July 18, 2018
59 Main Street
East Greenwich, RI 02818
Posts for Category: Website Posts
“I’m looking through rough drafts of my next project and I wanted to share this with my friends”
Before that propitious Spring would begin to stir inside the wintery bones of Manhattan, and I would stride through the puddling park toward east fifty seventh street to meet you, there was a girl heedless of destiny. Before I would stand still across the street from your studio beneath the black, reflective skyscraper known as the Death Slide, there was a woman without a history.
This was my second year at Trinity high school, an upper west side establishment for Catholic boys which was now coed and predominantly Jewish. I was thirteen when I returned to those bleak hallways with their constantly slamming lockers and bright array of students, tan and fresh from their country estates, ready to compete for college placement.
It was time to begin tenth grade and I had spent the summer tripping on liquid A. to the revelations of The Doors, and clanking on a spidery drum set to the Dark Side Of The Moon. I had held a gun to a man’s head, and without knowing whether or not it was loaded, pulled the trigger. I had clung to the hood of an old Mustang going seventy miles an hour down the wooded, serpentine roads of Eastern Long Island and not been thrown off when the driver stopped short. I was a mental acrobat trapped in the habits of a hitchhiking, beach bumming, sleeping bag slumming, stone footed punk.
September tumbled toward fall and I turned over only imaginary leaves, thumping an invisible bass to the lines of Wild is The Wind and flapping my arms in concert with the tom-toms to a wasted audience of three. Ninth grade had been eighth street and Pink Flamingos, army jackets and bleary eyed boy friends who had since been expelled. Now I roamed with a note pad in my pocket and a fence around my head, watching the village spend itself on Friday nights and squatting on curbs until the second avenue deli opened, sweeping the morning into a dusty little pile.
Saturday nights were back uptown, diving into the jeweled pavement outside the Museum of Natural History, loaded on quaaludes, or dancing wildly within the veil of a purple strobe light. And Sunday, my Sunday, was sitting on Virginia Woolf’s lap in Riverside park until dusk, retrieving whatever childhood I could from her tomb of resonant voices.
I couldn’t wait to get to my son’s school at 10 am to stand with the students and faculty in silence. I cut fast on my scooter through the abrasive cold, Pooh weather, I call it. Blustery March, full of light and promise and surprises.
There they were, heads bowed, in the right, belonging to the world of people who want children to be protected even from their own confusing impulses. Here I come, I felt, throwing down my scooter, here I am, quietly mourning and excited for change.
The woman next to me gave me a shoulder bump. If I weren’t new here we would have locked arms. Under the bright blue sky, high as the troposphere arches, we are all locking arms. Our arms, human arms controlled by our brains, our sense, our wisdom and our intuition.
It seems we have no rights to protect ourselves from crippling taxes, from chemicals in our water, air and food, from government mandates, from unaccountable corporations taking over our every social and vital need, from abusive law enforcement, but we have plenty of rights to endanger others with weapons and vehicles.
A wonderful student at the gathering today said, “Take this with you. Don’t let it end here.” We have to protect each other from stupidity and greed. We have to have each other’s backs. Laws will eventually reflect the will of society, but we have to enact the heart of society, right now.
Bill de Blasio is supporting the kids on this one, and I’m impressed with his stance. These changes can start small; it doesn’t have to be a nationwide change. In fact, wouldn’t it be great if New York could lead the way in dis arming citizens? Maybe, if we really are worried about defending ourselves against the government, we can open up the Armories (share them with the art exhibitions) and have a citizen militia that employs unemployed people over 40. Citizens against unfair practices! We have to be vetted, trained, fed, paid and tested on current events. We also have to have dances and poker nights, and we can’t take the weapons home!
Sophie B. Hawkins
Thursday, October 5th
Nataick Center for the Arts
14 Summer Street
Natick, MA 01760
Saturday, October 7th
Vinegar Hill Music Theater
53 Old Post Road,
Arundel, ME 04046
Thursday October 26th
300 Main Street
Old Saybrook, CT 06475
Located on the historic Town Green
Friday, October 27th
24 West Temple Avenue,
Sellersville, PA 18960
Time: Doors Open 7:30pm, Show Starts 8:00pm
Saturday, October 28th
227 Maple Ave E
Time: Doors Open 5:30pm Show Starts 6:30pm
Sunday October 29th
8982 Quioccasin Road
Richmond, VA 23229
Time: Doors Open 5:00pm, Show Starts 7:00pm