I wasn’t ready to write this diary of thanks to an incredible community. I didn’t think I could write it ever until I awoke about 3 a.m. listening to a sorrowful BBC radio program on the June 16, 1976 Soweto Uprising. Seems an odd bit of powerful history to instigate this old white Baltimore born in 1950 broad to write here again.
I’m still a bit bonkers (sorry, but that’s how I have to describe my state of mind) but not seriously bonkers. ericlewis0, my secret boyfriend, and many Admin and community great minds figured out that eric could contact me when I was in the depths of self-pity. Eric recommended probably the most brilliant and giving psychiatrist in the universe who would take my phone call and listen and pull information I would never share ever or ever. I can never stop thanking him or that amazing woman. Actually, she needs an Animal Nuz character for interviews of people who are more “interesting” than I am — like the Trumpster.
Another diary will follow about the unfortunate outcome as a result of my incredible local police department doing a “wellness” check at midnight or there abouts. That’s for when I can get back to my normal assoholic indignant state (not about the police who were brilliant).
For now, all I can say — which I will say much better later — is thank you. I’ve tried to read all comments in diaries and haven’t gotten through kosmail because I keep crying — not bad crying — just, OMG — Norma Rae Oscar crying.
Then I listened to the broadcast on the Soweto Uprising. It was incredible because it was completely wrapped around the music — the revolutionary music of June 16th and before and after. The music I only learned through loving Lady Smith Black Mambazo and then wondering — where did this come from? Then over years, I learned. Listen to the historical hymn that became an anthem.
x YouTube VideoYeah, that’s life affirming despite unbelievable oppression. I will pull this music up every time I feel sorry for myself. Harmony beyond harmony. Blessings for all of our brothers and sisters throughout the world who are oppressed. Bring your music, poetry and prose. Fight with your voices. I forgot that for a bit. (Watch the music and video through the credits — well worth the music and visuals).
Kids — real revolutionaries on their own. And of course Nelson Mandela and his fellows; defiled and detained and many hung each week. I learned the prisoners sang on Fridays when they knew one or more of their compatriots were being dropped with a rope around their necks. They sang. I despaired. What a goddamned wake up call I had this morning. Some, like Mandela, survived and looked for reconciliation which I just couldn’t comprehend until this morning.
I had to look up on Wikipedia which is very helpful for general info then you have to look further — but here we have native Black South Africans — so of course, the number of casualties would have varied in 1976 because of who was reporting — mostly white people:
The number of people who died is usually given as 176 with estimates up to 700. The original government figure claimed only 23 students were killed;the number of wounded was estimated to be over a thousand people.
I’m not wounded because I’m Black, Hispanic, LGBT, or any other oppressed person in the world. I could be considered one of the privileged but self- wounded. I’m just one lucky enough to have “the kindness of strangers.”
I will write a better thank you to you amazing people a bit later. I just wanted to get back in the community because this anniversary touched me profoundly.
Also — re: the kosmails. I also learned how wrong I can and have been throughout my life by judging. I learned from one Kossack that I should think twice about being cruel when I think I’m being clever. No eleventy times because I don’t know one’s history. I learned from many Kossacks that this is a fucking amazing community and now I have to stop or I’m going to sound soppy and ruin my reputation.
Blessings all. I’ll be back regularly soon — which may be a good or bad thing. I’m pretty sure I’ll suck at replying if anyone reads this diary.
Much love,
gchaucer2