Asakiyume mita

I promise it won't be all activism all the time at asakiyume dot livejournal dot com, but sometimes things happen all at once.

Back in 2010, when I was doing research for Pen Pal, I found out about Africatown, a unique community in Mobile, Alabama, home to descendants of people brought to America on the last slave ship, in 1860. People in this community spoke African languages well into the twentieth century. When I went to Alabama, I visited a memorial in the community (pictures here), and I've always thought it would be great if someone from the area were to write a history of it--or historical fiction.

But alas, what's happening instead is an oil pipeline is being put right through the community, with no communication with community members, jobs promised but not delivered--the typical story of disregard of the wellbeing of people in minority communities. As one protestor points out, a violation of the Environmental Justice Act of 1984. As this protest was being filmed, the construction crew were demolishing a baseball field at the local elementary school--now the children can't go out for physical education. The pipeline also runs right next to a community garden.

Watch on YouTube

The community seems well organized and has at least some support in the wider area. Hopefully their protest will be heard and some changes will be made to the route of the pipeline . . . though where and how. . . can it be stopped altogether--who knows. . .

Meanwhile more on Irom Sharmila, from the previous entry. She has a court date this Thursday. amaebi took the initiative and wrote to John Kerry, in his capacity as secretary of state, via this handy contact form, to ask that he press the Indian government on her behalf and on behalf of her cause. Inspired, I did too. I'll enclose the letter under a cut in case anyone else would like to send a letter and wants some thoughts on talking points.

If people would like to write to Sharmila directly, I do have a contact address. Send me a message via LJ, and I'll share it. I intend to write her myself, tonight or tomorrow.

( letter to Secretary Kerry )

I promise next entry will be something lighter!

The birds sit on the wire, shoulders hunched, while overhead the clouds and sun fight for mastery of the sky. It's like they're the battle's foot soldiers (wing soldiers?), too battle-worn (except for that one on the left) to take to the air.

Below, there is a bright and narrow road. You walk balancing on it, poised four inches above the earth, almost touching it. Almost. Like a ghost, not quite through the veil into the living world.



( Bible lawn signs )