The Direction of Intention

I learned a new term that I wish I could unlearn. Sacrifice zone. Here’s the wikipedia definition: A sacrifice zone is a heavily polluted or environmentally degraded geographic area, often residential, where residents—typically low-income or minority communities—suffer severe health risks due to proximity to industrial, mining, or military sites. These “throw-away” communities are deemed acceptable losses for economic development or national industrial needs, resulting in high cancer risks and respiratory diseases.

I learned my new term from a documentary film, GASLIT, that we saw at The Downer Theater as part of The Milwaukee Film Festival. After the movie we had to take a walk. We were so disturbed, so out of body, that it was not yet safe for us to drive. The film encapsulates everything that I feel is wrong with my nation and the world: To justify personal gain, one group of people determines that another group of people are disposable; less than human.

Herein lies the cautionary tale. Watch the film and you will be astounded to learn of the amount of methane being dumped into our atmosphere everyday. You will see the wasteland, the environmental devastation created by the toxins pouring from the refineries. They not only kill people. They kill everything with an impulse to life. Plants. Rivers. Animals. Air. Play the story to its natural conclusion and the earth becomes one big all-inclusive sacrifice zone. We are, all of us – even the morbidly wealthy who’ve determined that a community of human beings is worth throwing away for profit – are rendering themselves throw-aways.

Scientists are screaming. Cash registers are ringing.

In feudal times a black plague ravaged the land. The aristocracy locked themselves in castles as protection against the riff-raff believing their privilege would save them. As it turns out privilege is an illusion in the face of a plague or famine or a hurricane. Stacks of cash are lousy protection against tornadoes and floods and forest fires. The methane trapping the heat in our atmosphere does not discriminate. Climate change is a pleasant term for something wildly unpleasant. It is a trick of language, similar to other phrases, like sacrifice zone or cancer alley or throw-away communities, to sanitize or minimize the horror unleashed when a dollar bill is placed higher in value than a human life.

It is a sickness, a mental-plague that runs amok through human history. What might it take for us to actually realize that life is a sacred thing that is far more precious than profit?

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Bonus: Keep in mind that the Supreme Court just gutted the Voters Rights Act that guaranteed fair representation of minority communities. They determined that it was no longer necessary. Might I suggest that the Supremes leave their protected fortress and live for a year or two in a sacrifice zone? Perhaps they should drink the water in cancer alley. Perhaps they would learn what actually happens to a community when it has little or no fair representation. Perhaps they would learn how far we actually are from realizing the promise of equal rights or justice-for-all. Or, perhaps they already know and are giddy with the power to determine who is worth constitutional protection and who is easily thrown away.

read Kerri’s blogpost about GASLIT

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Filed under: Flawed Wednesday, Perspective, Uncategorized | Tagged: artistry, climate change, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, disposable people, Gaslit, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, methane, privilege, sacrifice zones, story, studio melange, the melange, throw away communities, Voters Right Act | 1 Comment »