve, in light of current events. I decided to visit one of my favorite websites and make a card.

Classic Without Edge 5x7 folded card

Vanessa Renee Williams:Art

View the entire collection of cards.

WEDNESDAY THOUGHTS: KNOW YOUR WORTH

I love to sing. 

I would do it for nothing. 

That's how much I love it, and thank God for it.

 

I love to hear good singing, and music, too. There's nothing like the sound of blended voices and instruments.

I love harmony. 

I am still, however, trying to find the harmony between what I love to do and the business of it. 

Sometimes it's great--especially when dealing with honest people who respect not only you, but what you do. Other times, not so much.

 

There are those who fully understand the importance and relevance of Art, and support it in a manner that sustains it, and those who make it. There is another element, however, that sees the Art that others create as a means for them to get paid with negotiable tender, while the artist feeds on exposure, smiles, thanks, handshakes, and compliments. 

There is an element that assumes and counts on an artist's desperation to be exposed to a buying public, but it has no regard whatsoever for the artist or their work. 

It's evident in the manner in which they speak, and the arrangements they make. 

It's the show they care about, and the extent to which they will profit. 

The people in it, are dispensable incidentals.

Every time someone hands me a check for singing, it STILL feels odd. I'm a part of the "reasonable service" generation, but I've evolved somewhat. 

I realize I like to eat and pay my bills on time, just like other folk do. 

It amazes me how people will go all out for everything from napkins, to printing, to sound, but always want to stiff the musicians and singers, or expect them to work for free. 

Once again, creditors want negotiable tender, NOT chicken tenders--or sheet cake, corsages, certificates, pizza, mini trophies, floral arrangements, meatballs, gift bags, or red punch. 

What's with the cons? 

The worst person in the world for a con to deal with, is someone who can see right through them. 

They go from nice and smooth to stuttering, belligerent, and condescending in a matter of seconds when they realize they're not dealing with an idiot. 

Some folks have convinced themselves that you need what they have to offer, and you have been sitting around waiting for it. There are shysters who want to line their pockets at your expense, and by way of your labor. 

They'll drop words like "ministry" and "non-profit" and "small organization" and "don't have a lot of money", because they think you're gullible. 

It's the kind of behavior that gives legitimate charities a bad name.

 

What makes folk think you aren't charitable with your time, talent and resources on a regular basis? 

Is it because of their perception of what they think you have? What makes people think you don't need to be paid for your work? 

Would THEY go to THEIR jobs and announce to their boss that they will be working for nothing, or not enough to support themselves or their families?

People talk a good game, and don't realize you are googling them as they speak. 

When they find out you DO have mechanisms in place to handle your affairs, they get antsy. 

They want to deal with you because they think you're a pushover. 

They want to make you feel as if they're doing you a favor. Somehow they think you will never do what you do ever again in life if you don't accept their offer. 

Do they have a clue how much you love what you do? 

They'll try to school you about things you've been a part of for years. They'll drop names, too, as if you don't personally know the people they are talking about. 

Do people know how easily information can be gathered these days?

Dare to stand up for yourself; know your worth, and all of a sudden you're "not all that". 

They seem to forget--you didn't contact them. You have encountered people like them before, and won't lose any sleep over the conversation. 

They forget, THEY CONTACTED YOU. 

They may not see it, but what it will cost you to participate in their scheme, could be better utilized to handle your own needs, might leave you in the red, or could be better used to meet the legitimate need of someone else.

Be wise. 

Never be that pressed to do anything. 

Keep learning. 

Don't be discouraged. 

All business is not bad. 

Sometimes, you have to say, "No". 

Now...let the users and and opportunists go on and call someone else --who just may be even more fed up with foolishness than you are. 

Wait. Hear the phone ring? Go on. Answer it, and don't be the jerk you have every right to be. 

Accept their apology and listen to them deal with you respectfully, honestly, fairly--the way they forgot how to in the first place. 

Maybe it was your assignment to show them how to deal with people so that they will never be arrogant, too familiar, pushy and deceitful ever again, when it comes to the respectable work, time, effort, and talent of another human being. 

Don't ever allow anyone to diminish you, or make your livelihood their hobby. 

Be reasonable. 

Don't price yourself out of existence, but know your worth. 

Be the cheerful giver that God loves, but don't be a sucker.