Let me premise this post by stating that I am posting it here on Cure This because it relates to violence, human rights, grieving, mental health, forms of nonviolent resistance and collective healing. This week, an independent website called Wikileaks released a video they received from an anonymous source, from the view of a camera on the gun of a US Apache helicopter in Iraq, and featuring voices from the pilots of two US military helicopters. It was released on the Wikileaks site and a Wikileaks site called Collateral Murder.
Like La Macha said on VivirLatino, I must include a trigger warning. If you are a survivor of violence, this video could be extremely hard to watch and could trigger previous trauma. For those of us who have not been survivors of extreme violence, this could also trigger very deep, dark, powerful feelings. Here is the video:
I have so many thoughts about this video, so many sad and angry thoughts, and feelings about how we have all contributed to this attitude towards war and life. And I agree with La Macha says -- "I feel it is a duty to watch it. To see what it is being done in your name. And take responsibility for it."
But after I watched it, I was overcome with a sense of deep -- almost paralyzing -- grief. I felt positive that I was alone in this deep grief, but all over the US (and definitely all around the world), this video is sparking grief AND anger in many of us. Obviously, the anger that this video must incite in Iraqis and oppressed people everywhere is unimaginable.
My wonderful friend Heather Bowlan pointed me towards a Guernica Magazine interview with gender and nonviolence theorist Judith Butler. Butler's written a book recently called Frames of Life: When is Life Grievable? Her thoughts on the matter give me some direction and calm me... a little... so I thought I'd share them. On grievable and ungrievable lives:
This song (youtube video below) by folk artist Brett Dennen was recorded a few years ago, but is still quite relevant -- something to reflect upon as we start a new year. Lyrics:
Pilgrims in the parking lot
Arteries clogged with blood clots
Pushing through the aisles of department stores
Neon crosses and Christmas lights
Credit card debts and brand new bikes
The holidays are here and we're still at war...
The 10-year-old girl lost her legs in what her family said was a U.S. air strike on the outskirts of Baghdad last November. Salee, who was discovered by her mother dragging herself over a pile of bricks, helped identify the remains of her 13-year-old brother and her best friend, who were killed in the same incident.
Salee recently was fitted with mechanical knees and prosthetic limbs at the Shriners Hospital for Children in Greenville, S.C. Her sponsors wanted to give her a happy memory before she returns to her war-torn country next Monday.
So they brought her and her father to Catalina Island...
Her companions included Mahmood and two people who raised most of the funds to bring Salee to the United States in July for corrective surgery: social worker Ann Cothran of Greenville, N.C., and Cole Miller, founder of Los Angeles-based No More Victims, a grass-roots organization dedicated to assisting Iraqi children injured in the war.
"There are thousands of Salees in Iraq," Miller said. "I don't consider this charity. It's responsibility."
Salee's story is so tragic, but this outpouring of love and medical care is so beautiful. Providing health care for victims of American attacks abroad is the mission of his group No More Victims (NMV). Here's a moving video where he addresses privilege, our ability to provide healthcare, and the potential of individuals and communities to take action together:
Cole Miller is uplifting in his analysis. Americans are banding together -- there are NMV groups around the country. The organization has also begun sending medical supplies to Iraq and other countries (you can donate money online).
And on an entertaining note, Salee Allawe (the girl discussed above) whispered to her translator while on Catalina Island:
"I want to be a photographer when I grow up. But don't tell anyone because all the kids I know want to be doctors."
What is health justice? How are health & human rights fiercely connected to the wellness of our neighborhoods? How do we reframe policy debates? How do we continue dreaming and building instead of just reacting & surviving? And how do we support each other in our healing?
Cure This is an online space for storytelling, discussion, reflection and building around healing justice. Create an account to write a diary or comment. Questions or thoughts: lotusfeet [at] hotmail [dot] com
News: CureThis was part of an exhibit in Chicago: "Visual resistance in feminist health movements, 1969-2009" [link]