Break the Silence

Introduction

Well hallo!

My name is Bleauregard von Kasadu, or Blu for short. I want to start off by saying, I love you. You see, when I was nineteen-years-old, I discovered that my mother was really sick. I responded by dropping everything I was doing to progress in life, and began researching medicine for her. Granted, she is a stubborn lady, and the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree. What began as a journey to help my mom quickly evolved into a life-time goal of saving the planet, as my world-view of the problems we face as human beings expanded.

Fast-forward to today, and my mother is miraculously fine. Since then, I have identified six over-arching problems that humanity faces; pollution, poverty, abuse, self-doubt, boredom, and ignorance. Today, I am here to support the BreakTheSilence and MeToo movements in their efforts to end abuse and self-doubt.

I want to share a few things with you meant to empower you, whether or not you have faced the Marque de Sades of the world. First, I have a success story about a friend who was date-raped by a co-worker. After that, a rendition of two-and-a-quarter poems I chopped up and crocheted together; one by activist Marianne Williamson, and one-and-a-quarter by poet Shane Koyczan. I will wrap up this little presentation with a non-religious blessing I was taught as a Zen student in Oregon. My hope is that after today, these presenters and I will make such an impact on your life that you will carry with you the tools necessary to heal and to act if and when you are called upon to make a choice.

Justice in the Hands of The People

My friend was working at a gentlemen’s club, when she was approached by the DJ. He took her home, drugged her, and she woke the next day with nothing but his shirt on. The manager of the establishment knew of what had transpired, and she did nothing. He was actually filmed, disposing of his mattress and blankets. My friends and I were furious.

While discussing how we should handle the situation- one idea being a protest- I remembered a time in high school when I wore a gorilla costume. Now, I’m a theatre kid. I am known to wear costumes. So during this discussion, I mentioned, “wouldn’t it be hilarious if I wore a costume? Like a cow costume!” It was funny but within ten minutes, we were serious. We found someone with a cow costume in their closet. We’re talkin’ full body-suit, giant rubber udders. Oh yeah. It was happening.

We showed up out front of his work; on the sidewalk, mind you. There were probably ten-fifteen of us with signs and masks; “They employ rapos”. It didn’t say “they”, but the name is irrelevant. And then there’s this cow, dancing with his udders floppin’ about. Pure gold. The manager didn’t seem to enjoy our presence much. However, within a week, that little Marque de Sade was unemployed.

Granted, the process to test rape kits are pretty backed up in Oregon, if that doesn’t paint a grim enough picture for you. But she slept a little easier, knowing that there are people out there who would bend over backwards for justice. I’m here to remind you of that. We are here to remind you of that. But you have to say something in order for us to be effective. I know how hard that can be, because #MeToo.

To This Day (For the Bullied and Beautiful)/This is My Voice/Our Deepest Fear

So as I said, I have a set of poems that may help to empower you. They have helped me considerably over the years. Now, when I say “this is my voice”, I want you all to repeat that each time I say it. Okay? Let’s practice.

“This is my voice”. [Wait for response]. That was beautiful.

When I was a kid, I hid my heart under the bed because my mother said,

“if you’re not careful, someday someone’s gonna break it.”

Take it from me, under the bed is not a good hiding spot.

I know, because I’ve been shot down so many times,

I get altitude sickness just from standing up for myself.

But that’s what we were told; “stand up for yourself”.

And that’s hard to do, if you don’t know who you are.

We were expected to define ourselves at such an early age.

And if we didn’t do it, others did it for us.

“Geek. Fatty. Slut. Fag.”

At the same time we were told what we were, we were being asked,

“what do you want to be when you grow up?”

I always thought that was an unfair question.

It presupposes that we can’t be what we already are.

We were kids.

When I was a kid, I wanted to be a man.

I wanted a registered retirement savings plan that would keep me in candy long enough to make old age sweet.

When I was a kid, I wanted to shave.

Now, not so much.

When I was a kid, I wasn’t given a choice.

But today, this is my voice. [Wait for response].

There are many like it,

But this one is mine.

The only ones [that seem] willing to stand up are forced to live so far beneath the radar,

That the underground is considered above it.

