Erik Todd Dellums Presents: “Hero Worship”

In our Post 9/11 emotional haste to label every man who joins the United States military a ‘hero,’ our country has in its own way bullied those of us perhaps more familiar with the myriad of definitions of the word into quiet agreement for fear of the “Support the Troops” brigade who possess all of the compassion of the Salem Witch Hunters. Certainly there are members of the US Military who possess and have demonstrated great courage and some who have proven themselves to be great warriors. They are the true heroes. But simply signing the dotted line on the application does not in itself make one courageous, nor heroic. Though I certainly wish it did. Why? Because we in this nation wouldn’t have to be witnesses to the SLOWLY unfolding revelation that there is an epidemic (and yes, I chose that word for its precision) of sexual violence and assaults against female military personnel at the hands of military men.

I am disgusted. The idea that women can put their respective lives on the line for their nation and yet be brutally victimized by their co-workers baffles the mind. To be raped on the job at say a law firm, or a Post Office or in the stockroom of a Starbucks is awful and dehumanizing enough. But imagine being brutally raped while working in a male dominated and cloistered culture chock full of testosterone junkie men, trained to kill who answer to a court held outside the purview of the normal American justice system. I can only imagine the fear.

We owe it to our precious women to drag all of these monsters out into the light and shove their respective asses into ‘the brink’ for life. Yes, I said for life.

If we are living in a society that wants to deify these men as heroes, then their fall from grace and punishment must be equal in its scope.

(Please note that while my favorite song and video by Madonna speaks directly to what it must feel like to be a woman in a male-dominant world, I must note that male soldiers, yes male soldiers have also been victims of violent rapes my their ‘brothers in arms.’ And I find that equally disgusting.)

Erik Todd Dellums Presents: “Safe”

The eve before Mother’s Day. I see the stress in my Mom’s face and hear it in her voice. Where will the money come from? Household bills. Bills I used to be able to confidently pay in part or whole. Now I have nothing to give. My own bills have been tossed in a drawer. Can’t even consider them until I pay the IRS.

I step into running shoes, tightly bind my spine in a brace, mumble “I’m worthless” as I pass Mom, grab my Ipod, hit Aretha and enter into Nature’s magnificent spring for a ‘powerwalk’ so slow as to be laughable.

I need this walk as therapy. No endorphins will be released like in the days of my intense workouts. No. This is Nature as therapy; as desperation.

Teenage boys play soccer on the field of a private school. I envy their health, their youth. Girls watch in the stands. It’s spring. Somebody’s gonna be ‘making out’ after the game.

I enter the park. All greens and yellows. Strolling lovers. Parents holding children’s hands. A man carries his boy on his shoulders. I see the stables. Horses. A few strong guys do their best Lance Armstrong past me.

Aretha has transported me will her dance hits. I remember dancing. In NY. At the clubs. Here in DC too. “Jump to It!,” “Another Night,” “Get if Right!”

The pain in my spine intensifies. I’m aging as I walk. A mild depression is growing deeper. I should be spoiling my Mom. She shouldn’t have to worry about money. I’m nothing. Last year I was on a roll. I felt like a man. This year, I feel like an overgrown infant. I’m taking up too much space. A car approaches. I want to step in front of it.

Aretha sings “God Bless the Child.” Did I really just think I’d be better off dead?

Aretha sings “Ave Maria.” I think of Mom. Of Mother’s Day. How could I have had such a dark thought? How that would hurt her, my being gone. Selfish me.

My Doctor drives past, stops when he sees me. I approach him. He wants to see me in his office. He tells me he doesn’t care if I have no money. He demands I be there. My health is more important to him than money.

Aretha soars through “Ave Maria.”

I make it home and write a card to Mom for Mother’s Day. I tell her that she keeps me alive because I know she loves me when I don’t even love myself.

Later I go to the gas station. I don’t have enough money to pay. The cashier, a wonderful Ethiopian who lovingly teaches me his language tells me he will pay for my merchandise.

I cry for a half hour.

God has shown Himself to me throughout the day and night. I beg for forgiveness for losing faith.

And I know He, my Mom, my Doctor, a cashier and the Queen of Soul have saved me. I AM loved.

Erik Todd Dellums Presents: The Walk

I have been humbled. I have lost nearly everything, but nothing of real value. I no longer have 3500 Facebook friends. I have a few real friends. I have my Mother’s love. I have God’s Love. I am in constant pain. But I’ll heal. I am alone most of the time. But God is with me. I no longer workout or swim. I can only walk. So I walk by faith.

Erik Todd Dellums Presents: Silence

Dear Friends:

I am so sorry that I have yet to find the inspiration to write.  I do hope it returns soon.  Happy Spring!  Love somebody.