Sue Frankel-Streit: Rain of Justice

by Sue Frankel-Streit

Steady rain all day today—the earth mourns Troy Davis, a symbol of so many people, creatures, plants and streams killed by oppressive institutions. Seems many in my circle of women took this one pretty hard; perhaps because it was so premeditated, so contested, and could have so easily been prevented.  Even my 13 year-old daughter was up last night reading Democracy Now’s reports on the case.

Troy Davis

And while part of me was proud of her for caring, another part was even sadder that despite so much work by so many, her young heart must also hold the pain of our failure to save the innocent.

What do you do when righteous anger just doesn’t touch the grief? Rain, I suppose.

Last week our community hosted some North Carolina activist elders who were presenting at the “Military Industrial Complex at 50” conference in Charlottesville. One night as we sat talking about the state of the world one of them stopped mid-sentence and turned to a young woman in the room. “I’m so sorry,” she said with tears in her eyes. ”I want you to know we really tried.”

I’ve been thinking a lot about that apology lately. And about how, when I told another sister that our friend Steve had gotten 8 months for trespassing at the nuclear weapons production plant in Tennessee, her eyes filled up, and she just looked at me through that mist of anger and grief, the same apology in her eyes.

We have tried; we are trying. And it is not enough. So we feel guilty, paralyzed, exhausted, depressed, anxious…and most of all, sad. Some days, like this rainy day-after another unjust state-sponsored execution, it all seems too much.

But the one thing I know won’t help is giving up. So I helped the kids put their boots on and we went outside to jump in puddles and look for a rainbow. No rainbow today, but by the time our boots were soaked through, the sun was out. Wherever Troy Davis is now, I hope it feels like that moment when the world suddenly brightens after a long rain, and everything is washed clean and shining in the sun and everything feels possible again for a moment.

Sue Frankel-Streit littleflowercw@cvalink.com

is a member of the Little Flower Catholic Worker Farm in Louisa, VA