{"id":93147,"date":"2021-06-26T15:41:48","date_gmt":"2021-06-26T19:41:48","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=93147"},"modified":"2021-06-27T00:26:48","modified_gmt":"2021-06-27T04:26:48","slug":"reckoning-of-my-mission-bell","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2021\/06\/reckoning-of-my-mission-bell\/","title":{"rendered":"Reckoning of My Mission Bell\u00a0"},"content":{"rendered":"

Reckoning of My Mission Bell\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u201cMissions were sites of conflict, conquest, and forced labor.\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

California History Social Science Framework, 2016.<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

How much I adored her<\/span><\/p>\n

cast iron campana, erect in morning light,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

astride a rural bridge, entrance to our home,<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 13 plus feet tall, shepherd’s crook holding\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 a California El Camino Real bell,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 its green patina wizened to dark brown.<\/span><\/p>\n

I imagined it to say, <\/span>This hacienda welcomes you!<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I\u2019<\/span>m not sure we can keep her. <\/span><\/i>My husband<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 winces, flashes his Are You Kidding Me look.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 Annoyed, he listens.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

40 years ago I taught 4th graders\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

state history, indigenous peoples\u2019 cultures…<\/span><\/p>\n

No model missions in my unit<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 rather, Spanish settlement & land use.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 a mention of manifest destiny<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 (Somehow I failed to teach how landscape<\/span><\/p>\n

holds history, genocide of California\u2019s Natives.)<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

El Camino Real Bell, my husband gifted me<\/span><\/p>\n

celebrating our dream-home, terra-cotta<\/span><\/p>\n

saltillo tiles & bells grace our property.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 We even replaced it after theft.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u2026 A journey of new learning shatters\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 my understanding. My bell, a symbol<\/span><\/p>\n

of cultural erasure, brutal truths. Crap!<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Friday night ladies, chardonnays in hand, talk politics:<\/span><\/p>\n

Liberals removing historical statues!<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

They just want to erase history!<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 How my conscience writhes, my beloved bell<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 weighs like lead in my gut. I learn<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 some people have taken down their<\/span><\/p>\n

El Camino Real bells. Does removal shape change?<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I dream of people journeying to foothill baths<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 through lands our orchards now occupy. I feel\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 their spirits, hear their weeping.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Time to create a new symbol, new narrative<\/span><\/p>\n

my own space to acknowledge violence,<\/span><\/p>\n

California\u2019s colonialism in this shepherd’s crook,<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 a curve of dominance, not protection.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 I place a fountain encircled with bougainvillea\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 below, honoring Yokut peoples here before me<\/span><\/p>\n

whose teardrops fall beneath my mission bell.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

June 26, 2021<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Reckoning of My Mission Bell\u00a0   \u201cMissions were sites of conflict, conquest, and forced labor.\u201d California History Social Science Framework, 2016.   How much I adored her cast iron campana, erect in morning light,\u00a0 astride a rural bridge, entrance to our home, \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3467,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[11],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-93147","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-half-marathon-poem"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/93147","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3467"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=93147"}],"version-history":[{"count":10,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/93147\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":99398,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/93147\/revisions\/99398"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=93147"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=93147"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=93147"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}