“The mills of the gods grind slowly, but they grind small.” Sextus Empiricus.

The first time I had anything to do with changing gears in a manual (stick shift) car, I was about nine or ten.  A group of us children were driven to school in an Austin Cambridge, by the uncle of one of us.  Our school was on the way to his job, so it should have been very convenient.  We all would meet at his house and set off from there.  It was a little more complicated than I am sure our parents were aware, for the uncle had a problem with alcohol, and his niece had to struggle to get him up in the morning, pouring coffee into him, and having to take on way more responsibility than a ten-year-old should.

The Jamaican two-lane country road was narrow, filled with pot-holes, and very windy, and in the morning you could get stuck behind a bus or a truck or two.  The biggest responsibility on the drive was given to the person who sat in the middle of the front bench seat, for they had the task of manipulating the gear stick when our driver told us to.  The gear box was not the smooth, well articulated piece of equipment it is now, and changing, especially from second to third and vice versa, involved three moves, first vertical, then horizontal, then vertical, and if you weren’t careful, you would have our driver yelling at you, for grinding the gears.  What did we know about that?  Was the clutch fully depressed? It was both exhilarating and scary to be the one in charge, and pouring out of the car at the foot of the hill that we climbed to get to school was a big relief. 

Somehow we survived, but it was a big relief to me when I graduated to traveling on a country bus instead.  Independence Girl was her name (all country buses in Jamaica are named) and I soon learned her trademark horn.  The bus and truck drivers had air horns, on which they played their own original one-note tune.  Hers was: ‘A pretty gyal me want; a pretty gyal me want; a pretty pretty pretty pretty pretty pretty gyal me want’.  A different version started differently: ‘I want a pretty gyal, and a pretty pretty gyal, and a pretty pretty pretty pretty pretty pretty gyal’ (I may have missed out a pretty or two!’. The horn was blown as the bus driver approached the town, or common stops, or went around bends, or just for fun.  There was no concern about waking up the town, since country people rise with the sun, or as the saying goes: ‘Before cock puts on his drawers’ (before the rooster puts on his underpants!).

This week, it has been the image of great mill stones grinding slowly but inexorably towards holding an individual accountable for his actions; actions which were criminal, dangerous, and a threat to the democracy of the United States.  For those of us who are cable news junkies, it has been frustrating to wait for this moment of accountability.  We have listened to pundits, watched videos, heard recordings and observed the actions of a person who has acted with seeming impunity, all in self-interest, the very opposite of public service.  But finally, we seem to be hearing the grinding of those old mill-stones coming closer and closer.

The other frustration comes from knowing that there is a good portion of the US population who have swallowed whole the alternative ‘facts’, who would rather hold on to a version that is rooted in fantasy and propaganda.  It is hard to believe.  Here in the state of Florida we have a governor who may defend one man’s freedom of speech, while stifling the freedom of speech of teachers and educators everywhere.  A person who is happy with a whitewashed version of history being taught to children, so they won’t know the true history of this country. 

It is indeed a strange time to be living in this country, and it would be fascinating if all of these lies did not have real consequences.  In a few years, the progress of previous decades has been wiped out, and it would appear that it is ok to discriminate against anyone who is not white and male.  For the LGBQT community, they are seeing an increase in hateful rhetoric which history tells us, can easily turn into violence.  People of color, who may have hoped that they could live the American dream, have been reminded that first they have to overcome the systemic racism, and once more overt acts of ignorance are seemingly accepted.  Anti-Semitism; anti-immigrant sentiment; anti-other is apparently to be celebrated by those who would be led by a thrice indicted ‘alleged’ criminal.

So we are both encouraged to see a movement towards justice, and saddened that it has seemed to take so long.  We would love to sit with our knitting on the front rows, as the French women did at the French revolution, watching the aristocrats being taken to the guillotine (well, perhaps we are not so blood-thirsty!).  We are heartened to see that the machinations of Lady Justice can be trusted (we hope), but are also holding our breath, for we have seen how sometimes she appears to be not so balanced.

There is a line in a Damian Marley song that also has relevance here.  He sings: ‘Sad to see the old slave mill is grinding slow, but grinding still’.  There are many injustices yet to be corrected, and it is up to ‘we the people’ to demand these changes. One commentator suggested that it is the citizens of the United States who are on trial, for we all have some complicity in permitting things to get so out of hand.

When we were first exposed to the political ambitions of the thrice indicted etc. etc., we were sure no one would fall for his bigoted, racist, misogynistic immorality.  And yet.  My hope was always that there would be that equal and opposite reaction, or even that by pulling the society so far backwards, it would have propelled us that much further forwards, much like the power of a slingshot.  But we have to practice patience, and keep reminding each other that we need to be the change we want to see.

This Friday morning of this historic week, I hope you are up to the challenge.  I hope you are a spokesperson against injustice wherever you see it.  And I hope you have had the pleasure of driving a ‘stick-shift’ car, with or without grinding the gears!

Have a wonderful weekend, Family!

One Love!

Namaste!

And Happy 61^st Independence Day, Jamaica!