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It Takes A Village (Part 1)
March 19, 2008 - 9:02am — Lenelle Moïse
On June 18, 2007, 10 African-American teenagers
gang-raped and tortured a Haitian woman in southern
Florida in the notoriously dangerous Dunbar Village
public housing complex. Armed, the boys invaded the 35-year-old single mother's apartment wearing t-shirts as
masks. They beat her, shoved a gun inside her vagina,
forced her to perform sex acts on her pre-adolescent
son, doused them with cleaning agents and attempted to
set them on fire. The brutal attack lasted for three
hours, but neighbors ignored their cries for help.
Afterward, unescorted, the victims walked a mile to
the nearest hospital. It is believed that mother and
child were attacked because she refused to let her son
play outside.
As a Haitian-American who grew up in the projects and who was also forbidden to play outdoors, I was devastated to read about this under-reported hate-crime. I wrote the following poem last November and have only recited it three times:
June 18, 2007
a reporter will tell you
once
that a Haitian woman was raped
then forced to perform sex acts
on her 12-year-old son
by a masked gang of neighborhood
teenagers in West Palm Beach
Florida in the Dunbar Village Projects
only some of us knew
existed
the reporter is paid
to deliver this news
with a straight if solemn face
with the same grave
tone he uses to report a suburban
house on fire
another soldier down
a snow storm on its way
a car crash that results in a traffic jam
you really ought to dodge
as if severe facts can be edited
down to consumable
sound bites
as if sound bites are effective
warnings
as if learning the mere
who what when and where
can soften
the blow
of the how
as if the son will not vomit
when a future lover suggests
putting a mouth anywhere near him
as if his brain won't bleed
from trying to squeeze
flat
the memory of his mother's
trembling lips
approaching his aroused
shame
inching towards him
as if she were stumbling aboard
a slave ship oh the terror
of knowing that if she survives this
she is somehow expected to breathe
to keep breathing
to keep living
as if life
is not another word for
REMEMBER
oral sex on her 12-year-old
son
as if a violated child
is anyone's child anymore
as if the definition of mother —
to nurture, to protect —
has not been evenly beheaded
you know beheadings are irreversible
once you have been cut off
you are cut off
even if you are chicken
even if your body still
feels
the sting of the slice
even if you manage to run
your inevitable last thought is
something has been
irrevocably severed
in the case of the assailants
it was their hearts
but maybe they were born without them?
poverty causes
birth defects undetectable
until a child becomes
a criminal oh America
your children
are cannibal gunmen
they murder people who look like them
your children are diseased
their veins pump your war
blood your dormant gene
awake and rabid your
antecedent virus catching
your unspoken cancer history
screaming malignant your martyr's
mother's curse manifesting the globe
you set on fire is burning you
alive these American boys
are dead
long before they have grown
their first stubble
they are trouble
bubbling in the wake of rubble
of psychological warfare
come flesh
a poet will tell you
a thousand times
this shit is not poetry:
ten rapists ages 14 to 18
took turns
taking a woman
could have been their mother
rammed a train into her anus
pushed her into a bathtub full
of vinegar water hydrogen peroxide
alcohol ammonia nail polish
remover they beat her
held a gun to her head
made her give head
to the one she had given birth to
recorded their torture
with a cell phone camera
as if replaying it would keep it
more real
maybe they were replaying
an ancestral memory?
what happened Africa
before the Middle Passage?
maybe they were playing
slave captor and slave
the way some kids play cowboys
and Indians cops and robbers
soldier and Abu Ghraib prisoner
you know one of them
used a condom
had planned far ahead enough
to purchase or steal
one condom
as if the AIDS he worried the immigrant
woman might have was the worst thing
he could get
he could get life in prison
they will be tried
as the men they never got to be
were never fathered by
do not even know
America your headless
heartless young
do not even
know life
is another word for
REMEMBER
i tell you
they will never forget
their crimes
the way you
have forgotten
them.
