In 2002, Giovanni contributed to a Smithsonian special exhibition, In the Spirit of Martin: The Living Legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Following is her poem, In The Spirit of Martin:

**This is a modified post from last year around this time. Nothing would have made me happier than to no there was no longer a need for this post or any others like it. One day. I pray. Be sure to check out my girl Princess Dominique’s post on Domestic Violence. Click here **

October is National Domestic Violence Awareness Month. So many people suffer at the hands of an abuser, keeping silent, hiding inside themselves.

It is a disgrace to the word “LOVE” to physically or mentally abuse someone – all in the name of love.

Last week in one of my writing groups, we played around with limericks. Here’s one that I shared with them:

For the record, it’s my left leg.

One incident. ONE. And I was out.

You may read this and think, “Mmph, she calls THAT domestic violence? She ain’t got a clue.” I call it domestic violence because it was. Measure it against whatever you want to. It changes nothing.

A “trick knee” is a small price to pay given how badly the situation could have turned out. There’s more to the story. No one has ever heard it though. EVER. Actually, no one has ever known how my ‘trick’ knee came to be. Until now. So, for those of you who know who I know, it’s okay that they DON’T know the story. If they stumble across this blog post ON THEIR OWN, it’s all good. ‘K? Thanks.

Domestic violence is deceptive. It will have you believing that you made someone else beat you, curse you, treat you badly all the while professing to love you. It will have you believing that no one else will want you, that you can’t do anything on your own, that you won’t make it without that person. And if you have kids, the stakes are higher – do you stay to keep the “family” together? Do you subject your kids to that?

A friend of mine ended an abusive marriage last year. When her husband became abusive towards the oldest son, trying to get him to disrespect her as well, she decided enough was enough. Leaving was ugly. But she did it. She left. And she left the church that “encouraged” her to stay, to be more docile, to “stop pushing his buttons”, that cautioned her against leaving since he was the breadwinner. (Sidebar: I’m not condemning the “church” as a whole. But I have no respect for people in positions to help others who counsel them to stay in situations that could be physically harmful to them when viable options exist. They never once spoke to her about other options. NEVER. So, I’m condemning the folks in THAT church who were counting this couple’s tithes instead of saving their souls and HER life.)

Years ago, I visited a friend who’d volunteered to keep a mutual friend’s son on a Friday night. Mutual friend dropped him off while I was there. As she was leaving, this little boy said to his mother, “Mama don’t let him mess with you. ‘K? Mama, you hear me?” He was 4 years old….4. Cautioning his grown mother not to let some man hurt her. She was supposed to pick him up Saturday but asked if he could stay until Sunday.This kid cried himself to sleep. When his mom came to get him the next day, he ran towards her then stopped and asked her in this tiny voice, “Can I hug you?” She said “Not today” so he held her hand. The whole time she was trying to snow us about her weekend, this kid sat holding her hand. I didn’t see her for years after that. She married her abuser. Had two more kids with him. The last time I saw her was at her funeral.

Domestic violence is a horrible, horrible thing. It can scar you – physically, mentally, emotionally. We say “I don’t know why they stay.”, “Why doesn’t she/he just leave?” or the infamous, “I don’t understand.” I used to say those things. Now when I’m tempted to say “I don’t understand”, I catch myself.

I don’t NEED to understand. I just need to be supportive when and where I can. Sometimes that means distancing myself from people who can’t find the strength, courage and/or wisdom to let go of the pain and the abuser. If you choose to stay, don’t ask me to watch.

I pray that the stigma of domestic violence disappears so people realize they don’t have to suffer in silence, that they have options. That they’re worth more than that. I pray that we teach our kids that love doesn’t hurt - not like that. That love doesn’t hit. And not only that we TELL them these things, but that we SHOW them through our actions. That we model right relationships, HEALTHY relationships for them. I pray that people learn to discern between behavior labeled as “cute” and warning signs of possible abusive tendencies.

More importantly, I pray that those places that are supposed to be safe, where people are supposed to be able to go if and when they need help, truly become the sanctuary for hurting people that they were intended to be and not breeding grounds for silence. And more abuse.

I was soooo shocked when I heard this story. I saw him perform the year before he found out he had cancer. Big guy. Big smile (B-I-G). And from what I’m told, a big heart.

Life is as precious as it is short.

Say what you need to say.

Say it now.

Be well,
~*~ MsJayye ~*~