Rage

Today's prompt for The One Minute Writer is Accident. This is the story that emerged in response.

He brought the red mustang to a slippery halt at the stop sign. Rain reflected off the street and dripped lazily off the maple leaves leaning over the road. On the windshield ribbons of white stick substance groped the sleek glass. High pitched howls confused his senses

Distorted faces glowed through the rain sluicing across his side window. The door swung open. Fierce female hands ripped him from the seat and tossed him onto the pavement. In a melee of limbs, he was struck again and again. Hands, feet, elbows and knees pummeled his prone form. Lips split, nose broke, scalp lacerated and ribs cracked under the blows.

As his mind began to darken, he heard a woman's voice pitched deep, almost a growl.
" Girls, get off him! Get the hell back to the gym. " He of was aware of long arms and a tall body creating a barrier forcing back the band of thugs. Moving into consciousness and a world of pain he moved slug-like across the asphalt.

"Get in the car get in the car. Drive! drive!" the woman commanded.

He pulled himself into the still running vehicle. It took a brief moment for his twisted swollen foot to find the gas pedal. Then he was off. Shaking and drooling blood as he drove the car, wild and weaving down the road.

The woman, shuddering with adrenaline, watched until he was out of sight. Long strings of damp toilet paper, used to blind the windshield before the attack, clung to her feet and legs. She released a long, slow breath that she seemed to have held for hours. She returned to the building and the gymnasium. It was going to be a long night talking down the girls hopped up on rage.

Unfortunately this is a true story. One of many painful events in my experience working with Toronto's Department of Parks and Recreation in the late 60's. In this case, I was able to control my little mob because I had already 'proven' myself as the boss the night they attacked me in the darkened gym. It is not often that I think about my size and strength but on that occasion I was decidedly grateful to my peasant ancestors for my genetic heritage.

Grandmothers' Insight

I recently heard an interview on the marvelous Vancouver Co-op Radio that moved me profoundly. The woman being interviewed was Agnes Baker Pilgrim - (Takelma Siletz) of Grants Pass, Oregon, USA. She is known as Gandma Aggie. An aboriginal who is the eldest member of her tribe, Aggie is the elected leader of the International Council of the 13 Grandmothers.

These brave souls have taken leadership in renewing values that have grown rusty in this age of politics and technology. Their statement of mission demonstrated to me how entangled I have become in my own tiny world which is made up of my family, friends and my daily concerns.

The Grandmothers' Mission Statement

The grandmothers and two young ambassadors.

We, THE NATIONAL COUNCIL OF THIRTEEN INDIGENOUS GRANDMOTHERS, represent a global alliance of prayer, education and healing for our Mother Earth, all Her inhabitants, all the children, and for the next seven generations to come. We are deeply concerned with the unprecedented destruction of our Mother Earth and the destruction of indigenous ways of life. We believe the teachings of our ancestors will light our way through an uncertain future. We look to further our vision through the realization of projects that protect our diverse cultures: lands, medicines, language and ceremonial ways of prayer and through projects that educate and nurture our children.

Grandmother Aggie cited a personal example of how the Council members honour their connection to the earth. She told listeners how concerned she became as reports of diminishing salmon stock came year after year. She knew that there had once been a ceremony practiced by the tribes living in the north west region of the coast. She did some research and found records of the event in old writings. She worked with an aboriginal group and gained permission from the Oregon Forestry Service to hold the ancient Salmon Ceremony in a secluded riverbank area. The ceremony is a celebration of the gift of food given by the salmon to sustain life. The salmon is cooked over fires using traditional methods. Prayers of thanks are given to the earth and the fish for the gift of life and that which sustains life. The bones and skin of the fish are ritually returned to the river. Grandmother Aggie said that this process mimics and honours the cycle of the salmons' life. She told how the mature salmon return to the streams and rivers of their birth. When the salmon have completed spawning the adults die. Their bodies decompose and provide nutrients for the next generation.

She reported that the salmon count in Oregon increased the year following the revival of the ancient ritual. The ceremony is now an annual event.

This is one small example of how the grandmothers are taking action to change the world one step at a time. Some of their other efforts are much more ambitious. They have taken on the Pope and the political leaders of many nations.

There are a number of websites for the 13 Grandmothers. I found www.grandmotherscouncil.com/INTRO.html the most informative.

Some of the sites have franchised the Grandmothers and offer tee-shirts, mugs
and other items. Originally I felt this was not in keeping what they stood for but I assume that this is one of the ways thier projects are funded.

Whatever the rationale, I am grateful that their work continues. As Grandma Aggies says "We will go on until our hearts lie on the ground."