As a Haitian-American who grew up in the projects and who was also forbidden to play outdoors, I was devastated to read about this under-reported hate-crime. I wrote the following poem last November and have only recited it three times:
June 18, 2007
a reporter will tell you
once
that a Haitian woman was raped
then forced to perform sex acts
on her 12-year-old son
by a masked gang of neighborhood
teenagers in West Palm Beach
Florida in the Dunbar Village Projects
only some of us knew
existed
the reporter is paid
to deliver this news
with a straight if solemn face
with the same grave
tone he uses to report a suburban
house on fire
another soldier down
a snow storm on its way
a car crash that results in a traffic jam
you really ought to dodge
as if severe facts can be edited
down to consumable
sound bites
as if sound bites are effective
warnings
as if learning the mere
who what when and where
can soften
the blow
of the how
as if the son will not vomit
when a future lover suggests
putting a mouth anywhere near him
as if his brain won't bleed
from trying to squeeze
flat
the memory of his mother's
trembling lips
approaching his aroused
shame
inching towards him
as if she were stumbling aboard
a slave ship oh the terror
of knowing that if she survives this
she is somehow expected to breathe
to keep breathing
to keep living
as if life
is not another word for
REMEMBER
oral sex on her 12-year-old
son
as if a violated child
is anyone's child anymore
as if the definition of mother —
to nurture, to protect —
has not been evenly beheaded
you know beheadings are irreversible
once you have been cut off
you are cut off
even if you are chicken
even if your body still
feels
the sting of the slice
even if you manage to run
your inevitable last thought is
something has been
irrevocably severed
in the case of the assailants
it was their hearts
but maybe they were born without them?
poverty causes
birth defects undetectable
until a child becomes
a criminal oh America
your children
are cannibal gunmen
they murder people who look like them
your children are diseased
their veins pump your war
blood your dormant gene
awake and rabid your
antecedent virus catching
your unspoken cancer history
screaming malignant your martyr's
mother's curse manifesting the globe
you set on fire is burning you
alive these American boys
are dead
long before they have grown
their first stubble
they are trouble
bubbling in the wake of rubble
of psychological warfare
come flesh
a poet will tell you
a thousand times
this shit is not poetry:
ten rapists ages 14 to 18
took turns
taking a woman
could have been their mother
rammed a train into her anus
pushed her into a bathtub full
of vinegar water hydrogen peroxide
alcohol ammonia nail polish
remover they beat her
held a gun to her head
made her give head
to the one she had given birth to
recorded their torture
with a cell phone camera
as if replaying it would keep it
more real
maybe they were replaying
an ancestral memory?
what happened Africa
before the Middle Passage?
maybe they were playing
slave captor and slave
the way some kids play cowboys
and Indians cops and robbers
soldier and Abu Ghraib prisoner
you know one of them
used a condom
had planned far ahead enough
to purchase or steal
one condom
as if the AIDS he worried the immigrant
woman might have was the worst thing
he could get
he could get life in prison
they will be tried
as the men they never got to be
were never fathered by
do not even know
America your headless
heartless young
do not even
know life
is another word for
REMEMBER
i tell you
they will never forget
their crimes
the way you
have forgotten
them.
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37 Comments
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I personally know what it's like to be screaming for help and be ignored.
Im so sorry this happened to them Im so sorry you had to write about it.
IDK what those boys [ i can hardly call them that] were thinking how they justified this.
Its all so sick.
Dunbar Village Case
A major campaign is underway to challenge NAACP and Al Sharpton actions in supporting the rapists in this case. You can help get justice for this poor woman and her son.
Join the campaign:
http://tinyurl.com/38hapx
You'll also find info for donating to the victim's fund at the above link. Send $5, $10,$50, $100 or more to help them.
Need Contact info and a template letter:
http://tinyurl.com/2nvdh9
Don't just be sad, get mad and do something!
http://www.politicalseason.blogspot.com
thanks
thanks for the links which give us a way to help. You should post them on EVERY BLOG ON OC!
I'm shocked at the NAACP. I'm sending out that letter and forwarding the link...
And thank you, Lenelle...strong poem!
This was absolutely amazing
This was absolutely amazing work
this reminds me of a song
"His spit is worth more then her work
Pass the purse to the puglist
He's a prizefighter
He brought rings and he owns kin
And now he's swinging
And now he's the champion
Hey revolver, don't mothers make
Good fathers?
Revolver
A spotless domain
Hides festering hopes she's certain there's more
Pictures of the fields without fences
Her body numbs as he approaches the door
Hey revoler don't mothers make
good fathers?
