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Small Sound System Has Died

Untitled document

Laurie sent out the official word that our small, portable sound system has died. There has been the expected outpouring of grief.  It inspired me to write the following:

Which of us would not give the same? How many must make such a sacrifice before we may lower our voices to a hush of elation and joy? Small Sound System was known to us all. Always helping us push ourselves. Always selflessly making sure we knew we could be heard.

Rather than mourn Small Sound System, we should take solace that she died doing what she loved. Instead, let us now aspire to be as shewas. Through her service, she empowered and touched countless others. Sometimes with a nervous grief that made the words stumble, othertimes, her voice shook with rage and indignation. The emotion she carried went far beyond herself, carrying over the din from the drums of war, rippling to the back of the room and into the streets. Hermany voices eddy about us, creating a shimmer of both joy andresistance. We must seek the same selflessness to empower others, and strengthen that current. Together, we can build in her memory,amplifying more voices, healing more wounds.

So, please, join me in celebrating her life, her influence, her accomplishments. Leave mourning to those whose mores she has helped disrupt.

If you feel so inclined, share an experience with Small Sound System in the comments.  It will help us reflect on our growth. 

4 Comments »

  1. Untitled document

    Oh, little wireless mobile unit — you served us so well.  I remember your infancy like it was yesterday, holding you up over the heads of marchers while your mic was passed around among the folks in the crowd chanting the most energetically.  Your adolescence, when we'd roll around in the wintertime with your amp in a backpack and the mic down our sleeves, rocking rhymes resounding off of the awnings of major government buildings as passersby spun pirouettes in confusion, included some of the most enchanting moments of my time in the nation's last plantation.  Even in your old age, when you helped defend immigrants against racism, and Lebanon from murderous aggression, you gave voice to people of all kinds.  You were to us what stirrups were to the Mongols, and we will mourn your passing dearly….

    Comment by shahid — September 13, 2006 @ 7:36 pm

  2. Untitled document We are a silly bunch

    Comment by Laurie Blair — September 15, 2006 @ 10:55 am

  3. I remember when Fendy first arrived from the magical UPS stork. Fendy was hungry so I plugged it in and it light up, it was magical, then I turned on it's little microphone and spoke into it and it got loud…I am gonna miss you little buddy!

    Comment by A N O K P O E T — September 16, 2006 @ 9:59 pm

  4. Photos of the sound system's last night:
    http://www.guerrillapoets.org/archives/photos-from-the-18th

    Comment by photos — September 20, 2006 @ 2:55 am

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The DC Guerrilla Poetry Insurgency (GPI) is an anti-authoritarian, collaborative, pro-humanity artists' collective incorporating music, rhythm, spoken word, community and resistance.

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