National Day of Action

Today, United Way’s National Day of Action, found me standing on the corner of Main and Central from 4:15 to 5:15.  We stood there in silence, listening.  Last Tuesday, June 15, 2010, Kacy died.  She is our community’s latest victim of child abuse.  Today wasn’t about the person accused of killing her.  It was about her.  It was about how we, as a community, can do something different.  The idea came to me through a friend’s comment on United Way’s FaceBook page.  Cher wondered how no one could have heard something.  That spurred me to say let’s listen.  Today, people came and listened.  I wonder what they heard and noticed.  I noticed I don’t know as many cars as I knew when I was young.  I noticed I can’t name tunes in 3 notes as cars raced by.  I noticed how many distractions I must have to not notice all the skateboarders, the bicyclists, the walkers who crossed the street so as not to be with us.  Did they cross out of fear, out of confusion, out of lack of interest or out of what?  Sadly, I’ll never know.  I know only they crossed the street.  Would I in some other situation?  I don’t know.  If faced with it in the future, I’ll react differently.  I’ll think before I cross the street.

I thought about all the things I think about usually between 4 and 5:30, usually it’s work stuff, sometimes it’s family stuff.  Today I thought about a dear person in my life who lost her mom this weekend.  I thought about my younger sister’s father-in-law and his valiant fight against pancreatic cancer.  I thought about another sister and her potential need of a liver transplant.  I was moved about Kacy.  Right before going off to listen, a woman approached me.  She asked if I was responsible for this.  I thought of course not.  Sadly Kacy is why we’re here.  A little girl I’ll never know.  A little girl who’s voice and laughter her family will never hear again.  She then said she was Kacy’s grandma.  I couldn’t believe that in a community’s sorrow, there was a grieving grandmother in our midst.  I was honored, humbled and amazed she shared her grief with us.  To her, I am deeply grateful.  Sometimes we don’t want to be held up as the example.  Sometimes we don’t have a choice.  She didn’t.  My thoughts and prayers are with Kacy’s family and loved ones.

I heard the song, Teach Your Children.  I couldn’t remember the words, just the chorus.  I looked it up for those of you humming right now.  And to Graham Nash and to Kacy and to those who stood and listened on the corner of Main and Central and to those who joined in silence in New Mexico, Utah, Colorado, California, Portland, British Columbia, and Japan, thank you.

Teach Your Children
by Graham Nash

You, who are on the road
Must have a code
That you can live by.
And so, become yourself
Because the past
Is just a goodbye.

Teach, your children well
Their father's hell
Did slowly go by
And feed them on your dreams
The one they pick's
The one you'll know by.
Don't you ever ask them why
If they told you, you would die
So just look at them and sigh
And know they love you.

And you (Can you hear and)
Of tender years (Do you care and)
Can't know the fears (Can you see we)
That your elders grew by (Must be free to)
And so please help (Teach your children)
Them with your youth (You believe and)
They seek the truth (Make a world that)
Before they can die (We can live in)

Teach your parents well
Their children’s hell
Will slowly go by
And feed them on your dreams
The one they pick's
The one you’ll know by.

Don’t you ever ask them why
If they told you, you would cry
So just look at them and sigh
And know they love you.

Today, members of CAN (Child Abuse Network) came together to listen.  There are so many ways to show up in the lives of children.  There are so many resources.  There are resources on the volunteer page on our website.  There are numerous child abuse prevention resources on www.mailtribune.com/dontturnaway.  Please don’t turn away.  We can’t anymore.  There don’t have to be more Kacys.  We can show in the lives of children, in the lives of our neighbors, in the lives of our community.  We don’t do this work because it’s important, because it’s right, because we must, we do it because we CAN.  Join us!