Revolver"
Rage Against the Machine
Amazing
Dear Lenelle,
This is an amazing piece of art. It was incredibly brave of you to even attempt to tackle this issue, and then you turned the account of the atrocity into this raw, upsetting, unforgettable, riveting far-reaching synthesis and ultimately human appeal to the heart.
Thank you. Continue to be brave and brilliant; the world needs your voice.
Love and Light,
Melanie
Unforgettable
I read this at another blog awhile back and was horrified that if somene had not mentioned the blog at the time on the radio I would have never even heard about this tragedy. So many tragic things are done that people never hear about except by chance and that is a shame. News media needs to check priorities sometimes. Moving poem as well. Thanks for bringing the knowledge of these things back to the forefront.
it happens
This kind of stuff goes on all the time and not just in Africa and places here in America it goes on every where in the world. It frustrates me that people are unaware of these acts of violence until they hits the news. There are so many acts of violence that go unreported and people don't now about them. A few other things that frustrate me are the fact that when people hear about these things they act as if it's the first time they've ever heard about something like this, and when it happens again they act the same way. Now don't get me wrong i feel for the women and her child, and the thing that pisses me off the most is that the neighbors did nothing to help this women. They knew and they did nothing. Also thank you for the poem.
Well yes, it frustrates all
Well yes, it frustrates all of us that this stuff gets swept up under a rug. But there could be reasons. One being that this was so horrific to this mother and child. This child, this child will have to go to school. This child will have to face people and strangers - and this event is VERY traumatic alone, the aftermath is a long road - maybe, just maybe, things don't get broad casted far and wide to help with putting the pieces back. It's delicate.
When someone is sexually assaulted, raped, molested - it takes years and years to heal, if they even ever find a way to put things back.
I hope we never react to events like this, like it is a part of the norm! Reacting to these terrible acts like it's a shock, is actually normal of things that are unacceptable in our society.
I have no clue if the neighbors knew or what circumstances surrounded this event - but having a gun shoved up your cunt, I'm pretty sure you'd curse anyone that threatened the gun holder.
These acts are unacceptable and I hope we never become numb to violence against women and children!
rovermom :)
Life is a 3D puzzle and everyone has a piece!
NEW! OurChart Photo Assignment and My Blog
There I spoke. rovermom
There I spoke.
rovermom :)
Life is a 3D puzzle and everyone has a piece!
NEW! OurChart Photo Assignment and My Blog
I am greatly saddened by the
I am greatly saddened by the act these teeanagers have committed.... It's even more disturbing to know that things like this are happening all over the world..... More and more people are becoming numb to acts such as this one..... It's a headline one day and forgotten the next..... Thanks you for not letting us forget......
Thank You.
I'm just sayin'.....
Bless you.
Thanks for sharing this. I wouldn't have found out any other way. I'm Peruvian. You write beautifully.
simply...
...amazing.
keep on writing. your words are a powerful fist against injustice. many thanks for sharing this sad, unfortunate story.
Victims All...
I firmly believe that anyone who will cause such pain in another are themselves a victim. Anyone who can imagine such evil and then pepertuate it on another of God's creations are themselves victims of this our apathetic society where we stand by and watch and then say "If only ..."
Thanks for sharing. I am deeply moved by your words. Peace.
"Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself"
The Prophet - Kahlil Gibran
barbarians
how barbaric the ritual was by the kids??u knw wat,it was so cruel n despicable,i think the authorities should hang them and circumsized them and let the the haitian lady have the privilege to shove their rotten dicks inside their filthy mouths...another good reason not to let men in our lives...peace!
thank you for sharing this
lest the injuries/ indignities we suffer be forgotten
i never heard about this story, i haven't felt so affected in a long time.
your words carry tremendous power. i hope that you continue to use poetry as an activist tool, as well as a means of reflection...
I Don't Understand
I don't. I don't understand how another person can do such horrific, abominable and heinous acts to another living being. Everytime I read about something like this, it just hurts. I can't even begin to fathom what this woman and her son went through.
Nothing but tears
"We are what we think, all that we arises in our thoughts and with our thoughts we make the world."
This is a reminder that the fight continues, there is still great evil in the world. This story lays heavy on my heart and brings tears to my eyes. So much was taken from this mother and her son. I can only hope that humanity redeems itself.