This is for the Ho Chi Minh’s and the Michael Collins.

Even Marque de Sades, and the muted gods.

This is my voice. [Wait for response].

There are many like it, but this one is mine.

And this time,

it’s for the sons and daughters who watch mothers and fathers drown in shallow waters,

while panning for the American Dream in a polluted creek called “The Mainstream”.

This is for the homeless people sleeping on steam-vents.

Making make-shift tents out of cardboard and old trash,

trying to catch forty winks between the crash of car-wrecks.

Risking their necks by surviving another day, so they can starve.

So that famine can carve their body into a corpse before their heart stops beating.

So that men in a board-room meeting can make it harder for them to get welfare, healthcare.

It’s no wonder some of them pawn off their own wheel-chair.

And every time I walk by,

I can’t help but feel at fault that maybe I didn’t search myself hard enough for the control-alt-s,

So that I can save the world.

Or at least this little girl curled up into a ball,

I’ve spent most of my life throwing compassion back like a fish that’s too small.

Gotta cash in my reality checks;

Drop her some spare fantasies.

You see, these words are not mine.

One poem by Marianne, two by Shane Koyczan.

You see, he’s got three separate degrees from different universities,

But the most valuable thing he ever learned was to believe people when they say, “please”.

But this is my voice. [Wait for response].

There are many like it,

But this one is mine.

So don’t tell me there are no heroes.

This one’s for them;

The women and the men.

For Helen Keller, who against all odds found a voice.

For the choice Veronica Guerin made.

For Martin Luther King, who stayed just long enough to share his dream with us.

This is for that day on the bus for sister Rosa Parks.

This is for the Joan of Arcs who believe,

Even in the face of sparks becoming flame.

For the game that Louis Riel refused to play.

This is for the day the Dalai Lama finally goes home.

For Dr. Jeffrey Wigand who alone stared down big tobacco.

For Nelson Mandela who continued to go the extra mile.

This is for the trial that finally found a man guilty of shooting Medger Evers dead.

For everything Malcolm X said.

Remembered by athletes, who left the Olympics double-fisted.

For Arthur Miller blacklisted for calling a witch-hunt what it was.

For Galileo locked up, because he said the Earth was round.

This is for the two-live crew that found the sound that got them banned in the USA.

And just imagine if we could still hear John Lennon play.

This is for the someone who stood up today and said, “no”.

For Edward R. Murrow, who shut down McCarthy.

For Salman Rushdie; Mahatma Ghandhi.

You. Me. This city. This country.

You may not have had a choice then, but you do now.

And when you stand up to be counted,

Tell the world, “this is my voice” [x3, wait for response].

There are many like it, but this one is mine.

If and when you choose to use your voice,

You must face your deepest fear.

But our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.

Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.

It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.

We even ask ourselves, “who am I to be so brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?”

Actually, who are you not to be?

You are a child of the stars.

Your playing small does not serve the world.

There is nothing enlightened about shrinking,

So that others won’t feel insecure around you.

We are all meant to shine, as children do.

We were born to make manifest the glory that is within us.

It is not just in some of us; it’s in everyone.

And as we let our light shine,

We unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.

As we are liberated from our fear,

Our presence automatically liberates others.

Conclusion

Now before I leave here today, I said I wanted to impart to you a blessing. But in order to really maximize its effects, I need a little community participation. So repeat after me:

May you be happy.

May I be happy.

May everyone everywhere be happy.

May you be well.

May I be well.

May everyone everywhere be well.

May you be free.

May I be free.

May everyone everywhere be free.

Ladies and gentlemen, namaste aloha, and thank you for your presence.

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Disclaimer: This writing is primarily made of works by Shane Koyczan and Marianne Williamson. Kasadu Enterprise and affiliates do not own any rights to their works, nor are we associated with them in any way. We do not accept payment for reciting their words.

For more info on Shane Koycan and Marianne Williamson, please click the links below!

https://shanekoyczan.com/

https://marianne.com/

For more info on #MeToo and #BreakTheSilence, please click the links below!

https://metoomvmt.org/

https://www.breakthesilence.org/