An excerpt from the essay "We Shall Not Be Moved", by New York poet Phil Rockstroh ~
"I once saw a Great Dane on Second Avenue attempt to
engage in canine communion with his fellows. In order to display his
intentions were benign, friendly, he crouched down on the sidewalk,
making his massive frame as small as possible, even placing his large
head on the concrete…doing all he could to produce the artifice of
submission, to even the smallest dog that approached him.
In other
words, to enlarge his world he created the illusion of smallness. He did
not reduce his essence; he created the artifice of smallness so he
could grow larger than himself by his union with the otherness of the
world.
We are not requesting that cops crouch before us. They just need not
bristle so.
To grow in each other’s presence, we are required to meet
the other at eye level, even if one has to descend a bit from a habitual
position of power and authority.
Officers, your guns, rubber bullets, nightsticks, pepper spray–the
looming wall of blue intimidation that you brandish merely creates the
illusion of strength. If you truly want to grow strong, meet us on these
sidewalks, sans the display of empty power."
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