REMEMBER ALWAYS
it is sad..
that maybe that woman had to leave Haiti for a better life, to maybe find the American Dream in the US, to end up being tortured in a way that may not have happened in her motherland, Haiti. Why it happened? Because she was a minority inside a minority? Because these kids expressed their intolerance, hatred, repression to someone like them but not one of them?
Right now, I am so close to Haiti, and at the same time so far away from its own reality, since I never heard of this story. Thank you Lenelle.
Violence is growing
I fear violence is growing worldwide - especially violence against women. I am convinced that a large part of the problem are the depictions of women and violence in all kinds of "new media": video games, internet porn & violent depictions, the "values" conveyed thru specific types of music. This reminds me of the incident(s?) of "wilding" that happened years ago in Central Park, where packs of kids (of color) attacked, gang raped and beat a white female jogger.
I really believe that ethics and empathy have to be taught in schools, because it's not happening in enough homes. : (
i REMEMBER this
i remember seeing this on the news; something i just can't even stomach. i also remember hearing at the time that no one did anything. a bunch of boys just gang raped a mentally retarded girl in the city a couple of weeks ago, used a broom, as did a football team to another handicapped girl a couple of years ago. just don't read about the violence in africa; gang-raping little girls and burying them alive. or "donkey parties" in mexico where spring breakers pay prositiutes to have sex with donkeys.
what the fuck is wrong with people...what the fuck is wrong with men?
and you're right ebe; it's similar to the mob mentality which probably got these boys to do what they did. they had to lose their identities to do it and take on the identity of the group, just like was done in lynchings. no conscience, just evil, sadistic.
you're right, it does take a village...to create something like this. "evil exists when good people do nothing."
Word.....
......there's got to be one to express.....no, maybe not....
Nothing but love
Tex
shocked
your poem and the story are chocking me and am holding back the tiers(sorry if not spelt right ). I cant think just feel numb right now.
(silence)
(silence)
Seriously.
Seriously.
Thank You, Lenelle
For pulling this harsh reality out of the darkened ditches that our minds create as protection from the blinding filth of our own humanity. What I find more disturbing than the actual horrific acts performed by these damaged youths, is the fact that people listened to it happening and did nothing. These things go on all the time simply because we allow them to. Our sense of self preservation is so keen that we watch the world become a cesspool, fooling ourselves into truly believing that ignoring the grime all around us is the same as staying clean. I have always been that so-called nosey neighbor that knocks on the door when I hear one person shouting and another crying, when I hear a child screaming, when I hear furniture breaking under tumbling bodies. It has gotten me into some tough situations. Dangerous situations. But being a passive witness to atrocity feels like being an accomplice. I could never live with that. I wish the world was not filled with so many who can.
Amen to that!
Amen to that!
its actually quite common to
its actually quite common to standby and listen if there are a lot of people around. the more people, the less responsibility to do something each individual feels. its called the bystander effect.
none the less, there is definitely a lot more that can be done to prevent theses situations from happening. it is sickening to hear about this incident. i hope that i too would stand up for people if i ever were in that kind of situation.
No.
No. Dear mother, no.
i heard you read this at Bluestockings
in NYC a few months ago for the Word @Warriors release party...it made it hard to swallow afterwards and it's hard to swallow now re-reading it.
thank you for acknowledging/fighting against oppression in all its forms, for all its victims.
the M word
This made me cry
I'm so sorry you ever had to write this. I'm so sorry for that woman, that boy.
Two h words
Horrific and heartless are the only words I can think of at the moment. Thank you for sharing your poem.
I remember that...
As a human being, I was horrified. I was really horrified. But, you know what is more horrifying? The fact that crimes against black women, from all points of the diaspora, are barely acknowledged or blushed at. It's infuriating. Whatever happend to the little devils? Yeah, and yes they are little devils - to any PC toes I've stepped on, again.
Echo
Thank you for sharing this story. Very moving poem, yes it does take a village to raise a child but I also believe a lot of it is also the parents of these children, probably just children themselves, stuck the system. We need to stand by our BROTHERS and SISTERS and let them know they are not alone. Thank you for your one voice......... Maybe the echos from this forum will make a difference .... GB C Kumar
i think
i'm going to have to drink some of Ilene's brandy and pop a few of her pills....