One White Leads To Another (revisit – song)

Thought to go back to something from a couple of years ago.

Originally a response to Ron DeSantis and his Ron dreamy land baron remembrances and his attempts at rewriting history, but, as the always obvious continues to become even more always obvious now, there is this and example of how honest, truthful and critical thought can fade given the right condemnation and empowered white grievance.

To The Fixx “One Thing Leads To Another”

The deception some white folks

Is want present false history

State by state they pass laws now

To hinder what kids can and cannot read

Just to protect them they claim

From truths about black and white

But when some books shed light

Difference wrong and right

That aren’t white enough they balk and they say

We’ll teach history no mention of trees

Oh when

One white leads to another

We’ll point out wrongs in history’s long stories gone and then

One white leads to another

The intention is to

Teach alternate washed whitey tales

Where there wasn’t a time then

Where justice judged with far different scales

It wasn’t baked into fabric since a father’s slave day

Where ownership was the way

But when an academic thought critiques that it’s never changed

They just ban CRT while they exclaim then

Teach history as only we can see

One white leads to another

We’ll point out wrongs in history’s long stories gone and then

One white leads to another

Yeah Yeah Yeah

One white one one white leads to another

Indoctrination is their fear into liberal ideology

That kids might fall not wanting them to  

To learn now how to actually think free

Hear opinions both sides even some they disagree

Can’t have them thinking that way

‘Cause if critical thought questions white supremacy

Indoctrinate instead with our own theories

We’ll teach history as only it can be

One white leads to another

We’ll point out wrongs in history’s long stories gone and then

One white leads to another

Yeah Yeah Yeah 


One white, one, one white, leads to another
(One white another)
One white, one, one white, can’t teach of others  
(One white another)

One white, one, one white, empowered white brothers
(One white another)
One white, one, one white Liberty mothers  
(One white another)

One white, one, one white, leads to another

(One white leads to another)

Headstone … The Walk

Headstone continued … The Walk

Headstone

In a graveyard nearing dusk the groundskeeper came upon Death, leaning heavily on his knot gnarl anguish handled scythe as he knelt at an almost hidden, fallen stone, shunned, just outside the cemetery, alone, at the edge of a large forest. He wept quietly.

“Are you alright old man?”

Death was startled

“What?!” as he tried to stand

“No need. Pay your respects”

“Why don’t you shudder cold at the sight of me, cringe, run to escape who I am, maybe to you?”

“I know death. I have been here as long as you have searched … for your mother right? How did you know?”

“I had this inscribed in her stone I pray to God that she may lie forever with unopened eye hoping she would never see my shame and what I had become and wrought”

The groundskeeper said “Let’s walk my friend” …

//////////////////////////////////////////

Headstone … The Walk

The groundskeeper walked his common with death in tow

“I knew her”

“I knew him, he was an ass, he was having an affair and was found out with a jealous bullet”

“She was the find in a weird way, but still buried together”

“He was a sad case of life cut short … on a Tuesday I think”

“That one was an unfortunate result of small minds”

“This was a way back where they wore masks … “

Stop!

What?

We’re just walking here, so stop.

But?

You know all of them, of course, we know that. Jobs are jobs and you have yours but I have mine … look to the distance, the Lily fields. These are my keep, some come to cry, to anguish and blubber, some come to just sit and wonder of talk to other places as if their words can be heard, some come to be seen for talk of why they were late today on someone’s birthday

That is Angie, talking to her dad

Those are flowers left by Peter who feels better now even though he was an awful son and knows he hastened his dad’s death

That is Bart, off to the left, who comes here only because he feels if he doesn’t he will lose whatever semblance of sanity he has left

That’s Michelle, after years away, who feels that wiping off the dust and dirt of time will somehow make everything better

Then there is Thomas, who I truly feel for, his loss that just destroyed him as that headstone is the last thing he has left in whatever it was that tried him in his world. Know that your job has consequences.

But what are we to do?

Nothing, we can do nothing, but we can have a little respect. I take comfort in some genuine words spoke at knelt stone, when there are some, when loss is so profound that it brings a tear to even this old groundskeeper’s eye

This is what you do?

It is, but I don’t fault you for doing what YOU do. Now stand …

But I don’t even remember having knelt

… use that scythe for balance and stand up from your creaky knees and let’s go over to that corner and to Maribel

Why Maribel … is she?

No, leave her be, she has time, still has a daughter to come, but she sings, she even extols your virtues

Me? My virtues?

She sings of what is done and understands, as do I, though in a lesser chord, I am no singer, and in such a glorious voice

Her loss?

Doesn’t matter, she just comes here, twice a week, sometimes more, and just sings along with the trees and the breeze and the sun and short lived birds through the stones underneath her feet that look out over the hills that this place, all of these places, are as they always are intended to be

Oh my, that is heaven

I know

You said she still has a daughter to come?

STOP!! My expanse can still include you, death can die. There will be another. It just won’t be you.